The Magias Magic Academy rookie tournament.
It was a combat tournament held only in the years when new students enrolled at Magias. The victor received prize money under the guise of special research funds, and their name would become legendary among the citizens of the royal capital.
On this day alone, parts of the Magias grounds were opened to the public, drawing a massive crowd of spectators. The stands specially constructed around the central training ground were already beginning to fill up, and even though the opening bell had yet to chime, the arena was already charged with the fervent energy of a festival.
"Word is Meltzelia's up in the first match."
"The Sword Saint's daughter? Right out of the gate?"
The audience's attention converged on that single detail.
Mercedes Meltzelia. The eldest daughter of the prestigious Meltzelia house, a magic swordsman rumored to be in a league of her own even among the prodigies of the Imperial Archmage Faculty.
Rumors of the Sword Saint's daughter, whose family had deep roots in the kingdom's west, had long since echoed even to the distant royal capital. Despite her youth, she had attained the middle transmission of the Hinoe Ittou-ryu, and her sword craft was said to already outclass the kingdom's regular army soldiers.
Even setting that aside, this year's Imperial Archmage Faculty was brimming with top-tier talent.
Though a few had opted out, the number of entrants from the Imperial Archmage Faculty was still higher than usual. It was obvious to everyone that this would be a tournament worth watching.
Amidst the bustling throng, a lone man blended into the crowd.
Holding a map of the grounds in hand, he walked at an unhurried, leisurely pace.
His appearance was entirely unremarkable. A grayish cloak, an unassuming face, and an ordinary build. If there was one thing that set him apart, it was his eyes.
Dark, murky pupils scanned the venue quietly, meticulously, as if licking over every detail.
◇
In stark contrast to the fervor in the stands, the center of the arena was dead silent.
The referee took his assigned position, drawing every spectator's gaze to a single point.
Match 1 was Mercedes versus Brendan.
Right from the opening bout, it was a marquee matchup between classmates of the Imperial Archmage Faculty.
"Both combatants, step forward."
Following the referee's command, Mercedes slowly closed the distance.
Stopping just before the starting line, she fixed her gaze squarely on Brendan, who stood opposite her.
His only weapon was a single short sword at his hip.
If she recalled correctly, that was the magic sword he had used during their extracurricular lesson.
Did he intend to face Mercedes with a weapon whose tricks had already been laid bare, or was there something more to it?
"I will at least commend you for not running away."
It was after that whole ordeal, after all. Had he been a coward, it would not have been surprising if he had withdrawn his entry form.
Brendan neither retorted nor averted his gaze, merely staring straight back at Mercedes.
That silence was somehow heavier than any words.
"Bren-kun, you can do it~!"
"Don't let your guard down, Bren!"
"Do your best, both of you~!"
The cheers of their classmates drifted down from the stands. No, that wasn't right. Those were Brendan's classmates.
What did they hope to accomplish by cheering for him?
Even if he were to win here, they might end up facing him later in the tournament. Mercedes simply could not fathom their mindset.
Of course, the idea of him defeating Mercedes was an absolute impossibility to begin with.
"Begin!"
The instant the word left the referee's mouth, Mercedes kicked off the ground.
Her step was minimal. Shaving away all wasted motion, she etched out the swiftest first stride she could muster. To the watching crowd, the distance between the two of them shrank in a blur.
Brendan's reaction was unexpectedly sharp.
Taking a half-step to the right, he lowered his center of gravity, shifting his axis to slip away from the trajectory of Mercedes's blade. It was a simple evasion, yet executed with zero waste.
Brendan retreated. For every inch of distance he yielded, Mercedes drove forward in pursuit.
Mercedes's footwork and spatial awareness were nothing short of exquisite.
No matter how much he maneuvered, she would never let him slip from her lethal range.
The enemy's—Brendan's—neck was constantly positioned right where her blade could deliver its maximum force.
Mercedes unleashed a diagonal downward slash.
Yet it was deflected by the tip of his short sword, reacting in an instant.
Harnessing the redirected momentum, she chained seamlessly into an upward reverse slash.
However, as if anticipating the strike, he batted her sword away, denying its path.
At that moment, the tip of Brendan's descending short sword bent unnaturally. Flexing like a tentacle, it lashed out sharply toward Mercedes.
"——!"
Mercedes jerked her head aside, narrowly evading the magic sword's strike.
Seizing that split-second opening, Brendan leaped back, putting significant distance between them.
The lightning-fast exchange, erupting so early in the match, sent a wave of excitement through the crowd that shattered all expectations. Even those who had come solely to see Mercedes realized from that clash that the boy facing her was no ordinary opponent.
That single exchange of blows had revealed a wealth of information.
"..."
Ignoring the roaring crowd, Mercedes carefully gauged Brendan's true caliber.
It was precisely in one's opening moves that the purest essence of their skill came to light.
His movements were clearly forged through intense combat experience. It was obvious that something rooted far deeper than standard sword forms was anchoring him.
At the very least, an ordinary boastful swordsman would have fallen to her very first blow. Judging from his performance during the extracurricular lesson, his magic coefficient was likely substantial as well.
Mercedes settled into a middle stance, leveling the tip of her long sword, and went completely still.
Responding in kind, Brendan raised his short sword as well.
The flawlessly polished blade of his short sword mirrored Mercedes's face with crystal clarity. Only then did she notice her own freezing, expressionless visage.
Far removed from the elegant persona Mercedes always maintained, the reflection revealed a mere girl unable to conceal the turmoil churning in her gut.
It was that magic sword. That magic sword was driving Mercedes mad.
The Walker magic sword she had yearned for so desperately was now nothing but detestable.
She would break it after all.
There was no other choice.
If she broke that blade, she would take another step forward, drawing closer to the realm of the Sword Saint.
"Walker. Do you remember what I told you the other day?"
Her voice was low, flat, and chillingly calm.
Perhaps this was who Mercedes Meltzelia truly was.
"I will break it on the next strike."
◇
Today was a festival.
She didn't really understand what kind of festival it was, but with so many people gathered, it felt exciting.
Her usually strict papa was completely gentle today.
The candy he had bought for her from a stall was shaped more prettily than anything she had ever seen, and her joy naturally made her break into a run.
For a young child to wander away from their parents' sight like this was by no means an uncommon story. The bustling noise of a festival could easily disorient anyone—all the more so during the royal capital's famous Magias rookie tournament.
It would be a little while longer before the girl realized her parents were frantically searching for her. After all, her little adventure had only just begun.
"Little lady."
It was a gentle, smiling voice.
An ordinary, friendly tone that blended right into the venue's clamor called out, stopping the girl in her tracks.
"Do you have a moment?"
A man was standing there. He had long black hair and wore round glasses. Looking to be about the same age as her father, he wore a soft smile.
"Could you hand this to that person over there? It's something they dropped."
What he offered her was a sphere.
A small black orb, sized to fit snugly in a young girl's palm.
She casually looked in the direction the man pointed.
"Everyone~! Match 1 of the rookie tournament is underway right now~! Give lots and lots of cheers for the freshmen's awesome performance~☆"
Walking along the edge of the venue was a young female teacher.
Her brightly colored hair made her easy to spot even through the thick crowd.
Even a young child understood what returning a lost item meant.
It meant someone was in trouble.
And her parents had always taught her to help people who were in trouble.
"Okay, sure!"
The girl gave a polite nod, took the sphere, and dashed off.
The man watched her small back recede, then quietly turned on his heel.
◇
"Big sis!"
Hearing the adorable voice call out, Yuriha immediately crouched down to meet the girl at eye level.
"What's the matter, sweetie?"
First, a gentle response.
Was she lost?
The entire reason Yuriha had been diligently patrolling the grounds was for moments like this.
Security for the rookie tournament was outsourced to affiliated guilds, but the key checkpoints were divided among the Magias faculty. Looking out for suspicious individuals, helping lost children—Yuriha was in charge of the classroom building.
"Someone dropped this. A mister over there asked me to give it to you, big sis."
"A lost item? Thank you~! You're such a good girl! By the way, which mister was it?"
"Um, over that way."
She pointed into the distance.
Before Yuriha's gaze could follow the tiny finger, she caught sight of the pitch-black sphere resting in the little girl's palm.
It was no toy.
A faint ripple of magical power emanated from within.
The moment she realized what it was, goosebumps erupted across Yuriha's skin.
"——"
Snatching the sphere away in a flash, she shoved the child's small body away to put distance between them.
Instantly wrapping the sphere in a barrier, she pulled it tight against her stomach.
That was all she had time to manage.
"Everyone, ru——"
Thud.
A heavy, muffled explosion resonated with a dull thud.
At the exact moment the little girl tumbled onto her backside, Yuriha folded over and collapsed toward the floor.
"Huh?"
The woman who had just been speaking to her was suddenly lying on the ground, shrouded in black smoke. Someone let out a piercing scream, and the surrounding crowd scattered in terror.
"...Big sis?"
"..."
"Big... sis?"
"Just kidding~☆ Did I scare ya!?"
Yuriha sprang back to her feet, flashing a radiant, energetic smile.
"Big sis is totally, completely fine~☆ Gahack...! But it's a teeny bit dangerous around here, so let's head somewhere safe for now, okay!?"
The little girl nodded through her trembling tears and sprinted into the crowd.
After watching her escape to safety, Yuriha doubled over, coughing violently as blood sprayed from her lips.
Neither her body reinforcement nor a full deployment of the barrier had made it in time.
Fortunately, however, she had managed to keep collateral damage to absolute zero.
"Cough...!"
With this much internal damage, she needed to cast healing magic on herself immediately.
She wouldn't be able to move for a while.
Just as she was about to magically relay the incident to the other staff members, she caught what looked like a flash of light outside the window.
◇
The screams reached the arena as well.
The vast majority of the audience had no idea what had just transpired, but the black smoke rising from the classroom building was plain for all to see.
"Hold! Match suspended!"
The referee immediately called a halt to the bout, gesturing for Mercedes and Brendan to step back.
Chaos rippled through the stands like a tidal wave.
Some stood up to see what was happening, others froze in their seats, and panicked spectators rushed headlong for the exits. The uncontrollable surge of people swiftly transformed the festive heat of the venue into pure pandemonium.
"Everyone! Calm down! Do not panic!"
The voice attempting to quell the venue's disorder was amplified by magic.
"I will explain the situation! Please, listen to what I have to say first!"
A lone man stood in the spectator stands. An unassuming face framed by round glasses. A middle-aged man who looked like he could blend into any crowd.
It was no wonder the audience mistook him for security personnel and quieted down to listen. Given the sudden crisis and the timing, it was only natural to assume an official explanation was being delivered.
"...Who is that?"
Mercedes narrowed her eyes in suspicion.
It wasn't a security guard's uniform.
Nor was he a Magias staff member.
An unfamiliar man stood there before them.
"My name is Wilhelm! A patriot who grieves for the future of this nation, who has devoted the entirety of his research to the advancement of our state!"
Wilhelm?
Brendan repeated the name under his breath.
If he remembered correctly, that was the expelled student their homeroom teacher, Blanchard, had mentioned.
"Today, there is a matter I wish to convey to all of you. None other than the truth of what transpired between Magias and myself."
His voice was calm and measured. It was a natural, persuasive cadence, as though he were merely lecturing students in an auditorium.
"I was once a researcher affiliated with this academy. I state unequivocally that I dedicated my days and my very being toward fostering a society where each and every one of you could live in safety."
The staff members observing the situation from the main building furrowed their brows.
Though difficult to make out clearly from this distance, he was unmistakably a suspicious intruder.
Yet there was still no sign of security making a move to apprehend him.
No, more importantly, why had the alarm failed to sound after the earlier explosion? With the tournament underway, the academy's defense mechanisms should have been running at full capacity. Any anomaly should have triggered an immediate response.
Something was terribly wrong.
"And yet, one day! Magias suddenly framed me with groundless accusations and banished me from this academy! For no other reason than to monopolize the fruits of my research!"
Though virtually no one was listening in earnest, the man pressed on regardless.
"This false charge orchestrated by Magias was an overtly unlawful act, a crime that should never be forgiven. And yet, I harbor no hatred toward Magias! I desire no such ugly spiral of animosity!"
The man spat his words with dramatic flair.
It was a theatrical performance that would put professional actors to shame.
Or perhaps he was truly consumed by a sense of righteous indignation at this very moment.
"For both sides to reach a compromise, and to strive toward mutual understanding——is that not the sacred duty of truly wise human beings?"
Mercedes watched the man's melodramatic speech, thoroughly unsettled by the spectacle.
"Walker."
"I know."
She called out to the opponent she had been trading blows with moments earlier. He, too, understood Mercedes's intent. For now, they needed to focus on the same threat and remain entirely on guard.
"That is precisely why I extend my hand to Magias! To settle that sorrowful past and return to the days when we worked side by side!"
Just how many people in the arena actually understood a single word he was saying? It was no longer clear whom this message was intended for or what point it was meant to convey.
"What I am about to do may invite doubt from some. However, as fellow citizens of Gleefia, I believe you will surely understand."
Courteously, deeply, he bowed toward the venue.
With that, the man's speech finally came to an end.
"...What? What is he even talking about?"
The moment someone voiced that obvious question, an earth-shattering blast roared, far eclipsing the force of the earlier explosion.
"Huh?"
In a fraction of a second, the eyes of nearly every soul on the grounds snapped toward the source of the noise. The Central Tower, the proud symbol of Magias. Its midsection blew outward from within, spewing a violent, churning torrent of explosive flames.
"Aaaaggghhhhh——!!?"
As that scream rang out, another shriek layered over it, and the venue was instantly swallowed into a swirling vortex of pandemonium.
Only the man who had introduced himself as Wilhelm watched the destruction unfold, a thoroughly twisted smile carved across his face.