Lay Your Eyes on My True Powers!

It's a new day.

I sit in my reserved seat and sip my free coffee. Apparently,

nobody except Mitsugoshi has figured out how to make this stuff

yet. Hats off to them.

"Mmm."

I take mine with loads of milk and sugar, by the way.

I wasn't huge on the reserved seating at first, but now that I've

gotten used to it, it certainly has its perks. The friendly maids bring

me pretty much anything I ask for free of charge, and it makes me

feel kinda like a celebrity.

As I'm basking in the stadium's energy, Princess Iris makes her

appearance.

"Good morning."

"Morning."

"Is that coffee I see? It's been trendy lately. I enjoy the smell,

but the bitterness is a bit much for me…"

"You could always just make it into coffee milk with loads of

sugar."

"Coffee milk…?"

Iris calls over one of the maids and orders one. She really is a

woman of action.

"Oh, this is nice…"

"Right? It's like a magic trick you can use to make every cup of

coffee taste the same."

I follow her lead and order myself a fine banquet of toast and

eggs.

If only this world had social media. The only way to make this

meal better would be if I could upload a smug selfie with the

caption "Eating breakfast in the deluxe suite with royalty!"

I finish eating right as various socialites begin trickling in.

As the name would suggest, their advent brings with it the

beginning of the socializing. Being the lowly son of a baron, I am

completely left out of the conversation. It's fine, though—I'd just as

soon stay out. So please, Princess Iris, stop trying to be nice enough

to include me.

Things end up getting kind of awkward, but eventually, the

second round of the primaries gets underway.

The socialites take their seats, but right as things start settling

down, the door opens up.

I turn around and see a woman in a faded robe.

It conceals her face like it did before, but I can tell it's Beatrix.

She notices me and gives me a little wave, and I reply with a

nod and a smile. We meet again.

However, the rest of the socialites' gazes are cold.

I can practically hear them all thinking. Who is this woman

wearing a filthy robe? Remove her at once! The silence is stifling.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry, but you can't…" One of the maids calls out

to her but gets interrupted.

"It's fine. She's with me. Please come on in," beckons Iris as she

invites Beatrix in.

Beatrix comes and sits two seats down from me. Iris is between

us. Apparently, that was going to be Alexia's seat, if she was here.

"Princess Iris, who is she?"

"Beatrix the War Goddess."

Iris's answer sends a stir through the socialites.

"Is she really…?"

"She said she's the War Goddess…"

"The legendary swordmaster…"

Hey, this is cool! I wanna hear someone say That's the legendary

Shadow… at some point!

"It's been a while since you appeared in public."

"It has. I'm looking for someone." Beatrix nods as she answers

the socialite's question. "My niece. She looks just like me."

Making sure not to repeat the mistake she made with me, she

takes off her hood.

"Damn, you're fine…"

"Do any of you recognize my face? I heard this country had

sightings of an elf bearing my visage."

"In this country, huh…? If I saw an elf as fair as you, Beatrix,

I'd never forget it."

"Have any of you seen her?"

"Sorry…"

The socialites all shake their heads.

"I see…" Disappointed, she puts her hood back up.

Iris apologizes to her. "I'm so sorry. Everyone here is well

connected, so I thought you might have some luck asking them."

"It's fine. I'm an elf, so I have time."

"By the way, did you watch any of the Bushin Festival?"

"Not much."

"Oh. Well, based on what you've seen, did any of the

contestants catch your interest?"

"My interest… Hmm…" She glances around as she thinks.

"Cid."

She points at me.

"Um, Beatrix…?"

"Cid caught my interest. Someday, he'll be strong."

I instantly deny it. "Oh, no, I definitely won't."

I can feel everyone staring at me.

"That boy's going to become strong…?"

"It's true he was in the same class as me, but his fundamentals

were kinda…eh…"

"He is Claire's little brother, but he doesn't take to it the way

she does…"

Finally, Iris cuts through the strained atmosphere, and that's the

end of that. "If that's what you think, Beatrix, then I'm certain

you're right."

Still, though, the socialites eye Beatrix skeptically.

I can see them glancing at one another, as though asking

themselves, Is she the real deal…?

To them, she probably just looks like a dirty wanderer.

The way I see it, though, she carries herself naturally in the best

sense of the word.

Her form, her personality, her bearing, and her strength as a

whole are all so unembellished that nobody realizes her real power.

"Now, would you mind if I was forward enough to ask you to

point out anything interesting you notice during the matches?"

"Okay."

Thanks to Iris's deference, though, it starts to feel like Beatrix is

getting a bit of respect.

The air is still a little strained as the second round of the Bushin

Festival primaries begins.

When Perv walks into the deluxe suite, a figure in a gray robe turns

and stares at him.

The person's face is hidden beneath a hood, but given the build,

he can tell it's probably a woman. After looking at Perv, she turns

her gaze to King Oriana, who's standing beside him.

Her assessment is brief.

"It stinks."

"That's pretty rude, lady."

"Sorry."

Perv suppresses his beating heart as he glares at the woman.

He's using a highly addictive herb to make a puppet of King

Oriana. He has no complaints about the drug's effectiveness, but it

has the downside of causing its users to exude a characteristic

aroma.

However, he's masking the smell with perfume. There's no way

anyone has found him out.

"Perv, this is Beatrix the War Goddess."

"She's…"

Beatrix the War Goddess. Perv heard she'd made her way to the

capital, but here she is in the flesh.

She certainly doesn't look talented enough to merit the title of

War Goddess.

Her robe is faded, and her manners are nonexistent. After a

single word of apology, she's already back to watching the match.

But even though she doesn't look strong…if she's as talented as

the rumors say, there's a chance he just can't perceive her strength.

Given that Princess Iris acknowledges her as the real thing, he

should assume she's right.

He knows that the War Goddess's face looks reminiscent of the

great hero Olivier's. If he could just get a good look…

"It seems I was being quite offensive without realizing it."

"Me, too."

Perv and Beatrix both apologize, and things settle down a bit.

Now everyone will think Beatrix's verbal gaffe had been a reference

to Perv himself.

Perv desperately wants to get off the topic of the smell.

He never imagined Beatrix would show up at the Bushin

Festival, though.

And today of all days…

He quietly clicks his tongue.

"King Midgar, I trust you're well today?"

"Oh, very."

Perv changes his tone and offers salutations to King Midgar,

who's sitting atop a large throne placed among the deluxe suite's

seats.

After exchanging a set of standard greetings, King Oriana sits

down beside King Midgar. Perv takes the next seat down and turns

his attention to covering King Oriana's conversational back.

The king can answer simple questions, but anything more

complex will give him trouble. Perv has no choice but to guide the

conversation and prevent King Oriana from screwing up.

That said, everything has gone according to plan so far.

His primary objective is securing Rose.

During their last encounter, she was already starting to show

symptoms. Her blood would undoubtedly prove a valuable asset to

the Cult.

In order to ensure he gets her, he made a point of properly

incentivizing her.

Specifically, he threatened to have King Oriana kill King Midgar

if Rose doesn't show up at the Bushin Festival.

It was just a threat, of course, but Perv wouldn't particularly

mind following through with it.

King Midgar's death would incite a war, and the Oriana

Kingdom would be finished. However, they already had plans

underway to install a puppet leader in Midgar afterward. If all went

well, everything would fall into his lap. There was a risk of abject

failure, sure, but the potential rewards were worth it.

The only thing that made him feel uneasy was the fact that Iris

was there. Perv could see she distrusted the hollow King Oriana.

There was a chance she'd be able to stop him.

However, he could easily remove that threat by simply

conducting the assassination during Iris's match. There shouldn't

have been any additional impediments.

But now Beatrix is here. Getting rid of her will be tough, and

she's probably even stronger than Iris. If Beatrix tries to stop him,

she'll be a greater obstacle than Iris.

Also, he still doesn't know what Mundane is after. Mundane is

undoubtedly a denizen of the underworld, meaning he must have

some objective. No matter how hard Perv searches, though, he

keeps coming up blank. This guy's a pro. Perv needs to be on high

alert.

He lets out a heavy sigh.

Everything's going according to plan, but there are too many

variables. He doesn't feel remotely at ease.

Still, if Rose just shows up, everything's golden. He won't need

to take any risks.

And she's sure to. She can't just abandon her homeland and her

father. Perv knows her well enough to be certain of that.

True, there are a bunch of variables, but none of them matter.

Everything's going to be fine.

Perv keeps telling himself that as he shifts his focus to the

match.

Time passes, and Claire Kagenou wins her bout handily.

"Oh-ho…"

He hadn't taken much notice of her before, but it turns out she's

unexpectedly skilled. Her magic is powerful, yet she doesn't let it

control her.

As strong as she is now, she has the potential to become even

stronger.

"It would seem…that Claire's gotten better." After watching

Claire take down her opponent, Iris stands from her seat. "My

match is starting, so I'm afraid I must be off."

Everyone around her offers words of encouragement, and the

dark-haired boy sitting next to her stands as well.

"I gotta hit the can."

Nobody much cares about his comings and goings. Well,

nobody except Beatrix, who watches as he leaves.

His name is Cid, and he's utterly unremarkable. Perv was a

little curious how he ended up sitting next to the princess, but other

than that, he doesn't see much reason to care. He immediately

forgets about Cid and turns his attention to the next round.

Iris and Mundane's bout is a very important one for Perv.

He needs to figure out Mundane's strength and agenda as well

as take advantage of the opportunity Iris's absence poses.

After the two of them leave, a little time passes…and Iris and

Mundane take the stage.

When Iris arrives on the field, she's greeted with a thunderous

round of applause.

Her popularity makes it abundantly clear which one of the pair

is the tournament's protagonist.

She stares at Mundane and composes herself.

Mundane Mann is obviously going to be a fierce opponent.

Even now that she's standing across from him, she can't get a read

on his strength but senses something unfathomable lurking within

him. His appearance is out of sync with his actual ability. It makes

him seem irregular, like he's hiding his true nature.

However, Iris still is confident she can prevail. She has no other

choice.

She believes it's her duty to win the Bushin Festival.

She isn't skilled at politics, and she herself knows that. The only

thing she can do for Midgar is act as a symbol of its strength.

It's her duty to instill faith in people that as long as Iris Midgar

is around, the kingdom will be safe.

Even if that means letting herself be carried on the shoulders of

others. She's at peace with that. Her strength is her only asset, and

she was content letting herself be used as a political pawn.

Until recently, that is.

That was a price she paid for being carried by others for so

long: She stumbled the first time she tried to stand on her own two

feet. Fearing for her country's future, she'd tried to assemble the

Crimson Order but found herself powerless, unable to secure

personnel or funds.

If she tried gathering members gradually, it would take ages

before the Crimson Order lived up to her expectations.

Even if she attempted to involve herself in politics, people

would still just treat her with superficial respect while using her for

their own ends. That's why she's opted to leave the politics to

others and gather strength in areas in which she's more skilled.

For example, she knows that popularity among the masses is a

strength in and of itself. She's also gathered allies she trusts to be

the brains behind her Order. All that's left to do is win the Bushin

Festival and solidify the people's love for her, and she's sure things

will turn out well.

With that belief firm in her heart, she readies her sword and

waits for the announcer.

Her condolences to Mundane, but she plans on going all out

from the get-go. Even if he does have something up his sleeve, she

intends to end the match before he has time to pull it out.

"Iris Midgar versus Mundane Mann!! Ready? Begin!!"

She wastes no time.

As soon as the match starts, she steps forward, then stops.

"…What?"

A tiny cry of confusion slips from her lips.

For some reason, Mundane seems farther away than he did

before.

Has she misjudged the distance between them?

That's her first thought, but she knows she didn't. Still, it feels

like the gap between them has widened.

She doesn't know why. Maybe it's just nerves.

Whatever the cause of her confusion, though, it definitely stops

her.

She tries starting over.

She resets her emotions, readies her sword, and goes for a

simple feint.

When she's sure she's drawn Mundane's gaze, she rushes him.

However…

"…?!"

Once again, she stops in her tracks.

She leans backward as though dodging something, then leaps

back.

She had seen a sword.

She had seen Mundane's sword severing her neck.

However, Mundane's actual sword hadn't moved an inch.

And of course, her neck was still attached to her shoulders.

"Why…?" Iris can't keep the question inside.

She's sure she saw Mundane's blade.

The moment she advanced, she saw his sword and the colossal

power lurking within it cutting her throat.

She thought he'd read her like a book. And she'd seen her own

defeat…no, her death.

However, Mundane is still just standing there. His sword isn't

even at the ready. It's as though it had all been just an illusion.

She can't comprehend what just happened.

Iris slowly paces around him, trying to figure out what's up

with his sword.

One lap, two laps, three laps…

They're the exact same distance from each other as before. So

why does Mundane look so far away?

"…Aren't you coming?" Mundane asks.

Yet she can't take that step.

Every bone in her body is screaming for her not to go.

"Hrrraaaaahhhhhhh!!"

She roars in an attempt to dispel her hesitation.

After rocking back and forth, she puts one foot forward. It's the

fastest step she's ever taken.

But—he's looking at her!!

Unblinking, Mundane's eyes are trained on her.

His gaze shifts, as though implying something.

"…Aahhhhhhh!!"

The moment it does, Iris's instincts force her to stop.

Doing so places a massive strain on her body, and her knee

joints make an unpleasant noise.

She stops in spite of that, then practically tumbles backward.

She's certain she just saw Mundane's sword running her

through.

"No…"

However, her chest doesn't have a scratch.

There's no sign Mundane's weapon ever moved.

"You're kidding…"

He's still just standing there, not even bothering to put up a

defense.

"…What's wrong?" he asks.

Faced with something unknowable, Iris's body shudders.

She has to do something.

Unease and fear swirl up inside her.

Mundane's gaze shifts again.

As he stares straight ahead, the tip of his sword twitches as

though he's predicting the future.

The moment it does, Iris envisions her arm getting lopped off.

"Oh no…"

Now she finally realizes.

Mundane had simply been making feints.

He understood her movements in their entirety, then used his

eyes and minute movements of the tip of his sword to send her a

warning.

If you don't stop, you'll get cut, he'd been telling her.

That had been enough to make her hallucinate.

That's how real the illusion had been.

Iris recalls something her mentor once taught her: "An expert's

'lies' seem all too real." And sure enough, she'd fallen for her

mentor's feints time and time again.

Mundane's moves felt even realer than her mentor's.

Was that even possible?

Iris isn't conceited enough to think she's the strongest person in

the world. She understands that greatness is relative. Objectively

speaking, though, she's supposed to be one of the best dark knights

alive.

To be able to drive a woman like her into a corner with feints

alone?

That would make Mundane, without a doubt, the world's

strongest fighter.

It would represent a degree of skill no one could hope to match.

Was that really possible?

Like hell it was.

Iris forces herself to believe that.

Don't get rattled.

He hasn't even raised his sword yet. Don't go deciding the match on

mere speculation.

"…Don't stop me," Iris quietly instructs her instincts.

After steeling her resolve not to stop, she takes that one step

forward.

Something whizzes through the air.

A second passes.

Then, a fierce impact rocks Iris's body.

Her mind goes blank for a few seconds, and before she knows

it, she's looking up at the sky.

She's collapsed faceup in the dead center of the arena.

What happened?

She had been unable to see Mundane's blade, but he'd caught

her in his gaze the moment the impact landed.

It's a miracle she's still holding on to her sword.

She forces her unresponsive torso to rise.

"Iris Midgar…I expected more from you."

She finds a sword being thrust into her face.

Mundane is looking down at her. She can't detect any emotion

in his eyes.

They're close enough that she could reach out and touch him,

yet he seems impossibly far away.

Far, far away…

Ah…so that's what it is.

Iris finally understands.

The reason he looks so far away isn't because of an illusion or a

hallucination.

From the very start, he's been looking down on her from the

pinnacle of heights. Even if she extends her entire hand, he's

standing eternally beyond her reach…

Iris's sword falls from her grip and topples to the ground with a

clang.

The noise echoes throughout the silent stadium.

Iris Midgar is defeated in a single blow.

The fact of it has everyone frozen in shock.

Not a sound can be heard.

That is, until the click, click, click of footsteps rings out from

behind her.

The stadium begins to stir.

The footsteps continue forward. Click, click, click. Then, they

come to a stop.

The audience's eyes are glued to the person walking.

Even Mundane looks a little surprised.

"Father, I've returned."

There stands the Oriana Kingdom's beautiful princess, Rose

Oriana.

Rose doesn't spare a glance for Iris and Mundane. Her honeycolored eyes are glued to the deluxe suite.

The legendary Iris Midgar was beaten by a single sword stroke.

That simple fact stupefies Perv.

He knows members of the underworld more skilled than her,

but could even the strongest dark knight with whom he is familiar

really bring Iris Midgar down in a single swing?

No.

Unless they caught her by surprise or got incredibly lucky, there

was no way.

In other words, something unthinkable just happened.

Because Mundane took out Iris with one attack, it means he's

the strongest dark knight Perv knows of.

But he's practically a child…!

Nothing wounds Perv's pride as much as getting overtaken by

someone he considered below him.

The astonishment in his heart is quickly painted over with fiery

envy.

His brain races to reject Mundane.

Mundane's one-hit takedown of Iris must have been dumb luck.

Even if it wasn't, it probably has to do with their compatibility in

combat. Iris just happened to be a good match for Mundane, that's

all.

Iris's strange behavior gives him cause for doubt, too. She

stopped all of a sudden as though wary of something, and she paced

around Mundane for seemingly no reason. Perhaps she's been under

the weather, or maybe Mundane took advantage of some weakness.

There are plenty of ways he can deny Mundane's strength.

And yet…

Perv found Mundane's swordplay daunting.

He realizes that he and Mundane see the world through

different lenses.

Their assessment and approach to combat are fundamentally

different. Perv knows he could spend centuries training and never

be able to catch up with that boy. That's how polished Mundane's

swordplay is. It's like he's kneaded together the best parts of

countless other martial arts and refined them into a single,

incomparable masterpiece.

As Perv tries to disavow Mundane's mastery, his heart is filled

with the innocent admiration of a child.

Mundane's sword style has a devilish charm that draws Perv.

It's like how he was captivated by his instructor's sword work as a

boy.

He grinds his teeth.

He refuses to accept this.

He can't be sure this boy's skills reign supreme just yet.

Perv is no stranger to masters. However, he still hasn't met the

Cult's leadership.

Mundane can't possibly be the strongest.

"What did you think of the fight, Beatrix?" he asks, hoping to

hear her denounce him.

The blue eyes peeking out from within her robe are fixed on the

boy. The look in them…is one of wonder.

"…I want to fight him."

"What?"

Just as Perv is about to ask for clarification, though, a stir runs

through the crowd.

He turns to look at the arena, and there, he sees…

"Rose Oriana…"

His mouth curls up into a sneer.

She's come.

What a stupid girl. The king and kingdom are beyond saving.

The puppet king is no more than a shell, and thanks to that, they

control the country's leader. Showing up here without even

realizing that fact reveals a naïveté unbefitting a princess.

Covering his mouth so his twisted grin won't be noticed, Perv

steps forward with King Oriana in tow.

"My dear Princess Rose. I see you've decided to return."

There's a long staircase leading straight from the deluxe suite to

the arena. Perv and King Oriana start descending it.

"Rose, I'm so glad you're back. Come up here." On Perv's

instructions, King Oriana speaks. His words are hollow and lifeless.

As Perv descends, he issues orders to his men with a glance,

telling them to be ready to capture Rose.

The princess begins ascending.

"Father, I've come to apologize. For everything I've done and

for what I'm about to do… I've made many mistakes, and I'm sure

I'll make many more. But as the princess of Oriana, and as your

daughter…I'm walking down a path I believe in."

Rose's voice is trembling. Her eyes are moist with tears.

But they're still filled with resolve.

Seeing that, Perv takes a step back.

He should send in the king first.

If he uses the king as a shield, the girl will be powerless.

As long as he has his puppet king, his plan can succeed without

a hitch.

"I forgive you for your sins," replies King Oriana, but Perv

hadn't told him to say that.

"Thank you, Father."

Afterward, everything happens in a flash.

Rose draws her blade, and Perv reacts by hiding behind the

king.

His men make their move.

Rose is too fast for them, though.

Perv's eyes widen in shock.

"Wh—?!"

Abandoning everything, the girl stabs King Oriana through the

heart with her rapier.

"As the princess, and as your daughter…this will be my final

responsibility."

The king had been reaching out as though to embrace Rose, but

halfway through, his hand slumps lifelessly in the air. The rapier

passes cleanly through his heart and into Perv's chest.

"Thank you for everything."

She wrenches the rapier free.

Blood gushes from the king's heart as he topples to the ground.

Tears burst from Rose's eyes.

"H-how dare youuuu!!" Perv screeches.

Blood pours from Perv's chest, too, but his wound isn't lethal.

His rage stems from the loss of his puppet. His whole plan—in

ruins.

"Get herrrrrrrr!!"

His men charge at Rose.

She doesn't attempt to flee.

As Perv watches her place the tip of her rapier against her

throat, he smiles.

She won't really—

His face goes pale.

"No! No! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

But just as Rose is about to pierce her neck…

"—So that's the choice you've made."

A beautiful, almost artistic flash cleaves through the air, slicing

through both Rose's rapier and the swords of the men bearing down

on her.

Standing there is Mundane, the most unassuming of men.

"Y-you're…"

However, the sword he's holding is as black as night.