Chương 41: 40. The Observer (Grand Arcana)

I could see it in her smile. The siren was all but saying it. There was no other way this could have gone. A level fifteen Grand Arcana holder—a royal at that—against a third-trialer. Even if the rule-masters were inclined to set limits on her, which I doubted, the difference in strength remained vast.

"Refusing to cry?" she pulled back, leaving the dagger in me. Taking advantage of the window, I made a desperate attack with my swords only to get both of them entangled. You really are a sadistic bitch! I thought. If she had wanted to, she could have slit my throat by now, or at least made the attempt. Instead, she was intent on leaving the dagger in my stomach, while only using the thread that came from its hilt.

"No need for those." She pulled out my weapons. The blades dropped to the floor with a metallic clang.

"Tell me," I said through gritted teeth.

"Tell me what you know."

"You really are magnificent. So very magnificent. Most would be screaming in pain. You have experienced this before… and yet there is no trace of it in your mind. Spheres, cores, insignificant wounds caused by pests… No, it isn't that." She licked her lips. In a different set of circumstances, that might have seemed seductive. It wasn't me that was exciting her, though, but rather the thought of me dying.

"I'll tell you what." Her thread wrapped around my right index finger.

"You have ten fingers. For each finger I'll tell you something interesting." Before I could say a word, my finger flew off.

"Forget about the key," she continued, her eyes fixed on the blood squirting out. It took me a second to use the Two of Chalice and stop the bleeding. Once I did, her interest visibly waned.

"That's not something you should be interested in. Also, don't trust the deities." My right middle finger flew off.

"Fucking shit!" I shouted, pulling my hand back.

"Did you want me to stop?" she laughed, not making the slightest attempt to keep me from pulling away. In fact, she was almost daring me to do so.

"I thought so." Two seconds, I told myself. Maybe three. That was how far into the future she got to see. It wasn't a lot by any stretch of the imagination, yet in actual combat it felt like an eternity. There had been entire fights that finished in less.

"A lot of them are upset with you," she said.

"They can't ask because it would make them look weak, but they still don't like what you've brought."

"What did—" My ring finger flew off, bringing in a new wave of pain. Each time she cut a finger off, the pain compounded, injecting me with fear. The primitive mind screamed for me to run away. The rational mind fought on to keep me where I stood.

"I don't know what you brought," she said, looking at my missing fingers like a pyromaniac would admire a burning candle.

"The gods and goddesses have their way of looking at the world. They cast me out here when I was a child, and I still haven't learned why. Looking back, I'm glad that they did. This way I got to meet all sorts of new toys." There was no doubt about it. The trials had driven her completely insane. Maybe a long time ago, she was nothing more than a pawn of the powers that be, a challenge cast at the participants. Not anymore.

Now, even if she were offered her freedom, she'd likely turn it down, becoming addicted to the pain she inflicted on others.

"You still think you can kill me," the siren giggled.

"Your rings. You moved them all onto your left hand because you favor your right. Maybe I should cut off those fingers and watch you drown after you've lost the ability to breathe underwater?" It was natural to notice. Even without the Observer card, it was pretty obvious.

"After this trial, I'll put them on my ribs," I said.

"It's a pity you didn't. I would have enjoyed cutting them out. One rib at a—" she abruptly stopped. I could tell she had seen what I was about to do, so I did it. Serp! I summoned the blade in my left hand and performed a power thrust. The siren's eyes lit up in surprise at the sight of the weapon. When I had entered the chamber, I had assumed that she had been aware of it. Even if it was just a card, it was something she should have noticed. Apparently, Harlequin's Sight was superior after all.

The monster kept holding the thread of her weapon, yet her hands proved too slow. Faster than the blink of an eye, the tip of the saber pierced through her stomach, bursting out from the scales on her back. In a single moment, time lost all significance. Both of us stood there, floating in the water, each with a blade stuck in them.

"Magnificent," she said.

"I never saw it coming." That was new. So, she really couldn't see Serp? What she had reacted to was her actual death. Or was it?

"Don't say it," she said, the strength in her voice diminishing.

"Just let things be as they are." Her arms relaxed, letting go of the thread-dagger.

"When I told you that a dozen had killed me, I lied. No one can kill me… even you."

"What do you mean?" I asked. Before I got an answer, the siren imploded out of existence, leaving a single card in her place. See? Serp asked, ringing with enthusiasm. Told you I'd kill her! Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. No, I thought. He was wrong. Neither of us had killed her. Rather, she had allowed herself to be killed. Even if, for whatever reason, she couldn't predict Serp's actions, she would have known everything else I would have done.

If she had been serious, I might have lasted another minute, but ultimately, I could have lost, and no restriction powers would have changed that. I looked at the hole in my clothes. The Eight of Chalice had done what it was supposed to, allowing me to continue the fight with an otherwise lethal wound. Originally, my plan had been to simply restrict her actions so she could never attack in such fashion again. She had known from the very start that was likely why she had left the weapon in me.

She could have dropped a sphere, Serp complained.

"You didn't drop a sphere, either," I said as I reached out to collect the card. The moment my thumb touched it, the water and everything around me disappeared. I was in a brightly lit room with white walls and a single white table in the middle. Harlequin was also there, standing a foot away.

"Congratulations, Gregory," he said, each word bouncing off the walls of the room.

"You have completed the third trial." He bent down over me.

"Even if it was with a bit of help." I wasn't sure what he was implying. Was he talking about the golden-eyed merchant? The deity giving me hints? Or did it have to do with the siren?

"But as long as you were within the rules, your victory is accepted." I felt a slight prickling sensation coming from my right hand. When I looked, I saw that all my fingers had regrown.

"You get to keep all rewards you have earned in the course of the trial, and once your talk is over, you will be returned to the preparation hall to pick your card."

"Talk?" I asked.

"A deity has chosen to grant you the honor of a conversation." Never before had I thought it possible that porcelain could twist like a lemon, but right now I wouldn't have been surprised if it had. There was so much anger in the jester's voice that I feared the entire room might implode. It was always the same with rule-masters—they got annoyed at anything that ruined their plans, be it participants or deities.

"Wait!" I shouted, fearing he might vanish. That caught his attention. The bells on his hat jingled as the red and yellow form before me grew taller.

"I want to sacrifice a card to you," I quickly added. It was an old trick. Sacrificing a card to a rule-master temporarily reduced his anger. It was always a gable, acting as a stopgap measure at best and a waste of resources at worst. In the past run, I had rarely been significant enough to resort to it. Even after becoming a veteran, I tended to keep my head down, never engaging in things that angered him directly. This run, I couldn't risk anything happening before the fifth trial.

Even if I had to lose several of my cards only to delay his wrath, I would consider it worth it.

"Sacrifices cannot be offered before the fifth trial," he said, his voice noticeably calmer.

"But your intent has been acknowledged. It's smart of you to know your place. The deities have many favorites, and the future is always full of surprises." With that, Harlequin burst into a cloud of red and yellow fog, which quickly seeped out the edges of the room. Mentally, I let out a sigh of relief. I really hated him and it looked that this run the feelings were mutual. Using the Two of Chalice I healed my clothes, then checked the cards that I had gathered.

Both the Observer and Serpent Sword cards were there. For whatever reason, their glow seemed a bit dimmer than I remembered it.

"You okay, Serp?" I asked. The card didn't respond.

"Serp?" I asked again and focused my attention on the Observer card. THE OBSERVER (GRAND ARCANA) (Rarity – Rare) SKILLS (1/5): 1 IDENTIFY: See a detailed view of card and item properties 2??? 3??? 4??? 5??? It was a rather simple description, yet more useful than one could imagine. If I developed it a bit, I would get to see conditions for hidden skill activations, including curse breaking options. And after that, the really good skills would start to show up.

The light in the room grew brighter, indicating I was about to get a visitor. I shifted my focus back to the table. A white chair appeared at it. Naturally, the chair was on the opposite side. Before my very eyes, a silhouette appeared. It was pitch black, only vaguely resembling a human. It was impossible to make out any distinctive features. This was by design. Observer, I tried to trigger the card. There was no change.

"I didn't expect you to go through with it," a voice said, constantly shifting between male and female.

"After your help, how could I not?" I went to the other side of the table, testing the waters.

"You helped me defeat the Blade Serpent."

"No," the deity corrected.

"I helped you defeat both." A fresh wave of unease swept through my body. I had no way of telling whether she was telling the truth or playing games. There was also a possibility that another deity had helped me, and this one had only swooped in to claim the credit.

"Is this my reward for fulfilling the request?" I asked directly. Despite their cunning nature, when it came to the trials, even deities were unable to lie.

"It is," the silhouette replied.

"There are several questions you want answered. Therefore, I will make you an offer." Here we go.

"Make a pact with me, and I'll answer all the questions you have now and in the future," the silhouette offered.

"You're smart enough to know what an advantage that provides." I also knew the many sets of restrictions that came with a pact.

"Or, I can answer you one question to the best of my ability," the deity continued once it saw I hadn't taken the bait.

"Your choice."

"I would like to talk to you before that," I said. It was a common tactic for deities to leave things deliberately vague, then treat any question asked as part of the arrangement. I had experienced it myself a few times when I used to do them favors during the previous run.

"You granted me this reward, so it would be stupid of me to cut it short," I added.

"Aren't you a clever one?" The silhouette leaned forward. While it was difficult to tell, I got the impression that the deity was amused.

"There is nothing that I could tell you. Definitely not for free."

"I have heard that it is possible to perform favors without having a pact."

"No, you haven't," the silhouette said flatly.

"No one said anything of the sort during or before you entered the Grand Arcana. And yet, you're still familiar with it." The entity remained still for a few seconds, as if examining me, then gestured with its hand.

"Ask your question."

"Who betrayed me?" I went straight to the point. There were a whole host of other things I could have asked, yet none felt as burning as the answer to this.

"I do not know," the silhouette replied.

"I could tell you that it wasn't done out of pettiness or vengeance. There was something behind it, yet only the people with the key could tell." Fuck it all! I clenched my fists. I had wasted my question and gotten nothing. Well, almost nothing. I knew for a fact that the key—whatever it served for—was involved and that more than one person had betrayed me. The last group was composed of fifty people, so I already had a starting point.

Now, thanks to Harlequin's Sight, this vital piece of information, and the Observer card, all I had to do was lay eyes on one of them to know.