Badronel Colosseum (2)

As Badronel's hostility spread outward, the expressions of the men trailing behind him darkened to match — but the ones guarding my side merely wore expressions of utter exhaustion, showing no particular surprise.

"It's hardly the first day you've carried on like this, girl. About time you got used to it."

'...It's not like I do it because I want to.'

"Who said anything about wanting? I merely spoke the truth, is all."

While Halbae and I bickered, Benedict bowed his head to Badronel.

"I apologize. My daughter is... a rather singular child."

"...So the rumors hold true in this as well."

The man who had aimed such naked hostility at me apparently couldn't muster the same nerve in front of Benedict, a knight of great renown. He coughed dryly and composed his face.

"Returning to the matter at hand — what business brings you to this city? Surely you don't intend to enter the Colosseum yourself, Sir Benedict?"

"Haha. My heart would love nothing more, but I'm far too old to burn with such passion anymore."

"A shame, that."

"Instead, my daughter will be entering the Colosseum."

"The young lady, you say."

Badronel raked his gaze over me with a flick of his eyes, then let his shoulders sag ever so slightly and put on an oily, sly voice.

"What a pity. I had so wished to witness the rumored prowess of the Aln heiress myself, but this tournament's roster has already filled to capacity."

"Oh? Is there truly no way at all?"

"As it is a request from Count Aln himself, I would gladly exert myself on your behalf. But as you well know, the Colosseum carries great weight within the Empire."

Even hearing that participation would be difficult, I remained perfectly composed. I had anticipated this outcome from the very start.

With every power-hungry noble in the region glaring daggers at each other for a shot at the arena, of course there were no seats left. What kind of fantasy would it be otherwise?

Even in the game, entering the Colosseum through legitimate means had been all but impossible.

"Call it a courtesy, then — we could arrange seats for you in the spectator stands."

The whole time he'd been speaking, Badronel ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hadn't so much as glanced my way — but the moment the spectator stands came up, his eyes flicked over my face.

The implication was crystal clear. A brat like me belongs in the audience seats, doesn't she?

Haha. His hostility was so blatant it was almost refreshing.

It was a thoughtless attitude so thick that even someone as oblivious as me could read it instantly. There was no way Benedict had missed it.

Yet Benedict forced a smile and slowly shook his head.

"We're grateful for the consideration, but we must decline. We'll simply visit again when another opportunity arises."

"My apologies for being unable to properly receive such honored guests."

Watching Benedict swallow his fury made my blood boil.

That graceless heart of his, caring nothing for his own mistakes and consumed only by the fact that someone had dared touch his family.

This feeling — it was close to what I'd felt that time, when I heard them insult Lucy's mother.

Had something in me changed back then, when that emotion swallowed me whole?

Even as I questioned my own feelings, I set a single goal for myself.

Badronel's son was competing in this tournament, wasn't he?

How convenient.

I'm still too weak to crush your skull, but smashing your son to pieces? That I can manage just fine.

I'd make sure you watched from the spectator stands as your boy wet himself.

Wait, what? Since when does the lousy Chief God hand out an actual, proper quest?

Did you finally develop some awareness?

Did all that righteous fury I've been screaming finally reach you?

Hmm. Though the conditions are a bit steep.

Stomping Badronel's spawn into the dirt is no big deal, but winning the entire tournament is a completely different story.

Strong or not, I'm still a little brat who hasn't even graduated from the Academy.

Whether I could actually beat the various heavy hitters entering the arena was questionable. I'd give it my best shot, but success was...

Huh?

Are my eyes broken?

Something strange just floated into view.

I blinked hard, then opened my eyes again — and staring at the text, which hadn't changed in the slightest, went wide.

The Status Window!

I can finally see my stats?!

I can see every skill I've learned, along with their proficiency levels?!

Insane. This isn't a "try your best and see what happens" situation anymore.

I had to succeed at this, no matter what it took.

As I churned through every possible plan in my head, I suddenly found myself wondering what the penalty would be.

I mean, a reward this good surely meant the risk of failure was just as steep, right?

So what would it be this time? What bizarre humiliation had they dreamed up to brand into me?

Pfff—hah. Ah, honestly. You're so refreshingly true to your own desires. I respect it.

Full makeup — that's the thing, right?

The one from ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the speech?

If that's all it is, no big deal.

Eh, whatever. If I succeed at the quest, I'll take the penalty too.

It's nothing, compared to letting me see my Status Window.

Go ahead and prepare to nosebleed like the face-obsessed fox, you perverted old lolicon Chief God.

"Oho. This is quite the predicament."

Snapping back to reality at Benedict's voice, I stole a glance at his awkward smile.

"To think the arena's roster was already full. What are we to do."

'Leave it to me...'

"Don't worry, Papa. Unlike a certain dummy of a father who's only good at swinging a sword, the capable me has a plan."

"Is that so, truly?"

'Yes...'

"I can't believe you'd doubt me, dummy Papa. I'm a little sad. I might even cry."

"No, no, I didn't doubt our Lucy, exactly. It's just... er... um. Anyway! What is this plan of yours?"

Apparently realizing that the more he spoke, the deeper the hole he was digging, Benedict hastily changed the subject.

I could probably tease him a little more, but I'd stop here. I had more than one or two things to get done.

'I'm going to take one off someone.'

"I'm going to snatch an entry pass off some other lousy bastard."

The Empire's Colosseum permits the transfer of entry passes.

The reason is simple: transfers had to be possible, or else the nobles themselves could never enter the arena.

When the ones writing the rules are the nobles, it's only natural those rules get drafted in the nobles' favor.

"...I'm no expert on the matter, but that hardly sounds like an easy task?"

Just as Benedict said, receiving a transfer was no simple thing.

As I explained before, entering the Colosseum was considered an honor in and of itself within the Empire. Participants almost never surrendered their entry passes to anyone.

But that didn't mean there was no way. If some commoner wound up clutching a pass, it would cause no end of trouble for the nobles, wouldn't it?

The Empire's nobles had naturally foreseen this situation and slipped one more rule into the books.

So that they could easily pry passes from other people's hands.

I intended to exploit that very rule, just like I had in the game.

'Watch closely.'

"You just sit there and watch, useless dummy Papa. I'll handle everything myself."

Walking down the street without a shred of hesitation, I made my way to a tavern tucked into a back alley of Badronel Territory.

The moment I pushed open the door, a stale, sour stench rolled out. Nothing about the place suggested a destination for a noble heiress.

"Lucy. Are you quite sure this is the place?"

Answering Benedict's dubious question by simply striding forward, I absorbed the stares of every thug in the room as I crossed to the hulk of a man sprawled across two chairs by himself.

'Hello there.'

"Hey there, you stinking piece of trash."

"Who the hell are you, picking a fight?"

'The entry pass to the Colosseum. You have one, don't you?'

"You've got a Colosseum entry pass, don't you? Don't you?"

"..."

The hulk didn't answer my question. Instead, he glanced at the people behind me and furrowed his brow.

That expression told me everything. He definitely had the pass.

What a relief.

I was worried things might play out differently than in the game.

"I've decided to grace you with a very special opportunity to hand over your Colosseum entry pass♡ You'd just get flattened in your first bout and wet yourself anyway, so wouldn't it be better for everyone — pass included — if someone cuter, prettier, AND stronger than you went instead?♡"

With every sentence out of my mouth, his face curdled further — but he didn't get up from his seat.

"...What a load of crap. Crazy bitch."

Wow. And he managed to endure my earlier provocations with only that?

For all his size, this guy is quite the gentleman, isn't he?

But I had no intention of stopping here.

After all, getting my hands on that entry pass meant I had to fight him.

"Scared?♡ You're ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠really going to cower from a teeny tiny little girl like me?♡ Puhahaha♡ You look like a complete pervert, but I guess you're soft on the inside♡ It's so unnecessarily adorable my stomach is turning♡"

As I made exaggerated gagging motions, the hulk finally lost his grip on his rage. He snatched up a bottle and hurled it at me.

Needless to say, the bottle never reached me. A barrier of divinity sprang up before me first.

"Did that sting?♡ Angry that your embarrassing little secret got exposed?♡ Sorry~♡ My bad, I just wasn't paying attention♡ But what can I do♡ You're so revolting I feel like I'll throw up if I don't say it out loud♡"

"...You little brat!"

Leaping up from his seat, the hulk swung his fist straight at my face.

Perhaps because he was a resident of a fantasy world, his punch was actually quite fast and threatening.

Which is another way of saying that it was the only thing about him worth mentioning.

Clumsy footwork. A sloppily clenched fist. And a trash-tier attack thrown with zero thought for what would happen if it missed.

I dodged the punch with a light turn of my head, drove my fist up into the hulk's jutting chin, and as his brain rattled and his body pitched forward, I kicked him square in the gut and slammed him down into a table.

Judging by the way his eyes rolled back, he was definitely out cold.

What a bore. I'd at least hoped he'd last long enough to vent my earlier irritation.

The moment I trudged toward the fallen hulk, Benedict grabbed my shoulder.

"Er... Lucy?"

'What?'

"What is it, dummy Papa?"

"...Might I ask what it is you think you're doing right now?"

'Receiving a transfer of the entry pass?'

"Acquiring an entry pass this lout scarcely deserved?"

"Haah. Lucy."

Hearing my words, Benedict let out a long sigh, then took hold of my wrist in both his large hands.

And then, his gaze stern in a way it rarely was, he pressed me with a firm voice.

"However much you want to enter the Colosseum, you cannot simply intimidate it out of someone else. That is not an honorable thing to do."

Only then did I understand what misunderstanding Benedict had cooked up.

He thinks I was trying to rob the pass by brute force?!

It's not like that at all! This is literally a rule printed on the Colosseum entry pass!

If a fight breaks out by mutual agreement, or because the pass's owner strikes first, the winner claims all rights to the pass!

All I did was follow the rules!

This sort of thing happens on the streets every single day when the tournament season rolls around!

"Lucy. You are not the child you once were. You have power now, don't you?"

Benedict didn't believe a word of my explanation.

This is so unfair! For once in my life, I genuinely did nothing wrong!

Okay, it was a little underhanded, but it wasn't outright wrong!

What made it worse was that I could actually sympathize with why Benedict couldn't bring himself to believe me.

The karma I'd piled up over the years was nothing to sneeze at!

But that was the old Lucy! The current me doesn't go around causing trouble... uh. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Hmm.

I cause less trouble than before, anyway! I don't torment innocent people willy-nilly anymore!

Besides, if this were something truly awful, would I have dragged you along here? I'd have come alone!

"Um... pardon me for one moment, Count Aln."

Cutting off Benedict's lecture was one of the men in the tavern.

Nerves written plainly across his face, he endured both Benedict's and my stares, sweating all the while, but managed to push on.

"The young lady of House Aln is in the right. Your daughter did nothing wrong."

"...Pardon?"

"Ask anyone who lives in Badronel Territory and you'll get the same answer. The one at fault is whoever couldn't hold their tongue and threw the first punch."

Blinking, Benedict slowly surveyed the tavern's other patrons.

And they all bobbed their heads in agreement with the man's verdict.

"This man's got it right, Count Aln. If you weren't confident you'd win, you should've held out to the very end."

"That pass was wasted on him from the start, anyway."

"The young lady's right. If that lout actually entered the arena, all he'd do is lose miserably and soak himself."

"If your daughter's guilty of anything, it's knowing the Empire's customs a little too well."

"Hey, this guy too. Oi. Get up. How long are you gonna lie there?"

"...Uh. Huh? What? What happened?"

"You don't remember? You threw the first punch, and then you lost."

"No way. Seriously?! Shit. Dammit. And this time I was sure I'd finally make it into the arena!"

Even the freshly woken hulk, rather than crying foul, blamed his own idiocy first — and with my innocence thus proven beyond all doubt —

Benedict released his grip from my wrist and forced the corners of his mouth upward.

"Er... Lucy? You see, as you well know, I'm terribly ignorant of how things work in these parts."

'Mm-hm♡'

"A-and also, well, it's partly because you never explain things properly. As our Lucy is always saying — Papa is a dummy Papa, so if you don't tell him, he won't know."

'Mmm-hm?♡'

"Sooo... would you kindly forgive me, just this once?"

Face to face with Benedict's pleading eyes, I beamed a smile purer and brighter than any I'd ever worn.

"I hate you, Papa♡"