Jin nearly crumbled at the sight before him. I stood beside him, lending my shoulder for support, when the Bandit King started walking toward us... with Garat still impaled on the tip of his raised axe...
Jin saw the Bandit King approaching and rose to his feet, body trembling with rage, murderous intent pouring from every pore. But at that moment, something about the Bandit King's demeanor struck me as a little off.
"You son of a bitch! That was clearly going too far, no matter how you look at it!" Jin's voice crashed down like a physical blow of killing intent, and the Bandit King's steps clearly faltered.
I grabbed Jin in a headlock to hold him back just as he looked ready to lunge at the Bandit King, and the Bandit King seemed somewhat relieved as he resumed walking.
"Let go! Don't stop me, Tenma!" "Hold on, Jin. Something's off! And look carefully — there's no blood flowing from Garat's body!"
Jin stared at Garat upon hearing my words. If the Bandit King had truly impaled Garat's body, there should have been a considerable amount of blood spurting out.
Seeing that Jin had calmed down, the Bandit King slowly lowered Garat — who had been hooked on the tip of his axe — to the ground outside the ring.
The Bandit King then turned toward the referee. The referee had been startled by the Bandit King's actions too, but he rushed over to Garat and confirmed that he was still alive.
"The winner — Amour!" At the referee's declaration, the Bandit King turned and headed back to the waiting room.
Many spectators were left dumbfounded by the scene, but the referee addressed the crowd, explaining that "the Bandit King's final strike was not aimed at Garat's life — it was an action to carry Garat out of the ring and defeat him safely."
The spectators accepted the referee's explanation and sent applause in the direction the Bandit King had walked, while also giving a round of applause for Garat, who had fought until he was battered beyond recognition.
Jin was relieved that Garat's heart was still beating, but remembering that even if Garat wasn't dead, he was seriously injured, he moved to hoist Garat onto his back and rush to the medical room.
"Wait, Jin. Let's at least do some first aid right here." Hearing my words, Jin lowered Garat from his back and laid him down on his side.
"'Cure'... 'Aqua Heal'." I cast two spells in succession to treat Garat.
Most of Garat's wounds healed, but whether he had hit his head when the Bandit King rolled him, he still hadn't regained consciousness.
As I finished casting, an attendant brought a stretcher, and Jin and I loaded Garat onto it and had him carried to the medical room.
According to the doctor waiting in the medical room, "Garat's life is not in danger. The injuries aren't serious since the magic took effect, but he hit his head, so he needs to rest as a precaution." He was currently lying in a bed in the medical room.
"I'm glad Garat is going to be fine... But that Bandit King..." "Jin, don't hold a grudge against the Bandit King over Garat... That was a match, after all. There's no point complaining about things that happened within the rules..." Menace patted Jin's shoulder to calm him. Lina had stepped away to handle Garat's treatment paperwork and such.
"I know, but still..." "No, you don't. If Tenma hadn't stopped you, you would have lunged at the Bandit King, right? Then you would have been disqualified, and Garat would have been humiliated too." Jin squirmed uncomfortably at Menace's words.
"Well, putting that aside — thank you, Tenma. Thanks to you, Garat's injuries aren't serious, and this idiot's eligibility wasn't revoked... Come on, bow your head too!"
"I get it... I'm really sorry, Tenma. I'm grateful." Jin was apologizing to me while Menace forced his head down.
"Well, that's fine, but... are you going to be okay for the team battle?"
Jin and his group had also advanced to the main tournament for the team battle, and the Dawn Sword was already participating with fewer members than the roster allowed. So being short even one person would be a significant handicap.
"Well, it can't be helped. Tomorrow is completely free, so it's a matter of how much Garat can recover by then... Worst case, we'll leave Garat out and do our best with just me, Menace, and Lina."
Normally, a party participating in both individual and team events would prepare the maximum six members to account for situations like this, but occasionally there were teams that ended up in this predicament anyway.
Even so, adding or changing members was not permitted, which meant the Dawn Sword would be forced into a grueling fight.
"That's not something you need to worry about, Tenma... Don't you dare fight until you end up in this kind of state. For us, even if we're missing one member, we can still participate in the tournament. But for your team, which is made up entirely of Familiars, if you retire, the whole team retires immediately."
What Menace was saying, in other words, was that the tournament was ultimately a tournament for humans, and participation by Familiars (Monsters) alone was not permitted. Since I was the only person registered in my team, if I couldn't participate, the team itself would lose its eligibility.
"Yeah, I'll keep that in mind." As we were talking, all the first-round matches seemed to be drawing to a close, and an attendant came looking for me.
"Tenma, your match is coming up soon. Please return to the waiting room." I nodded, stood up from my chair, and before heading back, pulled several potions and the like from my bag and handed them to Menace.
"If Garat wakes up, have him drink these." "Sorry about this, Tenma." Menace accepted them without fuss and stowed them in her own bag.
Jin said he wouldn't be called for the final match of the second round, so he'd be staying here until then.
After returning to the waiting room and loosening up a bit, the attendant came to tell me it was my turn.
My second-round opponent was a large axe wielder who had apparently made it to the main tournament in the previous competition. In terms of size, he was a good stand-in for the Bandit King, but I'd heard he had been utterly crushed by Ash in the last tournament, so the gap in ability was too vast for him to serve as useful reference.
When I stepped into the arena, my opponent hadn't appeared yet, and an attendant was frantically going to fetch him.
Even after the attendant went to call him from the waiting room, he didn't come right away, and when he did appear in the arena, he took his sweet time making his way over to me.
Wondering what he was doing, I watched my opponent and realized he seemed to be trying to get under my skin. He'd been grinning at me with that stupid smirk for a while now.
He was probably going for that classic "You're late, Musashi!" approach, but in a match with rules where taking too long could result in a loss by the referee's judgment, I couldn't imagine it working.
On top of that, before he could get on my nerves, he'd already gotten on the crowd's — there had been loud booing for a while now, making the atmosphere feel like an away game for Oggo.
The referee also seemed aware that Oggo was deliberately wasting time, and looked somewhat irritated himself.
"Main tournament, second round, first match — Tenma versus Oggo! Begin!"
Taking a closer look at the man called Oggo, he was a bit over two meters tall and probably well over a hundred kilograms. He had the unmistakable look of someone who relied on brute force, holding his axe in a wide, unthinking stance.
Without drawing my sword, I slipped into his range as a preliminary test and threw a left hook to his body... which landed square on his solar plexus. As a result, Oggo foamed at the mouth and collapsed in agony.
Oggo couldn't get back up, and the referee declared him defeated... Wait, seriously?
Even after being declared the loser, Oggo still couldn't stand, and eventually attendants had to support him under both arms to carry him out... Really? That's it?
I stood there stunned, watching Oggo being escorted away for a good while.
Incidentally, when Oggo was carried out, the crowd unleashed such tremendous booing that it felt like the entire arena was shaking, and the attendants struggled mightily to calm the spectators.
The referee sent me off right away, and I returned to the waiting room with that enormous booing at my back. I still felt unsettled even after getting back, so to clear my head, I went to visit Garat — only to be greeted by Jin and Menace with exasperated looks of "It's already over?" When I told them what happened, they burst out laughing... which earned them a scolding from the doctor and nurse, and for some reason I got dragged into it too.
There had been that surprise — an instant kill in the first match of the second round — but the subsequent matches were even more exciting than the day before.
My third-round opponent was also decided, and as expected, it was the third-place finisher from the last tournament.
The Bandit King's match ended just as swiftly. His opponent managed to dodge several attacks but was unable to land a single one and lost.
The next winner was the previous champion, who spent the entire match bullying his opponent. The crowd didn't react well to it. However, his opponent had also made it to the main tournament last time, and he'd won without taking any damage, so he clearly had real ability.
Eventually, the time for the final match of the second round arrived, and a fired-up Jin made his entrance.
Sadly, Jin's opponent was a young man making his first tournament appearance who had advanced to the main rounds — someone who could have been called a rising hope for the next generation. But he simply didn't have the power to contain Jin, who was burning with the desire to avenge Garat and defeat the Bandit King.
The match was one-sided from the very beginning, with a decisive outcome in roughly five minutes.
The young man was dejected that he could only endure Jin's attacks the entire time, but from my perspective, I was thinking, "He actually managed to withstand attacks from Jin in that state for five full minutes." It seemed some of the other spectators who watched the match shared a similar sentiment.
With Jin's match, the second round came to an end. Once the remaining matches had been cut in half, the tournament took a one-hour break.
The spectators used this time to buy lunch and such, but as competitors, we couldn't eat too much... Normally...
"Tenma, seconds!" For some reason, Jin had come to my waiting room and was helping himself to my lunch.
My lunch was porridge. I'd made it by taking the napa cabbage and chicken left at the mansion and turning them into a soup like a traditional zōni, then mixing in white rice I'd cooked and stored earlier along with beaten egg. Being porridge, it was easy on the stomach, and with the chicken and egg, it was packed with nutrition... presumably. Probably.
Among the participating fighters, those who were still in the tournament couldn't leave to the spectator seats or outside the venue, so we had to request food and drinks through the attendants.
However, there wasn't much on the menu the attendants offered that I wanted to eat, so while I was in the middle of cooking in the waiting room with permission, Jin — who had been kicked out of the medical room — showed up, and here we were.
"Jin... no matter how easy it is to digest, eating a ton of it defeats the purpose..." "It's fine! My match is the last one, so I've got plenty of time to digest!"
Jin shoveled the porridge into his mouth without caring about my complaints. Even though I'd made extra because of his arrival, it looked like there wouldn't be any left for me at this rate, so I started eating too.
After finishing his porridge, Jin lay down on his side and spoke to me.
"What do you make of the Bandit King, Tenma?"
"Just like you said, he seems a lot younger than we expected. And judging from his fight with Garat, he didn't seem accustomed to ambushes or being thrown off balance." Jin nodded in agreement.
"Pretty much the same impression... But my fighting style leans closer to the Bandit King's, so it's probably going to be a head-on brawl."
Jin said that, but he'd been planning on a straight-up slugfest from the start. He could probably pull off ambushes and feints if he wanted to, but even he couldn't fight the way Garat did.
So his fighting strategy naturally fell into place.
In other words, going head-on gave him a better chance of winning than forcing himself to imitate Garat.
"All right then... I'll head back to Garat. Thanks for the meal, Tenma." Jin sprang to his feet, gave a wave with one hand, and left my waiting room... leaving the mess he'd made behind him...
For now, I bundled up the dishes and whatnot and stuffed them into my bag, then lay down on the bench to grab whatever sleep I could.
Physically I had plenty of energy left, but the mental fatigue was greater than I'd expected, and I dozed off almost immediately.
After a while, I sensed someone approaching the waiting room, and my consciousness snapped fully awake from a half-asleep state.
"Tenma, your match is approaching. Please get ready." It was an attendant who had come over; they knocked on the waiting room door before delivering the message.
"Understood." "I'll come to call you again in about ten minutes, so please be ready by then."
When it came to preparation, my well-worn leather armor and such were quick to put on, so there was nothing to do but loosen up.
My third-round opponent was the third-place finisher from the last tournament. I'd checked his matches, which raised a small question in my mind, but now wasn't the time to dwell on it.
He was a thirty-five-year-old tiger beastkin named Branca. Contrary to his appearance, he preferred overwhelming opponents with technique rather than brute force.
His weapon of choice was the spear, but for both the first and second rounds, he'd replaced the spearhead with a wooden tip, fighting with his strength suppressed the entire way through.
For a moment I considered wanting to fight Branca with a spear, but a spear-vs-spear matchup would only put me at a disadvantage, so I decided to hold back this time.
As I was getting a feel for Kogarumaru, time had apparently passed without me noticing, and an attendant came to escort me... Normally, attendants would only call out for you rather than come get you, but after the incident with Oggo, they'd decided to accompany fighters to prevent any crowd disturbances.
Almost at the same moment I stepped into the arena, Branca entered from the opposite side.
The moment Branca laid eyes on me, his expression turned ferocious. I wondered if he was angry for a second, but he didn't feel angry — if anything, he looked like he was enjoying himself. That ferocious look was probably just what happened when he got excited.
He stopped right after entering the arena, let a small smile play across his lips, and then tore the cloth wrapped around his spear's tip. Underneath was a spearhead made of white metal — a bit hard to make out from a distance, but it was likely crafted from Orichalcum.
It seemed Branca had acknowledged me as a worthy opponent and was taking this tournament seriously for the first time.
When Branca and I reached the center of the arena, the referee observed us and was about to raise his right hand, but Branca called for a wait.
"Hey, you're Tenma, right? You sure that tiny little weapon is going to cut it? You'll get skewered before you even get close to me!"
Branca said this while eyeing my weapon, but it didn't really sound like he was mocking me.
"Let me ask you the opposite — are you sure about that weapon? Won't it get in your way if someone gets inside your guard?"
At my retort, Branca grinned, baring his fangs.
"What a cheeky brat... Don't regret running your mouth!"
The referee raised his right hand.
"Then make me regret it!"
At the same moment as my words, the referee swung his right hand down and shouted something.
Branca and I launched forward at the referee's signal.
Even while running, Branca kept the tip of his spear locked onto my body.
I, on the other hand, kept Kogarumaru sheathed at my hip and focused on dodging Branca's first strike.
The instant I entered spear range, Branca launched a razor-sharp thrust.
The speed exceeded my expectations, and the chest of my leather armor was slightly gouged, but I managed to evade and tried to slip inside Branca's guard.
But Branca wouldn't allow it — the moment I dodged, he switched to a horizontal sweep with his spear.
The spear passed right under my arm, and I couldn't dodge in time. My body was sent flying sideways.
However, since there was very little space between the spear and my body, I didn't take much damage.
I'd thought the first strike was Branca's full-power thrust the moment I dodged it, but seeing how he'd instantly switched to a horizontal sweep told me the spear's speed could still increase.
I landed solidly, but distance had opened up between Branca and me, resetting the fight.
This time I drew my blade in advance and charged at Branca again.
Branca dropped his center of gravity and set his spear, then unleashed a rapid succession of thrusts against my charge.
The speed was slower than before, but the unrelenting series of thrusts would be impossible to track with ordinary visual acuity.
I tried to close the distance while deflecting the spear with my blade, but Branca varied the speed of his thrusts to keep me off balance.
I expected Branca's thrusts to slow down eventually, but there was no sign of them weakening, and from the audience seats, it must have looked like I was completely unable to go on the offensive.
When I pulled back, Branca pulled back too.
And when I moved, Branca moved too, unleashing another barrage of spear strikes.
The difference in reach between my blade and his spear meant my attacks couldn't reach Branca, but since I hadn't been hit cleanly by any of his attacks so far, the fight was still even in substance.
"Tenma, I'm about to get serious." Branca said this while continuing his barrage of spear strikes.
"Anytime. I'll get serious too." I said it like a quip, but inwardly I was somewhat surprised that what came before wasn't his real effort.
Right after Branca said he was getting serious, his barrage changed.
What had been straightforward thrusts now incorporated rotation.
I tried to brush aside one of the rotating thrusts with my blade, and my sword was sent flying.
I managed not to let go of the blade entirely, but in exchange my stance was broken. I narrowly dodged what would have been a direct hit from Branca at the last possible instant.
However, Branca's strike had grazed my leather armor, shearing off part of it and rendering it unusable.
"Damn it, this thing's useless now... I was pretty fond of it too!"
I grumbled while removing the leather armor I'd been wearing for so long, though my eyes never left Branca.
For some reason, Branca politely waited until I finished removing my armor.
"Heh, at least it was just the leather armor. I was really planning to finish it with that strike!"
Seeing that I'd finished removing my armor, Branca set his spear once more.
Taking another hit like that would be trouble, so this time I decided to fight using my legs.
Branca's rotating thrusts were certainly threatening, but they weren't without weaknesses.
He seemed to add the rotation by twisting his arm, so when his arm was fully extended, there was a brief moment when the movement stopped. To compensate, Branca kept his reach shorter than his initial thrusts, partially alleviating the disadvantage in range.
This meant I could close in about twenty to thirty centimeters closer than before, and it seemed like I was just about within striking distance.
The instant I timed my counterattack, Branca's thrust suddenly extended.
The reason was simple — the rotation had vanished from the thrust. Branca had noticed I was timing my counter, and instead used that timing against me to extend his reach.
Branca grinned fearlessly as he counter-countered my counterattack, but that was exactly the strike I'd been waiting for.
I'd known a master of Branca's caliber would notice my counter, so I'd carefully varied my movements and stepped in — and sure enough, the rotation vanished from his thrust as he extended his range. The moment it became nothing more than a fast, non-rotating thrust, I took one step forward and grabbed the base of the spearhead.
Branca was startled by the sudden turn of events and tried to yank the spear back, but in the next instant realized that was a mistake and tried to slam the spear into the ground instead — but he was too late.
"G-guhhhh..."
The moment Branca's thrust changed, I let go of my blade, drew the scabbard from my hip, and drove it forward with a kick.
The result was that the scabbard, carrying both the force of my kick and the momentum of Branca pulling his spear, was driven into his chest.
However, Branca had apparently cast magic on the point of impact at the last second to boost his defenses, so that single blow wasn't enough to put him down.
Branca swung his spear to knock me back and forcibly created distance.
When he swung the spear, Branca's face twitched slightly with pain, so the hit hadn't been completely without effect.
I summoned the blade and scabbard that had left my hands back to me.
I re-sheathed the scabbard at my hip, held the blade in a middle guard, and faced off against Branca.
From the audience seats, I could hear surprised cheers at the sudden appearance of the blade and scabbard in my hands, but I didn't have the luxury of paying attention to that right now.
Because Branca had been emanating killing intent for a while now. And not just a little — it was thick and intense.
It wasn't as though I'd never faced someone radiating killing intent before, but having this level of it directed at me by a human being — that was a first.
"Te-emma... Don't hold a grudge even if you die..."
At those words, Branca's figure vanished — or rather, he appeared to vanish. The end result was the same: I'd lost sight of him for a split second.
The instant after I lost sight of Branca, killing intent surged from behind my left shoulder, threatening to swallow me whole.