A Novel Concept - A death a day, MC will live anyway!

Rohan's blade sank into his opponent's back, piercing his heart. Priam frowned at the scene. The sight of blood and the crowd's cheers were mere background noise compared to the gnawing concern eating at him.

"He's strong," Louis observed.

"She can win," growled Blueberry. "Right, girl?"

"I will win," Jasmine confirmed.

Priam noted that his Shadow—when had he started thinking of her like that so naturally?—wasn't smiling. Everyone knew an open-arena fight wasn't in her favor.

"Woah! After two one-sided semifinals, tomorrow's final is shaping up to be a real spectacle!" the announcer shouted as the Demiurge stepped in to save the heartless Snahert. "You heard right—tomorrow marks the end of the Tier 0 fights!"

The crowd booed, and he laughed it off. "I know, I know, I too would like to see another fight… But we wouldn't want our gladiators stepping into the ring in less than perfect shape, now would we? In the meantime, rumor has it the tribes are throwing a feast in honor of our High Marshall. Whether you're hungry, sociable, looking to trade, or eager to explore the wilds of the Wandering Islands—that's the place to be!"

The crowd erupted in cheers until Demiurge Hekthorn raised his hand.

"The gate will remain open until midnight, then close until six in the morning," the Tier 5 rumbled, authority dripping from every syllable. "To my people: no one is to leave the tribal encampment. The Necromoon is raging, and I will not tolerate any corruption in my world."

He's sealing the portal overnight, Priam noted. To hunt Sumstreh?

"Tier 0 finals: tomorrow, when the sun reaches its zenith!" the announcer grinned. "See you then!"

With that, the two elves vanished, and a portal shimmered open in the center of the arena. Beyond it, Elysium awaited.

"Grab me some of that," Blueberry said, pointing at what looked like a pig.

Priam carved off a shank and dropped it on his furry companion's plate. The bear rolled his eyes. "More."

The young man sighed and dropped a whole ham onto the dish. "Ten kilos easy. Happy now?"

"Nope," the bear replied, grabbing the whole roasted beast. "Some of us are starving."

"Glutton."

"Damn right," Blueberry said, biting the pig's head clean off. The crunch of bones was disturbingly similar to potato chips. "Now move before I eat you too."

Chuckling, Priam sliced the wing off a roasted bird and wandered over to Kazuki. The hoplite was scanning the tribal buffet, his plate stacked with vegetables and fish.

"They eat snakes," Kazuki muttered.

"Great for your heart," chimed in a passing Snahert. "Also a powerful aphrodisiac."

Without hesitation, Kazuki slipped a snake filet into one of his pockets. "For later," he said to Priam with a straight face.

It was hard to picture the stoic hoplite getting intimate with his wife—but then again, reality had a habit of outpacing imagination.

"You're smart to stock up, friend. In a few days, snake'll be a rare delicacy," a slurred voice chimed in from behind. "They're going extinct… if you catch my drift."

Priam turned to find a drunk Aelbe barely capable of standing. Mug in hand, he was well beyond tipsy.

"What did you just say?" growled the Snahert who had advised Kazuki.

"Oh, sorry. Forgot snakes don't have ears." The Aelbe smirked. "Let me repeat: your so-called elite got slaughtered."

"Young Master Rohan could've ended that fight in five seconds if he'd wanted to," added another Aelbe, just as inebriated.

"You better start prepping your funeral pyres once the Necromoon washes over your clan," continued the first drunkard.

The Snahert saw red. "That was Tier 0, you dumb bastard. You think the survival of a clan rides on a bunch of kids?!" He spat on the grass, and the blades hissed as they were melted by the saliva. "If you're so damn confident, why are you begging the elves to take you in? I bet you cowards would ditch the System in a heartbeat if the High Marshall offered you sanctuary. Your young master would whore himself out to see another day."

The first Aelbe turned red and threw a punch. He must have been a crafter, as his pathetic strike missed the Snahert entirely. The Snahert retaliated, and his blow landed. After flying two meters, the Aelbe hit the ground and didn't get back up. His drunk buddy howled in rage and charged.

"I'm gonna rip your heart out through your kneecaps!"

That scream brought more Aelbes and Snaherts into the fray. Within seconds, Priam found himself an astonished spectator to a furious brawl.

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"You might wanna step back before someone drags you in," a voice said beside him.

"I've got nothing to do with this."

"Like a crowd cares who threw the first punch."

"…Fair."

Priam turned and blinked in surprise. Braato stood next to him, chewing on what looked like a black licorice root while observing the fight.

"Chief Braato. Good to see you again," Priam said, nodding respectfully.

"Mmh."

Silence stretched to become awkward. Priam glanced at Kazuki, who simply shrugged. You're on your own, buddy.

"There's… no bad blood between us, I hope?" Priam asked, gesturing at the escalating brawl. A few Gaeserts had joined in for the sheer fun of punching snakes or cats.

"None. Jasmine beat Khalienne fair and square. That's more than I can say for the other two."

"I fear to understand the weight of that statement," Kazuki interjected.

Braato sighed, catching a fruit that flew his way. "Two of our top Tier 1s are currently going through both ends," he said, taking a bite. "They ate something poisoned."

"The Snaherts?"

"They don't have a monopoly on toxins… Doesn't matter. Just watch your backs. Among cowards, the fear of death trumps honor."

With that, Braato walked off. Priam and Kazuki exchanged a look, then quietly set their plates down. Best not to grind our poison resistance with a laxative.

"Well, gentlemen, not enjoying our fine cuisine?"

Priam offered a half-smile to Rohan, who had just arrived. The young Aelbe master was wearing a cap and a scarf pulled up to his nose. He was almost unrecognizable—which was clearly the point.

"Let's just say the thought of spending the night on the toilet kind of killed our appetite."

"Ah. If you're referring to the two Gaeserts, I won't insult your intelligence by blaming food poisoning. Still, I doubt you've got anything to worry about. The clans don't care about your participation in higher-Tier fights, and I made it very clear that Jasmine is off-limits. I can't stomach the thought of a beautiful woman suffering because of me."

Priam smirked. "Not being a beautiful woman myself, I'll stay on guard. You too, apparently. That outfit—trying to avoid the Snaherts?"

Rohan's eyes crinkled. "Even drunk, they wouldn't be dumb enough to attack me. This getup's for dodging my most... enthusiastic fans. Victory tends to make them a little too excited. Speaking of winners, where's Jasmine?"

"She and the others stayed inside the High Marshall's inner world. Only Kazuki, Blueberry, and I came out to enjoy the party."

"Ah! You wouldn't miss the Gu trial, would you?"

"Gaining epic poison resistance before facing a Tier 2 Snahert sounded like a solid plan," Priam confirmed.

"See you there in two hours, then." Rohan grinned at the baffled look on Priam's face. "My father bought me a slot too."

"I'm surprised the Snaherts are willing to hand such a potent defense over to you," Kazuki remarked, suspicion evident in his tone.

Rohan shrugged and plucked a piece of fish from the plate Kazuki had pushed aside—a mocking jab at their caution.

"Ordinarily, you'd be right. But this time, the stakes are too damn high to play defense. In return for poison resistance, we're offering one of their elite the ideal version of [Art of Movement]. If you're thinking of learning it, show up tomorrow at dusk," he added, glancing at Priam.

"So, our deal still stands?" Priam asked. "With certified territory, you won't need Oasis anymore to access the Sun Auctions."

The deal brokered by Myuri and Rohan was straightforward: the Aelbes would receive unlimited access to Ymir the Merchant's store in exchange for a percentage of the Sun Points spent and one ideal epic skill for each of Oasis's three Champions. However, that commercial route would become obsolete for any clan that obtained official approval from the Empire.

"Warms my heart that you think we've already won," chuckled Rohan. "But we're not that arrogant. Besides, I don't break promises made to friends." He threw an arm around Priam's shoulders.

Priam forced a polite smile. "A noble trait," he replied, picking up his plate as a sign of respect. "But friends don't dance around the subject when something needs to be said."

Rohan burst out laughing. "No social Skills, but sharp as a blade! I like it!" He had emphasized the capital S. "You're right. I came to get your take on a possible alliance between my clan and your race."

Priam's surprise wasn't feigned. "Humanity—my people—got scattered across a thousand worlds. I'm not sure our scattered refugees can offer much to your tribe."

"You're wrong. The ones on Proxima could be useful."

"How?"

Rohan gave another shrug. "No idea. Wasn't my ancestor who won the fight on our own war-planet. But hell, one can't have too many friends, right?"

What is he hiding? Priam knew his high Charisma often coaxed secrets from the loose-lipped, but Rohan was likely immune to that kind of raw force.

"...Right. Well, I'm not against the idea of an alliance, but it seems a bit premature right now."

"Fair enough," Rohan said with a smile. "Just wanted to plant the seed. Anyway, if you'll excuse me, I've got a victory to celebrate before I dunk myself in a poison tank!"

Once the young master vanished, Priam and Kazuki shared a long, silent glance.

"What in the world was that?"

"I don't know... and that bothers me."

An hour later, Priam and Kazuki were riding Blueberry toward the shaman Snahert's manor. They had tried walking, but a drunk crowd wasn't easy to push through when you weren't a five-meter-tall bear weighing several tons.

A little girl darted across the ursine's path, and Priam felt Blueberry rumble beneath him. The child screamed and bolted.

"She couldn't have been older than six. You didn't have to growl at her."

"I didn't growl; my stomach rumbled. At that age, even the bones are tender."

That was the moment Priam realized Blueberry was deranged enough—the bear would have said visionary—to combine a babysitting business with a restaurant. He silently vowed never to entrust his future kids to his furry friend.

Two turns later, the trio arrived at a massive tent standing before an even larger manor. The whole setup was an architectural disaster, but Priam didn't bat an eye. When in Rome, you don't insult the Romans.

Leaping off his furry friend, he strode toward the two guards posted at the entrance.

"Priam Azura, Lord of Oasis."

"You may enter."

Priam stepped forward with Kazuki on his heels. However, when Blueberry approached, the guards drew their weapons.

"No beasts inside."

But Romans can insult you.

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