Lost. Pathetically Lost.
I lost. Pathetically lost. The throbbing pain in my body was clear proof of my defeat. It was a bone-deep ache. I thought I might land at least one hit, but I couldn't do a thing. My skills had definitely improved. I knew I'd grown stronger than before—stronger than I could even compare to my past self. And yet, I still couldn't reach him. Why do I keep losing? I knew the reason. Lack of talent. Lack of effort. There was a whole five-year gap between us. While I was spreading negative rumors about Ludenberg Lavante and slacking on my training, that guy had spent those five years purely honing his skills. Without ever turning his eyes away from it. Wasn't this outcome just the result of that difference?
The sense of superiority from being chosen by three gods, the arrogance that stemmed from it. Jealousy toward his genius. Getting lost in all that... had led to this moment. A hollow laugh escaped me. In the end, I'd thrown away my own five years. If I'd just given my all to the talent I was given instead of wasting time on petty schemes, I might have reached him at least once. While I was standing still, he kept marching ahead. Drowning in self-loathing, I could only stare blankly at the sky.
Would there be a next time? I didn't know. Couldn't know. But one thing was certain: it wasn't over yet.
"Next time... I will."
Mion Altis's voice came from beside me. It was laced with indignation. But... I could sense the resolve in it. I knew that when my fiancée spoke like that, she always followed through. Yeah. It wasn't over. What came next was up to me.
"Yeah."
I opened my mouth. A choked voice slipped through my gritted teeth.
"Next time... I will."
Gathering the cheers for the victor and the pitying glances for the loser within me, I gently closed my eyes. I was utterly exhausted.
Ludenberg Lavante and Ashytara Solenute left the arena with somewhat lighter steps.
"You did great."
"Don't need to watch the next match?"
"Dalia and Seia are up. No need to bother. It'll probably end pretty anticlimactically."
"Yeah, probably."
The skills of those two that Ludenberg and Ashytara had witnessed were the real deal. And even then, they hadn't gone all out.
"If Dalia and Seia win their quarterfinals, and Eil and this Illiana Nadiel win theirs... we'll face off in the semis."
"No clue who would win."
Ashytara shook her head, and Ludenberg nodded in agreement.
"True. We haven't seen their full strength yet... so we won't get a real read on those two groups from these quarterfinals. Not many powerhouses made it up here anyway."
"Yeah."
"We'll probably learn everything in the semis."
"Semis won't be easy for us either."
"Right. Eve Arcadia and Meia Andem."
"Crowd's pegging them as top contenders for the win. What do you think?"
"We can beat them."
"...You sure?"
"They'll probably stick to the same strategy as before. Pour saint laws into Meia to buff her up strong."
"...Yeah."
"While Meia's holding the front, Eve will lob restraining saint laws at us. Her style's straightforward. But that straightforwardness makes it overwhelmingly powerful. The other teams fell to it for good reason."
"True. Consistently winning the same way means they're that strong—and they've probably got hidden tricks too."
Ludenberg nodded.
"First hurdle's getting past Meia with Eve's support. Or... maybe bypass her and target Eve first."
"Eve didn't seem great up close."
"Can't assume. If she suddenly pulls out close-quarters skills, we're screwed. Gotta prepare for all possibilities."
"Yeah."
"Someone's gotta pin Meia down... Think you could handle that, Tara?"
"Me?"
"Yeah. If Eve keeps her distance with saint laws, it could get dicey. I'd be better chasing her down for sure."
"Mm... Got it."
Ashytara could counter with her own saint laws, but... Eve's mastery outclassed hers by far. It might just hand Eve openings. If Eve got free rein, things could go south fast. Plus, Ashytara's greatsword style synergized better against heavy hitters anyway—no need for her to chase Eve.
Realizing that, Ashytara nodded. Seeing it, Ludenberg nodded back and spoke.
"Keep it simple for now. Adapt to the situation on the fly. We don't know enough yet."
"Got it. Anyway, that's that... You got nothing else after this, right?"
"Huh? Yeah. Was gonna train."
"Skip it today. Rest a bit? We've been scarfing quick meals and grinding nonstop."
At her words, Ludenberg reflected on his actions since the exhibition matches began. He'd dragged Ashytara around, training relentlessly. The semis were still days away—three days' rest after all quarterfinals wrapped. Today couldn't hurt for a break.
Ludenberg nodded.
"Sure."
Ashytara grabbed his hand and pulled.
"Where to?"
His question got a reply.
"Heard there's a good spot nearby."
"From who?"
"Cletta."
"When'd you ask?"
"Ran into her near the dorms yesterday."
"Guess the others are out having fun by now."
"Yep. We're in semis, so training trance. Everyone else is at the festival."
As they walked, Ludenberg spoke, and Ashytara nodded.
"Festival, huh... We've had a ton lately, haven't we? Founding Festival, Adem Festa, now this."
"Not thrilled thinking about the backlog later... but the others love it. They're playing now."
"Solemnute Adem's gonna be a nightmare when we get back."
"Professors are half-giving up already."
"...Even them?"
"Sione said so. This semester, just cover what we can. Next term, professors and students alike are doomed... Especially Professor Calvin—face all pale."
"He grades every assignment personally. Makes sense."
"Ugh..."
Ashytara shuddered like she hated the thought.
"What's up?"
"Just... dizzy thinking about the assignments piling up."
"You always pull through."
"The mental load's killer. Can't relax. I do them right away, but too many... ugh."
"Fair."
Ludenberg nodded in sympathy.
"Lud, you don't get it at all, do you?"
But to Ashytara, it looked fake. Ludenberg blasted through assignments faster than she could dream.
She'd seen him midterms prep—shook her head.
"What? No, I hate piles too."
"Sure, like when you laughed off that Erosion Studies one?"
"...Did I?"
"You did! I slaved three days. You prepped for eval and finished in three hours!"
The memory burned fresh. Her three-day ordeal versus his casual three-hour blitz while prepping—shocking focus. Smiling, no breaks. Near-miraculous.
"That? I'm good at Erosion Studies. History took longer. Theology? You helped me."
"One Solem passage. You finished the rest faster."
Honestly, she envied him. Good at everything—tone it down.
"Uh, yeah... Next time, I'll help."
His casual vibe deflated her.
"Not asking for help."
"Then?"
"Just... jealous."
Jealous of his all-out diligence. Three hours locked in on a brain-melter? Superhuman.
She craved his focus. But his puzzled face hit her—what nonsense was that?
'Idiot. What are you saying?'
Hard-won dinner date. Ruining the mood over nothing. Mortified, face burning. Whining to him of all people. What'd he think? Prayed no disappointment in his ambiguous look.
Unlike her worry, Ludenberg just gazed anew.
'Tara's been more casual with me lately...'
Her admitting envy used to be common. Back when he learned swordplay first from his father—same reaction. Less since she saw him as... more.
"Feels like old times."
He muttered unwittingly. Face aflame, Ashytara looked up.
"What?"
Grinning mischievously, Ludenberg teased.
"You saying you're jealous of me—straight outta the past. Remember? Dad teaching swordplay, you sulking in your room 'cause I learned first. Cried your eyes out. Took forever to cheer you up."
His old story dredged it up—not the touching one she'd spun, but her embarrassing sulk. Jealous tears, pouting. She shrieked.
Even for a crush, airing ugly history pissed her off. This was it.
"Aaaah! Hey!"
Furious yell—he dodged, pulling distance fast. Too fast to catch.
"Whoa, haven't seen you this mad in ages."
"Stand still! Hey!"
Faint voice trailed. Determined to nab him, she bolted. Dinner flickered in mind—but evening. Time to punish the cad who aired her shame.
...Naturally, Ludenberg let her catch him. Took a few solid knuckle-thumps to the head, clutched it meekly, and let her drag him till dinner.