Chapter 115 - Their Respective Resolve
“Rank seven… the [Sword Protector], huh…”
Having transitioned from the virtual to the real world, I sat on the Arcadia console that took up a third of my studio apartment and muttered to myself, smartphone in hand.
It was six in the morning, real-world time. Two hours had already passed since the registration for the selection tournament opened at this obscenely healthy hour.
Since time flows 1.5 times faster in Arcadia, I must have spent about three hours over there… No, don't you think that was a little too dense for just three hours?
In a flash, I’d advanced through the preliminaries, the first match, the second, and the third… and now, I was already on to the fourth. The number of players remaining in the tournament had already dropped below three digits.
And when it gets to this point, well… the probability of running into them naturally goes up. My opponent for the fourth match would be Istia's seventh-ranked player.
He was one of the top forty players in the virtual world of Arcadia… and if we’re talking strictly about warriors, he was one of the top thirty. The [Sword Protector] himself—Irori.
Since this is a tournament where you know your opponent in advance, it’s practically good manners to research them before the match.
While I was pretty much abducted via teleport for the last three matches with only a moment's notice, there was no way I wasn't going to make effective use of the official break time I’d been given.
The fourth match starts at nine AM real-world time, so I had a little under an hour.
That was by no means enough time, so I frantically typed “Arcadia Sword Protector Irori” into the search bar—
“No… way…”
What appeared on the screen was a handsome man with blond hair and blue eyes.
I don’t mean his avatar. I mean the man himself.
Irori, the [Sword Protector]—real name Nate Mitake, age twenty.
Not only did he show his face in the real world… he was apparently a model. My screen flooded with countless photos of him striking poses for the covers of stylish magazines, and my heart flooded with negative emotions toward handsome men.
Silky blond hair you’d expect to see on a girl.
Striking blue eyes with double eyelids you’d expect to see on a girl.
On top of that, he had a perfectly tall but not too tall physique, ridiculously long legs, and a slender frame… It was like he was the physical embodiment of the enemy of all average men.
His nationality, birth, and upbringing were purely Japanese. His mother was a foreigner, making him half-Japanese, just as his appearance suggested.
When I looked up his avatar in the virtual world, it was, of course, identical to his real-life appearance.
The fantasy-style samurai kamishimo he wore suited him so perfectly it was almost refreshing. Maybe it was because of a movie I saw once, but a foreigner in a samurai look has a strange kind of appeal…
…No, Nate-san’s real-life self doesn't matter right now. What I need to know about is Irori in the virtual world.
“A katana… of course.”
I could tell from his attire, but his only weapon was a single katana. It was apparently famous as an Anima, and fairly detailed data on it was scattered all over the internet.
Not only that, but there was also data on his kamishimo-style armor, the skills he possessed, and even some of his status values… All in all, his build was remarkably public.
I had to see that as a threat. It meant that even with his cards on the table, Irori had been able to defend his rank with absolute confidence.
…To be honest, this is bad.
“Isn't this… the worst possible matchup?”
I hadn't meant to say it out loud, but my voice was even more bitter than I’d expected.
Not only was he a ranker, a celestial being, but the publicly available data on him screamed my disadvantage from every corner.
I have no intention of fighting to lose… but still.
Given who my opponent was, this was going to be a battle far tougher than any I’d fought before.
With every new piece of information I took in, I suppressed the whining voice that threatened to surface and desperately scooped up every bit of data on my opponent, chased by the ticking clock of my short break.
◇◆◇◆◇
“—Hey, Irori. How’s it going?”
“…So-so, I suppose. So far, it’s been another one of those unremarkable tournaments.”
In a lavish room with ten seats prepared, two male voices echoed.
“Don’t be so harsh. Your opponents were probably trying their best.”
“I know, but… I can’t help but hold back, which makes it awkward to fight.”
Having to be considerate in a fight is frustrating. The young man lowered his brow in a troubled manner, and the imposing blond man let out a smile.
“I have good news for you, then. Your next opponent is a monster, the likes of which we haven’t seen in a while.”
“…Oh? I haven’t had time to pay much attention… Haru, was it?”
“Yeah. The rookie that Rotta can’t stop recommending.”
The young man’s expression, which had been treating the conversation as a joke, shifted.
“Rotta’s recommendation? That is, well…”
“Sounds promising, doesn’t it? I was called over a little while ago and got a quick look myself.”
“And how was he?” the man—Goldow—met the gaze of those blue eyes, stroking his beard and laughing with amusement.
“—It made me want to fight him, too.”
“—…Well, well.”
At his frank words, a genuine smile finally appeared on the young man’s—Irori's—face.
“If you’re going that far… then yes, I can expect great things. Perhaps I’ll allow myself to look forward to it.”
“Don’t let him catch you off guard. Super rookies are more than welcome, but it’d be a blow to our prestige if one of us rankers made a fool of ourselves.”
He said it jokingly, but his eyes weren’t smiling as the lion spoke.
“—If you’re going to lose, you’d better go down showing your true martial might.”
“…………Hmph, you’ve got some nerve, don’t you?”
Though he smiled gently, a sharp tension began to rise from him.
“Good fuel for the fire, right?”
“Hah, no doubt about it… You’re paying him that much attention, so you’ll be there to watch, won’t you?”
The [Sword Protector] turned and headed for the door, then glanced back at the [General Commander] who was seeing him off.
“—I’ll be getting serious for the first time in a while, so forgive me if it’s over in an instant.”
Contrary to his calm voice, his eyes, shining brilliantly, swirled with a ferocious fighting spirit.