The Ranking Match Penalty
Afterward, Lucia proved a decent enough sparring partner.
I had been curious just how much force to hold back at the student level, so I practiced matching her roughly while watching the way she swung her sword. Since she was the most outstanding first-year at the Imperial Academy, I wanted a proper sense of the standard and even dragged the match out as long as I could.
What had felt awkward at first gradually settled into something workable. I crossed blades with her, and her movements turned out better than expected. Still, there was always going to be a difference in durability between a sword engraved with mana and one that was not. When we met at the same level of force, the blade that shattered was mine.
So I ended it. If the sword had stayed intact I might have taken a little more from her. I even seriously considered just handing her the top rank then and there, but in the end I dropped the idea.
Lucia had been far too full of herself for me to throw the Ranking Match. In the back alleys I would already have killed her. Too many eyes were watching, that was all.
In any case, for the time being the first-year top rank was mine. I had never wanted the seat, yet defeating the strongest contender had locked it in place. The news was not especially welcome, but I hoped the flood of duel requests might ease off a little after this.
A world where nothing existed.
An endless stretch of horizon with no end in sight.
That was where Lucia fell. Even the sense that time was passing grew dull there.
"Hah—huff… Please, please stop…"
In a place draped only in pitch-black darkness, Lucia ran from something. Behind her, a presence with glowing crimson eyes pursued at a measured pace. It was not fast, yet it walked steadily toward her, and the sheer dread of it drove her to flee without end. She had no idea how long she had been running. Even when her legs felt ready to shatter, the same empty landscape was all that met her eyes.
"Kyaa!"
At last her foot caught and she went down—or perhaps her legs simply gave out. And then—
"Lucia."
"Hiiiek!"
The crimson-eyed thing finally reached her and seized her ankle. Up close, the expression that had been invisible from afar became clear: a cold gaze looking down from above, a blank face that bordered on contempt, as if regarding something worthless.
Instinct told her at once. This was not a human like herself. It was something alien, something other.
Iria asked her quietly,
"Why did you do it?"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Iria… I was wrong, so please…"
"I am not asking for an apology. I want the reason. Why did you do it?"
And so the time of confession began. Iria simply stood and waited while Lucia, trembling all over in terror, tried to shrink away. Yet Lucia knew the truth as well. This was a dream Iria had locked her inside. There was no escaping her. And if Iria chose not to release her, she would never leave.
So Lucia lowered her head at Iria's feet. Only then did the pleas and admissions begin to spill out.
"I—I was jealous of you. Hic… You sat in the top seat and still wore that empty look, and it just pissed me off… So I did it."
"…"
"You got under my skin… Everyone aims for that place, and you sat there acting like it didn't even matter…"
At the Imperial Academy the value of the top rank was far higher than Iria herself seemed to understand. In a gathering of prodigies it was an honor won only by crushing formidable rivals. Yet Iria treated the position as if it were nothing, almost scorning it while everyone else burned for it. Some had swung their swords until their bones wore thin just to reach that seat. Lucia had poured blood and sweat into cultivating mana since childhood, and watching Iria dismiss it all felt like a denial of everything she had built.
"Not everyone is a—hic—emotionless doll like you…"
Every human wants recognition—for their talent, their effort, the life they have stacked up. Lucia was no different. She had wanted to claim the top rank with her own strength and be acknowledged for it. Not everyone was ice like Iria. Looking at those better than oneself and feeling envy, resentment—that was human. Imperfection was what made one human.
And so the emotion Lucia felt toward the non-human Iria was something Iria would never understand in a lifetime: a thoroughly realistic, bitter resentment directed upward. That had been the cause. Lucia poured only the most honest feelings into words. The water she had thrown, the insults she had spat—all of it had sprung from jealousy. Admitting it had taken a long time. Only after losing to Iria on the dueling ground and running without rest through an unending dream did she finally get the chance to look back at herself.
The dream Iria had sealed her in made a single moment feel like eternity. She had no idea how much real time had passed, but subjectively she had already been trapped for days. In the final scene of the dream Lucia emptied everything out of herself, and only then was she allowed to return to reality.
It had been a long dream.
Anyone who failed a Ranking Match challenge had to grant the winner one demand. In truth the demand was rarely anything extreme; because it took place inside the academy, it only gained force after the supervising professor approved it. Anything too excessive was usually cut off at the faculty level.
The Ranking Match culture itself dated back roughly half a century, to the era when the Demon King still dominated the continent. Back then the prevailing view had been to raise students as strong as possible. Now that the Demon King was dead and a temporary peace had settled, the practice had lost much of its old weight—a painful remnant of wartime that had grown relatively light. Even so, a loser was still a loser. Lucia came to meet Iria with heavy steps.
"…"
"…"
Iria said nothing for a while. Something about the way Lucia faced her was off. She was trembling as if terrified, fidgeting, unable to meet Iria's eyes.
What kind of dream did she even have?
Iria scratched her cheek at the baffling attitude. She had locked Lucia inside a dream, yes, but she had not controlled its contents. It was only a space shaped by Lucia's own imagination and unconscious. Curious about what she had seen, Iria considered peeking at the memories, yet without eye contact she could not.
Not that it particularly mattered.
"So what can you give me?"
Iria asked the girl who had come to her. After the confession came the settling of accounts. At that point she still did not think it would be difficult. Lucia was the second daughter of a noble house; something material ought to suffice.
"Money…"
"I already have plenty."
"Then a magic tool or something…?"
"I have no mana."
"Is there anything you want…?"
"How would I know that?"
"…?"
"What."
The conversation refused to flow smoothly. Iria simply had no greed for money. She accepted it when necessary, but right now her pockets were overflowing. She considered for a moment. An opportunity like this should not be wasted.
"Hmm."
The deliberation did not last long. Something suitable had already come to mind. Since she wanted nothing in particular, she decided on a small revenge for the earlier humiliation—enough to make the other side feel, in her own body, just how unpleasant it was to be on the receiving end.
Iria sat in a convenient spot, removed one shoe and sock, then lifted her bare foot and dangled it lazily in front of Lucia.
The composition looked familiar, only with the positions reversed. Just like before, plenty of eyes were watching. Iria was purely curious whether the proud Lucia would actually kneel in front of them. There was no real malice in it.
Lucia's face looked ready to cry. As the loser she could not refuse the demand.
"At least the place…"
"Do it here."
"Hic…"
As expected, Lucia hesitated on the spot, acutely aware of the onlookers. Observing that reaction from the position of the one inflicting it was rather exhilarating.
In the end Lucia slowly sank to her knees before Iria. She lowered her posture until her eyes were level with the other girl's legs, then lifted Iria's pale bare foot. Even with time given, she could not bring herself to carry out the order. Both hands clutched the small foot while her body shook.
"Hic, huff…"
It was probably the first humiliation of this kind she had ever tasted. A faint sheen of moisture gathered in her eyes. Iria spoke coldly, showing no intention of letting her off.
"Hurry up. Do you want another nightmare?"
"…"
Resigned, Lucia pressed her lips to the long, extended foot. Unsure how long would satisfy, she even tried licking with her tongue. Perhaps her attitude still lacked enthusiasm. Iria simply pushed her toes into Lucia's mouth.
"Mmph! Mmmph!"
The reaction was more entertaining than expected.
It was the afternoon of the day the duel had ended.