A Battle to Attract Only MVPs!

The week ends, and the preliminaries for the Bushin Festival begin.

I'm currently watching the fights from the arena stands with Skel. The sun

is high in the sky, and attendance is sparse. Well, that's just how these rounds

are. In fact, the turnout is usually worse.

Yesterday, I had my second round of prelims. They weren't held in the

arena, though, but in a nearby meadow. You heard that right—the first and

second prelim rounds take place in a grassy field outside the capital. There

aren't any spectators, and the quality of competition is abysmal. I knock both

of my opponents out with lariats, but it doesn't bring me a shred of joy.

The third round is when we finally get to fight in the actual arena. By this

point, the quality of the fights is starting to barely approach respectability.

There aren't many people watching, but honestly, it's a surprise that there are

even as many as there are. The Bushin Festival's main attraction isn't the

primary rounds, after all.

"By the way, what happened to Po?" I ask Skel. He seems to be jotting

down notes of some sort.

"He had to plow the fields back at his parents' place."

"Ah."

Skel continues fervently scribbling as he watches the fights. I spot a

necklace in the shape of a holy sword draped around his neck. It's the

souvenir I bought him back in the Sacred Land. I'm glad he's actually

wearing it, but it also makes me question his taste in fashion.

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"What do you have going on there?"

"Collecting data on the battles. Noobs gamble on the fights with just their

gut, but I'm different. I make my bets based on stats, probabilities, and hard

data."

"Huh."

I glance at Skel's notepad.

The first few entries I spot read "seems strong," "seems weak," and "hell

if I know."

"You know, the trick to gambling is ending in the black," says Skel

boastfully. He keeps writing as he speaks.

"Who'da thunk?"

"See, when noobs gamble, they go ride or die on single fights. But not me.

I don't get attached to any one outcome. I count my fights by the dozen—the

more often I bet, the sooner the odds converge."

"Uh-huh."

"After all, I'm a man who always ends in the black…"

I yawn. "That's crazy, dude."

"It sounds like you're talking about something interesting."

Suddenly, another man appears behind me.

"We are?" I ask.

"It certainly sounded that way." The man, a showy blond hunk, grins.

"W-wait! I know you…!"

"You know this guy, Skel?"

"You're Goldy Gilded the Unbeaten Legend, right?!"

Goldy responds to Skel's glistening gaze by combing up his hair. "That

nickname is a little embarrassing. Call me Goldy Gilded the Victorious

Golden Dragon."

"O-of course! Goldy the Victorious Golden Dragon!"

I think Unbeaten Legend sounds cooler myself.

"So I see you're summing up data on the battles?"

"That's right!"

"That's some good thinking. I always make sure to do the same."

"R-really?!"

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"Of course. To make sure I always win."

"That's so badass! Do you have any cool stories you could tell me?"

"Oh, one or two, I suppose."

I suspect it isn't gonna stop at just two.

My fight's coming up soon, so the timing is perfect.

"I gotta go take a dump."

"Hurry back so you don't miss anything."

I go to the toilet and don my disguise before heading to the entrants'

waiting room.

Skel is listening to Goldy Gilded the Victorious Golden Dragon's theory on

victory with rapt attention.

"For instance, I'll use this next fight as an example."

"Got it!"

The next challengers are being called to the arena.

"Round three, match twelve! Gonzales versus Mundane Mann!"

The two dark knights square off against each other.

"My theory holds that it's possible to figure out roughly how strong each

side is before the fight even starts. Let's start with Gonzales. We can figure

out his physical prowess by analyzing how balanced his muscles are. Also,

based on the glint in his eyes and his arrogant disposition, he gives off an

aura of a tough, experienced fighter. His power level looks like it's around

1,364."

"P-power level?! What's that?!"

"By analyzing the battle data, it's possible to quantify someone's combat

capabilities—1,364 isn't bad."

"That's awesome!"

"As for his opponent, Mundane Mann…hmm."

Goldy Gilded the Victorious Golden Dragon casts a sharp stare

Mundane's way, then sinks into silence.

"Wh-what's the matter?"

"No…it's just that it's absurd. But…it's just so…"

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"M-Mr. Goldy, sir?"

"Ah, forgive me. I lost myself a little there."

"Wait… Is Mundane really that…?"

"Yeah…that man, Mundane Mann…is unbelievably incompetent!"

Goldy Gilded the Victorious Golden Dragon bursts into laughter.

"Huh…? Incompetent?"

"It boggles the mind that he's made it as far as the third round! An act of

god, maybe?"

"H-he does look weak, I guess…"

"His face looks weak, his body looks weak—even his aura looks weak!

Mundane's power level is thirty-three! Ha! That's the lowest I've ever seen

for a dark knight!"

"So Gonzales is going to win?"

"Yeah, it's gonna be over in a heartbeat. Hell, the fight almost isn't worth

watching."

And with that, the round begins.

Gonzales is the first to act.

With surprising agility given his brawny build, he closes the gap and bears

down on Mundane.

His movements are far more refined than those showcased in the other

third-round matches. It appears Goldy's estimation of him as a tough,

experienced fighter was on the mark.

Mundane doesn't even react to Gonzales's slash.

Everyone is certain Mundane's defeat is imminent, but then…Gonzales

collapses.

Right before he reaches Mundane, he trips and tumbles down.

His head hits the ground, and he's out like a light.

The crowd goes silent. Surely, he's going to get up, they all think.

But Gonzales doesn't move a hair.

When Mundane sheathes his sword and turns around, the verdict is finally

called.

"Th-the winner is Mundane Mann!"

"Th-this is bullshit!!"

"We want our money back, jackass!!"

Boos pour from the crowd around Gonzales's unconscious body.

Unsure of how to react, Skel looks over at Goldy Gilded the Victorious

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Golden Dragon.

"W-well, these things happen, too," says Goldy Gilded the Victorious

Golden Dragon. His cheek is twitching. "Battle data can give us an idea of

who will win, but when the chips are down, nothing is ever certain. This was

educational, I hope?"

"D-did you know this would happen…?"

"Heh…" Goldy Gilded the Victorious Golden Dragon doesn't offer him a

definitive answer. "Let me tell you a secret."

"Huh…?"

"There are two ways to win at betting. The first is figuring out who's

strong, then betting on them to win. The other is figuring out who's weak,

then betting on their opponents."

Goldy Gilded the Victorious Golden Dragon stands and turns to leave.

"Tomorrow is the fourth round, and the sixth match is Goldy Gilded the

Victorious Golden Dragon versus Mundane Mann."

"Wait! That means…!"

Goldy Gilded the Victorious Golden Dragon whirls around and points at

Skel.

"Can you…find the winning line?"

Then, he combs back his sparkling blond hair and makes his exit.

"He…he's so cool…"

Amazed, Skel watches Goldy Gilded the Victorious Golden Dragon leave.

"I finished taking my dump."

A young, dark-haired man returns to his seat.

"Hey, Cid! There's a fight tomorrow with a guaranteed win. Let's go all

in!"

"What? No."

"C'mon! Just take my word for it!"

"Screw that."

"Tch, fine. Your loss, man!"

And with that, the two of them go back to watching the matches.

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The fourth round of the Bushin Festival has begun.

Annerose is sitting in the front row of the stands, waiting for a certain

match to start.

Her pale-blue hair sways in the breeze, and her identically colored eyes

are fixed on the arena. There are more spectators than the previous day, but

the arena isn't even half-full.

"You came to watch that guy's fight, too, lady?"

Annerose hears someone call out to her and turns around. "I remember

you. You're…"

"Quinton."

Quinton still looks like a pro-wrestling villain and plants himself beside

Annerose.

"You saw his third round yesterday, right, lady?"

"I did. I take it you did, too?"

"Not on purpose, but I happened to catch it. Whaddaya make of Mundane

Mann's round?" Quinton stretches his legs as he asks Annerose the question.

"It certainly didn't look like he just lucked out and his opponent tripped."

"Yeah. That guy did somethin'. I don't have a rat's ass of a clue what it

was but thought you might. You're Annerose, one of Velgalta's Seven

Blades, after all."

For a moment, Quinton's arrogant gaze meets the steely glint in

Annerose's eyes.

Annerose immediately looks away and crosses her legs. Her white skin is

exposed beneath the slits in her skirt.

"I gave up that title. Now I'm just Annerose."

"My bad. Oh, and I know I'm late, but congrats on passing the Goddess's

Trial."

"Thank you."

"So you couldn't tell what Mundane did?"

"I—I couldn't." Annerose sounds a little sullen. "I didn't think there was

a chance I'd miss it, so I let my guard down. But…it looked like his right

hand moved."

"His right hand, huh?"

"I don't know what he did with it. All I know is that whatever it was, he

did it incredibly quickly."

"Huh. I guess that makes my guess wrong." Quinton exhales through his

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nose, annoyed.

"Your guess?

"I figured he'd used some kinda banned artifact or something."

"Interesting… We can't fully rule that out."

"Either way, we'll know after the match today."

"I suppose we will. His opponent is Goldy Gilded the Unbeaten Legend."

"Never heard of the guy, but I guess he's supposed to be famous.

Apparently, he's never lost a match."

A wry smile crosses Annerose's face. "Famous, yes. For better or for

worse."

"He strong?"

"Interesting question… I've fought in a number of different countries

before, both actual battles and tournaments in arenas like this. In my time

competing in tournaments, I've been matched up against Goldy Gilded three

times."

"Ah. And if Goldy's never lost…I guess that means he beat you."

Annerose glares at Quinton. "Don't be ridiculous. We never actually

fought. Whenever he's up against a strong foe, he simply drops out."

"What? The hell's up with that?"

"He's a man who'll never fight an opponent if he thinks there's a chance

he'll lose. He only fights those he knows he can beat, then withdraws once he

has to contend with anyone stronger. That's why they call him the Unbeaten

Legend—nobody has a chance to defeat him. I hear he doesn't like the name,

so he's been calling himself the Victorious Golden Dragon."

"Unbeaten and victorious, huh? They sound similar but mean totally

different things." Quinton laughs. "So you're saying we shouldn't expect

much from our friend the Unbeaten."

The corner of Annerose's mouth curls upward. "I wouldn't be so certain."

"Whaddaya mean?"

"Even fighting those he's sure he can beat, the Unbeaten Legend places

highly in his tournaments. He's even won a few of the smaller ones."

"Ah…so it's not like he's weak." Quinton's gaze intensifies.

"Exactly. Figuring out the difference in strength between himself and his

opponent is the man's forte. And he chose not to run from Mundane. In other

words…"

Quinton laughs violently. "Ah, it's all coming together."

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"Not even the Unbeaten Legend could tell how strong Mundane is."

"Either that or Mundane's just a coward who uses artifacts to cheat."

"And to add another twist, the Unbeaten Legend has only ever fought

those he knows he can best. He's never shown off the true extent of his

strength."

"Damn, things are starting to sound interesting."

"That they are."

Quinton smiles a beastly grin, and Annerose licks her lips.

Then, they both turn their attention to the arena.

Cheers and jeers flood the stadium, and Mundane Mann and Goldy Gilded

stare each other down.

Of all the spectators in the stands, only two understand the true

significance of this fight.

"Round four, match six! Goldy Gilded versus Mundane Mann! Ready?

Begin!"

Goldy seizes the initiative.

The moment the match starts, he immediately closes the gap.

Then, he swings his excessively decorated greatsword straight at

Mundane's neck.

His target, Mundane, hasn't even drawn his weapon yet. He's just

standing there, not even reacting.

Goldy, certain of his victory, flashes his pearly whites.

A loud crack rings out.

"Huh?"

Goldy lets out a small exclamation of surprise. But he's not the only one

—nobody in the stands is ready to believe what they just saw.

Goldy's sword passed clean through Mundane's neck, connecting with air

and air alone.

Goldy realizes his torso is wide open.

"Tch!"

His face twitches.

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Offered that decisive window, Mundane finally moves.

And yet.

He merely draws his sword slowly from its sheath.

That's all.

His movements are sluggish, and he's completely overlooking this nugget

of opportunity. It doesn't seem like he's even noticed.

Goldy puts some space between them, then glares at Mundane and spits

out a few words. "You making fun of me?"

His annoyance is all too clear.

"Didja catch it?" Quinton asks Annerose over in the stands.

"Just barely." She continues staring at Mundane with the eyes of a hawk.

"I knew ya were the real deal. I couldn't see shit. I thought the Unbeaten

Legend got Mundane's head good."

"Right. It wouldn't normally be possible to dodge the blow at that point.

But…before the sword hit him, Mundane cracked his neck."

Annerose's voice is filled with unconcealed shock.

"He cracked his neck? I don't follow."

"All he did was crack his neck. You know, like this." Annerose tilts her

neck to the side and cracks her joints.

"Nah, hold up. That doesn't make any sense."

"I know. But the moment he tilted his neck, it made that cracking sound,

and Goldy's sword missed."

"You're yanking my chain here! He tilted his neck to crack it and just so

happened to dodge the attack?"

"I think that's what happened."

"You're full of it! There's no way a coincidence like that's possible!!"

A serious look fills Annerose's eyes. "What if it wasn't a coincidence?"

"What?"

"He cracked his neck so fast, even I would have missed it if I hadn't been

specifically watching him. A normal person can't do that."

Common sense held that people couldn't crack their necks so fast as to

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render the motion invisible to the eye.

"Gah! You're right…"

"It's possible that dodging the sword was just an afterthought to him.

Mundane started with a desire to crack his neck while the attack happened to

be coming his way, so in addition to cracking his neck, he also dodged it."

"Bullshit! That right there, that's impossible! Goldy's swing was fast!

You're trying to say the kid dodged it as an afterthought?!"

"I'm only half-certain myself. Maybe it was all just a coincidence. But if

it wasn't…"

"…! There's no way I'm gonna believe that!"

Goldy glares at Mundane.

"You piss me off. Right there, you just missed a golden opportunity. You

had a real shot at beating me, a once-in-a-lifetime chance, and you let it slip

away like it was nothing. Meanwhile, you're just standing there cool as a

cucumber." Goldy grinds his teeth. "You should be mad. You should be

grieving. You should be scratching and clawing to try and win. The fact that

you aren't is basically an act of blasphemy against me."

Mundane just listens to Goldy in silence.

"Did you not even notice what you just missed? If that's the case, then I

guess I can't blame you. That's power level thirty-three for you."

Goldy tries and fails to stifle a laugh.

"But hell if I'm gonna let myself lose face to a nobody like you. I'm

gonna come at you with everything I've got. So don't come complaining to

me if you die. Capisce?"

Goldy readies his sword, then begins gathering magic in its blade.

The air vibrates as the magic accumulates.

A murmur runs through the crowd.

"Here's a fact you can take with you to the grave: My power level's four

thousand three hundred."

And in one fluid motion, Goldy closes the distance between them and

strikes.

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"Demonic Golden Dragon! Fatality Strike!!"

The wave of golden magic seems to take the form of a golden dragon,

devouring Mundane whole.

Or at least, it's supposed to.

Suddenly, an achoo! rings out, and the dragon vanishes.

"Blargh!!"

And as it does, Goldy gets sent spinning through the air.

The crowd stops murmuring.

Instead, they gape, dumbfounded, as Goldy crashes to the ground and

stops moving.

"Th-the winner is Mundane Mann!!"

As Mundane turns to leave, they're chanting his name in the stands.

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"That Goldy Gilded guy wasn't no pushover…"

That's the first thing to leave Quinton's mouth post-match.

After hearing Annerose's description of the man, Quinton's opinion of

him had been low.

He hadn't expected Goldy to be capable of materializing his magic to that

extent.

That final attack of Goldy's had enough power that it wouldn't have been

surprising if he'd advanced to the finals.

"He was definitely more powerful than I thought. If he'd been aiming for

the top and actually took on stronger opponents, he could've made an

outstanding dark knight."

"So what'd Mundane do at the end there?"

Annerose crosses her arms, sighing. "If I'm not mistaken…he sneezed."

"What?"

"The Golden Dragon must not have been too bright. When he sneezed, he

brought his sword down, and Goldy ran right into it."

"No, that doesn't make any sense. You're saying a sneeze beat a dragon?"

"It certainly seems that way. Goldy said Mundane missed a golden

opportunity, but maybe Mundane didn't see it as one. He could have taken

Goldy down whenever he wanted. In other words, he didn't need to seize

every opening… Or maybe to Mundane, Goldy was never not

defenseless…?"

Just considering this sends shivers down Annerose's spine.

It's impossible.

At the end of the day, it is only a theory… She assumes she must simply

be wildly overthinking things.

"This is nonsense." Quinton scoffs, then aggressively abandons his seat.

"But hey, it was my bad for taking you seriously. I ain't never gonna believe

in that kid. Even if he keeps winning, he's gonna run into me in the prelim

finals. I'll show everyone what a poser he really is."

Quinton casts one last glare at the Mundane-free arena, then leaves.

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Annerose, on the other hand, stays seated and recalls Mundane's

movements.

"Would I be able to pull off the same moves…?"

Still sitting, she cracks her neck and sneezes.

She tries it again and again, each time faster and with fewer wasted

movements.

Crack, achoo, crack-achoo-crack!

"A-achoo…"

Then, conscious of the strange looks she's getting from the people around

her, she goes bright red and flees.

The Unbeaten Legend has finally been broken.

News of his defeat spreads among the tournament fanatics like wildfire.

Even though it's still just the prelims, Goldy the Unbeaten Legend is a

dark knight to whom people pay attention. They are astonished to hear he's

lost to some nobody named Mundane, but their shock dwindles when they are

told how the fight went down.

Oh, sounds like he just won by some fluke.

That is more or less how most of the fanatics see it.

However, a few of them—along with some of the people who have

actually been watching the match—have doubts about how Mundane is being

assessed.

Because of that, they decide to attend Mundane's matches and judge his

strength firsthand.

"What's this?! Quinton is down!! And he's not getting back up!!

Mundane wins another match with a single blow!!"

The B-Block finals for the preliminary rounds end with Mundane's

victory.

Another one-hit win.

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The fanatics can't figure out what to make of him. That day's victory

qualifies him for the primary rounds, but nobody is quite sure how he's

actually done it.

There's no way he could have won so many times off pure luck, so he has

to have at least some skill.

In fact, his opponent in the prelim finals, Quinton, was a dark knight held

in high estimation by the enthusiastic crowd. The fact that Quinton lost to

Mundane without being able to put up a fight leaves the fanatics with little

choice but to acknowledge Mundane's strength.

However, because they can't figure out how he won, they can't really pin

down his true strength.

He's probably stronger than Quinton, but is he really fit to stand atop the

main stage?

He might be strong, but can he really stack up against the historic winners

of the Bushin Festival?

Arguments on the topic are heated.

In the end, most people decide he's probably on the weaker end among

the combatants scheduled to appear in the primaries.

Considering his lack of history, that's to be expected.

Everyone else has earned his or her reputation in tournaments or on the

battlefield, but Mundane has no notches in his belt to compare against theirs.

Objectively speaking, Mundane has nothing that proves his worth.

So, of course, expectations for him are low.

Still, a couple of the fanatics think he's a dark horse.

Given the list of contestants this time around, it's pretty much a guarantee

that Iris is going to take the Bushin Festival this year, but if anyone can upset

her…it's probably the miracle boy whose strength is yet unknown.

Such are the expectations being foisted upon Mundane as he leaves the

arena.

The primaries start the following week.

Round one is Mundane Mann versus Annerose.

Ninety percent of people expect Annerose to take the match.

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As I leave the stage, I think how the older guy I fought today seemed oddly

feisty. His name was Qui…something or other. I could literally feel the

hostility emanating from him. It was kinda invigorating.

Now I've qualified for the primary rounds that start next week.

The crowd's been pretty unimpressed with me so far, but next week is

when I'm gonna show off my true strength, so I need to run through some

scenarios in the interim.

As I walk down the long hallway to the players' entrance and think about

my regimen for the coming week, a woman with pale-blue hair steps in front

of me. I'm pretty sure she's named Annerose.

"Can I help you…?"

"I never imagined you'd make it to the primaries. Good work."

Her firm gaze bores into me.

"It was a foregone conclusion."

"Uh-huh. I see I misjudged your strength, but that's it. I have one warning

for you."

"Yeah…?"

"I've seen through your movements. Don't expect to be able to beat me

the same way." A confident smile crosses Annerose's face.

"Heh…"

The corner of my mouth curls upward, and I pass by her indifferently, as

though to say There's nothing more to discuss.

I scream internally. Please call after me!

"What's so funny?" Annerose glares at me.

You're the best!

I look back over my shoulder and cast a glance at her. "I've got a warning

for you, too…"

With that, I take off the wristband I've been wearing in the hopes that

something like this would happen. I toss it at Annerose's feet.

Thud.

The band makes a hefty noise as it crashes to the floor.

"Th-those are… No way. You mean you had all these weights on you

when you were fighting…?!"

"These were the chains holding me back… But now, playtime is over…"

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Thud. Thud. Thud.

I remove the weights from my other wrist and both ankles, then start

walking off again.

"Wh—…? W-wait!"

This time, I don't stop.

"Wait, I said!"

Annerose frantically rushes in front of me.

"Don't think this means you've won. See, look…"

She cracks her neck.

And for whatever reason, she does it super-fast.

"I can do this, too, you know…"

"…I see."

Not at all following, I pass by Annerose and her triumphant expression.

I wonder what she was trying to do just now.