The Inter-Year Tournament
"Welcome, students."
Inside the lecture wing of Olympia Academy, the great auditorium was packed with cadets. First-years through fourth-years filled the seats without regard for age, and they had all gathered for a single reason.
The notice posted on the administrative office wall—the Inter-Year Tournament.
The man who had brought them together, Vice Chairman Kiron, continued.
"First, allow me to thank those of you who applied to participate in the Inter-Year Tournament. I hope the results prove satisfying for you all."
"……."
"As we also have newly enrolled students among us, I will explain how the tournament is conducted."
The rules of the Inter-Year Tournament were simple. The academy arranged one-on-one brackets with the students' abilities in mind. Since each participant fought only once, the key was how highly that single bout would be evaluated.
"……And that is why, in your one opportunity, you must display the finest performance you can. The more outstanding your showing, the better your evaluation will be."
As he had said before, the Inter-Year Tournament scored participants on how good a performance they put on.
Suppose, for example, that A and B's head-to-head record stood at ninety-nine to zero. If B overturned that absolute disadvantage and won in the Inter-Year Tournament, that student would earn an overwhelming score. Or if the gap in ability between you and your opponent was obvious and you still put up a strong fight—that, too, would earn high marks.
So the condition for victory in the Inter-Year Tournament could be defined quite simply.
"To put on the most outstanding performance in your year. That is what qualifies a champion."
With that, Kiron finished his explanation.
—They're just going to set the brackets themselves? Is that okay?
—Who's my opponent? Anyone but the top student is fine.
As the still-unfamiliar first-years whispered among themselves, Kiron smiled gently.
"No need to worry so much. You will be matched with those of comparable ability. Top students face top students."
Haah—the first-years let out sighs of relief at that.
But I already knew better.
That's nothing to celebrate.
If every matchup was between people of similar skill, the top student still held the advantage for the championship. If you wanted to win, you had to overcome an unfavorable gap in ability.
That was my strategy for taking the title, too.
They're going to see me as the underdog no matter who I face anyway.
As a make-up student, I would be the underdog against anyone in the Knight Department. Which meant the second-year champion was more likely to be me than the top student.
"Vice Chairman. In that case, am I not permitted to choose my own opponent?"
"Hm?"
In the middle of Kiron's explanation, someone raised a hand. Every gaze in the hall swung that way. The interesting remark had caught mine as well.
A sly-looking face, muscle packed tight on his frame, a sword at his hip. I remembered him.
Jackson, or whatever his name was.
The bastard I had thoroughly thrashed right after I first possessed this body.
"I don't want the academy to decide. I want to choose my opponent myself."
"Mmm……. I commend the spirit, but deliberately selecting an opponent of differing ability is……."
Kirons's brow furrowed slightly. Jackson's request was rather unreasonable.
What's that guy thinking?
The academy didn't pair people of similar skill for no reason.
If your opponent was stronger than you, for instance, your chances of putting on a good performance dropped. High scores became hard to come by.
Or if your opponent was weaker than you, even a fine performance meant little. You had created a situation you were bound to dominate. No one was going to hand out high marks for that.
……He's got something up his sleeve.
So Jackson's request wasn't the kind of thing you judged by common sense. There was more intent behind it than that. A clear purpose—someone he specifically wanted to face.
"There is an opponent I absolutely must meet. Is it possible?"
"Hah. If you insist that strongly, I shall allow it. Good heavens, I have never seen a student like this before……."
Under the persistent pleading, Kiron finally gave in. He was probably thinking Jackson had the competitive fire to name someone stronger than himself, but…….
I doubt it.
Was Jackson really the kind of guy with that much character? He didn't look it to me.
"Who do you think your opponent will be, Heracle? Mine is so obvious it's boring."
"Yeah, yours would be."
We left the great auditorium and walked outside. The Inter-Year Tournament ran over two days, and today belonged to the third- and fourth-years, so our schedule was free. I had run into Fenel, whom I already knew, and we were heading back together.
"They say the top student is expected to participate, of course…… but I don't really feel like it. It feels like I'm walking into a beating."
"That's rough."
Fenel stuck close to my side, her lips pushed out in a pout. She had lost to Apollon, the Knight Department's top student, every single time so far. She was entering again under the banner of defending the Mage Department second-years' pride, but the truth was she probably didn't want to do it much at all.
"What about you, then, Heracle? Why did you enter?"
"What, I'm not allowed to enter? Don't tell me you're saying a make-up student should just sit quiet and take it."
"Eeh? Of course not!"
Fenel jumped at the playful jab. Afraid I might have misunderstood her, she waved her hands every which way as she corrected herself.
"I was just, um, yeah, curious. Why Heracle suddenly entered the Inter-Year Tournament. I was too curious not to ask."
"Well, fair enough."
I would have been curious too, in her place. Dead last in the Mage Department second year. A failing student with zero talent for magic. And he had entered the Inter-Year Tournament. It was basically diving headfirst into a fire pit. Moth-to-flame behavior.
"I've got my reasons. You don't need to worry about it too much."
I wasn't about to spell out the deeper circumstances—that I had to win if I didn't want to get expelled. I brushed it off lightly so Fenel wouldn't fret over me. A kind soul like her had better things to do than waste time on a make-up student.
With that in mind, I gave a small laugh and tried to reassure her. Fenel's cheeks flushed bright red, and she whipped her head away.
"Y-yeah……."
And then she started fidgeting with her fingers. Those fingers tangled and untangled atop the generous swell of her chest.
……What's with her?
Why is she acting like this. The shy words that followed from Fenel cleared it up.
"I see. You said the same thing at the library, Heracle, so……."
Ah.
The day we had gone to the secret room. Back then, when I ran into Fenel and Berry at the library, I had said something. That I would stake my life on winning. So stop worrying and sleep easy.
I was just stating the facts.
No other intention. Definitely not some underhanded attempt to charm Fenel, for the record.
But Fenel still seemed to be spinning her own private misunderstanding. She fanned her cheeks with her hand and muttered something under her breath.
"Winning would be, um, better if I did it myself……. But if I can't, I can leave it to you, right, Heracle……?"
"……."
No. Please get a grip, Miss Fenel. What are you doing, sinking into a daydream all by yourself.
And so a bizarre situation had formed out of nowhere. Fenel swimming alone through her misconceptions, and me beside her, trying to figure out how to respond. Our standoff did not last long.
"Hello there!"
A shout rang across the open grounds. A female cadet closed on us at speed, her voice bright and ringing.
"At last, a chance to snag an interview! ……Or so I thought, but what is this! What kind of situation is this!"
Scarlet twin-side hair much like Irina's. The difference was that instead of full twin tails, she had left the back of her hair free—a two-side-up style. Looking into those same blazing red eyes, I flipped through the pages of my memory.
Ruby Duerre.
A first-year in the Mage Department. Second place, or was it third.
Either way, Ruby circled around us in a wide arc, her mouth never still for a second as she chattered on.
"Scoop! This is a scoop! A secret rendezvous between Fenel, top of the Mage Department second-years, and Heracle, the make-up student! I simply must ask about this!"
"……."
Come to think of it, this one was in the Newspaper Club.
I remembered her from Song of Sword and Sorcery as an oddball who latched onto the protagonist without fail. Whenever a hot topic or piece of gossip cropped up at the academy, she never let it slip—and that role usually meant sticking to the protagonist. She had a lot of dialogue scripts…… and reality was no different.
Ruby clomped right up, pulled a notebook from her coat, set her pen to the page, and fired a question at Fenel without missing a beat.
"All right, Senior Fenel! Question. What is your relationship with Senior Heracle?"
"Uh, eh?"
"Heh heh heh. Excuses won't work, you know? A reporter's instincts are no ordinary thing. Looking at the light in Senior Fenel's eyes right now—"
"……N-no, it's not!"
Fenel squawked at Ruby's mischievous question. Her cheeks were already so red they looked ready to steam, and dew had gathered at the corners of her eyes.
This is bad.
If this kept going, something was going to happen—mostly the kind of something where I got tangled up with Fenel and chewed over by every student in the academy. I moved to step in before the nuisance could fully bloom, but—
"……W-we're not anything yet, okay!"
Fenel's bombshell shut my mouth for me.
"……."
"I see, I see. Not anything yet. Understood perfectly. I'll be sure to write that down!"
"……Aaaah! No! That's not it! Let me say it again, please listen!"
"Hahaha! Nope. Once a statement is on the record, it doesn't get deleted. That's a reporter's duty. Thank you!"
Watching Fenel cling to Ruby with a teary face while Ruby beamed and refused—
……This is going to be a pain.
I had a feeling the mages who fretted over Fenel were going to grab me next. Especially that black-haired girl with the glasses—she was going to put me through the wringer. I sighed for no good reason.