22. Festival and Duel
The next day, just before noon, Mash, Fam, and Mizuki stood in front of the arena.
They had tried to wrap Fam up like a mummy and hand her over to Aidan, but she'd resisted fiercely. Naturally, Fam was furious now.
Even though less than half a day had passed, rumors of the duel had already spread throughout the city. Cheers erupted from inside the arena, where the excitement was already building. It seemed people were treating it like some kind of entertainment—a festival of sorts. This was not what Mash had anticipated. He'd imagined a quiet, discreet fight.
"Maybe I should just apologize and rejoin the party after all."
Even the bold Mizuki seemed intimidated.
"Too late for that, Mizuki. They won't treat you the same even if you go back."
He'd shared the plan with Fam last night but kept it from Mizuki.
"Still, I hate going in there. I don't like standing out."
Lead probably wouldn't kill Mizuki or Fam. But he might try to kill me. Who knew? It was a fight with real weapons—death was always a possibility, and they'd planned for it. The audience probably wanted blood too. But Mash didn't hate Lead enough for that level of malice, despite the unreasonable demands. Guys like him existed back in the old world too. If possible, he wanted to end this peacefully, without a bitter aftertaste. He didn't want Mizuki or Fam caught up in killing either. And as outsiders and newcomers to this city, how would the locals view them if they saw new faces spilling blood? Impossible to predict.
He wanted to run. But with their limited knowledge of this world, fleeing wouldn't leave them many options afterward.
There was no choice but to steel themselves.
"Let's go."
They entered the arena, the stage for battle. Passing through a dimly lit brick corridor, they emerged into the sunlit fighting ground.
The arena's center felt vast—maybe thirty meters across. Circular in shape, it was enclosed by walls over two meters high, with spectator seats rising up behind them. The stands were impressively full, at least eighty percent packed. Some folks munched on skewers or swigged drinks. Carefree bunch, even knowing this might turn into a deathmatch.
Mash walked toward the center on the hard-packed dirt.
Wind's Blade was already there. Confident of victory, no doubt. Lead greeted them with a smug, leisurely grin at the front, Cecily and Ira lined up behind him, Beers bringing up the rear.
"Didn't run, huh?"
"Hey, if you wanna back out, now's the time. Won't cry if you die."
"Hah, talk about being underestimated."
Lead drew his sword—a bastard sword, by the look of it. Impressions kept souring. Beers stepped up beside him, readying his battle axe.
Mizuki drew her sword too, moving to stand in front as if compelled. She still felt responsible, huh.
"Mizuki, stay behind us."
He didn't want a fight breaking out before he could make his move.
"...You have a plan, don't you? You could've told me sooner."
Mizuki got it. Seeing Mash nod, she stepped back.
"Loser becomes the winner's slaves, right? How do we enforce that?"
"We're guild members. One of the guild staff will witness."
Lead jerked his chin toward a guild receptionist chatting noisily with other spectators. Beside her stood a slim, white-haired man in fine clothes—the apparent witness. He hopped lightly from the stands and strode over briskly. The setup for this duel was too perfect. Lead's group had filled in all the gaps while Mash knew nothing.
Guild Master Caster speaking:
"The match ends by party surrender, all members incapacitated and unable to stand, or death."
"Mash, I'm killing you." Lead laughed.
"Can't guarantee any of you survive either. Let Beers go, at least?"
Mash replied anyway. Lead snorted derisively.
"Loser becomes winner's slaves. If no objections, blood seals from representatives."
Caster held out the paper.
"Fam, if you would."
Mash extended his index finger; Fam pricked it sharply with her knife tip. A tiny bead of blood welled up. If only it were Fam's little bead, he thought wistfully.
Lead nicked his finger with his own sword.
They pressed their blood seals.
"Alright, start whenever." Caster turned to leave.
"Wait—why's the guild witnessing a duel with no skin in the game?"
"We're running the bets. Five percent cut for the guild. Slave crests are complimentary from the proceeds."
That explained the slick setup. They turned adventurers' squabbles into spectacles to line their pockets daily.
"Then can I bet too?"
"On your own victory? Sure."
"Five gold coins." "Me too, five gold." "Then I'll put in too."
Mash led, followed by Fam and Mizuki. Rare for Fam, who hated spending. Hope she doesn't get hooked on gambling. Caster chuckled and took the coins.
"Odds were 1-to-99, but some bet on you guys—now it's about 2-to-8."
"Good luck, then."
Caster returned to the stands.
"Well, shall we begin?"
Lead said. The crowd roared, shaking the arena.
Mash had only one option: end this duel without crossing swords.
"Fam, the rest is on you."
"Yes, Master."
He handed her a mana recovery potion. She gripped it tight.
His head spun. The usual intoxicating haze, but harsher this time.
With his shout, blinding light enveloped the arena.
A single spear floated at head height, tip aimed at Lead. Light converged on it, and there she appeared—perched casually on the spear shaft.
Golden wavy long hair flowing serenely, gazing down at Mash. Her usual white sleeveless glossy dress draped with a shimmering iridescent translucent shawl. Divine, majestic, breathtakingly beautiful.
"R-R-Rakushel-sama!" Shocked cries echoed from the crowd.
Rakushel turned her gaze to Lead. He and Wind's Blade stared dumbfounded. The audience fell silent after a brief murmur. Mizuki was probably stunned too, behind him.
"...Today... there are enemies, suu~..."
Her speech pattern unchanged.
"They're too weak to be my foes. Being summoned for such pathetic trash—I'm the one being underestimated here, suu~. Might as well kill the audience too while we're at it."
Whatever "this occasion" meant, she was spouting nonsense as usual.
"Rakushel, sorry. No other way." He whispered.
"Hmm? Mash-san apologizing to me, suu~?"
She sounded surprised, but stopping this duel meant his snark failed before—he was the type to apologize and smooth things over.
"Rakushel, please don't kill them."
"...Understood. But one condition, suu~."
"What?"
"Get along with Mizuki-san."
Rakushel glanced at Mizuki, who gaped back in shock.
"She hates me, y'know?"
"Not true, suu~. I summoned you both, after all."
Suspicious. Sensing his doubt, Rakushel tapped her chin, murmuring "Then...".
"I'll give Fam-san one special skill."
"Deal. We'll get along." Instant agreement. He'd kill for that.
"I'll put the skill catalog in your storage. Bonus: a magic key too, suu~."
Catalog shopping? If she could do that, no need to rush last time. But no point poking the bear.
"And I'm waiting for more too, okay~?"
The spear glided down to head height; she leaned in, whispering sweetly in his ear.
Rakushel soared up again, raising her right arm.
As if time resumed, cheers erupted—"Rakushel-sama!" mixed in here and there.
"Defense!"
Lead snapped to; Cecily and Ira reacted, erecting a magic barrier before him.
Rakushel smiled, waiting for it to finish, then swept her arm down level.
In an instant, countless arrows rained. Not hundreds or thousands—a deafening roar drowning the cheers as tens of thousands pierced Wind's Blade. The barrier shattered effortlessly, vanishing without trace.
Lead and Beers tried deflecting with weapons, but against that barrage, futile.
The arrows pelted mercilessly, ravaging them utterly.
Watching the scene, his vision narrowed sharply.
Mana depletion. Faster than usual.
Fam moved to support him; he leaned into her embrace.
Fam, precious Fam. I love you. Thanks for staying. Sorry for trying to ditch you this morning. Understand, please—I didn't want to hurt you.
No, the intoxication. Focus on enemies. Hope they're not dead.
No good. Thoughts fragmenting.
Darkness closed in.
He awoke. Still a bit woozy.
Fam peered into his face, blushing.
"S-Sorry, Master. You wouldn't drink it yourself, so I... mouth-to-mouth..."
He was still held upright like before passing out.
Glancing around, the crowd was thinning.
Lead's group lay like ragged dishrags.
Ira seemed unscathed, tending her comrades. Wait—four down? Numbers off. Unharmed Ira and ragged Ira... No, the healthy one was her sister Myra.
Others had entered the arena too, treating Wind's Blade members.
"Hey, they're treating without permission? What's the verdict?"
"Sorry. They asked, so I puppeteered Master with ventriloquism and said okay."
Fam apologized meekly.
"Nah, everyone knew it was you talking." Mizuki chimed in from right beside.
"Fam, you're the leader in those spots. Do whatever you want—no issue."
Fam nodded; Mash turned to Myra.
"Myra, you came to watch?"
"Yes. After Rakushel-sama vanished, I came from the stands. The match was decided by then. We won."
Fam said. He'd forgotten to check. Victory while unconscious felt unreal—no joy. Just Rakushel's one-sided massacre. Her arrows had vanished too.
"All of Wind's Blade survived," Mizuki added.
"Good."
"'Good' my ass. You can summon Rakushel? Tell us sooner! I was stressing how it'd end if we lost. No idea she was that strong. Thought she was just some sexy-dressed lady."
Mizuki's take matched his.
"Never summoned in real combat. Wasn't sure of the effect."
He'd trusted from seeing Mizuki and Aidan's skills, but no proof.
"Myra, they okay?"
He asked Myra nursing the dishrags. Her chest swayed with her turn. Definitely a cut above Ira.
"Master Mash... yes, I think so."
"Hm? Master Mash?"
Did she ever add "Master" before? Felt a sting. Sudden distance—probably from injuring Ira.
"I bet five gold on our win. Donate the payout. Treat them."
"U-Understood. You'll help Ira? Let's carry to church now. High priestess should assist."
Church runs on gold, after all.
"Master Mash. Separate matter to discuss."
"Hm? Shoot."
"Preferably alone. No, Fam-san's fine too."
They exchanged looks with Fam, whose face was complicated.
Remembered he'd been leaning on her forever. Seemed he could walk now.
Stepping away experimentally—yeah, good.
As he moved to answer Myra, a man blocked between them.
Lead. Blood streamed from countless arrow wounds. Full of holes, yet standing. He raised his sword.
"Die, Mash!"
Simultaneously, Fam drew a kunai, hurling at him swiftly.
"Fam, don't kill!"
Mash lunged into her line of fire, tackling to stop her. Then—searing pain in his back. Lead's sword struck.
Abdomen burned too. Fam's kunai embedded. He crumpled to the ground.
"N-No... Master, why..."
Mizuki slashed at Lead—perfect angle for her panties.
"Mizuki!"
"Got it."
She knocked his sword away. Arena entrants subdued Lead.
"Master!" "Mash!" "Master Mash!"
Surrounded by Fam, Mizuki, and Myra, he blacked out.
Thanks for reading.
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