A Knife to a Sword Fight
The arena in the imperial capital was no back-alley brawl where men traded insults and fists in some dingy corner. Nor was it the sort of blood-soaked pit where slaves were thrown against lions with nothing but their bare hands. This was a professional venue where trained gladiators competed under strict regulations that changed match by match. Killing a surrendered opponent meant permanent disqualification. Only volunteers ever stepped into the ring.
Yet today, the waiting room held no professional fighters. The sharp tang of industrial disinfectant still clung to the air, undercut by the faint, coppery ghost of old blood and the metallic bite of weapons that had once lined these walls. It had been years since I last smelled this particular cocktail. I graduated from that hellhole back when I was still in elementary school, so the time really had flown.
Fucking flew by, and that was the whole damn problem…
These wretched smells dragged up memories of an old friend, souring my mood even further. Because of that son of a bitch Hoon, I was in a foul state. I’d either rearrange his face or leave his body crippled before this was over.
“...Mmm… Master!”
Airi suddenly poked my cheek.
“Ah… sorry. What is it, Airi?”
“You’ve had this dead look on your face for a while now. And you keep muttering the number two hundred over and over…”
Shit. The bad habit slipped out again.
I thought I’d gotten better lately, but after seeing that disgusting scene in the sewers, the symptoms had come roaring back. I’d believed I’d buried it for good… but the Black Round Table bastards and that piece of shit Hoon made me want to kill them all.
“Sorry… I must be a little on edge.”
“You even say the number in your sleep these days. What does it mean?”
Looking at Airi’s face only made the memories surge stronger. I decided to deflect with something stupid.
“I was trying to express how cute your face is with a number… Is that enough?”
“Come on~ That’s such an obvious lie.”
Fuck, she’s way too sharp for her own good…
“Then you should’ve gone with one hundred million or one trillion.”
“Ah… right.”
I’d run out of things to say, so I just gave a half-hearted reply. A crow was perched on Airi’s shoulder. Did she think she was Odin now? If I pointed it out, would she yelp, “What the hell is that?!”
“By the way, when did you start keeping that crow on your shoulder?”
Airi glanced at the bird. Go on, be surprised. Curse and shoo it away.
“Oh, this little guy…? He’s a… well, a recent addition. He’s really smart and sticks to my shoulder like glue.”
“Well, Lady Glacia keeps a messenger bird too… Is bird-keeping the latest trend among women these days?”
Then again, Glacia had been raising Saccharin for quite a while, so it probably wasn’t a trend thing.
“Anyway, Master! I bought what you asked for!”
Airi had brought the blade I requested. It was the weapon I’d use in the upcoming swordsmanship match against that bastard Hoon.
“Good work.”
“I paid the blacksmith to modify your old sword… but is something like this really okay for a sword fight?”
“It’s more than enough against a brat who doesn’t even know the basics.”
I brushed the dust off my pants and stood up. It was almost time to enter the arena.
“Well, since it’s you, Master, of course you’ll win. So I won’t give you some cliché cheer like ‘You have to come back victorious!’ Just… please don’t get hurt.”
“...Yeah.”
As I walked down the corridor, Glacia, who had been leaning against the wall, gave me a polite bow. She wasn’t a captured heroine so much as one with a weird bug attached.
“Lord Werner, please take care.”
“Hah, no one’s wishing me victory, I see.”
“Did you really think I was foolish enough to cheer for an outcome that’s already obvious?”
“Haha… Then please watch from the stands. I’ll clean up that annoying bug attached to Lady Glacia for you.”
“I’ll be looking forward to it.”
I left the dim corridor and stepped into the arena bathed in midday sunlight. The weather was neither too hot nor too cold. The sunlight was gentle, the breeze refreshing. It would have been a perfect day for a nap back home, but that bastard Hoon had ruined everything.
The women who had come to cheer for me—including Glacia—were seated in the VIP section, watching. Even the crown prince was there, along with the crown princess who supposedly hated going out. This match must have become quite the spectacle.
Hoon pointed at me and shouted.
“Today I will defeat you and grant freedom to Glacia-chan!”
Whoa… Glacia-chan’s expression was visibly rotting in real time. Airi teased her about it and promptly got smacked. Those two are at it again… And was that crow over there laughing too? Must be my imagination.
“If I win today, I won’t interfere with Glacia-chan ever again—”
“Shut up.”
I came here to watch fights, so why was this idiot interrupting? Oh right. I wasn’t a spectator this time.
The man who appeared to be the emcee shouted loudly.
“Ladies and gentlemen! Thank you for waiting! The match that brought you all here today is about to begin!!!”
A thunderous roar erupted from the crowd. Hoon waved at them from all directions, greeting his fans. The guy was more popular than he looked.
“As you all know! Let me first introduce the contestants! And don’t get mad at me for explaining what you already know! It’s my job!!!”
The audience burst into collective laughter. Is that shit really funny?
“First, the challenger! A man from the mysterious land of Japan on Earth! The supernova who recently shocked the adventurer’s guild! Akahara Masato!!!”
The cheers were fairly loud. He must have been somewhat famous. Well, anyone less famous than that probably wouldn’t have dared approach the crown prince and spout nonsense.
“And next! The hero who subjugated the demons threatening the empire! The archmage who developed countless spells! The number one man every tower master wants as a son-in-law! Werner Alton!!!”
This time the cheers were so loud it would’ve been rude to compare them to the previous ones. I could physically feel just how much the people treated Werner like a hero. If this were reality, it’d be like Kim Yu-sin or Gwanggaeto the Great showing up at a fight club.
“Kid, whether we’re talking about cheers or what’s between your legs… I’m bigger than you in every way. How about you just give up already?”
It was basically mercy, telling him to quit now since the difference in experience was overwhelming.
“Shut up! I’m going to drag you into the abyss of despair!”
Hoon drew the sword from his waist. At first I thought it was similar to the blade Camellia used. But of course it wasn’t. The shape was identical to a Japanese katana. If I had to point out a feature, the blade was slightly longer.
“I commissioned a blacksmith I know to make this black-iron Japanese sword, and it was finished right before the match! Its name is the cursed blade Kurokami!”
If translated literally, it means black paper…
“Haah. The sun’s going to set at this rate. Do people from your homeland fight with their mouths?”
“I’ll show you the secret sword art of the Akahara family. Our house has passed down the way of martial arts for generations.”
“Oh, is that so? Then I’ll take out my weapon too.”
I pulled a small knife from my pocket. The blade was about fifteen centimeters long and weighed roughly five hundred grams. The grip felt good in my hand, and the coated edge marked it as a fairly high-quality knife. Airi really did have good taste.
“Are you joking?! Bringing a knife like that instead of a proper longsword to a swordsmanship duel! You’re looking down on me!”
“Just as your family passed down its secret sword art, this is my sword art.”
The fucking swordsmanship I learned while smelling blood in that goddamn facility… It was on a completely different level from the wooden-sword practice kids did with their fathers and grandfathers.
“Tch! Don’t regret this later!”
“Th-then we will now begin the first match, the swordsmanship bout! As you all know, the rules are as follows: stepping outside the arena results in a loss! The first to surrender or lose consciousness is defeated! Killing a surrendered opponent will result in punishment!”
A bell rang to signal the start of the match. I gripped the dagger in a reverse hold and walked slowly toward him. Not taking a stance was a form of intimidation in itself. Hoon charged with a battle cry, sword raised.
“You really are an idiot.”
Closing the distance with a weapon like that… Well, I suppose all he’d ever learned was how to rush in.
I struck the back of his hand hard with the pommel of the knife.
“Guh!”
He couldn’t even swing his blade before dropping Kurokami or whatever the hell it was called. I kicked the sword far away.
“If reach is your advantage, you should fight from a distance, dumbass.”
I adjusted my grip on the dagger again and pressed it against his throat.
“This is cowardly…”
“Did I use poison? Did I throw sand? I suppressed you fairly in a sword fight.”
“Khh… I surrender this match. But don’t get cocky! In the next bare-handed fight, I’ll show you the Akahara family’s unique martial arts!”
Idiot.