Not Much to It
“Not much to it, after all.”
“Heh…”
Chris rose with a crooked grin, dust cascading from his clothes in a soft cascade.
“You… sinner who’ll never even glimpse Heaven.”
The moment he leveled his blade and spoke those words, a theology student in the stands clapped a hand over his mouth with a sharp gasp.
“How can he say something so vile…?”
The rest of the theological students reacted the same way. A few simply shook their heads at Chris’s line.
That was right. Chris had just unleashed the absolute highest-tier curse a clergyman could utter.
“You little lamb whose words would make the Goddess herself cover her ears.”
The stands grew even louder—though only on the Theological School side.
“I’ll cast you down to Hell.”
Wiiing—!
A blue speck bloomed above Chris’s head and swiftly resolved into a radiant halo.
“You sure talk a lot for a damn bug.”
Laward, for his part, watched Chris with flat indifference. Both of them had started running their mouths now…
Compared to Chris’s tirade, Laward’s words felt like something you shouldn’t even put in your mouth. Then again, he still hadn’t asked after anyone’s mother, so by old Laward standards this probably counted as ordinary greeting.
Shiiik!
Chris swung. A blue blade of energy shot forward like a bolt.
Kwaang!
Laward dropped low and slipped past the slash, but he still didn’t know the true nature of Chris’s unique magic.
Chris’s unique magic was Cross Barrage.
One more shot from the sky.
Kwa-kwaang!
It fell.
“Ghk!”
A beam that punched straight through the clouds slammed into Laward dead-on. He staggered, face twisted in pain. Black smoke coiled around his body.
Chiiik—
He wobbled as if about to collapse, then planted both feet hard into the earth.
“Oho…”
Simena watched with open interest.
“Is that durability… or sheer willpower…?”
“It’s durability. He still isn’t drawing on willpower enough to—”
Laward’s eyes snapped wide as he locked onto Chris.
“—push him yet.”
Wiiing—!
Two halos spun at high speed. The circular thruster mouths glowed cherry-red, then accelerated again. Distance closed in a heartbeat.
Whoosh!
Chris, however, had already been burned twice. The instant Laward began his wind-up, Chris opened the gap and spat blade energy to keep him honest. Laward had no choice but to veer off into an evasive cut.
…Had he already spotted Laward’s weakness after a single exchange?
Laward could move at extreme speed, but the thrusters needed warm-up time.
“Hey, sinner. Draw your sword.”
“Against the likes of you I don’t need to.”
Chiiik—
Laward’s feet scraped the floor as he bled speed.
“Ha. Suit yourself.”
Shishishik!
Chris’s arms blurred. Blade energy and descending beams of light poured down in unbroken succession. The arena flashed blue, countless points of light strobing so thick they seemed to fill the entire field.
It was like a game of chess. You had to read the opponent’s placement and know exactly which squares you could still move to.
Laward hunted empty space and dove for it. The second he committed, Chris switched forms. Multiple sword paths already lay prepared, ready to meet him no matter which way he fled.
At first the attacks never even brushed his collar. As his stamina ebbed, however, scratches began to bloom across his face and arms.
“Is this turning into a battle of endurance…?”
Simena rubbed his chin while he watched.
“If it does, the student sprinting all over the arena is the one at a disadvantage. Especially since Daywin’s disciple seems focused solely on close combat. At this rate he’ll never close the distance…”
Exactly as he said: Laward had begun breathing hard, while Chris still looked fresh. Planted in one spot, pouring out barrage after barrage, the genius holy knight’s stamina drain seemed minimal—as expected of someone who trained only for this.
What would Laward do now? Pull out whatever card he’d prepared in secret?
“No. It still isn’t disadvantageous.”
“Are you serious? From where I’m sitting—”
The moment Laward’s halo began to move, Simena cut himself off.
Whoosh!
Just like when he faced Rebecca. The halo flipped; the thruster mouths reversed completely. The same force that had been shoving Laward forward now pointed straight at Chris.
Puh-eong!
A shockwave heavy enough to rattle the heart slammed outward.
“Khuh!”
Chris’s sword stopped cold. He was hurled backward.
“You… aren’t limited to close range—”
“There was a time I was.”
In that opening the remaining halo shoved Laward from behind. Awakening his unique magic had granted him monstrous acceleration and even mid-range options, yet two weaknesses remained: warm-up and cooldown.
His thrusters, shaped like a fighter’s nozzles, needed time to build explosive thrust and needed time again before the next burst. Watching Laward throw his body around to dodge the barrage without using the thrusters had apparently clued Chris in.
The opponent now knew both Laward’s strengths and his weaknesses. That made this next chance essentially the last.
Whoosh!
The instant Laward closed to point-blank range—
“I’ve been waiting for this exact moment.”
Chris laughed and yanked a dagger from inside his coat. Laward’s eyes flew wide at the hidden weapon. Even then the dagger drank in blue light.
“You can’t reverse direction mid-air.”
Shiiik—!
He carved a line through empty space. Blade energy raced for Laward’s chest at the same moment a shaft of light fell from the sky. Just as Chris claimed: once both feet had left the ground there was no changing course, no bleeding speed.
Yet Laward was smiling too.
Ppak!
He thrust both arms forward and gathered holy power in his palms. His unique magic was an application of F-Rank stun magic, but that didn’t mean he could only fire it through the thrusters. The old combat methods still lived in his body.
Teong!
Stun magic exploded from his outstretched hands. Sudden deceleration. By firing the stun blast forward he killed his own momentum and slipped past Chris’s Cross Barrage. The moment his feet touched earth he seized Chris’s collar.
Caught. Again.
Tuk!
He hooked a leg, dumped Chris onto his back, and drove a knee into the solar plexus.
“Ghk—!”
While Chris groaned in agony Laward seized the superior position, then stretched his right hand out until it hovered right in front of Chris’s eyes.
“Ugh…!”
Chris must have read the next move; his molars clamped tight.
Tung! Tung! Teong—!
Three stun blasts in a row, delivered straight into Chris’s face. The same magic used during the Houndry operation—except Laward’s holy power was nothing like it had been then. Even among F-Rank techniques, the destructive force now ranked among the absolute strongest.
Wuuung!
Still unsatisfied, Laward gathered holy power once more.
“Chris!”
“Brother Chris!”
Screams that might have been cheers or pure despair erupted from the stands all at once. The theology students had realized defeat was coming; every neck vein stood out as they roared.
“Get up!”
“You can’t fall like this! Hurry!”
Tung! Teong!
Laward answered with merciless intensity, pouring every ounce of power into stun magic. He fixated on the head and detonated it again and again.
Is he actually trying to kill him?
“Th-that’s enough!”
I was just wondering whether I should step in when the referee forced himself between them. Only then did Laward climb off Chris.
“Haa…”
Simena clicked his tongue at the sight.
“Was getting into the final eight that hard for you, genius holy knight?”
I tossed the line at Chris once he’d pulled himself together and returned to the stands under the consolation of his classmates. The moment he confirmed my face his expression twisted; then he simply shook his head.
“…Mock me as much as you like. What am I going to do about it after losing to you?”
“Right, no need to face me at all. There’s nobody left who’ll match up against someone already eliminated. Hahaha!”
I needled him with everything I had, channeling Blash’s exact tone. In the game a round-of-sixteen weapon might be strong, but a round-of-sixteen holy knight was paper-thin.
“Ugh…”
Pride already discarded, Chris only shook his head again. Simena, watching from the side, wore a look of pure pity, but I pretended not to notice.
“Ah, there you are.”
From the left the Academy Chairman settled beside me, delicately adjusting his tie.
“So many people to greet—only just managed to sit down. Whew.”
And so I found myself watching the rest of the matches with the Chairman on my left and the Principal on my right—both school masters flanking me.
“Chairman, did you catch that last match?”
Simena, now overflowing with things to say about Laward, asked the moment the man sat.
“No, unfortunately. I’m only just catching my breath.”
“You would have been delighted if you had. Academy first-year Laward just defeated the Theological School’s ace!”
Simena had even memorized the name; he spoke with genuine pleasure. At that volume Chris’s back twitched.
“You must be thrilled, Chairman.”
“Ah, yes. Laward, you say. I expected as much.”
The Chairman answered with perfect calm.
“Aren’t you… surprised?”
“Well. It’s Laward, not some other student… so this was within expectations.”
Simena had clearly hoped for a more spectacular reaction; he smacked his lips and turned back toward the arena.
Both the Military Academy and the Theological School were in uproar over the shocking upset. The Academy staff, however, merely nodded as if they had known all along. Laward received cheers and welcome when he returned to the stands, yet every face said the same thing: the idea that he might fail to reach the round of sixteen—against anyone—had never even entered their minds.
The duels of the Dowon Festival’s third day would all finish today. Because the schedule ran from the round of sixteen straight through to the finals in a single day, Laward leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes for a brief rest.
Next came the heroines’ matches, in order: Rebecca, Veronica, Lucia.
When the girls stepped onto the field, Simena offered only the bland observation, “Pretty young ladies, aren’t they?”
Then Rebecca defeated a Theological School student.
“Eh…?”
Apparently that result had not been in the script; his words dried up at once. The Chairman’s face changed as well. Laward’s victory had been expected, but the heroines had clearly fallen outside that calculation.
“Daywin, did you see? That student…”
“That’s Rebecca, Chairman.”
“Yes—Rebecca! One of the children you sponsor, isn’t she? She won with such precise, fiery swordsmanship!”
“That girl as well…?”
Simena asked. Recalling that I had raised Laward, he looked startled all over again.
“Yes. Surprising, isn’t it, Principal? Daywin not only recommended Laward for special admission—he sponsors other students as well. Those children were, quite frankly, lacking… no, they simply needed a bit more effort, and yet…”
Encouraged by Simena’s reaction, the Chairman launched into a nonstop monologue about me, starting from Ester and continuing all the way to the present, ignoring the way Simena’s interest gradually waned.
In the middle of it—
Puh-eong—!
“Huh. Not as impressive as I thought.”
Veronica claimed victory as well.
“Daywin! Th-this… what is happening? Three already! Three of the eight who will advance to the quarterfinals are our students…!”
The Chairman seized my shoulders and shook them in delight, looking ready to leap into the arena himself.
“This year is… a little different, I suppose…”
Simena’s expression, by contrast, grew steadily stiffer.
Meanwhile the Academy section of the stands had turned into a festival. To the students it must have felt even more dramatic: the lowest-ranked students of their year, a repeat student who had already failed once—nobody had expected anything from them, yet here they were returning like generals who had just taken the enemy commander’s head. Popularity was inevitable.
Rebecca basked in the reaction as if it were her due; Veronica looked mortified and fled as fast as she could.
Then came Lucia’s turn at last.
Shiiik—
A roar that threatened to rupture eardrums was followed by a plume of dust rising from the arena floor.
“Hwah…! That was quick…!”
Lucia exhaled in pure relief. The match had ended in her victory the instant it began.
“Daywin, that student is…”
The Chairman asked, unable to believe what he had just witnessed.
“Third-year of the Sword Department, Lucia.”
“We had a student that strong… in our school? Why have I never heard—”
“You couldn’t have known. She’s a little different from usual.”
To be precise, this was Lucia after a full eight hours of sleep.