Reincarnated as a Sword Vol. 6

by Yuu Tanaka

  “Impossible…!”

  Zehmet panicked. As strong as Fran was, he didn’t expect her to defeat his evolved form. He was more experienced, more skilled, more powerful than her. Panic turned to power as he intensified his assault. Zehmet’s plan was to break through Fran’s defenses with sheer speed, but his velocity came at a cost. His attacks were indeed faster, but they lost the feints and combinations which made them so dangerous. His speed might have overwhelmed other fighters, but it had little effect on Fran. In fact, his greatest weapon made him predictable.

  “Stone Wall.”

  “Ack…!”

  A knee-high wall erupted in Zehmet’s way as he came in from behind. The spell launched his body several feet in the air. He was like a bike rider who’d rammed into a guardrail at full speed.

  “You saw right through me…?!”

  Zehmet was shocked by Fran’s spells, each perfectly anticipating his attack. He really shouldn’t be talking to himself in a fight.

  “Inferno Burst.”

  “Guh!”

  Fran launched a Flame spell at the defenseless Zehmet, but we had underestimated Leopard Paw. He managed to execute something like an Air Hop by kicking out mid-flight. I thought we had him, but the Blue Cat managed to dodge our killing spell.

  Damn it!

  This guy didn’t know how to quit! No wonder he was the leader of his own mercenary band! But Fran was still in complete control, and I was intent on watching her from the best seat in the house. I remained calm as Inferno Burst dispersed before my eyes, but Fran managed to be even calmer.

  “Vernier.”

  “When did you…?!”

  Fran used the shade cast by her Flame spell to prepare her next attack. She was already accelerating when she saw Zehmet dodge Inferno Burst. If the spell didn’t take him down, then she’d do it herself.

  “Haaaa!”

  “Gaaaah!”

  Fran wasn’t going to lose a battle of velocity. Not even against an Awakened Zehmet. Her sudden speed shocked him, as though she had teleported right behind him. He had never fought anyone faster than him, and was powerless to defend against her. He threw his left sword at her while thrusting his right, but his desperate swings bore no fruit. Fran stored the thrown weapon inside her Pocket Dimension, while the other blade merely grazed her cheek.

  “Urgh!”

  “Aaaargh!”

  In the blink of an eye, she had chopped Zehmet’s foot right off. Dismemberment was probably good enough to secure her victory, but Fran considered the possibility he could recover and threw him out of the ring. Blood gushed in an arc from his amputated foot as he slammed into the wall. Fran stood alone in the center of the ring and smiled. Victory was hers.

  “And she’s done it again! An astounding match from both fighters! Did you catch all that, folks? The agility, the grace, the violence? Because this commentator sure didn’t! They were rolling around at the speed of sound!” the commentator blared in resignation.

  The fighters of the match had the speed of A-Ranks.

  “Your winner is the Enfant Terrible, the Swordceress, Fran! At twelve years old, she is the youngest finalist this tournament has ever seen!”

  The crowd burst with applause. I guess Fran just broke the age record.

  After her victory over Zehmet, Fran left the clamor of the crowd behind. An official guided her back to the waiting room.

  “Congratulations on winning the first round.”

  “Hm.”

  “Your next fight will be the day after tomorrow. It will be held at the same time as today.”

  “Got it.”

  “That will be all for now. Feel free to enjoy yourself.”

  After making the requisite announcements, the official left and we discussed our plans for the rest of the day.

  What now?

  I want to see the fights.

  Good idea. I think we can make Colbert’s match.

  Hm. I want to watch the others, too.

  Fran had never had the chance to watch others do battle. Seeing how other combatants handled themselves would be a good experience for her. It would raise her spirits, too.

  Let’s get going, then.

  Hm.

  As we were about to leave the guild, the tournament official called out to us again. “Are you going to watch the fights?”

  “Yeah.”

  “May I recommend a change of clothes? The spectators might recognize you and cause a ruckus.”

  Tournament fans would be able to tell who Fran was at a glance. With all the money riding on the fights, it wasn’t hard to imagine that she would be called out by sore losers and perverts who had a thing for little girls.

  “I’ll be discreet.”

  “Thank you.”

  Nothing a little Stealth and Conceal Presence couldn’t fix. She took a hooded cloak from her Pocket Dimension, put it on, and resumed her trek to the arena. Contestants were allowed to use the back entrance—Fran only needed to flash her adventurer card. Even then, the seats were absolutely packed.

  So many people.

  No wonder a lot of folks are standing around.

  There were no empty seats, and I was beginning to wonder if Fran would have to stand like everyone else. After a few minutes of searching, we saw an entire empty block. Did a whole group just leave?

  There we are.

  “Hm.”

  Fran took a seat, which was in perfectly working order. As I wondered about the reason for the vacancies, the answer came sauntering up.

  “What are you sitting around here for?”

  “Hm?”

  “Reserved seats. Get outta here, kid.”

  “Our boss is coming over later, see!”

  Some rowdy roughhousers were keeping these seats for themselves, scaring their fellow spectators away with threats. A quick Identify revealed them to be street thugs, strong enough to intimidate regular townsfolk into submission. But Fran was used to meaner adventurers than these. To her, they were nothing more than poorly behaved citizens. She understood that they were picking a fight, and proceeded to give them exactly what they wanted.

  “Stun Bolt.”

  “Gyaa!”

  “Aieee!”

  “Oof!”

  She knocked out the three men with a single bolt and piled their unconscious bodies in the hallway. The other spectators were shocked at the sudden display of violence, their eyes turning to saucers. They looked away from the two nameless figures duking it out in the ring, and set their gaze firmly on Fran. If this went on, they might even figure out who she was.

  Fran, pull your hood down more.

  “Hm.”

  What should we do with these guys? Just leave them here?

  “Hm…Jet?”

  “Arf.”

  The audience panicked as Jet sprang out of Fran’s shadow. She wasn’t the least bothered and proceeded to load two of the thugs on his back. Jet lifted the third one by his collar.

  “Put them away somewhere.”

  “Woof.”

  “That’ll do it.”

  Serves them right. They were causing trouble for everyone here.

  Fran sent him off and returned to her seat. The other spectators began to take the seats around her. None of them attempted to talk, having the good sense to avoid whatever she was about. Things settled down, and we were finally able to watch the match.

  The thugs’ boss came looking for his lackeys a little later, but one look at Fran was enough to make him turn tail and run. The look on the leader’s face said he knew exactly who’d taken his seat, and he wanted nothing to do with her. That was the only problem we ran into, if you could even call it one.

  There was one other issue, I guess. Amanda’s and Colbert’s matches ended so fast that we couldn’t learn anything about them.

  Colbert was up against a mage named Akasa. He was a red-haired man decked out in flowing black robes. He certainly looked strong. A quick run through his skill sheet suggested that he used Illusion M
agic to make copies of himself before taking his opponent down with a powerful Wind spell. I wouldn’t be surprised if Akasa took notes from Dias.

  “Hello, Colbert,” he said, on entering the ring. “It must be my lucky day.”

  “You think so?”

  “My battle plan is well suited to dealing with fighters like yourself. This match is as good as mine. Victory will be sweet.”

  “Heh, well, you sound confident. I just hope you’re not getting ahead of yourself.”

  “I have no need to be confident. Our match is a solved equation.”

  Akasa had a point. Colbert’s lack of Sense skills meant he would have a hard time against his illusions…

  “Take this!”

  “Urgh!”

  …if only Akasa had time to cast a single spell. Within five seconds of the match’s start, Colbert closed in on the mage and landed a punch square in his gut. That was the end of it. They spent more time talking than fighting.

  Akasa’s battle plan consisted of putting some distance between him and his opponent. He had no way of dealing with a faster opponent who could close in quickly. This was the problem with many mages, now that I thought about it. The restricted arena meant that melee fighters had an advantage.

  This might be why there were so few mages in the tournament. That information was well worth the five seconds of the fight.

  Go in fast when you’re up against mages, I suppose.

  Hm!

  Amanda’s fight came next, and it was even worse. We couldn’t glean anything from it. She was up against Romucchio, a half-naked man with muscles that out-bulged Elza’s.

  “Ga ha ha ha! Looks like I’m fighting one hell of a beauty today!”

  “Hello to you, too.”

  “Oooh! You get my blood boiling, girl!”

  “…”

  Amanda smiled, but it soon faded as Romucchio began posing. His skin was oiled, and Amanda looked disgusted as he flexed his muscles. We could feel her intent to kill all the way from the bleachers. Romucchio totally missed the cue. The big muscleman continued his routine, grinning suggestively at Amanda.

  “Baby, I’m going to put you into a hard and oily submission!”

  “…”

  “Then, I’ll bury you in my pecs!”

  “Urp.” Amanda gagged slightly before flipping into battle mode.

  The match started…

  Thwack!

  …and ended with a loud explosion. Romucchio was no longer in the ring. The audience didn’t have time to cheer. The big, oily man slammed into a wall with a wet thud. Even the judges needed time to process what just happened.

  Amanda had cracked her whip as soon as the match began and sent him flying. The average person wouldn’t have been able to tell what happened, but it didn’t escape our notice.

  And here I thought she’d put more effort into it.

  “Hm…”

  Amanda had been more serious during our last mock battle. I guess she had to hold back to keep from killing Romucchio. The audience laughed as the tournament officials struggled to carry his unconscious body away, but Fran and I were disappointed.

  Elza and Charlotte’s fight was much more interesting. Charlotte’s dancing combat style was as artistic as it was dangerous. She literally danced circles around Elza, attacking her with her metal hoop. The large ring was designed not only to cause damage, but also to catch on an opponent’s weapon to yank it from their hands.

  Charlotte continued her assault with a Water spell, creating a rainbow as it faded. Combined with her beautiful dancing, the battle looked more like a performance than an all-out brawl. You would be forgiven for thinking of it that way, if it weren’t for the loud shrieks of metal crashing into metal. The crowd loved it, but despite their support, Charlotte wasn’t strong enough to defeat Elza.

  “There!”

  “Aaahn!”

  “Um…what?”

  “Oh, that feels so good! Give me more!”

  The metal hoop smacked Elza in the rear and she squealed with pleasure. Her reaction startled Charlotte and threw her off balance. Transmute Pain allowed its user to convert pain into pleasure. As if that wasn’t enough, this particular user was a masochist at heart, and I doubted Charlotte had ever encountered anyone like her. She kept up her assault as best she could until a kick from Elza sent her flying.

  “I see you!”

  “Urgh! How did you—”

  “Your feints are getting a little predictable, honey.”

  When Elza broke through Charlotte’s illusion-inducing dances, the fight was as good as done.

  “Haaa!”

  “Kyaaa!”

  Dodging Elza’s gigantic mace took everything Charlotte had.

  “Hee hee. Gotcha!”

  “Agh! No! I can’t get away…”

  “You have some nice moves, dear. Just needs a little more oomph.”

  “Wait, what are—aaaaah!”

  “Buh-bye now!”

  Elza caught Charlotte by the back of her neck and flung her out of the ring. With that, the match came to a satisfying end. Both combatants had given it their all.

  We learned a lot from the other matches, too—including the creative use of skills I’d never even thought of. For example, there was a bandit who intentionally buffed his opponent’s sense of smell before throwing a stink bomb. We might never need to use that, but it was interesting to see a status buff used to inflict a disadvantage.

  We also learned a lot about Steel Magic after seeing it in action. You could melt your opponent’s weaponry and control the arena by heating up parts of the ground, for example. And the subtle usage of Compound Magic made me want to invest a few points in it.

  As for Fran, she was more than sufficiently motivated. She fidgeted so much I could feel it through my sheath. She was like a schoolboy watching his friends play a videogame, waiting for his turn.

  There’s a lot of strong fighters here.

  Hm!

  The sun was setting by the time the scheduled fights were over.

  Let’s go back to the inn.

  “Hmm…” Fran tilted her head.

  Or is there somewhere you want to check out first?

  Fran took a sword from her Pocket Dimension. It looked familiar. Where had I seen it before?

  “I accidentally took Zehmet’s sword.”

  Zehmet’s Azure Dragon Fang Shortsword. The one he threw at her in calculated desperation. I’d wondered where that went. The blade was quite strong and would sell for a decent price.

  Yeah, we should probably give that back.

  “Hm.”

  As hostile as Blue Pride was, we couldn’t say the same about Zehmet. I kind of liked him, and Fran seemed to feel the same way.

  Jet, can you track his scent?

  “Woof!”

  No problems there. We followed Jet for a good twenty minutes before he led us to the city outskirts.

  Is this the place?

  “Woof.”

  The empty lot didn’t have much in the way of housing, but there were tents set up here and there. They were tied down with logs, and looked intimidating. Blue Pride probably couldn’t get a place to stay, and so had set up their own little base camp. Paying for the entire crew’s accommodation took money, and the mercenary band was probably used to camping.

  How were we supposed to find Zehmet in all these tents? I wanted to avoid contact with the other Blue Cats as much as possible. Suddenly, someone came towards us.

  “You!” a girl in her teens shouted furiously. I remembered her pointing her finger at us outside of Aurel’s mansion, along with the rest of Blue Pride. Fran had Intimidated her into submission and left her to Elza’s mercy.

  “Do I know you?”

  Of course, Fran didn’t remember. But she still hated Blue Cats in general, especially the weak ones.

  “Hmph! My name is Selen! Lieutenant of Blue Pride!”

  This girl was their lieutenant?! She had terrible stats, although she did have Rhe
toric and Threaten under her skills. Maybe she conspired her way to her position? Then again, she didn’t look that smart, either…

  “I’m Fran.” Fran had been openly hostile to every Blue Cat she had ever met, but her encounter with Zehmet changed her. She was giving the girl a chance to convince her she didn’t deserve to be ruthlessly beat up.

  “I know who you are! You’re only here to mock us! What more could you want?!” Not that Selen was going to return the favor.

  “I wanted to give this back.”

  “This is…my brother’s sword! You thief!”

  So much for preserving civility. But…was this Zehmet’s sister? That explained how she got her position.

  “How did a Black Cat like you beat my brother, anyway? It doesn’t make sense!”

  “I’m stronger.”

  “You’re lying! Black Cats are nothing but trash! You couldn’t have beaten my brother in a fair fight! You must’ve cheated!”

  “I didn’t.”

  “I know you did! My brother would never have lost to a Black Cat!”

  Her angry stomping made her look even more childish than she already was. She really hated the Black Cats. I had a hard time believing that she was related to Zehmet.

  “Look, I don’t know what dirty trick you pulled, but give him your spot in the second round and I’ll forgive you!” she said, sounding like she was doing us a favor.

  Fran narrowed her eyes. “No.” Her mood was worsening with every word. Zehmet’s fool sister was exhausting all the goodwill her brother had built up.

  “Is that supposed to be a joke? Did you not hear what I said? You’re supposed to thank me for forgiving you!”

  Was this girl really his sister? She acted nothing like him. Either way, Fran had decided that she wasn’t worth talking to. She pursed her lips and tossed Selen an ice-cold stare.

  “…”

  “This is the problem with you stupid Black Cats! You don’t know your place!”

  “…”

  “What are you staring at me for? Do you know what’s going to happen if you don’t resign from the tournament?”

  “I don’t.” Fran was furious, but she held back because this girl was Zehmet’s sister. It was admirable, though I didn’t know how much longer she could last.

  “Hmph. You Black Cats are only around because we Blue Cats allow you to exist.”