Three men who fancied themselves swordsmen surrounded me. Apparently, they thought that with my incompetent Gift, I would be an easy target.
In short, their logic came down to pocketing a little extra cash while clearing out the weak deadweight first. A simple, predictable turn of events.
I stood at the absolute edge of the martial ring, with only the drop outside behind me. From this spot, I could secure a win without drawing unwanted attention.
"Kieeehh!!"
A short-haired man charged, letting out a bizarre battle cry. As his wooden sword came down in an overhead strike, I deflected the weapon with my right hand while sweeping his legs out from under him, sending him tumbling out of the ring. And that was one down.
"Kaaahh!!"
A long-haired man unleashed a horizontal slash with his wooden sword. Parrying the strike downward with the heel of my right foot, I stepped forward into his guard and slipped beneath his reach. A firm push against the back of his head with my right hand sent him over the edge.
"Whoa?!"
With a comical yelp, the long-haired man dove straight out of bounds.
"D-Damn it!"
The last of the three, a black-haired giant standing roughly 1.9 mel tall, lunged with a thrust accompanied by another shout.
Did these people suffer from some affliction where they couldn't attack without screaming their heads off?
Sidestepping the thrust, I pushed his body along with his forward momentum without missing a beat. Just as expected, the hulking man let out a shriek of his own as he plummeted out of the ring.
"How dare you, you worthless hack?!"
Infuriated by the sight, one of the remaining contestants shouted, prompting several others to surround me once more, wooden swords and staves raised in unison.
Amidst them, Riku shoved his way through the circle and stepped forward.
"You coward! To call yourself a swordsman yet refuse to even cross blades, doing nothing but exploiting your opponents' momentum to throw them out of the ring—just how underhanded can you get?!"
He pointed his wooden sword at me, shouting at the top of his lungs. Cries of support echoed from the stands in response to his outcry. He was probably just trying to make a name for himself at my expense.
Even so, Riku was laughably green. He was barely distinguishable from an amateur. If this was the state of the Heinemann style, was it really going to survive?
"Idiots! Did you see how he moved just now and not realize a damn thing?!"
His cheek twitching, Bly held his wooden sword at the ready in the distance. Sigma, too, remained vigilant, leveling the staff in his right hand toward me.
Puzzled by the extreme caution Bly and Sigma displayed toward me, the other contestants traded glances and cautiously backed away.
"You filthy, useless coward! I'll beat that thoroughly rotten attitude right out of you!"
As Riku bellowed valiantly, the stands grew even louder, until the crowd finally erupted into synchronized chants of his name.
Riku truly had a talent for rabble-rousing. That was one skill I certainly lacked.
However, this was neither a cult leader's ceremony for brainwashing his flock, nor the plaza before the royal palace where a king addressed his subjects. This was a match, a stage meant for blade to clash against blade.
Perhaps it was the responsibility of an elder who had lived far too long to cure the youth of their painful delusions.
"Weren't you told just a moment ago? Once we pick up a sword, we are swordsmen. Let your blade speak, not your mouth."
"That's exactly what I'm calling impudent, you useless apostate!!"
Closing the distance in an utterly clumsy charge, Riku brought his wooden sword down toward the crown of my head. Grabbing the sluggish, uninspired strike out of the air with my left hand, I ripped the wooden sword from his grasp.
"What?! G-Give that back!"
As Riku threw a right punch, I caught his fist with my right hand, twisted his arm upward, and drove a knee into his midsection all in the same breath.
Riku dropped to his knees on the stone floor, retching and groaning in agony.
Grabbing him by the collar with my right hand, I hauled him close and whispered into his ear.
"Listen to me. I'll say it once more. Once we hold a sword, we are swordsmen. And this is a tool crafted to kill and maim, not a plaything for children. If your resolve is half-hearted, you'd best not pick one up at all."
With that whisper, I released his collar and tossed the wooden sword in my left hand onto him.
Amidst the unnatural silence that gripped the arena, I hooked my right foot under an abandoned wooden sword lying on the ground, flicked it up into my grasp, and spoke.
"I've changed my mind. I'll show you all what real combat looks like."
With that, I began walking toward the contestants.