—The day of the semifinals.
While I was getting ready to leave the inn, Clarice, casually tidying the documents on the desk, called out to Serena, who was checking the clasp of her dagger.
"By the way, how was yesterday?"
"The festival? They seemed to have fun. Both of them. Master ate a lot of meat. On Her Majesty's coin."
"...I didn't even need to ask to know that."
"Also, on the way back. They were linking arms, pretty much."
Clarice's hands froze for a split second.
"...Hmm. Is that so?"
"Yes."
Serena said nothing more and returned the dagger to her waist. I couldn't help but feel Clarice's voice had dropped to a strangely low, flat register.
"Shall we get going soon? As far as I'm concerned, securing a top-four spot is more than enough. Winning anything beyond this will just blow through more money."
"After praising the soldiers like that yesterday, do you really think they're going to stop now?"
"I did tell them not to do anything reckless! They're the ones who raised the bar on their own, so don't pin all the blame on me."
◇
By the time we arrived at the Grand Drill Grounds, most of the spectator stands were already packed.
From the semifinals onward, the matches transitioned to a three-base control format. Flags were planted in the center, left, and right; whichever side held two or more bases when the final bell tolled would claim victory. Capturing two first didn't end the match—you had to defend them until time ran out.
In short, two out of three was all you needed.
"Then there's no reason to go for all three... Just taking two and defending them is plenty."
The first semifinal match was between House Eldran and House Kamase. Despite my silent wishes, the Eldran army secured both the center and right bases, closing it out with an overwhelming, decisive victory.
"My Kamase... When there was actually a chance I might not have to face that old man..."
"Who are you calling 'yours'?! Did you see that, youngster?! That is what the reigning champion looks like!"
Beside me, old man Galvas bellowed with laughter. Clarice stood a tier behind us, while Serena remained posted diagonally behind me on bodyguard duty.
Alecia had been in a remarkably good mood since yesterday.
"With that, Duke Eldran is through to the finals. All that's left is for you to join him."
"Don't make it sound so easy! Our next opponent is last year's runner-up, you know! More wounded soldiers means more medical bills; broken armor means repair costs; if swords bend, that's even more money down the drain! I'm already plenty satisfied, so I want them to have a match that's gentle on my wallet!"
"Even so, I believe you will win... Having watched your two matches, I can tell. When things look unfavorable, your soldiers listen closely to Raisa and Lydia, don't they? And their faces certainly don't look like they'll settle for fourth place anymore."
I, for one, was plenty satisfied, though...
Right on cue, Marquis Perkin took the trouble to walk over toward us.
"Duke Razgrim. My, my, truly marvelous! Not only have you reformed your domain at such a young age, but you also possess quite the keen insight into military affairs. Your first two matches were truly magnificent."
"...Aren't you laying it on a bit thick? Clarice handles most of the domain's administrative work, and I leave the military entirely to Raisa and Lydia, you know. All I really do is provide the necessary funds to grease the wheels."
"Oho... Refusing to boast of your own achievements, deferring all credit to your subordinates. Even after attaining the rank of duke, you maintain such humility..."
"I'm not deferring credit; I'm literally telling you it's not my doing... Wait, what is with that phrasing anyway...? Are you auditioning to become a minstrel or something?"
"Hahaha. Quite sharp-tongued, aren't we?"
—What is this guy laughing at? For some reason, every time I deny it, his opinion of me only seems to rise.
"In the first match, you dictated the enemy's movements; in the second, you conceded an early advantage before turning the tables... And today brings a three-base battle. I look forward to seeing what kind of move Your Grace will display."
"Even if you ask me about moves, I haven't got a clue... Though, you only need to take two to win, right? Rather than getting greedy for all three and scattering your forces, isn't it much easier to just capture and defend the two you need?"
Marquis Perkin's eyes narrowed.
"...I see. As expected, that is your angle."
"No, what angle? I'm just stating the rules."
"Fufufu... Pay it no mind. You have given me much to think about."
Just as he said that, an armored man approached from behind Marquis Perkin.
"My Lord Marquis, it is time to return. We must conduct the final check of our formations."
"Understood. I will be right there."
Marquis Perkin turned back to face me and offered a light bow.
"Until then, Duke Razgrim. We shall continue this on the battlefield."
"...The battlefield?"
Before I could ask what he meant, Marquis Perkin led his subordinate down the steps into the passage toward the competitor area.
Watching his retreating figure, I realized he had been wearing tournament-grade armor under his overcoat from the very start.
"Hey... Is that guy fighting in the match himself?"
Clarice, one step behind me, nodded.
"It's not against the rules for the head of the house to participate. As long as he counts toward the three hundred, there's no issue."
"I know that, but since he's a marquis, I assumed he'd just watch pompously from the back..."
"Don't measure everyone by your own standards!"
"I'm a duke, you know... In that case, there's even less reason for me to fight, right?"
Clarice looked like she wanted to retort, but I turned my gaze back to the tunnel where Marquis Perkin had vanished.
...The head of last year's runner-up house is actually picking up a sword and fighting himself...?
After watching his back disappear, I turned to Clarice.
"Hey, what was that guy's deal anyway? Is he out of his mind?"
"...I just hope you haven't given him the wrong idea."
"All I said was that taking two means victory! How else could he possibly interpret that?"
Beside us, only Alecia was giggling with amusement.
◇
Down on the Grand Drill Grounds, both armies were already at their starting marks.
At the front of the Razgrim army, Raisa was sizing up the right and center bases while verifying the soldiers' positions, while slightly behind her, Lydia was issuing final orders to the messengers. On the opposite side, House Perkin's three hundred men stood in crisp formation, with Perkin himself—who had been up in the spectator stands just moments ago—standing near the rear with a tournament sword sheathed at his hip.
"We're taking the left as planned! No need to rush and overreach for all three. We move once we see where they commit!"
"Messengers, report to me! Whether we clash on the right or in the center, report their numbers immediately!"
The soldiers barked short acknowledgments, each facing forward. The referee stationed at the center checked both flanks and raised an arm high. The chatter in the stands died away, replaced by a taut, stifling tension blanketing the field.
And then—the starting bell tolled.
The Razgrim army surged toward the left while the Perkin army pushed for the center, each securing their initial base. Both forces then rushed toward the contested right base, colliding head-on.
Shields slammed together, and tournament-grade swords and spears clashed. Even as Razgrim's soldiers pressed forward, every time a Perkin soldier fell back, the rear ranks stepped up to fill the void, keeping their line completely unbroken.
"Don't lose your heads! If you're pushed, rotate out! Break the line, and they'll swallow you whole!"
"Big sis! We can't punch through on the right!"
"I have eyes, you know! They aren't last year's runners-up for nothing... Lady Lydia! Can you spare thirty to the center?!"
"I can! However... we cannot afford to thin out the left any further!"
"That's plenty! We don't need to take it—just shake them up and see how they react!"
Around thirty soldiers broke off toward the center, but enemy reserves immediately flooded in, shoving Razgrim's detachment back.
On the right, the Perkin army rotated their front and rear ranks like clockwork. Right then, a messenger from Lydia sprinted over.
"Raisa-dono! More enemy reserves have shifted to the center! The rear rank on the right has thinned out. Their next rotation will be delayed!"
"Is that for real?!"
"Without a doubt!"
Raisa glanced at Lydia.
"...You've got sharp eyes. Then this is our chance! Right flank, take three steps back on my mark! Do not push back until the signal!"
The front rank yielded ground step by step. The moment the Perkin army stepped forward to rotate as usual, a seam opened between their shields.
"—Now!! Tear straight through the middle! Carve a path to the flag! Follow me!!"
"Ooooooohh!!"
The soldiers surged forward as one, throwing their weight into the gap. The shield wall fractured, forcing the Perkin army on the right to stumble back.
However, they couldn't reach the flag. Marquis Perkin, who had been holding the rear, drew his tournament sword.
"Hold the right! Maintain this line until the reserves return from the center! I will step in!"
The moment the Marquis himself entered the fray, the expressions of the wavering soldiers shifted instantly. Perkin batted one man aside and shoved another back shield and all, stabilizing the line.
"Big sis! That marquis is a monster!"
"I can see that! Good grief, jumping into the thick of it himself... Lady Lydia!"
"Yes!"
"I'm leaving overall command to you from here. Keep the left as it is, and don't overextend on the right. Hold it while watching for the enemies returning from the center. I'm going to stop that marquis!"
Lydia's eyes widened for a fraction of a second.
"...Y-You're entrusting the entire battle to me?"
"After watching you work for two months, I know full well how much you can handle. It's in your hands!"
Lydia immediately turned back to the battlefield.
"Understood! Right wing, hold your current positions! Enemy troops will return from the center—rear rank, prepare to guard the right flank! Under no circumstances is the left to move!"
"I'm counting on you, Lady Lydia!"
Raisa stepped forward.
"The former kingdom knight and leader of the Black Claw, Raisa! I have heard of your renown."
"Past titles don't mean a damn thing! Right now, I'm entrusted with Razgrim's soldiers! That's more than enough for me."
The moment Raisa caught Perkin's blow, a jarring shockwave numbed her arm to the bone. She parried his second strike, but the third grazed her shoulder.
"Tch... No wonder you made it to second place last year!"
Raisa struck back. But whenever she circled, he blocked her path; when she stepped in, he pulled back half a step to match her blade's tip. Unable to fully deflect a lateral slash, she was forced back two paces, and a follow-up thrust hammered the armor on her flank.
"Guh...!"
"Big sis!"
"Eyes on your own front! I'm not down yet!"
Deflecting the follow-up strike, Raisa let out a ragged breath and grinned.
"...Seriously, your swordsmanship is so textbook and clean. Your footwork, your parries, how you transition to the next strike. That makes it—incredibly easy to read!"
Trading blows, Raisa kept her eyes locked on Perkin's feet. After a heavy strike, his left foot slid half a step forward. From there, he would drive deep from the front once more.
"Nonsense!"
Perkin lunged forward. Raisa caught his descending blade, and the impact knocked her sword wide open.
"Got you!"
Perkin stepped in further.
"—I knew you'd do that!"
Without pulling her sword back, Raisa threw her entire body into his chest. Slamming in shoulder-first, she hooked her foot behind his planted heel and twisted her hips. Perkin grabbed her shoulder in an attempt to drag her down with him, but as they tangled and hit the dirt, it was Perkin who ended up flat on his back.
"Guh?! What?!"
His tournament sword skittered across the ground. Raisa, catching her breath on one knee, leveled the tip of her blade at Perkin's chest as he tried to scramble up.
"...Deflecting your sword was bait as well...?"
"Half of it, maybe...? My arm really did go numb. You've got an absurd amount of strength, you know."
"...No knight would ever choose to win like that."
"Sorry about that! I didn't come here for a pretty fencing duel. If it means winning, I'll use my shoulders, my legs, whatever it takes."
Perkin looked at his discarded sword and let out a heavy sigh.
"Damn it!... I yield."
"Marquis Perkin is combat ineffective!"
The moment the referee's call echoed out, the Perkin army's disciplined formation visibly fell into disarray. Conflicting orders overlapped, stalling the soldiers in their tracks.
Witnessing that momentary lapse, Lydia did not hesitate.
"—Now! Right wing, advance! Seize the flag before the enemy can reorganize their command! Do not move the left! Keep up the pressure on the center!"
The Razgrim soldiers cascaded forward, capturing the right flag. Lydia immediately transitioned to a defensive posture, holding both the left and right bases until the closing bell rang.
◇
A roar of cheers shook the Grand Drill Grounds. Both the left and right bore the Razgrim flags.
For a long moment, I couldn't move.
"...N-No way, right...? Did we actually win? Against last year's runner-up? My private soldiers... made it to the finals?"
No matter how many times I blinked, the flags remained unchanged. Still unable to believe it, I turned around to Clarice behind me.
"Clarice! This isn't a dream, is it?! Punch me for a second! If it hurts, I'll know it's real, so keep it light!...Keep it light, okay?!"
"Huh?!...Are you sure?"
"Yeah, so just a tap—Ow, dammit!!??"
A far heavier impact than I expected slammed into my cheek.
"Hey, that hurt! I said keep it light, didn't I?! I just wanted to check if it was a dream, so why did you follow through with a full swing like that?!"
"You're the one who told me to punch you, Vain!"
"There's a limit to everything...!"
For some reason, Clarice seemed to be in a slightly better mood than this morning... I have no idea why! Rubbing my stinging cheek, I looked back at the field, only to see Alecia smiling as if she had known the outcome all along.
"See, what did I tell you? I said you would win."
"Why are you so calm about this?! I'm only just now wrapping my head around the fact that my private soldiers actually made it to the finals, you know?!"
"They're the people you gathered, aren't they? I think you could afford to trust them a little more..."
"It's not that I don't trust them! I just wasn't told they were capable of going this far..."
Just then, Galvas beside me muttered quietly while staring at the battlefield, a rare solemnity in his voice.
"...Truly magnificent. Raisa taking down Perkin was impressive enough, but Lydia's quick judgment in mobilizing the entire force the instant she saw the opening was equally splendid. I never imagined the youngsters could achieve so much... Perhaps I should have entered the tournament myself this year."
His gaze was fixed entirely on Lydia.
"Entrusting that girl to your care was truly the right decision after all!"
"...You mean Lydia?"
"Aye! When it comes to military matters, she has always been unnervingly quick on the uptake... Teach her one thing, and she masters ten, then starts thinking up the next step on her own. However, staying with House Eldran would have only taught her orthodox warfare. I expected her to absorb something by staying at Razgrim's side... but to think she has already begun making it her own in just two short months!"
The corners of Galvas's mouth curled up in immense satisfaction.
"Gwahaha! She truly is my daughter after all!"
"So that's what this is about in the end..."
"Of course it is! Now then... just what has my daughter learned these past two months? I shall have her demonstrate it against my own army next."
I looked at Lydia and Raisa down on the battlefield, and past them, to the Eldran army standing in formation. Fourth place was supposed to be plenty. That really should have been more than enough—yet here we were, all the way in the finals.
And our next opponent was that old man's army. Having come this far, am I really the only one thinking, "This is more than enough"?
...I'm begging you, please stop exceeding my expectations.
—I genuinely prayed for that, but the atmosphere around me made it painfully clear that my wish had zero chance of coming true.