Gacha System: Reborn In The Hardest World
Chapter 33: Passing The Test

Chapter 33: Passing The Test

Through the exuberant stairways decorated with the paintings of former rulers and legendary heroes, they were led to a suite of their own within the castle.

Outfitted with kingly beds and enough fine wine to send a whale into a drunken stupor, they were more than accommodated.

Matteo sat at the in-home bar, pouring himself a cup of wine, "I will say, the people of Galios know fine taste."

At the same time, the woman of abundant muscle and lacking manners sprawled on a chair, guzzling mead from a barrel, "—You can say that!"

All the while, Gael watched with a sigh, considering the fact both his familiars had a fondness for alcohol.

Blythe sat on the window-side seat of the exuberant castle stay, "So...The fact you’re alive means the Monarch passed you."

"Yeah," Gael answered, sitting on the edge of the bed as he fed the capybara from a bowl of fruit. "Did you know that was going to happen? That he would try and kill me?"

For a moment, the silver-haired girl was quiet as she peeled the skin of an apple, "I knew it was a distinct possibility, yes. I did warn you about that."

"Yeah, but I still didn’t expect the damn king to fight me," Gael said with a sigh, laying back in the bed as he sprawled out.

"That’s how the Monarch is. Different from rulers of other countries, he was born and raised to battle," Blythe explained before taking a bite out of the peeled apple.

As he laid in the impressively soft bed, sinking into it a little, he turned on his side to face Blythe.

"He talked about his purpose being to bring the Age of Mankind—to get rid of the gods’ influence. Sounds like a lot of responsibility," Gael recalled.

Blythe crossed one leg over the other, leaning her elbow on the wall-side desk, "Don’t be mistaken in presuming the Monarch to be a hedonistic ruler. He’s more of a soldier than any in Galios."

"Sounds like a tough guy," Florentine chimed in, wiping her mouth of mead.

Blythe ignored the warrior’s remark, "From birth, those of royal blood in Galios are raised in combat. Do you know how the next ruler is chosen after a Monarch passes?"

"I’d assume it would be the oldest son, right?" Gael guessed.

"You’d be correct for any other kingdom," Blythe corrected him. "—However, Galios is different. The Lucrauv royal lineage chooses their successor based on the strongest among them."

"And how do they decide that?" Gael questioned.

The room fell silent as they listened in to what the noblewoman had to say, even the munching of the capybara paused briefly.

"—Combat. Those of royal blood that seek the throne battle to the death. The last remaining claims it," Blythe explained.

It sounded almost too outlandish to be real, though by the idle expression on Blythe’s face, it wasn’t a joke. He sat up in the bed as Matteo was already scribbling down the information in his journal.

"Are you serious—? The family kills each other?" Gael questioned in shock.

"It’s not as barbaric as you make it sound," Blythe said, brushing her hair behind her ear as she bit into the apple again.

Matteo turned around in his chair, leaning against the table as he sipped from his cup of wine, seeming intrigued by the culture of the land, "It goes the opposite of the usual way in which royal families behave, doesn’t it? I’d say Galios is following along how royal bloodlines were supposed to serve, at the dawn of time."

"Are you serious? To me, it just sounds needlessly brutal," Gael said.

"Well, battling to ensure the country gets its most fitting ruler, risking one’s life to obtain the throne, even at the cost of their own blood...It’s done for the sake of their country, isn’t it?" Matteo argued, leaning forward on his seat. "Becoming the Monarch of Galios isn’t a position I envy."

"When you put it like that, yeah, I can see it..." Gael agreed.

Though his mind was still brimming with unanswered questions, sitting on that bed in a room of allies, he found himself finally able to breathe in peace. Somehow or another, he was still in one piece after all that had happened–he was thankful for that.

["I only just arrived in this world recently, but I’ve experienced more adversity than I’d seen in my entire life up until this point. A "life without meaning", that’s how I lived before. Right now, though, it almost feels like there’s too much for me to do

A knock at the door led it to be opened by Matteo, letting in a butler that pushed a cart of plated entrees into the room.

"Compliments of the Monarch," the butler said, taking a bow as he removed the lid from the tray of plates.

The steaming entrees immediately coaxed the stomach of the exhausted, young man, hopping right out of bed. A plate of juicy steak, paired with vegetables–it spoke to his stomach.

"Yum!" Florentine didn’t waste any time snatching her plate and shoveling chewing on the steak like a dog.

Blythe showed proper manners to the butler, "Give our thanks to the Monarch."

"I will," the gray-haired servant bowed before taking his leave.

A small plate was even left for the capybara, who nibbled on the cooked vegetables beside the bed. Having a warm meal felt like recharging his battery as he cleaned his own plate off within minutes.

"That hit the spot...I wonder if Galios’ chefs are competitive, too," Gael remarked, setting his plate on the silver tray.

Matteo waved his fork as he laid back against the pristine, marble tabletop, "I’d wager everything is valued on some concept of "strength" here, even cooking."

"You’re correct in that assumption," Blythe said with a grimoire open on her lap, reading as she added. "--I’ve heard that the chefs of Galios are adventurers in their own right. It’s believed the best flavor comes when a chef prepares meat they hunted themselves."

"So, things like dragon meat...?" Gael asked.

Blythe nodded, "It doesn’t tend to be chefs hunting them alone, though there are cases of it. Usually, one is in the party that slays such a beast."

"Galios only gets crazier the more I hear about it," Gael said as he stood from the cushioned bed.

While there was some measure of free time, he began to experiment with the skills at his disposal, holding his hand out as the muscles beneath his skin rippled like unruly waves. As he clenched his hand, his forearm expanded to three times its normal size before deflating it.

"Hah–" Gael breathed out, shaking his arm as he looked at it.

Florentine uttered a choked sound as if seeing a bug, "That’s totally freaky."

On the other hand, Matteo watched closely while scribbling in his journal, "A form of magic? Did you take inspiration from that man’s Mana Rage, perhaps?"

Blythe was focused on her own book, though glanced with her keen eyes as if at least somewhat intrigued by the odd body of the Outlander.

He laughed, holding his arm up as he flexed his bicep, causing it to bulge to twice its normal capacity, "--Not exactly. I picked up a skill that lets me completely manipulate my own body. I’m trying to figure out what I can really do with it."

The concept unsurprisingly inspired curiosity from the avid notetaker, who approached with his journal open. As he stood there, Matteo inspected his body from every angle, nodding to himself and jotting down notes without so much as glancing at the parchment.

"Interesting. You’re saying this ability of yours grants you complete and intricate control over your body. Internally and perhaps externally, I wonder?" Matteo analyzed.

"From what I can tell, yeah. It’s not just "control", I can push my body past its normal capacity. When I fought the Monarch, I was able to move faster by expanding my calf muscles," Gael explained, lifting his right leg as he flexed his calf.

With complete control, he expanded the specific muscle as it inflated like that of a bodybuilder who spent decades training that one leg.

"Ha-ha! That’s quite the power. I’ve heard of some similar talents existing, though I’ve never witnessed it firsthand," Matteo claimed in astonishment, tapping the leg with his quill.

Gael withdrew his leg, not wanting much for it to be prodded like a science experiment, "Yeah, well...This might be my current strongest ability. If the Monarch has plans for me, I need to figure out how to use it to its full effectiveness."

"If you don’t mind me suggesting..." Matteo inquired with intrigue.

"Go ahead, I’m all ears," Gael prompted.

"Well, if you’re able to control every facet of your physical form, there are certainly some interesting possibilities. May I see your hand?" Matteo asked.

Gael raised an eyebrow, though obliged as he held his palm out, "Sure–"

Before he could even get a further answer, the curious man withdrew the blade at his hip, quickly slashing it over the Outlander’s palm.

"Ah–what the?--" Gael reacted, withdrawing his hand.

Florentine was quick to her feet, reaching for her hammer, "What’s the big idea, four-eyes?!"

"Ah, it was only a light cut, just enough to draw blood," Matteo explained, holding his hands up. "Master, would you mind trying to see if you can manipulate the blood leaving your wound? Try forming a sphere."

Though it was a roundabout method of testing, he calmed down, looking at his bleeding hand as crimson liquid ran down his skin. As he focused on the sensation of the blood leaving his veins, the fluid began to vibrate, rippling before–

It coalesced into a sphere; perfectly rounded without any dents, floating above his hand.

"I did it," Gael remarked, looking at it. "That’s weird."