I’m Here to End This Fight

Chapter 60. The Hundred-Step Ceremony (2)

Step, step, step…

The sound of hundreds of footsteps merged together, creating an eerie atmosphere.

Gulp.

As they advanced further, some swallowed nervously, and others broke out in a cold sweat.

At the exact moment when the 50th batch of cadets completely exited the passage and stepped into the light…

“…Huh?!”

The person at the front gasped and came to an abrupt stop.

“What, what the…?”

The person following behind bumped into him, frowning in surprise. However, he, too, gasped when he saw what was ahead.

But they couldn’t just stop in astonishment.

There were hundreds of people behind them, after all.

The person at the front was pushed forward into the arena.

The others, who followed one by one into the circular arena, reacted similarly to the first person.

“Ah?!”

No, simply being startled would have been fortunate.

Some were so shocked they even started hiccuping.

Finally, when Yuri entered the circular arena and saw the sight before him, he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Ha? They’re welcoming us this much?”

The circular arena had appeared large from the outside, but inside, its grandeur was overwhelming.

A massive arena stood at the center, surrounded by tiered spectator seats that could hold tens of thousands of people.

And those very seats were filled with people dressed in black.

‘…Are all those people the Black Sword Corps?’

Only then did Yuri realize what this heavy and intense atmosphere was.

‘The scent of blood… and death.’

The Black Sword Corps were notorious killing machines, known worldwide.

The blood they had spilled.

The blood that had stained them.

And the deaths that clung to them.

With so many of them gathered in one place, it was no wonder the air was so suffocatingly thick.

If an ordinary person with a weak constitution were present, they would have fainted instantly from the overwhelming scent of death assaulting them from all sides.

Even those with some mana would have found it difficult to maintain their composure if they were of mediocre skill.

Indeed, a few members of the 50th batch seemed so intimidated that their movements had become sluggish.

Meanwhile, Yuri quickly scanned the surroundings.

‘Huh?’

Something caught Yuri’s eye.

It was a section of the spectator seats that looked different from the rest.

The seating was located deeper within the arena.

It was clearly a special area reserved for distinguished individuals.

A single luxurious chair was placed in that special spectator area.

Next, Yuri’s attention was drawn to a line that started from beneath the special seats and extended across the arena floor.

‘What is that?’

White lines, drawn at regular intervals as if forming concentric circles centered on the special seats.

‘One, two, three, four….’

He roughly counted, and there seemed to be around 100 white lines in total.

While Yuri was distracted by the sight, the procession of the 50th batch stopped at the outermost of these white lines.

Then, a voice rang out.

“Line up!”

At the loud command, the 50th batch moved faster than they ever had before.

With tens of thousands of eyes watching them, they naturally became tense.

However, since they hadn’t yet received formal training, their attempts at alignment were awkward and uncoordinated.

Still, they somehow managed to line up in rows and columns.

Step.

The one-eyed deputy commander, Duran Bikovich, stood before the 50th batch.

“We will now begin the 50th initiation ceremony for the Dragon’s Cradle.”

Even though it was a significant moment marking the start of the ceremony, there was a hint of amusement in Duran’s voice.

Duran made a small gesture toward his subordinates behind him.

Flick.

At his signal, dozens of Black Sword Corps members moved quickly, distributing something to the 50th batch of cadets.

What they handed out was a piece of paper pinned to a thin wooden board and a quill.

The cadets, who received the wooden boards in confusion, blinked as they read the word at the top of the document.

Last Will

Just two words.

Beneath it was a large blank space.

It was obvious to anyone that they were being asked to write their last will right here and now.

The cadets, who had expected some sort of ceremonial event upon hearing it was an initiation ceremony, were startled and widened their eyes at the unexpected task of writing their wills.

Duran responded to their questioning looks.

“In this land of the Cradle, you can do anything. Of course, there are a few rules you’ll have to follow to enjoy that freedom… but you’ll learn about those in due time. For now, there are just two things you need to engrave in your minds.”

Duran raised his index finger, and his one eye gleamed.

“First, the strong take it all! The strongest one gets everything. The weak should just shut up and kneel!”

Next, he raised his middle finger.

“Second, if you want to become stronger, win by any means necessary. To win, we even permit justified murder.”

“…?!”

The hearts of the 50th batch of cadets dropped at his words.

In the Forest of Beginnings, everything had been allowed except for murder.

But now things had changed.

He was officially announcing that even murder would be permitted if it had a reason.

Although these children had lived in a world of competition, the concept of murder was still unfamiliar to them.

Allowing murder meant someone might die.

It could be someone close to them, or perhaps… it could be them.

Realizing this, the cadets finally understood.

The ground they were standing on was not a refined academy for learning and cultivating skills.

This place was like a battlefield.

And Duran, reading their expressions, smirked.

“Why, is it finally sinking in? Do you understand the situation you’re in?”

His one eye was filled with amusement as he raised his middle finger toward the 50th batch.

“You’re screwed now. Kekeke.”

Kekeke.

Duran’s laugh, like phlegm-filled coughing, made the wills in the hands of the 50th batch feel unbearably heavy.

Seeing this, Duran chuckled.

“What are you doing? Hurry up and start writing.”

“…….”

“Why? Can’t you do it? It’s not too late yet. Just say the word, and I’ll send you home.”

His sneering tone made the atmosphere even heavier.

However, while everyone else was deeply serious, one person stood out, seemingly indifferent to the situation.

Dig.

Despite the tense atmosphere around him, Yuri was simply bored.

‘What is he going on about? Did they think we came to the Cradle without being prepared for this?’

To him, it was absurd that the atmosphere had turned so grim over something as simple as writing a will.

Whoosh.

Yuri blew off the earwax from his pinky finger and picked up the quill to start writing his will. But then, he blinked at the sentence written at the very bottom of the document.

[I swear that if I disclose anything about the Dragon’s Cradle, I will pay for that sin with my life, and I will never reveal its secrets even after death.]

Yuri couldn’t help but laugh when he saw it.

‘Is this a last will, or a non-disclosure agreement?’

It seemed like the people of this Cradle had gotten lazy.

Trying to handle two things at once like this.

‘Isn’t this basically bundling a non-disclosure agreement with a last will?’

Whatever the case, it didn’t matter to him.

Whether it was a last will or a non-disclosure agreement.

It didn’t matter what it was; there wouldn’t be any problems.

Yuri picked up the quill and began to write on the document with flair.

Scratch, scratch.

It took him less than 30 seconds to complete his last will.

He then handed it over to the Black Sword Corps member waiting nearby.

It was the first will submitted out of the 300 cadets in the 50th batch.

The submission of the first will, in the midst of such a tense atmosphere, served to break the stagnation.

As Yuri took the lead, others quickly snapped out of their daze.

‘Yeah, after coming all this way!’

‘Life in the Cradle is just beginning! There’s no way I’m giving up now over something like this!’

They gritted their teeth and started writing their wills.

Of course, not everyone was that serious.

Many of them wrote their wills with surprising composure.

These were the ones who had already suspected that the Cradle was such a place.

So, under the watchful eyes of tens of thousands, the 50th batch of cadets continued writing their wills.

The Black Sword Corps member who received Yuri’s will looked between the document and Yuri with a rather sour expression.

It was as if he was silently asking if this was really okay.

Despite the intense gaze, Yuri simply shrugged without changing his expression.

“What’s the matter?”

“…….”

“What?”

“…….”

The Black Sword Corps member, unable to do anything about Yuri’s shameless attitude, reluctantly handed the will over to Duran.

When Duran received it, he couldn’t help but chuckle.

I am immortal.

It was a will that was very much like Yuri—completely lacking any sense of tension.

Thus, this short and messy will was placed at the very bottom of the pile.

The next will to be submitted, almost simultaneously with Yuri’s, was Poppy’s.

Slide.

Yuri, who had Poppy on his left and Arin on his right, casually peeked at Poppy’s will as he handed it over to the Black Sword Corps member.

And at that moment, a thought escaped from his lips without even passing through his brain.

“…This guy’s the real deal.”

There was a reason Yuri had to say that.

Poppy’s will contained only one word.

I’m hungry.

…It seemed this guy really wasn’t pretending after all.

Following Yuri and Poppy, many others began submitting their wills.

Some wrote short and simple wills like Yuri and Poppy.

Others carefully deliberated on what words to leave behind.

Various types of wills were being submitted.

Of course, there were still those who were writing their wills even after a considerable amount of time had passed.

Among them was Arin.

Arin Helga, who was writing her will with a more serious expression than anyone else.

Curious about what she was writing so intently, Yuri sneaked a peek at her will.

And once again, he found himself muttering the same words.

“…She’s the real deal too.”

Cake, butter cookies, roasted chicken, boiled chicken, fish stew with black sauce, bread with apple jam, egg-coated toast, southern-style noodles…

…He decided it was better to stop reading there.

‘She’s definitely not in her right mind either.’

Her will was filled with the names of various foods written in small handwriting.

That little exercise only stopped when there was no more space left to write.

Hers was the very last will to be completed.

Arin’s will, filled to the brim with food names, was placed at the top of the pile.

When Duran saw it, his expression was one of disbelief.

Arin Helga, Yuri Holland, and that guy named Poppy Something-or-other.

The three were standing in a row.

‘Of course, these kinds of people would stick together.’

It was strange how they managed to gather together, even if by chance.

It was truly remarkable.

“Tsk!”

Duran clicked his tongue and waved his hand dismissively.

At his signal, his subordinate collected the wills and disappeared.

And so, the event, whether it was an initiation ceremony or just writing wills, came to an end.

“Congratulations, you fools who have willingly jumped into the flames of hell! With this, you are now officially the 50th batch of the Cradle.”

As those words ended, Duran stomped his foot.

Boom!

It was just the sound of a human foot hitting the ground.

But the impact it made was louder than dozens of cannons firing at once.

The sound was so intense that some of the cadets had to cover their ears.

And that was the signal.

Step, step, step.

The tens of thousands of spectators.

The black-clad audience who had been watching the arena all stood up at once.

At the same time, the one-eyed man drew a short ceremonial sword and turned his body.

In the direction of the special seats Yuri had noticed earlier.

Swish.

Following his lead, all the Black Sword Corps members in the audience drew identical ceremonial swords.

It was a movement executed with perfect precision, without the slightest error.

“What, what’s going on?!”

“……?”

The cadets were confused and startled by the scene, but someone murmured.

“…I’ve heard of this. It’s the Sword Salute!”

Each Black Sword Corps member came from a different background, so their preferred weapons varied.

But there was one type of sword that they all shared in common.

It was a ceremonial dagger they received upon becoming a member of the Black Sword Corps.

Simply called the Black Dagger, this dagger was only used for one specific ceremony.

Step.

Duran Bikovich raised his Black Dagger in front of his chest.

In unison, tens of thousands of people assumed the same posture toward the special seats.

Step.

The tip of the sword, pointed to the sky in front of their hearts.

It was a gesture signifying their reverence toward their great master.

Swish.

As the raised daggers slashed diagonally downward, cutting through the air.

It was a pledge from the servants to cut down their enemies for their great master.

This unique and solemn ritual, called the Sword Salute, was directed toward the special seats to which all the Black Sword Corps members had shown their reverence…

A single person stepped into view.