Anagin Chronicles

Chapter 97

Even though spring had passed and summer had arrived, the underground prison was as cold as winter.No—let me correct that. That metaphor wasn’t right.

The underground prison wasn’t as cold as winter—it was as cold as a corpse.

Because Anagin had openly insulted a student of Chiron Tower right in the middle of the tower.

And it wasn’t just any insult. He had mentioned the student’s younger sibling, making it practically the worst possible insult.

Naturally, the next action was predictable.

Wham!

The student of Chiron Tower, and elder brother to the insulted sibling, clenched his fist and struck Anagin in the face.

A natural reaction, since his sibling had been insulted.

But there was a problem.

“You don’t even know how to throw a proper punch, do you?”

His fist didn’t even faze Anagin.

Even after being hit, Anagin didn’t flinch, nor did he show any sign of pain.

It wasn’t pretending—his body genuinely wasn’t affected by the attack.

Anagin clenched his own fist and swung it upward at the opponent’s abdomen.

Crack!

The sound that erupted was so vicious it was hard to believe it came from a human body. The man was slammed into the ceiling and then dropped to the floor.

He lay face down, shaped like a frog.

Anagin silently looked down at him. The other students around, ready to rush Anagin, hesitated.

Just as their fists were about to strike, Tramachus shouted.

“Stop!”

Tramachus of Flame, member of the New Argonaut Expedition Team and prince of Calydon.

His voice echoed powerfully, and everyone froze.

Even in the underground prison, Tramachus’ voice carried with subtle resonance.

Straightening his back, he approached Anagin and spoke calmly.

"Look, can't we resolve this peacefully?"

Anagin recalled past conversations with Tramachus.

They hadn’t spoken much before, but compared to back then, Tramachus’s demeanor was noticeably gentler.

It wasn’t just his tone; his posture was more approachable, too.

“I know what’s going on, and I regret it enough. But the kid got hurt.”

“Get to the point.”

“…Tell Pais to apologize to Rihiston. Then you don’t have to apologize.”

“Rihiston? The kid with the injured eye?”

“Yeah.”

Tramachus nodded.

The kid had nearly gone blind after being hit in the eye by a stone thrown by Pais.

That boy was the younger brother of Cleston, who was currently facedown on the floor, and a noble of Calydon.

A noble of the same royal line as Tramachus.

It made sense why the nobles present were furious at Anagin’s actions, and why Tramachus stepped in to mediate.

They were from the same homeland.

Considering that, it was a fair offer to Anagin.

If only Pais apologized, the matter could be settled peacefully.

A situation with enough room for compromise.

It was Tramachus’ way of showing goodwill toward Anagin.

Despite everything, they were comrades who had fought against the Forest Brotherhood. It was a gesture mixed with friendship and respect for the brave Anagin, who had saved them from Periphetes and stood his ground when everyone else was terrified of Erysichthon.

Understanding this, Anagin listened silently and nodded.

He then approached Pais, who was trapped in the prison.

“Brother?”

Seeing Anagin approach, Sphinx called out anxiously.

Ignoring her, Anagin addressed Pais.

“Hey, brat. What do you say? If you apologize, we can end this peacefully. You in?”

Anagin instinctively sensed that Tramachus’ offer was sincere.

If Pais apologized to that Rihiston kid, the whole incident could be dismissed as nothing more than a minor mishap.

All he had to do was apologize to the man who called Anagin a fraud and who had beaten her older sister.

A heavy silence followed, stretching a brief yet endless moment.

Finally, Pais, rarely one to be intimidated, spoke.

His voice lacked strength, tinged with sorrow.

“Th-then, I apo—”

“—Why should you apologize?!”

Anagin cut him off, shouting.

"You should have spat on me and told me to stop talking bullshit, just like your sister did. That's the perfect response for people talking nonsense."

Anagin had insulted Tramachus's proposal indirectly.

Actually, it wasn't even indirect; he insulted him to his face.

“What are you doing?”

Tramachus glanced around, aware of the eyes watching.

Those present were, at a small scale, colleagues of Chiron Tower, but at a larger scale, political allies through family ties.

Noble to noble, noble to royal, royal to royal.

Tramachus himself, though collateral royalty, was still royalty.

He had already conceded as much as he could to resolve this.

Yet Anagin rejected it—not subtly, but in a way that spat on the suggestion.

Even now.

"What am I doing? I'm showing you how much bullshit you're talking. You should be thanking me."

“Hey.”

Irida tried to intervene, knowing how lenient Tramachus was, but Anagin refused.

He had no intention of compromising from the start.

“I’m really curious. Why does that brat even need to apologize?”

Anagin lied. He wasn’t curious at all. He already had a rough idea.

"A bunch of cowards ganging up on a girl, and not satisfied with just the beating, they insulted her family... so he burst an eye with a stone. What exactly is the problem there?"

The insult was inferred from what Kori had told him.

Before Pais threw the stone, the words he heard weren't hard to guess.

If it was enough to make Pais react like that, it must have been something likely unbearable to hear.

Neither Tramachus nor the rest of the New Argonaut Expedition Team said a word.

It meant Anagin’s guess was right, and they shared the sentiment.

Fortunately, they didn’t say anything like, “Violence is bad.” Otherwise, Anagin would have had to waste ten minutes mocking them.

They seemed to understand the absurdity of the situation—though only as observers.

“So… you won’t make him apologize?”

“No. I won’t. If he tries, I’ll stop him myself.”

“You’re making things complicated. Is it worth it?”

“I taught him from the start. If anyone insults his family, he should throw a stone and burst their eye."

“…”

“So if you want an apology, it should be directed at me first. If possible, of course.”

Anagin finally crossed the last line.

He directly provoked them, daring them to apologize through strength if they could—right in front of everyone.

If Tramachus remained passive, all he had built would collapse—his effort as a practitioner, his status as royalty.

With other options essentially gone, only one remained.

Tramachus chose that path.

“…You’re saying something interesting.”

The underground prison, boiling with anger, was instantly silenced by his voice.

Everyone reflexively turned toward it.

There stood Meleager the Immortal, a true member of the Argonaut Expedition Team, a prince of Calydon.

He was familiar with Anagin but had never really spoken to him.

He had suddenly appeared with Atalanta to pressure and drive away Erysichthon, helping Anagin, but that was the extent of it.

This was effectively their first proper conversation.

And yet…

“I can make it more interesting.”

The audacious remark shocked everyone nearby.

No one imagined speaking to the Immortal Meleager like that.

Yet Meleager himself remained calm.

"You don't have to. I've already heard the 'interesting' part."

“?”

Anagin tilted his head. Had they spoken before?

“You said you wanted to spar with me, right?”

“Ah.”

Understanding, Anagin gasped.

Some of the reporters who brought the article had suggested a spar, and Anagin had wanted to try it with Meleager.

He never expected Meleager to know… but it didn’t matter.

Meleager told Anagin:

“Alright, we’ll spar. But it won’t be fun just to spar, let’s make a bet.”

* * *

Chiron Tower’s Free Sparring Ground.

It was already a crowded place, but today it was even more packed.

The reason was…

"I-Iit’s true! That’s Meleager the Immortal!”

One of the excited onlookers shouted, pointing.

The rumor had spread that Meleager the Immortal was going to spar with this guy named Anagin.

Most people didn’t believe it at first, but once it was confirmed as true, a huge crowd gathered.

Not just practitioners from Chiron Tower, but workers, guards, and even merchants.

For the practitioners, merely watching Meleager spar was an opportunity to learn something.

Yet, contrary to the audience’s expectations, Meleager’s attire was light.

It looked exactly like he was sparring—nothing more, nothing heavier.

The only thing he held was a spear in his hand.

Even that wasn’t fully prepared. Meleager normally carried extra spears on his back, but now he only had the one in his hand. By comparison, it was extremely light.

“By the way, why are they sparring all of a sudden?”

“I don’t know either.”

It wasn’t every day that a hero like Meleager sparred. Some of the less-informed onlookers had no clue why this was happening.

“How could a legendary hero spar with a stranger?”

But more people weren’t ignorant—they speculated why it had come to this.

Likely, it all stemmed from an article published by the Talaria Weekly, snowballing into this incident.

Recently, the kid Anagin brought had harmed a Calydon noble child.

This conflict had inevitably manifested as a spar.

The problem was whether this expression of conflict was positive or negative—it was unclear.

“Thanks for waiting.”

Anagin emerged from the crowd and gave a greeting.

He was dragging a large bundle filled with something heavy that made a clattering, metallic sound.

“I told you to prepare as much as you wanted, so don’t worry about it. Still, I didn’t expect you’d prepare this much.”

"When someone offers a favor, you should accept it with gratitude.”

Hearing Anagin speak so casually shocked the surrounding spectators.

They realized he was speaking quite casually to Meleager—something unimaginable to them.

But Meleager didn’t seem to mind.

"I don't dislike people who know how to accept favors. It would have been nice if you’d accepted my younger brother's favor, too."

"Fuck that. That wasn't a favor, it was a middle finger."

“!!”

The crowd was once again stunned—no, appalled—by the exchange.

Even ignoring the casual speech, the bluntness was shocking.

At this point, the crowd wanted to know the full story behind the sparring.

Incidentally, this was part of Anagin’s plan.

While it was true he had punched the other guy's gut in the dungeon out of anger, he had also escalated the situation to create a scene like this.

If the stage got big enough, they would realize how embarrassing it was to keep Pais locked up.

Meleager gave a wry smile.

“You’ll understand when you’re in our position. Even if a high position seems desirable, it comes with a lot of responsibility.”

"I know that much," Anagin replied dismissively.

Having seen the village chief at work several times, he already knew managing people wasn’t easy.

If it were easy, he would have been chief long ago. But…

“You’re a practitioner, right? Aiming to be a hero. So why worry about such trivial things?”

Practitioners were beings who built their craft for a single goal.

If you weren’t a practitioner, it might make sense—but a practitioner worrying about such things was pathetic in Anagin’s eyes.

Surprisingly, Meleager agreed.

"You're not wrong."

"So, are we just going to keep talking?"

“Let’s go over the rules one more time before starting.”

Before sparring, Meleager set a few rules.

Not just a simple emotional fight—he wanted it to be a more meaningful spar.

Anagin nodded.

"Since we are at different levels, if you manage to hit me even once, I'll consider it your victory."

Meleager proposed, displaying immense confidence in his skills.

Anagin didn’t care.

"Do whatever you like. I'm just going to hit you."

“But if you surrender, become incapable of fighting, or die, I win. And if I win, you must apologize publicly. For the false article and for failing to teach the kid properly.”

There was a lot to debate, but Anagin accepted.

As long as he didn’t lose, it was fine.

“If I lose, you will apologize, right?”

“Yes.”

"Then are we done? When do we start?"

“When the challenger moves.”

Meleager ceded the first move, and Anagin, knowing how to accept consideration, didn’t refuse.

Thwack!

Anagin threw the bundle he had dragged high into the air.

It opened midair, revealing its contents.

“A spear…?”

As the spectators had guessed, it was spears.

Magical spears used by the bronze statues from the Ruin.

Countless spears rose into the air at Anagin’s command, scattering in all directions.

They fell like a heavy downpour.

Taking advantage of everyone’s attention, Anagin kicked a stone from the ground at Meleager—just like when he fought the Bender Caravan.

Ting!

But unexpectedly…

Meleager, watching the falling spears, parried the stone without even looking.

The magic spears crashed to the ground after that.

Anagin ran between them, charging at Meleager.