This one's short.
The day after the tournament, a luncheon was held for the participants.
At the time, Branca had been in such high spirits that I asked Amour—who had been trailing behind me—what was going on, and it turned out Sana was pregnant.
Apparently Branca himself had given up on ever having children, so he'd been on cloud nine ever since the night before, overjoyed at this sudden turn of happiness.
"I get that he's happy and celebrating, but... going that far is kind of creepy."
"Indeed," several voices echoed in unison.
My muttered comment drew murmurs of agreement from those around me. The people surrounding me, as it turned out, were the top-ranked fighters from the South who had gone all-out against Branca during the Preliminary. They all apparently wanted to congratulate Branca, but since they were already intimidating-looking people to begin with, and they had no idea how to approach someone like Branca—who was walking around with a swollen face yet grinning from ear to ear—they had come to me first instead. Incidentally, these top-ranked fighters were all older than Branca, and every bit as fierce-looking as he was.
Branca, who was being closely watched by everyone, had been following Sana around for a while now, making sure she was safe from even the slightest danger.
"By the way, what's going on with that over there?"
"Don't worry about that."
What we had pointed at was Baron Robo, who was drinking as though he were bathing in alcohol. He too was crying while he drank, so everyone was keeping their distance from him. Honestly, Branca was plenty creepy, but Baron Robo was every bit as unsettling.
Amour didn't elaborate any further, but from what I gathered from the people around me, since Hana had been granted a viscountcy by the kingdom, Baron Robo—an honorary viscount—had been dragged down from his position as leader of the Southern Autonomous Region. On top of that, the one who had originally built Nanao's foundation was Hana's grandfather, old man Kei, so his people and subordinates had accepted the change in leadership very favorably.
"Also, I've decided to go with Tenma."
"Huh? What did you just say?"
The way she said it so casually left me momentarily unable to process what Amour had just said, and I asked her to repeat herself in a dumbfounded voice.
"Under the pretense of expanding my horizons... I'll be imposing on Tenma. This already has"
Gramps'
approval as well."
"Grandpa?!"
I asked Gramps—whom I'd summoned away from his sake tasting—why he'd agreed to look after Amour. And so,
"Simply put, it was to secure an escape route. I don't distrust Alex and the others, but they're royals, and no matter how they look, they have to put the kingdom first. Depending on the circumstances, they might be forced into a situation where they'd have to eliminate us. For times like that, we need connections in the Southern Autonomous Region—a place even Alex and his lot can't just waltz into and attack. Well, I doubt any of them would actually think that way, but it's always wise to prepare for the worst."
Or so he said. Well, it was hard to imagine the King doing us harm, but if the Reformist Faction ever gained enough power to overshadow the Royalist Faction, it wasn't unthinkable.
The south had always been a place the kingdom struggled to conquer, and furthermore, there were no hostile nations nearby. Technically, beyond a few stretches of forest, there were nations called the "Small Country Cluster," but in reality, each one consisted of only a few thousand people at most. If every nation in the Small Country Cluster banded together, they might be able to form an army numbering in the tens of thousands, but the consensus was that such a ragtag bunch would pose very little danger.
Besides, if we kept fixating on the south, the neighboring countries bordering the kingdom might seize the opportunity to invade all at once—so the Southern Autonomous Region was quite possibly the ideal escape haven.
"This is a deal that benefits both sides, so I went ahead and made the decision on my own."
"I get that, but… what did you get out of it?"
"…I didn't get anything."
Gramps tried to play innocent under my interrogation, but after I kept pressing him, he finally caved and confessed that he'd received southern-produced liquor. Apparently, he'd gotten four kame—large containers holding twenty liters each—of a premium hundred-year aged shochu.
According to Gramps, after the discussion about taking in Amour was settled, the conversation turned to southern specialties, and when liquor came up, he mentioned he'd been quite taken with the southern brews. Hana then offered to set some aside for him specially. He insisted he hadn't been bribed, but there was absolutely an expectation behind it.
For now, I accepted the arrangement on the grounds that it was a decision made by the head of our household—not of the Ootori family, but of the estate here in the Royal Capital. However, since it was pretty clear I'd be the one stuck with all the trouble, I made sure to claim half of Gramps's haul—two kame—for myself. I figured Gramps would just drink the whole lot on his own, so I'd use mine for gifts to acquaintances.
The boisterous lunch party was finally drawing to a close when a single armed man came running up to Hana. Everyone's attention shifted to Hana's grave expression and the breathless man, but once the tension drained from her face, they all went back to eating and drinking.
When the man finally stepped away from Hana, Gramps, Amour, and I headed over to ask what had happened. At the same time, Branca—who had been trailing behind Sana the whole time—and a completely wasted Viscount Robo showed up as well. Although, Hana apparently judged that Viscount Robo was far too drunk to be of any use and had sent him off to a corner of the venue to sober up.
"I know it was worrying, but it sounds like the problem's been resolved. In short, the unit that had finished mopping up the goblins spotted two wyverns heading toward Nanao on their way back and took them down right then. There were quite a few injuries, but apparently nobody was in life-threatening condition and there were no deaths."
Hana wore an expression of relief as she casually grabbed a nearby cup, downed its contents in one gulp, and immediately called for several more refills. The cups gave off a fairly strong alcoholic scent, but Hana didn't appear the least bit tipsy.
"The real issue is that a lot of people saw the wyverns flying overhead. Unluckily, it seems a merchant caravan and a group of travelers from the Royal Capital were near the unit at the time. Well, the unit took them down before the wyverns could attack, so there were hardly any casualties… but in the worst case, merchant caravans and travelers visiting the south might start to decline."
Even if there had been casualties among merchants or travelers, the Viscount's family didn't necessarily bear direct responsibility. However, if word got out and caravans became reluctant to come south, it would deal a serious blow to the local economy.
"We need to do something about this, but merchant caravans and travelers are supposed to arrive in Nanao the day after tomorrow… What should we do?"
When it came to seeking advice, Branca wasn't much help, Amour was useless, and Viscount Robo was completely out of the question. The only one who might have been reliable, Sana, was surrounded by aunties celebrating her pregnancy and showed no signs of breaking free. Perhaps that was why Hana kept glancing at Gramps and me with a look that seemed to expect something.
"Hmm, if that's the case, then the best thing to do is give them something that makes them forget their worries entirely… Got any ideas, Tenma?"
"Well, what if we invited those merchant caravans and travelers to a celebration for the wyvern subjugation? That might ease some of their worries."
"It's a good idea, but it's not quite enough on its own... It might work for the travelers, but I don't think it would have much effect on the merchants."
From Gramps, the
Path
came, and I blurted out the first thing that came to mind on the spot, but naturally, it couldn't just be adopted as-is.
"Then how about we spin the wyvern as a blessing from the heavens and hold a thanksgiving ritual, turning it into a festival for all of Nanao? The bigger the festival, the more it might ease people's worries."
"Hmm... It could use one more push."
Though Hana said Branca's idea felt a bit lacking, she was already jotting it down as bullet points on the table nearby.
"Come to think of it, what about the taxes charged when entering Nanao?"
Normally, when entering a large city like Nanao, you'd be charged an entry tax. However, in Gramps's and my case, since we were envoys from the royal family, that topic never came up. When I asked about it, apparently Nanao did indeed collect taxes upon entry as standard, granting permission to stay for a set period.
"Then why not, for this occasion only, waive the entry tax for the merchant caravans and travelers, and even reduce the taxes on buying and selling goods?"
"That's a bit tough..."
"Sister, why not give it a try? Direct tax revenue would decrease, but if they spend that money at the festival instead, the loss wouldn't be all that significant. And if word of this gets around, merchant caravans that have never come to the south before might become interested too. If we're tying it to the ritual, I think going that far would make it much more effective."
Hana had been reluctant about my proposal, but Sana, who had quietly crept over at some point, spoke up in favor of it. With that, Hana decided to adopt my idea, and the two of them began working out the details. Meanwhile, Branca appeared to be selecting participants for the ritual. Apparently, the slots were as follows: three from the Viscount's household, two guest slots—which meant Gramps and I were expected to participate—and three from everyone else. She said she would have liked something on a grander scale, but time was short and she wanted the strongest fighters available, so the remaining three would be chosen from those present.
"Anyway, I'm fine with participating, but what exactly does the ritual involve? Given that you want strong people, I can guess it's some kind of combat format..."
"Ah, I should probably explain first. This ritual is a one-on-one combat called 'sumo.' Fighters wrestle with their bare bodies on a ring called a dohyo. The basic rules are: strikes with knees, elbows, or closed fists, biting, attacks targeting vital points, and the use of magic are all fouls. Other than that, you win by forcing your opponent off the dohyo or making anything other than the soles of their feet touch the ground."
There were apparently a number of other rules as well, but they seemed largely consistent with the sumo I knew. Branca said she'd explain the finer details later and began gathering everyone to finalize the other participants. Before long, nearly everyone at the lunch declared they would take part in the ritual, and ignoring Branca's dilemma, they went ahead and started the preliminary rounds on the spot.
Since it was a good opportunity, Gramps and I decided to stick around and watch this world's version of sumo while eating and drinking at the sand-covered venue. I'd worried someone might object to our having been given special slots, but no one raised an issue, and the matches progressed at a brisk pace one after another. Occasionally, competitors would come flying toward where we sat after being pushed or thrown from the dohyo, but I couldn't tell whether it was intentional or just coincidence.
And the three who ultimately prevailed were...
"There are no top-ranked fighters from the south, huh."
"That's right."
The top-ranked fighters who had been considered strong contenders were all eliminated in the first round. Even the usual top performers apparently couldn't showcase their full strength while drunk. The ones who seized their spots in the tournament were the boar beastman, the bear beastman, and the tiger beastman.
"Then, I'm counting on you three for the day of the event. I think you already understand this, but since we're conducting sumo as a sacred ritual, make no mistake—any form of cheating will be met with severe punishment."
Branca glared at the three as he delivered his warning. All three listened obediently, though they occasionally shot sharp glances my way. It seemed they believed they could beat me in a contest of pure physical strength without magic.
"As for the Viscount's household, my decision is..."
"Of course, count me in too!"
"Denied."
Amour, who had been standing behind me so quietly she was practically invisible, leaped out in front of Branca with a burst of energy as she declared her participation—but Branca shut her down immediately.
Amour grumbled about it, but sumo in this world followed the same style as in my previous life: wrestlers stripped to a loincloth, so women were essentially banned from participating. However, at one point, a trend of deliberately trying to flash everything had become popular, so now wrestlers wore shorts underneath the loincloth.
"Well, aside from me, it'd be best to pick from the squad that slayed the wyvern."
Branca casually excluded Viscount Robo from the selection, but none of the people listening around us raised any objections. Perhaps he had judged that sending yesterday's top performer into the match was out of the question—or maybe he had simply forgotten.
Those who had been selected were gathered by Ms. Hana for a quick rules briefing and explanation before being dismissed early. Apparently, they still had to announce the festival throughout all of Nanao, build the dohyo, negotiate stall locations and taxes, and handle a whole host of other arrangements. It was an incredibly tight schedule—they had only two days including today, the only available buffer day was the day after tomorrow when the merchant caravan and travelers were set to arrive, and the festival itself was the day after that.
As a result, Branca was also dragged off to help, leaving no one to teach Gramps and me the rules of sumo. When we considered asking Amour, she said that while she could explain the general rules, she had never participated in sumo as a sacred ritual and therefore couldn't teach us the proper procedures for the entrance ceremony and other formalities.
While I was worrying about this, I spotted Viscount Robo out of the corner of my eye, but he still hadn't sobered up, and there was a high chance he was nursing a grudge against me over the Amour incident—so I decided to hold off on approaching him as a last resort.
Just as Gramps and I were discussing whether we might have Branca walk us through it at the last minute, the top-ranked southern fighters who had been eliminated in the first round offered to serve as our instructors. Apparently, they had nothing to do and were bored, and this was also a way of getting back at the opponents who had defeated them... It was completely petty revenge, but we were grateful for the help, so we accepted.
"So, you line up in a row along the edge of the dohyo and stop at equal intervals. Then you clap once facing the inside of the ring, bow, turn to face outward, clap once again, and bow again. After that, you step off the dohyo, and then the ones who've been called face each other and step onto the ring... That's about right, yeah?"
"That's right. Once you step on the ring, grab a handful of salt from the pile at the side and scatter it across the dohyo, then move to the line in the center... Actually, it'd probably be faster to just show you."
And so we jumped right into practical training. It seemed these guys weren't the type who were good at explaining things verbally. Well, we didn't have much time anyway, and honestly, this worked better for me too, so I was grateful.
After practicing the ring-entering ceremony several times, we moved on to actual sumo bouts. Since there were four top-ranked fighters present, they split into two pairs—one served as a practice opponent while the other watched from outside and corrected any fouls or violations of etiquette.
"Once you actually try it, I'm at a pretty huge disadvantage, huh." At the practice stage, I suffered defeat after defeat against one of the top-ranked fighters. I was told my etiquette and rule-following were fine, but winning was what mattered. Meanwhile, Gramps was putting up a fight on equal footing against a top-ranked opponent.
"Grrraaagh... There!"
With Gramps' fierce battle cry, the top-ranked fighter he'd been facing was hurled clean off the dohyo. That apparently made it six straight victories for Gramps. To be fair, he'd lost the first four bouts, but once he got the hang of sumo, he'd been steamrolling the top-ranked fighters with rock-solid wins.
"Mm-hm! I'll make up for the last tournament and then some! I'm going for the championship!"
"That's incredible, Gramps. I'm just hoping to get past the first round."
While Gramps had set a bold target based on his practice form, I kept my goals realistic.