“W-what?”
“A Westerner defeated Lady Luciana?”
An icy silence.
The victor was the very reason this emotion had seized the colosseum stands.
They had spoken of likely finalists and favorites to win, but there had only ever been one champion in their hearts.
Luciana Speda.
The daughter of House Speda, their pride, who was called the treasure of the North.
Having displayed skill worthy of that epithet, she had easily defeated her challengers and reached the finals.
And she had lost because of a momentary blinding?
To a Westerner whose name they had never even heard?
“Boo! Get out, third-rate referee!”
“How can you declare that man lying sprawled on the ground the winner?”
“Duke Speda! Punish that outsider’s cowardly methods!”
The jeers, fierce as a wildfire, instantly filled the colosseum.
“He neutralized armor! He surely used some cowardly trick!”
Behind them lay the Northerners’ pride, as well as the subtle agitation of those who had lost to Hans earlier.
“Hans Byron.”
The organizer of the Martial Arts Tournament opened his mouth.
Everyone’s eyes turned to Duke Speda, who was watching everything from the highest point of the arena.
- A knight’s fight must, above all, be fair. In that sense, your method is so contemptible that it could only be called a Westerner’s way. This final match is invalid.
The spectators, as well as those who had lost, were certain the duke would say something like that.
After all, he could not possibly look favorably upon an outsider who had defeated even his own daughter. Their faces full of anticipation, they clicked their tongues, convinced of their victory.
“Thank you for showing my daughter such an excellent match.”
However, their assumptions missed the mark completely.
Another silence, unlike the one before, settled over the colosseum.
“You flatter me.”
“It is no flattery. I dare say that among your peers, you alone can contend with Luci to that extent.”
Duke Speda, who had been smiling warmly as he congratulated the winner, turned his gaze toward his daughter.
“…I have no excuse.”
It was a statement born of responsibility for failing to bring victory to House Speda.
“For someone who says that, you look rather pleased.”
However, self-reproach was not the only thing she felt.
The spectators, who had been frozen in place, murmured in disbelief.
“The treasure of the North, who is renowned for being so cold… smiled?”
“After losing, at that?”
“It must have been a satisfactory duel.”
“Yes. Although I lost, I poured everything I had into it, and it was a match from which I learned a great deal.”
Luciana nodded sincerely.
What was important to victory?
Vitality and Strength, which were essential when wielding a sword?
Magic Power, which determined both the power of spells and the number of times they could be cast?
Of course, those things were important, but they were not absolute factors.
If she had to name someone she knew with poor stamina, her attendant would be second to none.
The same was true of Magic Power.
Just from the fact that he did not use the flashy and powerful magic Liza cast, it was easy to infer that Hans’s Magic Power was nothing extraordinary.
However, he had made such good use of his strengths that he had overcome those disadvantages, defeated Luciana, and even claimed victory.
“I dare say that Hans Byron’s ability to create variables on the battlefield is several times greater than my own.”
A relic that turned armor into complete junk.
Magic that lacked direct firepower but was specialized in exploiting openings.
Sharp dynamic vision and flashy footwork that allowed him to evade any technique.
‘It is hardly stable, but if it succeeds, he can seize the advantage even against an opponent far stronger than himself.’
It was precisely what she, who had insisted upon facing opponents head-on, needed to make up for.
‘And more than anything, the courage to face me without being intimidated must have also played a part in his victory.’
Liza and that mercenary.
It had been clear that both were intimidated by House Speda and Luciana’s well-known swordsmanship.
However, Hans was different. Though he was physically inferior, his dagger contained none of that sort of fear.
‘It was the same when he gave me his only Return Stone.’
After saving her.
The sight of him turning his back without a moment of hesitation and facing the demon had overlapped with… a white knight from a fairy tale.
‘Gasp! What am I thinking right now…? I must have lost my mind for a moment.’
The shock of defeat had been significant. Without even realizing that the tips of her ears had reddened, Luciana resolved to devote herself to swordsmanship even more.
“If you learned something and grew from it, that is enough. Let today’s defeat serve as a foundation, and aim for victory next time. You did well.”
The duke also dismissed her fluster as the result of a defeat she had rarely experienced and turned back to Hans.
“Congratulations on your victory. It seems you are in no condition to enter the vault at present. Once you have recovered, tell Yegor.”
“Thank you. Though I am a Westerner, I was able to win thanks to Your Grace’s boundless generosity.”
Duke Speda raised an eyebrow.
It was not difficult to infer that Hans’s seemingly sarcastic tone was a complaint about being jeered throughout his match.
At a glance, it could be considered presumptuous, but Duke Speda rather liked that attitude.
After all, what sort of ordinary attendant was he?
As a man in House Speda’s service, he needed that much backbone.
However.
He agreed with the behavior the North had displayed today as well.
It had been exceedingly disappointing.
“…You, too, have something to learn from the match just now, just like my daughter.”
Every person in the colosseum swallowed unconsciously at the sharp pressure emanating from him.
That was the Sword Saint.
The strongest existence protecting the North.
The man who had seized everyone’s attention with nothing but his presence raised his voice.
“Fair? Cowardly? The intent behind a fight is ultimately decided by the victor. Our ancestors, too, took root in this land, where demonkind and monsters ran rampant, without concern for means or methods.”
Those who had branded Hans cowardly lowered their heads.
The same was true of those who had been effortlessly defeated by him.
“You could not encourage the champion who claimed a difficult victory by every means available, and instead you disparage him for being an outsider. Can you truly call yourselves Northerners?”
It was a harsh rebuke.
However, the faces of those who grasped its deeper meaning turned pale.
Duke Speda’s fierce words contained not only advice but also a warning.
Do not find fault with the result of the Martial Arts Tournament he had hosted.
The effect was dramatic. Even those who had lost heavily through gambling first grew fearful of what would happen if they offended the most powerful noble in the North.
“…….”
“…….”
The result was silence.
It was a bizarre award ceremony, without even a single cheer, as though they had entered a library.
“This is much better. Thank you for your consideration.”
The champion himself seemed pleased with it.
***
“I never imagined you would win.”
Yegor clasped his head as though it ached.
“I was certain that the young lady would come to see me.”
What could he do, though? It was me he was facing instead.
Whether he disliked the fact that I had won, Yegor kept sighing deeply.
No, more precisely.
“Could you not at least make some progress brewing tea with the skill you showed at that Martial Arts Tournament?”
With a pale-green something before me, I lowered my head awkwardly.
“I am trying.”
“That trying again! I want results, not effort. You make a convincing show of the tea ceremony, but why can I never give its taste a passing grade?!”
Vividly pale green, but with a taste that did not match.
According to a certain someone, it was rotten water disguised as tea.
According to Yegor, tea ceremony was an essential virtue for an attendant.
He said that an attendant must always have tea prepared so their master could enjoy some leisure.
Listening to his scolding made me miss tea bags and instant coffee.
Only after I had listened to countless pieces of “advice” did Yegor regain his composure and start walking.
“Haa…. That is enough. My duty today is not to reprimand a subordinate but to guide the winner of the Martial Arts Tournament.”
‘I think you have already done more than enough of that.’
Grumbling inwardly, I walked through the familiar corridor with him.
“This is your first time on the second basement level.”
The second basement level.
The very place he had repeatedly urged me never to enter was now mentioned.
“If the first level contains nothing more than well-made weapons and equipment, the second is a true relic vault. You may take one thing you want from there.”
“Did you not say there was a guardian deity?”
I had already experienced the difficulty of the Snow Spirit, the guardian of House Valtrion’s vault, firsthand.
Since this was a ducal house, its guardian certainly would not be any weaker.
“Do not worry. It is away from the second level at the moment.”
“That is a relief.”
“Now then, I have opened the door to the second level. Pick one thing and come back out. Do not judge by outer splendor alone, and examine everything carefully….”
Yegor, who had been slowly imparting his know-how on choosing relics, suddenly stopped speaking.
Not only his mouth, but his feet stopped as well.
Because of that, I had to stop behind him too.
“…What brings you here, My Lady?”
The reason was Luciana, who was lingering around the first floor of the vault.
“Oh, Yegor. It is nothing special. I came to return my armor and sword.”
“That is something Hans could have done.”
Her disapproving gaze slid over me, as if reproaching me for failing to retrieve my mistress’s equipment properly.
“Do not blame him too much, Head Attendant. I came here first without even giving him time to retrieve them.”
“…Is that so?”
Wink.
Luciana signaled to me with her eyes behind Yegor’s back.
Thanks to that, I escaped the endless hell of his scolding.
“And I thought I would guide him as well.”
“You will guide him?”
“Yes. Can I not recommend a relic or two to our Martial Arts Tournament champion?”
Regardless of the headache Yegor was likely suffering right then, it was quite a good proposal for me.
Especially with Luciana, who was free from the pressure of the guardian deity, beside me, I might be able to do something bolder.
“Did you receive the head of the house’s permission?”
“Of course. Here is a letter written in my father’s own hand.”
After examining the paper from every angle, Yegor slowly nodded.
“Understood. You are very knowledgeable about relics, My Lady, so you will surely be of help to him.”
He bowed respectfully and left the vault, leaving the two of us alone.
“What are you standing there for? Hurry and go choose your prize.”
Following Luciana, I arrived at the second basement level of the vault.
House Valtrion’s vault had certainly held a great many relics, but comparing it to this place would have felt unfair.
Like standing before a lavish banquet and wondering what to eat first.
While I was enjoying that pleasant dilemma, Luciana suddenly held out a relic to me.
“This is the relic I personally recommend.”
[Yeti Power Glove]
[Item Classification: Gloves]
[The Yeti, the North’s most ferocious monster, is the symbol of strength. The ecology of the snowy plains changes merely when this snowman moves. A great curiosity—what if its power were reproduced exactly?—was eventually realized by an artisan’s hand.]
[When worn: Vitality +2]
[At the wearer’s will, convert one of the basic stats into Strength.]
It was a relic that seemed to be based on something one would associate with a fantasy game.
I could understand why Luciana had recommended it.
It could greatly boost my chronic deficiencies in Vitality and Strength, so how could it not be good?
It was a relic that could be called the very symbol of a safe choice.
“It certainly looks good.”
However, something that was merely safe did not suit me at all.
“Hmm. I can recommend other relics as well, but….”
“No, My Lady. Since we have come this far, why do we not aim higher?”
This place was certainly filled with expensive relics with excellent performance.
However, because I had once raided this vault in the game and had every inch of its layout memorized, I knew that even this was misdirection and bait.
“Would you like to go to the third basement level?”
The real prize was resting just ahead. How could a sparrow possibly pass a mill without stopping?