After a short walk through the winding streets, they finally arrived at the rear entrance of the arena — a heavy stone archway where the registration for participants was underway. The clatter of armoured boots and the murmur of eager combatants echoed through the narrow courtyard.
It didn't take long for Kaito to approach the registrar's table. After paying the modest entry fee of one copper coin, the silent knight was officially entered into the competition under the simple alias: Shadow.
A quick glance around confirmed the scale of the event. Over two hundred participants had gathered, ranging from hardened mercenaries and young adventurers to grizzled knights and wandering swordsmen. The air crackled with anticipation and ambition.
According to the posted rules, all participants would first engage in a large preliminary melee. The last thirty combatants standing on the field would then advance to individual matchups before the Duke himself.
Kaito crossed his arms and turned toward his knight, a thoughtful look in his eyes."What weapon do you want to use?" he asked casually.
The knight's response came without hesitation, his voice deep and composed. "I require no weapon to defeat these opponents, Master."
"That won't do," Kaito said flatly, shaking his head. "You'll need a weapon — appearances matter. Also… calling you Shadow all the time is getting tedious. You need a proper name."
He paused for a moment, smirking as inspiration struck."From now on, you'll be called Grim Reaper. It suits you. And try not to draw too much attention just yet — we don't want the whole empire knowing about us too soon."
The knight gave a small bow of acknowledgement, accepting the name without question.
Kaito exhaled thoughtfully and lifted his right hand subtly after making sure no one around was paying them much attention."Guess I'll have to handle this myself."
With a flick of his wrist and a quiet breath, Kaito summoned the familiar translucent window before him — the glowing interface of his shop materialising in the air, visible only to his eyes.
His fingers moved swiftly, tapping at the floating keys. In the search bar at the top, he typed a single word: Scythe.
Dozens of results appeared in neat rows, each accompanied by images, descriptions, and prices. His sharp eyes scanned through them methodically, dismissing the mediocre and the ordinary without hesitation. He wasn't looking for something average — he wanted something that would make a statement.
Then, at last, his gaze locked onto it.
Item: Scythe — 6ft High-Carbon Titanium Scythe Description: A masterpiece of craftsmanship, forged from high-carbon steel with a razor-sharp edge capable of cutting through the toughest armour. The handle, crafted from reinforced titanium, offers unmatched durability and a perfect balance. The weapon boasts intricate silver inlays swirling along the shaft, and the blade curves elegantly. Price: 450,000 yen
Kaito's lips curled into a satisfied grin."Now that's more like it."
Without a moment's hesitation, he tapped the purchase button.
A faint shimmer of light sparkled before him, and in an instant, the massive scythe materialised in his hands. The cool steel glinted under the sunlight, the intricate silver patterns dancing along its pitch-black shaft. The weapon radiated both elegance and lethal power, far superior to anything forged in this medieval realm.
He turned and handed the scythe to Grim Reaper, who took it with silent reverence. The knight spun the weapon gracefully once in his hands, the curved blade cutting cleanly through the air with a low hiss. He said I thank you, master, for this gift, and I will treasure it forever.
Kaito smirked."Perfect fit."
Just then, the booming voice of the event supervisor rang out across the grounds."All participants! Report to the arena!"
Without another word, Grim Reaper stepped forward, blending seamlessly into the wave of competitors flowing into the grand stone coliseum — the massive scythe resting on his shoulder like it weighed nothing.
The battle that followed was nothing short of brutal. Steel clashed, and cries of pain echoed across the dusty arena floor. Many fell swiftly — some dead, others gravely injured — while a handful gave up and fled before they could suffer worse fates. The crowd roared with excitement, the chaos feeding their bloodlust.
Among the throng, there were those who laughed maniacally as they fought, and others who wore grim, defeated expressions. But one figure, more than any other, drew hushed whispers and wide-eyed stares.
A man wielding that massive scythe.
He didn't move a single step from where he stood. Every opponent who approached him collapsed in an instant, struck down effortlessly with precise, non-lethal blows. Not a single soul died by his hand, but none could remain standing near him.
By the end of the preliminary round, a rumour had already begun sweeping through the crowd and the city beyond.