A Battle to Attract Only MVPs!

Publisher Note: Sorry if the layout is weird because That's the original layout on the book soo... bear it please!

The week ends, and the preliminaries for the Bushin Festival begin.

I'm currently watching the fights from the arena stands with

Skel. The sun is high in the sky, and attendance is sparse. Well,

that's just how these rounds are. In fact, the turnout is usually

worse.

Yesterday, I had my second round of prelims. They weren't held

in the arena, though, but in a nearby meadow. You heard that right

—the first and second prelim rounds take place in a grassy field

outside the capital. There aren't any spectators, and the quality of

competition is abysmal. I knock both of my opponents out with

lariats, but it doesn't bring me a shred of joy.

The third round is when we finally get to fight in the actual

arena. By this point, the quality of the fights is starting to barely

approach respectability. There aren't many people watching, but

honestly, it's a surprise that there are even as many as there are.

The Bushin Festival's main attraction isn't the primary rounds, after

all.

"By the way, what happened to Po?" I ask Skel. He seems to be

jotting down notes of some sort.

"He had to plow the fields back at his parents' place."

"Ah."

Skel continues fervently scribbling as he watches the fights. I

spot a necklace in the shape of a holy sword draped around his

neck. It's the souvenir I bought him back in the Sacred Land. I'm

glad he's actually wearing it, but it also makes me question his taste

in fashion.

"What do you have going on there?"

"Collecting data on the battles. Noobs gamble on the fights with

just their gut, but I'm different. I make my bets based on stats,

probabilities, and hard data."

"Huh."

I glance at Skel's notepad.

The first few entries I spot read "seems strong," "seems weak,"

and "hell if I know."

"You know, the trick to gambling is ending in the black," says

Skel boastfully. He keeps writing as he speaks.

"Who'da thunk?"

"See, when noobs gamble, they go ride or die on single fights.

But not me. I don't get attached to any one outcome. I count my

fights by the dozen—the more often I bet, the sooner the odds

converge."

"Uh-huh."

"After all, I'm a man who always ends in the black…"

I yawn. "That's crazy, dude."

"It sounds like you're talking about something interesting."

Suddenly, another man appears behind me.

"We are?" I ask.

"It certainly sounded that way." The man, a showy blond hunk,

grins.

"W-wait! I know you…!"

"You know this guy, Skel?"

"You're Goldy Gilded the Unbeaten Legend, right?!"

Goldy responds to Skel's glistening gaze by combing up his hair.

"That nickname is a little embarrassing. Call me Goldy Gilded the

Victorious Golden Dragon."

"O-of course! Goldy the Victorious Golden Dragon!"

I think Unbeaten Legend sounds cooler myself.

"So I see you're summing up data on the battles?"

"That's right!"

"That's some good thinking. I always make sure to do the

same."

"R-really?!"

"Of course. To make sure I always win."

"That's so badass! Do you have any cool stories you could tell

me?"

"Oh, one or two, I suppose."

I suspect it isn't gonna stop at just two.

My fight's coming up soon, so the timing is perfect.

"I gotta go take a dump."

"Hurry back so you don't miss anything."

I go to the toilet and don my disguise before heading to the

entrants' waiting room.

Skel is listening to Goldy Gilded the Victorious Golden Dragon's

theory on victory with rapt attention.

"For instance, I'll use this next fight as an example."

"Got it!"

The next challengers are being called to the arena.

"Round three, match twelve! Gonzales versus Mundane Mann!"

The two dark knights square off against each other.

"My theory holds that it's possible to figure out roughly how

strong each side is before the fight even starts. Let's start with

Gonzales. We can figure out his physical prowess by analyzing how

balanced his muscles are. Also, based on the glint in his eyes and

his arrogant disposition, he gives off an aura of a tough,

experienced fighter. His power level looks like it's around 1,364."

"P-power level?! What's that?!"

"By analyzing the battle data, it's possible to quantify

someone's combat capabilities—1,364 isn't bad."

"That's awesome!"

"As for his opponent, Mundane Mann…hmm."

Goldy Gilded the Victorious Golden Dragon casts a sharp stare

Mundane's way, then sinks into silence.

"Wh-what's the matter?"

"No…it's just that it's absurd. But…it's just so…"

"M-Mr. Goldy, sir?"

"Ah, forgive me. I lost myself a little there."

"Wait… Is Mundane really that…?"

"Yeah…that man, Mundane Mann…is unbelievably

incompetent!"

Goldy Gilded the Victorious Golden Dragon bursts into

laughter.

"Huh…? Incompetent?"

"It boggles the mind that he's made it as far as the third round!

An act of god, maybe?"

"H-he does look weak, I guess…"

"His face looks weak, his body looks weak—even his aura looks

weak! Mundane's power level is thirty-three! Ha! That's the lowest

I've ever seen for a dark knight!"

"So Gonzales is going to win?"

"Yeah, it's gonna be over in a heartbeat. Hell, the fight almost

isn't worth watching."

And with that, the round begins.

Gonzales is the first to act.

With surprising agility given his brawny build, he closes the gap

and bears down on Mundane.

His movements are far more refined than those showcased in

the other third-round matches. It appears Goldy's estimation of him

as a tough, experienced fighter was on the mark.

Mundane doesn't even react to Gonzales's slash.

Everyone is certain Mundane's defeat is imminent, but then…

Gonzales collapses.

Right before he reaches Mundane, he trips and tumbles down.

His head hits the ground, and he's out like a light.

The crowd goes silent. Surely, he's going to get up, they all think.

But Gonzales doesn't move a hair.

When Mundane sheathes his sword and turns around, the

verdict is finally called.

"Th-the winner is Mundane Mann!"

"Th-this is bullshit!!"

"We want our money back, jackass!!"

Boos pour from the crowd around Gonzales's unconscious body.

Unsure of how to react, Skel looks over at Goldy Gilded the

Victorious Golden Dragon.

"W-well, these things happen, too," says Goldy Gilded the

Victorious Golden Dragon. His cheek is twitching. "Battle data can

give us an idea of who will win, but when the chips are down,

nothing is ever certain. This was educational, I hope?"

"D-did you know this would happen…?"

"Heh…" Goldy Gilded the Victorious Golden Dragon doesn't

offer him a definitive answer. "Let me tell you a secret."

"Huh…?"

"There are two ways to win at betting. The first is figuring out

who's strong, then betting on them to win. The other is figuring out

who's weak, then betting on their opponents."

Goldy Gilded the Victorious Golden Dragon stands and turns to

leave.

"Tomorrow is the fourth round, and the sixth match is Goldy

Gilded the Victorious Golden Dragon versus Mundane Mann."

"Wait! That means…!"

Goldy Gilded the Victorious Golden Dragon whirls around and

points at Skel.

"Can you…find the winning line?"

Then, he combs back his sparkling blond hair and makes his

exit.

"He…he's so cool…"

Amazed, Skel watches Goldy Gilded the Victorious Golden

Dragon leave.

"I finished taking my dump."

A young, dark-haired man returns to his seat.

"Hey, Cid! There's a fight tomorrow with a guaranteed win.

Let's go all in!"

"What? No."

"C'mon! Just take my word for it!"

"Screw that."

"Tch, fine. Your loss, man!"

And with that, the two of them go back to watching the

matches.

The fourth round of the Bushin Festival has begun.

Annerose is sitting in the front row of the stands, waiting for a

certain match to start.

Her pale-blue hair sways in the breeze, and her identically

colored eyes are fixed on the arena. There are more spectators than

the previous day, but the arena isn't even half-full.

"You came to watch that guy's fight, too, lady?"

Annerose hears someone call out to her and turns around. "I

remember you. You're…"

"Quinton."

Quinton still looks like a pro-wrestling villain and plants

himself beside Annerose.

"You saw his third round yesterday, right, lady?"

"I did. I take it you did, too?"

"Not on purpose, but I happened to catch it. Whaddaya make of

Mundane Mann's round?" Quinton stretches his legs as he asks

Annerose the question.

"It certainly didn't look like he just lucked out and his opponent

tripped."

"Yeah. That guy did somethin'. I don't have a rat's ass of a clue

what it was but thought you might. You're Annerose, one of

Velgalta's Seven Blades, after all."

For a moment, Quinton's arrogant gaze meets the steely glint in

Annerose's eyes.

Annerose immediately looks away and crosses her legs. Her

white skin is exposed beneath the slits in her skirt.

"I gave up that title. Now I'm just Annerose."

"My bad. Oh, and I know I'm late, but congrats on passing the

Goddess's Trial."

"Thank you."

"So you couldn't tell what Mundane did?"

"I—I couldn't." Annerose sounds a little sullen. "I didn't think

there was a chance I'd miss it, so I let my guard down. But…it

looked like his right hand moved."

"His right hand, huh?"

"I don't know what he did with it. All I know is that whatever it

was, he did it incredibly quickly."

"Huh. I guess that makes my guess wrong." Quinton exhales

through his nose, annoyed.

"Your guess?

"I figured he'd used some kinda banned artifact or something."

"Interesting… We can't fully rule that out."

"Either way, we'll know after the match today."

"I suppose we will. His opponent is Goldy Gilded the Unbeaten

Legend."

"Never heard of the guy, but I guess he's supposed to be

famous. Apparently, he's never lost a match."

A wry smile crosses Annerose's face. "Famous, yes. For better or

for worse."

"He strong?"

"Interesting question… I've fought in a number of different

countries before, both actual battles and tournaments in arenas like

this. In my time competing in tournaments, I've been matched up

against Goldy Gilded three times."

"Ah. And if Goldy's never lost…I guess that means he beat

you."

Annerose glares at Quinton. "Don't be ridiculous. We never

actually fought. Whenever he's up against a strong foe, he simply

drops out."

"What? The hell's up with that?"

"He's a man who'll never fight an opponent if he thinks there's

a chance he'll lose. He only fights those he knows he can beat, then

withdraws once he has to contend with anyone stronger. That's why

they call him the Unbeaten Legend—nobody has a chance to defeat

him. I hear he doesn't like the name, so he's been calling himself

the Victorious Golden Dragon."

"Unbeaten and victorious, huh? They sound similar but mean

totally different things." Quinton laughs. "So you're saying we

shouldn't expect much from our friend the Unbeaten."

The corner of Annerose's mouth curls upward. "I wouldn't be so

certain."

"Whaddaya mean?"

"Even fighting those he's sure he can beat, the Unbeaten Legend

places highly in his tournaments. He's even won a few of the

smaller ones."

"Ah…so it's not like he's weak." Quinton's gaze intensifies.

"Exactly. Figuring out the difference in strength between

himself and his opponent is the man's forte. And he chose not to

run from Mundane. In other words…"

Quinton laughs violently. "Ah, it's all coming together."

"Not even the Unbeaten Legend could tell how strong Mundane

is."

"Either that or Mundane's just a coward who uses artifacts to

cheat."

"And to add another twist, the Unbeaten Legend has only ever

fought those he knows he can best. He's never shown off the true

extent of his strength."

"Damn, things are starting to sound interesting."

"That they are."

Quinton smiles a beastly grin, and Annerose licks her lips.

Then, they both turn their attention to the arena.

Cheers and jeers flood the stadium, and Mundane Mann and

Goldy Gilded stare each other down.

Of all the spectators in the stands, only two understand the true

significance of this fight.

"Round four, match six! Goldy Gilded versus Mundane Mann!

Ready? Begin!"

Goldy seizes the initiative.

The moment the match starts, he immediately closes the gap.

Then, he swings his excessively decorated greatsword straight

at Mundane's neck.

His target, Mundane, hasn't even drawn his weapon yet. He's

just standing there, not even reacting.

Goldy, certain of his victory, flashes his pearly whites.

A loud crack rings out.

"Huh?"

Goldy lets out a small exclamation of surprise. But he's not the

only one—nobody in the stands is ready to believe what they just

saw.

Goldy's sword passed clean through Mundane's neck,

connecting with air and air alone.

Goldy realizes his torso is wide open.

"Tch!"

His face twitches.

Offered that decisive window, Mundane finally moves.

And yet.

He merely draws his sword slowly from its sheath.

That's all.

His movements are sluggish, and he's completely overlooking

this nugget of opportunity. It doesn't seem like he's even noticed.

Goldy puts some space between them, then glares at Mundane

and spits out a few words. "You making fun of me?"

His annoyance is all too clear.

"Didja catch it?" Quinton asks Annerose over in the stands.

"Just barely." She continues staring at Mundane with the eyes

of a hawk.

"I knew ya were the real deal. I couldn't see shit. I thought the

Unbeaten Legend got Mundane's head good."

"Right. It wouldn't normally be possible to dodge the blow at

that point. But…before the sword hit him, Mundane cracked his

neck."

Annerose's voice is filled with unconcealed shock.

"He cracked his neck? I don't follow."

"All he did was crack his neck. You know, like this." Annerose

tilts her neck to the side and cracks her joints.

"Nah, hold up. That doesn't make any sense."

"I know. But the moment he tilted his neck, it made that

cracking sound, and Goldy's sword missed."

"You're yanking my chain here! He tilted his neck to crack it

and just so happened to dodge the attack?"

"I think that's what happened."

"You're full of it! There's no way a coincidence like that's

possible!!"

A serious look fills Annerose's eyes. "What if it wasn't a

coincidence?"

"What?"

"He cracked his neck so fast, even I would have missed it if I

hadn't been specifically watching him. A normal person can't do

that."

Common sense held that people couldn't crack their necks so

fast as to render the motion invisible to the eye.

"Gah! You're right…"

"It's possible that dodging the sword was just an afterthought to

him. Mundane started with a desire to crack his neck while the

attack happened to be coming his way, so in addition to cracking

his neck, he also dodged it."

"Bullshit! That right there, that's impossible! Goldy's swing was

fast! You're trying to say the kid dodged it as an afterthought?!"

"I'm only half-certain myself. Maybe it was all just a

coincidence. But if it wasn't…"

"…! There's no way I'm gonna believe that!"

Goldy glares at Mundane.

"You piss me off. Right there, you just missed a golden

opportunity. You had a real shot at beating me, a once-in-a-lifetime

chance, and you let it slip away like it was nothing. Meanwhile,

you're just standing there cool as a cucumber." Goldy grinds his

teeth. "You should be mad. You should be grieving. You should be

scratching and clawing to try and win. The fact that you aren't is

basically an act of blasphemy against me."

Mundane just listens to Goldy in silence.

"Did you not even notice what you just missed? If that's the

case, then I guess I can't blame you. That's power level thirty-three

for you."

Goldy tries and fails to stifle a laugh.

"But hell if I'm gonna let myself lose face to a nobody like you.

I'm gonna come at you with everything I've got. So don't come

complaining to me if you die. Capisce?"

Goldy readies his sword, then begins gathering magic in its

blade.

The air vibrates as the magic accumulates.

A murmur runs through the crowd.

"Here's a fact you can take with you to the grave: My power

level's four thousand three hundred."

And in one fluid motion, Goldy closes the distance between

them and strikes.

"Demonic Golden Dragon! Fatality Strike!!"

The wave of golden magic seems to take the form of a golden

dragon, devouring Mundane whole.

Or at least, it's supposed to.

Suddenly, an achoo! rings out, and the dragon vanishes.

"Blargh!!"

And as it does, Goldy gets sent spinning through the air.

The crowd stops murmuring.

Instead, they gape, dumbfounded, as Goldy crashes to the

ground and stops moving.

"Th-the winner is Mundane Mann!!"

As Mundane turns to leave, they're chanting his name in the

stands.

"That Goldy Gilded guy wasn't no pushover…"

That's the first thing to leave Quinton's mouth post-match.

After hearing Annerose's description of the man, Quinton's

opinion of him had been low.

He hadn't expected Goldy to be capable of materializing his

magic to that extent.

That final attack of Goldy's had enough power that it wouldn't

have been surprising if he'd advanced to the finals.

"He was definitely more powerful than I thought. If he'd been

aiming for the top and actually took on stronger opponents, he

could've made an outstanding dark knight."

"So what'd Mundane do at the end there?"

Annerose crosses her arms, sighing. "If I'm not mistaken…he

sneezed."

"What?"

"The Golden Dragon must not have been too bright. When he

sneezed, he brought his sword down, and Goldy ran right into it."

"No, that doesn't make any sense. You're saying a sneeze beat a

dragon?"

"It certainly seems that way. Goldy said Mundane missed a

golden opportunity, but maybe Mundane didn't see it as one. He

could have taken Goldy down whenever he wanted. In other words,

he didn't need to seize every opening… Or maybe to Mundane,

Goldy was never not defenseless…?"

Just considering this sends shivers down Annerose's spine.

It's impossible.

At the end of the day, it is only a theory… She assumes she

must simply be wildly overthinking things.

"This is nonsense." Quinton scoffs, then aggressively abandons

his seat. "But hey, it was my bad for taking you seriously. I ain't

never gonna believe in that kid. Even if he keeps winning, he's

gonna run into me in the prelim finals. I'll show everyone what a

poser he really is."

Quinton casts one last glare at the Mundane-free arena, then

leaves.

Annerose, on the other hand, stays seated and recalls

Mundane's movements.

"Would I be able to pull off the same moves…?"

Still sitting, she cracks her neck and sneezes.

She tries it again and again, each time faster and with fewer

wasted movements.

Crack, achoo, crack-achoo-crack!

"A-achoo…"

Then, conscious of the strange looks she's getting from the

people around her, she goes bright red and flees.

The Unbeaten Legend has finally been broken.

News of his defeat spreads among the tournament fanatics like

wildfire.

Even though it's still just the prelims, Goldy the Unbeaten

Legend is a dark knight to whom people pay attention. They are

astonished to hear he's lost to some nobody named Mundane, but

their shock dwindles when they are told how the fight went down.

Oh, sounds like he just won by some fluke.

That is more or less how most of the fanatics see it.

However, a few of them—along with some of the people who

have actually been watching the match—have doubts about how

Mundane is being assessed.

Because of that, they decide to attend Mundane's matches and

judge his strength firsthand.

"What's this?! Quinton is down!! And he's not getting back up!!

Mundane wins another match with a single blow!!"

The B-Block finals for the preliminary rounds end with

Mundane's victory.

Another one-hit win.

The fanatics can't figure out what to make of him. That day's

victory qualifies him for the primary rounds, but nobody is quite

sure how he's actually done it.

There's no way he could have won so many times off pure luck,

so he has to have at least some skill.

In fact, his opponent in the prelim finals, Quinton, was a dark

knight held in high estimation by the enthusiastic crowd. The fact

that Quinton lost to Mundane without being able to put up a fight

leaves the fanatics with little choice but to acknowledge Mundane's

strength.

However, because they can't figure out how he won, they can't

really pin down his true strength.

He's probably stronger than Quinton, but is he really fit to

stand atop the main stage?

He might be strong, but can he really stack up against the

historic winners of the Bushin Festival?

Arguments on the topic are heated.

In the end, most people decide he's probably on the weaker end

among the combatants scheduled to appear in the primaries.

Considering his lack of history, that's to be expected.

Everyone else has earned his or her reputation in tournaments

or on the battlefield, but Mundane has no notches in his belt to

compare against theirs.

Objectively speaking, Mundane has nothing that proves his

worth.

So, of course, expectations for him are low.

Still, a couple of the fanatics think he's a dark horse.

Given the list of contestants this time around, it's pretty much a

guarantee that Iris is going to take the Bushin Festival this year, but

if anyone can upset her…it's probably the miracle boy whose

strength is yet unknown.

Such are the expectations being foisted upon Mundane as he

leaves the arena.

The primaries start the following week.

Round one is Mundane Mann versus Annerose.

Ninety percent of people expect Annerose to take the match.

As I leave the stage, I think how the older guy I fought today

seemed oddly feisty. His name was Qui…something or other. I

could literally feel the hostility emanating from him. It was kinda

invigorating.

Now I've qualified for the primary rounds that start next week.

The crowd's been pretty unimpressed with me so far, but next

week is when I'm gonna show off my true strength, so I need to run

through some scenarios in the interim.

As I walk down the long hallway to the players' entrance and

think about my regimen for the coming week, a woman with paleblue hair steps in front of me. I'm pretty sure she's named Annerose.

"Can I help you…?"

"I never imagined you'd make it to the primaries. Good work."

Her firm gaze bores into me.

"It was a foregone conclusion."

"Uh-huh. I see I misjudged your strength, but that's it. I have

one warning for you."

"Yeah…?"

"I've seen through your movements. Don't expect to be able to

beat me the same way." A confident smile crosses Annerose's face.

"Heh…"

The corner of my mouth curls upward, and I pass by her

indifferently, as though to say There's nothing more to discuss.

I scream internally. Please call after me!

"What's so funny?" Annerose glares at me.

You're the best!

I look back over my shoulder and cast a glance at her. "I've got

a warning for you, too…"

With that, I take off the wristband I've been wearing in the

hopes that something like this would happen. I toss it at Annerose's

feet.

Thud.

The band makes a hefty noise as it crashes to the floor.

"Th-those are… No way. You mean you had all these weights

on you when you were fighting…?!"

"These were the chains holding me back… But now, playtime is

over…"

Thud. Thud. Thud.

I remove the weights from my other wrist and both ankles, then

start walking off again.

"Wh—…? W-wait!"

This time, I don't stop.

"Wait, I said!"

Annerose frantically rushes in front of me.

"Don't think this means you've won. See, look…"

She cracks her neck.

And for whatever reason, she does it super-fast.

"I can do this, too, you know…"

"…I see."

Not at all following, I pass by Annerose and her triumphant

expression.

I wonder what she was trying to do just now.