It was a clear day, and the blue sky stretched as far as the eye could see. The members of the other school’s team had arrived. A crowd had gathered at the school entrance to greet them, and Blade and his friends were right in the middle.
Chestnut Academy had sent five students. They were joined by a few other assistants, servants, and the like, creating a delegation of over ten people, but only five would be participating in the competition. One was a girl, the other four were male.
“Hey, you see her? Cute, huh? That one there.” Kassim nudged Blade.
“Which girl?” he asked.
“What do you mean? They’ve only got one. The one at the front.”
Blade didn’t understand the concept of “cute” very well. It seemed a bit like what Kassim meant when he said “I so wanna do her” from time to time, but when Blade asked whether they were the same thing, Kassim had said, “They’re totally different, dude,” without offering any further explanation.
Hmm. Still a mystery.
“We wish to express to His Majesty Gilgamesh Soulmaker that we are greatly honored to be invited here today. I, Lunaria Steinberg, leader of the team representing Chestnut Academy, hereby promise you a battle that will not disappoint.”
The “cute girl” Kassim had pointed out picked up the hem of her skirt and gave an incredibly graceful curtsy. Ah, yes. That’s a move princesses from a lot of different nations like. In fact, every princess Blade had ever met did that exact same pseudo bow.
Hmm. Makes sense. So, that’s what “cute” is. Blade wasted no time cementing this new knowledge in his brain.
“Yes, I expect great things from you,” replied the king. “I also hear that you and our top student, Earnest, have been rivals for many years now. I look forward to seeing who will enjoy the sweet taste of victory and who will wallow in the agony of defeat. Any wallowers in the house? Ha-ha-ha!”
“Oh, dear. You jest, Your Majesty!”
The “cute girl” Kassim had pointed out flashed a refined smile and put one hand to her mouth. Blade’s “Hero Ears” could just barely pick up her muttering “stupid old man” very quietly.
Hmm. Makes sense. So, that’s what “cute” is. Blade wasted no time cementing this new knowledge in his brain.
“Doesn’t she just make you want to scream?” asked Earnest. She’d come up next to him and spoke just loudly enough to ensure he heard her.
“Hmm? Isn’t she supposed to be cute?”
“What? What’s cute about her? Her personality is awful.”
“Does being cute mean having an awful personality?”
“Huh? What, do you like that sort of thing? You’ve got the worst taste in women.”
Earnest wasted no time berating him. It seemed like they were on totally different pages, and Blade was completely lost.
“Oh, perfect,” said the king. “Hey, Earnest, Lunaria’s here.”
“Yes, I am aware, Your Majesty,” said Earnest, stepping out in front of the crowd.
“Hey, don’t those guys behind her look pretty strong? What do you think?”
Blade was now talking to Sophie, who had taken Earnest’s place.
“The large man right behind her is well-balanced and has no obvious faults to exploit. Une tells me he would be the toughest to beat.”
“Une, huh?”
Sophie currently had the personalities of her five sisters living within her, each named after numbers in some ancient language, from “Une” to “Cinq.” Each had their own separate consciousness, and they all lived together like roommates in her body. It wasn’t going to stay like that forever, though. Eliza was currently beavering away on a solution. Once preparations were complete, they would all be separated and put into their very own bodies via a process called “consciousness downloading.” With help from James, the excellent assistant (or slave, depending on your viewpoint) whom Eliza had recently procured, the research was progressing like never before.
“As Cinq puts it, from left to right, the opposing team members are killable, killable, unkillable, killable, and liable to kill you.”
“We can’t go killing these guys, okay? And I don’t think it’s a good idea to categorize people by whether you can kill them or not. Tell Cinq that for me… Wait, Cinq thinks that one could kill her? Which one? That girl? The cute girl?”
Sophie shot Blade a hard glare.
Hmm? Hmm? Hmm? Why am I being glared at?
“If you’re happy, Blade, then all is well.”
Hmm? Hmm? Hmm? Why are we talking about my happiness all of a sudden?
“Regardless, we now have two of the Four Royal Swords in the same place. This competition’s gonna be a lot of fun. Ha-ha-ha! I can’t wait.”
The king was enjoying himself, at least. The Rosewood Academy students, who knew what a happy king meant for their futures, were feeling quite discouraged.
“Hey, hey. Is he talking about that?”
Blade tugged at the sleeve of the nearest person, which happened to be Leonard. He pulled hard.
“Ah, milady is as dignified and beautiful as ever,” Leonard whispered, lost in his own little world. “I would die for her…”
It took a while to bring him back to reality, but eventually, he explained.
“Mmm, yes, that is Brynhildr, an ice-element magic sword. It’s said to be just as powerful as Asmodeus in the possession of milady. Its reputation has spread far and wide across this continent.”
The sword in question was hanging from the waist of the “cute” girl. Using his Hero Eyes to get a closer look, Blade saw it was enshrouded in an unusually thick aura. Clearly, it was no ordinary weapon.
“She’s not from this country, right? So why’s she carrying one of this kingdom’s royal swords? Did she steal it or something?”
“Blade, don’t you listen to any of our history lectures?”
“Well…I guess I missed that one. Can you explain?”
He always listened intently to their lessons on strategy and tactics, but whenever a class came along that didn’t seem applicable to fighting… Yeah, he mostly slept through those.
“Long ago, there was a single vast country known simply as ‘the kingdom.’ It has since been divided into several different nations. Our kingdom can trace its lineage directly back to the original one, and that makes some of the neighboring countries like our extended family, and we’re all allies. Three of the Four Royal Swords are in the possession of those allied nations.”
“Oh-ho. So that’s how it works?”
Back when he was a Hero, Blade had worked under the generous support of an outfit called the Eight Nations Alliance…but he had no idea about its backstory. He was too busy fighting to notice, really. It was all the fault of that prick on the throne and the way he forced people, or Heroes, to work themselves to the bone.
“Those countries are the backbone of the Eight Nations Alliance…and Lunaria comes from one of them.”
“Ah, what a great event this is. Now I really can’t wait. It’s going to be a blast. I can’t wait to see you all go at it!”
The king was delighted with himself, though his subjects looked rather haggard. Earnest felt the need to address him. Despite her reluctance, it was kind of her job.
“Your Majesty, this is meant to be a friendly match, not a martial arts tournament. The goal is to improve ourselves through competition with those of a similar age, comparing our achievements not just in battle, but in academia, character, and manners. The match you’re referring to is but one part of this event. I hope you understand.”
“Heavens, Earnest. You could very well become just like Sirene in the future!”
“Pardon me, sire? Her post as prime minister, you mean? Oh, no, I hardly have that in me…” Earnest fidgeted. Being told she might have Sirene’s job someday seemed to…excite her, maybe? “If I can serve His Majesty with my combat skill, that would be enough—”
“Yes, no doubt,” said Lunaria, agreeing with Earnest’s modest protestation.
Earnest responded with a powerful glare, strong enough to send most people hurtling through the air. But it only made a single strand of Lunaria’s hair flutter. She accepted all that invisible pressure with a cool expression.