Reviews:

Yea, I feel like the people of Theocracy should have some awareness of this blatant discrimination. Honestly, it is hard to talk about equality when the basis of governance in the New World mostly depends on the nobility of one's blood. Thanks for the comment!

Sorry that I am not posting regularly. I have research and big boy stuff going on. In this chapter you will see that people are referred to by different names in different instances. It is because I am switching between perspectives. Anyways hope you enjoy the chapter. :^)

Onwards with chapter 13!

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Inn keeper looked at the schedule he has planned.

'Amateur fights until eleven.

Professional fight of the week

Introduce the arriving arena champion, display match between Nero-dono and a demi-human.'

Then he looked at the arena, one of his strongest kickers, a pro with a match history of forty wins and three losses, Lexi the Rabbit was fleeing from a moving mountain of muscle. The girlish shrieks of the man could be heard as George chased him with inhuman fierceness. Innkeeper ripped the page of his scheduler and threw the crumpled piece of paper towards the arena in frustration. 'I don't know how I will make the audience take the fighters seriously after these fights.'

Two rows below him a hand bolted and grabbed the crumpled paper with unnatural speed. Nero smirked as he read the simple schedule.

"Look at this Mura, old man Tito's plans are in shambles."

Mura skimmed the sheet, "O Nero-san, you didn't tell me you had a fight arranged."

The roar of the crowd interrupted them when Lexi the Rabbit got tackled into the ground. The medics and a healer were waiting at the ready outside and came in with the stretcher once the referee confirmed the fighter was knocked out. After the first match all the people who wanted the glory for taking out Gallahad had queued to get a chance against the traveler. Instead of getting intimidated, more and more fight lovers tried their chances, only to be knocked unconscious within a couple seconds. Lexi's fight had taken a solid three minutes since the men had begun to run away from Gallahad the moment he got into the arena.

After the noise subsided Nero answered, "Yes, against a dark dwarf slave. But it seems that won't be happening while that George guy is still standing."

Mura lifted his eyebrows, "You want to take him out don't you."

"You read me like a book Mura."

"Hmm, I don't doubt you Nero-san, but something about that man does not seem right to me. Never seen anybody fight like that before."

"Indeed, it would make sense if he was a warrior-monk like me but just looking at his physique is enough for me to tell that this guy fights with a weapon."

That actually shocked Mura enough to drop his sarcastic facade. "No way! He is this strong in melee combat while having a weapon focus?"

"Aye. If I were to guess, I would say he is some kind of shapeshifter. Think about it, he isn't using a single martial art and easily overpowered the strongest guys in the city." Nero gave him a vicious smile. "If I can confirm my suspicions, this one would make good "field experience".

Mura mirrored him back, "Should I let Augustin-dono know about your suspicions?"

"Nah, not yet at least. There is still a chance he is human and for Augustin that matters little. He is way too radical to play some good ol' cat and mouse. You should focus on locating who his sponsor is. If he is really a non-human who is not registered under an owner, then he is basically free for the taking… and Mura, talk to old man Tito, I am heading down."

Nero moved nimbly to the edge of the lodge and dropped down into the arena. George's eyes immediately locked on to the newcomer. The crowd who has been laughing and cheering the former cat and mouse game slowly quieted down as the new contestant made an unconventional entry.

'This guy's gaze, this killing-intent… No George the "Savage", you can't deceive a man who has spent his entire life hunting beasts and demi-humans.'

After a minute, the innkeeper ran to the lodge where the confused announcer stood. After some small whispering to the ear the announcer nodded professionally and addressed the crowd.

"Tonight we have witnessed the incredible, as a traveler proved his mettle over thirty-two times against the strong-arms of Lochliel! His ambition and might was noted by the biggest shark in the sea, fiercest lion in the jungle and the lord of the arena, NERO THE ADVENTURER!

Crowd roared louder than ever for the undisputed king of fist-fighting. Nero have been the champion for thirteen years, traveling to Lochliel two times a year to defend his title. There wasn't anyone in the crowd that did not know the name.

Gallahad looked at his new opponent. This man was not as tall or as wide as he was, but every single fiber of muscle could be seen under a thin layer of skin. He was muscular to the extent that his cheeks and forehead were also covered in strips of muscle. Fat did not seem to exist in that body. From Nero's physique and posture to his clam look, the savage orc immediately understood that this was a worthy opponent.

So Gallahad used his full strength right from the beginning; with a war cry, he charged at his opponent with full force. Nero at the other side did the same. The disguised orc's arms came around from both sides for a straight forward, albeit powerful tackle.

Nero moved slightly to his left as George charged in. He stepped forward with his right food while twisting his back leg to point backwards. His left arm smashed into the right arm of the giant of a man while his right hand came in with a palm strike to the inside of George's right elbow. [Lesser Ki Strike]!

Gallahad smiled inwardly, the man had focused everything on deflecting his right arm, but he knew the human was not strong enough to halt his charge or prevent him from wrapping his arms around him. With this Nero human focusing to his right arm, Gallahad would easily take his back and smash him into the dirt, an easy win. Or so the savage orc thought.

Nero twisted his whole body towards left. He used George's power against himself as he used his back to redirect George's charge, while both controlling his dominant arm and sending a Ki strike to weaken it. Nero threw George all the way to the walls of the arena over his shoulder. The large body smashed half way into the wooden walls accompanied by the crackles of the yielding wood.

'Oops, maybe I should not have used my full strength. Heteromorph or not, that must have hurt.'

After a moment of stillness, the man moved. The wood seemed to explode as Gallahad pulled himself back into the arena, freeing himself from the wooden maw the impact had created.

Nero inspected George who cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders while gazing him down with a ruthless glare. He tried to gage the damage the throw has caused to George but there was no visible damage. 'Not a single scratch huh.'

Gallahad would have been furious couple weeks ago, if he were to be thrown around by a human. But he had learned a lot in the recent past. He contained his anger and turned it into determination in order to show his opponent just how mighty Gallahad the Warchief is.

In the audience, Joann was starting to get worried. If it wasn't natural for a man to be as strong as Gallahad is showing himself to be, then smashing halfway through a thick wooden wall and walking away without a scratch was even more unnatural. This fight would definitely blow the orc's cover if she let it continue. Nero seemed to be around level 27 which was remarkable for a human. With his skill distribution, he definitely had more skill when it came to hand to hand combat than Gallahad. In the end, the level disparity was just to vast though, she knew Gallahad would win after a fierce battle that would undoubtedly rise suspicions among the crowd.

Nero was thinking on a similar line. If he were to blow this "thing"'s cover, there would be more after him than just his group. Halfheartedly, he made his choice. Nero gave George a smile that did not reach his eyes.

"I surrender!"

It took couple seconds for both Gallahad and the referee to register what Nero had just said. The referee moved to the middle of the ring and announced it to the crowd.

"Nero has surrendered! George the Savage has won, give an applause for the new champion!"

The crowd was silent. Then a single whistle could be heard. Some claps here and there. Then some more. And then some. Finally, the whole arena boomed with applause for the new arena champion, while it was quiet the anti-climactic end to a match, a win was a win regardless. After thirteen years, Lochliel had a new champion.

Gallahad was visibly angry while Nero wore a sly smile. Nero had yielded before he could earn his victory.

….

Mura whistled a barely audible tune as he approached the room. He had talked to Tito and found out who George's sponsor was. Then, he had used his skills to take a peek into the finance books to find their room number. He was a rogue after all. He had been using his skills in the perimeter and already knew there were two insides besides George and this Joann woman who should be watching them. Just as he had calculated, the door opened when he was twenty steps away.

'So, the operation field experience commenceth.' Mura giggled.

After making sure Grendell was asleep, Berethur got out of the room to take a piss. He yawned as he got out to the corridor.

'Life is so much better when your belly is full and you got a bed.'

He walked past an unremarkable eastern-looking man and motioned towards the stairs. However, his vision went dark before reaching to it.

Berethur opened his eyes to a large room. All walls and the floor were made up of stone and large patches of mold covered most of the ground. From the smell and the absence of windows, he guessed that he was somewhere in the sewers. He was sitting in a chair in the middle of the room, his hands and legs were tied to the chair.

"...I am sure of it." A lean and muscular figure was talking to a creepy masked man, gothic armor put over thick layers of his robe.

"Tsk tsk tsk." The eastern-looking man stood in front of him with his hands formed into relaxed fists. He gave an exasperated sigh.

"Don't. You. Guys. Know. That. You. Should. Register. Non-humans. In. Theocracy.?" He punched Berethur in the face at the end of each word.

Mura took a step back and gazed at the man. "Whoa Mura-san, you are really good at this! I think I saw a tooth flying that way!" Moe was scanning the floor as he talked.

Mura grabbed Berethur's chin and raise head so he can look at him. The sorcerer was way too dazed to do it himself at that instant. "So, what is your friend exactly? That George fella." Berethur wasn't in any condition to respond. His face was rapidly swelling and his head felt like it was going to spill out of his nostrils.

"Back off Mura, we know where they are staying. No need to interrogate the poor boy." Mura irked and backed away when Augustin started talking. Soon after the man wearing the iron mask took Mura's place. Slowly regaining his bearings, Berethur looked at the masked man.

Augustin raised his hand, which made Berethur flinch. However, Augustin did not punch him. Augustin's hand went to his mask and slowly took it off. Under it was a rotten face. The man's face looked like it was halfway through necrosis. Spots of black- red gashes and large wounds made it look like a surreal painting. Bloodshot eyes with no eyelids stared at Berethur.

"Let me fill you in on some premium information boy. I was born with an extremely unique passive ability, [Life Drain II]." His bilious mouth twisted into a half-frown. The other three in the room also listened intently.

"Normally it takes a necromancer who has access to 4th tier spells to cast it. Makes it awfully hard for my foes to get close to me if I don't hold it back, let alone touch me. The downside is, I am also susceptible to this curse albeit at a much slower rate. I have travelled all around, sharing my burden with others so I don't rot away due to my accursed legacy. Shared with over two hundred people of all shape and sizes. As you can see, I am very charitable. It eases a little, but my curse always wants more flesh." He smirked at him.

Berethur was kindof happy that the punches had made it hard for him to think straight. All he could do was to assume an unconcussed Berethur would be terrified right now.

"Now, if I only let you in on the fun, you will die awfully quick. Instead you and your entourage will share it together."

"Augustin-dono, we need to turn them in alive. As you have said, we are paid for every non-human and non-human aider we catch." When it came down to their paycheck, Nero was the most devout of them all.

"Of course Nero, I am just going to give them a taste. My medicines are running low. He motioned towards the two bandaged figures."

"Hmph, can't be helped I guess."

Joann was freaking out. Berethur was nowhere to be found. It had taken them a while to get back to their room after Gallahad had become the arena champion and now she whole heartedly regretted the time they had wasted. She had made Gallahad check the room while she searched the whole area with her [Wind Tendrils].

'Grendell is still sleeping, but it will be very troublesome when he notices Berethur's absence.'

"I found somethin'" Gallahad's voice came from the corridor. Joann never have thought she would be so happy to hear Gallahad's humanized voice. He pointed at the small food stain on the ground.

"Residue of tonight's meal. Seems like your humie friend face-planted right here."

'Did he slip? Even Berethur wouldn't slip on flat normal surface and fall face-first.' Gallahad also pointed out very vague lines that might have been caused by heels if someone was dragged. 'Taken then?'

Low growling sound coming from the room declared that Grendell was up. 'Shit, shit, shit. I do not know how to explain this to him.' Joann racked her brain while Grendell took a look around the room.

"We will take him with us. Grendell is a great warrior." Gallahad walked towards the shapeshifted beast.

"You think so? Do you know how hard would it be to get him out of the Theocracy if they found out what he is?!" Joann was racking her brain, 'We don't even know who took him or why. They probably watched us at the fighting event. I KNEW letting Gallahad fight was a bad idea.'

Joann forcefully calmed herself and thought about the possibilities. 'If they were kidnapping for extortion, then they would have left some kind of message. If they were just aiming to kill them, Grendell would also be targeted. Those are not it.'

'The most plausible explanation is that they do not care that we know they are on us. All they wanted was more information. Yes, that must mean that whoever took him wanted to interrogate him. What if he tells everything? There is so much that is on stake here, fuck! Ugh, that means we need to find him quick, before they learn more about us.'

A sudden bolt of realization struck her while she was pondering. "The medallion!"

'By the Lords and creator-sama, how can I be so stupid?!' She turned to Gallahad.

"Ok, we will take Grendell with us. Berethur has one of my Lloyd Medallions. We can track him that way. If my assumption is true, they will find out who we are regardless we bring Grendell or not; provided we do not hurry. Let's go." Joann checked his equipment and sent a mental signal to Hyperion. She left the room, seeking after the signal of her medallion.

Gallahad grabbed Grendell's arm avoiding his hand and rushed after Joann.

Demiurge gazed down the wall. Under the shadow of the wall, numerous small buildings were visible. Holed in to the ground, large furnaces released black fog towards the sky. Weapons, armor and angry machines of war were being made.

'Ainz-sama subjugated the entirety of the Empire in a single day, in one glorious victory; without a single death. But people's loyalty is fickle and Jircniv is a fool. Trying to rebel against the graceful and righteous rule of the Supreme Being. Truly undeserving of Ainz-sama's compassion.' Demiurge smiled serenely over the sheep, working day and night to meet the expectations of their Emperor, who was nothing but an astonishingly untalented doppelganger. He was so bad that Demiurge sometimes just let him ruin the country through nothing but his candid acting.

'I will teach these fools to appreciate a fair ruler's compassion. I will teach them that their blind worship to false gods will be their undoing. Then, Ainz-sama may choose what his Un-Holiness would deem their fate to be. Until then, they are my sheep.'

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See you next chapter, critiques and support are welcome!

Also, sorry if there are grammar mistakes. No one proofreads my work including me xd.