That preliminary battle had ended with Zeon practically inflicting the finishing blow on himself. He didn’t think that his opponent had done nothing—that moment of defense was his opponent’s real strength. Zeon had been outclassed by a defense of perfect muscles. However, to onlookers, it had looked self-inflicted. And even if his opponent had the perfect defense, there was no way to deny that Zeon had lost, just like that. There was no way his opponent had gotten out all of his energy in that fight either.
“That is all I desire from the main tournament rounds.”
Zeon had originally only participated in the tournament because of his connections to the adventurer’s guild. He’d had absolutely no desire to join and he’d even thought he wouldn’t care if he was eliminated in the prelims. He didn’t care how strong the fighters were; Zeon’s real opponents were monsters. He wasn’t trained in fighting against people.
And yet, the reason he had signed up for the losers’ matches was because he wanted to fight that man again. It wasn’t to make up for his defeat or to show off his skills. It most definitely wasn’t for the guildmaster who had been grumbling away incoherently in disbelief that he had been knocked out of the tournament so early.
It was to apologize for his shameful conduct as an opponent and, quite simply, as a loser’s revenge. These were the two things pushing him forward.
“I will make it to the next round.”
With that, Zeon walked off.
What he didn’t mention was that just a small part of his motivation was for those who were cheering him on. With such a festive air surrounding this tournament, that sort of goal fit him just fine too.
“Zeon’s really strong, huh?”
“He is.”
When Reliared dropped by my room to walk to class the next morning, we sat for a little while to catch a bit of yesterday’s losers’ matches. Given our jobs, it was important for us to stay in the know. We didn’t need to know everything, but making sure to watch even a little bit made all the difference.
“He looks like he’ll make it back to the next round.”
“Do you think?” I wasn’t sure if Zeon was strong or his opponent was too weak. At the very least, their difference in strength was so stark that it was easily discernible even to an amateur’s eye.
The losers’ rounds started in the evening and went into the night. Then the recording was broadcast the next day. They must have gone at light speed to get it edited in time if we were able to catch a broadcast before school. The work was tough whether you were on the ground or not.
“Interesting...”
After the match, the recording switched to show the interview between Kikirira and Sonicspeed Zeon. Zeon was a wolf beastkin known for his authentic skill—I’d heard he was well-known among those who were familiar with the adventuring scene. I had thought that he was at least more notable than the regular rabble back when I’d met him before the preliminaries. I’d even considered that he may be able to defeat one of my students, depending on who he was matched up against. I could have easily beat him while doing my homework, but I still had my eye on him.
That said, I wasn’t all that surprised that he had lost in the prelims either. We’d interacted a little when I had been going around with Rikelvita getting sketches done, but at that time, I had felt absolutely no passion from him. I realized then that he hadn’t particularly wanted to participate in the tournament.
If he’d won, anyway, then I could have accepted that too; not having your heart in it didn’t mean you weren’t strong—I would fall under that umbrella. But he definitely wasn’t strong enough to win by a huge margin, and there were plenty of other skilled fighters who could easily compete with him. If he was paired up with someone of equal strength, then the result would be decided before the fight even began.
Someone not obsessed with winning could not possibly win. Losing was the natural outcome.
That was the impression I’d had at the time, but...
“I will make it to the next round.”
The look on Zeon’s face as he declared those words was different. The eyes of the beastkin as he announced his firm resolve through the MagiPad were not the eyes of an apathetic warrior, but of a true martial artist. If he could maintain that attitude, then he may very well make it to the next round.
“I would very much like to see popular strong fighters make it to the main matches,” I said.
Zeon’s preliminary defeat had been quite the talk of the town when it happened. Conversely, Gandolph’s popularity had shot through the roof after being the victor. Well, perhaps more his notoriety than his popularity. People were still theorizing about what had happened in that match. Zeon had been the one to attack and yet he had been the one to lose—it was natural for the average viewer to think it made no sense.
That said, I had personally predicted the outcome. Gandolph was tough; he’d learned to use his chi defensively in a way that hardened his muscles. Up against that, a half-hearted attack would do nothing. Rather, you could end up injuring yourself instead. It was like hitting a rock, after all.
Zeon had kicked a rock straight on without even holding back. That was why his leg had broken.
“Oh no, I didn’t notice the time. We better go or we’ll be late. I really don’t want to, though...”
“Neither do I.” I would much rather laze around and watch the rest of the matches. I was exhausted from the consecutive days of recording. I wanted to just zone out while spectating. Sure, the competitors were so weak that I could be at the peak of drowsiness and still mow them all down, but fights between people of similar skill levels were still fun to watch. Those were the kinds of matchups where martial artists truly shined. Oh, and it was a given that there would be blood too.
Ughhh, I wanna relax. I wanna doze off while watching the matches.
Unfortunately, we couldn’t do that, so we reluctantly stood up. It was time for school. It was time for another day of fighting off the urge to sleep while we studied.
“Nia, Relia.”
When we turned to look at the classroom doorway, Josecotte Coiz was standing there. Oh my, another senior student had come calling.
“Look! It’s Josecotte!”
“Oh, um, yes...”
Our classmates excitedly swarmed her. I was getting a real sense of déjà vu.
Just like Kikirira, Josecotte had also been appearing on magivision a lot recently, so both girls were becoming quite well-known throughout the school. Josecotte’s most notable appearance so far was probably Leeno’s tournament participation announcement a year ago. At the time when everyone had been wondering who Leeno was, Josecotte had been the one to interview her. Her name and face had spread far and wide after that. Josecotte’s increasing popularity was also beginning to put the junior production crew itself on the map.
“Is something wrong?”
Josecotte looked unsure of how to handle the children as we walked over, turning to us while also trying to calm them down. “Uh, our director said he’d like to have a short meeting about the recording...”
She means Wagnes, right?
“At lunch? We don’t have time after school.”
Reliared was right—our time after school was filled with recordings, so we had no time to fit in a meeting. The junior crew were likely in the same boat.