ASCC-Chapter 97 Let’s Make a Big News Story First!

The grand arena on East Main Street loomed over the bustling thoroughfare, its towering structure the most striking landmark in the district. It stood as a coliseum of competition, drawing in a diverse crowd— civilians and Adventurers alike, predominantly human but interspersed with various Demi-Human races.

In the world of DanMachi, aside from the divine beings who govern the Familias, non-human races are collectively known as "Demi-Humans."

Demi-Humans generally fall into five primary races:

Elves, gifted with exceptional magical aptitude.

Pallums, small in stature but possessing keen eyesight and dexterity.

Dwarves, naturally endowed with immense strength and resilience.

Amazonesses, a warrior race composed solely of women.

Beastmen, humanoids bearing the traits and instincts of various animals.

Each of these races possesses unique strengths and weaknesses. In contrast, humans lack innate magical affinity or extraordinary physical abilities, making them the most unremarkable of all.

However, what humans lack in raw power, they make up for in adaptability. While most Demi-Human races have reproductive limitations, humans alone can interbreed with them, giving rise to Half-Demi-Humans— offspring who may inherit traits from both parents.

This remarkable versatility is what keeps humanity at the center of the world's history. Though other races might surpass them individually, humans have expanded their influence, established vast territories, and forged countless legends that shape the course of Orario's destiny.

But on a one-on-one battlefield, power reigns supreme— and in that domain, Demi-Humans often take the upper hand.

—

"Up next, for our 56th match of the day, we have Hawks of the Dwarves facing off against Garman the Human!"

"Both fighters are Lv.1 Adventurers, but Hawks, a Dwarf born with immense natural strength, has already defended his title four times in a row! Will Garman manage to break his streak, or will Hawks claim yet another victory? Let's find out!"

The announcer's voice boomed through the arena, amplified by a magic stone-powered megaphone, his words igniting the crowd.

"Go, Hawks! I bet all my Valis on you!"

"Don't lose, Garman! Show the strength of humanity!"

The stadium erupted with cheers as the two warriors stepped onto the stage.

Hawks, a burly Dwarf, wielded a heavy battle-axe and shield, his stance sturdy as a fortress. Across from him, Garman gripped a pair of twin swords, his eyes sharp with determination. They measured each other in silence—then, in a flash, the battle began.

Beneath the stage, a dignified blue-haired woman observed the fight with an unwavering gaze.

She stood tall— roughly 175 cm, her well-toned physique clad in a finely crafted battle skirt. Metal gauntlets and boots protected her long limbs, enhancing the authority in her stance. Her ear-length azure hair framed a face of striking elegance, her sharp blue eyes scanning the fight like a seasoned veteran.

With her trained perception, she had already foreseen the outcome. Her role was not to interfere— only to ensure that no combatant met an untimely end.

"Captain, we have a situation."

As expected, Hawks shattered Garman's twin swords with a powerful swing, signaling the match's imminent conclusion. But before she could react, a crew member hurried to her side, his expression troubled.

She turned to him, her voice steady. "What's wrong?"

"Please, come with me."

Without hesitation, she followed.

They arrived at the contestant registration desk— where a dispute was already underway.

"I'm human."

"But…"

"I said I'm human. Now hand me the registration form."

The young man standing at the counter spoke with quiet conviction, his very presence commanding attention. Though his back was turned, something about him sent a ripple through the air, an inexplicable force that unsettled the staff.

The blue-haired woman furrowed her brows. "What's going on here?"

As she stepped forward, the young man turned toward her—and in that instant, her breath caught.

A brief tremor ran through her chest.

"Such a breathtakingly beautiful boy exists in this world?"

Even in the presence of gods, this young man would stand undiminished. His beauty was almost unreal, a radiance so profound that even deities might pale in comparison.

For a brief moment, she wondered if her thirty-some years of life had been in vain.

The blue-haired beauty shook her head, quickly banishing such thoughts. With a steady breath, she regained her composure, her expression once again serious.

"What exactly is the issue here?"

She pressed the question again.

"Shakti-san, it's like this…"

The staff member in charge of registration looked nearly on the verge of tears as he hurried to explain.

In short, this young man had arrived at the arena and insisted on entering the ring, yet the staff member dared not hand over the registration form.

The reason was simple— no matter how one looked at him, he had to be a god.

Although his divine name was unknown, mortals were expected to show deference to all gods without exception.

More importantly, if something happened to a deity inside the arena, the person responsible for allowing them to compete would undoubtedly face the Guild's punishment.

Dealing with gods was always troublesome. They brought chaos wherever they went, often using mortals as pawns for their own entertainment. And yet, mortals had no choice but to accommodate them with reverence.

It was an exhausting and unfair reality.

"I see."

Shakti kept her expression neutral as she turned to the young man standing at the counter.

She studied him carefully— only to realize that he was doing the same to her.

What an incredibly strong woman.

Though she wasn't deliberately exerting pressure, every subtle movement she made— her posture, her measured breathing, the way she carried herself— spoke of a seasoned warrior, someone who had honed her body and instincts over years of experience.

Ryoji noted this instantly.

"Forgive my bluntness, but I don't believe I've seen a god like you in Orario before."

Shakti's sharp gaze remained locked onto him, unflinching and resolute.

Orario was home to many deities, but the number of those residing in the city was limited. A god with such a striking appearance would not go unnoticed. She was certain of it—there was no such god in Orario.

Unlike the flustered Guild staff, Shakti was both observant and intelligent.

The arena itself was under the Guild's jurisdiction, but it was managed by the Ganesha Familia, as the Guild lacked the combat strength necessary to maintain order among powerful Adventurers.

"I'm not a god," Ryoji stated plainly. "Just a wandering swordsman from outside the city."

"For the hundredth time today…" he muttered under his breath.

"…I see."

Shakti studied him for a moment longer before nodding thoughtfully.

"Then let me make this clear—this arena does not separate matches by level. Whether you are an ordinary civilian or an experienced Adventurer, once you enter this ring, there are no handicaps.

One misstep could cost you your life.

Before stepping into the arena, you must sign a contract, acknowledging that whatever happens inside—injury or death—will be your sole responsibility.

Are you absolutely certain you still want to fight?"

"Of course."

Shakti's expression remained unreadable for a moment. Then, she gave a small nod.

"Very well. Hand him the registration form and the contract."

Her reaction was subtle, but a flicker of surprise crossed her features.

This young man had answered without hesitation—unlike a god.

Gods, despite their love for entertainment, rarely put themselves in real danger. Since they were forbidden from using their Arcanum—their divine power—during their time in the lower world, a fatal wound could easily mean the end for them.

And while it was true that a god would revive in the divine realm upon death, their Arcanum would activate in the process, violating the rules of the divine descent.

Any god who triggered their Arcanum would be forcibly expelled from the lower world and sent back to the heavens.

More importantly, any mortal responsible for a god's forced departure would be severely punished by the Guild—blacklisted, or worse, hunted down.

That was why gods never fought in the arena.

However, once a contract was signed, the Guild had no further say in the matter—even if the combatant turned out to be a god.

Seeing that Shakti had taken charge of the situation, the Guild staff finally let out a collective sigh of relief. One of them quickly pulled out a parchment registration form and a matching contract, placing them on the counter before Ryoji.

Shakti glanced over his form—and her brows lifted slightly.

"…No level?"

She raised an eyebrow at his answer.

"Are you seriously entering as an unranked fighter against Adventurers?"

(End of Chapter)

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