Igula frowned, puzzled.
After Ash Heath asked him a question so absurdly naive it bordered on idiotic, the man fell into deep contemplation.
But Igula refused to believe Ash was a fool—he wouldn't admit to being bested by one.
"You've figured out why Valkas challenged you?" he asked, watching Ash closely.
Ash snapped out of his thoughts, cautiously answering, "Because of that child?"
Igula nodded.
"That's my conclusion as well," he said. "Valkas has spent five years in this prison without causing trouble. He's never needed to challenge anyone—just harvesting the contribution points of those who annoy him is enough to live comfortably."
"For him to suddenly step into the ring, the only reason must be that child. His actions in the past—risking everything, including his reputation and freedom, to raise that kid—prove how much they mean to him."
"That child is now in an orphanage, under state education. Many people have contact with them, but only one person could connect that child, Valkas, and you."
"That person is Shilin Dorr."
The name rang a faint bell in Ash's mind, though he couldn't place it.
"Who's Shilin?"
Igula leaned closer, eyes narrowing. "Don't move."
He reached out and poked Ash's cheek. "Ask again."
"Who's Shilin?"
Igula sighed, retracting his hand. "Shilin Dorr is a history professor at Kaiman Comprehensive University, president of the Elven Rights Advocacy Association, and holds countless other titles. But most importantly, he's an advisor to the university's Ancient Relic Research Society."
Ash blinked, the pieces slowly fitting together.
"I… was a member of the Ancient Relic Research Society?"
"Technically, you're still its president," Igula said. "Though I have no solid evidence, you and Shilin must share a relationship that goes beyond the typical teacher-student dynamic."
The Four Pillars Cult.
Ash considered the possibility that Heath, his body's previous owner, had single-handedly manipulated and led the cult—a criminal organization verging on a syndicate. But it seemed more likely that Heath had external help.
Shilin Dorr could very well be one of those benefactors.
"I've laid out my cards," Igula said, interrupting Ash's thoughts. "Now, will you answer my question? Though I already have a good guess."
"If you already know, why bother asking…" Ash muttered. "Fine. Go ahead."
"How did you deceive me using your thoughts?" Igula asked, his tone sharp. "Last night in the ring, I relied on reading your surface thoughts to predict your attacks. This skill has almost never failed me—because no one can truly lie to themselves."
Ash tilted his head.
"Wait, you could hear my thoughts?"
"Only in the ring," Igula explained, his voice unusually candid. Typically, he preferred to foster fear and doubt in others, but something about Ash made him abandon pretense.
"I didn't try to deceive you," Ash admitted, scratching his head. "Honestly, I just learned you had that cheat ability. No wonder I couldn't land a hit on you early on."
"Then how were you thinking, 'You're quite good-looking,' while simultaneously trying to punch me in the face?"
"Thinking you look good and wanting to punch you aren't mutually exclusive."
Igula pressed on, unconvinced. "Usually, I hear the truest desires of the heart. If you wanted to hit me, I'd hear, 'I want to punch him,' not, 'He's attractive.'"
"Oh, I get it now." Ash nodded thoughtfully.
"I was probably daydreaming."
"Daydreaming?"
"Yeah. Sometimes my mind wanders, and I just start thinking about random stuff… like finding nice pictures to, uh, admire. I must've genuinely thought you looked good during that moment."
"Then why did you suddenly attack me?"
"Because I snapped out of it and got back to work," Ash said matter-of-factly. "Pretty pictures can wait—work comes first."
Igula was speechless. Could someone truly be this nonchalant in battle? It seemed impossible, especially for someone with Ash's talents. The man's rapid adaptability suggested he was a seasoned fighter, not some careless amateur.
The explanation didn't sit right.
"Impossible. Even if you were distracted, I should've still heard your true thoughts."
"Maybe your ability isn't as strong as you think…"
"Let me test that!" Igula leaned forward, poking Ash's face. "I can tell truth from lies by gauging your facial temperature. Say something true or false—I'll figure it out."
Ash's eyes glinted mischievously.
"My next sentence is a lie."
Igula froze, his mind spinning. If Ash's statement was true, then he's lying, which makes it false. But if it's false, then it's true…
The logical loop left Igula reeling, slumping back in his seat like a broken doll.
Ash shrugged. Brain teasers like this? Standard fare during job interviews. Clearly, this world wasn't big on puzzles.
Just then, a commotion erupted at the Deathmatch Club's entrance.
"Oh, look who it is—our esteemed elf!"
"Lord Valkas, would you like me to polish your boots with my tongue?"
"Step back! Don't sully the elf's clothes, you lower lifeforms!"
Though the prison's implants prohibited direct insults, they weren't sophisticated enough to flag sarcastic mockery.
Ash watched, intrigued. He wasn't surprised by the animosity—this was a prison, after all. What did surprise him was the level of creativity. Without physical violence or overt insults, their options for bullying were severely limited.
Still, Valkas handled the jeering with unnerving composure.
"Thank you for your concern," he said, bowing gracefully. "Your words are so sweet, I'm sure you've all wiped your mouths thoroughly after your… meals?"
"Are you calling us shit-eaters?"
"Not at all. I'm just praising those who clean up after themselves. Why, are you admitting to something?"
"VAL! KAS!"
"Relax. There's a distinct smell of urine—perhaps your diet's a bit diverse?"
"VA—"
"Oh, dear. You seem agitated. Let me tell you a joke: I once dropped trash from my window and accidentally hit a dog. Naturally, the dog barked. So, if you hear barking after dropping trash…"
"VALKAS!"
The offenders, unable to voice their retorts without triggering the implant, were left seething in impotent rage. Valkas, meanwhile, walked past them with a smug smile, every word carefully crafted to skirt the implant's restrictions.
"Only in Broken Lake Prison could you witness such a unique battle of words," Igula remarked, amused.
Ash nodded. He now understood why Valkas dominated every verbal sparring match. The elf's sharp tongue, combined with the implant's limitations, left his opponents utterly helpless.
"Is that Ash Heath?"
"And you must be Valkas Urr."
The elf's expression turned cold as his gaze locked onto Ash.
He pointed to the ring. "If you're ready, let's begin."
All eyes turned to Ash, eager to see the showdown.
Igula glanced at Ash, curious. By now, Ash likely understood Valkas's connection to Professor Shilin. Any reasonable person would decline such a suspicious challenge.
But instead of backing down, Ash muttered something under his breath.
"Swordmaiden?"
Igula blinked. Swordmaiden? Who's he talking to?
Ash exhaled, shaking off his hesitation.
"Thank you for the advice," he said, smiling at Igula. "But this time, I'm not relying on tricks."
"Then what's your plan?"
"I'll bet my life," Ash said calmly. "I'll wager everything that his first strike won't kill me. If I survive that, the second strike will be mine."
With that, Ash rose, meeting Valkas's cold gaze head-on.
The crowd's anticipation reached a fever pitch as the two men stepped into the ring.