The Duel with Arthur (4)
"Um. Lady Alrn?"
I was in the middle of a break after yet another sparring session with Frey when one of the onlooker noble girls approached me and spoke up, careful and hesitant.
What is it, onlooker lady?
"Why? Onlooker Lady," I drawled.
"Are you sure it's okay to go in without ever having practiced our coordination even once?"
It flustered me a little, hearing the person who seemed least pleased about this whole affair bring up party synergy.
Why are you being so proactive about this?
Perhaps she caught my puzzled look, because the onlooker lady let out a sigh.
"I doubt a haughty lady like you, or Lady Kent, would have heard, but this duel is the talk of the entire Academy."
According to her, my duel with Arthur had become far bigger news than I'd imagined.
The showdown between the Third Prince, praised as a genius since birth, and the Alrn bloodline daughter who'd beaten him for first place on the entrance exams — that was the story everyone was telling.
"It's spread so wide that people are even running bets on it."
Gambling, huh.
There was only one character who'd pull a stunt like that.
Seth — the son of a merchant heir running a massive trading guild.
The betting pools he ran were trustworthy, at least.
The guy was always going around shouting that trust was a merchant's most important asset, after all.
What are the odds like...
"What are the odds?"
"That's hardly what matters right now, is it?"
It matters a lot.
"Onlooker Lady. It's not some scrub like you who decides what matters, it's me. Answer."
"...One-point-one to ten."
I didn't need to ask which side was the 1.1.
Obviously Arthur's.
Going by the rumors circulating among the students, his party was practically an all-star lineup of the best first-years.
Jackal on the vanguard.
Arthur, who could cover both vanguard and rearguard.
And even Matthew — a priest of historic, generation-defining talent, though he was being overshadowed and ignored thanks to Phoebe.
It was such open, public knowledge that those three had been preparing together for Saturday that even a loner like me had heard about it.
And what about me, by comparison?
It was questionable whether I'd even assembled a proper party.
Practice for clearing the dungeon?
I hadn't done that a single time.
So which way would public confidence flow? It wasn't hard to guess.
Still, weren't the odds a little steep?
It's not like I've shown nothing at all.
I proved I had talent by taking first place in the Academy entrance exams.
And on top of that, I proved I had combat strength by sparring with Frey, didn't I?
My party members weren't exactly far behind either — me and Frey alone were nothing to sneeze at. So why was it a ten?
Well, free money is free money, so I'll take it.
I should have Karl place a bet with Seth later.
The limit was definitely ten gold coins per person.
Even that alone would be a hundred gold coins.
Haaah. So sweet it's going to rot my teeth.
"In any case, this duel is a matter of interest for the whole Academy right now. If you lose with a humiliating result, who knows what people will say."
What a completely pointless thing to worry about.
Why would I lose, exactly?
"Scaredy-scrub Lady. Why are you planning to lose? Is defeatism baked so deep into your bones that you just accept it, onlooker?"
"How can you even think about winning! No matter how strong Lady Kent and Lady Alrn are physically, a dungeon isn't decided by force alone!"
The onlooker lady had a point. Partially.
Clearing a dungeon is never determined by raw strength alone.
It's true that power makes things easier, but knowledge of the dungeon matters far more.
But the onlooker lady was missing one thing.
Onlooker Lady...
"Onlooker. If I were nothing but a musclebrained idiot, how would I have taken first place on the Academy entrance exams?"
"That was... compensation for the past incident... right?"
Ah-ha. So that's what ordinary people think?
So no one believes a train wreck like me could have legitimately taken first place on the entrance exams?
Come to think of it, "she cheated her way to first place" is a lot more convincing than "a lifetime delinquent turned her life around in a single year."
No wonder the odds were so steep.
Trust in me had cratered to rock bottom, which is why even dragging Frey in only got me this far.
Watching the onlooker lady fumble her words and steal glances at my face, a sigh escaped me of its own accord.
Originally I'd planned to give her a few words right before we entered the dungeon and be done with it, but maybe I should explain things a little in advance.
Excuse me.
"Onlooker. Are you free today?"
"Huh? Yes!"
Wait a moment...
"Wait here for a bit."
After telling the onlooker lady that, I walked over to Frey.
When I told her I had things to discuss about tomorrow's dungeon run, Frey asked why we'd even need a strategy.
"Can't we just cut everything down?"
It was a statement so absurd it went past exasperating and made me question whether the person opposite me even had a brain.
If an ordinary person had said it, I might have assumed they were just confident in their skills.
But when it came to Frey, that wasn't the case.
This girl genuinely thought this way — and then actually acted on it.
Left to her own devices, she'd charge straight at the enemies on her own whim, exactly like she used to in the game, and ruin the whole dungeon run.
But it was fine.
I had a way to keep Frey's leash more or less in hand.
Frey...
"Scrub swordswoman. I'm the leader of this dungeon run. Not you, you idiot."
"Yeah. I know."
You have to follow my instructions.
"You follow my judgment, not the instincts of your beast of a brain. Got it?"
"Why?"
Frey tilted her head at my words.
There it is. Knew that was coming.
Back when I was first raising Frey's affection in the game, this exact question — this why — cost me no end of headaches.
You must never answer it with logic.
Because Frey has already decided her answer deep inside her own heart.
To convince her, you had to pick one of two options: craft a response tailored to her worldview, or match her stubbornness with stubbornness of your own.
This time, I chose the latter.
Otherwise I won't spar with you anymore.
"Do that, and I'm never sparring with a scrub like you again."
Frey seemed oddly attached to sparring with me.
Under normal circumstances she wouldn't show interest in anyone until a decent amount of affection had built up, yet here she was seeking me out.
Then again, she only ever came to find me for sparring, so it didn't really seem like her affection had grown at all.
I didn't know the reason, but either way, there was a lever I could pull — so pull it I would.
At my flat refusal to spar any longer, Frey's eyes went wide.
"Why? You promised you'd keep sparring with me."
That was...
"That was back when I skinned the Pitiable Prince alive."
Frey rolled her eyes around as she thought it over, then nodded.
"Okay."
She'd accepted it, so from here on she'd restrain herself.
Her nature was what it was, so something was bound to slip out now and then, but it would stay at a predictable level.
And at that level, Frey remained a variable I could sufficiently control.
Having secured Frey's agreement, I took her and the onlooker lady back to my dormitory.
And there, showing them the various supplies I'd prepared, I laid out my plan.
"...I'm going to have to tell my friend to bet against you."
After hearing every last word of it, that was all the onlooker lady had to say.
The day of the match.
Arthur had come out to one corner of the training grounds early in the morning to loosen up.
From the moment they set foot in the dungeon, a grueling march would begin — one with no rest for even a single hour.
He needed to warm his body beforehand.
"You're out here early, Your Highness, Third Prince."
Arthur, in the midst of his exercise, turned at the voice calling for him.
Standing there was Jackal Burrow, a spear resting against his shoulder.
"That seems a bit excessive for a mere warm-up, doesn't it?"
"My body, my business. I know it best."
"Of course, I expected you to say that. I only wondered whether you might be... provoked, by what's going on over there."
Jackal gestured with his eyes toward where Lucy Alrn and Frey Kent stood.
The two of them, who sparred every morning and evening with murderous intent as if trying to kill each other, were at it again even on the day of the match itself.
It looked serious enough that one might wonder whether one of them would end up badly injured, handing Arthur a win by forfeit.
"Would a human let a beast's fight rattle him?"
"Haha. Fair enough."
You think I'd get nervous over the sight of that madwoman? Not a chance.
Arthur cut off Jackal's suspicion with a firm shake of his head.
There was no reason to be affected.
Because today's victory was, for all practical purposes, already decided.
The surface-level comparison alone made that plain.
Lucy Alrn was one thing, fine.
But Frey Kent was a beast who listened to no one, armed with nothing but raw strength.
And their one other party member was an ordinary student who'd only joined the party because Lucy Alrn had coerced them into it.
His side, by contrast, had promising talents ranked second and third on the entrance exams — plus Matthew, a priest whose future seat among the cardinals was all but assured.
The gap in strength was unmistakable.
Clear enough to declare victory on that basis alone.
Yet Arthur had not settled for this.
He had gathered information about the Academy Dungeon from students returning from its depths.
How the interior was structured.
What kind of maps the floors followed.
What supplies to bring.
Even methods of clearing it.
All of it.
The students were still stuck around Floor 30, so the intelligence only went that deep — but that was no problem.
Because Lucy Alrn was arrogant.
She had made no preparations whatsoever for the dungeon.
Not even the bare minimum effort of finding out how it was laid out.
No stockpiling of the various supplies needed for a proper clear.
She hadn't even thought of gathering her party members to practice their coordination.
As if she could beat Arthur effortlessly without bothering with any of it.
Did she believe that because she possessed such overwhelming talent she could surpass everyone within a single year, she had no need for such preparations?
Arrogant and reckless. Lucy Alrn.
Did she really think she could beat him that way?
He wouldn't deny that she was a genius.
She might even shatter his expectations and push past Floor 30.
But it wouldn't matter.
Because she had made no preparations for defeat.
And if the day comes that you shatter all expectations — then.
Maybe it was because I'd told her yesterday that a bad result meant no more sparring.
But Frey was pressing me with unusual ferocity today.
We hadn't even entered the dungeon yet, and I already felt completely drained.
I washed up lightly, finished my preparations for the dungeon, and stepped outside — to find someone waiting for me.
"Young Miss."
"Lady Alrn."
Karl and Joy were standing together in front of the dormitory.
Karl was fine — he was entering the dungeon with me today, after all. But why was Joy here?
The moment Joy saw my face, a sigh came out of her first.
"Do you actually think things through, or don't you?"
Eh? Why is the nagging starting all of a sudden?
Isn't this our first proper chat in ages?
"You confidently challenge the Third Prince to a duel, and then you don't prepare at all? How does that make sense?"
Seeing Joy frown in sheer exasperation, I realized she'd come here out of worry for me.
Of course she did. She really is a good person.
"Here — everything revealed so far about the Academy Dungeon. And this too."
Joy...
"Airhead Lady. You think I need this stuff?"
I've already got everything I need prepared.
"Lady Alrn. You haven't prepared anything. If it's your pride, then throw it away."
I have prepared.
"You think I'm as much of an airhead as you? My preparations for winning were finished ages ago."
I had no idea what preparations Arthur had made, but it didn't matter.
I wasn't incompetent enough to get played by an NPC.
We'll come back victorious.
"I'll win and come back, so just sit tight and watch. Airhead Lady."