Incredible! I Agree!
Incredible! I agree! After everything was over, the only thing I felt was that the bridge in my memory had been severed. What the hell had happened? The opposing magician had definitely raised his staff, and I had felt the flow of mana. Just before he cast the spell, I had gone against the mana and cut off its flow. Yes. Up to that point, it had gone exactly as I intended. My consciousness was completely under my control. Now I just had to calmly assess the situation and gradually seize the advantage by matching my opponent's movements. But at that exact moment, my body lunged forward. It was a motion completely opposite to my will. The speed accelerated so suddenly that I couldn't even register what kind of movement I'd made. My vision darted around in chaos, and once the acceleration began, it dragged my body along with no resistance whatsoever. A moment later my sight stabilized, but the action had already ended some time ago.
The silence didn't last long. A massive roar immediately erupted throughout the entire arena.
Even with the cheers echoing from afar, I couldn't relax and celebrate. My head was too tangled. Still, the moment I withdrew my axe, the opposing gladiator let out a ragged breath.
"How the hell did the Stay fighter pull that off?"
"Oh! Incredible!"
"At first the Stay fighter looked comparatively frail, didn't he?"
"I agree!"
"But the instant a gap appeared—he attacked with blinding speed!"
"Yes~ Incredible!"
"Heh... heh... How did you do that?"
He stared at me, disbelief written across his face. With my face completely covered, there was no point in lying, so I answered honestly.
"I don't know either."
I genuinely couldn't explain my own movements. None of it had followed my intentions. I had no idea how to perform that kind of action.
"Don't give me that bullshit! How did you cut off my magic at that range!"
It seemed this gladiator was more interested in the magic than the martial technique.
"Ah. That..."
If that was what he wanted, I could talk about it until dawn. I actually enjoyed explaining things like this. If time allowed, I'd happily spend the whole day laying it out for him.
But the arena didn't grant that much time, and more than anything, I needed to identify the true nature of this sensation immediately.
"To put it simply," I began.
"At the start, while you were pivoting the tip of your foot sideways and drawing the staff out to the side, that posture severely limits the variety of spells you can cast. Most of them come out in restricted forms, so I could narrow it down to one of only a few gladiator-type techniques. That let me read the mana flow and roughly predict direction and intensity even if I couldn't grasp it perfectly. From there, the manifestation of the mana..."
"W-wait. What?"
He seemed lost because I'd explained too quickly, so I went through it again.
"In other words, by minimizing the range of possible spells that could be used in that situation, reading the mana flow stops being so difficult. That in turn lets you predict the manifestation."
"Uh..."
"And once you've seen the manifestation once, distinguishing and locating the following magic becomes much easier. That lets you read the flow and cut it off in advance."
"Uh... I see."
"Furthermore..."
I added a few more words to encourage my fellow magician, but the arena voice cut in, urging our return.
The moment he heard it, my opponent turned on his heel and left. I felt a little offended, but I supposed it couldn't be helped. Still, encountering a fellow practitioner after so long had eased my mind. Maybe that was why my thoughts tilted toward the optimistic.
Laverre said there wouldn't be any major problems, and even though my body moved on its own, I'm perfectly fine right now, aren't I?
I figured nothing catastrophic would happen immediately.
But the moment I left the arena, that confidence wavered. The instant I climbed the stone steps, Laverre's expression as she appeared from the opposite side was strangely inscrutable. Wondering if something had gone wrong, I approached slowly, heart heavy, and sat down beside her.
"...Did you win?"
"Yeah."
She let out a long, heavy sigh.
"Why?"
"Huh?"
She had asked if I won, so I said I had. There shouldn't have been any room for "why."
...Why?
"No... Ha. Never mind."
I couldn't quite read her, but it seemed like I should bring up that movement from earlier.
"Laverre?"
"What?"
Her tone was clearly poisonous, and she didn't look happy at all. With no obvious reason I could point to, the confusion only deepened. Still, it didn't feel like the right moment, so I kept quiet.
"...Never mind."
"What do you mean, never mind? It's written all over your face that you've got something to say."
At some point Karena had sat down beside us, a bucket of perfectly fried popcorn in her hands. I reached out for a handful, but she yanked the bucket away.
"Where the hell did you learn to move like that?"
She said what she wanted to say. Selfish as ever.
"I didn't learn it. My body just shot forward on its own."
"Yeah, I figured. That's exactly why it's a problem. That wasn't a movement Henry should have been capable of... Laverre, are you even listening?"
Laverre was staring into empty space.
"Yes."
Her ears might have been listening, but her mind was clearly somewhere else. Unlike her usual self, Karena didn't throw in any of her typical profanity-laced commentary. She simply turned to me.
"No matter what that bitch says later, you're forfeiting the next round and getting the hell out. Jian's already beating the shit out of people down there anyway. That bastard will be satisfied on his own."
"Weren't you the one who said last time it would be a good learning opportunity?"
"We can teach you that ourselves—me or Jian... Anyway, now's not the time. This feels way too ominous."
I didn't argue, but I wasn't convinced either. The situation unfolding around me was simply confusing, and I couldn't even tell what emotion I was supposed to be feeling.
While I struggled to understand myself, the commentator suddenly bellowed at the top of his lungs.
All eyes turned to the arena. From the deep shadows below, a colossal man slowly emerged into the light.
The audience burst into laughter. The man's stiffening expression was plain to see. His opponent looked like a perfectly average warrior—helmet, greaves, everything familiar. He gave the impression of a soldier stamped out from a mold.
The moment he appeared, Laverre spoke up beside me.
"Jian! You have to win!"
"You idiot! We even went to the trouble of using a fake name..."
"Oh come on. How many people in the world are named Jian? It's so loud down there no one will hear it anyway!"
I whipped my head toward Karena.
"That was Jian?"
"His face is too well-known for comfort, so we stuck a helmet and random gear on him. Does it look that fucking stupid?"
The cheers soon died down and the arena fell quiet. Just like before, the announcer let both fighters choose their weapons. From our high vantage point, we could see everything clearly. Jian picked a longsword as usual, while the giant chose a massive hammer suited to his size. They turned their backs to each other. The match began.
The giant took the first step, striding forward with huge paces. Jian matched him by retreating a single step. He continued retreating in perfect rhythm with every following step.
The giant soon swung his hammer. The distance was unstable, so the blow struck the ground solidly. He immediately pulled the hammer back. Everything continued in the same rhythm. One step created the next. A swing was always followed by a recovery. Then, in a single instant, the rhythm broke.
A gap appeared for the briefest moment—an opening so small it seemed symbolic, something you wouldn't think could be exploited. But Jian moved in that exact instant.
It was over in the blink of an eye. I could barely see anything. All I registered was he moved. A moment later the giant's massive body collapsed. Yet I didn't really see him fall. The image of that swordplay kept replaying in my head. No matter how many times I reviewed it, I couldn't grasp the whole thing. I hadn't even caught half the movement.
Even after the announcer's declaration, a momentary hush fell over the arena. Only a quiet reverence pulsed through the stands. Then, as if releasing all the admiration they'd been holding back, an enormous cheer exploded outward.
"That son of a bitch is fucking insane with a blade."
"What the hell happened? Could you even see it?"
Karena explained, sounding both matter-of-fact and slightly irritated.
"He did induce impatience, that's true. But the level was crazy. He dodged everything by the width of a fist. At the same time he was measuring the speed difference between himself and his opponent. Then the moment he wanted arrived, he moved several times faster than before so the opponent couldn't react."
She popped a piece of popcorn into her mouth and added,
"But that's easier said than done. Only Jian can pull that off. And look."
"At what?"
"That big guy. Not a single drop of blood on him. In that split second he targeted only vital points and struck with the flat of the blade. Perfectly accurate. Not even a scratch. If Jian gets a few more years on him, who knows, but at his current level, he's winning this tournament for sure."
Laverre jumped to her feet and struck a fighting pose.
"That's right! I knew he wouldn't lose!"
"You moron! Stop making a scene and sit down!"
I stared quietly at Jian in the distance. He slowly disappeared into the shadows of the arena. Suddenly, a crushing feeling washed over me. I had no idea where it came from. Both of us had won. Even if I couldn't feel joy, there was no reason to feel this devastated.
"No... I don't know."
Yet the words slipped out anyway. My whole body trembled. Tension? No. Not at all. It was something closer to madness. No. I wouldn't define it. It was an emotion I'd never felt before. A frenzy of ecstasy, rage, and insanity. Each independent emotion swirled violently, invading my mind.
"...Sword God."
At some point I had bitten my lip and spoken the words. And that wasn't all. Before I knew it, my body was descending the far side of the stairs. I couldn't tell whether the action was my own will or not. All I knew was that while my consciousness grew shallower, these movements grew stronger in exact proportion.
"What? Henry, where are you going?"
"Bathroom."
I desperately gripped the stair railing, trying to hold onto my consciousness, but even the strength in my fingertips was swallowed by the oncoming tide and vanished. And then...
...the strength left my fingers.
Now my movements were freer than ever. That damn man's interfering consciousness seemed to have sunk lower. I didn't know how much time I had. Let's go find him. Where is he? Ah. There he is. That's the guy. Look at that arrogant bastard standing with the sun at his back. He's exactly like that guy from back then. Yes. Turn around. Look at me.
...You saw! You saw me! Now what? Yes! Get angry! Your comrade's body belongs to me now. Doesn't it piss you off? Doesn't it disgust you? No. Quieter than I expected. Planning to stay silent? Or are you just carefully observing my actions?
"You. You're not Henry, are you?"
"That's right."
As expected. Calmer than I thought. Similar to that guy. I shouldn't underestimate him just because he's young.
"Well. I did think it would eventually come to this..."
He threw an axe at my feet. It stuck upright in the ground.
"I've seen your swordsmanship before. I thought so much time had passed that I wouldn't remember it clearly, but the moment I saw it, it all came back."
"I have no intention of listening. The moment you used Henry's body as you pleased, your chance to explain everything disappeared. Pick up the axe. I'll beat you just enough and drag you back to Laverre."
I gripped the axe. A long-forgotten sensation spread through my entire body.
"Same here. Who you are and where you learned that swordsmanship—you'll be confessing soon enough anyway."