An Unexpected Draw
With the referee's shout from nearby, the first match ended just like that. The whistle-like sound from our arena served as the signal, and soon metallic clashes and screams echoed from other venues as well. Until the other students' matches concluded, we returned our weapons and waited in place. The student slumped across from me was a bit distracting, but I flexed my empty hands, feeling the lingering sensation of the protective barrier. 'The outside feels like steel, but the inside is like sticky sand?'
The blade hadn't clashed directly with mine—it had clearly been stopped in midair. The sound of impact against the barrier was metallic, yet the strange sensation left on my hands lingered as I mulled it over. At least the barrier held up well…. If the blade had pushed just five centimeters deeper, it would've turned into a bloodbath. Was the barrier always this precarious? I set aside what I didn't understand and glanced around the arena. 'Still a ways to go…?'
Sharp metallic rings, the sound of sand being kicked up as people tumbled. Occasionally, short battle cries or the whoosh of blunt weapons cutting through air brushed past my ears. Among them, one sound in particular caught my attention—the mystical arc of magic slicing through the air toward its target. Colorless ripples, blazing flames, undulating waves, raging storms, and sometimes solid earth and stone. Magic was still an object of longing. Because I couldn't have it, it only made me crave it more. Even though I'd long since given up, it still managed to kindle a fire in the ashes of my heart.
While I secretly burned with desire for magic, the alarm from the bracelets rang out from every direction. As time passed, matches in other arenas reached their conclusions one after another. Naturally, most of those sitting on the ground weren't wearing school uniforms. "That was an excellent match. We ask the audience to give our students a round of enthusiastic cheers and warm applause."
The low voice continued with formal remarks, sounding satisfied with the results. As soon as he finished, polite applause rippled through the stands. The staff moved in unison, collecting the bracelets from the students. Feeling the cumbersome weight leave my wrist, I absentmindedly rubbed and rotated the freed joint. At the same time, I found myself staring at the bracelets in the staff's hands, coveting their performance. 'I don't know how they work, but…'
The protective bracelet's performance had been exceptional—I'd felt it firsthand when blocking the sword. Could it somehow be modified for use outside? It was a simple, reckless thought born from ignorance. "Now, please welcome the next students with warm applause."
Anyway, the first match ended with a dull victory and an exit. If things continued like this, I'd have to get through three more matches before the mock battle was truly over. Unlike the game, where only four matches were shown briefly, waiting in the waiting room and moving between the stands and arena was tedious. After the second match, I even got a chance to watch the second-years' matches….
Even among the first-years, students in uniform had a much higher win rate, but the gap was even wider starting with the second-years. It was over in an instant. Just like I had moved the moment the signal sounded in my first match—where the first-years still showed hesitation—the second-years charged at each other or cast magic without a moment's thought. The same went for the students not wearing uniforms, yet the outcome was always the same. They were either bombarded by magic or had their weapons knocked away by merciless swings. Even if someone managed to dodge or parry a few times, they only bought a few seconds. Then came the beep, and the alarm decided the winner.
"Still nervous?" "A little, but I won anyway."
Even as the bolder second-year matches continued, my classmates chatted based on their own experiences. "Hmm, maybe I should've gone out too." "It wasn't a big deal. You should've just gone." They spoke of swinging swords or casting magic at opponents regardless of gender as if it were some grand feat. From the protagonist's and our side's perspective, it was an easy fight, just like a practice match. For the students without uniforms, it probably felt forced due to school circumstances, but that was simply how students from wealthy families viewed it. The term "target practice" I'd heard once wasn't wrong after all.
In reality, even if the protagonist twisted his body and lost all four matches in the game, the overall flow of the tournament wouldn't change. One way or another, it always ended with an overwhelming victory for the students in uniform. It must have felt completely unfair to the opposing students…. But from the side reaping all the benefits, there was nothing to say. I wasn't some champion of the common people, and I didn't have the kind of strong sense of justice needed to preach equality in this era.
"Is that him?" "Uh… yeah, probably?"
While I sat blankly waiting for the third match, I heard approaching voices. Two boys around my age. Reacting to the sound, I turned my gaze from the arena ahead toward the voices. Two faces I vaguely recognized from class were approaching my seat. They looked like they were coming to talk. Since I wasn't used to conversing with students from wealthy families, I quickly scanned my surroundings. My eyes searched for Kair, who would casually approach and strike up a conversation when bored. But at that moment, he was nowhere to be seen in the stands. 'Of course he's gone when you need him…'
"Hey, you. You're the one who finished the first match the fastest, right?" "Ah, yeah."
Swallowing my disappointment at the protagonist who was nowhere to be found when needed, I gave a short affirmative. There was no ranking system in the mock battle. So even if I performed well, I didn't think I'd stand out much…. "Your skills were impressive. Mind if I ask you to spar sometime?"
Contrary to my expectations, it seemed I'd drawn some attention from my male classmates. The boldness of moving the instant the signal sounded—without considering that it was the first-years' first mock battle—had caught their eye. One student didn't just admire it but even asked me to spar with him occasionally. Managing just Kair was already enough of a headache, let alone dealing with other students…. I racked my brain for an excuse and finally managed one. "Sorry, I'm not good enough to teach anyone. I just charged in out of nerves during the first match too." "Hmm, really? That's a shame."
When I refused with a raised palm, the boy gave up cleanly without pushing further. Just as I was breathing a sigh of relief, he spoke again. "It's not really a substitute, but can I at least ask your name?" "…Shen."
I wasn't sure what he meant by "substitute," but the boy settled for asking my name. It was information anyone could find just by looking at the seating chart in class, so there was no point in hiding it. I answered with a short reply—my name. "I'm Mars. Let's get along from now on."
The boy who introduced himself as Mars shook my hand briefly before returning to his seat…. Setting aside the fact that I'd had a normal conversation with a classmate, I stared at his retreating back and muttered inwardly. 'He wasn't in the game, was he? Definitely…'
A student I'd never seen before. Whenever I met someone new, I couldn't help but wonder if they were someone I already knew. Even though I knew not everyone was an NPC reciting fixed lines, it was a habit I couldn't shake. Living in this world had softened my rigid thinking a little…. But the experiences I'd had and the knowledge I possessed still made me hope, deep down, that this world hadn't changed much from what I knew.
If the item I was certain was hidden in a certain place wasn't there. If a monster's information was completely different from what I knew. From that point on, I might not be able to move with any certainty. All my bold actions stemmed from the confidence that I knew this world well. Unknown people. Unknown situations. The cracks they created were what I feared most. Even if it was only a small portion, the moment my certainty from solid knowledge was shaken…. From then on, everything in the future would become an uncertain unknown, baring its teeth. 'I need to stay sharp.'
Slapping my cheeks to shake off the vague anxiety, I finally finished my fourth match. Only then did I run into Kair again—the guy who had been nowhere to be seen. When you needed him he was gone, but the moment he spotted me, he casually rested his elbow on my shoulder. "How many wins?" "Four matches, four wins."
Instead of small talk, Kair cut straight to the point. I answered dryly that I'd won all four of my matches, as expected. His results didn't really matter—what was important was the protagonist Kair's score. I'd been certain he'd won all his matches too, but I asked anyway to confirm. "What about you?" "Uh, well…."
Then, despite his elbow still resting on my shoulder, Kair trailed off. You bastard, don't tell me… No way. Even if you filled your schedule with rest, you should still win the first mock battle, right? I stared at him with wide eyes, and he finally muttered his answer. "Four matches… three wins, one draw." 'What?'
I thought it must be a joke, but there was no twist. A draw had somehow slipped into a result that should've been four wins without question. Did you just defend without attacking and then throw out a love shot or something? What kind of insane deadweight was this.