Sparring the Protagonist
Eventually, my growth was put to the test in a duel against the protagonist. No convenient plot twists happened—no sudden natural disaster, no substitute class because the sparring teacher was away on a trip. Layered, facing me, touched the hilt of his wooden sword and said,
"Come at me with everything you've got."
"That's the plan."
From the start, I had no choice but to go all out. If I held back even a little, it'd show, and this guy would kick up a fuss. So I had no option but to fight seriously. Win or lose, there was nothing good in it for me.
Nothing to be done about it. As the Goddess said, I'd treat it as a chance to check my skills. It was true that my magic had grown much stronger after absorbing that power. If things went well, I might even win more easily than expected.
"Both ready?"
"Yes."
"Yes."
"Begin."
Beep! The duel started with the teacher's whistle.
First came the probing phase. Unlike last time, the protagonist was playing it cautious, watching for an opening. That left me no choice but to strike first. I hurled a basic fireball spell at him—not a finisher, just a light jab to test his reaction.
"Huh?"
What the— Why was the fireball that big and fast?
"Ugh...!"
The protagonist looked just as shocked, his eyes widening as he stared down the spell before kicking off the ground and barely dodging.
"Hoo."
Even the teacher, who'd been silently officiating all this time, let out a small sound of admiration. No, I knew I'd gotten stronger, but this strong? Compared to just a few days ago, it was a huge leap.
Hehe. Didn't I tell you so?
I had no idea it'd be this much...
Should I be happy about this? All the class kids were staring at me like I was some kind of dark horse.
"As expected."
Hey, what do you mean "as expected"? Misunderstanding. Last time was my all.
As the needless misconceptions deepened, Layered charged at me this time. It was just a wooden sword, but it felt like the edge was gleaming coldly. Come to think of it, wasn't using a sword in a magic duel kinda cheating?
Slash.
I hastily pulled back from the menacing horizontal swing. At the same time, I thrust my hand forward and cast a spell. Three razor-sharp wind blades flew at him simultaneously.
Clang! Clang!
He deflected two with his sword, but the third grazed him. The blade sliced through his uniform and left a shallow cut on his shoulder.
My first effective hit.
"Ending it here?"
"No. Let's continue."
"Understood. Proceed."
Hold up. Why not ask my opinion? Ignoring me, the two of them conspired, and the duel went on.
"Hup."
The protagonist took a deep breath, steadying himself. I could feel his mana vibrating. This was where the real fight began.
Whoosh!
His movement was on another level from before. I instinctively knew I couldn't dodge, so I thought up another counter.
Slash!
I let the blindingly fast downward strike hit me—or pretended to. As my afterimage faded, I repositioned behind him and whipped my rope.
"Not gonna work. I fell for it last time."
"...Impressive."
But last time it didn't work the same way, if I recall. Layered spoke like he was determined not to repeat his past mistake.
But he wouldn't have seen this coming. The rope, seemingly blocked by his sword, suddenly writhed on its own and struck from behind.
"What!?"
It coiled around his neck like a whip, squeezing tight. Looked like my win this time.
"Guh...!"
Writhing in pain from the choke, the protagonist glared at me with fierce eyes. Then he dropped his sword to the ground and tore at the rope with both hands.
...Huh?
Was that for real? No way the rope could rip that easily.
I stared in awe at the shocking scene. Honestly, I'd gotten cocky mid-duel, drunk on my growth, assuming victory was mine. But the protagonist's cheat-level talent set me straight.
Layered ripped free and escaped the hold on his own. At this point, I had to concede.
"I surrender. You win."
"Mm. Duel over. Winner: Layered."
"...What? The match isn't over yet!"
His throat must've taken a real beating; his voice was hoarse as he protested.
"Layered. Accept the outcome."
Odd thing to say to the winner, but the teacher held him back.
"But...!"
"Your opponent surrendered after judging they couldn't win. Do you think ignoring their decision is proper dueling etiquette?"
"......"
Well said! As expected of an educator. Layered seemed convinced, nodding quietly in acceptance.
The duel ended, and as we returned to our seats, I felt the class's eyes on us.
"Ooh, nerd. You're sneakily tough, huh?"
"What're you talking about? You'd think I'd won."
"Fair. Who could've guessed he'd break that choke? Sword boy's the freak here."
For once, I agreed with Rachel. Still, I'd given it my all and lost, so Layered should be satisfied, right? The ending felt off, but it'd probably be fine.
Speak of the devil—he came stomping over. His expression looked kinda dark, but it had to be my imagination. I stuck out my hand first.
"Good match. You're still a tough one. Next time, I'll definitely..."
"You won."
"...Huh?"
What's with him today? Didn't he hear the teacher?
"Why'd you just stand there at the end?"
"That was..."
I was too shocked by what you did. Never imagined you'd rip the rope barehanded.
"I dropped my sword to break free no matter what."
"So?"
"That means I lost. If you'd attacked then, I couldn't have countered."
What kinda bullshit logic was that? Why fixate on hypotheticals instead of facts? If I'd attacked, you'd have lost? But I didn't, so you won. Or was it something like, "Dropping your sword is a swordsman's shame"?
"Hey, quit being a sore loser and just accept it."
Rachel, fed up, jumped in. Her words were rough, but right now, she was my staunchest ally.
"If you got wrecked, own it clean."
"Um... Rachel?"
"Ah, slip of the tongue. If you won...? Anyway."
Nope, scratch that. She's useless after all. Sure, it was a clichéd line for the situation, but why assume the protagonist lost outright?
Despite Rachel's meddling, Layered eyed us with clear dissatisfaction.
"Rematch next time."
"...Again?"
"Duels are best of three."
Hm. By that logic, I'd already lost twice. Even best of three was over.
He left after saying his piece.
That kid's got some weird quirks, huh.
Tell me about it...
I knew he was competitive from the original story, but he's even more unhinged than I thought. Unlike what I'd hoped, shaking off this bad blood with the protagonist wouldn't be easy.
Somehow, I wrapped up academy classes. Night fell again, time for Phantom Thief Raven.
After resting yesterday, I'd push hard today. So, what was on the agenda?
"Welcome. Mr. Phantom Thief."
"Yes. Ms. Witch. Been a while."
First, offload the stolen painting. Her shop felt familiar now. At this point, didn't I qualify as a regular?
"Hehe. Quite the flashy heist again."
"All thanks to you, Ms. Witch."
Polite flattery, but not entirely wrong. Thanks to her, I'd hit the forger's underground for the fake.
"Oh my. Then as thanks, a kiss of gratitude...?"
"I'll pass."
"Tch."
Why the tongue-click?
"So, what's the business today?"
"Selling this."
I showed her the painting.
"A few days ago you wanted a fake of this, and now you're selling the real deal."
"Haha. That's the phantom thief way."
"Fine by me. Good items like this don't come easy."
The Witch accepted happily and paid up—of course, under her shop's sole rule: "Price is Witch's whim."
"Anything else you need?"
"Got any trowels or pots, by chance?"
"Oh? Bonsai hobby?"
"Something like that."
Her shop had everything except the impossible. Plain trowels and pots were no exception.
After settling the bill, as I turned to leave, the Witch asked,
"What're you stealing tonight, Mr. Phantom Thief?"
"Sadly, other plans. Time to settle that overdue debt."
Now it was time to fulfill the forger's request.