Chapter 85
Celine didn't feel particularly sad or angry about losing the duel. It was a given that she had talent in magic, but she wasn't accustomed to fighting with spells, and as someone whose scholarly side outweighed her combat prowess, the defeat left a lingering regret but no real remorse or fury.
The real issue, though, was the shock of the person she'd been hyper-aware of suddenly standing up and leaving mid-duel without a word. Sure, she'd later learned he'd stepped out to stop the Heaven God Cult's shady schemes, but a delicate girl's heart doesn't heal that easily.
"Um... Lady Celine?"
"...Hmph."
That's why she was now openly sulking in front of Mars, staging a little protest. It was partly genuine pouting, but mostly because she found his flustered reaction to her whining so adorable—she wanted to savor it just a bit longer.
"I-I'm sorry, Lady Celine. I promised to cheer for your duel... but lives were at stake."
She knew that. She'd never spoken directly to Prazia, but she'd experienced firsthand that Mars was the type to jump in and save people rather than let them die. It was one of the reasons she'd fallen for him.
"............Hmph."
"Hmm... What can I do to earn your forgiveness?"
"You made me drop out, so take responsibility."
"Yes, understood."
"Eh? For real?"
Celine blinked in surprise—she hadn't expected him to actually agree to take responsibility. Shaking off the intriguing thoughts bubbling up, she murmured to him softly.
"Th-then... come to my house next time!"
"That's not hard... but may I ask why?"
"To treat you to dinner! I've owed you so much, but I haven't properly repaid you for anything..."
"I don't think you've ever treated me poorly, Lady Celine... but I'd be happy to accept the dinner invitation."
And just like that, a dinner invite was sealed on a whim. Celine kept a calm facade while mentally plotting strategies to satisfy Mars at the meal.
* * *
The day of the Muhanje finals dawned.
Polo had naturally advanced, but the problem was Prazia, entangled in the kidnapping incident, hadn't fully recovered by finals day. She'd insisted she could compete since her other hand was fine, but Bellum Academy's headmaster flatly refused, unwilling to risk further injury. She was automatically eliminated.
"A top contender dropping out... Tough break for Bellum."
"They must've prepared extensively against such a strong rival academy. But protecting their student instead of forcing her to compete shows they're a good place."
Indeed, if Bellum's headmaster were some selfish glory-hound obsessed with reputation, he'd have shoved the injured Prazia into the ring anyway, risking worse harm. Learning his pride coexisted with genuine care for students even built some quiet goodwill toward Bellum Academy.
"Gaaah!! Heaven God Cult, you filthy bastards!!"
Of course, amid the wholesome vibes, some were still venting rage nonstop. Gamblers who'd bet heavily on the top Muhanje favorites were cursing the cult's vile acts, crumpling their worthless betting slips and radiating murderous intent rivaling the Seven Killings Star.
"If those guys alone took on the Heaven God Cult, it'd be over quick, right?"
"...Yeah, for real."
Watching them exude such ferocity—even the princess acknowledged it—filled me with pity, so I deliberately looked away.
My gaze landed on Polo, heading to the finals stage.
Thud, thud—
Soon, the finalists faced off before the crowd.
"......"
"......"
Unlike previous matches, they didn't clash immediately at the start. Instead, they probed each other's strength with cautious movements. Was that prudence what carried them to the finals?
Tat—!
Clang!!
His opponent's attack struck first—a heavy downward blow. Polo didn't panic, twisting his blade to deflect it smoothly. But as he channeled arm strength to grip and shove back the blade that had glanced off his power alone, Polo was pushed back by the momentum.
Thung, clang!!
Clang—kagagak!!
Shiiik! Chaeng!!
Kaduduk!!
Polo's textbook swordsman style clashed fiercely with his opponent's erratic moves that dulled reactions, gripping the audience in sweaty suspense.
But.
"That's not good..."
As time passed, Polo was visibly being pushed. His by-the-book swordplay might seem an impregnable fortress at first, but once patterns were read, he became vulnerable prey. Raw power and endurance had covered it so far, but more clashes would spell certain defeat—I could feel it.
"......!"
Polo sensed it too; his expression soured, and he took shallow cuts on his arms and legs.
What're you gonna do?
"......"
His eyes mixed emotions as he retreated from the sudden assault. His trembling grip on the sword betrayed deep turmoil.
"......Hoo."
Grip—!
Steeling himself, Polo clenched the quivering hilt tight. Then, bizarrely, he closed his eyes and raised his sword in this dire spot.
"Why's he doing that?"
"Such a risky move... Is he trying something new?"
"B-Brother... Is he okay?"
The girls fretted over Polo's odd action, fearing major injury, but I grinned wide at his stance.
"You rascal... Yeah, you can do it."
His opponent hesitated, confused by the sudden focus, but with no referee halt and nothing happening, he charged, seeing an opening.
"It's over!!"
"--------------"
………………
"?"
"??"
When I came to, Polo's sword pointed groundward, his opponent standing dumbfounded behind him.
There should've been clash of steel or slicing sounds, but the stage was eerily silent despite the exchange.
"Still rough around the edges, but not bad."
"What do you—"
Thud.
Before the princess could retort, the charging opponent collapsed without a scream.
Noctus Style 1: Gu-do (Seeking the Way)
-Wha? Oh, uh... S-since the opponent has fallen, the w-winner is Polo Helios!!
With the Muhanje champion decided, the crowd forgot the mystery and erupted in cheers. Probably only I knew that sword art's true nature across these vast stands.
Gu-do (Seeking the Way)—Noctus Style's first form, the foundation of my ascent to Aura Lord. The guy who'd watched me closest had become my fellow traveler on that path.
"Now you look like a real swordsman."
* * *
As expected of the protagonist, Polo shone amid powerhouses, claiming first place in the Muhanje. The finals felt anticlimactic without powerhouse Prazia due to her accident—nothing against the finalists' skills, but fans craving spectacle were left wanting.
Sensing the crowd's vibe, Polo's award ceremony face was glum, but catching my gaze, he looked over. Knowing his unmatched effort and worthiness, I smiled, raised a finger in a thumbs-up. He finally beamed, proudly owning the top spot.
"Glad it ended well. Let's make Polo treat us to something delicious to celebrate his win?"
"Sounds good."
I planned to congratulate him not just on victory, but stepping onto the sword's true path.
Or so I thought as the finals wrapped up all events.
-Now, for a very special match~!
"?"
More? Tuning in, unsure if I'd missed something.
-Straight up~ A duel between the empire's two Aura Lords!! A breathtaking clash of superhuman titans, starting now!!
Waaaaaa!!
The rare spectacle ignited roaring cheers.
"......Huh?"
My brain lagged; that split-second escape window shattered.
I should've bolted the instant the announcer spoke.
"What the—"
"What else?"
Chill—!
That voice etched deep in my spine. The thick hand on my shoulder—the culprit proving human flesh hardens with trials.
"H-H-H-Heh... M-Master...?"
"Yeah."
A handsome middle-aged man with sun-golden hair and Polo's tall features like his father. Scars between cuffed shirt and hands chronicled a stormy life.
"My disciple. It's been a while—let's spar with your master."