In the Adventurers' Inn, the swordsman in white, gripping his sword, and the warrior in jet-black armor looked at each other from across the room.
"Ah!"
Lock stepped on the Iron-ranked Adventurer who had smashed his dining table, making him cry out even louder in pain, and walked step by step toward Fifee.
Facing the approaching Lock, Fifee, wearing a full-face helmet, showed no discernible expression, but his body language suggested he was very calm.
"You startled me just now," Lock said softly, a playful smile on his face.
"My apologies, I didn't mean to."
Fifee sincerely apologized to the white-haired swordsman in front of him; he had merely tossed the man casually earlier and hadn't paid attention to where he landed.
The people around immediately showed surprised expressions, looking at Fifee, who was apologizing to Lock. They had initially thought this incredibly strong, jet-black warrior was the type with a bad temper, a common trait among powerful Adventurers.
Adventurers, a profession where one could encounter danger at any moment and never return, had very few strong individuals with good tempers due to the immense pressure of survival.
"I am Lock Kote Albert."
"I am Fifee."
Although he didn't understand why the person in front of him suddenly introduced himself, Fifee returned his own name out of politeness.
Lock Kote Albert? I've heard that name before…
That's right—it was the baron Gazef Stronoff mentioned, the one who helped him, and apparently also the elder brother of the girl who rode a golden dragon!
Why was this person here?
"I can tell you're a powerful warrior." Lock's face showed a dangerous smile, his slightly reddened eyes seemingly fixed on delicious prey, making one uncomfortable.
"I'm looking for an opponent I can fight to improve my strength. As an apology for earlier, how about it—want to have a match with me?"
"I refuse—"
Fifee hadn't even finished speaking when a sharp sword qi grazed his armor, carving a long, deep mark into the wooden floor beside him.
"Don't say such disheartening things," Lock said as he slowly sheathed his sword.
"A strong person won't refuse a challenge. Or are you and your companion cowards, like this bunch of trash?"
Lock swept his gaze across the other Adventurers in the inn. After witnessing that sword strike, none dared speak. Under his stare, they all lowered their heads.
Behind Fifee's helmet, his eye sockets flickered crimson. He could endure insults directed at himself—but the mention of his companion struck a nerve.
This is a good opportunity to test the strength of the warriors of this world. If he's weaker than Gazef, it's meaningless.
"…Alright," Fifee said coldly. "I accept your challenge."
Lock immediately grinned.
"Excellent. Tomorrow at noon, I'll be waiting in the open space of the central plaza."
"Understood."
With the agreement settled, Lock turned and walked out of the inn. A gold coin flicked from his fingers and landed precisely on the counter—payment for the damaged floor.
On his raised wrist, a metal tag tied with a thin string was visible: a Copper-ranked Adventurer's plate.
Fifee gazed at Lock's retreating, deep in thought.
And with his back turned, Lock revealed a meaningful smile.
It was said that when transmigrating into Ainz's world, there were two easy paths:
One was to join the Great Tomb,
The other was to praise Ainz's guild companions.
Lock, however, intended to narrow that path—then carve out his own grand avenue, while deepening the old skeleton's vigilance toward this world, treating it as a form of entertainment.
That evening, the low-grade Adventurers' inn was filled with Copper- and Iron-ranked Adventurers returning from quests. Talk and laughter spread, but the sword mark carved into the floor remained unrepaired.
News of the duel spread rapidly.
"Damn it! That guy really looks down on us!"
Some hot-headed Adventurers cursed loudly over cheap ale.
"But he has the strength to back it up. If it were me, I'd be even more arrogant."
"How can someone that strong be Copper-ranked?"
"Lock Kote Albert? Isn't that name connected to the Starlight Witch?"
"I heard he's a minor noble."
"A noble Adventurer? No way."
"There are precedents. Blue Rose's captain is a noble."
Discussion buzzed late into the night, but the focus remained clear—
Tomorrow's duel.
Many Adventurers deliberately avoided taking quests, eager to witness the free spectacle.
Meanwhile, one of the duel's protagonists, Lock, was resting in a high-class hotel when the necklace around his neck reacted.
A voice echoed in his mind.
"Ma… Master, is that you?"
Lock paused briefly, then recognized the speaker.
"Khajit Dale Badantel."
"It's me. Has there been any change in the task I assigned you?"
"Yes, Master. Clementine Hasseya Quentia has learned of my base. She should arrive tonight."
Lying on the bed, Lock's eyes lit up.
So fast… I thought it would take several more days.
"This is going to be fun."
Lock reached for the sword resting beside his bed—Dragon Spring.
A divine-grade weapon.
In Yggdrasil, as a Magic Caster without the Battle Mage class, he couldn't equip it.
But this world was different.
Here, as both a Yggdrasil player and a native, Lock was not bound by those restrictions.
His base stats easily met the weapon's requirements.
Swordsman Lock, sortie.
With a divine blade in hand, Lock set off toward the graveyard with enthusiasm.
Tonight marked his debut as a warrior—
And his opponent was Clementine, a fighter who had already stepped into the hero's realm.
A good show was about to begin.
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A/N: A New Fanfic Is Out "Bleach: Reborn As Ishida Uryuu"
A/N: Advanced Chapters Have Been Uploaded On My Patreon
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