Chapter 5: Harvest
On the tournament stage, the Celestial Dragons' area held Celestial Dragons, Slaves, and guards.
A Celestial Dragon seated at the front stared in surprise at Dante Voss's departing figure, eyes flickering.
"Number Nine, can you beat him?"
The huge Slave on the ground shakily lifted his head, looked down at Dante Voss, and said humbly,
"Master Saint Mike, I can."
Exhausted as Number Nine was, he could sense the man below was still weak—no match for him.
"Good, then."
Mike's lips curved in satisfaction at the answer.
This Slave had cost him a fortune at an outside auction; supposedly a pirate with a bounty over a hundred million.
He'd told no one, saving the revelation to shock the other Celestial Dragons.
"Go fetch Vic."
Mike's eyes glinted; he finally ordered.
"Yes, sir!"
An armored guard hastily obeyed, sprinting off.
Moments later Vic rushed up, excitement all over his face as he bowed obsequiously.
"Greetings, Saint Mike. How may I serve you?"
Vic's heart fluttered between thrill and dread.
This Celestial Dragon was no ordinary one.
Even among Celestial Dragons his standing was high.
It was said an elder of his belonged to a certain special organization that even the Celestial Dragons feared.
One word from such a being could raise Vic to riches—or kill him outright.
Men of his low rank were rarely summoned; today he had been called.
Recalling Dante Voss's performance, Vic suspected the reason.
"Mm."
Mike gave him a glance. "Today's match pleased me. Make tomorrow's even more spectacular—understood?"
Vic brightened and nodded repeatedly.
"Yes, yes! I understand, and I'll make sure you're satisfied."
"Good!"
Mike nodded contentedly and rose; Slave Nine hurriedly crawled beneath his feet, flattening himself.
Mike lounged on the Slave's back, idly lifting the chain around his neck.
"Then I'll await your good news—don't disappoint me."
"Farewell, Saint Mike."
Vic bowed deeply, showing utmost respect.
Only after a long while did he dare straighten, heart racing.
He had stagnated here for years without a glimpse of promotion; now he saw one.
Fulfill Saint Mike's task and he would rise meteorically.
Becoming a local tyrant would be easy.
"A more spectacular show, huh…"
Vic grinned, already dreaming of his future happiness. Dante Voss returned to the building; the Administrators re-shackled him and led him back to the dungeon.
Slaves who had luckily avoided the fight stared in shock at Dante Voss—the sole survivor.
They could hardly believe this unremarkable Slave had emerged victorious.
Ignoring their stares, Dante Voss tore a strip from his blood-stained shirt and bound his wounded arm, then opened his system to check today's gains.
[Physique: 36]
[Strength: 22]
[Speed: 52]
[Spirit: 39]
[slaughter points: 550]
Those were his current attributes; his only Ability remained [Swordsmanship].
His backpack, however, was stuffed—though all rewards were white-grade.
[delicious bento box ×3]
[5 L Mineral Water ×2]
[Fruit Crate ×2]
Compared with red-grade rewards, white ones were mundane—basic daily items.
Yet for Dante Voss they were vital.
He'd eaten only two buns all day before surviving that brawl.
No matter how high his attributes rose, he still needed food.
Waiting for Administrators to deliver meals could take forever.
When the other Slaves finally looked away, Dante Voss turned his back to the bars and tried extracting items from his [backpack].
He focused on the [delicious bento box] in the virtual grid.
As expected!
With a thought, a huge lunchbox appeared in his hands.
This [delicious bento box] differed from ordinary ones.
It was wash-basin sized, divided into three compartments.
One held hot dishes, one cold, and the largest at bottom held rice.
A clear plastic lid sealed it, with a pouch containing chopsticks and a fork on top.
Dante Voss felt a gentle warmth through the box.
Sitting on the ground, he peeled off the lid; a mouth-watering aroma instantly stirred his hunger.
After a day of fierce combat he was starving.
Without pause he forked the food into his mouth.
With his raised Physique his appetite had grown as well.
He polished off the five-to-six-times-normal [delicious bento box] completely.
Dante Voss burped; he hadn't tasted such good food in ages.
Frowning at the empty box, he pondered.
Better not leave it here.
If the Administrators found it they might think him an Ability user and watch him even closer.
He decided to try putting the box back into his [backpack].
Opening the [backpack], he moved the box toward an empty slot.
It worked.
The moment his hand touched the virtual panel the box vanished, reappearing in the grid.
An item now showed:
[Used Lunchbox ×1]
Relieved, Dante Voss pulled out a large bottle of mineral water and gulped.
After draining more than half he stored it away again.
Sated, he reopened the system and checked the [Swordsmanship] description.
[Swordsmanship (Junior Swordsman)]
[Description: A novice in the way of the sword. Grasps basic swings and thrusts.]
[Next Rank: Intermediate Swordsman]
[Description: Improved sword forms, basic techniques, some combat experience.]
[Upgrade Cost: 300 slaughter points.]
His gaze locked on the Intermediate description.
Today's victory owed not just to higher attributes but to acquiring [Swordsmanship].
Though not yet overwhelming, its power was undeniable.
In this world [Swordsmanship] was a main cultivation path!
"Some combat experience…"
Reading that line, Dante Voss finally chose to upgrade to Intermediate Swordsman.
[Swordsmanship upgraded to Intermediate Swordsman. 300 slaughter points consumed.]
A surge of richer experience flooded his mind; he felt as though he'd fought countless battles, his understanding of the sword deepening.