A one-day tournament of fifteen teams meant fourteen matches in a day. For that purpose, the Academy’s expansive yard had been sectioned off so we could hold three matches at once.
A library on the third floor of one building had also been set up as a waiting room for the participants. The bookshelves, which didn’t have the Torrenoxion but did contain spellbooks from every age and nation, had been covered by relay screens of the matches so we could watch all three.
“Sasha sure looks calm. She’s readin’ a book at a time like this.”
“That’s just how royalty should be. We should take a page from her.”
Most teams were gathered in front of each screen, but when I happened to turn around, I found Sasha there sitting down to elegantly read a book.
It seemed like she must’ve brought it in herself. She could hold it in one hand, and it looked like it could’ve come from any old bookshelf, unlike the spellbooks around here. A black leather cover hid the front of the book.
“But the size of that… You don’t suppose it could be a manga?”
“No way. Has to be some super-formal specialized tome or somethin’.”
But Sasha liked manga. I was sure she was reading a shoujo one to kill time.
I brushed Cyril off just when he’d been about to realize it, but before I turned back around, my eyes suddenly met Sasha’s. She gave me a small smile and brought a finger up to her lips, giving me a “Shh.” She looked ridiculously beautiful while doing it.
I knew she was telling me to keep quiet about her manga hobby, but there was something a little suggestive about it, too.
The first matches had just started on the relay screens.
“So, Feil, which match do you think we should focus on?” Cyril asked beside me. He was wearing a military uniform with a stand-up collar under his robes. He had a sheathed longsword by his hip that made him look less like a smart summoner and more like a charming commanding officer. Tall and handsome, he was going to show up on screen all over Raddermark. Whether he wanted it or not, he was definitely going to get a ton more fangirls.
“Every match besides Bernhart’s—is what I’d like to say, but…,” I said, which drew a brief sigh from Cyril.
“Right. I thought so…”
“Guy’s face didn’t have an honest look to it. I reckon he’s got somethin’ planned.”
Myfila, who’d been caught by Cyril and was getting her hair combed out, looked up at me with a cryptic look. “The unskilled rich boy might do something?”
“He might have somethin’ up his sleeve like we do. Well, even if he hasn’t got talent, he can do most things by puttin’ his money where his mouth is.”
“You mean an artifact? An old powerful one?”
“Probably,” I said.
“The Six Executioners of Metal we talked about with the princess are also technically artifacts,” Myfila said.
“Ya nitwit. Why would a divine weapon show up in a tournament like this?” I said.
I scoffed and then turned my eyes to the screen where Bernhart’s team was displayed.
The match had just begun, but it was clearly progressing in one direction.