The party started off friendly, but the more it continued, the quieter everything became. Even the relaxing music from the band began feeling hollow amid the festering negativity. It almost felt like you could see the contamination born from those human emotions.
Glaring matches started up all over, and some even silently grabbed others by their collars. For some reason, the staff did nothing to intervene, leaving it to the competitors to keep their fellow fighters under control. At the same time, some weren’t happy about that, and so they started glaring at even more people. There were those who began grumbling and voicing their complaints.
It was a terrifyingly exciting environment. The only reason a huge brawl didn’t break out was because the rules were hanging over their heads. They knew that if they fought outside of the ring, they would be immediately disqualified. There were those who had been disqualified from the prelims for that exact reason, so they knew the staff meant it. The contestants didn’t want to lose their space right after fighting all this way—and at a silly party to boot. Those feelings alone were enough to stop them from raising their fists.
The Liston crew walked all around that tense party floor. I would walk between those who clearly had beef, smile on my face, and egg them on with a, “I wonder which of you is stronger?” Or I would aggravate them further with a, “There’s quite the difference in build here. I think this fighter has the advantage.” I was sauntering about, knowingly making remarks that made it seem like I was completely incapable of reading the room.
None of them responded directly to me, but they definitely reacted. I could see their blood vessels pumping angrily, and they looked two steps away from threatening me. It wouldn’t have surprised me if they’d suddenly turned and said, “I’m gonna murder you, brat!” or “Shut your damn mouth!” That’s exactly what I wanted! You should’ve tried to take a swing at me. I’d have dodged, you know? You wouldn’t have been disqualified.
At the end of the day, though, they were all professionals. I gave them little pokes and there really seemed to be a few who were struggling to contain their anger, but they were all professionals in violent fields. They knew the right place, the right time, and the right opponent to fight. I think that was why no one came out swinging. Of course, the biggest factor was likely not wanting to get disqualified for a little squabble.
“But it made everything exciting, didn’t it?” I defended myself.
“Yeah, but...I don’t think what you did was right. But it’s true that I can’t look away, no matter how much I want to...”
The jeers, the warnings, the heckling, all of it gradually stood out more and more. My actions today had created rivalries between the competitors and exacerbated existing ones, especially from those who had been in the losers’ bracket. Their popularity had been rising dramatically since their return. Hildetaura’s guess was that it was because holding the matches in the capital had meant more people could watch them in person, and those people then became big fans.
Fighters who had once lost had fought their way back to the main tournament. They were as persistent as cockroaches—the audience was captivated by their crude crawl back to the top. There were those who had fought and bled in front of them. If people had been able to see that brilliance in person, then it seemed only natural that they would end up wanting to cheer for them.
On one side we had the winners, on the other, we had the losers. The MagiPad displayed them glaring and taking potshots at each other, fanning the flames of enthusiasm for the remainder of the tournament to even greater heights.
Well, long story short, the party had been very exciting. It was a miracle it hadn’t ended with someone finally just blowing a gasket.
Still, I shouldn’t have expected anything less. There were those who had been entirely focused on eating and drinking from the buffet, those who had been snickering away at what was going on from a distance, those who had been staying out of the commotion and remaining on high alert, those who had been ignoring anyone who even tried to glare at them, those who had been chatting the whole time with their allies, those who had taken this opportunity to stick to the cameras and show off their muscles... Everyone who had been able to spend their time at that party at their own pace had to be skilled fighters.
“It’s great how bloodthirsty everyone is.” Even through the MagiPad, it was possible to feel how dangerous the atmosphere had been. It was a perfect example of how this was the natural outcome of a gathering of martial artists. They would’ve ended up this way eventually, whether I’d poked the hornet’s nest or not.
Martial artists generally felt that they were the strongest and wanted to prove their strength. When people with that sort of mindset gathered in one place, they would naturally begin comparing.
“Nia, you, uh...” Reliared looked freaked out, but quite frankly, I didn’t care. This was how things were supposed to be. If people started idolizing martial artists, it was only a matter of time until their expectations were betrayed. The nature of a martial artist was much closer to a child who liked getting into fights. We were people who simply cared about who was strong and who was stronger than us. That was all.
“Oh, look here.” Just as the bloodthirst reached a height that the partygoers began spitting insults, Reliared seemed to notice something and pointed at the MagiPad.
“Huh? What was that?” Something appeared to have happened directly behind where I’d been gleefully toying with the fighters’ pride and feelings of inferiority. Now that I was paying attention, something appeared for a quick second in the camera and then moved out of frame... Was that Anzel? He was carrying someone, wasn’t he?
“Rikel?” Relia muttered.
What? Was he carrying Rikelvita?
“You mean the person Anzel was carrying? She did look like she had red hair...”
He really was only on-screen for a quick second. If I’d been paying attention from the start, I might’ve been able to catch who it was.
“Huh?! What should I do?! Nia, what should I do?! Spring might have finally come for Rikel! This might be the start of a love story!”
Reliared looked so happy. I couldn’t tell if it was because it was her sister or because she was of the age to start caring about such things.
I do think it’s more likely that Rikelvita collapsed and he was carrying her off to the infirmary...
Rikelvita? Fall in love? It was really hard to imagine.
“Night, Nia.”
With it nearing bedtime, Reliared headed off back to her room. All that remained was me and the MagiPad.
I let out a sigh. The bloodthirsty party had ended and it was now showing the knight captain giving his explanation of the upcoming schedule.
At least we should be able to have a little rest now. Tournament-related recordings would now temporarily be on hold, just as planned. It wasn’t that I would have no recordings at all, but my work schedule would be much calmer until the tournament reconvened. For the next week, rebroadcasts of the matches and all the interviews we’d done with the competitors would be broadcast in order to sell the fighters.
The long martial arts tournament was finally nearing its end. Altoire had already been more alive with excitement than I’d ever seen it, but I was sure the flames of passion would only get hotter with each passing day. This heat, this passion, would be directed at the betting. The expectations for the long-awaited main matches, the desire to cheer for one’s favorite, the heightened emotions, all of it would lead to the audience making bets. There would also be those who would just do it as a way to commemorate the tournament.
The current perception was that Leeno would be the definite winner of the bare-handed division, but in that case, the winnings pool likely wouldn’t be that large. No matter what the outcome, the bookmakers—in this case, the government—would profit.
It was the weapons division that the gamblers would really get excited about. Even I struggled to state an absolute clear winner and that made me look forward to it more.
“I guess I should sleep.” Lynokis wasn’t here, but I had promised to live as regular a life as possible while she was away, so why not do that? Besides, I was tired, anyway.
I turned off the MagiPad and the lights and snuggled into bed.
Just a little bit more. All that was left was the main matches, and the tournament I’d spent over a year working toward would be over. My massively packed schedule would also finally calm down. I could finally go a day without feeling like I wanted to murder Bendelio. My only real concern left was Neal’s Wingroad performance.
No, actually, he’ll be fine. Neal always stepped up when he needed to. He was such a prodigy he even managed to get a grasp of chi at his age—he’d see it through to the end without complaint.
Just one last push and it’ll all be over.
It was quiet. For the past few days, the competitors had been forced to stand in front of the camera and attempt to speak through their nerves, all while feeling uneasy about the upcoming tournament. It had been hard to find any calm.