From a Far Height...

IRIS MIDGAR

The moment I stepped onto the arena floor, a literal wall of sound hit me. The cheers were deafening. I guess if you needed proof that I was the protagonist of this little festival, this was it.

I fixed my gaze on Jimina, who was just standing there on the opposite side, and tried to get my heart to stop racing.

Jimina Seinen. The guy was a total enigma. Facing him head-on, I couldn't pick up a single shred of presence or strength, yet the vibe he gave off was... bottomless. He was a complete contradiction—his scruffy appearance didn't match the weird, unquantifiable pressure radiating from him. He was a walking blur, a young man designed to delude the truth.

But I didn't let myself think I’d lose. More importantly, I couldn’t lose.

Winning the Bushin Festival wasn't just a goal; it was my mission.

I’ll be the first to admit it—I have zero political talent. I know it, and the court knows it. My only real job is to be the ultimate symbol of the Midgar Kingdom’s power. My "mission" is basically just existing so everyone else can sleep soundly at night, thinking, As long as Iris Midgar is around, we’re safe.

I didn’t even mind being a glorified figurehead. I knew my only real weapon was my strength, and I was perfectly aware that people were using me for their own political agendas.

Well, that was the case until recently.

The cost of being a "symbol" only became clear when I actually tried to stand on my own two feet. I was worried about the future of this country, so I started the Crimson Order. And what happened? No one joined, I had no budget, and I couldn't change a damn thing.

I’ve managed to scrap together a few people since then, but it’s a far cry from what I actually wanted to build.

And let’s be real—if I tried to dip my toes into the political shark tank now, I’d just get played and tossed aside. My only move is to leave the "smart stuff" to the professionals and focus on gathering power the only way I know how.

Popularity is its own kind of power. I’ve finally started recruiting the "brains" for the Knight Order’s leadership. Now, all I need is to win the Bushin Festival and cement my status with the public. If I can do that, everything else should fall into place.

At least, that’s what I’m banking on.

I lowered my sword into a stance and waited for the signal.

Sorry, Jimina, but I’m going all out from the jump. I don't care what you're hiding; I'm finishing this before you even have a chance to show it.

"Iris Midgar versus Jimina Seinen! Begin!"

I went for the blitz.

The instant the match started, I lunged forward—and then I slammed on the brakes.

"...Eh?"

A tiny, pathetic sound of confusion escaped my lips.

That was weird. For some reason, Jimina looked way further away than I’d estimated.

Did I mess up the distance?

No, I checked. My eyes said the range was right, but my gut was screaming that he was miles away. Maybe it was just nerves. Whatever. Either way, my momentum was dead.

Reset. Focus.

I shifted my mental gears, reset my stance, and threw out a light feint.

The second I saw his eyes follow the bait, I committed to the strike.

But then—

"...!?"

I stopped again.

I found myself arching my back and jumping away as if I were dodging a lethal blow.

I’d seen it. I’d seen Jimina’s blade whistling through the air, clean-cut and perfect, severing my head from my shoulders.

But Jimina hadn't moved an inch.

And, obviously, my head was still very much attached to my neck.

"Why...?" I whispered.

I had definitely seen his sword. The moment I tried to close in, I’d visualized his blade—dripping with overwhelming power—ending my life. I thought he’d timed it perfectly. I’d braced myself for defeat... no, I’d braced myself for death.

Yet, like a bad dream, there he was. Just standing there. He hadn't even bothered to raise his weapon.

I couldn't wrap my head around it. I kept my sword up and started circling him, my feet shuffling as I tried to find an opening.

One lap. Two. Three.

The distance between us was the same as always, yet he felt so distant.

"...Are you coming?" Jimina asked.

I couldn't. I literally couldn't take the step. My instincts were screaming at me, warning me that if I crossed that line, it was over.

"HAAAAAAAAAH!"

I let out a roar to drown out the doubt. I rocked my weight back and forth and then took a step. My fastest step.

But he's watching me!!

Jimina’s gaze was locked onto me. Then, his eyes shifted, almost like he was suggesting a specific path.

"—Aaahhh!!"

My body moved on its own, aborting the attack. The sheer force of the sudden stop put a massive strain on my frame; I could hear my knee joints protesting with an ugly creak. I didn't care. I rolled backward, putting as much space between us as possible.

I’d seen it again. I’d seen his sword piercing my heart.

"...No way."

My chest was fine. There wasn't even a scratch on my armor. Jimina hadn't even swung.

"This is a lie..."

He was just standing there in that same slouch, his sword still lowered.

"...What’s the matter?" he asked.

A chill ran down my spine. I was shaking. Whatever this was, it was beyond me.

Do something. Anything.

Impatience and terror were starting to boil over, forcing me to move. At that exact moment, Jimina’s eyes flickered again. As if he were looking into the future, the tip of his sword trembled—just a tiny bit.

In that instant, I hallucinated my arm flying through the air.

"A-ah..."

And then, it clicked.

He was feinting.

He had read every single one of my movements. He was using nothing but his gaze and the tiniest twitch of his sword to issue a warning: If you don’t stop, I’m going to cut you.

That was all it took for me to "see" his blade. I was so outclassed that I was hallucinating my own death as if it were a physical reality.

An old lesson from my master flashed through my mind: "A Master's 'Falsehood' is indistinguishable from the truth." Back then, as a kid, I’d been toyed with by my master's feints just like this.

But what Jimina was doing... this felt even more "real" than my master’s.

Was that even possible?

Look, I’m not arrogant enough to think I’m the strongest person in the entire world. I know there’s always a bigger fish. But as far as objective facts go, I’m supposed to be a top-tier Spellsword.

If someone can play with me using nothing but feints... then Jimina’s ability isn't just high. He’s unmistakably the strongest person in the world. An absolute, untouchable monster.

Is that even possible? Like, seriously?

No. It can't be.

I tried to talk myself down. Don't let him get in your head. He hasn't even swung yet. Stop jumping to conclusions.

"...Don't stop," I whispered, forcing the command into my own subconscious.

I steeled myself. I resolved that no matter what I "saw," I wouldn't stop. I took the step.

I heard a sound—the sound of something slicing through the air.

The next moment, a massive impact slammed into my entire body.

My vision went black for a few seconds. When it came back, I found myself staring up at the sky. I was flat on my back in the middle of the arena.

What just happened?

I hadn't seen the sword. All I knew was that Jimina’s eyes had caught mine, and then I’d been hit by a truck. It was a miracle I was still holding my sword.

I forced my sluggish body to sit up.

"Iris Midgar... is this really all you’ve got?"

A blade was leveled at my throat.

Jimina was looking down at me, his eyes completely void of emotion. He was right there—close enough to touch—and yet he felt further away than ever.

Far, far away...

Ah... I get it now.

It wasn't an illusion. It wasn't my imagination.

He’d been looking down on me from a far, far height since the very beginning. A height so extreme that no matter how much I reached out, I’d never be able to touch him...

My sword slipped from my hand, hitting the stone floor with a dry clatter.

That sound echoed through the deathly silent stadium.

Iris Midgar, defeated in a single blow.

Nobody moved. Everyone was too stunned to even breathe.

In that silence, I heard it. Clack. Clack.

Footsteps were approaching from behind me. The crowd finally began to stir, a low murmur rising like a tide.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

The footsteps stopped. The entire audience turned toward the newcomer. Even Jimina looked a little surprised.

"I have just now returned, Father."

There she was. The beautiful princess of the Oriana Kingdom: Rose Oriana.

Rose didn't even glance at me or Jimina. She just kept her honey-colored eyes fixed squarely on the Special Seat.