─The match is over!
The second and final semifinal match, between Theo Lyn Waldeurk and Lagmar, had co to a close.
The victor was Theo.
Though a burst of cheers would typically ensue, the audience remained silent.
They simply alternated their gaze between Theo, drenched in blood as though adorned in crimson armor, and Lagmar, fallen but writhing in an attempt to rise.
The quiet atmosphere was disrupted by the announcer.
─Ah, the last semifinal victor of the Elinia Academy Festival [Martial Arts Competition] is none other than Theo Lyn Waldeurk! The match was so fierce that the arena floor is almost entirely demolished!
As he spoke, the announcer sneakily glanced at Theo.
With only the final match remaining and ample ti at hand, it was ti for a victory interview.
“······.”
However, even to the announcer, Theo did not appear to be in any condition to participate in an interview.
He simply stood there, like a living corpse.
─Haah.
Catching Theo's blood-stained gaze, the announcer swallowed nervously.
He then chuckled awkwardly and announced.
─Ahahaha, let's give a round of applause for Theo and Lagmar for their stunning performance! Ah, I've just been inford that it will take about 10 minutes to repair the arena. Therefore, the final match will comnce in 20 minutes!
Only then did the audience begin clapping.
“······.”
Theo briefly glanced at Amy, seated in the crowd, then slowly turned his back and exited the arena.
I returned to the athlete's waiting room and imdiately lay down on the bench.
Simultaneously, all sensations in my body stopped.
It was only thanks to the [Twisted Noble's Dignity] that I managed to walk back to the waiting room.
“Phew.”
Blood and sweat flowed down my face, continuously soaking my clothes, but there was no ti to attend to that.
Ignoring it made [Twisted Noble's Dignity] tornt with its pricking sensation.
But I couldn't muster the strength to even twitch a finger.
“Winning the... final seems... unlikely.”
I mumbled these words, but they barely registered in my ears.
My hearing seed to have almost stopped functioning.
Perhaps that was to be expected.
During the latter half of my match with Lagmar, the only words I could discern from the announcer were “end” and “10 seconds.”
Just those two words.
“But, it's... so disappointing.”
I stuttered with my almost non-functional mouth.
······I can still move more.
“······Yes. Yes, I... must.”
However, my body barely moved despite my will.
When I exerted strength in my body, only my fingers twitched slightly.
“Ugh, ack.”
It was excruciating, even just moving my fingers.
It was impractical to call for Taylor.
With less than 20 minutes left for the final match, it would take him more than 20 minutes to arrive.
······I should use my last ounce of strength to open the imitation panacea.
Though the thought stuck, I resisted since it didn't feel right.
When will I be able to get another imitation panacea?
It’s uncertain if I’ll ever obtain one again.
It's a precious item that even Maximin the 'Demon Hunter' might not be able to secure.
It should be reserved for an unforeseen ergency.
For example, it should only be used when my life is under threat from an enemy.
At that mont.
─Squeak, squeal.
The familiar sound of a puppy reached my ears.
If I could hear it with my almost non-functioning hearing, it must be very close.
“Ugh.”
That seems to be the case.
I felt a heavy weight on my chest.
Fortunately, it seems Amy understood the signal I sent from the arena to bring Little Fist.
I spoke hesitantly.
“Amy. Wake up when the final starts.”
After saying that, I imdiately closed my eyes.
“······Ugh, ack.”
Roused by soone shaking , I slowly opened my eyes.
I saw the ceiling of the contender's waiting room, the last thing I saw before falling asleep.
“Ugh.”
A stabbing pain coursed through my entire body.
Arms, legs, waist, back, chest, neck, stomach – there wasn’t a single place that wasn’t aching.
It felt like my whole body was constantly being pricked by large needles.
Yet, it seems so sensation had sowhat returned.
I could feel Little Fist continuously licking my cheek.
While still staring at the ceiling, I spoke loud enough for Amy, who must be nearby, to hear.
“How long have I slept?”
“······About 18 minutes. The final match is about to start, young master.”
“I see. Did you use any dicine on ?”
I had used [Overload] for at least 2 minutes and 30 seconds.
If the backlash had arrived, I should be asleep for three days and nights.
It’s surprising that I regained consciousness with just a nudge from Amy’s small hands..
Then, I heard her voice.
“It's not exactly dicine, but I gave you a stamina recovery potion while you were asleep.”
“······Stamina recovery potion? Ugh.”
I propped myself up and looked at the empty bottle rolling in front of .
●Stamina Recovery Potion [Grade: Ordinary]
: When taken, slightly accelerates the recovery of stamina.
However, its effectiveness may vary from person to person. [More Details]
······Hmm, it seems to be the sa thing I had before.
Last ti, it was no more effective than a vitamin drink... but now, despite the excruciating pain, it clearly had an effect.
Soon, I discovered the reason.
Thanks to what Amy said next.
“First, I apologize for entering your room without your permission, young master.”
“What are you talking about?”
Amy lifted my right hand to show .
On my right ring finger was the [Commorative Ring of the Chalon Family].
The partial recovery of my fatigue was thanks to the ring's effect.
In addition, the stamina recovery potion and the special effect of Little Fist that promotes stamina recovery had been combined.
Amy bowed her head to .
“I knew about the ring's effects from before. When you called, I brought it from your room, just in case.”
······Well, it doesn't matter.
Amy wouldn't have entered my room to steal sothing.
The ring, belonging to the Chalon family, is widely known for its effects.
More famous than its stamina recovery is the effect of 'binding to the first wearer upon equipping'.
Amy surely knew this.
“······Alright. Help get up.”
“Understood.”
“······Ugh.”
As soon as Amy's hands touched , intense pain surged through my body.
Her eyes widened in shock, then narrowed.
“······Young master. Perhaps it would be best to forfeit the final match.”
“······.”
“Everyone already knows you've done as much as you could. Second place isn't a bad result.”
“······I have to go.”
Second place isn't bad.
That's a valid point.
And it's true.
In this [Martial Arts Competition] with many talented participants, a student from the hero departnt deed a failure getting second place is already a great achievent.
But beyond winning or losing, forfeiting itself doesn't sit well with , neither for my appearance nor for my ntality.
Yes, my ntality.
In gas, the concept of 'ntal victory' is very important.
I still have more than three years left before graduating from the academy.
With all sorts of hardships ahead, if I forfeit now just because I’m not in good physical shape, can my already unstable ntality endure?
Knowing well before my possession that it takes only three months for a sane person to beco a wreck, can I confidently say I am not weak?
Those people were much healthier than , both physically and ntally.
······I have to go.
Even to prove to my body and brain that 'I won’t succumb to such delusions.'
“Just support to the back of the arena.”
“······Understood, young master.”
Reluctantly, Amy nodded and supported .
Though still in severe pain, I refrained from making any more pained sounds.
The final match of the Martial Arts Competition is about to begin.
The announcer splendidly introduced Theo and Irene.
The crowd cheered, but it was not as enthusiastic as the competition officials had anticipated.
That was to be expected, as Theo's condition on the stage was visibly poor.
The audience murmured among themselves.
“Theo... it's a miracle he's even standing. Don't you think?”
“Exactly. Did you see him leaving the last match? His legs were trembling with every step.”
“Irene's victory is a sure thing. But her opponent is her frail fiancé, and in the finals, no less! This is juicy.”
“What’s juicy about it?”
“Oh, co on, get with the tis. You’re so out of touch.”
“Anyone want to bet on the outco?”
“What's the stake?”
“Dinner for the rest of the sester. I'm betting on Irene's victory.”
“You're crazy. Why not just ask for money?”
“Hand over the cash.”
“No way.”
“······.”
Claire, with her ears perked up, was watching the arena from above.
She had just arrived at the arena to investigate Theo on the orders of the Saintess.
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