Chivalry of a Failed Knight Vol. 1

“Ooh, what’s this?! We thought Ikki Kurogane was set to lose, but now he’s made a bold challenge! It’s the Noble Art he used to defeat the Rank A knight Stella Vermillion, Ittou Shuraaa! This big skill has a big drawback: he can only use it once a day! If he’s using it now, does that mean he’s figured out how to break through Area Invisible?!”

The host’s tone changed as the tables began to turn on the one-sided battle. Even Tsukuyomi must have been fed up with Kirihara’s appalling style. Her words implied that she wanted Ikki to turn the tables.

Unfortunately, Ikki hadn’t actually figured out how to break through it like she wanted. He just couldn’t; Area Invisible was probably one of the strongest anti-personnel Noble Arts out there. The Failed Knight couldn’t break through it on his own, and Kirihara was well aware of that fact.

“So, you think you can catch The Hunter, Worst One? I bet you can’t. Don’t make promises you can’t keep!”

He was right, too. To attempt the impossible would be a mistake on Ikki’s part. Doing so would make things even harder for him. Since the very beginning, there was only one thing Ikki Kurogane could do.

“Feel free to stop this pointless struggle. I, for one, am tired of watching your crude fighting. Let’s bring this little charade to an end soon. Oh, that’s right, I said I’d tell you where I’m aiming, didn’t I? Okay. Next up…” Kirihara was ready to kill. The arrow nocked in his bow would likely be the final blow, the end of their fight. “Your tiny little brain! If you don’t dodge it, you’ll die a failure!”

He fired off his invisible killing intent. The arrow, liable to actually end Ikki’s life, was flying straight toward him, but it didn’t matter anymore. To try to see the invisible was a pointless, impossible endeavor. Instead, he had to view the visible, listen to the audible.

Remember…

The sequence of his shots—their directions.

Remember.

The depth of the wounds—the angles.

Remember!

The sound of Kirihara’s voice when he taunted.

Every bit of their duel was contained within those elements.

Read the enemy’s traditions from their form; extrapolate their methods from their sequences and directions; learn their knowledge from their swordplay; calculate their location from the depth and angle of your wounds; steal the principles that define them by reading their techniques; expose their train of thought from their words and their tone of voice.

Ikki would take it all, along with the tendencies, personality, skills, and ideas that he had studied so carefully. He would combine it, analyze it, and draw conclusions from it until he had full control over Shizuya Kirihara. It wasn’t impossible. It wasn’t even difficult, because that was how Ikki Kurogane had always fought.

Oborozuki’s arrow approached Ikki, but instead of his head, it was aimed at his heart. The cool, calculated Hunter had set a trap with his final shot. He truly believed his enemy was hopeless, but he wanted to be sure, just in case the unthinkable happened. Not only was his attack invisible, but it was also a feint—it couldn’t possibly be avoided. Following The Hunter’s plan to the letter, his invisible murder weapon barreled straight toward Ikki’s heart.

“Huh?” came a dumbfounded voice from Kirihara. He couldn’t have imagined the mystery that had unfolded before his eyes; it was too far-fetched. His sure-kill attack couldn’t be avoided, couldn’t be survived, but just before it reached Ikki’s heart, he had caught it in his left hand, stopping it entirely. “H-How…?”

How was that possible? How could the impossible have possibly been happening? The Hunter was astonished; it was simply beyond his comprehension.

“Figures. Someone like you would lie at the last second,” Ikki muttered, covered in blood.

“What… are you?!”

As though insects were crawling along his spine, Kirihara felt a shudder creep down his back, for Ikki’s eyes had shot through the invisible Hunter without so much as moving.

“I-It can’t be…”

His body broke into a cold sweat as he felt such intense unease for the first time in his life. Chills spread throughout his arms and legs as they trembled uncontrollably.

“I’ve caught you,” the blood-soaked knight declared from within his swaying field of vision, “and I’m not letting you get away.”

◆◆◆

“Amaaaziiiiing! Kurogane caught an invisible arrow mid-flight! How did he do it?! I can’t even see Kirihara from my seat up here! His Area Invisible is still in full effect, but the announcers’ seats have camera feeds from all over the area! I may not be able to see Kirihara himself, but I can definitely see that Kurogane has stopped the arrow! Perhaps Kurogane can really see him, too?!”

“Hah! Ahahahah! For real?! He really did it!” The analyst, Ms. Saikyou, started clapping and laughing.

“Ms. Saikyou? Do you know what he’s doing?”

“Heheheh! Yeah, I do. As you can see, Area Invisible is basically useless now.”

Kirihara gritted his teeth when he heard that.

“D-Don’t be stupid! My Area Invisible can’t be seen through! Especially not by Rank F garbage like him!”

“Haha! Yeah, you’re right. I agree, in fact. You can be confident in the fact that Area Invisible is one of the strongest anti-personnel Noble Arts out there, but he didn’t see through Area Invisible—he saw through The Hunter himself.”

“What are you even talking about—”

“You’re pretty stupid, huh, Kirihara? Didn’t you see little Kurogane’s fight with the princess? He stole her Imperial Sword Style just by watching her. But you can’t steal someone’s style just by imitating it; you have to unravel their form and their swordplay to find the history at its core, grasp the ideas behind it, and reveal the logic at the root of it all. Those are the basics of stealing your enemy’s style. So, little Kurogane did the same thing here, but applied it differently. In this battle, he stole Shizuya Kirihara in his entirety. Isn’t that right, little Kurogane?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Ms. Saikyou’s seemingly-nonsensical words were met with a nod from Ikki. He had used Blade Steal on the person themselves.

“I-Impossible! You can’t be able to do that! You shouldn’t have even been able to see me!”

“Even if I can’t see you, Kirihara, it’s not hard to guess where you are. You leave evidence all over the place.”

“‘Evidence’?”

“Every time you hit me, you left evidence. The order in which my wounds formed tells me your methods, the angle of each shot tells me which direction you’re in, and the force tells me how far away you are. Using the evidence you left, it was easy to guess where you were. Once I knew that much, it was no different than being able to see you directly. From there, I just did what I normally do.

“Sword styles and people both have basic logic that governs their actions. You can call them ‘values’. By understanding a person’s actions, preferences, and words inside and out, I can figure out everything you do—how you’ll move, what measures you’ll take, whether you’ll advance or retreat, and whether you’ll attack or defend. For example, I know that you just took three steps backward.”

“Ngh?!”

Kirihara was frozen to the core with dread as he forced out a voiceless scream. No matter how little he wanted to believe that he had been seen through, everything Ikki had said was unmistakably true.

Human thought was firmly rooted in one’s identity—one couldn’t change the way they think overnight. Kirihara might have thought he could outfox Ikki, but the very idea of outfoxing him was born from his identity. As long as that was true, he couldn’t escape Ikki’s notice.

Stealing the enemy’s very identity meant being able to grasp all of their thoughts and feelings; it could be called Perfect Vision. Faced with such incredible power, Kirihara finally understood the true reason to fear Ikki Kurogane. It wasn’t because of his swordplay or even his one-minute boost. It was his penetrating eyes, like a magic mirror that could reveal the true nature of anything it looked upon, and they were fixed upon the invisible Hunter.

“I’ve seen through your ability,” Ikki told him. “This battle is already over!”

He dashed toward Kirihara with blinding speed, ready to sink his fangs into the defenseless Hunter!

“G-Go awaaaaaay!”

The Hunter put up one final resistance. He clung to Oborozuki as tightly as he could and put all of his magic into one final shot, aimed toward the sky. The arrow split into a hundred beams of light, which then poured down like a rain shower toward Ikki. Stones throughout the arena were pierced, destroyed, lifted into the storm, and destroyed once again. The rain of destruction showered the area irregularly.

Kirihara’s Noble Art, Million Rain, was an indiscriminate attack via a hundred arrows. If Ikki was reading his mind, then Kirihara just had to thoughtlessly cover the area with blanket fire. That was Kirihara’s conclusion; he was sure it was correct.

However—

“Why?! Why won’t they hit you?!”

Ikki was slicing through every single invisible arrow, sprinting endlessly through the rain of destruction. He hurtled through the rising cloud of dust, for he could already see everything.

“It’s no use. No matter how hard you try to stop thinking, you want to win, you want to kill me. Even in fear, your heart can’t hold itself back from screaming for the desire to kill. You can try to attack without thinking, but you still harbor the intent to kill.” As long as there was intent, he couldn’t escape Ikki’s Perfect Vision. To attack an enemy without intent or the desire to kill was an ability only within the power of a samurai. It wasn’t a feat attainable by someone like Kirihara. All he had done was increase the number of arrows. “Shoot a hundred or a thousand. I won’t break a sweat with Ittou Shura!”

Resistance was futile for Kirihara. Like an experienced shogi player who could see a hundred moves in advance, Ikki could already see the end of their match.

“W-Wait, wait! Stop! Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop! I told you to stop! Cut it out, man, seriously! I can’t lose to a Rank F failure like you! Unlike you, people expect things from me! Unlike you, you worthless trash, I have things to lose! You’re not allowed to win against meee! STOOOOOP!”

Ikki wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t, and nothing Kirihara could say would change that.

“H-Hey, I was just kidding, okay?!” Kirihara’s pleading continued. “C’mon, just quit it! Quit it! Th-That thing is sharp, y’know?! I could die if you swing that thing at me! This isn’t normal! Just cut it out, please! O-Oh, I know! Let’s settle it with rock-paper-scissors! Good idea, right?! C’mon, Kurogane! We were classmates! We’re friends, buddy!”

Ikki didn’t care. Kirihara was the one who had said to be “ready for what’s coming to you”, after all. When standing in the arena, a knight had to be prepared to kill or be killed, so Ikki gave him no quarter. Intetsu broke through all of Kirihara’s feeble resistance, finally coming into range of him.

“Haaaaaaaaah!”

“E-Eeeeeeeeeek! S-Stooooop! Okay! I get it, you win! I’m the loser here, just don’t hurt meeeeeeeeeee!”

Ikki swung his sword downward, its path glowing brightly. When the light finally faded and Kirihara was visible again, he remained face-up and intact on the ground.

He had fainted, eyes wide with fear and frothing at the mouth, but he had no major wounds. The only sign of injury was a tiny cut at the tip of his nose, not even bleeding. Everyone knew he had surrendered, so Ikki had no intent of killing Kirihara with his attack.

I misjudged by just a hair. I’d better work on that.

Ikki admonished himself for his inadequacy. He hadn’t meant to wound his foe, but the blade cut him ever so slightly. It turned out judging his distance just from the force of his shots was a little difficult.

“Shizuya Kirihara is unable to battle!” The referee announced Ikki’s victory in his very first battle. “Ikki Kurogane is the winner!”

Thus, The Hunter fell before his blade-wielding prey.

◆◆◆

“The duel is oveeeeer! And the winner is, amazingly, the Rank F knight Ikki Kurogane! Kurogane may have been barred from taking classes last year, but he has seized victory in his first official battle! Against the star of his original class, no less!”

The very moment his victory was announced, the strings holding Ikki together snapped. Wounds from the duel, major blood loss, and the exhausting side-effect of Ittou Shura—everything he had suppressed through sheer willpower collapsed on him at once.

“Congratulations… Huh?! Aaah! Kurogane has collapsed in the middle of the arena! He doesn’t look too good!”

“Hoo, boy. Medics! Get him into a Capsule, quickly!”

With Ms. Saikyou’s orders, the facility’s workers loaded Ikki’s body onto a stretcher.

iPS Capsules—commonly known as “Capsules”—were large pieces of medical equipment generously placed at each training field. Ikki was unlikely to die, thanks to the close proximity.

Once the winner was loaded onto the stretcher, Kirihara was left alone in the ring. It wasn’t long before he was carried off by the workers as well.

“Kirihara is now being carried out of the arena. This year’s front-runner for the Seven Stars has suffered a shocking defeat! Though he is uninjured, he shows no signs of waking up from his shock-induced fainting spell yet!”

Kirihara’s supporters, watching from the stands, began to talk amongst themselves.

“Wow, lame.”

“Wasn’t he crying at the end there? And he was all, ‘Don’t hurt meee!’”

“What a disappointment.”

“Let’s dip. I’m not really into him anymore.”

“Oh my! All of his fans are just up and leaving!” Tsukuyomi cried. “That’s… kinda sad, actually. Not one of his friends is going to look after him?”

“He’s not hurt, he’s just being a baby,” Ms. Saikyou reminded her. “Either way, he’ll wake up soon.”

“True, I guess. So, uh, that concludes today’s fourth match. Once we get the arena cleaned up, we’ll start the fifth one. Competitors, that’s your cue to start getting ready.” After that announcement, Tsukuyomi cut off her mic.

“Whew! That was a crazy battle. I still can’t believe a Rank F knight broke through Kirihara’s Area Invisible, considering it’s won him so many flawless victories before! I’d never even dreamed of it!”

She relaxed with a sigh and spoke to Ms. Saikyou, though the analyst’s seat was empty. “Cool battle, I’m out” read a note that had been left on it.

“I can’t take this anymore! Someone trade arenas with meeeee!”

◆◆◆

As Tsukuyomi screamed alone, the spectating students began to leave the fourth training field. The majority of them had come to watch this specific battle, after all. However, two people stood stock-still amidst the outflow. They were Shizuku and Alice.

“I feel bad for the people who fight next. It must be a shame to see so many people leave before your battle.” Alice looked toward the crowd as she spoke, then turned to the little girl next to her. “Are you going to the infirmary, Shizuku?”

“He’ll be asleep by the time I get there,” she replied, shaking her head.

“It’s only natural for a girl to want to be by his side, even if he’s sleeping. I’m sure Stella has already caught up with the stretcher. Are you perhaps giving them a chance to be alone?”

As Alice continued to question her, Shizuku puffed out her cheeks and turned away.

“Today’s an exception, since she pretty much helped him win.” And, though Shizuku was loath to admit, she was happy too. Her brother was so alone, so misunderstood by all, but Stella declared openly, before an incredible crowd of people, that she had come to love him and accepted his way of living. So she endured her desire to run to her brother and stay by his side, instead staying with Alice. Today alone, she would let the two be together. “But only for today. I mean it!”

“Haha. Hey, Shizuku?”

“What? Are you going to call me a loser?”

“No. I just really like this side of you.”

“Ngh! Jeez! Don’t tease me!” Her pale-white cheeks flushed red as she puffed her cheeks out further.

“Teehee, sorry. I won’t bug you about it anymore, so cheer up. Now, what should we do next? Wanna watch the next fight?”

“I’m not really interested.”

“Why don’t we go out and get something nice to eat, then? I don’t think our victory party will work out, considering the condition Ikki’s in.” Capsules could quickly heal wounds, but fatigue wasn’t so easily cured. He would probably be fast asleep all day, and it followed that Stella would be his side until he woke up. “If we’re going to let them enjoy each other’s company, we should at least have our own fun.”

“Let’s go somewhere with good liquor. Call it a coming-of-age ceremony for me.”

“Teehee. Okay. I know a place with a lovely atmosphere, just you wait.”

“I’m going to warn you now: in a few hours, I’m definitely going to regret leaving that sow alone with my brother. When that happens, I’m gonna get really, really mad, so get ready.”

“Heehee! I can’t wait.”

The two of them decided to change clothes in their dorm and enjoy their plan-B dinner. Looking at the backs of the spectators in front of her, Shizuku suddenly spoke.

“I wonder if the fools who insulted my brother still don’t believe in his strength.”

“Who knows? I’m sure some people won’t believe it even after seeing it in person, but those who have the power to vie for the Seven Stars should realize it by now. And they’ll remember the name Ikki Kurogane. He’ll never be called the ‘Failed Knight’ again; I can assure you of that.”

Alice was right. From then on, in the depths of the internet, the Failed Knight and Worst One began to be known by a new name: Another One, the Uncrowned Sword King. That name was proof that Ikki would no longer be known as a failure. After all, Ikki Kurogane had taken down one of the leading candidates for the Seven Stars Battle Festival.

◆◆◆

In the stands at the fourth training field, a small, red-clad woman clip-clopped up the stairs. It was, of course, Nene Saikyou, currently missing from the analyst’s chair. Her hair fluttered as she gave a passionate monologue about the battle.

“Phew, that was a hell of a battle. Who knew the Worst One, of all people, would be the one to take down the best anti-personnel Noble Art there is? And with such an unorthodox method, too. Penetrating the enemy’s very identity in the middle of a battle isn’t something anyone can do.

“Even the guys in the A-League can’t do that. I guess that’s Kuu’s ace in the hole for you. I can’t wait for more of his selection battles. But next time, he should fight someone stronger. Like, say, the student council president or something. What do you think, officers of Hagun Academy’s student council?”

When she arrived at the top level of the stands, she tossed a meaningful grin to the four knights before her, who had magical power incomparable to that of the students who had just left.

The officers of Hagun’s student council all had their own nicknames: Utakata “Fifty-Fifty” Misogi, Vice President; Kanata “Blutrote Dame” Toutokubara, Treasurer; Ikazuchi “Destroyer” Saijou, Secretary; and Renren “Runner’s High” Tomaru, General Affairs Manager. They were the most powerful people in Hagun Academy.

“It’s a shame Touka wasn’t here for this,” Ms. Saikyou told them. “I really wanted her to see today’s match. My intuition tells me Kurogane might just be her new rival before long.”

“Ahaha! Ms. Saikyou, you’re so bad,” Utakata Misogi, as small as—no, possibly smaller than an elementary schooler—laughed in response.

“Ohoho! Isn’t she? But look how hard he’s trying. It would be such a shame if we didn’t take good care of him.” A tall, blonde girl spoke after Utakata. Kanata Toutokubara, with the air of a French noblewoman and wearing a snow-white dress, opened her parasol—even though they were indoors.

“Well, aren’t you confident? I’d say there’s a vast gap between him and a semifinalist from last year’s Seven Stars Battle Festival.”

“Ahaha! I’ll say it again: Ms. Saikyou, you know so much, and yet you’re still so bad.”

“Honestly, there’s no point in considering past results. The problem lies even before that.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s exceedingly simple. No matter how sharp a mouse’s fangs or claws are, it can’t stand up to a lion.” Toutokubara looked far ahead and narrowed her blue eyes. “She would hardly even notice him. Our princess is so venerable, so far beyond him, that he can hardly even see her in the distance.”