by Yuu Tanaka
“Here?”
“Arf!”
He reminded me of a goofy Golden Retriever that an old man in my neighborhood used to keep. Jet didn’t seem like a wolf in the slightest, let alone a direwolf.
We have a few hours before we need to leave. Anything you want to do before then?
“Hm. Come here, Teacher.”
Okay…what’s up?
“Hm.”
Fran produced a piece of cloth from her Pocket Dimension and began buffing my blade. She laid me on the bed and put her back into it.
Hey, you still have a match to fight. Don’t go tiring yourself out, now.
“I’m fine.”
But…
“I’m not the only one in the arena today.”
What?
“Think of all the people who’ll see you today. You need to look good, too,” Fran said, continuing her maintenance.
As much as I wanted to thank her, I thought of myself as nothing more than a weapon in her arsenal. Try as I might to refuse, her expert hands were too much for me to resist.
Aah, yeah…that hits the spot.
“Here?”
Yep…right there…that’s good!
“Hm!”
Thirty minutes later, my blade shone like a mirror. Fran wiped a bead of sweat from her chin and nodded at her reflection with satisfaction.
You still good on stamina?
“I’m fine.”
Good. Exhausting herself for the sake of maintaining me would be putting the sword before the swordsman.
All right, let’s get going.
“Hm!”
Fighters participating in the finals were told to gather at the guild. A-Block fighters needed to be especially early, since our fights started in the morning.
“A-11…Fran?”
“Hm.”
A tournament official approached as soon as we entered the guildhall. The officials had probably memorized the faces of each fighter. “Right this way.”
The man led us to a waiting room, formerly the guild’s private quarters. The second and third floors had been converted for the contestants, since making everyone wait in the same room was bound to cause fights and scuffles. I could easily imagine Fran being the cause.
“You will be fighting in the sixth round today. Please wait here until then. Each match has a hard time limit of thirty minutes, so you will wait a maximum of two and a half hours.”
“Hm. Sure.”
“You will be allowed to watch other matches once you have finished your own, but please do not leave the room until then. You may be called up earlier if the preceding fights go faster.”
The finals had a time limit to prevent slow matches and to allow the tournament to get on with its primary business. In the event the time ran out, judges would be called to decide the victor.
“If you need anything, just talk to the official outside your room.”
The official would provide anything from light refreshments to last-minute shopping. Tournament finalists were treated like VIPs. Everything we needed was in our Pocket Dimension, so I doubted we would need to use him. Sure enough, Fran wasted no time in pulling out refreshments.
You know, you ate a lot on the way here…are you sure you should be eating this close to the fight?
“Hm!”
Fran was already stuffing her face full of curry before I could finish my sentence. I was worried it would slow her down in the match. Then again, whatever ill effects she suffered from the curry would be easily offset by the dramatic boost in motivation it provided. Besides, I doubted even a massive plate of it would fill her stomach to the brim.
Well, just take it slow.
“Don’t worry. I’m only half full.” She polished the plate off in a matter of minutes.
I’ll cast some Cleansing Magic so the room won’t stink as much.
She carried on with steak, a cutlet bowl, and finished up with cake for dessert. Fran ate and relaxed for about an hour until a knock came at the door.
“May I come in, Fran?”
“Hm,” Fran answered with a mouth full of whipped cream.
The official walked into the room and didn’t even blink at the sight. He’s good at his job, this one.
“The fourth round has just come to an end. Since your match is two rounds away, we would like for you to move to the waiting room near the arena, please.”
That was sooner than I expected. Fran asked the official about the matches so far and he told her that the first round had ended in a flash. Gaudartha won, as expected. The giant beastman closed in on his opponents as soon as the match began and knocked them out. No wonder he was the Beast King’s elite bodyguard.
The two fights after that took almost the entire thirty minutes. No one wanted the victor to be chosen by deliberation, so they fought each other to their absolute limits.
We made our way through an underground passage to the arena. Fan favorites would cause too much of a ruckus if they took the land route. Private rooms awaited us near the arena, more luxurious than the waiting rooms at the guild hall. Ours came equipped with a fancy sofa and a feather-quilted bed. The organizers spared no expense.
“The fifth match will soon be underway. You may be called immediately, so please get ready.”
“Hm. Sure.”
“Please wait here until you are called.”
“Hm!”
Fran threw herself onto the fluffy sofa, clearly enjoying the cool touch of its leather, and perked up her ears to listen to what was going on outside. I followed her lead and strained to hear the match. Cruise should be up against Radule at the moment. The explosions I heard must have been the old mage’s spells.
Fran listened for a while before losing interest. She jumped onto the bed and played with Jet. I wanted to warn her to keep the direwolf off, but now wasn’t the time to be worried about that. Dirty bedsheets were a small price to pay for her peace of mind. I listened until the crowd became too loud to be intelligible.
Is the fight over?
It sure sounded like it was. I strained my ears again, listening for the commentator’s voice in all the noise.
“He did it! C-Rank adventurer Cruise pulls through a victory against all odds!”
Wait, seriously? Cruise won? Really?
“What is it, Teacher?” Fran asked, my surprise hadn’t escaped her.
Well, it sounds like Cruise beat Radule.
“Who’s Cruise?”
I just told you… Never mind. Anyway, you’re almost up. Get ready.
“Hm. Okay.”
Fran ordered Jet to return to the shadows and set me on her back. She finished by storing away the snacks she was munching on. A tournament official came to fetch us, and we left the comfortable confines of the waiting room.
“Right this way.”
“Hm.”
The path to the arena was wide and well-lit.
You nervous?
“Should I be?”
I talked to Fran to ease her nerves, but it didn’t seem like she had any. In fact, she was in such a good mood that she was almost skipping. She couldn’t wait to throw down with whoever this Zehmet was.
Didn’t think you’d be nervous. Guess you’re ready for your first match.
“Can’t wait.”
Jet, only come out on our mark.
Woof.
We passed through the hallway and entered the arena, which was twice as large as the one from the second round. There were about ten times as many spectators, too. No one could make out what they were saying as their thunderous applause combined into a deafening roar, descending on us from the bleachers like a waterfall. It reminded me of the finals of the World Cup back on Earth.
“Ugh.” Fran flopped down her ears.
You all right?
“Hm…I’m fine now.”
Good thing she adapted fast. Exceptional hearing might be a problem here. The deafening applause made me wonder if beastmen like Royce were at a disadvantage. As the loud no
ise flustered Fran, an unknown voice rang through the arena.
“The time has come for the sixth match of A-Block! Making her way to the ring is the adorable A-11. But don’t let her looks fool you! This is the talk of the town, the newly minted C-Rank, the Swordceress Fran!”
On the commentator’s mark, Fran stepped into the ring. Her opponent was already waiting for her there.
“Hrmph.”
She frowned when she saw what she was facing. It was no exaggeration to say that she was dripping with resentment.
“Her opponent is A-12, the young leader of the mercenary band Blue Pride! One of the up-and-coming figures of the Blue Cat tribe! Blue Lightning Zehmet!”
A Blue Cat. And the leader of Blue Pride, at that. Fran glared at Zehmet and drew me from my sheath. She took a step forward, showing her murderous intent.
I didn’t expect to be fighting another Blue Cat so soon. He was my enemy as long as he was Fran’s. He would’ve been mincemeat by now if we had run into him outside the city walls, but we would have to show some degree of restraint here.
Fran confronted Zehmet in the center of the ring.
“Hey there. Looks like you’ve met one of my people already,” Zehmet said, smiling like some kind of cheap prince.
“…”
‘Met one of your people’? We would’ve killed him if it wouldn’t have disqualified us!
Fran maintained her silent glare.
“Uh, do you have to keep glaring at me?”
“Hmph.” She had no intention of hiding her hostility.
Zehmet responded with a bitter smile, scratching his head. “I-I know! How about we shake hands as a show of good faith?” His smile was friendly as he extended his arm.
“Don’t touch me with your dirty hands.”
“Oh…”
He looked heartbroken. He was putting on quite a show, though. I almost felt sorry for him. But of course he was acting—he was a Blue Cat. Not that I spotted Acting among his skill list…but Blue Cats were the enemies of the Black Cats. It was written in their DNA. That handshake might’ve been followed up with a knife for all I knew.
“…”
And yet Zehmet still stuck out his hand in the hopes that Fran would take it. When she didn’t, he bowed his head to her.
“I’ve suspended Seith.”
“Hm?”
Who’s Seith?
“He’s the guy you beat in the second qualifiers.”
“Because he lost to a Black Cat?”
A proud Blue Cat lost to a lowly Black Cat. I didn’t think the leader of Blue Pride would’ve let him off easy. Maybe “suspend” was code for “hanging,” but Zehmet corrected her.
“No. His words were out of line, even if they were under the pretense of firing up the crowd. I apologize for his sake.”
“…!”
Zehmet hung his head low. The declaration shocked Fran and baffled me, especially because he was telling the truth. I’d activated Essence of Falsehood as soon as Zehmet started talking…but he hadn’t uttered a single lie so far.
“I plan on demoting Seith from his position, as well. I want to eliminate the prejudice against Black Cats.”
Fran was confused by these impossible words. “What are you talking about, Blue Cat? Have you lost your mind?”
“Ha ha…you would think that. And I understand that you don’t believe me. But trust me when I say that I have no intention of underestimating you, and that I despise the slave trade.”
Fran looked at him with suspicion. She couldn’t trust him. Who was to say this wasn’t all a ploy to make her go easy on him? “If you want to fool me, you need to come up with better lies,” she spat, but there were no lies here.
Fran, this guy hasn’t told a single lie so far.
Are you kidding me?
Wish I was. He’s telling the truth. He really is sorry.
Fran bored deep into Zehmet’s eyes. He didn’t waver, because he had nothing to hide. Even so, Fran couldn’t believe it. “You’re lying!” she screamed in a flustered rage.
I sympathized with her confusion. It was like meeting a mob boss who turned out to actually be a good person. The encounter would’ve been difficult to believe under any circumstance, but it was even more impossible to take in right before a battle.
Calm down, Fran. It doesn’t change what we came here to do.
Whether Zehmet was telling the truth or not didn’t matter. For now, we had a fight to win.
“Hm. I’ll cut you down, then think about it,” Fran muttered, readying her blade.
“You’re right. This is not the time for such discussion.” Zehmet had no intention of backing out, either. He drew his blades—one on his back and one on his hip. This guy was a dual-wielder.
He’s strong, Fran.
But he’s a Blue Cat.
Even then, he’s strong.
All right…
Zehmet had a good balance of skills and stats. As a mercenary, he was able to wield multiple weapons, but he preferred swords. No wonder he made it through the qualifiers. He was evolved, too—a Blue Leopard, to be precise. Underestimating him would be a bad move.
Name: Zehmet
Age: 36
Race: Blue Cat; Blue Leopard
Class: Blitz Knight
Level: 53/99
HP: 541; Magic: 236; Strength: 217; Agility: 322
Skills: Stealth 3; Evasion 5; Danger Sense 6; Bow Arts 3; Bow Mastery 4; Vigilance 4; Sword Arts 8; Sword Mastery 10; Advanced Sword Mastery 2; Command 6; Raise Morale 3; Kick Arts 4; Kick Mastery 5; Blink 10; Flash Step 3; Interrogate 4; Spear Arts 2; Spear Mastery 3; Dual Blade Mastery 5; Elemental Blade 2; Climb 7; Poison Resistance 3; Water Magic 3; Paralysis Resistance 2; Spirit Manipulation; Sense of Direction; Night Vision
Class Skill: Awaken; Blitz Blade; Leopard Paw
Titles: Glorious Founder
Equipment: Azure Dragon Fang Shortsword; Adamantine Alloy Longsword; Hydra Full Plate; Greatwing Dragon Feather Cloak; Bracelet of Status Resistance; Ring of Life Regeneration
“Are the contestants ready?”
“Hm.”
“Any time you are.”
“Very well. Begin!”
The fight commenced, and the combatants immediately made their move.
“Haaa!”
“Raargh!”
Fran threw the entire weight of her anger into her swing. While inelegant, the strike could end the fight in one blow. Zehmet crossed his blades together to block her attack, attempting to knock me out of Fran’s hands. She held on tight thanks to her superior strength and Sword Mastery.
They clashed swords, trading blows and weaving in feints to make the other drop their guard. Blow after killing blow was dodged and deflected, and it looked like they were an even match. But Fran dealt with Zehmet’s dual blades with only one of me, and eventually she got the upper hand. Sword Mastery was paying off.
Meanwhile, Zehmet was having trouble keeping up with Fran’s calm and calculated strikes. He had to turn this around before it was too late.
“Blitz Blade!”
“Hmph!”
“Urgh!”
Blitz Blade, the Class Skill of the Blitz Knight, was a high-velocity strike. It was fast, but nothing Fran couldn’t handle. In fact, the attack’s speed made it a prime target for a counter-strike. Zehmet managed to block her counter with his shortsword, but she was getting the hang of it. She’d get him next time for sure. He had the same idea, and stopped using Blitz Blade altogether.
He jumped back a great distance, abandoning his offensive. The ten-meter leap happened so fast that Fran couldn’t keep up.
“Ugh!”
Fran widened her eyes, straining to get a read on Zehmet’s next move. This was probably an effect of his other Class Skill, Leopard Paw.
“You’re very strong,” he said.
Fran stared at Zehmet. Her confusion and doubt had vanished. “You’re not bad, I guess,” she admitted.
“Thank you.”
&nb
sp; Fran raised her eyebrows at his honest and straightforward gratitude.
“I knew Black Cats could be strong, too. Discriminating against them is a mistake.”
“…”
Now that Fran had settled down, she was more prepared to accept the man’s honest stance. She finally understood that his earlier apology was authentic.
“Never seen a Blue Cat who wasn’t a piece of garbage.” She held no malice towards him, despite her words. Fran looked at Zehmet with genuine curiosity.
“Heh…yeah… We really do need to change our ways,” Zehmet laughed bitterly. While honest, Fran’s words were still heartbreaking. He readied himself again, remembering that they were still on a battlefield. “But just because I’ve apologized to you doesn’t mean I’m going to let you win. My band’s name is at stake here. I’ll be taking this round.”
“That’s my line.” Fran readied me again, but her curiosity brought a faint smile to her lips.
“Huff…”
I felt Zehmet gather his magical energy.
“Awaken…!”
His body started to swell as soon as he uttered the word. His muscles expanded, especially his thighs and calves. Black and blue spots dotted his body like his namesake, the Blue Leopard.
“The blood of the Blue Leopard enhances all of my physical abilities. I am not the same man you fought earlier. Prepare yourself. Blitz Blade!”
Zehmet disappeared.
CLANG! A high-pitched ring resounded throughout the arena.
“Ungh!”
Fran could only block Zehmet’s strike. The attack came out of nowhere. It felt like he had teleported.
“Didn’t expect you to block it the first time…haaaa!”
Awaken was buffing him. He got an additional thirty to all of his stats, pumping his Agility to over two hundred—on par with some A-Rank adventurers. This was the power of an evolved Blue Cat! This man was the fastest fighter we’d seen to date!
Adding to his already immense speed, he used Flash Step and Leopard Paw to run circles around his enemies. He chipped away at them with Blitz Blade, whittling them away at maximum velocity. A weaker adventurer would’ve been torn to shreds.
Fran avoided all of his meaty strikes. She had spent a lot of time practicing her Sense skills in the dungeon and could anticipate where Zehmet’s attacks were coming from. As long as she could see them, she could deflect them.
