They resembled a swarm of gigantic beetles as they climbed the stairs. Had this been a short while ago, the sight could’ve made me faint from terror, but the new me wasn’t scared in the slightest. I considered attributing this development to the spirit of sumo, but that wasn’t right.
I folded my arms and smiled, because I could handle them. The guards didn’t scare me because I could crush them. Their swords and spears were powerless against my sumo. I had complete confidence in that.
There was something in my clenched fists. When I looked, I realized I was holding salt. It must have been for purifying the ring. I wondered if some skill had caused it to manifest.
Then I heard the sound of drums from somewhere—the kind of drumming that draws local crowds to sumo matches about to begin. Ah, so that’s what’s happening. This castle is hosting a professional sumo tournament!
“Have a taste of this Purification Salt!”
I cast the salt in my hands upon the soldiers trying to climb the stairs.
“Aaagh! My eyes, my eyes!!!”
“Gaaah!!!”
Some covered their eyes while others screamed, and still others began to dissolve. Were there actual demons among the guards of the castle?
As I made my way down the crowded stairs, I threw salt with my left hand and delivered harite with my right. Screams and angry shouts followed me.
I was approaching Jonas’s location. He was looking every which way, his face the very picture of fear as he barked orders at his men to take me down. What a disgrace. Truly, he was an utter disgrace. As someone in a position of power, the least he could have done was stay calm and composed. How could he even call himself a prince?
In an instant, I closed the distance between myself and the misty-eyed prince and thrust my hand at his throat—a move called nodowa—before lifting him up by it.
“Agghh, s-stop, damn it! I-I’m a prince—you can’t do this to me!!!”
“Why did you accuse me of something I didn’t do?”
“B-Because I c-can’t marry Jaromíra with you in the way!”
“That’s it?”
“Th-That’s it! I wouldn’t expect a clingy, gloomy girl like you to simply agree to break off our engagement!”
“Why did you go so far as to arrange my execution?”
Still held up by the throat, Jonas glared down at me spitefully.
“Because I hate you! You’re gloomy and wishy-washy and I don’t want to see you for another second! Just die already, would you?!”
Oh, so that’s how it is. However, his confession didn’t move me in the slightest. I was appalled at his inflexibility: he couldn’t even turn a blind eye to his future wife’s shortcomings for the sake of his kingdom.
As I threw him down into the dance hall as if I was disposing of trash, he tumbled across the floor with a rather coarse scream. By now I was surrounded by immobilized soldiers, as though I had emerged from a bloodbath on the front lines. No one was left to stand in my way.
My sumo senses were suggesting I visit the castle’s underground. What could this be? I crossed the dance hall, opened the door, and stepped into the hallway. Once again, I could feel it—there was, indeed, something down below. It was abundantly clear to me that someone was calling out. I made haste through the maze that was the castle hallways, relying on my newfound senses. Past a timeworn spiral staircase lay the dungeon, chilly and reeking of mold.
My path forwards was obstructed by a fair knight in full armor—a Temple Knight by the name of Ove Sörenson.
“You put me in a difficult spot, Lady Floortje. The dungeon is off-limits to you.”
This masterful swordsman and captain of the order of Temple Knights was another love interest in The Rondo of Light and Darkness. My sumo senses told me my objective lay behind him. And there was something else they said I should do.
“‘Open the banzuke’...?”
As soon as I had uttered the words, a table of rankings appeared before me. Most of it was in bright black ink, but my name was written in red. Hmm... I’m still eighth in jūryō, the second-highest division? The knight in front of me had his name in maegashira, the lowest rank of the highest division, where he was fourth. It appeared I would be able to judge my opponents’ strength in this way, which was quite useful.
The “west” yokozuna—the highest sumo rank—belonged to the captain of the royal guard. But the person holding the slightly more prestigious rank of the “east” yokozuna had a name I did not recognize. It seemed there were formidable opponents in this kingdom whom I was still unfamiliar with. The thought of it made my heart pound with excitement.
“What is that piece of paper?”
“Nothing you should concern yourself with.”
“All right, well—the Saint of Light ordered me to take you down if I see you. I bear no grudge against you, but in God’s name, I shall deliver you to heaven.”
“You’re a worthy opponent, Knight! Fight with honor!”
A ring appeared, complete with tokudawara—the four bales positioned around the outside of the ring, slightly offset from its edge. The ring rose right out of the cobblestones there in the underground passageway which led to the dungeon. What a bizarre phenomenon. It must’ve been another manifestation of my sumo powers.
I sensed a crucial bout coming.
“Wh-What is this? Some kind of field?” uttered Ove, puzzled by the sight in front of him.
After performing the salt-throwing ritual, I stepped into the ring.
“We’ll fight here, in the ring. The only rules are that you may not touch the ground with anything other than the soles of your feet, and that you may not leave the ring—if you do either of those things, you lose. Simple, is it not?”
“And what makes you think I would engage in such child’s play? Step out of there, Lady Floortje!”
The knight pulled out his longsword and pointed it at me. I shrugged in response. Such a bother... As if coming to my aid, a translucent announcer appeared.
“Wh-What?! Is that a ghost?!”
“It’s a yobidashi.” The yobidashi in question pointed his translucent fan at me.
“On the east, Flo-or-tje... On the west, O-ve...”
The announcer spoke in a thoroughly hoarse voice. When Ove’s name was called, he was dragged into the ring as if pulled by forces unknown.
“God almighty! How are you doing this?!”
With that, the translucent announcer vanished, replaced by a translucent gyōji—a referee.
“Face each other.”
Evidently still compelled to obey, my opponent stood before the shikiri-sen—the two starting lines—on his side of the ring. So did I.