the moment Tiferia spoke the incantation, the atmosphere shifted dramatically.
“Weapon Break!”
With a flick of her wrist, the radiant light from the Saint Sword enveloped Quid’s weapon, and in an instant, it shattered into countless shards, scattering like stars across the arena. The audience gasped collectively, the sound echoing in the now tense air.
Quid, caught off guard, stumbled back, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Wha—?! My sword!”
Tiferia, unfazed, maintained her calm demeanor. “Now, now, Quid. You should have thought twice before challenging a Master Knight.”
The crowd erupted into cheers, their excitement palpable. I could hardly believe what I was witnessing. Tiferia’s power was awe-inspiring, and the way she handled herself in battle was nothing short of mesmerizing.
“Is this really the same person who seemed so disinterested earlier?” I thought, my heart racing.
Quid, now weaponless, resorted to desperate measures. He lunged at Tiferia with a wild swing of his fists, but she sidestepped effortlessly, her movements graceful and fluid.
“Come now, Quid. This isn’t how a knight should fight,” Tiferia chided lightly, her voice carrying over the din of the crowd.
“Shut up! I’ll show you!” he shouted, his frustration boiling over.
But Tiferia was already a step ahead. With a swift motion, she brought the Saint Sword down, and a wave of light surged forth, striking Quid squarely in the chest. He was thrown back, landing hard on the ground, the air knocked from his lungs.
“Enough,” Tiferia declared, her voice firm yet composed. “Yield, or face the consequences.”
Quid lay there, panting heavily, the fight drained from him. “I… I yield,” he gasped, raising a hand in surrender.
The crowd erupted into applause, and I couldn’t help but join in, my heart swelling with admiration for Tiferia. She had not only showcased her strength but had done so with a grace that was captivating.
As the announcer declared Tiferia the winner, I felt a mix of emotions—pride, admiration, and a twinge of jealousy. Tiferia was truly remarkable, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I would ever reach her level.
“That was incredible!” Ritta exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I want to be like her!”
“Yeah,” I agreed, though a part of me felt a little overshadowed. “She’s amazing.”
As the crowd began to disperse, I caught sight of Seigel, who had been watching the match with a serious expression. He turned to me, his gaze piercing. “You see that, Rua? That’s what it means to be a true warrior.”
I nodded, feeling the weight of his words. “Yeah, I get it.”
“Don’t let your emotions cloud your judgment,” he continued, his tone serious. “Learn from her, but don’t lose yourself in the process.”
I understood what he meant. Tiferia was a beacon of strength, but I had to forge my own path.
As the arena emptied, I felt a renewed sense of determination. I would train harder, learn more, and one day, I would stand alongside Tiferia as an equal.
“Let’s go, Rua,” Roel said, her voice breaking through my thoughts. “We have more to do today.”
I smiled at her, grateful for her presence. “Right. Let’s go.”
With that, we left the arena, the echoes of the match still ringing in my ears, and a fire ignited within me, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
Tiferia approached Queed with completely ordinary steps, closing the distance between them. She lightly tapped her Saint Sword against Queed’s blade.
The contact was so anticlimactic that I could almost hear a soft clink.
In an instant, Queed’s sword shattered into countless pieces. He stood frozen, still gripping the hilt of what remained.
His eyes rolled back, and Queed collapsed forward. Had he lost consciousness? He lay completely still, not moving at all.
“Referee, this must be the end, right?”
“Ah, yes! The winner is Tiferia!”
No one seemed puzzled by Queed’s defeat from merely having his weapon destroyed; nearly the entire audience erupted in cheers for Tiferia’s victory, their voices rising from deep within.
“Alright, alright, thank you very much. Please take care of that person over there; I’ll be taking this with me.”
Tiferia picked up the shattered pieces of the sword and strolled leisurely out of the arena. What on earth had just happened? The moment that sword broke, Queed fell. It was as if the sword itself was linked to Queed’s very heart. I watched as he was carried away on a stretcher, but I had no answers.
“What do you think, Seigel?”
“That sword must have been cursed in some way, or perhaps…”
A curse. If that were the case, why would Queed have used such a weapon? I couldn’t make sense of it at all.
“What concerns me is that Tiferia collected the fragments. Most likely, she received some kind of order from the King.”
“The King?”
“S-Rank adventurers are no longer just adventurers. Even that lazy Tiferia would obey any command from the King.”
“Seigel, are there cursed weapons that can cause a person to collapse like that when broken?”
My curiosity about the notion of no longer being an adventurer was piqued, and I was about to ask when Roel interrupted with her question.
“The costs vary too much to say for certain; after all, it’s not my area of expertise.”
Suddenly, I felt a strange presence from far behind the audience. It wasn’t killing intent, but something odd. As I turned around, I caught a glimpse of something quickly hiding in the shadows of the entrance. What was that?
“What’s wrong, Rua? The finals are about to begin. Your opponent is Tiferia; you saw the last match, right? That was the essence of a Master Knight, the full spectrum of sword techniques.”
“F-full spectrum of sword techniques?”
“A Master Knight possesses around ten thousand sword techniques. Among them are techniques honed by renowned swordsmen over decades. On top of that, Tiferia’s skill level… even if an entire A-Rank party attacked her, they wouldn’t even leave a scratch.”
If Tiferia is someone who could overturn the ten years I spent in the Abyss Cave, I felt a pang of frustration. No matter how amazing Tiferia was, I absolutely believed I was stronger. That was one thing I was certain of.
—Because I am…
I am…?
What was I just thinking?
Sometimes, I feel this sense of dissonance. It feels like I’m not myself, even though I know I am. I think back to a time when I felt this way before. Yes, it was back then—
///
“Did you bring it back, Tiferia?”
“Yes, here it is.”
Tiferia presented the wrapped fragments to the King. Normally, she would abandon thought altogether due to her laziness, but even she couldn’t help but tilt her head in confusion this time. If it were merely a cursed weapon, the King wouldn’t personally issue such a command to her. Was it truly a situation that warranted an urgent summons? Tiferia couldn’t understand.
“Your Majesty, I shall take it.”
The Prime Minister, Belmund, approached Tiferia with a sinister expression. Even Tiferia, who generally showed little interest in others, felt a sense of revulsion towards this man. It wasn’t just because he had an ugly old man’s face. Whispers circulated that he handled nearly all of the kingdom’s affairs, sleeping less than two hours a night, clinging to the King more than his own guards, and even volunteering to taste the King’s food for poison. This obsessive patriotism was one reason for her disdain. Another was that it was too vile to even speak of; he was no longer worthy of being called a human. In her heart, Tiferia looked down on him.
“Well done. You may continue to participate in the matches.”
It wasn’t the King who spoke; it was Belmund’s words, as if he were speaking on the King’s behalf. Knowing it would be futile to question him, Tiferia returned to the arena as instructed.
“…Truly disgusting.”
The expression on her face was so malevolent that it could be likened to that of a demon.