The Last Human: Unlimited Power, Unlimited Beauties

After somehow completing a negotiation between two kingdoms without getting thrown out of the throne room, arrested, assassinated, or accidentally starting the exact war I had traveled here to prevent, Agran rewarded me with the greatest treasure known to civilization.

A guest room.

Specifically, a very comfortable guest room.

At that point, I would have accepted a broom closet as long as it had a mattress and nobody inside wanted to discuss treaties.

The room Agran gave me was far better than that.

It was large, quiet, and decorated in the same darker style as the rest of the castle. Deep reddish wood framed the furniture. Thick curtains hung beside tall windows overlooking one of the inner courtyards. The bed was broad enough that I could roll several times before falling off, which was an important measurement for luxury.

There was even a private bathing area nearby.

Royal hospitality.

Very nice.

I spent what remained of the day doing something I had almost forgotten was possible.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

No assassins.

No marching.

No screaming cutthroats running out of forests.

No historically infamous Spriggan threatening to erase a kingdom.

No Tigerkin generals trying to kill me.

No princess dragging me toward waterfalls.

No Great Sage appearing from secret passages.

Just peace.

For several hours.

I lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

Beautiful.

I should’ve framed the moment.

My mind did occasionally return to the negotiation.

Firsa had accepted the framework.

The conditions were balanced.

Nothing was final until Viar arrived and signed, of course, but we had done the difficult part.

Or at least I had thought we had done the difficult part.

Then Queen Firsa decided diplomacy needed an additional examination involving me fighting the most powerful combatant in Agran.

Because apparently signatures required violence for seasoning.

Still, that was tomorrow’s problem.

Present Caled had made an executive decision that Future Caled could handle it.

Future Caled hated Present Caled constantly, but that sounded like his problem.

I ate.

Rested.

Eventually slept.

And for once, I slept well.

No divine void.

No Goddess of Knowledge appearing beside an endless horizon of light.

No prophetic warnings about world conquest.

No surprise revelations.

Just darkness.

Beautiful, ordinary darkness.

My consciousness returned the next morning when someone knocked on the door.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

I opened one eye.

Interesting.

Different kingdom.

Different culture.

Different architecture.

Same knocking.

Truly, some traditions were universal.

I stared at the door from the bed.

Another knock.

“Yeah, yeah.”

My voice sounded like I’d swallowed a pillow.

I sat up.

Morning light slipped through the curtains, bright enough to personally insult me.

I rubbed my face.

The knocking came again.

“I’m alive.”

A familiar voice answered from outside.

“Then open the door.”

Leyra.

Of course.

I climbed out of bed.

Fortunately, I had slept wearing enough that opening the door wouldn’t create an international incident before breakfast.

I pulled on proper clothes anyway.

Shirt.

Pants.

Everything necessary for maintaining the illusion that I was a respectable diplomatic representative and not a professional disaster wearing boots.

Then I opened the door.

Leyra stood outside.

Fully dressed.

Golden hair arranged.

Blue eyes alert.

Lion ears upright.

Princess mode had already started working while mine was still buffering.

She looked at me.

Then at my hair.

Her lips twitched.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“That was a very judgmental nothing.”

“You just woke up.”

“Sharp observation.”

“Everyone is already waiting for you.”

I stared.

“Everyone?”

“In the arena.”

I looked down the corridor.

Then back at her.

“That’s a very aggressive way to start a morning.”

Leyra smiled.

“The queen scheduled the match early.”

“Of course she did.”

I rubbed my face again.

“Why let a diplomat enjoy breakfast when you can make him fight the Supreme General?”

“You could still eat first.”

“No.”

“No?”

“If I eat a full meal and Rel punches me in the stomach, diplomacy is going to become significantly less elegant.”

Leyra laughed.

I stepped back into the room.

“Give me a little time.”

She nodded.

“I’ll wait.”

I pointed toward the room.

“You’re coming inside?”

“Yes.”

“Dangerous.”

Leyra raised an eyebrow.

“Caled.”

“Fine.”

She entered.

I headed toward the bathing area.

A proper bath before combat sounded unnecessary right up until I imagined getting thrown through the arena while smelling like bed.

Dignity mattered.

Occasionally.

I washed quickly.

Hot water helped wake me properly.

By the time I came back out, dressed and considerably more alive, Leyra was sitting near the window.

She looked outside at the castle grounds.

I walked over.

“Ready.”

Her eyes moved over me.

“You look awake now.”

“Don’t exaggerate.”

We left the room.

Several Inizio knights waited in the corridor.

They straightened immediately.

“Your Highness.”

“Sir Caled.”

I nodded.

“Morning.”

One knight smiled faintly.

He knew where we were going.

Judging by everyone’s expressions, news of the fight had spread through the castle with the speed of gossip carrying free alcohol.

We started toward the arena.

Leyra walked beside me.

The Inizio escort followed behind.

Agran’s castle felt different in the morning.

Sunlight entered through tall windows at sharper angles, spreading rectangular patches of gold across the dark floors.

Servants moved quietly through side corridors.

Agranian knights changed shifts.

Some bowed when Leyra passed.

Several looked at me longer than necessary.

I knew that look.

You’re the guy fighting Rel.

Wonderful.

I glanced at Leyra.

“I have to admit something.”

“What?”

“When I crossed into Agran, I expected assassins.”

“We got those.”

“Many.”

“Yes.”

“I expected difficult negotiations.”

“Those went better than expected.”

“Exactly.”

I gestured around.

“But I did not have ‘fight Supreme General Rel on second morning’ anywhere on my itinerary.”

Leyra smiled.

“You’re not the only one.”

“No?”

“Rel looked genuinely surprised yesterday.”

I nodded.

“I noticed.”

“That alone should concern you.”

“Deeply.”

Rel was not easily surprised.

The woman had somehow known about our encounter with Tanya before we’d even reached the castle.

She had predicted attacks on our journey.

She read people like everybody came with subtitles.

Queen Firsa spontaneously announcing that I would fight her had managed to make Rel blink differently.

That was basically a historical event.

I looked at Leyra.

“You’ve fought her?”

“No.”

“Seen her fight?”

“Yes.”

That got my attention.

“Good.”

Leyra sighed.

That was never a comforting reaction before tactical advice.

“What?”

She looked ahead.

“Rel is the strongest combatant in Agran.”

I nodded.

“Already knew that part.”

“Understanding it and seeing it are different.”

“Also comforting.”

“She is a battle mage.”

I waited.

Leyra continued.

“Her overall capabilities are comparable to Nemris.”

Now that mattered.

Nemris was ridiculous.

I had watched her erase groups of soldiers without killing them, duel Gia and Remgar while dealing with Balder, cut through attacks, and generally behave like gravity was optional whenever it interfered with swordsmanship.

“Similar stats?”

“Yes.”

“Strength?”

“Comparable.”

“Speed?”

“Comparable.”

“Magic?”

Leyra nodded.

“Comparable overall.”

I whistled.

“So why does everyone talk about Rel like she’s worse?”

Leyra looked at me.

“Because Nemris fights like Nemris.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“That explanation contained a suspicious amount of Nemris.”

“You know how my sister fights.”

I did.

Direct.

Disciplined.

Overwhelming.

Nemris did not need to trick you into walking into a trap if she could simply hit the trap with a greatsword until both you and the trap surrendered.

Leyra continued.

“Rel fights the same way she speaks.”

Oh.

Oh no.

I looked at her.

“Mind games.”

“Yes.”

“Deception.”

“Yes.”

“Making me question whether the thing she wants me to notice is actually the thing she wants me to notice.”

Leyra nodded.

“That.”

I sighed.

“So we’re giving enormous combat power to someone whose favorite hobby is psychological vandalism.”

Leyra’s mouth twitched.

“That is one way to describe it.”

“She sets traps?”

“Yes.”

“Fakes intentions?”

“Yes.”

“Misleads opponents?”

“Yes.”

“Probably smiles while doing all three.”

“Definitely.”

Wonderful.

Leyra slowed slightly as we approached another corridor.

“Rel excels physically and magically.”

“Meaning?”

“She isn’t a mage who becomes vulnerable once someone closes distance.”

Bad.

“And she isn’t a physical fighter who struggles at range.”

Worse.

“She can fight either way.”

“Great.”

“Sometimes at the same time.”

“Excellent.”

I rubbed my jaw.

Leyra continued.

“She was considered a prodigy even when she was young.”

There was that age mystery again.

“Young being whenever several decades ago means for her.”

Leyra glanced at me.

“You asked her age, didn’t you?”

“Of course.”

“And?”

“She escaped.”

Leyra laughed.

“I expected that.”

“Why does everyone powerful refuse to provide numbers?”

“Perhaps because you ask badly.”

“I ask directly.”

“You ask with disbelief.”

“That is because she looks younger than events she personally remembers.”

Leyra smiled.

I pointed ahead.

“Back to the terrifying battle mage.”

“Rel’s greatest advantage isn’t one specific spell.”

Good.

Because I didn’t need more mystery abilities invented for me before I had seen them.

“It’s how she uses what she has.”

I nodded.

“She reads opponents.”

“Very quickly.”

“Manipulates their decisions.”

“Yes.”

“And makes them fight the battle she wants.”

Leyra’s expression became serious.

“Exactly.”

That sounded familiar.

Not my style.

I usually fought by stealing the other person’s homework after watching them demonstrate it once.

Different academic philosophy.

We turned another corner.

The distant sound of people reached us.

Crowd noise.

A lot of crowd noise.

I frowned.

“How many people are watching this?”

Leyra smiled.

“You’ll see.”

“That answer worries me.”

The corridor widened.

An Agranian knight waited near an intersection ahead.

He wore polished armor with a red sash across the chest.

When we approached, he bowed.

“Sir Caled.”

I stopped.

The knight gestured toward a side passage.

“Please follow me. The combatants enter through a separate route.”

Ah.

Of course.

Arena drama.

I looked at Leyra.

She met my eyes.

“Don’t hold back.”

I smiled.

“That is currently the plan.”

Her expression remained serious.

“I mean it.”

“So does Firsa.”

“I know.”

I glanced toward the passage.

Then back at her.

“I’ll be fine.”

Leyra nodded.

Not completely reassured.

But she trusted me.

The knight waited.

I pointed toward Leyra.

“Try not to start betting against me while I’m gone.”

She smiled.

“No promises.”

Betrayal.

I followed the Agranian knight.

The passage sloped downward.

Stone walls narrowed around us.

The crowd became louder with every step.

At first it was just noise.

Then individual cheers became distinguishable.

Voices.

Shouting.

Someone chanting Rel’s name.

Someone else apparently arguing loudly about money.

Wonderful.

Gambling.

Civilization truly united people.

The knight stopped before a large opening flooded with daylight.

“Through there.”

I nodded.

“Thank you.”

He bowed.

I walked forward.

Sunlight hit me first.

Bright enough that I squinted.

Then the sound.

The arena erupted.

Thousands?

Maybe not.

But enough people filled the stone seating surrounding the fighting ground that their combined voices struck like physical pressure.

The arena was large.

Circular.

Open sky above.

High stone walls surrounded the central fighting field, separating spectators from anyone attempting to convert their opponent into landscaping.

Royal seating occupied one elevated section.

Banners of Agran hung behind it.

Queen Firsa sat at the center.

Same stern expression.

Different clothes from yesterday, though still regal.

Leyra had already reached her assigned seat nearby.

She looked down toward me.

Several Agranian nobles and officers occupied nearby places.

And in the center of the arena stood Rel.

Stretching.

Casually.

Naturally.

I stared.

Her outfit was nothing like yesterday’s pink dress.

Black and red.

A martial robe wrapped around her body, designed for movement rather than ceremony.

The cut reminded me of martial arts uniforms from Earth.

Loose enough for kicks.

Fitted enough not to get caught.

Red patterns traced across the black fabric in intricate lines.

Her sleeves were shorter.

A dark belt secured everything around her waist.

Red hair had been tied back enough to stay away from her face.

Tiger ears upright.

No weapon visible.

That did not make me feel better.

Rel raised both arms above her head.

Leaned sideways.

Then the other direction.

Very casual.

Like she was preparing for morning exercise instead of potentially launching me into a wall.

She saw me.

Smiled.

“Good morning.”

I walked toward the center.

“Good morning.”

The audience cheered louder.

I looked around.

Then back at Rel.

“I didn’t expect this many people.”

Rel rolled one shoulder.

“You can blame Her Majesty.”

I looked toward Firsa.

She was watching us with considerably more interest than she had shown during diplomacy.

Of course.

Rel continued.

“The queen announced the match with unusual enthusiasm.”

I smiled.

“She seemed very done with politics yesterday.”

“She is.”

“But apparently violence restored her passion for public administration.”

Rel laughed.

I stopped several meters away.

“You look excited to beat me into paste.”

“Me?”

Rel widened her eyes innocently.

“No.”

I stared.

“Your face is doing the thing.”

“What thing?”

“The thing where you smile like you already hid a trap somewhere.”

Her smile became more meaningful.

Exactly.

Rel lowered one arm.

“I admit yesterday surprised me.”

I nodded.

“Historical moment.”

“But surprise does not mean I dislike the idea.”

“So you’re happy about this.”

“I wouldn’t say happy.”

She rotated her shoulders.

Then stretched one arm across her chest.

“This will be good exercise.”

She groaned softly as the muscles loosened.

I stared.

“That’s worse.”

“How?”

“Calling fighting me exercise.”

Rel smiled.

“You’re the one everyone says is exceptionally strong.”

“Flattery before combat?”

“Observation.”

“Apparently.”

A deep metallic sound rang across the arena.

GONG.

The crowd reacted immediately.

Rel looked toward one side.

A man stood beside an enormous bronze gong, mallet in hand.

She lowered her arms.

“That is our cue.”

“To fight?”

“To take our positions.”

“Right.”

I shrugged.

Rel walked backward.

I did the same.

Several meters.

Then more.

We stopped with significant distance between us.

The spectators continued roaring.

I rolled my neck.

Then glanced toward the stands again.

Faces everywhere.

Tigerkin.

Other Beastkin.

Soldiers.

Officials.

Probably half the castle staff pretending they had official reasons to be here.

Then I spotted familiar people.

Treez.

Remgar.

Gia.

The three generals sat together in one section.

Remgar looked delighted.

Treez had her arms crossed.

Gia looked like someone had informed her attendance was mandatory and she was currently considering whether assassination offered a legitimate excuse to leave.

Remgar noticed me looking.

He stood.

Then shouted loudly enough that several nearby spectators turned.

“CALED!”

I raised a hand.

He grinned.

“I PUT MY MONEY ON YOU!”

I stared.

Then looked at Rel.

She raised an eyebrow.

I looked back at Remgar.

“Then if I win, you’re buying dinner somewhere expensive!”

Remgar laughed.

“YOU’RE WORRIED ABOUT DINNER?”

“ALWAYS!”

He cupped his hands around his mouth.

“I’M MORE WORRIED YOU WON’T BE ABLE TO WALK AFTER THIS!”

The crowd around him laughed.

I sighed.

Wonderful supporter.

Excellent confidence.

I pointed at him.

“Your encouragement needs improvement!”

Treez covered part of her face.

Gia did not react.

Probably regretting every decision that brought her into this arena.

I turned back toward Rel.

She was smiling.

Wide now.

Not the delicate little mind-game smile from diplomatic rooms.

Something more energetic.

Excited.

Very excited.

Oh.

She was definitely lying about this being only exercise.

The crowd gradually quieted as the official beside the gong raised his mallet again.

I planted my feet.

Rel stood across from me.

Loose posture.

Hands relaxed.

Not defensive.

Not aggressive.

Just ready.

The mallet struck.

GONG.

The sound rolled across the arena.

Then silence swallowed everything.

Thousands of people became quiet at once.

No cheering.

No shouting.

Nothing.

Just wind moving across the open arena.

Rel did not move.

Neither did I.

Interesting.

I watched her.

Feet.

Hands.

Shoulders.

Eyes.

Breathing.

Nothing obvious.

She watched me back.

Seconds passed.

Rel’s smile slowly returned.

“And here I thought you’d attack immediately.”

I shrugged.

“Why?”

“To overwhelm me before I prepare anything.”

“Tempting.”

“But?”

“I prefer watching first.”

Her head tilted.

I continued.

“I like knowing what someone can do before I start committing to terrible decisions.”

Rel smiled.

“You study your opponent.”

“Usually.”

“And react accordingly.”

“Yes.”

Her expression became very pleased.

“That works against many people.”

I narrowed my eyes.

“But.”

Rel’s smile widened.

“But not against me.”

There it was.

She raised one hand.

Magic moved.

Immediately.

A white circle appeared beneath her feet.

Then expanded.

Fast.

Runes formed along its edge.

Symbols spread outward through the ground.

The circle grew wider.

Ten meters.

Twenty.

Fifty.

Then continued until the entire arena floor was covered.

White magical lines glowed beneath my boots.

I tensed.

Nothing hurt.

No pressure.

No heat.

No visible attack.

Still, I felt something change.

Not inside my body exactly.

Around me.

The space itself seemed restricted somehow.

I looked down.

“Interesting.”

Rel lowered her hand.

“Don’t worry.”

“That’s what dangerous people say immediately before I should worry.”

“It doesn’t harm you.”

I tested my magic instinctively.

Then understood.

Blink.

The short-range teleportation ability did not respond normally.

Blocked.

I looked at Rel.

She smiled sweetly.

“This field prevents short-range teleportation.”

“Anti-Blink.”

“Yes.”

I looked around at the enormous circle.

“That seems very specifically annoying.”

“I dislike opponents appearing and disappearing around me.”

“Reasonable.”

“Especially behind me.”

“Also reasonable.”

Rel folded her hands behind her back.

“I prefer seeing where the person trying to hit me is standing.”

I smiled.

“Can’t complain.”

Her eyebrows rose.

“You don’t mind?”

“No.”

That apparently interested her.

I lifted my arms slightly.

Black energy stirred inside me.

Fine.

No Blink.

I had plenty else.

“Rampage.”

Power erupted.

Black aura spread around my body.

The sensation hit immediately.

Strength.

Speed.

Aggression sharpened into physical force.

My muscles tightened.

The arena ground beneath my feet suddenly felt lighter.

The crowd murmured.

Rel’s eyes remained focused on me.

Interested.

Not worried.

Of course not.

I inhaled.

Then called another ability.

“Berserker Aura.”

Red energy exploded outward.

The black aura of Rampage remained.

Red power wrapped over it.

My body strengthened further.

Muscles expanded.

My frame grew.

Power flooded through my arms, shoulders, legs, chest.

The combination made the air around me tremble.

Black and red energy twisted together.

Dust lifted from the arena floor.

Tiny stones rattled across the ground.

The silence in the stands broke.

People started shouting again.

I flexed one hand.

Strength responded.

A lot of strength.

Rel watched every movement.

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

Still smiling.

I rolled my shoulders.

“Teleportation would’ve been convenient.”

Rel nodded.

“Very.”

“But…”

I lowered my stance.

The ground cracked faintly beneath one foot.

“…I still have speed.”

Rel’s smile changed.

Satisfied.

Almost like that was exactly the answer she wanted.

She shifted one foot backward.

Raised her hands.

No dramatic pose.

No spell.

Just readiness.

Her golden eyes locked onto mine.

“Then…”

Her smile widened.

“…let’s begin.”