Reformation of the Deadbeat Noble - Chapter 168

WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ Reformation of the Deadbeat Noble

Chapter 168

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Judith's Way (3)

The fire spirit burned more intensely than any of the other elemental energies.

Handled properly, that scorching, radiating force could outmatch anything else.

But that was only true when the fire was handled well.

Fire Energy was a fickle, dangerous spirit to control, just as likely to burn its wielder as it was the enemy.

And yet Judith kept throwing herself into that fire, using it without hesitation.

Karakum could see it clearly, a hot, fierce energy pouring out of her with every step, every punch.

The problem was that the human wasn't controlling the flame at all.

'She's not handling it. She's just enduring it.'

Terrifying firepower.

He couldn't tell what emotion had sparked it, what had caused it to rise, but the scorching energy had spread through her entire body.

That energy wasn't only pouring onto Garam. It was burning her too.

And yet she didn't fall.

She didn't crumble into ash.

Any ordinary person would have collapsed several times over by now, yet she just kept standing there, taking it, stubbornly enduring.

As if she'd been doing this her whole life.

Karakum shook his head, baffled.

This was a different kind of shock from the one he'd felt watching Airen Farreira's steel aura.

"Hmm."

Even Gorha, the great spirit mage, let out a low sound, as though he felt it too.

If a man that stoic could show surprise in his eyes, there was no need to explain just how fierce that human's flame really was.

Karakum turned his focus back to the stage.

The human with hair like burning embers charged forward again. This time, Garam's kick missed.

Crack!

Craack!

But being at close range didn't limit Garam's strikes.

He couldn't beat her down one-sidedly the way he could from a distance, but even up close, he had more than enough weapons to use.

His elbow, hard as a boulder, hammered into Judith's temple, again and again.

Of course, Judith's attacks came just as fast. Flame-wrapped aura, concentrated into her fist, planted a searing ache deep into Garam's stomach.

Thud!

Thuud!

"Ngh..."

A low groan slipped through Garam's clenched teeth.

The situation wasn't bad, though. He'd failed to end it cleanly without taking damage, but even this exchange of blows still favored him overall.

Aura, strength, build. He outmatched her in every one.

As long as he kept his head up and endured the pain, the only part of him she could hit was his torso.

Meanwhile, he could target anything, her face included.

Sure, the unexpected pain was irritating, but if even that irritation could be turned into fuel, it wasn't a bad trade.

Garam, his body burning hot, reached out for Judith. She dodged, but he'd expected that.

Grab!

He hooked an arm around the back of her head and drove knee strikes in, one after another.

Crack!

Craack!

Craaang!

Blows landed again and again, brutal and blunt enough to shatter stone with a chisel.

Garam's legs moved in rhythm, each strike ringing out with a satisfying crack.

That was his mistake.

Once Judith caught the rhythm, she stomped down hard on the top of his foot the instant it landed.

Crunch!

"Aaargh...!"

The clinch finally broke, and Judith's face emerged from where it had been buried against him.

She was a mess. Swollen skin covered in torn, bleeding marks, everywhere.

Her face, red with blood, looked like something out of hell.

Tallying up the damage, this exchange had cost her far more than it had cost him.

But Judith didn't stop.

Rage and every other dark emotion she carried were burning her up, and at the same time, holding her upright.

The human turned fire demon drove herself straight into the orc warrior's chest.

'This is insane!'

Garam didn't meet her charge head-on.

He knew, in his head, exactly what to do.

With one foot ruined, he couldn't fight a distance battle using his longer reach, but taking the fight to close range wouldn't put him at any disadvantage either.

If he kept trading blows like this, absorbing damage while pounding her down, he'd win in the end. He knew that much.

But his body wouldn't obey. It had started refusing to face her head on.

His expression twisted, ugly, as though the fire chasing him down had frightened something deep inside.

He dragged his ruined foot behind him, retreating.

Judith chased him down without mercy.

And drove her knee hard into the inside of his thigh.

Thunk!

"...!"

The sound was like a dagger sinking into flesh. Muscle tearing.

It meant Garam's mobility was about to drop even further.

But his weight was still planted behind him. He kept swinging fists and elbows, but none of it carried any real force.

Judith dodged the attack, clumsy and weak as it was, then closed in again and fired off another knee strike. Same spot.

Thunk!

"AAAARGH!"

The loudest sound yet to come out of Garam's mouth since the fight began.

But his voice got swallowed up by the crowd.

Astonishingly, every orc gathered in the arena, without exception, was cheering for Judith now, not Garam.

"Human! Human!"

"Judith! Judith!"

"Chase him down! Kill him!"

"Judith! Judith!"

These were orcs, whose pride in their race ran several times deeper than any human's, warriors of Durkali whose pride in their tribe ran dozens of times deeper still.

That was exactly why they could tell.

Who looked more like a true warrior in this trial. Who was fighting with the fiercer will.

It didn't matter whether someone was orc or human.

It didn't matter who was judging whom.

At least in this moment, that red-haired human was a greater warrior than the tribe's high-ranking one.

"Hah, ptooey!"

Judith paid none of it any mind.

She could barely hear it in the first place. Every one of her senses was locked onto Garam alone.

A curse that wouldn't lift until he went down.

So she'd make him go down. Break him. Unravel this thing between them.

Grinning, Judith spat out a mouthful of blood and started walking. Fear flickered across Garam's face.

'Get away from me!'

He shouted it in his head and swung his right hand.

His stance was a mess, his breathing ragged, but the blow still carried real force. It just lacked precision.

Tick.

His fist grazed past Judith's ear.

Slipping inside by a hair's breadth, she threw a punch with everything she had at his head, already pulling back out of reach.

A heavy thud, and his head snapped upward.

Garam hit hard enough to lift off his feet, then crashed flat on his back.

That was the end of it.

Watching Judith finish the second trial, the orcs began chanting her name.

"Judith!"

"Judith! Judith!"

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

Warriors calling her name and stomping the ground.

Footsteps echoing like an earthquake.

Judith, catching on late, blinked in confusion before grinning wide and thrusting a fist into the air.

It looked similar to how things had gone after the first trial, but the reaction this time was completely different.

The orcs' voices rose even louder.

"Pahun! Pahun!"

"Pahun! Come out! Pahun!"

The orcs who'd been chanting Judith's name suddenly turned their attention elsewhere.

The name of the third trial, Pahun, Master Halifa's second son, shook heaven and earth.

Swallowing hard, he looked at the red-haired human.

Beaten up by his older brother Garam's fists and kicks, she looked like a wreck.

Not just swollen and torn. It wouldn't have been strange if a few bones were cracked, too.

Even so, Pahun couldn't calm the trembling in his chest.

The moment a possible scene of his own defeat flashed through his mind, his whole body turned cold, as if he'd walked straight into a northern blizzard.

"Pahun! Pahun!"

The orcs didn't care.

It didn't matter anymore who won.

What they wanted, more than that, was a fight impressive enough to keep this heat from cooling, to keep this spark from dying out. That alone was enough.

But that simple expectation pressed down on Pahun's shoulders harder than anything else could have.

Of course, that didn't mean he could refuse to step up.

Swallowing hard, his throat dry, Pahun was just starting to walk toward the stage, his face set stiff, when it happened.

Grab.

Someone else caught his shoulder.

Pahun turned, a flicker of irritation on his face, then froze in shock.

The one who'd grabbed his shoulder paid him no mind at all, walking forward with steady, unhurried steps. Then climbed onto the stage.

"....."

The orcs, seeing him, went rigid too, and their stomping stopped.

The chants calling for Pahun died down.

Master Halifa.

The second-strongest warrior of the great Durkali tribe walked toward the blood-soaked, red-haired human.

Watching that massive shadow fall over her, a filthy curse tore out of Judith's mouth.

"Shit..."

"This isn't good. This is too much..."

"Stop."

Airen Farreira rose from his seat.

His expression twisted, as if he might summon his Greatsword right then and there, and he opened his mouth to speak.

But Brett stopped him.

Feeling the arm blocking his way, Airen turned, startled, and Brett spoke.

"When you said you were fighting Illia, we felt the same way. But we didn't stop you."

"....."

"If you understand that feeling, then don't stop Judith now. If you want to step in, do it after the trial's over."

Brett said his piece calmly, then sat back down.

Airen watched him for a moment, then quietly settled back into his own seat.

Despite his blunt expression, a thin line of blood was running down the corner of Brett's mouth.

Illia looked back and forth between Brett and Judith, her eyes serious.

Lulu glared at the stage, poised to transform at any moment.

None of it mattered. Master Halifa didn't slow his steps.

Judith's body trembled.

A heavy feeling, like a massive, solid boulder, like some ancient tree that had grown huge over countless years.

Even though he stood shorter than Garam, shorter even than Gunt, something far more massive than either of them felt like it was closing in.

The flame raging inside her flickered, its intensity dimming for a moment.

But only for a moment.

Fresh jealousy and inferiority welled up, and the rage and fighting spirit born from them gave Judith a new jolt of fuel.

Blazing back to life, she settled into her stance.

And said,

"Come at me."

She looked pitiful.

Swollen, split open, streaked with blood, nothing like the way she'd looked stepping onto the stage at the start, her appearance clearly seemed unworthy of facing Halifa.

But Karakum could tell.

Tarakhan could tell.

Gorha the spirit mage could tell.

Fire still ran through that red-haired human's body, and it wouldn't go out until she died.

And, of course.

Master Halifa, the second-strongest warrior of Durkali, understood that fact better than anyone.

"We've lost."

"What?"

"We've lost. You've cleared all three trials."

"....."

With those words, Master Halifa turned and left the arena.

Pahun followed behind him, his face stunned, and once more the orcs' voices rang through the arena.