Chapter 34. 17. Exceeding Expectations
"How is it? Quite impressive, wouldn't you say?"
"......Certainly so. Splendid."
Zenath's high knight, Sir Bucal, nodded his head.
He was a man of few words and unembellished speech by nature. His praise of 'splendid' was no mere flattery but genuine admiration.
He spoke with admiration in his voice.
"Neither would be lacking compared to Zenath's knight cadets. Particularly that blond boy—he's tempting enough to covet."
"Hahahaha, I'll grant any other request, but that one is impossible. Karl Krone is a child who will become Tarazan's finest knight in the future."
The Knight Department Head spoke without hiding his proud expression.
Surely a great nation like Zenath wouldn't try to poach talent from a small country. Considering diplomatic issues, such a thing would be impossible. Therefore, his words could be taken entirely as praise.
Good heavens, a high knight of Zenath praising their own cadets!
'Not just Karl Krone, but Theoro performed admirably as well!'
Karl Krone's fine display was to be expected. He was, by his own and others' acknowledgment, the Academy's strongest swordsman.
However, he never dreamed that even Theoro would demonstrate such skill. It seems he had an epiphany just before the Swordsmanship Tournament began.
This was a good thing. If the Academy's prestige rose through this event, the higher-ups' trust would deepen as well.
The Department Head, still wearing a smile, said to Sir Bucal:
"Perhaps not quite to this extent, but the next match should be worth watching as well."
"Is that so? Are there talents comparable to him?"
"Yes. There's a boy named Boomer Simpson whose skills are quite outstanding...... I think you can look forward to it."
"Understood. I shall keep an eye out."
Sir Bucal nodded, then turned his gaze toward the stage.
He didn't bother asking about the other one. If he hadn't mentioned them, the reason was obvious. It meant they weren't skilled enough to warrant his interest.
Of course, he wasn't disappointed. No, rather, he was satisfied.
Just having two was impressive enough, but to have yet another talent. It was unbelievable for an Academy of a small-to-medium nation.
Sir Bucal stretched his neck until it cracked, a faint smile forming on his lips.
It was a moment when the tedious schedule felt more interesting than anything else.
***
"Don't be too careless."
"Hm?"
Theoro's voice called out from behind Karl Krone, who was descending the stage first.
He glanced briefly at the empty air.
With the match concluded, the magical projection had been deactivated.
He asked his question with somewhat more ease.
"What are you saying now. You don't seriously think Boomer will beat me, do you?"
"Crazy? That guy's below me. In the past, now, and in the future."
"Then what?"
Karl Krone looked at Theoro with an expression that said he had no idea what he meant.
Seeing this, Theoro burst out laughing. Then he cast a glance toward the waiting area.
Karl Krone, following his gaze, wore an expression of disbelief. Laughing as if it was absurd, he said:
"You're joking, right?"
"It's not a joke."
"You mean to tell me you were talking about Rumian? Disappointing. Your skills have improved, but your eye for talent has gotten terrible."
"Right back at you. Your skills may be impressive, but your eyes are nothing special. Don't drop your guard, and don't be surprised in the finals. Take this to heart—don't underestimate Rumian."
"Hah......"
Karl Krone remained unconvinced. His expression said he found it laughable.
Theoro said nothing more and descended the stage before him. With a stoic face, he thought:
'What a pathetic sight I've become.'
It wasn't even his own skill, yet he was boasting using someone else's abilities. No, it certainly wasn't empty boasting, but the very fact that he had used another's strength to deliver this rebuke was gnawing at his pride.
But he wanted to see it even if it meant enduring that humiliation.
The sight of that bastard's nose being broken. The genius who had always insisted on first place being brought down by the perpetual last-place student.
Before sitting in the waiting area, Theoro examined Rumian's face once more.
Still wearing a grave expression. It seemed even that guy was shocked by Karl Krone's hidden abilities.
'It'll be fine. You can do it.'
Theoro had felt frustration with Rumian just as much as the helplessness he'd felt toward Karl Krone. It wouldn't be easy, but he believed there was at least a possibility that Rumian could win.
'But only this once. Next time......'
I'll crush them both with my own hands.
Theoro quietly steeled his resolve and closed his eyes.
Behind him, Boomer whispered quietly to Rumian.
"Rumian, Rumian."
"Ugh, what."
"You remember, right? Go easy on me. Just give me enough time to show what I can do. Got it?"
"How many times do I have to say I got it, man."
At Rumian's prickly response, Boomer pouted.
In truth, he had absolutely no intention of beating Rumian in this match. Honestly speaking, he lacked the confidence.
That was why he had made this request before entering the arena. To choreograph the fight so he could display his abilities sufficiently.
'If I fight well against Rumian, and Rumian beats Karl Krone or shows an even match, my evaluation will improve tremendously!'
Fortunately, Rumian wasn't completely thick-headed. Boomer had promised him two erotic books in exchange for his ready agreement.
But this guy was acting strange.
From the moment he saw Theoro and Karl Krone's match, his expression had been poor like a puppy needing to relieve itself, and now he was even snapping at him. His mood had turned sour as well.
'Nah, surely not. He wouldn't break a promise, right?'
That must be it. He was always prickly toward him, but breaking promises wasn't in his nature.
With erotic books on the line, that was even more certain. Boomer snorted and brushed away unnecessary thoughts.
"Next! Boomer Simpson, Rumian Callad. To the stage!"
"Alright, let's go!"
"......"
The two whose names were called headed to the stage. Boomer Simpson looked energetic, while Rumian Callad somehow appeared drained.
Of course, even amid this, the theatrical image projection through aura continued to be maintained. Several women called out words of encouragement toward him.
"Rumian Callad! We believe you'll win!"
"Please beat that ignorant bandit brute!"
At that, some vitality returned to Rumian's expression.
He focused a bit more. Then, the image he wanted to project emanated even more strongly.
If his appearance in the first round was a single wildflower, his current presence had deepened enough to be called a floral crown woven from wildflowers. It was thanks to diligently accumulating aura and practicing during the Swordsmanship Tournament.
Moreover, since his opponent was Boomer, notorious for being unpopular with women, the ladies' cheers all went to Rumian. His face brightened further.
But that was fleeting.
Recalling tomorrow's finals, his strength drained again.
Rumian's shoulders slumped as he glanced toward Karl Krone and thought:
'If I face that guy tomorrow, I'll end up looking just as pathetic as Boomer.'
Probably so.
No, even worse than that.
Even just looking at Theoro now.
By his cold analytical judgment, Theoro's current appearance appeal and his own aura image could garner similar levels of favor from women. He had observed female spectators' reactions throughout the tournament, so the margin of error wouldn't be large.
Yet Theoro, who possessed similar capabilities to himself, was completely defeated by Karl Krone. He was overwhelmingly outmatched in the popularity contest.
Some ladies even spat curses when Theoro went on the offensive.
To Rumian, that felt more terrifying than the acidic saliva of a giant monster.
"Are both participants ready?"
"Yes!"
"Yes? Ah, yes!"
While he was lost in thought, the match had crept right up to him.
Yet Rumian still hadn't collected himself.
What was his reason for participating in the Swordsmanship Tournament?
It was to gain popularity among women. To have easier romances through high recognition, to have more beautiful and charming women show interest in him—that was his goal.
Winning the tournament itself was not his true objective.
Even if he defeated Karl Krone and won, if he received criticism rather than cheers from women, that would be worse than not having participated at all.
'Hmm, is it okay to start? It should be fine, right?'
Of course, whether Rumian agonized over this or not, time flowed on. The referee looked at both participants and nodded.
Rumian Callad looked somewhat absent-minded, but he couldn't delay the proceedings. Having already received answers, showing too much consideration for one side's circumstances would be unfair.
The referee, having made his decision, raised his hand high. He swung his right arm down forcefully and shouted in a booming voice:
"Match begin!"
"Yaaaah!"
Simultaneously, Boomer charged at Rumian.
The pressure was immense as his large frame rushed forward rapidly. Even spectators far away flinched at his presence, so it was impossible to guess what Rumian, with his comparatively small stature, must be feeling.
Of course, the spectators' worries were unfounded.
Rumian still paid no attention to Boomer, lost in his own contemplation.
Boomer unleashed powerful attacks at him. A fierce vertical slash that seemed to tear space apart.
Hwooooong!
Rumian stepped back with one foot and twisted his body. That light movement alone achieved perfect evasion.
But Boomer's attack didn't end there.
As if finally hitting his stride, he swung his greatsword even faster and more powerfully.
Hwoong!
Hwoong!
Hwioooong!
Merciless attacks that seemed to carry the single-minded intent to destroy his opponent!
The audience held their breath as they watched the stage and the magical projection. Boomer's appearance, gaining explosive power and moving even faster, felt more intense than even Theoro's had been.
Yet for Rumian, it was still as if it concerned another world.
As he evaded Boomer's attacks, he thought with a still-depressed expression.
Hwoong!
'What should I do?'
Hwooong!
'How can I resist that guy?'
Hwoooong!
'Should I reveal my incomplete aura sword? No, that alone won't work!'
Rumian let out a small groan.
If he could draw out an aura sword while simultaneously operating his aura image, then yes, there was a possibility. That much could at least contend with Karl Krone's nonsensical attention-grabbing power.
But that was impossible. With his woefully insufficient aura reserves, he had to give up one. And that alone would never achieve what he desired.
Of course, cadets and those versed in swordsmanship would be astonished just by drawing out an aura sword without an aura image......
But who cares?
The majority of women wouldn't react well!
Hwooooong!
'What do I do? What do I do?'
His agonizing wouldn't stop. No matter how much he searched for a method, only a despairing future came to mind.
For the female fans who had already become Karl Krone's captives, swordsmanship skill no longer mattered.
Even if he beat that guy, they would surely only give him cold looks. He could foresee them pouring out all manner of criticism and abuse, like third-rate villains who had defeated the savior of all mankind......
Hwoooooong!
'No, but what is this thing keep bothering me!'
Something surged up from within Rumian.
He was about to lose his hair from the worry of a lifetime, yet some fly-like thing kept targeting him.
It was even hard to ignore. Getting hit would deal quite a shock. That was why he had kept evading, but now even that was becoming annoying.
Uuung, a thread of aura rose from Rumian's dantian. The rapidly fired aura arrived at Rumian's right hand following the body's pathways.
Bulge! Power infused the hand gripping his sword.
Rumian released that power in a single blow. Together with his irritation.
And that was the end.
Kwaaaang!
Hwiiiii...... ing
Clatter!
"Kuuugh!"
"Ah, right."
"......M-match concluded. Second year E class Rumian Callad, v-victory."
The sword flew off the stage.
Boomer clutching his sword hand, looking at Rumian with an aggrieved expression.
And Rumian, wearing a slightly flustered expression before awkwardly scratching the back of his head.
The spectators watching this all lost their words.
Most people couldn't even understand the situation. Rumian's sword just moments ago had been that fast.
Of course, even amid this, there were some who confirmed Rumian's skill with accurate eyes.
Zenath's high knight Sir Bucal, the head of Tarazan Academy's Knight Department.
And the finalist Karl Krone, who had ignored Rumian throughout the Swordsmanship Tournament.
There were others as well, but these were the most shocked.
Karl Krone, seated in the waiting area, shot up from his seat.
'This is absolutely absurd!'