Living under a proper roof in a proper bed, with proper als, the girl went from nothing but skin-and-bones to good health within months. Living in that cottage, she learned to read, entertaining herself with books while the man was often away on his quests.
["Elias took in. I asked him countless tis throughout the years why he did, but the only answer I ever got was "What kind of man would let a kid sleep in the rain?"]
"That’s the spirit!" Elias complinted.
Beneath the calm sun of spring in the tranquil fields behind the cottage, the young Sylvan swung her wooden sword while the gracious man casually blocked each strike. In just a year’s ti, the girl developed enough to match the adventurer’s path, breaking through his guard and smacking the training weapon against his side.
"--Yowch!" Elias reacted sharply, holding the spot of affliction. "Phew, that smarts! Y’know, Sylvan, you’ve got a real talent for this. Not to ntion, you’ve got the strength of an ox. I know one day you’ll be a fantastic adventurer–way better than !"
Sylvan huffed, "Way, way better!" The girl giggled.
"Hold on, don’t get ahead of yourself, kid!" Elias squinted at her with his light-blue eyes, bringing his index finger and thumb together. "Just a bit better, that’s it! I’m still pretty elite, so be happy I’m giving you that much credit!"
While they bickered jokingly, the tis they had were monts the girl didn’t know she’d look back on so dearly, so preciously–as so few of those mories were made. Every day, she sat at the table, having learned how to cook properly, she would wait eagerly with plates set.
She was particularly proud of the carrot stew she cooked up, watching the door, waiting for the rowdy adventurer to co rolling in. There were tis Elias ca in, already groaning about having to deal with goblins: "Seriously, those little guys always jump !" Or returning with a broken sword: "The sli ate it..."
Sylvan waited, trying to think of what kind of story he’d have for her today. But, the stew grew cold and the cottage remained quiet.
["One day...He didn’t co back."]
The next morning, she opened the door to find employees of the Guild returning what remained of Elias, or to be more exact, the belongings he left behind.
["Apparently, it wasn’t even the quest he was assigned. On his way back, the screams of a child led him off his path. He found an ogre dragging away a brother and sister, intervening. Elias...He wasn’t special, he wasn’t gifted. An ogre wasn’t sothing he could handle.
Still, he fought–like he taught , he pushed himself to the limit, long enough for the kids to get away safely."]
For days, the girl that was born into nothing wept, for the first ti since she was brought into this world. With nothing but the blood-stained sword left behind by her benefactor, the girl dragged it to the nearest town’s Guild as soon as her tears dried.
All of the adventurers in the building watched the small girl, dragging the claymore twice her size as she approached the front desk. For the receptionist, though she greeted a child, no older than ten, a look in her eyes set her far apart from any youth–
"I want..." The girl said, pushing the words from the bottom of her heart. "I want to kill monsters."
Even at her young age, passing the entrance test ant they couldn’t deny her. Much to the surprise of the appointed examiner, the child possessed abnormal strength and finesse with the claymore.
From that day onward, each and every day, the girl took on any job she could find, so long as it required hunting fiends.
["At first, I started because I hated monsters. Elias...He was the only family I ever had. Of course I was pissed they took him away. Still, I think that anger faded at so point and I was left with the only thing I knew how to do.
Swinging that sword, just like he taught ."]
–
The crowd fell silent as the Champion and swordswoman were in reach of one another. Tederich’s hand was outreached with swirling wind re inches from eviscerating the woman. As he stared at the bloodied state of his opponent, the old man saw the look in her eyes; an absent, yet immovable fla buried in those irises. For the briefest mont, the veteran saw a reflection of soone he once knew in those eyes.
"I concede."
The words that left the lips of the reigning winner of the tournant silenced the entire building.
"Huh...?" A quiet gasp of pure confusion escaped the bleeding mouth of the swordswoman.
"You have no plans on conceding, and the only way soone with a thick skull like you is going to be unable to fight is if you’re dead," Tederich explained his decision with a quiet sigh. "So, I quit."
It wasn’t until the reigning, now eliminated Champion, took his leave through the tunnel that reality set in.
"THIS...THIS IS A TURN OF EVENTS, FOLKS! THE CHAMPION HAS...CONCEDED? THAT ANS...SYLVAN IS YOUR WINNER AND WILL BE MOVING ONTO THE SECOND ROUND! IT’S ANYBODY’S PRIZE NOW!"
"Whaaaaat?! What, what what?!" Lacian completely rejected, standing up from his seat. "What kind of ending is that?!"
"I don’t get it..." Otto said, shaking his head. "He was overwhelmingly stronger than her, wasn’t he? Why would he give up, just like that?"
"I guess he’s not as ruthless as Redrum warned. Maybe age softened him," Noah theorized.
The question remained on Noah’s mind throughout the start of the bout to the end: "If he fell short of becoming a Saint, just what does it take?"
With the first round of the tournant completed, the second wasn’t set to begin until the next night. He left the colosseum, beating the crowds as he waited for the others to catch up, eventually making it back to their exclusive suit.
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