Aryagard, the demonic capital, the Dwarven Great Caves, and the Town of Yggdrasil had become known as the four capitals of sumo, holding frequent sumo performances. What spurred the expansion of the Age of Grand Sumo to nations other than Aryaka was Chancellor Mickaël’s rebellion, which began in the elven capital. During her escape, Crown Princess Floortje brought four peoples together and taught everyone the joys and depth of sumo. It was none other than this journey that caused sumo to spread all over the continent.
Let us take a small peek at each of the four capitals of sumo at the time, shall we?
Since it was an elven town, the Town of Yggdrasil saw extremely slow changes. But they were definitely starting to happen.
“Why are you always in that fenrir form, Your Majesty?” asked Marshal Cabriel.
“Oh, let me be. This form is more popular with the ladies because it’s so fluffy.”
“That attitude of yours is what brought on the revolution, you know. You should think about how you act.”
“Yeah, yeah...”
The fairy king’s flirty side had remained unchanged, but as far as the government was concerned, a mandatory retirement system had been established. Regardless of how capable an elf was, they were now obligated to change their post after fifty years in any single one. It appeared to have slightly alleviated the discontent of low-ranking elves.
Sumo fever had reached the Elven Forest Republic, and with the assistance of the Valhalla Sumo Association a new form of sumo, Elven Forest Grand Sumo, was born. Boorman took up the post of the first yokozuna. Elves had little weight and strength to speak of, but their agility and spirit magic gave them a chance in the ring. During sumo events in the Martial Arts Hall of Yggdrasil, all seats were sold out every day.
The Dwarven Great Caves had evolved into a central transit town for the Magic Train line. Tracks had been laid to Aryagard, the demonic capital, and the Town of Yggdrasil, and the great caves became a hub for logistics and travel. Many sumo stables appeared, and sumo events were held in the local gymnasium.
“We have to win the next joint tournament with the elves!” spoke Mamiana.
“Yes, Coach!”
Mamiana had become the first yokozuna of Dwarven Grand Sumo. During the joint tournaments between elves and dwarves held every season, her bouts with the elven yokozuna Boorman always became the talk of both towns.
The dwarves became so engrossed in sumo that, in everyone else’s eyes, smithing and sumo were the two main things dwarves were known for.
On the other end of the mountain range from the great caves, rail tracks led to the demonic realm, directly into its capital. Another Magic Train—one designed by the goblin professor—ran in these lands. This capital had been obsessed with sumo even before the elven uprising, but the Demon Lord’s defeat at the Town of Yggdrasil stirred the monsters’ determination not to share the same fate, leading to ever-greater enthusiasm for sumo.
While the Demon Lord had remained a yokozuna, Arima had joined him in this rank as the yokozuna of the west side, a slightly less prestigious status.
“We’ve got great strength and special abilities. Sometimes, though, those abilities can hold us back. It’s your intrinsic strength that matters in sumo. You gotta focus on the basic techniques of a proper rikishi rather than rely on those special abilities of yours.”
Through the guidance of the Demon Lord, the nation had come to be known as a sumo superpower, with all of its people said to be sumo wrestlers. It would be some time before Erhard made his debut in Demonic Sumo and shook up the rankings.
The rail tracks had been laid directly to Aryagard as well, and were actively used for logistics, travel, and commuting. The entirety of Aryaka became even crazier about sumo after seeing it save a friendly nation and bring down the Demon Lord’s army. As everybody trained hard and competed in Grand Sumo, numerous unforgettable matches were held in the Aryakan Sumo Hall.
Sweeping the backyard of the sumo hall, Adela paused to look up at the sky and take a breath.
“Things sure have taken a wild turn. But oh well. The important thing is that milady and His Highness are happy.”
Lady Floortje and Prince Richie were planning to have their nuptials come the fall on the dohyō of the Aryakan Sumo Hall, together with Clifton and Kukuri.
“Kukuri, what was ‘nuptials’ again?”
“Maybe a banquet where they give you lots of food.”
Hearing the silly exchange between Clifton and Kukuri, Edgar frowned.
“Seriously, you guys... ‘Nuptials’ is a more sophisticated word for marriage.”
“Oh...”
“Ah...”
Incidentally, a dohyō wedding became the dream of every girl in Aryaka, and it became extremely popular to have your wedding in the Aryakan Sumo Hall.
Lady Floortje continued her training in her stable without a word. She couldn’t remain a yokozuna if she let herself become giddy about the upcoming occasion, which was why she trained, quietly and fervently. Sometimes her eyes would meet those of the prince and the mood would grow sweet for a while, but we’ll look the other way on that matter. The two of them appeared to be very happy.
Now, where might the man responsible for the rebellion be? Around this time, Chancellor Mickaël lay collapsed on the ground of the Climaco Forest to the south. He couldn’t effortlessly get fruit from trees like he previously had in the elven forest, and he had to look for water. The thought of now being in this state despite once making it all the way to the post of chancellor tormented him.
“Oh? Check this out—there’s some guy lying over there.”
“It’s not every day you see someone collapsed in these parts!”
“Wow, he’s got pointy ears and a pretty face! We’ve got an elf on our hands.”
A noisy group of halflings had surrounded the chancellor.
“What brings you so close to a halfling village, elf?”
“Are you feral? Are you?”
“Here, have some water.”
The halflings looked after the chancellor.
“Th-Thank you...”
“Don’t worry about it. You would’ve done the same for us.”
“We don’t get a lot of elves. You’re so pretty!”
“You look sad. What happened?”
The chancellor told his rescuers the whole story of how he had attempted a revolution and failed. He was hoping for sympathy, but the halflings burst into laughter.
“Aha ha ha! Man, you’re dumb!”
“You lost to that sumo people have been talking about, huh?”
“What are you laughing at?!”
“You weren’t trying to improve someone’s lot in life—you just wanted to become a bigwig yourself!”
The halflings’ simple intuition rattled the Chancellor.
“So it was a total fiasco, eh? What can I say? These things happen.”
“Come to our village. We’ve never had an elf.”
“Yeah, you should come!”
“B-But I have nothing to give you in return... My pockets are empty...”
“You’re alive, dude!”
“Tell us about sumo.”
“Don’t worry about it. Things will work out!”
The chancellor was touched by the simplistic, childlike way of thinking demonstrated by the halflings—a big difference from what he was accustomed to. Was it all right not to overthink things? Was it fine just to live a simple, unsophisticated life? Was it acceptable not to strive for greatness or be cunning? As he began to suspect he had placed too much value in things that held no meaning whatsoever, doubts perturbed his mind, and tears started flowing from his eyes.
“Don’t cry!”
“Hey, you’re alive, and that’s what matters!”
“Now come on, let’s go to our village. You can stay as long as you like.”
“Yeah, it’d be good to have someone bright around! Or someone who can tell us about sumo!”
His hands pulled by the noisy halflings, Chancellor Mickaël took his first step on the road leading to the halflings’ village. It would be some time before the halflings adapted the sumo from the elf’s stories into a martial art of their own—Halfling Sumo. Dosukoi dosukoi!