The more companions you have to go out and have fun with, the better.
I went upstairs and dragged the sleepyhead Schmidt, who had been rolling around in bed until now, out with .
And so, we all left the inn and were walking down the street.
Behind us, Linda was following along, getting a piggyback ride from Schmidt.
I had no idea why she was on his back.
"Haaah—"
The weather had grown chilly enough that you could see your breath turn white.
The warm sunlight pouring through the clouds drove away so of the early winter cold.
Dofang, who was walking beside , habitually flicking his butterfly knife open and closed, spoke to .
"Little brother."
"What."
"Were you ever interested in things like the Eight-Bladed Masters?"
"I wasn't, but now I am. I went through sothing that left no choice."
I showed him the ink-black bracelet fastened around my wrist.
"Ah, that... You said you spoke with the spirit of Opossis?"
"That's right."
Dofang muttered as he looked at my bracelet.
"Hmm... It's a hard story to believe, but it certainly doesn't look like any ordinary object."
"Of course not. It won't break easily."
Dofang snapped his flicking butterfly knife shut and looked at .
"Even against aura?"
"Probably?"
A dark aura spread over the butterfly knife in Dofang's hand.
"Should we try?"
"Go ahead."
"Careful with your wrist, little brother. If it gets cut off, I have a feeling the lady back there will try to kill ."
"Don't you worry. Did you not learn your lesson after getting beaten like that? I'm not the sa person I used to be."
Without stopping our steps, we moved our arms.
Clang-clang-clang-clang!
Dofang swung, and I blocked with the bracelet.
The uniquely fluid and flashy sword paths of the butterfly knife bent in complex, unpredictable angles, but they were useless against , who possessed the talent of the Heavenly Demon.
On top of that, my eye for the sword and my physical abilities had grown astonishingly through my training.
Watching the countless black threads weaving like a spider's web, I blocked each and every sword path with minimal movent.
Clang-clang-clang-clang!
While our legs were peacefully strolling down the street, one of our hands was waging a war.
A passerby approaching from the front jumped back in surprise, while another walking past us stared, srized, at our one-ard duel.
Soon, with a surprised look on his face, Dofang withdrew his aura and checked the bracelet.
"What is this? Not even a scratch?"
"Of course. You think the final sword of Ophosis would be damaged by a asly butterfly knife?"
"I infused a pretty dense aura into it. What in the world is it made of?"
"Unfortunately, I didn't get to hear that part."
"Whatever it is, it's definitely no ordinary item. So, can you use it to tell if the Jet-Black Sword is real or not?"
"I think so. I should be able to tell if I hold it."
When I held Vlad before, a red band was engraved on the inside of the bracelet. If the Jet-Black Sword was real, a black band would probably be engraved this ti.
"Hey, little brother."
"Hm?"
Dofang asked in a tone that was, for him, uncharacteristically cautious.
"Speaking of which. Ahem. When do you think I might be able to enter Ophosis's tomb?"
"..."
I stared blankly at the thief in front of .
It was like a cat asking, 'Excuse , could I possibly step into the fish market for a mont?'
Co to think of it, this guy was the phantom thief Dofang.
There was another petty thief right here.
I wonder if he and Shushuruta would get along.
"Huh? Little brother, it's my life's dream. You might not know this, but in this line of work, Ophosis's tomb is the stuff of legends. You said you only took a few jewels, right? Doesn't that an there's still a lot left inside?"
"I don't know. Before I left, I told Shushuruta to take whatever she wanted. The Thieves' Guild has probably cleared it all out by now."
"What! That precious treasure!"
I raised my voice at the thief who coveted another's wealth.
"Hey! The owner said she could do as she pleased. What right does a petty thief like you have to say otherwise?"
"Keuk... Then couldn't I at least get a tour?"
"Well, if the opportunity arises."
"And if it doesn't?"
"Then it can't be helped."
"..."
Dofang, who was smacking his lips with a look of utter regret, asked another question.
"Little brother. Did you say you also fought with the Knight of Frost Blade from the Blake Kingdom?"
"I did."
"Who was stronger, him or the Captain?"
I scratched my cheek for a mont before answering.
"I couldn't really tell."
"Hmm... It's at that level, huh."
Even Dofang couldn't gauge the Captain's strength.
This ti, it was my turn to ask a question.
"Brother Do."
"Hm?"
"Do you believe all the stories I told you? It seed like Hud didn't."
"It is a hard story to believe, no matter how you think about it. But what can I do? If my little brother says it's so, I have to believe him."
Dofang tapped my head as if knocking on a door and said.
"Hey, Mr. Heavenly Demon. Can you hear if I talk like this? Thanks for saving our little brother. I'll treat you to a drink soti, if the opportunity arises."
"And if it doesn't?"
"Then it can't be helped."
We t each other's eyes for a mont, then chuckled.
[...What a bunch of lunatics.]
As we walked, Dofang chattered on about the stories from the southern region I had told him yesterday.
About killing the baron, receiving Ophosis's dagger from Hans, eting Shushuruta, and crossing swords with the Knight of Frost...
"The psychological ga you played with the Knight of Frost was the best part."
"Ah, the armchair?"
"Kekekek!"
Dofang particularly loved that part.
He patted my shoulder, smiling with satisfaction as if I were all grown up.
And also about how I stord Ophosis's tomb and seized the ninth demonic sword, Vlad; how the wandering knight Fluffy beca its master; how we defeated the royal knights in the final battle; how I had tea with the forr king; and how I t Shushuruta's master and the head of the Blake Kingdom's Thieves' Guild, the Shadow Lord...
"That's strange. Over here, he's called the Lord of Murder."
"Is that so?"
I guessed that the Thieves' Guild in the Maia Kingdom was an organization focused more on assassination than information.
I vaguely recalled Shushuruta grumbling about how the Thieves' Guild here was a complete ss.
"Hmm."
Would it be okay to let the two thieves et?
It didn't seem like it would just be a simple conversation.
It felt like other things would be exchanged. Like daggers filled with killing intent.
[That would be quite a spectacle. A fight between assassins.]
"I bet it would."
Then there was the matter of receiving a knighthood from the Black Prince—that is, the new king of the Blake Kingdom—and consequently being dropped into the Hilka Holy Empire via the royal teleportation circle.
"A knight? That ferocious stray dog is a knight! Puhahaha!"
"What are you laughing at?"
Dofang said with a grin.
"How could I not laugh? A delinquent who used to run around fighting like a stray dog has beco a knight ordained by the king. I'm already curious what the others will say when they hear. There won't be a single one who doesn't laugh."
"...Tch."
Co to think of it, I found it funny too, so he wasn't entirely wrong.
I could vividly picture Siri's pure white eyes going wide as she said, 'Whaat? Brother Ashuban beca a knight?'
"..."
The thought of Siri made my heart ache a little for so reason, so I changed the subject.
"So, how do we participate in the tournant? Do we have to register or sothing?"
"No. Registration closed a while ago, and the preliminary rounds are underway right now."
"Ah, really? We're a step too late."
"Not necessarily. The Second Prince's goal isn't just to show off his knight, but also to select excellent knights who will beco his sword."
"Hmm."
"The final winner, who will cross swords with the so-called master of the Jet-Black Sword, will almost certainly be knighted directly by the Second Prince and enter his service. Besides that, he'll likely recruit anyone who shows promise in the matches, without discrimination."
"So that's why there are so many participants."
"That's right."
As we walked, we soon arrived at the city square.
"Hyaap! Hap!"
Clang! Chang!
"Waaaaaah!"
People were gathered like clouds, and the air was a mix of shouts, the clash of steel, and roars from the crowd.
It seed the preliminary rounds were being held in this spacious square without a separate arena.
In other words, the street was the arena. The spectators were the outer boundary.
Wherever the sound of clashing tal could be heard, people were gathered in a circle, watching the matches.
Dofang's explanation continued as he strode through the crowd.
"As you can see, the preliminaries are in full swing. They'll pick sixteen people from here to advance to the main tournant."
"Hmm."
"The main tournant is held in District 2. It makes sense, since the ones the Second Prince needs to impress aren't the ignorant commoners, but the nobles who hold power. At best, rchants or wealthy people rich enough that even nobles can't ignore them will be invited from District 3."
"I see. So?"
Dofang gave a mischievous smile.
"The phantom thief Dofang has a plan. Just follow , little brother."
Dofang skillfully cut through the crowd and led to one of the street-side arenas.
I glanced back to see if the others were following. This ti, Linda was carrying Schmidt on her back.
...What in the world are they doing?
After confirming they were following, one way or another, I followed Dofang and pushed into the crowd watching the match.
"Excuse , coming through. Haha, the fellow fighting over there is a friend of mine. It's only natural to cheer for a friend, isn't it?"
Muttering things to the crowd, Dofang pushed his way through to the very front and gestured for to co over.
I joined Dofang to occupy the front row of the street arena, then plopped down on the ground so the people behind us could see.
Clang! Chang!
The match was in full swing.
Two n were facing off. One was a man with a white band tied around his head, and the other looked like a rcenary, with many scars and a rather rough appearance.
Dofang pointed to the man with the white headband.
"Little brother, watch that guy closely."
The man's movents were incredibly light.
He didn't look like a knight, nor a rcenary.
"That guy's na is Flanco. He's from a collateral branch of the Fatima viscounty."
"...He was a noble brat?"
"Well, he is a noble, technically. But being from a collateral branch puts him in an awkward position. They're nobles who aren't really treated like nobles. Their standing isn't very good in high society either."
"Hmm."
"So they each have to figure out their own way to survive. That one seems to have found a good teacher sowhere, because his movents are quite decent. I've been keeping an eye on him. He occasionally drops by the Thieves' Guild looking for work, with his face all covered up."
"You've got a good eye to recognize him."
Dofang grinned and pointed a thumb at himself.
"Little brother, I'm the phantom thief Dofang."
"More like Dofang the braggat."
"What was that?"
"If he's looking for work, why doesn't he go to the rcenary Guild?"
"He's still a noble, isn't he? If word got out that a noble was working as a rcenary, he'd be ostracized from high society. In a worst-case scenario, he could even be kicked out of his family."
"Aha..."
So that's why Hudmilla hid her life as a rcenary and lived as the protagonist of the ridiculous story of having miraculously recovered after being asleep for a long ti with a chronic illness.
...These nobles.
'What a pain.'
"Anyway, that guy is guaranteed to make it to the round of sixteen."
"Looks like it."
While we were talking, the match concluded.
There was a short clash of swords, and then Flanco's blade was at his opponent's neck.
The tip of the sword pierced the skin just enough to prick the throat, like the leg of an ant.
Blood trickled down from the sword's point in a thin stream.
The rough-looking rcenary let out a sigh, dropped his sword with a clatter, and raised both hands.
"I surrender."
"Waaaaaah!"
The victory went to Flanco.
I turned to look at Dofang.
"So, what about that noble brat?"
"What do you an, 'what about him'?"
Dofang placed a hand on my shoulder and said.
"Little brother, surely you weren't planning on wasting your ti beating down guys like that one by one?"
"Then what?"
"Mm-mm. When would you ever cut them all down? That doesn't suit our temperant. There's no greater waste of ti."
"So what are you going to do?"
Dofang looked at with a aningful smile.
"Little brother, from today, your na is Flanco."
* * *
Around the ti Ashvan and Dofang were chatting while watching Flanco's match.
A woman, her head covered with a cloth like a veil, was walking briskly through the crowd gathered to watch the matches, looking around restlessly.
And right behind her, following her hurried steps, was a languid-looking man.
With every step he took, the sword at his waist swayed.
"Hwaaam..."
The man smacked his lips and called out to the woman walking ahead of him, who was busy looking around.
"Princess."
The woman, addressed as princess, quickly ca over to the man and put a finger to her lips.
"Shh! I told you not to call that."
"Ah, right."
The man casually corrected himself at her rebuke.
"Yeees... My lady. What is the reason for coming all the way out to District 3 on a secret excursion?"
"What do you an, what? I told you. I'm looking for a hero to stop the monster wave that will co down from the north."
"Ah, is that what you said?"
The man scratched his cheek and said.
"Can't we just go back and take a nap? I don't think much will change even if you try this hard, my lady."
The princess's eyes flashed.
"So you're telling to just stand by and watch? When the kingdom is on the verge of ruin?"
"The royal court said it was a miscalculation."
"I know you're not foolish enough to actually believe that, Sir Knight."
"Umm..."
The man, seemingly at a loss for words, let out a low hum for a mont before shrugging his shoulders.
"Well, if it really cos to that, it can't be helped. If the northern wall falls, we can defend the city here, or in the worst-case scenario, if all three walls are breached, I can escort you, Princess, and we can flee down to the Holy Empire."
"What about the people?"
"...My lady, are you being serious?"
The princess glared at the man for a mont, then spun around and strode away.
The man left behind let out a deep sigh and hurried after her.
"Wait a mont, my lady! Let's go together."
(End of Chapter)
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