Lay Your Eyes on My True Powers!

It's a new day.

I sit in my reserved seat and sip my free coffee. Apparently, nobody

except Mitsugoshi has figured out how to make this stuff yet. Hats off to

them.

"Mmm."

I take mine with loads of milk and sugar, by the way.

I wasn't huge on the reserved seating at first, but now that I've gotten

used to it, it certainly has its perks. The friendly maids bring me pretty much

anything I ask for free of charge, and it makes me feel kinda like a celebrity.

As I'm basking in the stadium's energy, Princess Iris makes her

appearance.

"Good morning."

"Morning."

"Is that coffee I see? It's been trendy lately. I enjoy the smell, but the

bitterness is a bit much for me…"

"You could always just make it into coffee milk with loads of sugar."

"Coffee milk…?"

Iris calls over one of the maids and orders one. She really is a woman of

action.

"Oh, this is nice…"

"Right? It's like a magic trick you can use to make every cup of coffee

taste the same."

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I follow her lead and order myself a fine banquet of toast and eggs.

If only this world had social media. The only way to make this meal better

would be if I could upload a smug selfie with the caption "Eating breakfast

in the deluxe suite with royalty!"

I finish eating right as various socialites begin trickling in.

As the name would suggest, their advent brings with it the beginning of

the socializing. Being the lowly son of a baron, I am completely left out of

the conversation. It's fine, though—I'd just as soon stay out. So please,

Princess Iris, stop trying to be nice enough to include me.

Things end up getting kind of awkward, but eventually, the second round

of the primaries gets underway.

The socialites take their seats, but right as things start settling down, the

door opens up.

I turn around and see a woman in a faded robe.

It conceals her face like it did before, but I can tell it's Beatrix.

She notices me and gives me a little wave, and I reply with a nod and a

smile. We meet again.

However, the rest of the socialites' gazes are cold.

I can practically hear them all thinking. Who is this woman wearing a

filthy robe? Remove her at once! The silence is stifling.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry, but you can't…" One of the maids calls out to her but

gets interrupted.

"It's fine. She's with me. Please come on in," beckons Iris as she invites

Beatrix in.

Beatrix comes and sits two seats down from me. Iris is between us.

Apparently, that was going to be Alexia's seat, if she was here.

"Princess Iris, who is she?"

"Beatrix the War Goddess."

Iris's answer sends a stir through the socialites.

"Is she really…?"

"She said she's the War Goddess…"

"The legendary swordmaster…"

Hey, this is cool! I wanna hear someone say That's the legendary

Shadow… at some point!

"It's been a while since you appeared in public."

"It has. I'm looking for someone." Beatrix nods as she answers the

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socialite's question. "My niece. She looks just like me."

Making sure not to repeat the mistake she made with me, she takes off her

hood.

"Damn, you're fine…"

"Do any of you recognize my face? I heard this country had sightings of

an elf bearing my visage."

"In this country, huh…? If I saw an elf as fair as you, Beatrix, I'd never

forget it."

"Have any of you seen her?"

"Sorry…"

The socialites all shake their heads.

"I see…" Disappointed, she puts her hood back up.

Iris apologizes to her. "I'm so sorry. Everyone here is well connected, so I

thought you might have some luck asking them."

"It's fine. I'm an elf, so I have time."

"By the way, did you watch any of the Bushin Festival?"

"Not much."

"Oh. Well, based on what you've seen, did any of the contestants catch

your interest?"

"My interest… Hmm…" She glances around as she thinks. "Cid."

She points at me.

"Um, Beatrix…?"

"Cid caught my interest. Someday, he'll be strong."

I instantly deny it. "Oh, no, I definitely won't."

I can feel everyone staring at me.

"That boy's going to become strong…?"

"It's true he was in the same class as me, but his fundamentals were

kinda…eh…"

"He is Claire's little brother, but he doesn't take to it the way she does…"

Finally, Iris cuts through the strained atmosphere, and that's the end of

that. "If that's what you think, Beatrix, then I'm certain you're right."

Still, though, the socialites eye Beatrix skeptically.

I can see them glancing at one another, as though asking themselves, Is

she the real deal…?

To them, she probably just looks like a dirty wanderer.

The way I see it, though, she carries herself naturally in the best sense of

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the word.

Her form, her personality, her bearing, and her strength as a whole are all

so unembellished that nobody realizes her real power.

"Now, would you mind if I was forward enough to ask you to point out

anything interesting you notice during the matches?"

"Okay."

Thanks to Iris's deference, though, it starts to feel like Beatrix is getting a

bit of respect.

The air is still a little strained as the second round of the Bushin Festival

primaries begins.

When Perv walks into the deluxe suite, a figure in a gray robe turns and

stares at him.

The person's face is hidden beneath a hood, but given the build, he can

tell it's probably a woman. After looking at Perv, she turns her gaze to King

Oriana, who's standing beside him.

Her assessment is brief.

"It stinks."

"That's pretty rude, lady."

"Sorry."

Perv suppresses his beating heart as he glares at the woman.

He's using a highly addictive herb to make a puppet of King Oriana. He

has no complaints about the drug's effectiveness, but it has the downside of

causing its users to exude a characteristic aroma.

However, he's masking the smell with perfume. There's no way anyone

has found him out.

"Perv, this is Beatrix the War Goddess."

"She's…"

Beatrix the War Goddess. Perv heard she'd made her way to the capital,

but here she is in the flesh.

She certainly doesn't look talented enough to merit the title of War

Goddess.

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Her robe is faded, and her manners are nonexistent. After a single word of

apology, she's already back to watching the match.

But even though she doesn't look strong…if she's as talented as the

rumors say, there's a chance he just can't perceive her strength. Given that

Princess Iris acknowledges her as the real thing, he should assume she's

right.

He knows that the War Goddess's face looks reminiscent of the great hero

Olivier's. If he could just get a good look…

"It seems I was being quite offensive without realizing it."

"Me, too."

Perv and Beatrix both apologize, and things settle down a bit. Now

everyone will think Beatrix's verbal gaffe had been a reference to Perv

himself.

Perv desperately wants to get off the topic of the smell.

He never imagined Beatrix would show up at the Bushin Festival, though.

And today of all days…

He quietly clicks his tongue.

"King Midgar, I trust you're well today?"

"Oh, very."

Perv changes his tone and offers salutations to King Midgar, who's sitting

atop a large throne placed among the deluxe suite's seats.

After exchanging a set of standard greetings, King Oriana sits down

beside King Midgar. Perv takes the next seat down and turns his attention to

covering King Oriana's conversational back.

The king can answer simple questions, but anything more complex will

give him trouble. Perv has no choice but to guide the conversation and

prevent King Oriana from screwing up.

That said, everything has gone according to plan so far.

His primary objective is securing Rose.

During their last encounter, she was already starting to show symptoms.

Her blood would undoubtedly prove a valuable asset to the Cult.

In order to ensure he gets her, he made a point of properly incentivizing

her.

Specifically, he threatened to have King Oriana kill King Midgar if Rose

doesn't show up at the Bushin Festival.

It was just a threat, of course, but Perv wouldn't particularly mind

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following through with it.

King Midgar's death would incite a war, and the Oriana Kingdom would

be finished. However, they already had plans underway to install a puppet

leader in Midgar afterward. If all went well, everything would fall into his

lap. There was a risk of abject failure, sure, but the potential rewards were

worth it.

The only thing that made him feel uneasy was the fact that Iris was there.

Perv could see she distrusted the hollow King Oriana. There was a chance

she'd be able to stop him.

However, he could easily remove that threat by simply conducting the

assassination during Iris's match. There shouldn't have been any additional

impediments.

But now Beatrix is here. Getting rid of her will be tough, and she's

probably even stronger than Iris. If Beatrix tries to stop him, she'll be a

greater obstacle than Iris.

Also, he still doesn't know what Mundane is after. Mundane is

undoubtedly a denizen of the underworld, meaning he must have some

objective. No matter how hard Perv searches, though, he keeps coming up

blank. This guy's a pro. Perv needs to be on high alert.

He lets out a heavy sigh.

Everything's going according to plan, but there are too many variables.

He doesn't feel remotely at ease.

Still, if Rose just shows up, everything's golden. He won't need to take

any risks.

And she's sure to. She can't just abandon her homeland and her father.

Perv knows her well enough to be certain of that.

True, there are a bunch of variables, but none of them matter.

Everything's going to be fine.

Perv keeps telling himself that as he shifts his focus to the match.

Time passes, and Claire Kagenou wins her bout handily.

"Oh-ho…"

He hadn't taken much notice of her before, but it turns out she's

unexpectedly skilled. Her magic is powerful, yet she doesn't let it control her.

As strong as she is now, she has the potential to become even stronger.

"It would seem…that Claire's gotten better." After watching Claire take

down her opponent, Iris stands from her seat. "My match is starting, so I'm

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afraid I must be off."

Everyone around her offers words of encouragement, and the dark-haired

boy sitting next to her stands as well.

"I gotta hit the can."

Nobody much cares about his comings and goings. Well, nobody except

Beatrix, who watches as he leaves.

His name is Cid, and he's utterly unremarkable. Perv was a little curious

how he ended up sitting next to the princess, but other than that, he doesn't

see much reason to care. He immediately forgets about Cid and turns his

attention to the next round.

Iris and Mundane's bout is a very important one for Perv.

He needs to figure out Mundane's strength and agenda as well as take

advantage of the opportunity Iris's absence poses.

After the two of them leave, a little time passes…and Iris and Mundane

take the stage.

When Iris arrives on the field, she's greeted with a thunderous round of

applause.

Her popularity makes it abundantly clear which one of the pair is the

tournament's protagonist.

She stares at Mundane and composes herself.

Mundane Mann is obviously going to be a fierce opponent. Even now that

she's standing across from him, she can't get a read on his strength but senses

something unfathomable lurking within him. His appearance is out of sync

with his actual ability. It makes him seem irregular, like he's hiding his true

nature.

However, Iris still is confident she can prevail. She has no other choice.

She believes it's her duty to win the Bushin Festival.

She isn't skilled at politics, and she herself knows that. The only thing she

can do for Midgar is act as a symbol of its strength.

It's her duty to instill faith in people that as long as Iris Midgar is around,

the kingdom will be safe.

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Even if that means letting herself be carried on the shoulders of others.

She's at peace with that. Her strength is her only asset, and she was content

letting herself be used as a political pawn.

Until recently, that is.

That was a price she paid for being carried by others for so long: She

stumbled the first time she tried to stand on her own two feet. Fearing for her

country's future, she'd tried to assemble the Crimson Order but found herself

powerless, unable to secure personnel or funds.

If she tried gathering members gradually, it would take ages before the

Crimson Order lived up to her expectations.

Even if she attempted to involve herself in politics, people would still just

treat her with superficial respect while using her for their own ends. That's

why she's opted to leave the politics to others and gather strength in areas in

which she's more skilled.

For example, she knows that popularity among the masses is a strength in

and of itself. She's also gathered allies she trusts to be the brains behind her

Order. All that's left to do is win the Bushin Festival and solidify the people's

love for her, and she's sure things will turn out well.

With that belief firm in her heart, she readies her sword and waits for the

announcer.

Her condolences to Mundane, but she plans on going all out from the getgo. Even if he does have something up his sleeve, she intends to end the

match before he has time to pull it out.

"Iris Midgar versus Mundane Mann!! Ready? Begin!!"

She wastes no time.

As soon as the match starts, she steps forward, then stops.

"…What?"

A tiny cry of confusion slips from her lips.

For some reason, Mundane seems farther away than he did before.

Has she misjudged the distance between them?

That's her first thought, but she knows she didn't. Still, it feels like the

gap between them has widened.

She doesn't know why. Maybe it's just nerves.

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Whatever the cause of her confusion, though, it definitely stops her.

She tries starting over.

She resets her emotions, readies her sword, and goes for a simple feint.

When she's sure she's drawn Mundane's gaze, she rushes him.

However…

"…?!"

Once again, she stops in her tracks.

She leans backward as though dodging something, then leaps back.

She had seen a sword.

She had seen Mundane's sword severing her neck.

However, Mundane's actual sword hadn't moved an inch.

And of course, her neck was still attached to her shoulders.

"Why…?" Iris can't keep the question inside.

She's sure she saw Mundane's blade.

The moment she advanced, she saw his sword and the colossal power

lurking within it cutting her throat.

She thought he'd read her like a book. And she'd seen her own defeat…

no, her death.

However, Mundane is still just standing there. His sword isn't even at the

ready. It's as though it had all been just an illusion.

She can't comprehend what just happened.

Iris slowly paces around him, trying to figure out what's up with his

sword.

One lap, two laps, three laps…

They're the exact same distance from each other as before. So why does

Mundane look so far away?

"…Aren't you coming?" Mundane asks.

Yet she can't take that step.

Every bone in her body is screaming for her not to go.

"Hrrraaaaahhhhhhh!!"

She roars in an attempt to dispel her hesitation.

After rocking back and forth, she puts one foot forward. It's the fastest

step she's ever taken.

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But—he's looking at her!!

Unblinking, Mundane's eyes are trained on her.

His gaze shifts, as though implying something.

"…Aahhhhhhh!!"

The moment it does, Iris's instincts force her to stop.

Doing so places a massive strain on her body, and her knee joints make an

unpleasant noise.

She stops in spite of that, then practically tumbles backward.

She's certain she just saw Mundane's sword running her through.

"No…"

However, her chest doesn't have a scratch.

There's no sign Mundane's weapon ever moved.

"You're kidding…"

He's still just standing there, not even bothering to put up a defense.

"…What's wrong?" he asks.

Faced with something unknowable, Iris's body shudders.

She has to do something.

Unease and fear swirl up inside her.

Mundane's gaze shifts again.

As he stares straight ahead, the tip of his sword twitches as though he's

predicting the future.

The moment it does, Iris envisions her arm getting lopped off.

"Oh no…"

Now she finally realizes.

Mundane had simply been making feints.

He understood her movements in their entirety, then used his eyes and

minute movements of the tip of his sword to send her a warning.

If you don't stop, you'll get cut, he'd been telling her.

That had been enough to make her hallucinate.

That's how real the illusion had been.

Iris recalls something her mentor once taught her: "An expert's 'lies' seem

all too real." And sure enough, she'd fallen for her mentor's feints time and

time again.

Mundane's moves felt even realer than her mentor's.

Was that even possible?

Iris isn't conceited enough to think she's the strongest person in the world.

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She understands that greatness is relative. Objectively speaking, though,

she's supposed to be one of the best dark knights alive.

To be able to drive a woman like her into a corner with feints alone?

That would make Mundane, without a doubt, the world's strongest fighter.

It would represent a degree of skill no one could hope to match.

Was that really possible?

Like hell it was.

Iris forces herself to believe that.

Don't get rattled.

He hasn't even raised his sword yet. Don't go deciding the match on mere

speculation.

"…Don't stop me," Iris quietly instructs her instincts.

After steeling her resolve not to stop, she takes that one step forward.

Something whizzes through the air.

A second passes.

Then, a fierce impact rocks Iris's body.

Her mind goes blank for a few seconds, and before she knows it, she's

looking up at the sky.

She's collapsed faceup in the dead center of the arena.

What happened?

She had been unable to see Mundane's blade, but he'd caught her in his

gaze the moment the impact landed.

It's a miracle she's still holding on to her sword.

She forces her unresponsive torso to rise.

"Iris Midgar…I expected more from you."

She finds a sword being thrust into her face.

Mundane is looking down at her. She can't detect any emotion in his eyes.

They're close enough that she could reach out and touch him, yet he

seems impossibly far away.

Far, far away…

Ah…so that's what it is.

Iris finally understands.

The reason he looks so far away isn't because of an illusion or a

hallucination.

From the very start, he's been looking down on her from the pinnacle of

heights. Even if she extends her entire hand, he's standing eternally beyond

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her reach…

Iris's sword falls from her grip and topples to the ground with a clang.

The noise echoes throughout the silent stadium.

Iris Midgar is defeated in a single blow.

The fact of it has everyone frozen in shock.

Not a sound can be heard.

That is, until the click, click, click of footsteps rings out from behind her.

The stadium begins to stir.

The footsteps continue forward. Click, click, click. Then, they come to a

stop.

The audience's eyes are glued to the person walking.

Even Mundane looks a little surprised.

"Father, I've returned."

There stands the Oriana Kingdom's beautiful princess, Rose Oriana.

Rose doesn't spare a glance for Iris and Mundane. Her honey-colored

eyes are glued to the deluxe suite.

The legendary Iris Midgar was beaten by a single sword stroke.

That simple fact stupefies Perv.

He knows members of the underworld more skilled than her, but could

even the strongest dark knight with whom he is familiar really bring Iris

Midgar down in a single swing?

No.

Unless they caught her by surprise or got incredibly lucky, there was no

way.

In other words, something unthinkable just happened.

Because Mundane took out Iris with one attack, it means he's the

strongest dark knight Perv knows of.

But he's practically a child…!

Nothing wounds Perv's pride as much as getting overtaken by someone he

considered below him.

The astonishment in his heart is quickly painted over with fiery envy.

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His brain races to reject Mundane.

Mundane's one-hit takedown of Iris must have been dumb luck. Even if it

wasn't, it probably has to do with their compatibility in combat. Iris just

happened to be a good match for Mundane, that's all.

Iris's strange behavior gives him cause for doubt, too. She stopped all of a

sudden as though wary of something, and she paced around Mundane for

seemingly no reason. Perhaps she's been under the weather, or maybe

Mundane took advantage of some weakness.

There are plenty of ways he can deny Mundane's strength.

And yet…

Perv found Mundane's swordplay daunting.

He realizes that he and Mundane see the world through different lenses.

Their assessment and approach to combat are fundamentally different.

Perv knows he could spend centuries training and never be able to catch up

with that boy. That's how polished Mundane's swordplay is. It's like he's

kneaded together the best parts of countless other martial arts and refined

them into a single, incomparable masterpiece.

As Perv tries to disavow Mundane's mastery, his heart is filled with the

innocent admiration of a child.

Mundane's sword style has a devilish charm that draws Perv. It's like how

he was captivated by his instructor's sword work as a boy.

He grinds his teeth.

He refuses to accept this.

He can't be sure this boy's skills reign supreme just yet.

Perv is no stranger to masters. However, he still hasn't met the Cult's

leadership.

Mundane can't possibly be the strongest.

"What did you think of the fight, Beatrix?" he asks, hoping to hear her

denounce him.

The blue eyes peeking out from within her robe are fixed on the boy. The

look in them…is one of wonder.

"…I want to fight him."

"What?"

Just as Perv is about to ask for clarification, though, a stir runs through the

crowd.

He turns to look at the arena, and there, he sees…

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"Rose Oriana…"

His mouth curls up into a sneer.

She's come.

What a stupid girl. The king and kingdom are beyond saving. The puppet

king is no more than a shell, and thanks to that, they control the country's

leader. Showing up here without even realizing that fact reveals a naïveté

unbefitting a princess.

Covering his mouth so his twisted grin won't be noticed, Perv steps

forward with King Oriana in tow.

"My dear Princess Rose. I see you've decided to return."

There's a long staircase leading straight from the deluxe suite to the arena.

Perv and King Oriana start descending it.

"Rose, I'm so glad you're back. Come up here." On Perv's instructions,

King Oriana speaks. His words are hollow and lifeless.

As Perv descends, he issues orders to his men with a glance, telling them

to be ready to capture Rose.

The princess begins ascending.

"Father, I've come to apologize. For everything I've done and for what

I'm about to do… I've made many mistakes, and I'm sure I'll make many

more. But as the princess of Oriana, and as your daughter…I'm walking

down a path I believe in."

Rose's voice is trembling. Her eyes are moist with tears.

But they're still filled with resolve.

Seeing that, Perv takes a step back.

He should send in the king first.

If he uses the king as a shield, the girl will be powerless.

As long as he has his puppet king, his plan can succeed without a hitch.

"I forgive you for your sins," replies King Oriana, but Perv hadn't told

him to say that.

"Thank you, Father."

Afterward, everything happens in a flash.

Rose draws her blade, and Perv reacts by hiding behind the king.

His men make their move.

Rose is too fast for them, though.

Perv's eyes widen in shock.

"Wh—?!"

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Abandoning everything, the girl stabs King Oriana through the heart with

her rapier.

"As the princess, and as your daughter…this will be my final

responsibility."

The king had been reaching out as though to embrace Rose, but halfway

through, his hand slumps lifelessly in the air. The rapier passes cleanly

through his heart and into Perv's chest.

"Thank you for everything."

She wrenches the rapier free.

Blood gushes from the king's heart as he topples to the ground.

Tears burst from Rose's eyes.

"H-how dare youuuu!!" Perv screeches.

Blood pours from Perv's chest, too, but his wound isn't lethal.

His rage stems from the loss of his puppet. His whole plan—in ruins.

"Get herrrrrrrr!!"

His men charge at Rose.

She doesn't attempt to flee.

As Perv watches her place the tip of her rapier against her throat, he

smiles.

She won't really—

His face goes pale.

"No! No! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

But just as Rose is about to pierce her neck…

"—So that's the choice you've made."

A beautiful, almost artistic flash cleaves through the air, slicing through

both Rose's rapier and the swords of the men bearing down on her.

Standing there is Mundane, the most unassuming of men.

"Y-you're…"

However, the sword he's holding is as black as night.