The multicourse meal would finally be serving its main dish.
It was the early morning, skies clear. King Hyurence had arrived at the tournament island the previous night, and was now confirming documents in the VIP area. Everyone around him was frantic, staff dashing around, production crew doing last checks of their cameras, servants preparing the food and drink.
Very soon, foreign dignitaries would be arriving on the island to observe the matches with the king. Right now, though, Hyurence was still alone doing his last checks. He’d memorized his opening ceremony speech, the order of the matches, and the schedule. He’d prepared emergency plans in case anything irregular happened. The preparations for magivision were also going smoothly. The tournament would be broadcast live all across Altoire—and that meant there would be no redos.
He felt just like the competitors. Hyurence wasn’t entering the tournament, but he was fighting his own fight as the organizer of the whole event. Any failures of the tournament, no matter the reason, would fall on him. That was what it meant to be in his position.
“Your Majesty.” His bodyguard leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “The representatives of the Wingroad teams have arrived.”
“Let them through.”
Hyurence set down the documents and turned to face the entrance. His bodyguard let in a young man with reddish hair and a small boy with blond hair. It was Emue Elan, the representative of the professional team from Vanderouge, and Neal Liston, the representative of the student team from Altoire.
Hyurence smiled and welcomed the two in. “Be at ease. This is not an official setting.”
This was diplomacy. Political responses were required of him, so he could not afford to be his private self. “As you can see, we are quite busy at the moment, making it impossible to leave to give our greetings. We must apologize for calling you out at such a busy time right before your performances, Emue, Neal.”
It was clear that the two guests were incredibly nervous. Though it was especially noticeable in Altoire, many countries had been lowering the barriers between the ruling class and those beneath, but that didn’t mean meeting a king was any less nerve-racking. For the Liston family in particular, the king of Altoire was like their master. Hyurence might have even viewed it as a problem had they not been nervous. No matter how progressive their society was becoming, viewing one’s king as some old man living in the neighborhood would be troubling...very troubling indeed.
“Having seen the Wingroad formation flights of Vanderouge once before, we wished to simply give words of encouragement. Several pilots must perform the same movements without even the slightest deviation—one can only imagine how much skill such maneuvering asks of you. It would no doubt have taken much practice and effort to achieve what you already have. At the same time, we understand that this is difficult. No matter how much you practice, no matter how hard you try, there will undoubtedly be times of failure. We understand if mistakes are made in the performance.”
The king turned to look directly at the younger of the two. “Neal, this must be a big responsibility for you, especially, to be taking on while still in elementary school. This event is far too large and you are still far too young to have to shoulder this. But know that just standing here alone today in front of us is worthy of praise. It is significant that you have made it this far to begin with. So do not fear failure. We will support you if things go wrong, so please fly without any worries. Just be cautious of any potential accidents. We do not wish to imagine an outcome where we lose such precious and talented citizens of our country. Show the Kingdom of Altoire your professional skill.”
With those arrogantly encouraging words, the king sent the two on their way. Everyone around them had heard what he had said. They had been compassionate words—quite unlike his usual cold and logical demeanor.
“Is it really acceptable for them to fail?” his bodyguard asked.
“No,” the king said immediately.
Then what was the point of those words earlier? she couldn’t help but wonder.
“Putting pressure on them would’ve done no good. That’s the only reason I spoke to them like that. Of course we can’t fail here. To begin with, wouldn’t a failure for a Wingroad team mean they had fallen from the sky? They’d be dead.”
That was true.
“It would affect me too. If they fail on this huge stage, I fear to think what the public will say. The worst part is that we have another country involved—we can’t cover that up. I will not die from it, but my career as a politician certainly would.” He picked up the documents yet again.
He would die as a politician? Even though he was the one who said those words, the king didn’t truly believe them. His fists may not be strong, but he had no intention of losing with the pen. He had full confidence he could follow up on and recover from any failure that could occur.
At least, assuming he would be allowed to fight with the pen to begin with.
People arrived one after another. The previously empty seats were filling up, bringing life to the quiet arena. The VIP section now sat more than just Hyurence.
From Vanderouge came the emperor, the prince—a friend of Hyurence’s son, Hiero—and the princess. Joining them were the commanders-in-chief of their land and air forces.
Wu Haitong were passionate about martial arts events such as this tournament, but unfortunately, the emperor was unable to attend, so the emperor’s children, their Minister of War, their Minister of Justice, a world-famous deputy instructor of the Heavenstriker style, and various instructors of the Nine Gates had all attended in his stead.
From the Holy Kingdom of Asternia came the archbishop, the third Saint, and two Holy Knights. Hyurence hadn’t thought they would be interested in anything related to martial arts, but he’d invited them anyway. Since it was an invitation from the king himself, they hadn’t wished to be rude, and so sent along those of decent standing so as not to cause offense.
Dignitaries from the land of the beastkin had also come without invitation, but they’d said that they didn’t care about formalities, asking to be treated like regular guests instead. As such, they were in the audience below, mixed in among the citizens. Their country was unique, so Hyurence wasn’t about to argue. It wasn’t as if he’d invited them in the first place.
There were also those from Altoire itself, such as the crown prince of Altoire and his wife... Hyurence’s son, Ares, and his wife, Murich. But he didn’t need to concern himself with them. They were family, after all. The Lords of the Liston and Silver families were in a different VIP seating area, but he knew he didn’t need to worry about them either.
Hyurence went around greeting the guests, taking it as an opportunity to both confirm who was in attendance, and to exchange information under the guise of idle chatter. There was no rest for politicians and officials when out in public. Without any signal, the match here had already begun.
The seats of the arena were eventually completely filled. The sight of the packed audience was quite spectacular.
A staff member ran up and whispered something to Hyurence’s attendant who then whispered it to him.
It was time.
“Shall we begin, then?” Hyurence gestured to the guests with a flourish, before standing at the podium attached to the seating area.
At the sight of their king, the audience went wild. Hyurence raised his hand, and eventually, all went quiet.
The king’s voice boomed through the arena thanks to the magic tool amplifying his voice.
“I am Hyurence, the fourteenth king of Altoire.”
I was looking up at the king from near the ring. We stood near the aisle that the competitors would walk down so that we weren’t too visible. Since we would be recording today too, this was the general area we’d be remaining in.