The Tournament Begins
Early in the morning, while undergoing a simple medical check, Line—who should have been busy preparing for the matches—came to see me.
“You’re all right, aren’t you?”
“Yes, she is in excellent health.”
The doctor wiped the cold sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief as he explained my condition, clearly strained by having to treat an unexpected foreign dignitary. In short, he was politely begging me to be discharged already. Line, however, was excessively worried about my health, so I spoke up first before she could suggest I stay in the hospital.
“S-Sister! I’m fine, really.”
To prove I was perfectly all right, I even forced out the word “Sister,” which still felt awkward, and swung my arms around. Unfortunately, I smacked the back of my hand hard against the wall behind me and scraped the skin.
Line stared at my flushed face in disbelief, then frowned.
“This won’t do. Your head still isn’t right. You’re staying here and resting.”
The memories of the original Ruwina and my own had gotten mixed up, so I’d been rambling nonsense for the past few days, but there was no way I could admit to my sister that I’d hit my head.
“……”
“I told you not to make that face.”
I hadn’t even realized I was pouting until Line scolded me. The doctor, watching the scene, sighed and nodded.
“Very well. One more day, then…”
No. I wanted to see the Aindiums in action with my own eyes. The tournament would last several days, but the very first scene of episode one took place in the duel arena today. As a fan, I had an obligation to witness it live.
Line had a tendency to be overprotective of Ruwina, and her authority was absolute. I couldn’t simply ignore her and do as I pleased. How could I change her mind?
The answer came surprisingly quickly. Ruwina’s memories and the instincts etched into her body began insisting that they knew exactly how to soothe “Sister’s” anger. My adult male self stubbornly rejected the idea. While the two sides of me argued, the aide who had been attending us approached the door.
“Lady Line. It is time for you to prepare.”
“Then I’m off. Take care of yourself.”
Line turned to leave. I couldn’t let her go like this. In my desperation, the fan inside me overpowered the man. I reached out, caught the hem of her sleeve, and pulled her arm into a tight hug before whispering in a small voice.
“I want to cheer for you while you fight…”
It was such a perfect imitation of Ruwina that even I was surprised. The adorable, spoiled junior from the anime had been perfectly recreated through me. Something inside me felt like it had crumbled, but the result was immediate. Line scratched her cheek with her free hand, sighed, and gave permission for my discharge.
Line was weak to Ruwina. In the memories, Ruwina had respected and slightly feared Line, so she rarely asked for favors. But I could. Moving someone this important came at a cost—pieces of my inner self were wearing away—but it had to be done.
“You must not push yourself. Absolutely not.”
“Yes!”
Even though she was short on time, Line rattled off several more warnings before ordering her guards and aides never to take their eyes off me. Then she headed for the arena.
An hour later, back at the lodging provided by the Alitus Kingdom, I faced another crisis.
“Lady Ruwina, it is time to prepare.”
The maids who had followed us from our homeland were trying to dress me in a flowing, delicate gown. No one had helped me get dressed since I was very young… except that Ruwina’s memories were crystal clear on the matter. This was exactly why a body raised in luxury was nothing but trouble.
“Um, I can dress myself—kyaa!”
“Please stay still, my lady.”
*
After ten minutes of surrendering to the maids’ skilled hands, the frail patient was gone. In the mirror stood an elegant lady. There were always comparison memes online about characters who looked alike; if I took a photo like this and posted it, everyone would say I was 100% synced with Ruwina. I was curious what the other characters looked like too. Line had never shown her face in what I’d seen so far. Since the protagonist was participating today, I’d probably get to see his face during the player introductions.
The arena wasn’t far from the lodging, so we left thirty minutes before the matches began. There was already a VIP seat reserved under my name, so I didn’t have to worry about tickets. The streets were too crowded for a carriage, but the guards cleared a path and we arrived without issue.
The arena was larger than a baseball stadium. It was built specifically for standard Aind-class Aindiums around ten meters tall, so even this size felt small. Several Aindiums were already moving inside. The stands were packed, and the crowd roared as they cheered for the pilots. Four nations were participating in this friendly tournament. Because the host kingdom, Alitus, had the largest population, roughly seventy percent of the spectators were waving Alitus flags. I’d heard it could hold over a hundred thousand people, and it looked like that many had gathered.
Worried I might get swept away in the crowd, the guards quickly escorted me to the VIP section. I found my seat without incident and looked at the large screen showing the arena. Beside it, the announcer and commentator were explaining the tournament rules. Sixteen pilots from four nations would compete: eight preliminary matches today, six main bracket and semifinal matches tomorrow, and the final the day after. Line’s preliminary match was in round three. The protagonist, Rendel, was in round seven. A few other familiar names appeared on the roster. One senior who had a bad relationship with the protagonist, and one pilot from our own kingdom who knew both Ruwina and Line. If everyone advanced, it would turn into a showdown between acquaintances.
I would have to cheer for both Line and the protagonist. In front of tens of thousands of his countrymen, a first-year military academy student seizing victory made the protagonist a true genius and a born star. I used to join in whenever the fan sites trashed him, but I didn’t actually dislike him. Rendel, who always pursued perfection and was half-mad for battle, lacked the human warmth of the protagonist from the previous work who had agonized between war and peace. Still, modern audiences preferred protagonists like Rendel. After the previous installment’s mediocre performance, even the stubborn production company had created a lead that reflected current trends.
Come to think of it, some of the protagonists from earlier works might still be alive. The very first story was set fifty years ago, after all. Should I count from the second work onward…?
『We now begin the preliminaries of the First Quad-Nation Alliance Friendly Tournament—Aindium Duels.』
Whoa—!
The moment the arena announcement rang out, I abandoned my thoughts and cheered along with the rest of the crowd.
—Hey. Keep it down over there.
…I got scolded by the VIP gentleman in the next room through the wall. After apologizing quietly, I sat obediently, clenched my fists, and focused on the matches. The distant arena could be viewed directly through opera-glass-style binoculars, or on the screen provided in the VIP seats. There were buttons beneath the screen. It probably wasn’t a self-destruct button, so I pressed one.
Beep.
Nothing happened. Just as I was about to lean back in my chair, thinking I’d gotten worked up over nothing, a knock sounded at the door.
“Come in.”
When the guard opened it, a neatly dressed young man entered.
“It is an honor to meet you, my lady.”
“Ah, yes.”
Even with Ruwina’s memories, being called “my lady” still felt strange. So that button had been a call button. I couldn’t exactly say I’d just pressed it out of curiosity. Fortunately, he got straight to business.
“Which pilot would you like to bet on, and how much?”
I didn’t stupidly repeat “Betting?” Of course there would be betting in a tournament. My mind raced. I tried my best to recall episode one of the anime and barely managed to remember who the protagonist had faced. The problem was that I had no money on me. I called over one of the guards.
“Excuse me.”
“Yes, my lady?”
“Do I have any personal funds I can use?”
The guard looked slightly troubled, then made a call somewhere. He returned with a positive answer.
“The aide has arranged for funds to be drawn from the treasury. You are permitted up to ten thousand gold, on the condition that Lady Line not be informed.”
“Of course!”
I began placing bets with more enthusiasm than I’d felt since arriving in this world. I wagered small amounts on Line and the protagonist, then recalled the two opponents Rendel had faced and put the rest on the one with the highest odds. After signing a ten-thousand-gold promissory note, the young man respectfully handed the betting slip to the guard.
“I will return after the preliminaries, then.”
“All right.”
Watching matches and earning pocket money at the same time—what a wonderful arrangement.
“Lady Ruwina is… deviating from her usual behavior…”
“She hasn’t been able to go outside until now, so it’s understandable. Just stay alert and don’t let her do anything reckless.”
I could faintly hear the guards whispering behind me, but I ignored them and focused on the screen.
**
Round three. Line’s match.
The Aindium Line piloted was a ten-meter medium Aind-class unit. Its name was “Ardent.” The word “passionate” didn’t quite match Line’s cool impression, but watching the red-painted machine relentlessly drive its opponent back, the name felt fitting. The opponent was barely eight meters tall—an Aind-class in name only—and couldn’t withstand Ardent’s assault, collapsing quickly due to the size difference.
I had only just been moved by the sight of actual robots moving, but Line’s performance was on an entirely different level. She closed the distance with a lightning-fast dash the moment the match began, struck the arm reaching for a gun with her sword, grabbed the other arm as it tried to counterattack, and slammed the opponent to the ground—all in ten seconds. The crowd erupted in cheers at her clean, efficient piloting amid the generally clumsy student-level matches. I must have shouted when the opponent fell, because the gentleman next door didn’t complain this time. If he had, I’d planned to tell him, “That’s my sister.”
The subsequent matches were entertaining regardless of skill level. Actual Aindiums were moving right in front of me. Everyone I bet on except the protagonist won. Then it was the protagonist’s turn—Rendel.
Rendel’s machine was a large 11.5-meter Aind-class, bigger than Line’s Ardent. Its name was White Fang. Considering that anything up to twelve meters was still classified as Aind-class, it was pushing the limits for an Aind. The setting of the Aindium series was rather unique: bigger did not necessarily mean stronger. The core theme running through the entire series was that magic dwelled in things that resembled the human form.
This world, where magic truly existed, had developed weapons through a process similar to yet slightly different from Earth’s. The reason they bothered building bipedal robots, which were less efficient than tracked tanks, was explained by this setting. Simply put, vehicles shaped like the human body could use magic. Magic here wasn’t about splitting the sky or anything dramatic, but spells existed that could wreathe weapons in flame, increase bullet explosive power, or grant greater speed. Line had just defeated her opponent by layering multiple spells at once.
This setting affected not only shape but size as well. An excessively large robot would underperform compared to several tanks of equivalent cost. The size at which tanks regained superiority was around thirteen meters. That was why the most commonly used Aind-class measured between eight and twelve meters, with separate designations for anything smaller or larger.
Aind-class units could fulfill the roles of infantry, special forces, artillery, and tanks in war, and were also used in industrial settings. Every protagonist in the series piloted an Aind-class, and this protagonist’s machine was on the larger side. The moment the all-white unit appeared in the arena, thunderous cheers erupted from every direction, loud enough to make my ears ring. Just like the audience, most of the pilots were from Alitus, and the protagonist seemed to be the most popular. Being the only first-year representative and having the looks and presence expected of a protagonist probably helped.
Let’s see what the protagonist can do. The moment I focused on the screen, a flash of light appeared—and White Fang had already passed its opponent and emerged behind it.
“H-He moved…!”
It was the protagonist’s signature technique, the lightning-fast movement. He had won this tournament with that speed, which was nearly impossible to follow with the naked eye. In the last anime content I remembered, countermeasures had been developed and the technique rarely worked anymore, but it was still terrifying enough to warrant preparation.
Rendel fired two shots at the opponent, who was only now turning around, then drew his sword. He charged the Aindium whose shoulders had been hit by suppression rounds and whose movements had briefly stopped, followed as it tried to retreat, exchanged a few blows, then rammed it with his shoulder and sent it flying out of the ring.
The loudest cheer yet shook the arena.