As the Long Winter Passes, Part 6
The week-long duel exam was finally coming to an end today.
Even though it was the final day, a massive crowd swarmed the academy entrance, just as they had on the very first day.
No, because it was the final day, the crowd had grown to a size incomparable to the first.
Only the matches of the strong who had survived the previous rounds—the "real deal"—remained.
And the most prominent among them was, of course, Marc Visus, a freshman who had already earned the moniker "The Pride of Dandelion."
Just as everyone had expected and hoped, he had maintained an undefeated streak leading up to today.
In particular, during yesterday's duel against Yasutora Sado—who had boasted he would "finish it in two minutes"—Marc had defeated him with a single strike, sending roaring cheers echoing through the academy and the surrounding streets.
Today, the crowd's interest shifted to who would face Marc Visus.
On the other hand, no one debated who would actually win the tournament.
After all, it was practically set in stone that the ultimate victor of this duel exam would be Marc Visus.
Since first place was guaranteed, the discussions revolved around who would take second.
"I wonder who will face Marc Visus in the end?"
"Get your phrasing right! It's not about who faces him, it's about who gets to be the last one to lose to him."
"Come on, isn't that basically the same thing?"
"I'm putting my money on Ikkaku Madarame from the East. I kind of like his clean, bald head. Oh, and that weapon of his that splits into multiple sections is pretty cool, too. Too bad it lacks durability and breaks easily."
"Speaking of bald heads, that reminds me of... was his name Doppo Uji? I think it'll be him. He has the biggest build, and that eyepatch on his face is really striking. I especially want to see that strange stance he used to block attacks again."
"Wasn't there also that guy wearing those weird sunglasses and a pink feathered coat? Right! Doflamingo Sancho! The way he fought using magic-infused strings was spectacular. I think he might make it."
As the spectators engaged in this heated debate over who would claim second place, a traveler approached them.
"...Isn't there one more famous person?"
"Huh? Who else are you talking about?"
"Seraphina. Isn't Seraphina Serion quite famous in her own right? From what I know, she made it to the final day as well."
At the traveler's words, the spectators all looked at one another.
Then, they burst into hearty laughter and patted the traveler on the arm.
"Hahaha, oh man. You must have come from some remote village with slow news, huh? To bring up that name in this tournament, of all places."
"Right? I mean, there was a huge fuss earlier this year about the future Sword Saint, Seraphina Serion, entering the academy."
"But isn't she washed up now?"
"Exactly! When Regulus Serion, the strict and prideful head of the Serion family, bypassed her to name Marc Visus—someone who doesn't even share their bloodline—as his successor, that said it all. Well, I suppose it also shows just how strong Marc Visus is."
"Still, it's impressive that she survived this far without losing. I guess a Serion is still a Serion?"
"Something like that. No matter how far she's fallen or how washed up she is, her bloodline still carries some weight, right?"
"Anyway, pal, you think Seraphina Serion might take second place? Ha! Let me explain how things actually stand."
The boisterous spectator thrust forward a sheet of paper he was holding.
It was the tournament bracket for the duel exam, detailing the times and opponents for today's matches.
And it was structured as a tournament bracket where the winners would face off in the final rounds.
"Today's very first match is Marc Visus versus Seraphina Serion. Since she has to face Marc in her first match of the day, there's no way she's getting second place. It's just bad luck, but what can you do?"
"I heard she already got thrashed by Marc several times even before the duel exam. Man, I'm worried she might be too embarrassed to show up and just run away today!"
"Well, that's how it is, pal. If you bet on her name at some gambling den, you better run now! You won't even get your principal back. Hahaha!"
"...I see. Thank you for letting me know."
Leaving behind the spectators who were mocking Seraphina Serion, the traveler walked away.
"I suppose that's the only way they can see it."
I took off the robe enchanted with perception distortion.
It wasn't that I expected highly of the public's opinion, but a small part of me still felt a bitter pang of disappointment.
There was a time when I had been the center of everyone's attention and expectations.
Yet now, I had truly fallen to a point where no one expected anything from me.
The place I walked to was a waiting room of sorts for the students participating in the upcoming matches.
Up until now, Subspace Creation Magic had been used due to the sheer number of participants, but today, the final day of the duel exam, was different.
Since only a handful of students who had won their respective duels remained, the rest of the matches would take place in this colosseum-style arena.
No matter how advanced scrying magic was, it could never compare to watching it with one's own eyes.
At any rate, the day had finally come.
The duel with Marc Visus.
My life would likely be decided based on this day.
Would I become a puppet who merely followed the family's orders, a fate that seemed almost predetermined?
Or would a miracle happen, allowing me to seize control of my own destiny?
Tension, and an even greater anxiety, washed over me.
The negative thought that I might ultimately fail and fail to repay the man who had devoted himself to me resurfaced once again.
In the midst of my spiraling thoughts, a warm, familiar voice reached my ears.
"Seraphina, I knew you'd be here early."
Rofel Teufel.
Covered in bandages and leaning on a crutch, he had somehow found his way to me.
No, what was more important was...
"...! My lord, why have you come here in such a state?!"
My worry for him overrode the joy of seeing him.
Perhaps because his injuries were caused by me, I couldn't help but be deeply concerned about his condition.
"I'm fine. The healer said I could move around starting today, as long as I don't overdo it."
"Even so... would it not be better for your recovery to rest?"
"Maybe. But today of all days, I felt like I had to come on my own two feet. After all, it's the final day of the duel exam, and it might be the most important day of your life."
"...! My lord... does that mean..."
I hesitated for a moment, but I had to ask.
"Rofel, do you... believe I can win today's duel?"
I knew it was pathetic to rely on someone else's opinion instead of believing in myself.
But right now... I desperately wanted to hear his thoughts.
I carefully looked up at his face.
To my surprise, he wore a look of sheer bewilderment.
"Haha... Even you ask silly questions sometimes, Seraphina."
Then, without a word, he gently caressed my cheek.
He ran his hand through my hair, stroking it softly, before pulling me into his embrace.
Finally, leaning in close to my ear, he spoke in a voice that sounded sweet enough to melt me.
"Of course you will, Seraphina. I promise you. You're going to beat Marc today."
It wasn't a mere wish that I would win.
It wasn't a statement of possibility, like saying I could win.
It was a declaration of absolute certainty: I would win.
"...And the basis for that claim?"
"Huh? Oh, well, you see... I don't really know, but I just feel like you will...?"
So it was that answer again.
Seeing him like that, how should I put it?
A soft chuckle escaped my lips, and a gentle smile spread across my face.
I realized that even after everything, he hadn't changed a single bit.
His reaction was both endearing and deeply comforting.
"Thank you, my lord. I feel much of my tension melting away thanks to you."
Heh. Despite all my worrying and trembling with anxiety, meeting Rofel and hearing those final words made all of it feel utterly trivial.
Therefore, I must believe in myself—the self that the man I trust believes in.
Rofel Teufel was guaranteeing my victory.
That fact alone filled me with a strange sense of fulfillment and confidence.
The grand, even extravagant music of the orchestra began to play.
It signaled the start of the duel exam.
Along with the announcer's voice, amplified by magic to a deafening volume, a staff member guided me toward the entrance.
Rofel also released me from his embrace.
"Go on. Give that bastard Marc a good thrashing, and win with pride."
"I shall. My lord."
Yes.
Come to think of it, there was no longer any reason to be lost in idle thoughts.
There was no need to wander in shame and guilt, disappointed in myself for causing trouble for Rofel.
The only thing to focus on now was to repay his faith in me.
To defeat Marc Visus.
And Rofel, of all people, believed in me.
...
Why was it?
Even though I knew I was heading into a reckless battle against a formidable opponent...
Strangely, my steps felt lighter than ever before.