...Aren't We Departing?
...Aren't We Departing?
The youngest of the Four Siblings, Igor, sat in the waiting room. Even with him just sitting there breathing quietly, that enormous frame was impossible to miss.
"By my standards, it was nothing special."
Igor muttered under his breath.
"What exactly are your standards?"
The third sibling, Cassel, leaned sideways against the wall and picked up the muttered words.
"If I ran into him, I could just beat the hell out of him. He's got no manners whatsoever. Looks like a bastard who'd snap if I folded him in half."
"Since when do you pick and choose which mages to hit?"
"And what if I don't?"
Igor's voice rose, sharp as a thorn. Cassel's brow furrowed slightly too.
"...Igor, why are you taking this out on me, anyway?"
"Do you look like someone who wouldn't piss me off? You saw that bastard's attitude in the conference room. Should've just slit his throat right then and there...."
Veins were already bulging on Igor's forehead as he muttered.
When he'd first heard they'd received a special pardon on the condition of competing in the preliminary round, he'd been in a fine mood—but the moment he saw Plan's attitude in the conference room, his mood flipped entirely.
Right now, he was walking a razor-thin tightrope between reason and instinct.
That was when it happened.
"I don't like it."
Ela, who had been sitting still this whole time, opened her mouth. Igor brightened and asked.
"Right? You see it too, don't you, Ela?"
"I'm talking about you. Sit still."
"...."
The Four Siblings of the Knight Department had gathered together.
Those who had been excluded due to disciplinary action could now compete in the preliminaries as originally planned—at a glance, it looked like a situation that couldn't be better.
...That, in fact, was precisely what was grating on Ela's nerves.
"Just what kind of confidence does it take...."
The fact that three of their opponents' representatives had been urgently replaced. From the Magic Department's standpoint, it must have been cause for rejoicing.
But Plan had rejected that "luck" as if he were flaunting it.
One could only act that way from absolute certainty of victory.
The two sides weren't even in the same year to begin with. And yet, that he harbored such thoughts, that he acted that way—to Ela, nothing could be more infuriating.
Cassel, eyeing Ela's mood carefully, spoke up.
"Ela, don't let it get to you."
"What."
"In the end, what matters is the result. No matter how flashy you make the outside look, if you lose, the ridicule is just as big, isn't it?"
Shrugging, Cassel continued.
"We just have to win, don't we?"
"That's not wrong. But."
Ela rose slowly from her seat.
"Winning the usual way isn't going to cut it."
Even with her eyes closed, her siblings felt as though Ela was looking down upon them.
"That bastard's got a clever side to him."
"...?"
The remaining siblings tilted their heads. Clever... surely she didn't mean him.
Cassel spoke.
"Clever? You mean that Plan guy?"
"Yeah."
Finally, Igor slammed the wall—CRASH—and cut in.
"Give him to me. I'll crack his skull open."
An entire wall of the waiting room collapsed, but Ela continued, unfazed.
"You all think so shallowly. Like children."
"...?"
Confusion spread across the other three faces.
"Plan rang the bell fast. You saw it too."
"Yeah."
"He cut off every advantage we could have gained. Why he went underground for three days, what he did after taking Ivan, why he made those kinds of remarks... he made sure none of those questions or answers got recorded."
Ela fiddled with her sword as she continued.
"And looking at the Chancellor's face, there was a fair bit of trust directed at him. But it's not just the Chancellor—you saw all those mages wandering around this morning, right?"
"Saw them. Annoying, so I beat a few of them up."
As if it were a badge of honor, Cassel raised his handcuffed hands.
Ela asked him.
"If you saw it, do you get why I called him clever?"
"...I don't know about that. That he's got the worst attitude in history?"
"This bastard knows exactly how to make people pay attention. That's what makes him clever."
Igor, who had been fuming, scrunched his face up even more.
"Yeah. So what's so great about that? A little rat like that, you just crush him and it's over...."
"...Igor."
Ela spoke Igor's name aloud.
Her hand was clenched tight as she said it. She, too, was desperately holding herself back in her own way.
"Haaaaah."
In the end, Igor turned his head aside slightly.
"Looking at the Magic Department's track record in the subjugation festivals so far, them having zero interest in the Magic Sword Grand Festival would be normal. And yet, the excitement is this heated right now."
"...Mm."
Cassel tilted his head.
"Still, in the end, isn't Igor right? If we win, that attention will cool off on its own, won't it?"
"The fact that they're paying attention, in itself, is dangerous, you idiot."
Ela jabbed Cassel in the chest with the pommel of her sword.
"The very possibility that they watch with interest and start harboring hope—that alone is unacceptable. We cut it off at the root. Understood?"
"Ahh. Yeah, I kinda get what you're saying now."
Cassel nodded.
"Then, since you're so brilliant, you tell us. To cut it off at the root... how badly do we need to stomp them down?"
"No, I'll ask the questions."
A merciless killing intent flickered over Ela's body.
She asked the three of them in a low voice.
"Among us... there's no one scared of a little disciplinary action, right?"
◈
I hadn't simply spent my time teaching three people inside the World Within the Painting. I had sought to resolve the issue of total mana capacity, and to that end, I had devoted myself diligently.
[ Master, haven't we gotten rather close? ]
Such was the result. My total mana had increased in earnest, and my attunement with Hera had also risen dramatically.
Like this, many of the factors I had found stifling were now being resolved at a rapid pace.
And at last, we stood in the Knight Department's arena.
The preliminary round was about to begin.
But just then.
"Eep!"
With a thud, Becky landed on her backside. Looking at the situation, it seemed a Knight Department representative had shoved her.
"What, you were there? So tiny I didn't notice."
Igor.
That was what his knight cadet nameplate read. I deliberately chose not to involve myself in the situation.
For the current Becky... she needed to go through the process of getting used to this kind of psychological warfare.
But Louis flared up and stepped forward. He blocked Igor's path.
"Hey, you shoved her on purpose just now."
"If it was on purpose, she'd be dead. What, you think this is a joke?"
"You...."
"Attention, everyone."
While the two men stood in tense confrontation, a solid voice cut between them. It was the regular knight overseeing the proceedings.
"...Save the fighting for when the match starts. Especially you, Igor."
He naturally inserted himself between them, creating distance between the two teams' representatives.
While the glaring contest between Louis and Igor continued, the regular knight spoke again.
"Safety check. I trust you've all been issued your Return Stones."
He began inspecting the representatives' safety, while I closely examined the arena itself. My interest lay there.
First of all, the height difference between the arena floor and the spectator stands was immense.
The arena was about three times the size of the one used for the combat event, and the spectators were positioned high above, able to take in both teams at a single glance.
In other words, it was a venue designed purely for the spectators' entertainment.
The murmur of voices kept pouring down from above, but I didn't bother lifting my head to look.
I don't permit myself to look up at anyone.
'They put a fair amount of work into this.'
My attention was directed downward instead. Countless formulas breathing and alive deep beneath the dirt floor... this arena clearly possessed a multitude of effects.
"...Why didn't they put something like this in the Magic Department."
Just as I was about to segment a few of the formulas—
"Hey. You."
The regular knight inspecting me had a sharp look in his eyes. I pulled myself out of my musings and frowned in regret.
"Return Stone. Did you bring it?"
The gazes of our representatives, as well as the Knight Department representatives, turned toward me. I answered coolly.
"No need. Something like that."
I produced the written oath from inside my coat. It was a rather radical document, stating that I accepted losing my life in the preliminaries as permissible.
Clearly possible, yet a method no one actually adopts. I had deliberately sought this out and adopted it.
My faith in myself was part of it, certainly, but these trivial little facts—each and every one—would later turn each department upside down.
"...You're being reckless."
The regular knight accepted the oath with a scoffing laugh.
With my inspection finished, the arena's ceiling was overlaid with a mirror-like surface, making the spectators' seats impossible to observe.
'...One-way transparency.'
The spectators would still be able to watch us. Was it consideration for the competitors, or an element for the viewers' entertainment?
At the same time, several sheets of paper folded into the shape of sparrows took flight through the air. Examining them, their essence was that of Record Scrolls.
Those would relay the situation to the people waiting outside the arena. I felt anew that this event was on an entirely different scale from the first discipline.
"I will now explain the preliminary round format."
The regular knight spoke with solemnity.
"In ten minutes, the arena will be split into two zones."
Randomized. At those words, Becky beside me gulped.
"The format is simple. Demon Beasts will appear in stages, and defeating them will award points according to their grade."
His explanation continued for a while.
It was lengthy, but the gist was simple.
The hunting points would be tallied to rank each team, and the Demon Beasts would grow progressively stronger by stage, appearing in each team's zone.
Of course, combat between representatives was also permitted during this process.
"From the 5th stage onward, combat between representatives is permitted... but keep it moderate. Understood? Moderate."
The regular knight's gaze turned toward the Four Siblings. The knight whose nameplate read "Cassel" shrugged as he answered.
"Yeah, got it. Why do you keep looking this way when you say that?"
"Don't ask if you don't know. Remember that you four are on special pardon. Do nothing to disgrace the dignity of knights."
"Yeah, yeah."
This clause was emphasized twice more after that, directed at the Four Siblings. It wasn't difficult to guess what kind of conduct they'd shown on a regular basis.
The regular knight extended a bracelet toward me. And toward Ela as well.
"Now, regarding the exception clause. If you seize the opposing team leader's bracelet without inflicting any injury whatsoever, it will be tallied as 300 points."
A preposterous number of points, but the general atmosphere was one of letting it go in one ear and out the other.
Seize the bracelet without inflicting injury.
That part was likely deemed impossible. I, however, was rather intrigued.
"Lastly, withdrawing midway is not permitted. Either hide well until the match ends, or deliberately get your head smashed in by a Demon Beast and get returned."
The explanation concluded like that.
Without exchanging a single word with the opposing representatives, we split off to the east side and west side of the arena.
"I-is this really happening? Why am I standing in an arena? Huh?"
As we walked, the sound of restless anxiety reached my ears. It was Becky.
"Stop making stupid noises."
"Trixie... aren't you nervous?"
At that, indigo eyes turned toward Becky. Trixie asked, her voice low.
"You. So when are you going to talk?"
"Huh? Ah. I told you, I just misspoke."
"You're not saying you don't know. The Agora Board."
"...Uh."
Becky started sweating profusely. She couldn't meet Trixie's eyes.
"I-I'll tell you. I'll tell you~"
"Tell me."
"If we pass the preliminaries in first place, then I'll really tell you. Okay?"
"...."
Trixie looked at Becky with an expression that said "are you out of your mind," then let out a deep sigh.
"Forget it."
The two girls walked ahead, chattering about something I couldn't begin to fathom. I asked them calmly.
"You two... what's all the noise about."
Becky glanced back, then hastily waved her hands.
"Huh, huh? No, it's nothing! I'm just nervous about the preliminaries!"
"Nervous, you say."
─The preliminary round begins now.
Without even a moment to say anything further, the preliminaries started. I quietly admired the rapidly transforming arena for a moment, without a word.
Malleability, Harmonization, Manipulation... it was a fascinating change. I didn't miss a single one of its movements.
Living flowers and trees sprouted to form a forest, and an immensely thick line was drawn across the floor, splitting the arena into two zones.
Even the weather inverted.
As if to encourage the competitors, a soft cluster of light descended gently from the mirrored ceiling.
The very concept of an "arena" had long been transcended—this was a realm approaching actual relocation to another place entirely.
Amidst it, I felt the presence of the Magic Department Chancellor, Conet, thick in the air.
─Stage 1 begins.
"Plan."
Once the scenery settled, Louis called my name. The other two also had their gazes fixed on me.
"Give us orders. What should we do first?"
I quietly took a nearby sapling as material. I manipulated its stem at will and completed a chair.
I sat down calmly upon it and pulled out paper and a pen.
"Begin hunting. You've all memorized the preliminary round rules, I take it."
"Mm, I need more specific orders. Like how to divide up the roles. You're the team leader."
"Figure it out yourselves. I'll grade you from here."
And, I added one more thing.
"You'd do well to discard any half-hearted resolve. If we aren't advancing to the main tournament in first place... I will gladly forfeit."
A moment of silence passed.
"...."
The three of them stared at me somewhat blankly.
They exchanged glances among themselves.
Then looked back at me intently.
I frowned and said one thing.
"...Aren't you leaving?"