Next Level
Every academy student taking private lessons from Rai had been eliminated from the Martial Arts Tournament.
Zeroa reaching Round 4 was the greatest achievement of the bunch. Abigail and Aslan had made it as far as Round 3, and though Philia had won her way through the first-round losers' bracket, she'd fallen in the second-round losers' bracket match.
They hadn't posted impressive results, but neither the academy students nor even the instructors who disliked Rai mocked him for it. Zeroa had climbed far higher than anyone expected, and as for Aslan, the consensus was that drawing Violet had simply been unfortunate. Philia hadn't seemed concerned with ranking at all, focusing instead on applying her newly learned swordsmanship in actual combat, and Abigail hadn't even brought a weapon.
People didn't know the detailed reasons, but even from what showed on the surface, they could tell the four had treated the Martial Arts Tournament as training.
"Zeroa made it the farthest, so I guess that makes him the strongest after all."
At Rai's words, Aslan, Abigail, and even Philia all turned to glare at him. Clustered together in the spectator seats to watch the tournament, Zeroa glanced nervously between the three of them, looking thoroughly embarrassed as they stared with fierce, bulging eyes.
"Once I fully master the swordsmanship, I won't lose next time."
"If I'd just picked up a sword, I wouldn't have lost."
Everyone had something to say except Aslan, who had charged Violet head-on and lost spectacularly. Their pride wouldn't allow them to excuse themselves by saying they'd simply run into the strongest opponent. At the same time, none of them was willing to surrender the conviction that they were the strongest of the four.
Aslan wanted to speak, but he couldn't think of the right words, so he just silently glared at Rai.
"Haha... Instructor Rai was helping me from the sidelines, so... that wasn't really my skill."
When Zeroa said this with an awkward laugh, all three heads snapped around to glare at him. Timid as he was, Zeroa couldn't understand why they were angry at him — but for the person who'd ranked highest to say something like that was, to these prideful three, nothing short of a taunt.
Once the field is narrowed to 128, it's typically called the main tournament. From that point on there are no consecutive matches; they compete once every day or two to determine who advances. There's no second chance if you lose — a true contest of steel where you must win to move forward.
Even after the four of them had been eliminated, the Martial Arts Tournament had continued, and by now the field had been narrowed to the Round of 16.
Among the 1st Year Cadets, only three had made it that far.
Violet, Sozeta, and Diana.
All three were already famous within the academy for their skill, so it was only to be expected. Violet and Sozeta were regarded as prodigies who might appear once in a thousand years, and while Diana didn't quite reach those two, she possessed such tremendous talent that she was called the hope of House Deschubella. It was only because the first two were so famous that she was pushed to third; Diana herself was a prodigy whose name would be the first called anywhere else.
Aria had been eliminated in the Round of 32 after drawing Violet. Ever since Zeroa had fought her with everything he had, academy students had stopped running from matches against her, and Aria had climbed the bracket by winning cleanly on her own merit. She'd put on a good match against Violet as well, but unfortunately she couldn't close the gap in skill, and she fell in the Round of 32.
The person drawing the most attention in the Martial Arts Tournament right now was Violet. Her bracket luck had been terrible — she'd only drawn championship favorites — and she'd beaten them one after another on her way up. In the Round of 128 she'd defeated a 4th Year Senior who had been a leading championship contender, and in the Round of 64 she'd eliminated yet another favorite. At this point, perhaps it wasn't her bracket luck that had been bad, but her opponents'.
Even as a prodigy, this was an age of rapid growth, and skill differed enormously from year to year, so academy students who had thought the championship was still beyond her now had their eyes locked on Violet.
The silver-haired girl standing on the stage with an indifferent face, unmoved by the crowd's attention, looked at her opponent.
Her Round of 16 opponent was Diana Deschubella. Though her name was overshadowed by Violet and Sozeta, she too possessed skill that could not be ignored.
"Hi, Violet. Let's have some fun."
Diana, wearing a bright, radiant smile that contrasted with Violet's expressionless face, drew her sword. Unusually, she carried four weapons. Three swords and one axe hung from her waist down to her hips, and each sword differed in thickness and length. As if showing off her ability to use any weapon at all, she had employed a variety of arms throughout her climb in the tournament. Maces, axes, swords, spears — she'd handled every weapon at a high level and won match after match, and for the bout against Violet she'd brought an unusual combination.
"Yeah, okay."
In a calm voice, Violet drew an ordinary longsword, then — in contrast to the quiet atmosphere — pulled forth a tremendous aura and clashed with Diana.
A match unfolded that left the spectators in awe, and Zeroa, who'd been watching in a daze, murmured as if to himself.
"Amazing... is Miss Diana a genius?"
Zeroa had praised Diana rather than Violet. Violet, nicknamed the sword idiot, trained only with the blade. She had no use for anything else, so thoroughly absorbed in the sword that her scores in subjects like tactics were a disaster. Instead, she swung her sword every day, practicing, and she enjoyed swinging it. She trained so relentlessly that even the academy students watching from the sidelines would nod along, thinking, ah, that's what it takes to get that good. Every student knew that beneath the title of a Genius of a Thousand Years lay an enormous amount of practice.
But Diana was different. In all her time at the academy, she hadn't set foot in the practice grounds even once. She never skipped lectures, but whenever an instructor assigned extra training at their discretion, she always slipped away in secret. She was always in the thick of a crowd, either out having fun or helping other students with their little problems — busy with other things. And yet she topped every grade. In every lecture the 1st Year Cadets took, she contended for first or second place, and she posted excellent results in large-scale exercises like Tactical Training. It wasn't just personal combat power — seeing how versatile she was, some even evaluated her as a commander who could succeed Edelian.
The problem was that she didn't put in any effort...
The Effortless Genius, Diana, was showing skill on par with Violet. She was pressing Violet by switching swords at just the right moments, and the spectacle of her snatching up weapons she'd scattered through the air like a spray of petals and turning them into attacks was drawing every eye.
Philia didn't say anything, but she agreed with Zeroa's assessment. When they'd fought the assassins who'd attacked Emilia, they might have died without her. Even after exhausting a considerable amount of mana breaking through a large-scale barrier by herself, she'd taken on the assassins' leader alone and thrown their formation into chaos — her help had been enormous.
"That's a genius? No way."
But Rai, looking thoroughly unimpressed, disagreed. Aslan, who hadn't expected him to say something like that while watching Diana actually press Violet, couldn't even think of a retort and just stared at him blankly. Abigail, equally unable to understand, scowled at him, and everyone around them looked his way.
"Then if that's not a genius, what is it? Even I can tell it's incredible, and I don't have an eye for this stuff."
Cesset, speaking on behalf of the speechless academy students, asked, and Rai snorted a laugh.
"If that's how it looks to you, that's just as far as your own skill goes. I don't feel like arguing. It's personal."
Cesset, not understanding why personal matters would come up when talking about someone else's talent, tilted her head and was about to ask again when her maid, Rin, caught her by the shoulder and stopped her. Seeing Rin silently shake her head, Cesset thought it over for a moment, then shut her mouth.
Warriors, surprisingly, hide a great deal. Their techniques and secret arts are secrets not to be shared with others, and they conceal everything they can — unique training methods, personal habits, and so on. Even trivial details can decide life or death in a match, so they hide anything that could become a weakness as thoroughly as possible. Once Rai had called it personal, it wasn't something to press.
"More importantly — are you all satisfied with where you are right now?"
"Of course we're not."
"A guy with complaints fought like that? I told you to think, and you went and yanked your brain out entirely before charging in."
At Rai's scolding, Aslan shut his mouth. Bewitched by Violet's fighting spirit, he hadn't thought about what came after and had charged in at full power. He didn't regret it, but he hadn't met Rai's requirements.
"And what? You asked what I hate? I hate goddamn bell peppers too, you idiot."
"Don't say that..."
"Don't say that?! I've never seen a guy who just comes right out and asks the enemy to tell him their weaknesses. Like hell I'd tell you. The knowledge is already stuck in that head of yours, so pull it out and use it. From now on, treat every person you meet as an enemy and think about how you'd fight them. Got it?"
"...Fine. I got it."
Aslan answered reluctantly, giving a small nod.
"And Abigail."
Now the target, Abigail looked at Rai without a word.
"If you're going to fight like that, just quit. Don't even think about fighting anyone."
"Anyone who doesn't value their own body dies fast. Die, and there are no more chances. You have to survive to the end to get a chance at all."
At the word chance, yesterday's conversation about revenge seemed to surface, and Abigail bristled.
"But—"
"But— it was a practice sword, so it's fine, right? Did you know that sword broke your ribs? If it'd gone into your lung, we'd have had to operate and force-heal you."
At Rai's words, Abigail felt along her side. She didn't know it, but Rai had treated her while she was unconscious, which was why her body was functioning normally. Otherwise she still wouldn't even have been walking properly. Abigail, who'd simply assumed the academy had treated her, shut her mouth and listened.
"A practice sword is for practicing. Pick up the habit of thinking it's fine to get hit, and you'll go down in one shot. Nothing is more precious to a warrior than their own body. Legendary swords, whatever else — throw them all away. Just don't throw away your own body."
"Got it."
Abigail answered quietly, like Aslan, and grew subdued.
Having sunk two of them, Rai looked at Philia, who had composed herself and was ready to listen calmly.
"You're a bit of a disappointment."
She'd steeled herself after watching the first two, but at the word disappointment, Philia's heart dropped. She'd resolved not to be discouraged no matter what he said, but she was already shaken from the opening, and she bit her lip waiting for Rai's words.
"I thought you were cooler-headed than the others, but did your competitive streak take over your brain? Whatever you had going on with that guy, wasn't your greatest strength calm situational judgment? It looked like you fought well, but you fell for the provocation hook, line, and sinker. Did you hate losing that much?"
"...Yes. I didn't want to lose."
Philia, who could lose to anyone else but refused to lose to Gilbard, honestly spoke her feelings. Rai looked steadily into her unwavering eyes, then smiled faintly and shook his head.
"Yeah, I've been there plenty of times myself, so let's leave it at that. But make sure you remember it wasn't a good thing."
"I understand."
Once Philia had been scolded too, Zeroa, the last batter, waited his turn trembling. They say it's better to take the beating first — the three who'd thought they'd done well in the tournament had all gotten chewed out, and now he was filled with dread about how he'd be scolded. Zeroa, who'd been pretending not to notice by keeping his eyes fixed on the stage while the three were being lectured, sneaked a glance at Rai, and their eyes met.
"You felt the joy of winning, didn't you?"
"...Huh?"
"You felt it in Round 3. That thrill like your guts were about to burst."
It hadn't been quite as Rai described it, but Zeroa had definitely felt the pleasure of victory, and recalling his memories from before he'd passed out, he quietly nodded.
"I... think so."
"Don't forget that feeling. You need to have a bit more confidence."
"Yes, sir. I understand."
As Rai smiled and slapped his back, Zeroa thought it felt similar to that sensation from before. The impact was so electric he twisted away, but Rai didn't stop, and kept hitting him.
"Hey, why are you only nice to Zeroa? That's discrimination!"
"It's not time for him to get scolded yet. He's just learning how to walk — you can't yell at someone for not being able to walk yet."
When Cesset asked playfully, Rai laughed as he delivered a cruel truth. Zeroa, who'd done well in the Martial Arts Tournament but still had a long way to go, smiled bitterly.
"Focus on the stage. Next year, that'll be you up there."
At Rai's words, the four who'd been sitting dejected turned their eyes to the stage. Cesset, sitting beside them, watched the four concentrating on the stage and quietly smiled. No matter what anyone said, these were immensely talented academy students, and watching them focus with such serious faces made her want to eat them up — they were that cool.
"Ah, except Zeroa."
At Rai's unnecessary truth, Zeroa's face immediately crumpled.