Translator: RaidenTL

Chapter 84: World's Best Partner Selection Tournament - Main Tournament (2)

Regardless of the era or location, people are all much the same.

Once they have a place to sleep, clothes to wear, and no longer have to worry about filling their bellies, they inevitably seek out entertainment.

A clash between the kings of other nations and the strongest warriors gathered from across the Empire.

The faces of those who had flocked to the Imperial Capital, Berlina, were all flushed with anticipation and excitement.

However, the face of Medir, who crawled through the darkness and shadows even in broad daylight, was filled with tension and anxiety.

Skitter, skitter...

Literally like a rat, Medir slid through a narrow, dust-filled passage.

As if the sewers filled with a damp stench and the crevices thick with acrid dust were his true stage.

After running through the darkness for a long time, Medir suddenly came to a halt.

His kin, his companions, and the rats he could command like his own limbs had appeared before him.

Squeak, squeak-squeak, squeak.

"Good, he's down there."

Medir pulled a few pieces of dried jerky from his robe and tossed them past the rats blocking his path.

Squeak, squeak...

The rats swarmed toward the jerky.

Immediately, a faint light that had been obscured by the rats leaked in from the floor.

Medir carefully felt the floor a few times before easily lifting a single tile.

He threw himself toward the person visible beyond the opening.

Click.

As soon as Medir landed soundlessly, the sound of a sword being unsheathed rang out.

Swallowing hard at the sound, Medir knelt before ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the man in front of him.

"I am glad to see you are safe, Your Excellency Loengram."

Because he bowed so low, Medir’s protruding nose nearly touched the floor.

However, the only response to his greeting was a cold, blue blade pressing against his neck.

Shring...

"Y-Your Excellency..."

"Do I look safe to your eyes?"

Medir, of course, knew why Loengram was being so threatening.

This man was once the strongest swordsman in the Empire, known as the Sword Saint.

Furthermore, as the head of the Imperial Knight Order, he was a man of such prestige that he could bring down a bird in flight with a single word.

'For such a man to fall overnight, it's only natural that his temper is frayed.'

The current Loengram looked more pathetic than Medir.

A shaggy, unkempt beard, long hair so ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠greasy it was matted, and eyes gleaming with madness...

Aside from the sword, an heirloom used by generations of Sword Saints, Loengram was in worse shape than the shabby armor he wore.

Before this Loengram, Medir set down a bottle wrapped in paper and a bundle of jerky.

"I do not know if it will suit your palate, but I have prepared some wine and meat."

"...Hmph."

Loengram irritably snatched the wine bottle and the jerky before collapsing onto a weathered stone chair.

Munch, munch, gulp, gulp...

As if he had forgotten all his past glory and dignity, the fallen Sword Saint greedily chewed the jerky and gulped down the wine.

Medir took another step toward him.

"As you may know, today is the day the main tournament begins. Your Excellency's first match..."

Crash!

A shard from the shattered wine bottle grazed Medir's cheek.

"Shut up."

"...Yes."

"Wine."

As if he had expected this, Medir pulled another bottle from his robe.

Loengram snatched the bottle without a hint of suspicion and chugged it.

"Phew..."

Perhaps his mood had softened slightly.

This time, Loengram set the bottle down without breaking it.

Toward Medir, who remained bowed, Loengram spoke first.

"Natalia. There's no mistake that bitch is my opponent, right?"

"That is correct."

"Heh, heh... Good. I can finally cut down that cow-like bitch with my own hands."

Medir said nothing.

Instead, he mentally reviewed the information he had already gathered.

'Natalia was certainly Loengram's ex-wife. But this fool thinks her divorce petition is what caused his downfall.'

In Medir's view, Natalia's divorce petition was merely the final period at the end of a sentence.

The moment the Sword Saint's own affairs, corruption, and the family's disgrace were exposed throughout the capital, Loengram's downfall was a foregone conclusion.

Therefore, Medir judged that the target of his hatred and revenge should be the person who spread those rumors. However...

"How should I kill her... Should I tear that vulgar body of hers to shreds? No, first I'll cut her Achilles tendons and make her kneel..."

Loengram was only obsessed with how to kill Natalia to feel satisfied, and where to cut her to cause the most pain.

'I didn't know the famous Sword Saint was just an overgrown child. Well, thanks to that, he's been very easy to manipulate.'

Medir reached into his robe once more.

Pulling out a bottle of the same size as before, Medir offered it to Loengram again.

"Would you like another drink, Your Highness?"

"You're disgusting to look at, but you're ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠quite good at reading the room."

Watching Loengram drain the bottle without a moment's hesitation, Medir wore a triumphant smile.

"I am glad it is to your liking."

"I have no choice but to drink even the wine of a lowly, filthy thing like you. So, tell me again. If I win the tournament, is it certain that I will become the King of Erin?"

"Yes, Your Highness. Is it not natural that the one who takes the Queen ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠into his arms becomes the King?"

"Hmm... Indeed. You lot are savages who value strength above all else. Hmph, King... Not bad. Even if the subjects are mere beasts."

King... Monarch... Muttering those words, Loengram drained the rest of the wine.

As if lost in his fantasies, Loengram began to chuckle, eventually breaking into a wide grin.

Medir prostrated himself lower than ever before and left him with one final word.

"I wish you luck in battle, Your Highness."

"Hahaha, yes. I really like that title. Hmm... But wait."

"Is something the matter...?"

"What do you gain if I win?"

"As I told you when I first sought you out, I have admired and respected Your Highness since I was a child. All I desire is to see Your Highness shine more brilliantly than ever before."

"Ha, a filthy, ugly wretch like you certainly has a way with words. Fine, I shall surely crush that Ardrin or whatever she is. I'm used to bedding women who aren't my type."

Having finished speaking, Loengram walked past Medir with a staggering gait.

Still kneeling, the thought that crossed Medir's mind as he watched that retreating back was...

'He's a fool, even more than I thought.'

Once Loengram had completely disappeared, Medir tucked the empty, poisoned wine bottles back into his robe.

*

As the brilliant midday sun beat down, the stadium shone even more radiantly.

Children clutching wooden swords with sparkling eyes, and adults beside them unable to hide their anticipation and excitement...

The faces of the spectators, filling not only the seats but even the stairs, seemed to sparkle as brightly as the sunlight.

"And thanks to you, we get to watch comfortably from such a great spot."

"Ahhh~ Darling~"

When I gently stroked her neck, Valeria leaped into my arms as if she had been waiting for the moment.

While the ordinary spectators were sizzling under the scorching sun, I was in the cool shade.

Furthermore, it was a perfect position where I could see the arena clearly even while lying down.

As long as one can enjoy it to the fullest, a class system is a fine civilization with far more advantages than disadvantages...

'Being so physically comfortable is making me have pathetic thoughts.'

Of course, I didn't want to deny the privileges I was given, so I called out to Helena, who was staring blankly at the arena.

"Helena."

"...Ah, yes. Young Master."

"Come here."

With a soft smile, Helena gracefully sat down beside me... but her gaze remained fixed on the still-empty arena.

Then, Valeria asked Helena.

"Hehe, are you worried about your sister?"

"Well... it would be a lie to say I'm not."

"Hmm, even though your sister is the famous Sword Princess Natalia?"

Helena gave a natural smile.

Because that's what family is.

Perhaps sensing the meaning behind that smile, Valeria's eyes turned a bit wistful.

Due to her status as the daughter of a Duke, she had never once felt the natural worry and concern of a family.

So... I found myself wrapping my hand around Valeria's.

"Darling..."

In times like this, hackneyed words aren't necessary.

It's enough to remind her that she isn't alone.

Just as the shadow over Valeria's face vanished, Sitri materialized, spreading her black wings wide.

"Hmm, it seems it's finally about to begin."

"Really?"

"Look over there. Andrasta is entering."

Where Sitri's finger pointed, I could see Andrasta entering the arena.

Leading the Fiona Warrior Band, who looked more gallant than ever, Andrasta took her seat in the place prepared for her.

Helena's gaze also turned toward Andrasta.

Then, Sitri wrapped her arms around Helena's neck and asked.

"Are you done worrying about your sister now?"

"It's not exactly that... but my eyes just keep drifting that way."

"Hehe, is that so? Then, do you think she can win?"

"That... hmm... well... her opponent is a complete unknown..."

As she said, Helena's opponent was that Andrasta.

According to the messenger who visited the finalists, the matchups were decided fairly by spinning a roulette...

But looking at the smoldering gaze Andrasta directed at Helena even from a distance, it was obvious to anyone.

"She probably picked them herself. In the order she wants to fight. Or rather, the order in which she made her promises."

I blew a wink at Andrasta, who was now looking at me.

Andrasta smirked and turned her head away.

Noticing that, Helena asked me.

"Young Master's opponent was that beastkin named Sreng, right?"

"Yeah. He's exactly as he looks, so there's nothing complex or difficult about him."

The problem was Natalia's opponent.

I didn't think for a second that Natalia would lose... but the fact that her opponent was an unknown still bothered me.

'I guess I'm still human after all...'

An unknown enemy is more concerning than the strongest foe who has never been defeated.

Not knowing an identity can pique interest, but it also invites fear.

While I was thinking that.

Finally, the proceedings... or more accurately, the booming voice of the stadium announcer echoed out.

"Thank you for waiting! We will now begin the main tournament of the World's Best Partner Selection Tournament!"

"Waaaaaaaah!!!"

"The first challenger to enter is the female swordsman everyone once knew! The Sword Princess who was loved by the blade more than anyone! Sword Princess Natalia!"

An immense cheer erupted, so loud I couldn't even hear Valeria right next to me.

At the same time, confetti fluttered everywhere.

People from all over the country were welcoming the return of their proud Sword Princess.

"She's beautiful~"

Natalia, smiling brightly amidst the thunderous cheers and the scattering confetti, was more beautiful than ever—so much so that an exclamation escaped my lips.

Of course, there are other times when she's at her most beautiful.

Anyway, Natalia stood on the right side of the arena.

Even so, amidst the continuing cheers and fluttering confetti, the announcer's voice rang out once more.

"The next challenger is a mysterious figure shrouded in... Huh? What? No way... Are you joking? What? R-Really? You're serious?"

"What is it? Why is he acting like that? Did something happen?"

"Y-You're saying it's really him? That... no matter how you look at it... A-Alright. Ha... phew..."

The cheers that had been directed at Natalia vanished like bubbles, replaced by uneasy murmurs and a growing commotion.

After a moment of silence, the announcer shouted in a voice filled with desperation, as if he had decided to just let whatever happens happen.

"T-The next opponent is...! Sword Saint Loengram Clausewitz!"

Everyone watching, even Natalia, gasped.

In that deathly silence, a disheveled Loengram trudged up onto the arena.

"...You."

"It's been a long time, honey. I've ended up in this state, while you seem to be living the high life."

"Judging by your tone, it sounds like you're saying it's all my fault."

"Yes! Because of you, I've become like this! If you, if you bitch hadn't done that...!"

Hmm... maybe I should have gone through the trouble of killing Loengram.

A bloody madness was visible in Loengram's eyes as he looked at Natalia, enough to make that thought cross my mind.

'Well, I suppose there's no need to worry.'

On the other hand, Natalia drew her sword without a moment's hesitation.

She showed neither hatred for the ex-husband who had trampled upon her, nor fear of the formidable opponent known as the Sword Saint.

In fact, it would be a lie to say she felt nothing...

Perhaps that's why Natalia shot back at Loengram with a mocking sneer.

"It seems you still haven't come to your senses. I suppose that's the kind of person you are, which is why your entire family collapsed overnight."

"You dog-like bitch...!"

"I never liked it. The fact that a man weaker than me received the name of Sword Saint."

"What? I-I'm weaker than you? Ha, haha, hahahaha!"

Natalia silently leveled her sword.

As if to show him today who the true Sword Saint really was.

Loengram also leveled his sword, so all that remained was the declaration of the start.

In place of the announcer, who was struggling to find his footing today, Sreng, who was beside Andrasta, shouted in a thunderous voice.

"Under no circumstances is killing your opponent allowed! Disqualification for anyone who does! Other than that, any means are permitted! Let the first match of the main tournament begin!"

In a silence devoid of cheers or shouts, Natalia and Loengram charged toward each other.