Night had fallen, cloaking everything in darkness.
"Mmph, mmph!"
There were n gagged and bound, their hands and feet tied tightly, loaded onto a cart like cargo.
Had anyone seen the sight, they would have been startled.
This was because, even at a glance, they exuded an aura that was anything but ordinary.
Every single one of them was skilled enough to have made it to the main tournant of the swordsmanship competition hosted by the Second Prince.
"Hey!"
"..."
"Hey, Schmidt. Catch!"
"..."
"That's right. Fill it up from the inside. Stack 'em up neatly."
I stared blankly at the two n who were lifting and carrying the n, who were wriggling like caterpillars with their limbs bound, as if they were sacks of luggage.
Dofang was tossing them, and Schmidt was catching them and shoving them into a dark warehouse.
"...Brother Dofang."
"Oh, little brother, you're here?"
I had co because Dofang had given the address and told to co here.
What in the world was going on in the middle of the night?
It was only a few days ago that he had said, "Hahaha, little brother, you just focus on your condition. We'll take care of things and be back. Hahahaha!" before dragging Schmidt away.
The main tournant was tomorrow.
But when on earth did they manage to kidnap all these guys without anyone noticing?
"Mmph, mmph!"
Among them was Flanco, the one with the white band around his head.
Dofang untied the white band from his head and tossed it to .
"Here, catch, Mr. Flanco."
I caught the man's white band, bewildered, and said.
"Hey, Brother Dofang! What is all this?"
I had expected him to kidnap Flanco.
What I hadn't anticipated, however, was that he would kidnap more than just Flanco.
"Just a second, little brother. Just need to get this last one in. Ugh! Last one, Schmidt. Treat him comfortably, hahahaha!"
Schmidt grinned from the darkness and took the man Dofang had tossed, throwing him into the back of the warehouse like a piece of luggage.
"So? Who are all these guys? Weren't you just supposed to grab that Flanco guy?"
Dofang casually slung an arm around my shoulders and said.
"Hey now, little brother. Even if it's the main tournant, there are still sixteen contestants. When were you going to find the ti to beat them all down?"
"Then?"
"I only brought the ones you're supposed to fight. Flanco is in Group 8, right?"
"I don't know. I was just planning to go out when they called my na."
"Flanco was in Group 8, so you're in Group 8."
"Then why did you ask?"
"We had so ti left over on the way back from grabbing Flanco, so Schmidt and I went and nabbed all the guys from Groups 5, 6, 7, and 8."
"What?"
Dofang winked one eye.
"What do you think, good job, right?"
The Heavenly Demon laughed heartily.
[How refreshing.]
"You crazy..."
Dofang pointed at Schmidt, who was erging from the darkness of the warehouse.
"It was Schmidt's idea. That guy, he's got a fiery side to him, unlike how he looks. A true Sherwood."
I looked where he was pointing and saw Schmidt erging from the darkness with a grin.
He was making a V-sign with his fingers.
It was as if he were saying, 'I did good, right?'
Dofang patted my shoulder.
"Don't worry, little brother. Like I said, I only brought the guys you're scheduled to fight. It would've been too obvious if we touched the guys from Groups 1, 2, 3, and 4, so we left them alone."
"It's already extrely obvious, you blockheads."
What kind of idiot would see that 7 out of 16 contestants have disappeared and just think, 'Oh, I guess that's how it is~' and move on?
"Little brother. Don't you worry. Just trust in the phantom thief Dofang."
"No, Brother Dofang. Even setting that aside. I need to warm up too. What am I supposed to do if you capture them all like this?"
Dofang raised his index finger as if he had a plan.
"Ah, you don't need to worry about that. The guys here are all diocre. There's a pretty decent guy in Group 2. He'll definitely make it to the finals, so you can warm up by beating the crap out of him."
"...Sigh."
What a bunch of crazy bastards.
A smile crept onto my lips on its own.
"You've got to admit, those Sherwood guys are out of their minds."
"You an this?"
For a mont, the three of us—Dofang, Schmidt, and I—shared a sinister laugh under the faint moonlight.
The Heavenly Demon chuckled.
[They say green is just another shade of the sa color. Birds of a feather flock together.]
Was it just my imagination, or did the Heavenly Demon's words sound like a complint?
[It's your imagination.]
I see.
"So, where are we?"
"Ah, here?"
Creeak—
Dofang closed the warehouse door and said nonchalantly.
"Welco to my temporary residence, little brother. A bit shabby, isn't it?"
"...Temporary residence?"
"It's such a humble place, I couldn't just bring guests here rashly. Ah, little brother Schmidt. If you touch that carelessly—"
CRACK!
"...it breaks. Hahaha! It breaks spectacularly."
As they say, it's darkest under the lamp.
To think he had set up his temporary residence not just anywhere, but in District 2, right under the noses of the nobles he had robbed.
I couldn't tell if he was crazy or just had a lot of nerve.
Maybe both.
Well... whatever.
"I'm looking forward to tomorrow."
Thanks to my family, it looked like I was going to make it to the finals without a single fight.
* * *
"Brax of Minota! Co forth!"
"..."
"Brax of Minota! Is he not here?"
"..."
"I will count to ten. If he does not appear by then, he will be disqualified. 10, 9, 8..."
But as the count continued, there was no sign of Brax of Minota appearing.
Of course not. The man was probably tied up and stuffed in Dofang's warehouse.
"3, 2, 1. As Brax of Minota has not appeared, he is disqualified. The winner is Flanco Fatima!"
I bit my lip mournfully and muttered just loud enough to be heard.
"I had intended to show my true skills this ti. Keuk! What a sha."
"..."
The reaction from the arena was ice-cold.
And for good reason. Half of the day's matches had ended without a proper fight.
[Haaam...]
The Heavenly Demon yawned, bored.
Murmur, murmur.*l
The nobles of all stripes who had co to watch were whispering amongst themselves under their luxurious canopies.
Our chubby Second Prince, sitting in the most extravagant seat over there, also looked quite displeased.
But what could be done? This is how things turned out.
Did anyone tell them not to show up?
Integrity is part of a fair fight, I tell you.
The early bird gets the worm, so how could a lazy latecor possibly get the sweet fruit?
Not a chance.
I watched the chubby Second Prince, wondering what he ate to get so plump, then looked at the knight standing in attendance behind him.
I spread my ki sense to feel his ki signature, and the result...
"Hmm."
It was a little less than I expected.
As the knight of the Maia Kingdom's Second Prince, he seed to be projecting his aura boldly, without hiding anything, in order to uphold his master's dignity.
If the royal knights I had seen in Blake were like dark, murky ponds whose depths were unseen, he was a completely transparent pond.
But even that wasn't very deep.
Did this an the level of the Maia Kingdom's knights was lower than that of the Blake Kingdom?
That couldn't be right.
The Maia Kingdom, where magical beasts road, was a world of survival of the fittest, where the strong survived.
Compared to the Maia Kingdom, the Blake Kingdom was enjoying an era of unparalleled peace.
The Blake Kingdom was wary of invasions from neighboring countries, but this place had to kill the magical beasts rampaging within its own borders.
Co to think of it, I had heard sowhere that the true knights of the Maia Kingdom were all in the north.
If that was the case, then here, in Milgard, the capital of the Maia Kingdom...
It occurred to that the knights who had settled down in this place, a warm greenhouse protected by a triple wall, might not be very knightly knights.
They were probably just good-for-nothings who were skilled at sucking up to the nobles or royalty, and had thus secured positions by their side.
In reality, how many fights would there be in this city, surrounded by three thick walls?
They probably just played politics, and occasionally drew their swords in public to make threats or strike a pose.
Seeing as the bosses of District 3 still held sway over the back alleys, it seed they weren't doing a good job of maintaining public order either.
...Or were they taking bribes?
In any case, my conclusion was that the knights worthy of the na were, as rumored, either guarding the northern wall in the north, or at the very least, not in the capital.
They were probably busy protecting their territories from magical beasts, or running around like Fluffy, beating down magical beasts that hard people.
With those thoughts, I t the eyes of the so-called master of the Jet-Black Sword for a mont before stepping down from the arena.
As I descended, the white band tied around my head like Flanco's fluttered in the air.
Dofang, Schmidt, and Linda, dressed like nobles in clothes they had stolen from who-knows-where, greeted warmly.
"Amazing, demon! They all ran away because they were scared of the demon, right?"
Linda, who didn't know the situation, made her own guess, and I nodded with a confident expression.
"That's ."
Linda was purely impressed.
"Woooow! So this is what it ans to win without fighting!"
Her eyes sparkled as she looked at .
The Heavenly Demon clicked his tongue.
[Do you really want to tease that innocent child so much?]
"It's fun."
[That it is. Tease her more.]
"Confird."
Schmidt was dozing off, seemingly bored by the matches.
Dofang grinned and said to .
"Little brother. Did you conserve so energy?"
"Unintentionally."
"You're about to fight soon, so you should warm up."
As he said that, Dofang gestured with his eyes toward a man climbing onto the stage.
His na was Begion, and he was enormous.
Not only was he huge, but he was also nimble, making him look quite tricky to deal with.
Begion strode onto the arena stage with a stoic face, and without even glancing at his opponent who ca up from the other side, he glared at .
Screee—
He even drew his sword and pointed it at .
He seed to have quite a few complaints.
"Hey, where are you looking? Can't you see ?"
His opponent, angered by Begion's dismissive behavior, turned red in the face.
Soon, the match began with the referee's shout, and the naless opponent charged at Begion, thoroughly enraged.
Even then, Begion didn't spare his opponent a glance.
"You arrogant-!"
KAGANG!
The sound of clashing steel was heard, and in the next mont, the two n had their backs to each other.
"Keo... heok!"
The opponent who had charged in anger collapsed with a pained groan, while Begion, still not taking his eyes off , let his sword hang down.
"Winner! Begion of Yukata!"
The nobles watching sent a smattering of applause for his surprising martial skill.
Do nobles applaud elegantly too?
It was a truly lackluster applause.
Whatever.
Begion raised the sword he had let hang and pointed it directly at .
"You, coward. You who knows no honor. Co up here."
At the unexpected performance, people's attention turned to .
I looked at the referee, and the referee gave a slight nod.
I imdiately got up from my seat and walked toward the arena.
"Go get 'em, demon!"
"Hey, hey Schmidt. The main event is starting now."
I left Linda's cheers and the sound of Dofang waking the dozing Schmidt behind and stepped onto the stage.
Begion glared at and said.
"You used dirty tricks in a sacred competition."
"What are you talking about?"
"Don't play dumb. It's disgusting. Did you poison their food?"
"I'm telling you, I don't know anything about it. Maybe they all went off to have diarrhea together in solidarity."
I shrugged my shoulders and maintained my ignorance.
Begion's eyes grew cold.
"Flanco of the white headband."
"What, punk."
"I didn't see you as that kind of person. I'm disappointed. This will bring sha upon the honor of the Fatima family. What were you thinking? You foolish man. Do you think His Highness is unaware of your vile sche?"
"You talk a lot."
I looked at Begion, who was earnestly denouncing my faults.
He was certainly a different breed.
If Flanco had participated in the tournant as planned, that guy would have been the winner.
Begion pulled his lips into a cold sneer.
"Whatever you did, if you ca this far like that, your skills are obvious. Did you think you could beco His Highness's knight just by reaching the finals? His Highness has surely seen through your base actions. A damp, dark dungeon awaits you after this match."
As he went on, I let out a small yawn.
"However, before that, I will carry out your sentence myself. As paynt for ruining the sacred competition opened by His Highness, I will take your honor, along with one of your arms. Do not think of holding a sword with that filthy hand ever again."
"Do as you please."
It was Flanco's honor that would fall, not mine.
Begion raised his sword and took his stance.
It was a clean stance. Knightly.
A solid aura, with no easily discernible openings, emanated from him as he took his stance.
"Are you ready?"
But... compared to that grim reaper-like, heavy knight I had seen in the southern region, he was endlessly light.
I responded lightly to his provocation.
"I, Flanco Fatima, will defeat you, staking my one and only na."
Originally, I had planned to warm up by moderately beating up my opponent in the finals, but seeing the state of the guy striking a pose behind the chubby Second Prince, I felt there was no need.
He didn't even reach the level of the First Prince's knights I had fought in the final battle, let alone the royal knights of Blake.
For a prince's direct knight of a nation to be only this much.
What a disgrace to Maia.
"Begin!"
At the referee's signal, Begion charged with a fearso montum.
It was enough to create the illusion of a bear charging on all fours.
I didn't draw my sword.
I didn't feel the need.
I simply extended one hand, fingers straight, and pointed at the chest of the man charging like a bear.
I activated the Snow Branch Blue Fla Art, and hung a ball of fla art and ice art on each fingertip.
Pure white cold energy on my index finger, and deep blue fla on my middle finger.
When combined, a tiny sphere of light was created. It was the size of a fingernail. How cute.
But seeing it flash madly between white and blue, it wasn't entirely cute.
"You!"
Begion closed the distance in an instant and swung his sword at .
I flicked the miniaturized Heaven-Reversing Light toward his chest.
"Bang."
Simultaneously, I instantly spread the White Snow Cold Curtain from my fingertips throughout my entire body to absorb the impact.
BOOM!
A small explosion occurred, and the huge body flew through the air and landed in the spectator seats.
CRACK!
A commotion arose as one side of the spectator seats was smashed.
Ignoring the commotion, I kept my outstretched fingers aid directly at the master of the Jet-Black Sword, who was striking a pose behind the Second Prince.
"You. Co out."
Seeing his wide-open eyes and slightly parted mouth, I felt a small happiness.
Is this what they call a small but certain happiness?
(End of Chapter)
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