Hubby
Luke. It's been a while. His match is over, so why isn't he heading inside to rest? What's he just standing there for?
After I'd walked out onto the stage for my own match, my eyes met Luke's. He was staring at me from the corridor — a welcome face I hadn't seen in a month, not since we'd traveled together after rescuing those children in the forest.
His bout was finished, yet he hadn't gone to rest. I couldn't quite tell what was going through his head, but it almost looked like he was silently thanking me for the lesson I'd given him once before. Behind the mask, the corner of my mouth twitched upward.
Kid. He looked pretty sharp out there earlier. Guess he's been training hard.
I'd been quietly worried. My presence in this world had erased Luke's original growth events, and I'd wondered whether he'd still be able to come into his own. Those worries had been for nothing. The boy of the stars was growing just fine — steadily, and by his own hand.
"Hey, pal. Don't I get any of that attention?"
"My apologies. What was it you were saying?"
"Name's Duran. You weren't even listening to my introduction? That's cold. I'm a pretty well-known knight down south, I'll have you know."
I turned from Luke to find a bald, thickly muscled man offering me a wry smile along with his name. A spear longer than he was tall rested against his shoulder, and even at a glance the blade's keenness and temper were anything but ordinary.
"I already knew your name from the bracket. But is a spear allowed at the Sword and Magic Festival? Doesn't quite fit the name."
"Ah, the first festival was swords-only, from what I hear. They've allowed other weapons ever since. Locking it to swordsmen wouldn't be very practical in a real fight, so it was a reasonable change."
Duran spun that massive spear as if it were a wooden stick while he explained. I nodded along to the bald Speedwagon's friendly briefing — and behind us, the spectators had started to murmur.
"Hey. That man... isn't that Duran, the Righteous Knight of the South?"
"That gleaming head and those monstrous muscles... yeah, that's him. Word is his hobby is doing good deeds for starving children."
"Good heavens. If that's true, he's a model for every knight alive."
"Agreed. They say it's become a trend down south — people do good turns and say, 'Because that's what Knight Duran would have done.'"
"Ohh... now that's a beautiful story."
The spectators were trading a tale of virtue I'd heard somewhere before. More to the point — this Duran fellow was a decent guy. Helping hungry kids? He was just a good person, plain and simple. And from the way people talked, he had the skill to back it up. I'd have to take back thinking he was a pushover.
"Ready?"
"Yeah. I'll even let you have the first move."
"That's some confidence. Here I come!"
A gong crashed, and the match began. Duran kicked off the ground and closed the distance like a bolt of lightning — a long, stretching thrust that made full use of the spear's reach. Looking closely, a transparent aura had taken a razor-sharp form at the tip.
Hoh.
A knight who could actually use aura. No wonder he'd made a name for himself as the Righteous Knight of the Empire's south. Unfortunately for him, he'd drawn the wrong opponent.
You have my condolences for meeting me in the first round, Duran.
I had my own reasons for being here. I felt bad for him, but I needed this over quickly.
His spear came screaming toward me. Before the tip could reach my body, I lifted my foot — lightly — and set it back down.
A deep, rolling boom shuddered through the earth.
Authority is being used.
The opponent has been rendered unable to fight.
"?!"
Perhaps because I'd grown more practiced since using it on Luke. I hadn't even put any particular force into the stomp, and yet Duran lost his balance in an instant and went down under my Heavenly Demon Reign Step.
He crashed and tumbled across the stage.
"Ghk...! What in the...?"
"Well fought. Get some rest."
Duran lay there, still trying to make sense of what had happened. I walked up to him and swung my sword.
A sharp crack — something shattering — and the Protective Artifact activated. The signal that the match was over rang out across the arena, and the stands erupted in shock, as if no one could believe what they had just seen.
"...W-what was that?"
"He neutralized an aura knight with a single footstep? I've never heard of anything like that...!"
"That knight. Did they say his name was Licht?"
"Licht...!"
"A formidable favorite for the championship has arrived!"
Shock turned to exhilaration. Exhilaration turned to cheers. Before long, the roar of the crowd was shaking the entire arena.
Standing in the middle of that ear-splitting roar, I glanced up at the nobles' viewing box on the upper level. Every last one of them was sitting with their mouth open at a technique they had never seen in their lives. Even the Emperor's expression had shifted. My Heavenly Demon Reign Step had apparently left quite an impression.
Look at them, getting this worked up over so little.
For the matches still ahead, I intended to win using only Authority — without touching my aura at all. I could hardly afford to give my identity away by using it.
That said, there was still plenty of time before the second round...
What do I do until then?
I was scratching at my mask when Eustia came to mind. The Treasure of the Empire, whose beauty would make even a goddess jealous. Come to think of it, I had never once seen her fight. There simply hadn't been a proper opportunity.
Setting aside the fact that she possessed eyes that could see through the truth, I was genuinely curious about her skill as well. I figured I might as well watch Eustia's match before I had to fight in the second round, and I started walking.
"Excuse me."
On the corridor leading to the contestants' waiting rooms, a clear, ringing woman's voice brought me to a halt.
"......"
Why was she waiting for me here? In a passageway where every other footstep had fallen still, I looked at the woman standing in front of me.
Hair as beautiful as a night sky unfurled. A voluptuous figure, tastefully revealed. And a fierce presence, like a predator's.
"Licht. What's your true identity?"
Elda Ferrenka was waiting for me with something in her eyes that went well beyond curiosity.
"My true identity? That's a rather sudden question."
"I mean exactly what I said. You... Licht isn't your real name, is it?"
"Is that so. What makes you think that?"
In the corridor just after the match, they stood facing each other. Licht answered while meeting Elda's gaze head-on — calm, and almost shamelessly composed. He didn't firmly deny it, either, and Elda's lashes lowered.
Licht...
A man who had appeared like the wind. She had only heard the name for the first time today, talking with him in the park, but the strength she had witnessed with her own eyes was enough to shake the entire Empire. No — more than that. Even searching the whole of the Empire's history, a powerhouse of this caliber would be hard to find.
He won't tell me easily. But I have to find out who he is.
Elda glanced around, then caught Licht's wrist and pulled him into a room.
The door shut with a heavy thud.
Only the two of them were inside. Elda's eyes sharpened as she spoke.
"What makes me think that? It's strange that a knight this strong has never had his name known until now. Taking down an aura knight with a single footstep — I've never seen anything like that in my life."
"......"
"If you're hiding something, tell me. The Sword and Magic Festival is a huge opportunity for the Academy's students. At this rate they're going to lose to you no matter what, so I at least want to know why."
She had pressed in so close her chest nearly brushed against him, backing Licht against the wall, the words tumbling out in a rapid-fire stream. In that moment, Licht's crimson eyes wavered.
I knew it... I was right.
She had to get the truth out of him here, once and for all. Elda swallowed, her throat dry, and opened her mouth again.
"We only met today, but I don't think you're a bad person. So can't you tell me the truth? So that I can keep believing in you."
Her tone was packed tight with sincerity. Had it reached him?
"Mm..."
Licht offered no denial. He simply let out a quiet hum. Watching him, Elda felt certain — this man really wasn't a bad person. If he had meant to deceive her to the end, he wouldn't have given her the time of day. And it had been the same before the tournament, when they'd sat together eating salt bread and talking. For some reason, he was a man who felt instinctively close.
Then, unbidden, she remembered something her grandmother had told her as a child.
She said you'd know your fated person by instinct, didn't she...
It was her grandmother's word, so she remembered it — but honestly, she had never been able to believe it. She had always wanted to take a man stronger than anyone as her husband, and to bear his child.
But if. Just if.
If someone appeared who felt instinctively close — and who was stronger than anyone else. Someone who satisfied both conditions at once.
What kind of face would she make, standing in front of that person?
She was gathering up the thought when Licht slowly began to speak.
"Hah. I suppose I have no choice. I didn't want to burden you with this, but... since it's come to this, I'll tell you. I'd like you to promise me one thing, though."
"Promise you what?"
"That you will never speak to anyone of what you see and hear inside this room. Well? Will you accept?"
His tone was level, almost flat. But Licht's voice carried a force that could not be refused.
I have no choice but to accept anyway.
The Sword and Magic Festival was a golden chance for students to have their skill recognized. As their supervising professor, she needed to know what was happening in the tournament. After a moment's thought, Elda nodded.
"......"
In a silence like a still lake, Licht removed his mask.