Unreachable Heights
Eden lifted his head and gazed at the arena's landscape. His own match was tomorrow, so he could watch today's duels from the stands rather than the waiting room.
Watching Ludenberg Lavante effortlessly subdue Evelyn Ansis, Eden felt a profound sense of remoteness. He had thought himself stronger, yet Ludenberg was still forging ahead into the distance. Had Evelyn Ansis truly been a student who could be defeated so feebly? She ranked among the top in Innocence. And yet, she fell without landing a proper blow.
Eden himself couldn't have beaten her that easily. Could he even land a single meaningful strike on the guy this time?
The results of the subsequent duels didn't differ much. Everyone knelt before Ludenberg Lavante's overwhelming prowess. In the end, no one else from his group advanced to the third round.
What could they do? There were no sacred emblems left to steal.
"If only Ludenberg had dueled last, one of us might've made it up... But he went first and snatched Evelyn's emblem, so the rest of us couldn't gather enough."
He heard Mion Altis muttering beside him.
"...If I'd been in that group, I'd have ended up the same."
"That's why it's a good thing. At least the draw favored you."
"...Yeah."
"You can make the third round, right?"
"Thanks to that."
"Still, don't get complacent."
"I won't. Other Innocence students might be one thing, but the seniors aren't pushovers. That said... they're not unbeatable."
"True. Getting too intimidated isn't helpful. I'll trust you."
"Yeah."
Ludenberg Lavante returned the three sacred emblems given to him to Ashytara Solenute and immediately advanced to the third round. The reason he had three was simple: only one emblem could be wagered per duel.
His final opponent, whom he'd defeated, had held two... and in the end, had no choice but to yield one to Ludenberg.
"Good work."
"Yeah."
He nodded to Ashytara and turned back toward the waiting room. With nothing left to do until the third round began, he'd probably head to the stands.
As the Glorious Festival progressed, Ashytara found herself increasingly wishing it would end quickly. Honestly, Ludenberg Lavante's victory was all but assured.
More than him confessing his feelings directly, she cherished the fact that all the negative gazes he'd endured would finally dissolve. Lately, only good things had come his way, so this would be no different.
She was struggling to suppress the grin that kept creeping onto her face.
"I hope this festival wraps up soon."
The moment she'd awaited since Ortara was finally approaching.
But no matter how anticipated, a national event couldn't be rushed. She schooled her expression to solemnity and watched the next duel.
In her eyes, Dalia Retiu—her red hair roughly tied up—shoved her opponent with her shoulder and drove them back with the spear shaft. The foe, helplessly pushed along the shaft, lunged wildly at Dalia's arm... but Dalia exploited her petite frame's agility to dodge effortlessly and buried her axe-spear into their arm.
Crunch!
"Argh!"
In the Glorious Festival, injuries that didn't threaten life required no intervention. Ludenberg Lavante's matches had ended unusually cleanly; this was the norm.
It was a festival of bloodbaths, duels where getting hurt was par for the course.
Ashytara quietly summoned the Mare priests waiting behind the sacred emblems.
"We have an injured student. Looks like it's your turn."
"Just what we hoped for."
As the duel ended, the Mare priests approached the wounded student and channeled divine power. The arm, dangling as if it might fall off, restored to perfect condition in an instant.
Then Dalia approached, holding out her emblems. Three, just like before—a testament to her dominance.
"...Congratulations."
"Thanks."
Despite Ashytara's well-wishes, Dalia met her gaze not with her usual playfulness, but with a serious, solemn expression.
"I don't plan on losing this time."
"Yes. Good luck."
Ashytara was no mere student now, so Dalia addressed her formally. She bowed once, spun her axe-spear, and headed to the waiting room.
Ashytara watched her go, then murmured what she'd forgotten to say.
"It'll be tough, senior. Rude's strong. Still... I hope you both clash with everything you've got."
Dalia probably wanted the same. Ashytara could sense the fierce fighting spirit radiating from the small back retreating to the waiting room.
Day two of the second round. Ludenberg Lavante watched Eden Asta wielding his white sword.
As he'd sensed in the sacred emblem skirmishes, Eden had grown markedly stronger. It seemed due to that white sword... but even setting it aside, his stance was incredibly stable.
Perhaps because he'd abandoned all his schemes lately and focused solely on training. His sword strikes were far sharper than before—nothing to take lightly.
Of course, it didn't feel like he'd lose, but a minimum of caution was essential. Especially that white sword. He didn't know what it was, but it amplified Eden's divine power.
Ludenberg couldn't sense divine power, yet the difference from Eden's recent movements was stark enough to notice easily. Every step was precise, without excess—clear evidence of diligent practice.
But... those efforts wouldn't bloom before him.
He intended to crush Eden thoroughly.
Ludenberg Lavante's eyes cooled to ice.
"Ludenberg."
A voice called him then. It was Sione Solenute.
Sitting nearby, she spoke to him.
"...Yes, Crown Princess."
Sione regarded him steadily, then added, "Don't kill him."
She'd read his intent. Ludenberg nodded.
He had no intention of killing Eden.
"Of course not."
He just wanted to gift him a taste of the despair Eden had inflicted. What thoughts would fill Eden's mind upon facing an existence forever out of reach, no matter how desperately he strived?
"What they did can't be justified by any words, so repay it in kind. While he lives."
As a professor, favoring one student might be wrong. But she saw Ludenberg as another brother.
He was the one who'd brought light to her sibling. Schemers like Mion and Eden were unforgivable in her eyes.
Yet she'd let them be. Partly her role as professor... but mostly, revenge was sweetest self-served.
Her golden eyes gleamed.
"Give back only what you received. They must pay for their sins. Childhood mistakes don't get a pass."
"Yes."
"They've mended their ways lately, but that doesn't erase responsibility. If their family complains, I'll handle it. Act freely."
"Why bring it up so suddenly?"
"Better I say it than Duchess Asha stepping in."
"Ah."
"I don't fancy a bloodbath in the palace. Your mother brought it up the moment she arrived. Without this, who'd know what she'd unleash next? Plus... I've never liked those two's antics."
"Aren't you favoring me too much? Not that I mind."
"Favoring a student sits uneasy, but guiding them right is a professor's duty."
"You're the one moving pieces."
"Naturally. I'll give warnings too."
"...Understood."
Their gazes lingered on Eden, handing his emblems to Ashytara after his triumphant victory.
Even after Eden's duel, Ludenberg Lavante continued observing the other students from the stands. He'd vowed no complacency whatsoever.
Excluding Eden, he scrutinized every entrant: their minute habits, weapons, combat styles—burning it all into memory. Matches bred variables at any moment.
In this advantageous position, every extra analysis counted.
When the final duel of day two ended, Ludenberg rose from the stands and looked at Ashytara reigniting her emblems.
It was almost time. His eyes filled with fervent longing.
How much had she given him? When he trusted no one, she'd offered unwavering faith. When he thought none understood, she'd grasped his plight and extended her hand.
She'd rushed to save him from peril, supported him through grueling trials. And finally, bestowed her love.
How to repay it all? He'd agonized.
The answer: win the Glorious Festival.
He had to become worthy of her affection, lest it be diminished.
In that victorious moment, he'd respond to her love. The time had come.
Her bold confession deserved an equally bold reply.
But confession wasn't the end. As they'd walk together henceforth, he yearned to know her more, share more trials.
To return what she'd given him.
Thus... he would win.
Had he ever desired something so fiercely? Even without divine power's awakening, not like this.
For his most burning wish, he'd give his all.
He steadied his rising excitement.
Not yet. Cooler than ever, more thorough than ever.
He resolved to seize victory.