Chapter 116 - The Main Selection Tournament, Fourth Match
“This looks bad.”
“Oh, um…”
Just before the fourth match—my fight against the [Sword Protector]—I met up with Sora in a room Rotta had lent us as a private waiting area and voiced my conclusion without a second thought.
“The matchup is just too awful… If I attack carelessly, I could get turned to dust in an instant.”
“Well, I mean… given who you’re up against, I can’t exactly say anything irresponsible…”
Sora must have already known about him. I was aware of how pathetic I sounded, but her reaction was along the lines of, Well, of course…
“…………But, still.”
As she spoke, Sora scooped up my hand, held it, and looked up at me.
Reading the expectation in her eyes, I gave a wry smile and nodded back.
“I don’t plan on fighting to lose, either. I’ve saved up all sorts of things for this moment. I’ll give him the surprise of his life.”
And if I’m lucky—…Nah, that’s probably asking too much.
Though I’ve relied heavily on surprise tactics, I’ve definitely fought my way this far. I’m starting to have a certain amount of pride in my own abilities—but even that has its limits.
My understanding of them is recent and hastily acquired, but Arcadia's rankers are like top athletes in the real world.
If you asked me if I, with my half-baked skills, could suddenly stand alongside them… I’m not conceited enough to nod confidently.
—Honestly, I’m shaking.
Irori, the [Sword Protector]… A true celestial being, widely known even in the real world.
The fact that I’m the one who will face and challenge such a person. My sense of reality, my resolve, my confidence—none of it is nearly enough.
—The fourth match of the selection tournament will begin shortly.
But still… yeah, that’s right. It’s but still.
“Sora.”
I looked back into her amber eyes, which believed in me without a shred of doubt. It’s truly heartwarming—and it makes me want to answer that belief, no matter what.
“I’m gonna go wild—so just watch.”
“...Yes! Please, do your best!”
If this girl has expectations for me… then I have no choice but to be cool, right?
◇◆◇◆◇
“………………So.”
It started the moment I entered the venue? The match hasn’t even begun yet.
I wanted to retort, but amid the deafening roar of the crowd, I didn’t even have it in me to force a wry smile. I just stood there, dumbfounded.
Everywhere I looked, there were people. People, people, people upon people… An enormous crowd packed the stands, so many I couldn’t even begin to count. I’ve never seen it in person, but is this what a concert at the Budokan is like?
It looked like there were at least a thousand players packed in there, and it was obvious what they had all gathered to see.
“—Well, hello. It’s a pleasure to meet you, promising superstar.”
“...Y-You’re too kind.”
This was my third time on the arena stage. In the previous three fights, both my opponent and I had waited at opposite ends for the signal to start—but now, the person walking right up to me and smiling was the same handsome, blond-haired, blue-eyed man I’d just been looking at on my phone screen.
Irori, the [Sword Protector]—seventh rank of Istia, a katana wielder whose strength lies in his absolute defense.
“I heard about you from someone else. I was looking forward to meeting you.”
“…You’re too kind.”
Damn it, I can only respond like a commoner meeting a celebrity. No, it’s not like that, it is that. There’s no way I can act natural!
Seeing me tense up so obviously, he let out a chuckle and casually extended his right hand.
“Don’t be so nervous. I have high hopes for you, so show me everything you’ve got.”
“—Hk…!”
This was a first for me. Feeling like I might actually stumble backward from the pressure of someone’s words.
His features were so refined they could almost be described as androgynous, his smile so gentle it could disarm anyone, man or woman—and yet, what he emitted was the unmistakable pressure of a warrior.
With that intimidation piled on top of my nervousness, I was about to freeze up completely—but I glanced to the side, punched myself hard in the chest, and snapped out of it.
Don’t you freeze up on me, you coward. Don’t you forget who’s watching.
My eyes caught sight of a small figure with flowing golden hair in the special seating, and I swallowed down the distracting emotions that were clouding my thoughts.
I just decided I was going to be cool—who the hell cares who my opponent is?
“…Nice.”
I kicked away my nervousness and fear and firmly grasped the offered hand. When I met his gaze directly, the smiling [Sword Protector]’s lips curled into an amused smirk.
“My apologies. I was getting uncharacteristically spooked… I’ll show you the full power you’re asking for, so please, have high expectations.”
“That’s more than welcome. I’m looking forward to it.”
—The fourth match of the selection tournament will now begin.
The countdown announcement started. As I watched the [Sword Protector] release my hand, turn, and walk away, I exhaled the breath that was building up with limitless heat, like venting exhaust.
My nervousness hasn’t vanished.
My resolve is still lacking.
There's no way I can just flip a switch and get over it.
What’s going to move my avatar from here on out is pure, simple pride.
No matter how big the wall is, there are three people I can’t afford to look pathetic in front of. How could I ever face them and say I lost because I was scared?
As the count approached zero, I forced my virtual heartbeat to calm down.
The roar that rattled my eardrums faded, and the world subtly changed color.
I reached for that feeling I’d experienced in every life-or-death battle so far—and my vision focused on a single thing: the enemy.
Good. Not bad.
The [Sword Protector] drew the katana at his hip. Just as the intel said, it was a magnificent uchigatana that shone with a bluish tint. He held it in a perfect middle stance, and from behind the tip of the blade, his narrowed blue eyes urged me on.
“Alright then… I guess it’s time for a little debut.”
My right hand grasped the hilt of the short sword that had long been a mere decoration at my waist.
I drew it in a single, unhesitating motion, and the crimson blade let out a high-pitched ring as it scraped against the black scabbard.
[Parabellum Rabbit Dagger]—the blade of this short sword was no ordinary thing.
From its midpoint to the tip, it tapered like a stiletto, a form that some might even call misshapen.
Its crimson core seemed to writhe, and its crimson edge glittered as it caught the light.
It had a two-to-one blade-to-hilt ratio and a guardless aikuchi style.
This single, feather-light blade—however, it radiated enough informational pressure to make the Ranker standing opposite me narrow his eyes.
Countdown 3—I inhaled and held my breath.
Countdown 2—I didn’t take a stance with the drawn dagger, just let it hang by my side.
Countdown 1—I raised my empty left hand. Fingers spread, I brought it up over my right shoulder, and—
Countdown Zero—The sound was still distant, only the vibration of the system call and the roar of the crowd announcing the start of the battle, and in response,
“—Parabellum Bullet!!”
With a single swing of my left hand, countless crimson blades shot through the air—and the battle began.
Tomorrow.