Capítulo 104: End of Battle Royale [part 3]
**The Call of Destiny**
The outer hall was shrouded in a suffocating darkness, illuminated only by dim torches that cast flickering shadows on the stone walls.
The blood staining my armor was beginning to dry, but the echo of the massacre I had committed was still fresh in my mind.
I had left the arena, but a part of me was still there, rooted among the lifeless bodies and the silence of death.
The nanny stared at me, her piercing gaze seemed to probe every corner of my soul.
The subtle smile that curled her lips was not just one of satisfaction; there was something more, something pulsing beneath the surface of her cold and calculated control.
"So, you did exactly what I expected," she said, her voice as caressing as a sharp dagger.
"I had no doubt about the final outcome, but I must admit, your execution was... masterful."
Her words were a mix of praise and clinical analysis, as if she were evaluating the performance of a weapon freshly tested on the battlefield.
"I bet on you," she continued, her voice dropping to a whisper, almost confidential.
"Not just money, of course. I knew you would win, but it's the way you did it that made all of this so... interesting."
She paused, letting her words seep into my mind like a slow but deadly poison.
"Now, it's time to collect the reward. Are you ready?"
Her gaze was filled with expectations, and in that instant, I realized that for her, it wasn't just about collecting material winnings.
She had invested much more in me than money; she had staked her own vision of the world, her idea of absolute power.
And now, she wanted to see if I was truly the creature she had forged, if I would respond as she expected, or if I would begin to carve my own path, outside her control.
I moved closer to her, the awareness of what I represented for her making its way through the thoughts still crowding my mind.
The shadows around us seemed to tighten, as if trying to envelop us in a cloak of darkness, separating us from the rest of the world.
The tension was palpable, a thin thread stretched between us, ready to snap or to become a rope that would bind our destinies even more tightly together.
"Are you ready?" I asked her, my voice grave, resonating in the silence that surrounded us.
It wasn't just a question; it was a challenge, an invitation to see how far she was willing to go in the path we had started together.
The nanny stared at me, her smile widened slightly, a spark of satisfaction glinted in her eyes.
"I'm always ready," she replied, with a confidence that seemed carved in stone.
"Let's go collect what's ours."
**The Gathering of the Spoils**
The walk to the prize stand was shrouded in an atmosphere of underlying tension, a calm before the storm.
The torches along the way cast uneven shadows on the stone walls, creating an illusion of movement that seemed to follow our every step.
The silence was broken only by the echo of our boots, a rhythmic and inexorable sound that matched the slow and steady beat of my heart.
The dried blood on my armor tugged at my skin, reminding me of every blow dealt, every life taken.
Beside me, the nanny advanced with an innate elegance, her gaze fixed ahead, but I could sense her mind working, calculating every possible scenario, every future move.
We finally arrived at the stand, a simple yet sturdy counter, protected by iron bars that glistened in the torchlight.
Behind it, a hollow-cheeked man with probing eyes greeted us with a grimace that was meant to be a smile.
His eyes first landed on my armor, then on the nanny, and finally returned to me, with a mix of respect and fear.
He knew who we were, what we had done. No introductions were needed.
"Ragnarok and his companion," he said in a hoarse voice, slipping his hand under the counter to pull out a leather bag, filled to the brim with coins and other valuable rewards.
"Congratulations on the victory. Here is your reward."
The nanny didn't respond immediately.
She took a step forward, approaching the stand with her usual icy calm, letting the silence stretch until it became almost unbearable for the man behind the counter.
When she finally spoke, her voice was a thread of ice, sharp and inevitable.
"Make sure it's all there," she said, her tone devoid of any emotion.
"I don't tolerate mistakes, nor attempts at theft."
The man gulped, his hands trembling slightly as he opened the bag to show us the contents.
Gold coins gleamed inside, reflecting the torchlight, along with jewels and small precious items that made up the non-monetary portion of the prize.
I quickly estimated the value with an expert glance, then nodded to the nanny.
She nodded back, visibly satisfied.
I was about to grab the bag when a figure emerged from the shadows beside the stand, a man with a sharp face and eyes gleaming with cunning.
The swindler approached with an air of false friendliness, a smile that never reached his eyes.
He seemed to have waited for the perfect moment to intervene, and his audacity caught me by surprise, but only for an instant.
"Ah, a remarkable victory, indeed," he exclaimed, his honeyed voice sending shivers down my spine.
"I imagine you're interested in investing some of those winnings... After all, I've heard there are excellent opportunities right now, deals that could double your earnings in the blink of an eye."
The swindler's eyes sparkled as he spoke, and his insinuating tone was a subtle poison, designed to manipulate and confuse.
I could sense the tactic behind his words: sowing doubt, casting a shadow of uncertainty, making us believe that the victory wasn't complete without his 'expert' assistance.
It was classic gaslighting, a devious technique to make us doubt ourselves and our success.
The nanny remained impassive, but my gaze hardened.
I had recognized the swindler's strategy for what it was: a desperate attempt to take advantage of a moment of triumph, to worm his way in like a parasite and steal a portion of our reward.
It was a pathetic move, and one doomed to fail.
"We're not interested," I replied curtly, my voice as sharp as a blade.
There was no room for discussion, and my tone clearly conveyed that the swindler had wasted his breath.
The swindler's smile faltered for a moment, but he tried to maintain his composure.
"Oh, but I'm sure that if you would only consider—"
"Are you sure you want to continue down this path?" the nanny intervened, her voice low and icy.
Every word seemed to drop into the room like a sheet of ice, relentless and final.
"Because if you insist, I assure you that money won't be the only thing you lose tonight."
The swindler paled, his smile finally vanished entirely.
He knew he had lost the game before it even started, and now the specter of what might happen to him—or worse, to his reputation—paralyzed him.
He mumbled some hurried apologies before stepping back and disappearing into the shadow from which he had emerged.
With the swindler now gone, the nanny handed me the bag containing our winnings, her gaze meeting mine with an expression that hovered between satisfaction and expectation.
"Well done, as always," she said simply, closing the matter with the same coldness with which she had started.
But in the darkness that surrounded us, I felt that our path had just begun.
Status de energia semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Pedra de
Poder