293: The Special Prize

293: The Special Prize

Another volunteering? Beatrice remembered how the last time worked out for all but one of the volunteers. She around and wondered who’d be stupid enough to fall for the same trick twice.

“Come now, don’t be shy! Two on one, three on one, ten on one—all perfectly legal! You have but one opponent! If Number Forty dies, everyone who fights against her advances to the next round while also keeping the weapon of their choice. And the one to deal a killing blow will win a special prize: one night with princess Mary!”

“WHAT!?” Ruby exclaimed.

Gossip instantly spread through the crowds.

“I know, I know, it’s a little hard to believe,” the announcer nodded and snickered. “After all, why would a princess lower herself to contact with some commoner rabble? Especially if she was already promised to one of the High Priest’s sex cultists. But worry not!

“Her father is a very reasonable man… When offered certain gifts

, hehe! Not to mention that it’s for a good cause, since the princess’s daddy wanted her to learn how to properly please men. Everybody wins!”

Laughter broke out among the spectators.

Beatrice recalled how the King snorted some kind of powder in plain view of his court, and some of the rumors that circulated about the King whose name commanded no respect among the people.

“But just in case some spoiled little princess is not to your fancy, I’ll throw in another bonus: any man or woman from any of our entertainment booths! You may pick up to three of them! They will expertly fulfill any of your deepest, wildest fantasies… As long as you kill that old fuck’s cocksucker of a niece!!”

The announcer audibly and deeply breathed a lung full of air, breathed out, and asked cheerfully, “Any takers?”

Beatrice sighed when she saw more than half of the remaining participants rush forward, hurrying to take whichever they viewed as the best weapon. Beatrice was glad that at least Olivia resisted the temptation of a promise of an easy victory.

“Pathetic,” the ninja girl said. “Either they’re rushing to gang up on a single opponent for the promise of sex they’re incapable of otherwise getting, or they’re rushing to gain an advantage without which they know they do not stand a chance against some of the powerhouses here.”

“She did promise them a night with a princess,” Beatrice reminded and realized something only after she said it. “… Does that even count for anything in this city?”

“If even a tenth of the rumors about the royal family is true, I wouldn’t want to even touch any of the princesses.”

“That bad, huh?” Beatrice muttered, remembering how she—horny out of her mind—let herself be touched by that particular princess and enjoyed the experience quite a lot. Good thing that I was specific about the STDs.

“At least we’re not the only ones disinterested in that announcer’s vendetta,” Olivia said as it became clear which participants joined and which stayed. Not counting Number Seventeen who had already advanced anyway, only five participants remained. The giant Number Seven, the redhead in white and blue uniform, Olivia, Beatrice, and some generic beastkin woman.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

“If that girl manages to win, Number Seven will be the only guy left,” Olivia said.

“I’m a little surprised that the Fridge did not join with the others,” Beatrice said. “He didn’t seem like a guy with moral objections to such things.”

“The who?” Olivia asked.

“The-ah, right! Number Seven,” Beatrice corrected herself.

“Hm… Maybe he likes a challenge?”

“Or he wants to see her in combat first?”

“Shame on you!” Number Fifty, the girl in a white and blue uniform, shouted to the participants that rushed to the weapons. “What a despicable, unfair setup!”

“’Shame’!? ‘Unfair’!?” the announcer snapped. “That little cocksucker willingly decided to participate in the Forge of Champions! As did her ‘poor dear uncle’! Did I force them to participate? Did they forget what they signed up for?

“Then the putrid little fuck dares to attack ME!? And she has the audacity to demand anything!? Number Forty wanted special treatment and she got it! You don’t see her complaining!”

Indeed, the girl did not complain as she watched her opponents pick through the weapons.

“So shut the fuck up and enjoy the show!” the announcer added. “I know I will!”