5.2

Some ten minutes after that precariously sarcastic exchange, Subaru was standing atop tightly packed, sandy soil.

They'd moved from the waiting room of the castle to the knights' garrison adjacent to the castle. The tamped-down reddish training ground was ringed by stout walls that gave off a strong sense of the place's history.

The area was perhaps half the size of a high school campus, providing plenty of space for running around and crossing swords.

Subaru tested his footing, then casually began stretching.

Reinhard, standing at the entrance of the parade grounds, tried to get Julius to relent. "Julius, you should stop this. It isn't like you." The expression on his face was not one of haste or anger, but pure concern for Subaru's well-being. He continued, "I accept it was a petty thing for him to say, but it was nothing that couldn't be settled by a retraction. Normally, you would judge as much yourself, no?"

"That is precisely so, my good Reinhard. Normally, I would."

Julius was removing the ceremonial decorations from his Knights of the Royal Guard uniform one by one as he looked back at Reinhard, his eyes betraying no emotion.

"Had it not been this day, and had I met him in a different place, I might have simply let him be. However, it was not meant to be. My good name was sullied before those connected to the throne, and he spoke lightly of chivalry itself. Furthermore, he has not only failed to apologize but has heaped on additional insults."

Just like that, the faint murmurs that had filled the parade square fell silent.

"—I shall now chastise the base ruffian who has besmirched my knightly honor! Any objections?!"

"—!!"

Abruptly, a wordless typhoon roared through the air over the training grounds. The gathered knights and guardsmen shouted, their voices creating the gale. No doubt they saw things very simply: Julius was their representative against Subaru, the man who had disrespected them all.

Never in his life had Subaru stood before so many people directing such hostile emotions at him. He remarked, "Odds are about seven hundred to zero with no one betting on me. I'm so unpopular, I could cry…"

Truthfully, it chilled him to the bone; his body was filled with an overwhelming urge to fall to his knees. Yet, his heart was calm, and though his limbs felt heavy, they did not shake.

It was not that he had resigned himself to his fate. Subaru really didn't understand the mental state he was in when Julius spoke up again. "Now then, before we begin, I shall ask once more: Do you intend to apologize for your earlier impropriety and ask for forgiveness? If you make a full apology for your repeated transgressions here and now, I shall pardon you."

"Repeated transgressions, huh. I can't think of any… And apologize how?"

"Put your forehead to the ground with tears in your eyes. Or, if you find it more fitting, roll onto the ground and show me your belly to curry favor like the good lapdog you are."

"Neither choice is very elegant, so if you don't mind, I'll pass on both."

No doubt he'd never expected Subaru to accept. "I see," Julius murmured to himself curtly as he finally handed his knight's sword to one of his fellows standing beside him. He accepted a pair of wooden swords in its place.

"Properly speaking, it would not be strange for a man to cut you down for your foul tongue. However, you are Lady Emilia's vassal, whether she desires it or not. Accordingly, I shall face you using these wooden wasters."

Any objections? asked Julius's eyes. Subaru answered with a curt wave of his hand, signaling there was no problem. Concluding that his opponent had accepted from his gestures and expression, Julius nodded.

"The referee shall be—Ferris."

Julius glanced sideways at him, while Ferris casually lifted up his palm and waved back.

"Sure, suuure."

He'd easily accepted the role of referee. There was no way to know what he thought on the inside. Unlike Reinhard's hope to put a stop to this, Ferris seemed all too eager to get things under way.

"Have at it, you two. No matter what horrible wounds you suffer, Ferri can patch you up as long as you don't actually die, Subawu, so good luck!"

"Why say that to just me? Worry about the other guy, geez."

"Meow, what strong resolve! Hear that, everyone? All right, one, mew, three!"

Turning to the onlookers, Ferris raised both hands high and brought them down. At his signal, the parade square erupted in uproarious laughter, pouring scorn on Subaru's reckless words.

Bathed in laughter, Subaru stepped forward and turned to face Julius. When Julius offered him one of the practice weapons, he gripped the hilt firmly, as if he was used to it. Similarly, Julius gripped the other waster and announced the start of the mock duel.

"At least you are enthusiastic. Shall we begin?"

Subaru, his skin crackling with the electric energy of the audience, poised the wooden sword and pulled back, then twirled the waster in his hand around as he complained, "Ah, time-out. The feel of this doesn't seem right."

"Is that so? I do not think they differ much, but you may use this one if you prefer?"

"Sorry, sorry. I'm a child of the modern era, so I don't wanna use something that doesn't feel right."

As he spoke, he accepted the wooden sword Julius offered with one hand. In its place, he offered Julius the sword handed to him just earlier—

"Oops."

"—"

Subaru's hand let the wooden sword go a moment before Julius's fingers could take it. Naturally, gravity caused the waster to fall. Julius instantly bent forward as his hand chased after it. The knight, his body curved forward, had lost his height advantage over Subaru.

"…Hmph."

Subaru stepped forward and flipped the waster in his hand from down to up, aiming squarely at the tip of Julius's chin. Simultaneously, his left hand thrust straight forward, tossing the sand he'd covertly picked up during his warm-up exercises toward Julius's eyes—a classic blinding, two-step surprise attack.

—Got him now, thought Subaru, smiling with malicious satisfaction at his little trick. The next moment, he heard a voice right against his ear.

"It seems that you truly have no shame—It must make the vulgarity easy to come by."

Simultaneously, a blow struck Subaru. He felt a sharp, hard jab right to the solar plexus.

The shock to his torso shuddered through the rest of his body. He felt weightless; just after his feet left the ground, his face slammed hard into the earth. Sandy dirt smeared his face, mixed with vomit forced out by the blow to his solar plexus. Pain and heat struck his brain with equal force. The next moment, the parade square erupted in boisterous cheers at how Subaru, the fool who did not know his place, received what he deserved.

The boy curled into himself on the ground as the pain caught up, screaming into the sky above the parade square.

Higher, higher. Farther, farther.