—The Martial City of Luzahal.
Luzahal lay roughly two days south of Balse by carriage.
If Balse was a hunter's paradise, Luzahal was Amelia Kingdom's premier martial city.
Over a hundred dojos spanning countless martial disciplines were established throughout the city, and prestigious weapon and armor shops lined the main thoroughfares. It was a dream destination for any martial artist. That was Luzahal.
"As expected right before the tournament, the crowds are immense."
Reflecting on the distant memory of when my grandfather had brought me here, I voiced my candid impression.
"Have you been to this city before, Kai?"
Beside me, Rose peered up at my face with curiosity.
"More or less."
To my senses, it felt like a hundred thousand years ago, yet in my memories, it had only been a few years back—a truly bizarre sensation.
"I'll go register for the tournament now."
"Understood. In that case, I will take little Faf and head to the inn first."
"Faf wants to go with Master too!"
I gently patted the head of Faf, who was clinging to me as usual.
"Asta is securing our rooms right now. Until he's done, I need you to protect these two."
I offered her a gentle request.
"Ooh, understood! Faf will do her best!"
She pumped her right fist into the air, full of energy as always. Yes, yes—ever the obedient, good girl, Faf.
"Well then, I leave them in your hands."
"Yes, leave it to me."
Leaving a nodding Rose behind, I turned and made my way toward the reception desk.
I gave my name, school, and Gift to the young woman at the counter. According to Rose, providing false information could result in disqualification or heavy fines—needless headaches down the line—so I stated everything accurately. Though when I told her my Gift was "Most Incompetent in the World," she gave me a look of pure pity.
Incidentally, my school was, of course, "Kai-Style Swordsmanship." After all, the Heinemann sword style was no longer mine.
After paying the thirty thousand Aul fee with the funds I had borrowed from Rose, I was handed what looked like a tournament program.
Just as I turned to head for the inn to meet up with Asta—
"Hey, incompetent! What the hell are you doing here?!"
A harsh, grating voice struck my back.
Turning around, I saw a hulking man with a shaved head and a cleft chin. Behind him stood several boys and girls, all looking at me with undisguised contempt.
I recognized every single one of them. They were the assistant instructor and disciples from the Heinemann style dojo. Most likely, these youngsters were here to compete.
It was the kingdom's grandest tournament, after all. Merely advancing to the preliminary finals at a young age would prove one's mettle and elevate the dojo's prestige. There was nothing strange about them being here.
"As you well know, I have already cut ties with the Heinemann family. Therefore, where I go and what I do is my own affair. You have no right to interfere with my actions. Am I mistaken?"
"Don't give me that crap! Everyone knows you were part of the Heinemann family until recently. Hardly anyone even knows you left! If you go out there and make a fool of yourself, do you have any idea how much mud you'll drag the Heinemann sword style's name through?! Get out of this city right now!"
What a noisy, squawking brat. Now then, how should I handle this?
"Instructor Shiga, don't worry about it. We're Heinemann practitioners too. As long as we reach the preliminary finals, the dojo's reputation won't suffer at all. If anything, it'll just prove to everyone that he was an exceptional incompetent who didn't belong."
A handsome blonde boy spoke up to advise Assistant Instructor Shiga, and the other disciples chimed in with their agreement.
Come to think of it, the very first people to turn their backs on me the moment they learned my Gift was deemed useless were this assistant instructor, Shiga, and this blonde boy, Riku. Well, to the present me, none of that mattered in the slightest.
"True enough, Riku. With your skill, advancing to the preliminary finals should be a breeze."
Assistant Instructor Shiga nodded a few times as he looked at Riku, then turned back to me.
"Listen well! Make sure you don't go throwing the Heinemann name around!"
Spitting out that parting shot, he turned and strode away.
Well, the trivial rabble had moved on. Time to head back to the inn. Just as I took a step forward—
"Oho."
A prickling sensation still scraped against my skin. Bloodlust? It was about on par with the monsters prowling the very top floor of that weakest dungeon. In other words, to me, it was nothing more than a gentle breeze.
"You're strong, aren't you?"
The man radiating the intent walked over and looked down at me.
He possessed a brawny, two-meter-tall frame and a wild, untamed appearance. Heavy calluses coated his knuckles, and his hands resembled rugged slabs of stone. He was clearly the type of martial artist who pushed his physical body to its absolute limits.
"Think so?"
I had experienced this brand of intimidation countless times in the dungeon.
In particular, the floor boss of the 600th floor—the beastman Nemea, who called himself the Divine Beast King—had been just as belligerent when we first met.
"What's your name?"
"Kai Heinemann."
"I'm Zack. Group B. What about you?"
Group B? Ah, he meant the preliminary tournament brackets. Looking at the back of the iron entry plate, the letter "D" was engraved into the metal.
"It appears I am in Group D."
"Is that so? Then I'll see you in the championship tournament."
He cracked his fists together, flashing a wicked grin. Hmm, an absolute confidence in his own martial prowess paired with the demeanor of a total battle maniac—he really was the spitting image of how Nemea used to be. The two of them might actually get along.
"Let's hope it turns out that way for both of us."
"It will. For guys like us, anyway."
Raising a single fist in farewell, Zack melted into the crowd.
Shrugging my shoulders, I finally set off toward the inn where we were supposed to meet.