"I hereby declare the opening of the Victory Prayer Imperial Martial Arts Festival, hosted by the Royal Family!"
Caesar-sama's voice announcing the commencement echoed throughout the Arena.
A moment later, a thunderous roar erupted from the Audience Seats and among the participants lined up in the Arena, as though the very grounds were shaking.
The cheering continued for a while, but when the King rose in place of Caesar-sama and lightly raised his hand, the roar gradually subsided.
"I can see that everyone is beyond eager. With more participants than any previous tournament, there will be that many more thrilling matches to enjoy. I, too, look forward to what lies ahead. And to you, participants! Unleash the full extent of the strength you have cultivated until now! Seize the glory with your own hands!"
As the King finished speaking, another massive wave of cheers erupted.
After that, a brief set of explanations was given, and the participants were dismissed for the time being.
It was currently around ten in the morning, and the Preliminary rounds for the Individual Battle were scheduled to begin around eleven. Everyone not participating in the Individual Battle either left the Arena or made their way up to the Audience Seats.
Including myself, there were apparently over six-hundred-fifty participants in the Individual Battle — nearly two hundred more than last year.
Since not all of those participants could fit inside the Waiting Room at once, it was customary for all the Preliminary contestants to be gathered outside the Arena, grouped by their assigned Preliminary bracket, and made to wait there to keep things fair.
A maximum of thirty-two people could advance to the Main Tournament, and among them, the four participants who had made it to the semifinals in the previous tournament were granted Seed Rights — exemption from the Preliminary.
However, since one of the previous prize-winners had withdrawn due to injury, up to twenty-nine contestants could now advance from the Preliminary to the Main Tournament.
The catch was that only a maximum of two people per bracket had previously been allowed to advance past the Preliminary. To avoid the headache of adjusting the numbers under that rule, it had been decided that for this tournament, a special rule would apply: each Preliminary bracket would be allowed to send up to three contestants to the Main Tournament.
In the past, when someone withdrew or when not enough people from a bracket made it through to cause a shortfall, they had adjusted by creating byes in the Main Tournament.
And as it happened — whether this made me lucky or unlucky — I had been placed in a bracket that allowed three people to advance to the Main Tournament.
Among my acquaintances, Jin and Garat were also competing in the Individual Battle this tournament, but none of the three of us ended up in the same bracket. The Bandit King wasn't grouped with us either; he was set to appear in the bracket just before mine.
There were fourteen brackets in total for the Preliminary. The rounds were held in two brackets at a time in separate areas of the venue, and mine was the last to be called. For reference, Jin was in the very first bracket, and Garat was assigned to a bracket running simultaneously with mine.
The number of people assigned to each bracket was forty-five, except for mine, which had sixty-five.
Staff members were stationed near each bracket at all times, ready to answer questions and review the rules with the contestants.
Now, the rules of the Preliminary went something like this…
One — Any participant who fails to arrive at the designated location by the start of the match shall be disqualified.
Two — Deliberately attacking anyone who is not a participant in the same bracket shall result in disqualification.
Three — Falling outside the ring shall result in disqualification.
Four — Being judged unable to continue the match by the referee shall result in disqualification.
Five — Deliberately attacking a disqualified participant shall result in disqualification.
Six — Dying
results in
disqualification.
Seven — Defying the referee's instructions or orders shall result in disqualification.
Eight — Use of items other than weapons and armor is prohibited. However, items such as bags may be used.
Those were the basic rules, though I was told exceptions could be made only if a valid reason was recognized for being unable to follow them.
There seemed to be other minor rules as well, but for the time being, keeping these in mind was probably enough.
"Oh! There you are. Hey, Tenma!"
While I was resting at my bracket's gathering spot, Garat called out to me from a nearby bracket.
"It's been a while, Tenma!"
Garat shouted my name so loudly that everyone in my bracket turned to look at me… Though I say "looked at me," they all had the same expression — like they'd spotted one kid who'd entered the tournament purely for the commemorative experience… Since they weren't going to bother me directly, I decided to ignore them.
Garat seemed to notice those looks too, and shot a sympathetic glance — at the people around me.
"Well, you know how it is… It's the unspoken rule for anyone seeing Tenma for the first time. They mock you right up until they learn the hard way… Though the ones who actually end up learning the hard way are either genuine idiots or people ranked below second-rate."
Garat murmured in a voice just low enough for only me to hear… My bracket didn't seem to contain anyone who was truly skilled in the real sense of the word, so there was nothing unusual about that. Since there was no helping it, I figured I might as well try to make things play out the way Garat wanted.
"How about your side, Garat?"
"Hm? Well, there's a few who look tough here and there... The real issue is that last year's runner-up is in the bracket, so how he moves is going to be the key."
Even though they said "last year's runner-up," apparently this person had lost in the first round of the main tournament at the previous event, so the gap in ability between them and Garat wasn't that wide.
"Still, they've got the results to their name... A few people will probably rush them right at the start. I'm thinking that'll spark the initial free-for-all."
Garat's strategy was to get through the opening melee without taking too much damage, then play it by ear from there — a plan that was crude even by the standards of being called a plan, but in a sense, it was the correct way to fight in a battle royal.
While we were talking about all this, an attendant came to let us know that the first main tournament participants had been decided.
"Oh! Looks like Jin made it through safely!"
The attendant said Jin had qualified for the main tournament, and hearing that, Garat looked pretty pleased.
"Jin's bracket didn't have many mages, huh. If there were any, they probably got taken out in that opening scramble."
"Yeah, if they're run-of-the-mill mages, they'd go down before they could finish chanting their spells. But that's only if they're
run-of-the-mill
."
As he said that, Garat glanced sideways at me.
Even as we talked, the attendant was reading off the names of the main tournament qualifiers.
Judging from the reactions around us, apparently all four qualifiers including Jin had also made it to the main tournament at the previous event — a smooth, expected advancement in every case.
"Can't afford to lose now either! Let's both do our best!"
Still a bit fired up, Garat left me with those words and headed back to his own bracket.
People in the later brackets were apparently free to do as they pleased until just before their group was called to enter, so I wandered around nearby stalls and watched some fights to kill time. By the time the sun had dipped considerably, my bracket was finally called.
"Participants in the final bracket, please gather in the corridor beside the venue!"
I was called to the corridor by the attendant, lined up with the others there, had my name confirmed, and was then escorted into the venue. Not a single person had arrived late.
"Then please wait here."
I was led to what looked like a waiting room overlooking the Fighting Stage, and the match for the previous bracket had just begun.
One group started cautiously, sizing each other up in relative quiet, but the other group descended into a chaotic free-for-all from the very start, with several participants getting sent flying through the air as if they weighed nothing... The one sending them flying was the Bandit King.
The Bandit King was demolishing his opponents with his enormous axe, smashing it down on them one after another, displaying an overwhelming level of strength.
As a result, a natural empty space had formed around him, and nobody dared challenge the Bandit King to a fight.
Every time the Bandit King took a single step forward, the surrounding participants retreated two or three steps, until a kind of stalemate set in, and eventually the audience seats erupted in boos.
Growing fed up with participants who showed no intention of approaching, the Bandit King closed in on his front opponent with speed that defied his massive build, landed a single axe strike, and sent several people flying off the stage all at once.
That made it clear to everyone—even playing it defensively, you'd eventually get cornered and taken out—and a wave of that realization swept through the remaining participants. Without any signal being given, every last one of them charged the Bandit King simultaneously.
They seemed to be trying to overwhelm him with sheer numbers, but a panicked mob that couldn't even coordinate properly was no match for the Bandit King in the end.
With each swing of the Bandit King's axe, the crowd shrank by a few more, until finally—
Everyone—
had been blown off the stage.
The scene was nothing short of a battlefield strewn with the fallen, yet the Bandit King—standing alone on the Fighting Stage—exuded an aura that could only be called regal, captivating the audience.
"That's enough!"
Even the referee had been overwhelmed by the Bandit King's force, delaying the end signal by a beat.
Hearing the referee's signal, the Bandit King leisurely stepped down from the Fighting Stage by himself and withdrew into a waiting room inside the Arena.
Shortly after, the referee announced that in this match, only the Bandit King had been granted qualification for the Main Tournament, and that the bracket would proceed with fewer participants than its full capacity.
Thunderous applause and cheers rained down from the audience seats toward the Bandit King, but the other group—which had been fighting simultaneously—was still at it, and their match paled in comparison to the Bandit King's. The atmosphere from the audience seats shifted to one of "just wrap it up already," making things extremely uncomfortable for the participants in that bracket.
In the end, the one who won through that group was a first-time tournament participant—young man who had never appeared in the Main Tournament before.
Once that previous bracket was finally settled, my bracket was called to the Fighting Stage at last.
As I climbed onto the Fighting Stage, I glanced toward the seats where the King and the others were. The royal family was all assembled there, and sitting in a wheelchair next to the Finance Minister was none other than Mizari.
Shifting my gaze to the noble section, I was surprised to find Grandpa and the others there as well.
Not only were Grandpa, Jeanne, and Aura present, but Primera and the three girls were there too... She must have pulled some strings through her connections as the "Duchy of Sanga."
I didn't have any more time to observe the audience seats. Participants were being randomly positioned across the Fighting Stage...
"Preliminary Final Group — match start!"
The referee's voice rang out.
My first opponent was a large man in full-body armor who had been standing right behind me.
He apparently decided I was the easiest target to take down, because he charged straight in without any strategy whatsoever.
"Hyah! Huh..."
Against a man who was just barreling toward me, I swept his lead foot sideways with a low kick before it could even touch the ground.
As a result, the man toppled over easily, thoroughly confused.
Before the man could recover, I clamped both his legs under my arm and began swinging him around with all my strength.
"Blrgah! Gwah! Oeugh..."
While executing a Giant Swing on the man, I gradually worked my way toward the central area, where a full-blown melee was breaking out. Occasionally, participants got caught in the swing and sent flying, but the armor of the man who had become my weapon turned out to be remarkably well-crafted. There were some minor dents, but no major deformations or broken sections to speak of — he was proving to be an excellent weapon.
Naturally, swinging a man around like that drew the attention of the participants in the center, so I made a bold decision...
To throw my weapon
away — straight toward the center.
The man in full-body armor, released from my grip, went flying like a cannonball and sent the slow-to-flee participants in the center scattering like bowling pins.
Seizing the opening, I lunged into the center myself. The area had cleared out with a gap because everyone had fled from the armored man, and when I leaped into that space, the surrounding participants stared at me in stunned disbelief. Then they suddenly glared and all rushed at me at once... but—
"Freeze!"
When I froze the surface of the Fighting Stage like a skating rink, the participants who had been about to lunge at me slipped and fell flat on their backsides.
"Downburst!"
Next, centered on me,
a downward airflow
was generated. Of course, if I just created it as-is, I'd take damage too, so I specifically adjusted the Magic Power around myself to ensure no harm would come my way.
The combined effect of the Downburst and the frozen Fighting Stage gradually pushed the participants' bodies toward the outer edge.
The participants desperately tried to hold their ground, but on the ice they couldn't get any real footing, and every last one of them—
slid off the Fighting Stage.
The audience and the judges sat dumbfounded at the outcome. But the ones who probably understood least what had happened—or rather, didn't want to understand—were the participants themselves. After all, even though every single one of them had fallen off the Fighting Stage and retired, most of them weren't seriously injured at all and were still energetic enough to fight again right now.
Meanwhile, I was still standing alone on the Fighting Stage. Since the judges still hadn't given the signal to end the match, I couldn't simply walk off on my own.
I'd had enough of waiting for a signal, so I turned my gaze not toward the judges, but toward the King and the others.
Noticing my gaze, the King slowly rose to his feet...
"Judges! The match is over!"
he declared.
Snapped back to reality by the King's words, the head judge hurriedly gave the signal to end the match.
Hearing that, I moved to step off the Fighting Stage when three of the participants started lodging complaints with the judges.
"This is a joke! I can still fight!"
Among those protesting, the most pompous-looking man—equipped with ornate armor and a greatsword—started shouting.
"How can you accept that result?!"
"There's no way that brat could've used that kind of magic without cheating somehow! This match is invalid!"
Two more men, similarly decked out in elaborate armor, shouted from beside the first man.
But I ignored them and stepped down from the Fighting Stage. Even after I descended, I could hear the men's insults from behind, but I paid them no mind and walked straight toward the Waiting Room.
"Hey! That brat's getting away! Someone grab him!"
The man who had been the first to complain shouted at the surrounding participants, but the other participants merely sent cold glances his way and didn't move a muscle. If anything...
"Guards! Arrest those three! They've desecrated the Victory Prayer Imperial Martial Arts Festival!"
The Minister of Military Affairs—Lyle von Blue Mail Christin—who had at some point descended from the royal box, had brought guards with him, and the three participants were immediately restrained.
The three had put up considerable resistance against the guards, and in the process of being subdued, the guards had struck them; by the time they were bound, all three had lost consciousness.
"Among those who lost their matches just now, there are undoubtedly some who—perhaps not to the same extreme as those three—nevertheless feel the result was unfair. However, that too reflects your own inadequacy; that opponent was simply one step above you. Take this as a lesson, and when the next opportunity comes, hold nothing back and give it your all."
As he was leaving, Lyle addressed the participants of the earlier match. The participants, too,
seemed to understand that in matches like this,
this was the kind of end that awaited troublemakers—they knelt on the spot and bowed their heads.
The audience applauded Lyle's swift action, and almost as an afterthought, also applauded the defeated participants as they filed out of the Arena... However, the other ongoing match was still continuing.
While the audience had been focused on my actions, the three fools' commotion, and Lyle's handling of the situation, the other match had seen its participants reduced to less than a third, and it felt like a conclusion was just moments away.
In the end, the ones who advanced from that group were Garat and a veteran adventurer...
"Phew~... Tenma's
cover fire
really saved us!"
Garat, who entered the Waiting Room well after I did, opened his mouth and immediately blurted out something like that.
Apparently, in Garat's group there had been a long stretch of everyone just sizing each other up, but when several participants saw the magic I launched and grew startled and confused, that confusion spread to the other participants, and before anyone knew it, the whole thing had devolved into a chaotic free-for-all. Moreover, because everyone was in a state of confusion, most of the participants couldn't even perform at half their real ability and ended up being defeated.
When I asked how that ended up supporting me…
"Huh? I mean, nothing Tenma does could ever be considered weird, right? Just imagine suddenly seeing two massive spells go off in a row on the opposite side — most people would be caught off guard and thrown into chaos. I happened to know more about where those were coming from than anyone else in there. That's how I was able to perform without losing my composure."
Garat had originally been one of the top fighters in his group, so if the others weren't performing at their best, his victory was only natural… but somehow, it still didn't sit right with me.
Just then, an official came over to us and began explaining what would happen next.
In short: congratulations on qualifying for the Main Tournament, the bracket draw will be held on the morning of the event, and please don't be late.
Once the official finished speaking, Garat, the third qualifier, and I tried to leave the Waiting Room right away…
"Oh! Tenma, could you please stay behind for just a moment?"
They singled me out and stopped me.
Garat glanced at me and said he was heading back since Jin and the others were waiting, then left. The other qualifier simply walked off without a word.
"Is something the matter? If it's about the match, I haven't cheated or anything."
The official shook their head vigorously at my question, denying it outright.
"Not at all! We don't suspect anything of the sort! However, several nobles who watched your match have requested to speak with you, Tenma… We received word from above to make arrangements for that, so if you could wait here just a little longer…"
That was the gist of it. I told them I could easily slip away from a few nobles, but the official looked like they were about to cry, saying that would be a problem, so I agreed to wait in the Waiting Room for a bit.
I waited for about ten minutes or so. That countermeasure made its way to the Waiting Room I was in
and arrived
.
"So you two are the countermeasure… I'll leave it in your hands right away."
I headed toward the exit together with those two.
Around that same time, near the exit…
"That brat called Tenma is taking awfully long…"
"My Lord, not much time has passed since the match ended. He most likely used a powerful spell and is taking a short rest."
"That brat is eyeing Tenma too, it seems… For a baron, he's got the nerve to try getting to her before I do."
"Calm yourself, my Lord. Even if he speaks to her first, your rank is superior to his. Simply maintain a composed demeanor and make your approach — Tenma will be far more receptive to an invitation from a viscount like yourself than from a mere baron. No matter how talented she may be, she's still a young woman of little experience. She'd be delighted to follow someone of your standing."
This was the chatter of minor nobles conversing with their attendants. The nobles present must have only recently arrived in the Royal Capital. Otherwise, they would have heard rumors about Tenma from their own faction's noble acquaintances by now.
It was before these very nobles that Tenma appeared from the exit.
From where the nobles stood, it was difficult to see the person beside Tenma. To make matters worse, in their eagerness to beat the other nobles to the punch, they had eyes only for Tenma.
The nobles scrambled toward Tenma in a race — and then…
"How dare you, you insolent wretches—!"
They were sharply rebuked by the person at Tenma's side.