"Hahaha! What a disaster. That’s what you get for running off on your own instead of cheering for me."
In the dining hall of the Eternal Sky Inn, Ruzy laughed as he heard that Rei had been attacked by assassins earlier that day. His cheerful mood was undoubtedly fueled by his victory in today’s match.
Rei had heard from Rhodos that it had been a fairly fierce struggle, but any wounds Ruzy had sustained on stage were already long gone.
"Ruzy is in high spirits, at least... Sigh."
The one letting out the melancholy sigh was Most. While Ruzy had fought today, Most’s match was scheduled for tomorrow. Furthermore, his opponent was Varg—a former knight of the Bestia Empire and an orthodox sword user. For Most, a mage, it was an exceptionally poor matchup.
"Well, don't worry so much. You were trained by Rei too, weren't you?"
"Yes, that’s true, I suppose... but even though I was trained by Rei-san, who could be called a great mage, the only thing that improved was my dagger work, not my magic. As a mage, don't you think there’s something fundamentally wrong with that?"
Most leaked his complaints along with another heavy sigh. Having heard the rumors surrounding Crimson, he had clearly hoped that Rei would train him in the finer points of magical technique.
"But being able to use a dagger actually came in handy, didn't it?"
At Rhodos's words, Most nodded, though his expression remained unconvinced. In truth, he knew better than anyone that if his dagger skills had been any worse, he wouldn't have made it through the qualifying rounds at all. He couldn't exactly complain, yet offering words of gratitude felt strangely irritating.
Watching Most’s complicated expression, Rei spoke up while stuffing grilled meat skewers and salad into a sliced piece of bread.
"I think I told you before, but I'm not a pure mage. If you expect that kind of instruction from me, you're looking in the wrong place. If you really want to learn magic theory, you'd be better off asking a different mage."
"...I know. But it’s also a fact that I would have lost the qualifiers if not for your teaching. What should I do for the main tournament tomorrow?"
Most was facing a one-on-one duel against a man who, though retired, was a knight specializing in close combat. It was easy to guess that Varg would have numerous ways to shut down a mage.
"If only tamed monsters were allowed, you could have left the vanguard duties to them."
"No, no. I don't have a tamed monster, and I can't use summoning magic anyway."
Rei voiced his dissatisfaction with the rules of the fighting tournament, while Most pointed out that such a rule change wouldn't help him anyway. In truth, Rei was likely more annoyed by the fact that he couldn't fight alongside Set.
Against an ordinary opponent, it might not have mattered, but the ability to use Set's power would be a massive factor when facing an adventurer like Noise.
(Well, considering I have to limit my skill usage anyway, I’m far from perfect status.)
Rei mused that if he could overcome or destroy the wall known as Noise, he wouldn't mind fully demonstrating Set’s abilities in front of the crowd.
"Anyway, I'll do what I can in tomorrow's match. I do have a trump card, after all."
Despite his gentle demeanor, Most’s face held a glimmer of genuine confidence.
"Heh... In that case, maybe I'll go watch Most’s match tomorrow."
"Please do. You've looked after us in many ways, Rei-san. You're more than welcome."
They continued their conversation while finishing their meal.
The next day, as promised, Rei was at the arena.
While fed up with the usual crowds, he chose to sit in the general audience section. Being in the VIP room would only subject him to the hostile glares of the Bestia Empire's nobles.
He had reported the previous day's assassination attempt to Daskar, but there was ultimately little the man could do. Officially, Rei had no connection to Daskar’s guard detail. While their personal friendship was unchanged, Daskar couldn't intervene in a public capacity; an adventurer’s actions were their own responsibility.
Standing out had been the initial objective requested by Theoreme and Vihera, and Rei was already doing that more than enough. He figured that if he spent a day being less conspicuous, the people targeting him might finally show their tails.
Of course, the fact that he was curious about Most’s trump card was also true.
"Hey, the next match is a mage against a knight, right? How do you think it'll go?"
Likely because of his hood, one of the spectators mistook Rei for a regular guest and struck up a conversation. The man seemed flushed with excitement from the previous matches, calling out to Rei and everyone else nearby.
"Let's see... I think the mage is at a disadvantage. Chanting magic makes you nearly defenseless, after all. But Most showed some skill with a dagger in the qualifiers, so we'll see. If he has a trump card he kept hidden until now, there might be a sudden reversal."
"You think so too, brother? The rules are tough on pure mages. Personally, I want to see some flashy spells. Like that magic Crimson showed in the qualifiers."
"...I suppose so."
Rei faltered for a moment at the sudden mention of himself, but managed a word of agreement. The man tilted his head, sensing something unnatural in Rei’s manner, but his high energy pushed the thought aside as he kept talking. Rei didn't want to be cold to someone who didn't harbor any hatred toward the name Crimson, so he enjoyed the idle chatter with the crowd until the match began.
"You're strong, aren't you?" Most muttered, staring at his opponent, Varg.
The sheer pressure of standing before the former knight was overwhelming. Most was forced to conclude that their power levels were worlds apart. He had watched Varg’s qualifying matches and thought he might have a chance if he used his trump card, but facing the man directly, he realized how reckless that thought was.
"So you can read your opponent's strength? You're quite talented for your age," Varg replied with a faint smile.
True to his background, he wore metal half plate armor rather than leather, and he carried a longsword. He appeared to be in his mid-thirties—over a decade older than Most. In terms of raw combat experience, Most was hopelessly outclassed. Furthermore, as an adventurer, Most’s primary experience was against monsters, not people.
(Even so... as a member of the Wind Dragon Fang, I won't let this be a pathetic fight!)
Most steeled himself, gripping his staff and focusing every ounce of his will on his opponent.
"Match, begin!"
The moment the referee's voice echoed, Most began weaving a spell.
"I, harboring the protection of magic power within this body, shall become a shield. O sturdy wall, O great magic power, take form—"
If he had been given a few more seconds, the spell would have activated. However, Varg was a former knight. Unlike an adventurer, he had been trained to fight humans, and he understood the fundamental rule of fighting a mage: never let them finish an incantation.
Varg closed the distance instantly and swung his longsword. The blade whistled toward Most’s torso in a horizontal slash. Most, having practiced with a dagger, managed to react, but he couldn't maintain his chant.
"Uwaaaaaah!"
He blocked the strike with a hastily drawn dagger, but a mage's strength was no match for a knight's power. Lacking the technical skill to parry the blow, Most was sent flying. He managed to balance himself in mid-air and land on his feet using his staff, a feat worthy of praise.
Varg’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. He hadn't expected a mage to fully defend against that strike. The fact that he didn't immediately follow up spoke to the depth of his shock.
That opening was exactly what Most had been waiting for. He funneled his magic power into his trump card.
"Eeeeeeyah!"
Most shouted and lunged forward. Instead of retreating as a mage should, he closed the distance with a burst of speed that seemed impossible for someone of his class. Varg’s eyes widened further as Most appeared before him in a flash, but the knight still managed to tighten his grip on his sword.
"Too slow!"
Without hesitation, Most swung his staff with all his might at Varg's face. A heavy, wet thwack echoed through the arena.
Most didn't stop there. This was the only chance he would ever have to win. His physical ability hadn't suddenly awakened; it was the effect of Most’s treasured magic item—a bracelet that granted physical enhancement equivalent to a warrior's. It was a powerful tool, but it had a fatal flaw: it shattered after a single use. This was his first and last opportunity.
"Yaaaaaaaaah!"
He swung the staff again and again. He battered Varg's helmet, knocking his head back and slamming into his guard. Varg’s head snapped with each impact, but his body refused to collapse.
After several dozen seconds, Most’s momentum began to fail. The physical enhancement effect was wearing off.
"Huff... huff... huff..."
The moment his movements returned to normal, a sharp crack signaled the end. The bracelet on his right wrist shattered and fell to the stage.
"...I see. You used a magic item to supplement your weaknesses. But... it still wasn't enough."
Varg stood his ground. A thin trickle of blood ran from his lip, but that appeared to be the extent of his injuries.
"No way..."
"Even with your physical ability enhanced, the fact that your technique remained that of a mage was fatal."
Before Most could respond, Varg lunged. He slammed the flat of his longsword into Most's torso. Knowing Most was exhausted and unable to resist, Varg chose to strike with the side of the blade—a final act of mercy.
Most was sent tumbling across the stage, bouncing several times before sliding off the edge and falling out of bounds.
"That's enough! The winner is Varg!"
The referee's voice signaled the end of the match. Varg raised his hand to the cheers of the crowd.
Most picked himself up, glancing back at the stage. The blow had felt like it might crack a rib, but the arena's protective magic had already erased the physical damage. Still, the phantom sensation of the impact remained.
"Ow, ow... As I thought, he was more than I could handle. Even with my trump card..."
Most looked at the shards of the bracelet on the stage. It had been an expensive and rare item, one he had struggled greatly to obtain.
"Well, I put up a fight... and I'm not dead, so I'll call it a win."
"Indeed. Your physical strength surprised me," a voice said.
Most looked up to see Varg standing there, having already stepped off the stage. The cut on his lip had vanished.
"Even so... what was I supposed to do against metal armor with just a staff?"
"Well, I'm not wearing full plate mail. You should have aimed for the gaps in my joints or gone for the torso more effectively."
"Don't be unreasonable. I'm just a mage, not a vanguard class..."
"I suppose so. Regardless, it was a good match."
"Yes... I learned a lot."
The two men shook hands and returned to their respective tunnels. And so, Most became the first member of the Wind Dragon Fang to be eliminated from the main tournament.