As if to prove what had just happened was no fluke. Sion kept firing sword energy.
WHOOSH— WHOOSH—!
Silvia answered with blade-wind sword energy of her own. It was proof that both of them were at least Intermediate Knight level.
SWISH—! SWIIISH—!
Vermilion Aura and deep blue Aura collided. The aftermath of force, tilting toward neither side, resonated through the air.
CRASH—! BOOM—!
Heat and cold tangled wildly, strange air currents formed, and a massive burst of steam erupted.
HISSSS—
Mist blanketed the stage, and the shockwave that followed ripped through the spectators' clothes without mercy.
A heartbeat of silence. Then. A roar that shook the earth.
ROAAAAAR—!
"Who dared call Young Lord Sion a failure?"
"How could a half-wit exchange sword energy with the monster genius Knight Silvia?!"
"I don't know what's happening, but it's incredible!"
The spectators poured out shock and praise without restraint.
On one side, camera flashes popped noisily. CLICK-CLICK-CLICK.
Journalists' pen-wielding hands moved furiously.
Elsewhere, Roman watched the spectacle with trembling hands clutching his handkerchief.
The years when the young master had been called a "failure" and pointed at flashed before his eyes like a revolving lantern.
Before he knew it, his eyes had reddened. He fought to suppress the joy threatening to burst out, straining to etch the utterly transformed image of his young master into his eyes.
In the participants' reserved section, Rui Daiken felt a shiver run through him.
Wrapped head to toe in bandages, watching the finals, he realized that his defeat had been no fluke—no, that even when Sion had fought him, Sion hadn't revealed his full power.
'He was this strong?'
He was ashamed of himself—the one they'd called a genius. He regretted the past days when he'd been so proud of his hard work.
He couldn't even draw out the true strength of Sion Karsen, the man he'd stubbornly dismissed—and he called himself a genius?
It was a misunderstanding, of course.
But Rui had no way of knowing the truth.
And even so. He didn't despair. He simply resolved to push himself even harder. A firm vow.
At the edge of the arena, another kind of emotion was churning.
Midgal Rau—the Inspectorate Director, longtime vassal of House Karsen, the man called the "Iron-Blooded Knight."
He watched the two warriors in silence. Over their figures, the images of their childhood selves seemed to overlap.
'When did they...... grow up this much?'
He pressed down the emotion pounding at his chest. If he didn't, it would have burst free at any moment.
And. He thought of one person. His liege, Sion's father, and Silvia's adoptive father—a giant among men.
Grand Master and sovereign of the North. David Karsen.
"My lord. Look."
Your children have grown.
***
Atop the arena. At the heart of the storm, my mind was more complex than ever.
I'd entered combat with [Mana Detection] active. I was processing the flood of information at full capacity.
Deep in my heart, the divinity of Lumen Chronos pulsed.
THUMP— THUMP—.
Beyond the mist made of steam, the image of Silvia readjusting her grip on her sword came through with perfect clarity.
Which direction her muscles were contracting. How much pressure she was putting on her toes for the next leap. How much of the freezing mana flowing from her Core was being channeled into her blade.
I analyzed the combat data I'd collected on Silvia. Without the divinity in my heart to assist, it would have been impossible—but the divinity cooperated as if it were part of my own body.
CRUNCH. My foot dug into the ground. I used the rebound to launch myself. In the suspended moment of flight, I moved.
Somehow, my movements kept getting better. I detonated flame mana from the soles of my feet for extra speed and maintained velocity through clean, efficient motion.
My heading: straight at Silvia. She was ready for it—she drove her blade at me with razor precision.
SWISH—!
I'd anticipated her attack, of course. I had the data. In the split second, I twisted my body and let Silvia's strike graze past, then took her back.
Without hesitation, I swung. An attack from the blind spot, aimed at a vital point. Against a Novice Knight, that would have been the end. But.
CLANG—!
Silvia responded instantly.
A Knight with superb instincts, as expected.
I didn't let the block faze me and kept attacking. I didn't slow down. Accelerate, and accelerate again.
———CLANG-CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!
The exchange of blows across every corner of the arena was ferocious. Silvia's blade grazed my hair as it passed; my sword barely missed her throat.
Where blue Aura had passed, the ground froze. Where red Aura had passed, it burned.
Even without direct contact with the blade, flesh was cut. Blood ran from torn skin. The impacts made my body creak.
The fiercer the fight, the louder my body screamed.
CLANG—!
And whenever my sword and Silvia's clashed head-on. Between the two edges, cold and heat warred in perfect tension.
RUMBLE—
In terms of combat skill and physical durability, Silvia seemed to have the edge—but in Aura, mine was superior.
HISSS—
As the heat bore down on the cold and pressured Silvia, she couldn't hide her shock. Where did he get this kind of power? That was the expression on her face.
Realizing she'd lose at this rate, Silvia whipped her wrist and twisted her blade.
CLANG—!
A mana storm erupted between us, and in that gap, Silvia pushed her Aura to its absolute limit. A decisive gambit.
The tip of her sword quivered, then split into twelve.
Maier-style Classical Swordplay.
December's Blizzard Blossom.
From the trajectories Silvia wove, blue Aura shimmered—and twelve snow blossoms bloomed.
A fierce gale surged, and frost-laden petals cascaded down like a waterfall.
Block it if you can!
That was the nature of the technique.
Of course, I wasn't about to take it lying down. How hard had I worked for this very duel?
Not just the effort after the regression—I loaded everything from before the regression into a single sword.
I traced sword lines across the air. Burning Aura layered upon itself, forming a tempest.
The wind rose.
A blazing wave crashed forward.
Karsen-style Classical Swordplay, Revised.
Blazing Tempest.
———CRASH—!
Two slashes of opposing natures collided. The ice petals melted and vanished; the wave of flame cooled and died.
And with it, mist formed.
Several times larger and faster than before.
HISSSS—
Neither Silvia nor I stopped moving. This was the only chance to seize the momentum.
Through the mist, red and blue Aura flashed. Whenever the two clashed, it was like fireworks detonating. Truly dazzling swordlight.
BOOM! CRASH! BOOM-CRASH—!
No room to breathe.
When Silvia leapt into the air, I leapt after her and attacked. When she created distance, I clung to her relentlessly and struck at the gaps. Silvia couldn't contain her astonishment.
Her expression seemed to say:
'Relentless.'
Of course it was. She had no idea about the me from before the regression. The combat of an Asura, forged across countless battlefields.
Again and again, I pressed forward without hesitation. In the mist-obscured arena, [Mana Detection] proved its worth, and I dug in even more tenaciously.
CLANG—!
Silvia responded with her innate talent and reflexes, but she was growing increasingly frantic.
This kind of fight was a first for her. She was shaken. Eventually, cornered psychologically, Silvia pushed her Aura to the extreme once more.
She swung her blade, releasing frigid mana. The water particles in the mist began to freeze.
CRACK—!
I didn't miss the opening left by the effort of deploying a major technique.
I withdrew my Aura.
Erased my presence.
Concentrated mana in both legs.
Like a predator holding its breath, creeping close, then tearing at the throat—I launched forward at ultra-high speed without a sound.
The instant the mist parted. I was right in front of Silvia. My blade touched her neck. The cold edge of steel pressed against her skin.
"......!"
The match was decided.
I smiled gently.
And returned her own words to her.
"Has that been proof enough?"
Silvia's pupils shook wide. But they gradually steadied.
I'd expected her to be bitterly frustrated at losing to me. But her expression was better than I'd imagined.
Silvia's voice rang out softly.
"You really have...... changed. No, is it that you've come back?"
She smiled. And so did I. Then, without either of us taking the lead, we walked together to the center of the arena.
And.
Stood at a measured distance apart.
"I concede."
"I learned much from this match."
Midgal Rau raised his right hand high and bellowed:
"The winner of this Golden Star Tournament is Sion Karsen!"
A heartbeat of silence. The sight had been so stunning that everyone was speechless. But then.
ROAAAAAR—!
CLAP-CLAP-CLAP-CLAP-CLAP-CLAP-CLAP!
Thunderous cheers poured down.
The names echoing through the arena were Sion Karsen. And Silvia Maier. Neither name was called more than the other.
It was a kind of tribute paid to both young warriors who had given a magnificent duel—regardless of winner or loser. This was the North that House Karsen had built.
'Yes. For now, this is more than enough.'
I was thoroughly satisfied. What mattered right now were the people who had watched the Golden Star Tournament.
I wanted them to feel my change. And I wanted them to know that I would bring a wave of change.
I walked up to Silvia and extended my hand.
"Your swordsmanship was razor-sharp. It was a close fight."
Silvia clasped my hand and replied.
"Are you making fun of me?"
"No. I mean it."
I truly did. Without analyzing Silvia and training up until the very last moment, I would have lost.
"Sion, you've changed."
"Old enough to grow up."
Silvia snorted a laugh. She didn't forget to tell me to knock off the nonsense, either.
"Sion. I thought you'd gone astray because you felt inferior to the eldest young lord."
"......What? Ah, haha."
The mention of my eldest brother made my head ring. Now that I thought about it. Where was he looking right now?
The eldest son of House Karsen, the talent said to succeed Father—another genius. Sien Karsen.
He'd reached the tier of Knight Expert at twenty-eight and was the very future of House Karsen.
Revered by every territory resident. Respected by every Northern Knight.
Currently away, supporting the suppression of a demonic beast wave in the western continent.
Before the regression, I'd certainly felt crippling inferiority toward him. Of course, no such feeling remained now.
Compared to what was coming, both he and I had a long way to go. If anything, I needed to make him stronger.
"How can you say something that hurtful so casually?"
"I'm just relieved it's not true."
"Tch. You never listen to me, do you?"
We traded words without formality, the way we had as children. As close friends.
"I won't lose next time."
"That won't be easy."
As if we'd truly gone back to childhood.
We smiled at each other for the first time in a long while.
Then.
Midgal Rau walked over and said:
"Congratulations. Both of you—Young Lord Sion and Silvia. You have both grown into fine warriors. The Lord will be pleased."
"Thank you, Director."
I smiled wryly at his words. Coming from a vassal who'd served Father since childhood, they were reassuring—but I couldn't quite picture Father being pleased.
"Thank you. I truly hope so."
A brief awards ceremony followed.
As the winner, I received the prize of 3 billion zeni.
Qualification to join the [Platinum Knight Order].
The right to make a request of the Lord.
Among other things.
And so, the North's summer festival.
The Golden Star Tournament of August came to a close.
'I've finally achieved my initial objective.'
But there was still a long road ahead.
This was only the first step.