Maid Meets Girl - 2
The Golden Festival.
Once a year, a festival of duels that made no distinction of discipline—martial arts, magic, the arts, cuisine, anything at all.
That sounds grand, but put simply: it was just the Olympics, held every year.
Unlike the real Olympics, which produced a parade of sporting legends with G.O.A.T. status, this one only fielded promising seedlings. Strictly speaking, it was closer to a Youth Olympics.
There was no written rule that said, true powerhouses are not allowed to enter, but unspoken rules and manners exist everywhere.
Just because the school code doesn’t say “do not walk around naked on campus” doesn’t mean some lunatic is going to stroll around in the nude. It’s common sense, so they never bothered writing it down.
That didn’t mean the Golden Festival’s prestige was low.
It was run directly by a ducal house and sponsored by the Empire itself. Naturally, scouts from every organization flooded into Preas, making it the best stage a young talent could ask for to make a name.
Besides, the railway had only just begun to be laid, so the Festival’s standing was still relatively modest. Once the rails were properly in place and travel stopped being a nightmare—by the time of the main story—the Golden Festival’s prestige would swell to something truly enormous. There was a reason they could eventually host the Grand Arena, a tournament for genuine powerhouses.
For now, though, it was still only about the level of a Youth Olympics.
And it was common sense that a junior athlete at a Youth Olympics could not beat a finished adult competitor.
Occasionally monsters appeared who ignored common sense entirely, but when I checked the entrants for this Golden Festival, no one of that caliber was present.
Among the four members of Yeoro summoned for this mission—including me—none of us would be tripped up by mere seedlings.
If the Leonhart knight order or the family head himself intervened, that would be another story. But that was exactly why Dante had been dispatched, wasn’t it?
Judging by his everyday behavior you wouldn’t believe it, but Dante was one of the absolute top-tier powerhouses in this world’s hierarchy. The Leonhart head was also known as a master who had reached a true realm—but I couldn’t picture Dante losing to an old man long past his prime.
In reality, a single person cannot change a battlefield.
In subculture, though, one person changing a battlefield was common sense—and Dante belonged precisely to that category of person.
When it had been only me, B, and V, the mission’s success rate had been abysmal. The moment Dante joined, the odds shot up for exactly that reason.
For someone who had wanted a natural failure, that wasn’t great news. Still, at least we weren’t going to die. That was something.
Hero Festival! Round of Sixteen, Group A, Match Two—beginning now!
The commentator’s booming voice rolled down from above.
Right on its heels came the endless roar of the crowd.
The Hero Festival was the kind of event that put the discipline first in the name, the way you might say “Martial Golden Festival” or “Magic Golden Festival.” Each branch of the Golden Festival could also be called simply by tacking “Festival” onto the discipline—Martial Festival, Magic Festival, and so on.
The event underway right now was the Hero Festival.
Martial skill, arms, magic—none of it mattered. The only goal was to find the greatest hero of all. If this were the Olympics, it would be the triathlon.
Naturally it was the most popular event of the entire Golden Festival, and the largest share of security forces was committed to keeping it safe.
But sending forces outward meant the interior grew thinner.
Just as a caterpillar that pierces a fruit’s hard rind can reach the seed in no time, if we could break through the outer cordon and slip inside, we would reach the Dandelion almost at once.
Ahhh! Once again, competitor Alexandros seizes victory with a single blow!
Alexandros was the alias Dante was using in the Hero Festival.
The real Alexandros had been knocked cold by Dante himself and was, I was told, currently tied up in some cabin. I had wondered why he’d picked that particular man—until I saw the six-letter name written out as Alexandros. The reason was obvious.
He’d chosen the guy because the name sounded cool. Of course.
Ugh. How did I end up in this asylum?
If I was going to get possessed into a nobody’s body, I wish it had been before joining Yeoro instead of after. Then I wouldn’t have had to walk on eggshells trying to get out of Yeoro…
A normal person stuck among lunatics can only suffer.
Right, Bokja?
Jjoong!
In her shadow form, Bokja nodded at my question.
What a precious child.
The Golden Festival was a vast proving ground for discovering the Empire’s talent.
Because of that, it drew sponsorship not only from the Imperial capital but from various magic towers and knight orders as well, and its scale only kept growing year after year.
Factor in the joint project the capital intended to push within a few years, and both the Golden Festival and Preas itself would see their prestige multiply several times over.
One reason established masters and powerhouses of true realms never entered the Golden Festival was to leave room for discovering new sprouts—but the inconvenience of travel was another.
How long did it take just to move from one territory to another? Who was going to cross that kind of distance for a festival that happened once a year?
People strong enough to have reached a true realm were usually either occupying key posts or buried in training. None of them were going to waste time attending the Golden Festival for fun.
So the Emperor had been the first to float the idea to Lucius.
The railway that had only just begun trial runs. Link a line from the capital all the way to Preas and erase the travel problem. Then wouldn’t the powerhouses of the entire nation pour into Preas?
At first glance it looked like a deal that only benefited House Leonhart.
Look closer, though, and the Imperial House stood to gain enormously as well.
Technology that races ahead of its age always breeds backlash. Suspicion and resistance toward trains and railways had already seeped among the nobles.
If, in that climate, the Duke of Leonhart took the lead on the railway project, other nobles would climb aboard. Leonhart’s involvement alone would accelerate commercial rail by years at minimum.
Moreover, the railway would operate under the capital’s name. If the Golden Festival grew into a massive festival that leveraged the rails, huge sums would flow not only into Preas but into the capital itself.
And if the Golden Festival could be used as a promotional vehicle to expand the railway project in earnest, the Empire’s economy and military strength would both swell.
If the railway succeeded, both Leonhart and the Imperial House would reap enormous profit.
If it failed, both would take heavy damage—but Lucius never believed the railway project would fail.
Fail? Under that Emperor?
House Leonhart had served the Emperor with absolute loyalty for generations. Lucius knew the Emperor’s abilities better than anyone.
A project that Emperor has poured this much time into cannot fail.
Having reached that conclusion, Lucius immediately poured a vast sum into the Emperor’s railway venture—so much that even the Emperor who had proposed the deal was startled.
But handing over that money was also a gain for House Leonhart.
If the railway succeeded, Leonhart’s stature would grow even larger. And the Emperor would never simply leave a swollen Leonhart alone. Even a loyal house becomes a threat once it grows too big. He would apply pressure by various means.
So the money given to the Emperor was both an investment and a bribe that said: House Leonhart is this loyal to you.
Beyond that, once the railway was fully underway, a portion of the revenue earned during the Golden Festival period would also be sent to the Imperial House under the name of tax.
Stand above the other ducal houses—but never become untouchably dominant. Walk the razor’s edge without ever crossing the line.
Lucius rode that middle line so well it would have astonished a clown. It was the experience and ability of seventy years of life. Without that sense of the room and that ability to read crisis, he could never have raised House Leonhart this far.
And right now, Lucius’s crisis sense was ringing the alarm.
Ahhh! Once again, competitor Alexandros seizes victory with a single blow!
That one. Something about him was off.
The appearance of a new powerhouse at the Golden Festival was always welcome. But this man’s strength had crossed a line.
Alexandros. A name he had never heard.
How could someone this strong still be unknown? Dropping an opponent in a single stroke required a gap in class more overwhelming than most people imagined. Why would a human of that caliber enter the Golden Festival?
Quiet training until now, and only now stepping out to make a name?
Even he thought that was nonsense. Anyone with that kind of power who wanted fame should have run straight onto a real battlefield, not the Golden Festival.
Just what the hell is this bastard?
The Golden Festival was one of the Empire’s five great festivals, run by House Leonhart.
As the house’s heir, Noir was obligated to attend. She sat beside Lucius, quietly watching the competitor named Alexandros.
Something’s wrong.
Noir was no ordinary twelve-year-old. She had been born with the greatest talent on the continent—greater even than Lucius’s. Of course she, too, sensed something wrong while watching Alexandros.
Something… something feels uneasy.
What was strange, and what was making her uneasy?
Unlike Lucius, Noir had not yet lived through the experiences that would temper her senses to a razor’s edge. She felt that something was off and that something was wrong, but she herself did not know why the feeling had come.
“Ahh! And so once again competitor Alexandros claims victory—”
Kang!
The spectator stands of the Golden Festival were, of course, protected by a powerful barrier. Mages from the magic towers had been hired at great expense to raise it; it was meant to deflect ordinary impacts and keep the audience safe.
“This is…!”
And now that barrier was cracking under a single man’s sword stroke.
In the sudden chaos, no one moved except Lucius.
Kang!
“Kyaaaaaah!”
“The competitor—he’s gone mad!”
A second blade of sword-ki smashed into the barrier and sent fragments flying. Only as the barrier shielding the stands began to break did people finally grasp how serious the situation was.
No one had expected a competitor to do this. The stands erupted into total panic. Knights tried to calm the crowd, but no one was listening.
“Kh!”
They charged him belatedly, trying to stop him—only to be overpowered in reverse by Alexandros.
Kang!
Kang!
Kang!
Under his relentless sword-ki the barrier finally collapsed. Amid the swirling shards of broken barrier, Lucius’s form launched forward.
Kung!
He landed in the arena with a boom like a cannon shot.
“What do you think you’re doing.”
The moment he touched down he leveled the greatsword that had been strapped across his back at Alexandros.
Their eyes locked. The murderous pressure both men radiated began to coil through the arena.
“Your Grace!”
“The knight order will evacuate the people at once and seal the arena.”
“Understood!”
Lucius’s judgment was swift and precise. This was not an opponent you could overwhelm with numbers. Leaving knights here merely to pin Alexandros would be the inferior move. At present there was no way to know whether this was Alexandros’s solo rampage or whether he had allies prepared to do the same elsewhere. Better, then, for Lucius alone to hold Alexandros while the rest of the knights prioritized the safety of the people.
“I will treat what you have just done as an act of terror against Preas.”
Nobody’s shadow arts looked all-purpose on the surface, but they were a long way from true versatility.
Not “jack of all trades, master of none,” exactly—more like “jack of all trades, master of… vaguely okay.”
For one thing, a manifested Bokja could not leave my side. For another, when Bokja swallowed objects other than me, they could not contain mana. Even when she swallowed me, the time I could stay hidden inside the shadow was less than a single second, and the technique for slipping from shadow to shadow came with hard limits on both distance and number of uses.
With that many restrictions, shadow arts often ended up neither-here-nor-there in any fight that wasn’t pure assassination.
In some games an assassin could slap on tank gear and still win one-on-ones against tanks, warriors, and DPS alike. Shadow arts, by contrast, were genuinely specialized for assassination alone.
Even last year’s match against U—if U hadn’t stubbornly insisted on pure muscle and had simply wrapped his body in mana, I would have lost in a complete rout. Thinking about it still made me want to laugh. Why had he been so obsessed with a pure physique? Wasting time on mere muscles… I couldn’t understand it. That same time spent deepening maid studies and faith in the Maid Church would have been far more profitable.
Even so, I was fairly satisfied with the shadow arts. Unsuited to open combat, yes—but extremely efficient everywhere else.
Just imagining how I could use this ability while doing maid work was enough to keep a smile on my face.
When my master was tired, I could shape a chair from shadow for her to sit on. When she was taking tea in the garden, I could spread a shadow canopy to block the sun. And if I had Bokja swallow the ingredients ahead of time, I could even serve a full banquet outdoors.
An ability that could answer any situation with the perfect response… truly magnificent♥
Watching Bokja diligently lick my cheek only reinforced the conviction that Nobody becoming a maid was destiny.
“It’s started.”
“Let’s go.”
And even now, the many applications of shadow arts were proving enormously useful.
Bokja could not swallow anything that contained mana. And every living creature, humans included, generated mana within its body. That meant the convenient trick of hiding B and V inside Bokja’s mouth and moving that way was impossible.
Still, spreading Bokja wide and wrapping the three of us in a vast shadow was perfectly doable. In a dark enough place, simply unfolding the shadow made us look like empty space unless someone came right up to us.
Thud. Thud.
Footsteps of the knight order approached from the opposite direction. The three of us immediately flattened against the wall; Bokja spread herself wide and veiled us in shadow.
Once again the knights passed without noticing us.
Every time we slipped lightly past a squad like that, B and V stared at me and Bokja as if they had witnessed something miraculous. I, however, was far from satisfied with the situation.
To have to use an ability like this for mere petty theft…
This was power that ought to be used for magnificent things—like shielding my master from the summer heat with shadow…!