Come Here, Take a Hit (2)
Come Here, Take a Hit (2)
3-Second Style.
Tigelsitch figured 3-Second Style would be plenty to beat Ian into the ground.
Just look at that pathetic, emaciated gigolo.
'One to the shin, one to the solar plexus, and one right between those obnoxious eyes.'
His face was too gaunt, so he'd make sure his head swelled up nice and proper. With that thought, he settled into his stance.
'They said he's a mage.'
He'd already gathered some intel: the guy was a Lichten cadet and a mage. He couldn't fathom why a mage would pick up a wooden sword, but it was probably just a feint.
Tigelsitch watched Ian's mouth and feet carefully.
The mouth for incantations, the feet for movement.
If he could just close the distance before any chanting started, he'd win.
'Well, actually, even if he chants, I can still win.'
Heh.
Just as Tigelsitch's lips curled upward and he began to set his stance—
— Flash!
Ian vanished from right in front of him.
"...?!"
What the—?
But his legs hadn't moved at all.
Flustered, Tigelsitch whipped his head around.
Heh—
His eyes caught the sight.
Ian, the corners of his mouth stretched high, grinning like a demon.
And at the same time, a silver-glowing wooden sword was swinging straight at him.
A strange sense of dissonance struck Tigelsitch.
'Wait. Hold on. Why is a wooden sword silver...?'
And since when did a mage swing a blade that fast?
Could he even block this...?
The thoughts didn't last long.
— WHAM!
Every onlooker doubted their ears for a moment. Did a wooden sword normally make that kind of sound when hitting an iron helmet?
One thing was certain, though.
The middle of the helmet was caved in.
— Ssssspurt!
Blood erupted from both of Tigelsitch's nostrils.
"Gah-hek!"
With a grotesque groan, Tigelsitch's eyes rolled inward.
He stiffened bolt upright, then toppled straight backward.
Thud!
A heavy crash echoed through the training ground.
◆
Seated next to Hermann Pierce, Count Linkshu's eyelids twitched uncontrollably.
'Did I see that wrong...?'
It had all happened in the literal blink of an eye.
He'd shut his eyes and opened them, and his house knight Tigelsitch was already crushed by a single strike from Ian.
The sight of the helmet deeply caved in at the center, its sides bulging outward, was chilling.
"Victory to Ian Blackangus!"
The referee shouted.
Attendants swarmed in to carry the fallen Tigelsitch away.
He'd probably receive healing right away, but...
'That, that useless bastard!'
Rage flared up inside him.
He'd declared so boldly to Duke Hermann Pierce that he would humiliate that Ian boy. And the most skilled knight in his house had just disgraced himself like that?
'Fine. Bans and Hanelsitch will manage to put him in his place somehow.'
Count Linkshu was, after all, a layman with no real grasp of combat or battle. He lacked the ability to objectively gauge Ian's strength.
"That scoundrel must have used some underhanded trick."
"Didn't you see him attack immediately without so much as a greeting? That's what you get from a family with no honor."
"Utterly blinded by victory. Tsk, tsk."
As the nobles around him, reading Count Linkshu's expression, offered tactful remarks to save his face—
Hermann Pierce, seated in the place of honor, blinked without a word.
... What in the world was that footwork just now?
Hermann hadn't been able to fully capture Ian's movements.
Because he hadn't been paying full attention.
All he saw: a wide shift into the opponent's blind spot without any foot movement. Then, while the opponent was flustered, a soul-charged strike delivered from that blind spot.
That was the extent of Ian's movements that Hermann Pierce had confirmed.
The very fact that he could confirm that much already set him apart from the mass of worthless nobles.
But.
When you considered that he was a warrior at the upper end of 4-Star, the story changed. Wasn't Hermann someone who would definitely rank within the top ten in the North by martial strength? And he'd missed the footwork of a gigolo like that?
Hermann fell into confusion.
'... I've never seen footwork like that. Never faced it, either.'
It was questionable whether it could even be called footwork in the first place.
Because there had been no leg movement when slipping into the blind spot.
'Either there was none, or it was too fast to see.'
At the very least, it wasn't knightly footwork.
Mages normally paid little attention to footwork, and as for magic—well, it wasn't a teleportation spell. The movement itself had been visible.
The possibilities were an assassin, or someone who'd learned a peculiar martial art from Antigonos.
'That can't be.'
When he swung the wooden sword, it was as simple as could be.
More than anything, that ability to instantly transform the material of the wooden sword—
That was earth-element magic.
Therefore, the most probable judgment was that this earth-element mage was using some unheard-of movement spell... which would be the reasonable conclusion.
'... Unbelievable.'
Hermann frowned.
Whatever the truth, the number of people cheering for Ian was growing.
"Kyaah—!"
"He's so cool!"
... A sight he couldn't believe even after seeing it with his own eyes.
No. Had he actually seen it wrong?
The furrow between Hermann's brows deepened.
◆
"Oof. Was that too strong?"
Walking down from the training ground, Ian shook out his wrist.
He'd meant to just knock the guy out, but he'd put in more power than intended.
'More mana in my body makes it hard to control.'
Or rather, his "hands" for handling mana had gotten bigger, so to speak.
Even using the same technique, the intensity was stronger than before.
Just now, he'd reinforced his body more heavily than planned and slammed down on the 3-Second Style villain's head—hence the result.
Either way, with one of the three knight villains dealt with, he felt satisfied.
Ian returned to his spot feeling lighthearted.
"That was amazing."
"Wow, you can actually fight a bit, huh?"
"They say you're the Imperial Princess's man—are those skills you picked up at the palace?"
Participants who'd shown zero interest before he went up were now acting familiar.
Thanks to the knight villains, they'd probably pegged him as a real "gigolo"—but now that he'd shown his mettle in the match, their curiosity seemed piqued.
Well, that tracked.
The participants were all combat-crazed types to begin with, so this was actually more true to their nature. If anything, this sudden attention was high praise—an acknowledgment that Ian's ability had impressed them.
Giving casual replies, Ian slipped out to the edge of the training ground for now.
"Hoo..."
As he was catching his breath—
"Ian!"
Danya had approached without him noticing, popping her face right in front of his.
"That was really, really amazing-meow!"
"Thanks."
"Especially that movement at the start! That's the one you used during the grade assessment, right?"
Ian gave a quiet nod.
The explosive mobility technique he'd newly learned during the grade assessment.
He'd modified it into a more optimized movement technique.
While the speed was lower than the original, the casting time was faster, and stable movement became possible.
The name he'd given this newly learned movement technique was [Leap].
'Ideally I want to avoid exposing my abilities to Hermann Pierce as much as possible...'
But since he planned to use [Leap] as a basic mobility skill anyway, he'd judged it better to accumulate practical experience.
On the contrary, letting him see this might just complicate the thoughts of mid-boss Hermann Pierce.
No—given how suspicious that bastard was, it definitely would.
"Yeah. I tweaked it to be a bit weaker."
"Hey, that was weak, nya?"
Suddenly, Danya's expression turned serious.
"I wanna try it too."
— Shashashak!
She abruptly crab-walked sideways.
"Pfft!"
"Wh-why are you laughing!"
"Bwahaha! Did I move like that?"
"Ugh!"
Face blushing red, Danya puffed out her cheeks.
"Anyway, you were amazing, you idiot!"
She snapped that at him, gave a sharp "Hmph!" through her nose, and then left.
Or so he thought.
"Why are you back?"
"Hmph!"
Then she placed something on top of his head and scurried back to the spectator seats.
It was a recovery magic spell—「Snow-Greeting Flower」.
◆
His second match was an easy opponent he could handle sufficiently with just a wooden sword and body enhancement.
The result: a simple win.
From the next match onward, the real tournament began in earnest.
"For the youngest of us three brothers—I'll avenge Tigelsitch!"
Coincidentally enough, he encountered another of the two remaining knight villains.
If things kept going like this, he'd meet the low-kick knight villain in the semifinals, which meant he'd essentially face all the knight villains, wouldn't he?
Anyway.
Ian answered seriously.
"Ah... don't tell me the youngest died?"
"He didn't die!"
"Then why call it vengeance? Still, I'm glad he's got a hard head that can take that and be fine."
"It is a relief that he only needs about a month to recover... I mean, no! What relief! You're the one who did it!"
"Injuries happen in sparring. And you showed up in iron armor to a fight with wooden swords, so of course it took more force."
"What?"
"Anyway, that means for a month you'll be two brothers instead of three."
"... You bastard!"
Right from his manner of speaking, the guy was stiff and square.
Ian deliberately kept needling him.
His goal here wasn't to punish these guys, but to score strong results in the martial tournament and appeal to Yergina.
If there was an easy way to win, it was right to take it.
"Even if something happens to Tigelsitch, as our sworn brother..."
While the guy droned on and on, Ian quietly closed the distance.
It was obvious the man was wary of a wooden sword flying in from the side—
Flash—!
Ian immediately dove straight into the guy's center.
"You cur...!"
The man instantly raised his wooden sword overhead to block a downward strike.
"Huh?"
— CRAAACK!
Ian's reinforced fist smashed into the man's jaw.
Whirlick!
Spinning like a cartoon character, the guy flew and then crumpled to the floor.
— "Oooooh!"
— "The match ended in a single exchange again!"
— "Ian! Ian!"
Cheers filled the training ground.
The number of people calling him by his name—not "the Imperial Princess's man"—had started to grow.