Chapter 407 - The Main Act
The format and content of the victory celebration for conquering the 'White Throne' were mostly the same as the 'after-party' held after the Four Pillar War. Since the East was in charge of this subjugation battle, even the venue was the same: Istia's wartime base, Ruvalest.
The only differences were the participation of the rankers from the North and South who had joined as reinforcements, and the nearly half-day runtime, as if to say, "Talk (and go wild) as much as you want."
As always, there were numerous tables laden with snacks and drinks (of unknown origin), and the floors were generally divided between rankers and everyone else—however, this time, that nominal 'barrier' quickly ceased to matter.
The reason for that was,
"————D-Daaaaaaamn iiiiiiiit...!"
"Alright, next!"
Just like at the last 'after-party', on the 'stage' set up for entertainment.
"—Guaaargh!!!"
"Okay, next!"
The clash of swords, a sound that should have been completely out of place at a glamorous party, echoed through the venue,
"—I saw through it—gyaaaah!?"
"Where are you lookin'?! C'mon, next!"
Because none other than a lively, utterly lawless, and brutal feast of blood... or rather, a feast of shame, you could call it a public execution (?), was unfolding.
Just under sixty participants—nearly the entire frontline of the recent raid.
Format: a one-versus-sixty survival match.
The match ends when one side runs out of lives—in other words,
"Alright, thirty down! Next!!"
"Dammit, I can't see a thing...!"
It was a frenzy that would continue until I beat everyone down, or until they—the mob—beat me down.
The cause of all this... there wasn't one.
The moment I showed up with Sora at the start time, I was hit with a simultaneous declaration of war from the majority of the raid members—the male ones—and this was the result.
Well, I knew it would happen. They were probably tired, but in the end, the reason I was allowed to nonchalantly leave after the 'White Throne' battle was all for this.
It must have been predetermined that I would be teased with their full, unrestrained effort here today.
After all, I did shout it at the top of my lungs—Ashe.
Meanwhile, the other party involved, the 'Princess', is elegantly observing the spectacle from the second floor. Both she and the blue-haired person next to her, who is smiling wryly, seem to be enjoying themselves, which is great.
And just then... whoops, you're open.
"—Aghh!"
I parried the weapon of mob member number thirty-one, who had launched a ferocious rush, and as we passed each other, I gifted him a perfect backstab right in the center of his spine.
Unlike the ridiculously tough enemies, players can't withstand a precise strike to a critical point, even from a decent weapon.
Even though it's in the low-damage dagger category, my Rabbit Dagger, made with impeccable materials by a master craftsman, is more than sufficient. A solid stab and a quick twist, and they explode into pieces in a single blow.
"Phew..."
I'm trying to make it look easy, but honestly, this is tough.
It's not an issue of continuous fighting or focus; it's simply that everyone here is strong on a level that's no joke.
I've memorized their faces and names, but I haven't grasped all the details of their individual special skills and whatnots. As a result, I've already been hit with cheap shots from these elite players selected for the raid and have come close to dying about five times.
Counters, trap skills, even all-out suicide attacks intended to take me down with them... My weaknesses, or rather, 'things I hate having done to me,' are apparently completely exposed, and these seasoned veterans are mercilessly exploiting them.
Like the time I lopped off one player's head, only to have the damage reflected back at me the next instant, nearly killing me. Actually, the one time I did die really freaked me out.
I still don't know what they did, but honestly, I wouldn't have minded losing at that point. I'm proud of my unique equipment, but frankly, the [Aquamarine Rabbit Heart] is just too cheap in a one-on-one fight—and that's thirty-five down.
"Ngh...! His one-on-one performance is just demonic...!!"
"It's not just strong, it's cheap."
"Guess AGI builds really are king in PvP..."
"If you can't react, you can't even get in the ring with him."
"Seriously, it's an impossible game."
"Is there any chance besides ganging up on him with Riha-san?"
"Ganging up on the guy who handled the White Throne's tentacle barrage is..."
"The best solution is for the backline to just nuke everything, allies included."
"I can only see a future where he breaks through in an instant and takes out the backline first."
"How about we all face him, and on 'go,' we all just self-destruct?"
"He'd probably escape that in an instant, too. Game over."
"...So that's how it is. Honestly, how do we beat him?"
"Are you asking him?"
As the next challenger walked onto the stage, carrying the weight of that lively discussion, they asked me their question. I let out a wry smile... I understood that this wasn't harassment or anything, just some extreme roughhousing, and so I replied,
"Well, let's see... For example, if someone just trips me while I'm moving at high speed, it'll cause a huge accident, and I might even die."
"Yeah, probably..."
"So, to be honest, trap skills that could cause a similar result are what I'm most scared of. As you know, I have almost zero visibility while I'm moving."
"Uh, no, we did not know that."
"So there you have it."
"What do you mean, 'there you have it'?!"
To be honest, I think the most graceful exit would be to 'die honorably after a good fight, overwhelmed by numbers,' so I welcome anyone who can accurately target my weaknesses. I'm fully prepared to actively expose them.
However, of course.
"So, with that, let's get fired up for my 36th straight win!"
"H-Hey, hold on... assuming you'll win—glrblargh!?"
I have no intention of losing on purpose, so I guess I'll keep trying my best for a little while longer.
Negating one fatal blow in a one-on-one is criminal.