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

"Did you just call me a beast?" the bear rumbled.

"Who else?" retorted the Tier 1 guard. Despite the Soul gap between them, it took guts to face down a bear the size of a house.

"Funny. Priam, can I eat him?"

Through the entrance, Priam spotted Ophis watching him with a vicious smile. The guard wasn't brave—he had orders. You want to play that game? Fine.

"Bon appétit."

In a blur, Blueberry swatted the guard off his feet and snatched him by the legs. Two claws carefully pried apart the armor, lifting the unfortunate man to the level of the bear's yawning jaws. As the unfortunate man screamed in terror, the second guard remained frozen. A kinetic prison held him more firmly than if he were encased in concrete.

Lvl Up: [Intimidation] lvl 16
CHAR +3

Ophis's smirk faltered the moment his subordinate disappeared halfway into Blueberry's mouth.

"Enough!" he shouted as the bear's jaws began to close. "Release him."

Blueberry glanced at Priam, who shrugged. "Pretty sure he pissed himself. You don't want to eat that."

The bear pulled the Snahert guard from his mouth, wrinkled his nose, sniffed, then flung him over his shoulder with a disgusted snort. When the soldier landed on the roof of a nearby house, his scream of terror turned into one of pain.

"Hello, everyone," Priam said cheerfully as he stepped inside the tent. He deliberately ignored Ophis. "Is this the right place for the Gu trial?"

"You're late," pointed out a woman who looked ageless, seated at the back of the room. Sna, the Poison Lady. A toxic girl.

"Blame the two idiots outside," Priam said with an apologetic shrug.

"A subordinate's mistake is the leader's fault," Kazuki added dryly.

The atmosphere turned cold until a peal of laughter shattered the ice. "Well, I was warned Champions rarely care for Tier etiquette. In a way, it's refreshing." The cheerful voice belonged to an elf leaning against one of the vats lining the tent. "Thyvael, apprentice to the High Marshal. The Snaherts were kind enough to let me observe this Gu Trial."

Priam dipped his head respectfully. The elf radiated no overwhelming pressure like a Transcendent, but Priam's draconic instincts whispered that this man was a monster. Almost Braato level… Tier 4? Or a powerful Tier 3?

"Tier 2."

Priam didn't flinch as the voice rang in his head. Around him, the rest of the participants and attendees resumed their conversations.

"You are in mortal danger."

"Pleasure to see you too, Esmée."

Out of the corner of his eye, Priam saw the young woman smirk slightly while Rohan, Aydan, and a middle-aged empyrean chatted near her. That smile wasn't for them.

"I'm glad to see you too. Want to know more about the assassination attempt?"

"Absolutely. Also curious how you found out."

"I robbed this manor a few hours ago. The shaman had slipped a Tier 3 scorpion into your vat."

Priam had to force himself not to stare at his rival. Robbing a poison specialist wasn't good for one's life expectancy, and one wouldn't readily associate Esmée's majesty with the allure of a seasoned adventurer. Then again, underestimating his rivals was the height of stupidity.

"Why me?"

"Why not? The High Marshal promised two official territories. Not three. Not four. With the Necromoon looming, there won't be two winners and two losers. There'll be two survivors and two corpses." The mental equivalent of a shrug brushed against Priam's mind. "They just want to get rid of a nuisance. It's nothing personal."

"It's personal to me," Priam muttered, eyes fixed on one of the vats. It was draped in a veil that blocked his perception, Aura, and even instinct thanks to a fascinating series of runes. With them, the audience wouldn't be able to influence the candidate's experience once submerged. He began studying the sigils using a parallel thought. "For the past two hours, I've had the creeping feeling this tournament isn't going to be the clean, noble affair they sold us."

"The Demiurge gave his word: the duels will be judged fairly, and the victors crowned with laurels. However, he never said anything about the rest, which is tacit consent. Dirty tricks are allowed—especially once he leaves to hunt the Fallen."

"When the cat's away, the mice will play... What if someone tries to bribe him?"

"If the combined wealth of all three clans were lying in the dirt, the High Marshal wouldn't bother to stoop and pick it up."

"Mmh. What about the scorpion?"

Esmee could have made up the whole story. The existence of that arachnid could confirm her words.

"I moved it to another vat. Number eleven, if you are eager to die."

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Priam was eager to die—but not in front of the tribes. Even the presence of Thyvael, the High Marshal's apprentice, wasn't enough to make him feel safe showing vulnerability in front of two Tier 4s who…

Damn. They really want to kill me.

Strangely, the thought of being targeted by two monsters capable of snuffing out his life with ease didn't spark fear. Instead, it lit a fire of fury. Priam had come here with the best intentions, to compete in a tournament that could elevate Oasis. His only wish had been to raise the standard of living for his family, friends, and followers. To make his home better. Safer. An aspiration as pure as it was naïve, apparently...

Not once had Priam considered scheming to rob the worthy of their rewards, to steal another's rightful gains—his thefts during the Reunion didn't count; his targets had betrayed humanity for mere baubles.

Still, the Champion was no angel either. His mercy rarely extended beyond his own circle. Despite the name of his Aura, Priam wasn't some selfless hero.

He was the Juggernaut. And being betrayed by his hosts awakened a terrible grudge within him.

If it's every man for himself... fine. I can be greedy too.

"You are very quiet."

The mental voice brought him back to the present.

"I'm thinking."

"Mmh. I would be willing to trade some of the goodwill you are surely feeling toward me right now if you would share those thoughts."

"Goodwill… Is that all you want for your warning?"

A warning was no salvation, and Priam knew Esmee would catch the nuance. He was willing to repay a favor, but at a fair price.

"That—and your help, should it ever cost you little to act in my favor."

"Fair terms… I've decided to stop being nice. Or naïve. Call it what you want. From now on, I'm taking everything my enemies have to offer—for me, and for Oasis."

Ideal skills were only one piece of what Priam craved. Because of the dragon, greed was written into his blood. If only two factions would remain standing by the end of the tournament, then Oasis would be one of them.

Maybe even the only one. With Dishnu and Arnold at his side, it was more than possible. Esmee too…

He kept that thought buried, but deep within his mind, a vision sparked. Give a man a dream and he could conquer the world. When that man was the Juggernaut, the conditional gave way to the future tense.

"And who are your enemies?"

"Anyone willing to harm me or my friends."

His decision was made, and action needed to follow. Glancing around, Priam noted the two dozen people in the hall had split into small groups, weaving alliances like spiders spinning webs.

As if I'll let you pull strings without me.

Priam clapped his hands together. The crack of compressed air was loud enough to turn every head.

"Well then, we've got a duel tomorrow—and unlike the losers, I need to be on time. Shall we?"

The nearby Snaherts shot him glares, and their leader let a hint of the pressure of his transcendent soul leak into the room. Despite the threat, Priam didn't blink. He knew Ophis was too pusillanimous to strike with the High Marshal's apprentice watching. And if he was wrong, Kazuki had packed several nukes.

"Impatient, but not wrong. The insects are ready. The Gu Trial shall commence," the shaman intoned. "Candidates, take your places."

Priam stepped toward the nearest vat, only for a servant to block his path.

"Not that one, sir. My clanmates require a less powerful trial since they already possess the ideal rare resistance and thus need one fewer prerequisite than you. Follow me, if you please."

The Juggernaut smiled. The excuse made perfect sense. Without Esmee's warning, he wouldn't have noticed a thing, still incensed by Blueberry's treatment. Ah. They insulted my friend on purpose, he realized. The spark of respect owed to formidable foes flickered inside him, reminding Priam that his revenge would need to be as ruthless as it was final.

To the side of his vat, a rope ladder waited. Thanks to Domain, Priam spotted a sabotage: the last few rungs had been sliced. Climbing it would send him crashing to the ground—a petty way to humiliate an unwelcome guest.

A heavy thump made him turn. The unknown empyrean was lying on the ground. Red with anger, the man got up without a word and began climbing the eleventh vat. The trapped one.

"Who's that?"

"My uncle."

"I thought you couldn't go against your own?"

"He won't die from the scorpion's venom—I made sure of that. If he survives, he will earn a prerequisite for a poison resistance of higher rarity. A great boon, hence why my geas allowed the swap."

Something in Esmee's voice gave Priam chills. She didn't sound like someone doing a favor for a family she hated.

Ignoring the empyrean's fate, Priam levitated to the top of his vat and stood on the hatch he found there.

"If possible, I'd like to recover the scorpion," he said as the others settled into place.

"The arthropod or the venom?"

"The venom."

It would prove the veracity of Esmee's statements, and serve as a key to that mentioned ideal prerequisite.

"I shall explore feasible courses of action."

The shaman cleared her throat and launched into a synoptic description of what the trial would entail. When she finished, Priam turned to Kazuki and blinked twice with his right eye.

If anything went wrong, the camp would be drowned in a wave of nuclear wrath.

"Good luck," Kazuki offered.

"Luck's got nothing to do with it," Priam said. "But thanks."

The next instant, the hatch opened, and he broke through a cold surface. A liquid as thick as syrup greeted him. As if alive, it surged against him, forcing itself into his pores.

The pain was both intense and vicious. For an instant, Priam lost control of Micro and gasped. As his mouth and lids opened, the toxin rushed down his throat and burrowed behind his eye sockets.

Overwhelmed by agony, Priam didn't realize he had reached the bottom of the vat until multiple appendages stung him. Finding a breach, the venom invaded his bloodstream.

Pain.

Two heartbeats later, the toxic liquid reached vital organs, inflicting irreversible damage.

Torture.

His soul pulsed. Talents, Titles, and Merits activated to support the mutation of his cells. The adaptation began.

Lvl Up: [Poison Body] lvl 35
CONST +1
VIT +1
META (Endurance) +1

A second heartbeat made the vat tremble with its power.

Lvl Up: [Poison Body] lvl 36
CONST +1
VIT +1
META (Endurance) +1

The Juggernaut opened his eyes, welcoming the instrument of his evolution.

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