A Victory of Wounds Alone

As the commentators said, Evan had to pinpoint Lerven from the two rapidly moving figures as quickly as possible.

In that urgent situation, Evan decided to trust her instincts over rational judgment. Whether it was because the original owner of her body was Triam Academy's protagonist, or because her hidden talent had blossomed, her senses were remarkably accurate and sharp. Even against Lerven, who lied as smoothly as flowing water, her gut had consistently pierced through his deceptions.

Thwack! And so, Evan charged straight ahead. As she ran, she constantly checked which direction her instincts pointed toward among the two options.

But the direction her instincts indicated felt a bit off.

'Neither one...?'

Two moving objects splitting to either side in her field of vision. Her instincts were telling her neither was Lerven.

If that was true—if her instincts were right—then where the hell was the real Lerven?

Her gut answered that question immediately.

'Straight ahead. About 3 meters.'

Lerven was definitely right in front of her, where there was clearly nothing. It was information she could hardly believe.

In a situation like this, betting on instincts that might or might not be right could mean defeat...

'...Come to think of it, win or lose doesn't really matter.'

Ever since Lerven had smashed her side with his mace, Evan had been feverish with excitement. But the moment that thought crossed her mind, she calmed down in an instant.

This duel wasn't about who won or lost—it was more important to show the spectators watching that the two of them were fighting in earnest.

So there was no need to obsess over victory from the start.

Crunch.

That realization cleanly swept ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠away her hesitation.

If losing or winning didn't matter, why not use this chance to test her instincts?

If she charged straight ahead and Lerven was there, her gut was reliable going forward. If not, she could reassess its accuracy. Simple as that.

"Here I go!"

Evan fixed her gaze dead ahead and poured strength into the toes of her planted foot. She coiled her body like a spring, then unleashed all that power in one explosive burst.

Boom!

The released force propelled her body forward in an explosion. Like an arrow loosed from a bow, at a speed that far outpaced anyone's reflexes.

"Ngh...!"

Evan leaped and seized Lerven just like that.

"Got you at last!"

Her instincts were spot on. From the feel of what she'd collided with and the brief gasp that escaped in that instant, Evan was certain it was Lerven.

And with that certainty, she maintained her leaping momentum, shattered Lerven's balance, and flipped him backward onto the ground.

Thud!

A heavy impact reverberated through the arena floor. Dust rose lightly once more, and the figure that had kicked it up slowly revealed itself.

"...You must've been pretty good at hide-and-seek as a kid, huh?"

Lerven slowly revealed his true form, as if drawing back the curtain that had concealed him. It was the Reverse Hermit card's Transparency effect; the invisibility had ended the moment Evan made contact, exposing him.

"This isn't hide-and-seek—it's a vicious nonsense riddle, isn't it...?"

"Not wrong, but transparency's still hiding, right?"

He'd never intended to stake the win or loss on breaking through the dust with those two choices from the start.

He knew victory didn't matter in this fight, but he had no desire to lose for that reason alone. That was why he'd gone so far as to ditch his weapons and shield to sow confusion in Evan.

"But now that I've caught you, the seeker's the winner."

Yet Evan's instincts had pierced even Lerven's tricks clean through. In the end, he'd been caught by her without weapons or shield.

Evan's knee pinned both his shoulders, her fist already aimed at his face. Victory clearly tilted toward her—no one could deny it.

"Go, Evan!"

"Beat him so bad he can't even set foot in the academy!!!"

The spectators cheered her advantage, egging her on to finish Lerven.

"Hm... maybe."

In that moment, Lerven showed no frustration or resignation.

The instant Evan sensed something ominous, her instincts rang another alarm.

"But like I said first, we're not actually playing hide-and-seek here, right?"

Lerven hadn't given up yet. His eyes shifted to one side, toward the hand below his pinned left shoulder.

"Draw."

"...!"

"If it was an unknown skill, you should've knocked me out in one go."

Fwoosh!

A localized burst of miraculous light flashed briefly, and a card gleaming pale blue appeared in Lerven's left hand. The moment it materialized, he flicked his wrist—as if to hurl it at Evan.

Whoosh!

To stop him, Evan skipped thinking and moved on instinct, leaning to grab his wrist.

And that was her fatal mistake.

Swish—crack!

From the opposite direction she'd leaned, the mace flew in and smashed her side.

"...?!"

With her balance already tipped, the impact inevitably toppled her off Lerven.

Seizing that opening, Lerven shoved her fully aside and rose from his fallen position.

While Evan, Reddin, and the crowd gaped in shock and confusion at the mace's sudden origin, Lime—who'd been watching Lerven with wide eyes—realized and shouted it out.

The rope tied to Lerven's wrist was the very one Evan had used to bind him after knocking him out. Just before he'd woken and entered the arena, he'd prepared for any contingency by tearing a length with a knot still intact from the discarded ropes and hiding it inside his shirt.

"Talk about close... How many tricks did I even use? Nearly lost there."

Lerven brushed the arena dust from his clothes, retrieved the mace tied to the rope, and looked down at Evan staggering to her feet. Wariness gleamed in his eyes toward the girl who'd pierced his schemes with raw instinct and nearly defeated him.

In contrast, awe shone in Evan's eyes for the boy who'd layered so many contingencies ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that even seeing through one wasn't enough to shake him.

Their gazes met as Evan fully stood—wary caution and reverent awe exchanging in a wordless conversation.

Swish. After that brief exchange, Evan raised her arm.

Not in fighting stance, but vulnerably high. Every eye except Lerven's locked onto her under that heavy pressure.

And then, bearing it all, Evan dropped a bombshell.

"I forfeit."

A single phrase that rocked the entire Colosseum in shock.

*

"Ugh, what's with that guy's lungs?"

I ignored the blaring voice from the commentary booth and spoke to Evan.

"You cool ending it like this? Not exactly a clean finish, I think."

"They'll buy it at this point. And if we'd kept going, I'd have lost for sure. Right?"

Evan didn't seem hung up on her forfeit. She glanced back and forth between the mace and card in my hand, convinced of her defeat.

"...Yeah, probably."

I skimmed the card's info and nodded reluctantly. No need to correct her generous assessment.

"Then we're good. I'll head out ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠first. See you around, Lerven."

Evan finished her goodbye, grabbed her shoes and socks, and headed for the Colosseum exit. She seemed to walk away slowly, then turned back once more, as if remembering something, meeting my eyes again.

"Oh, and I'm really sorry about today. I hope the day comes when others see you're not a bad guy too."

With those parting words of comfort, she fully left the Colosseum.

"...Pfft."

Standing still in the echoing roar of the arena, I mulled over her words for a while before chuckling.

Her calling me 'not a bad guy' after just one look and one fight. It was so pure it almost felt naive—and that made it funny.

"If she thinks that highly of me, guess I should try to live up to it."

Pondering ways to keep that high opinion, I headed down the same passage she'd taken out. Hoping at least today's events would soften my bad rep a bit.

**

"Lerven! Rumor has it you brutally beat up a defenseless unarmed girl—true?"

And that's how I learned the news that I'd unilaterally and mercilessly assaulted Evan—a bit later on.