Chapter 10: The Martial Arts Tournament (Part 1)

It was the first of October. The super fun summer break of dungeon delving was over, and Allen was now thirteen.

A small commotion had ensued when the No-life Gamers showed their Rank A clearance card to the Guild staff. The staff were all aware that every member of their party was only a first-year student. On top of that, the number of people who had successfully cleared a Rank A dungeon were extremely few, even here in Academy City. Generally, it took a normal party—one without access to Allen’s Summons—an entire year to get through a Rank A dungeon. Making this much progress in such a short period of time was completely mind-blowing.

As it turned out, the clearance card was the condition for the Guild to release information on Rank S dungeons. The staff member who had handled the Gamers’ visit briefed them on a few things.

First, a Rank S dungeon did indeed exist. Once all five marks were gathered, a cube would appear to offer guidance to reach that Rank S dungeon. So far, no one from Ratash had ever managed to brave all the odds and make it that far.

When the No-life Gamers returned to school, news of their exploits had already spread like wildfire. They soon found themselves constantly being approached by other students, with Rifol being one of them. He asked them if they had time during lunch today; judging by his tone, it sounded like it would be a serious discussion, so they agreed. When lunchtime came around, Allen and his friends headed to the empty classroom they had been invited to.

“So, what’s going on?” Allen asked. “This doesn’t look like a casual meeting to talk about dungeons.”

“Well, it’s about House Carnel,” Rifol replied.

As I expected. Allen turned around to shoot a look at Keel.

Rifol knew about Keel coming from House Carnel. Naturally, he also knew that Cecil belonged to House Granvelle. In fact, the latter was a fact now well-known in the class, thanks to students born in Granvelle greeting her every morning in an attempt to make an impression.

“Which means this is related to Keel?”

“Mm-hm. The royal court is in an uproar again. Any more, and things are going to get out of hand for my father.” Rifol drew his eyebrows together, making a troubled face.

Oh, the viscount’s been making moves, huh? He still hasn’t told me anything yet, though. But still, is that something for a parent family to say?

The concept of parent and child families was a system of hierarchy among nobles. Upper nobles, as parent families, took care of certain lower nobles tied to them as their child families. House Granvelle’s parent family was its neighbor, House Hamilton. As it just so happened, House Carnel was also a child family of House Hamilton. And it was considered a parent family’s responsibility to mediate whenever trouble sprang up between its children.

The commotion last year could, therefore, be framed as House Hamilton not properly fulfilling its duties. Allen had no way of knowing just how much Viscount Granvelle had relied on Count Hamilton, but he was familiar enough with the man to know that he must have gone through the proper channels. Unfortunately, House Hamilton just was not in a position to come down too hard on House Carnel when it still commanded such economic influence.

“Did Viscount Granvelle do something?”

The first order of business was to gain a clear picture of the situation. Allen had played a large role in the House Granvelle Affair the previous year by handing over his rights to a mithril mine and spurring the viscount on. This time, however, he did not think he had done all that much to set the man off.

Rifol obliged. Last month, during a royal audience with many nobles present, Viscount Granvelle had approached the throne, knelt down, and said loudly, “Your Majesty’s benevolence truly knows no bounds! Thank you for promising the child of former House Carnel a chance to restore his family’s status!”

The king had replied, “What are you talking about?” and looked completely confused.

As the other nobles buzzed in confusion, the viscount had continued, “A source told me that a royal envoy visited Carnel, bringing news of an arrangement. From what I heard, the boy was promised the restoration of his house should he complete five years of his duty.”

It was at this point that the king had figured out what had happened. The only people who could dispatch royal envoys were the king himself and those who possessed the right to succeed the throne. If it had not been the king, then it must have been another member of the royal family who had dispatched said envoy.

So the king turned to the princes and princesses, who were also present at the audience, and demanded an explanation. However, every one of them claimed ignorance. The king then demanded proof, prompting the viscount to produce magic ship flight records that did indeed detail a royal envoy traveling to Carnel.

Ah, if this happened last month, it means the viscount spent a whole month investigating before making his move.

“So, did they figure out who sent that envoy to Keel?” Allen asked.

“Well, the envoy insisted that he had no recollection of making such a trip and kept mum to the end. However, that envoy and the one who had visited Viscount Granvelle last year both served the same person.”

Generally, royal envoys were each assigned to a specific member of the royal family, so a single look at the flight records was enough to tell who the envoys served.

“Well, who was it?” I feel like if I ask any further, I’m gonna get dragged into something huge. But I can’t not ask.

“The crown prince. He’s the king’s nephew and next in line for the throne.”

“Does that crown prince happen to have a child?”

“He has a daughter who is currently ten years old. She’s Talented, from what I hear.”

From the information he was giving out, it was clear that Rifol was fully aware of Keel’s circumstances. He sure knows a lot for someone who was supposed to have been focusing on dungeons over the break. Did he have informants in the royal capital regularly coming to Academy City to keep him updated?

“In short, all I wanted to tell you is that Viscount Granvelle has basically picked a fight with someone who even His Majesty can’t exactly control. With His Majesty being over seventy years old, everyone is already bracing themselves for the crown prince to take over at any given time.”

However, Allen could not care less who was king. So what that means is that someone related to Cecil’s kidnapping is still strutting around, having gotten off scot-free.

As part of the fallout of the House Granvelle Affair, many nobles had been rounded up, and all implicated royal envoys had been dealt with. However, it had now been confirmed that the person who had been manipulating those envoys was still alive and well.

In short, the envoy who came to Keel was serving the crown prince, and the king had no knowledge of the arrangement regarding his duty. Even so, Allen did not plan on acting on anything in the near future. He had promised to entrust the matter to the viscount, so he would be staying put unless something happened. As a guest of the family, he would only take action if some disaster were about to befall Viscount Granvelle’s or Keel’s families.

When lunchtime was over, Allen thanked Rifol for all the information. Ugh, I’m always the one receiving intel from him. My debt to him is just growing larger and larger.

In the afternoon, the students had practical lessons. After checking out all the classes that were available the previous semester, Allen had ultimately decided to focus on his swordsmanship. His aim was to reach Sword Mastery Lvl. 4 by graduation.

“Okay, you lot, line up!” Carlova, who had the Sword Master Talent and served as the main instructor for the class, bellowed.

The students gathered up obediently. As this class contained all the first-year students with sword-related Talents, there were more than two hundred present. Allen stood next to Krena and Rifol, who was a Swordsman.

“We might be back from break, but the class ain’t gonna be much different. Do a thousand practice swings, then find someone to spar with.”

“Yes, sir!” Everyone replied with much more gusto than Allen would have expected from a group of middle school kids. They then spread out with plenty of space between each other and began practicing their sword swings. All of them were using steel swords—though they still called them practice swords—so care was needed.

Wow, everyone’s movements have gone a lot sharper. Guess all the time going dungeon crawling really did pay off.

Rifol asked Allen to spar with him, to which Allen nodded in reply. This prompted Krena to whine in disappointment.

“Awwww!”

Uh, Krena, you have 3,200 in Attack now. That’s a bit much even for me. Please go spar with Carlova instead like you always do. He’s here specifically for you, after all—you’re literally the reason why they sent him here from the royal capital.

Due to the variety of the cards he was currently maintaining for the Summons Squads, Allen’s Attack was only around 1,300 at the moment.

Allen’s thoughts were interrupted as Carlova approached them, his greatsword propped on his shoulder. “C’mon, what’s the hold up?” Krena pouted a little in disappointment before following him a distance away.

Then the sparring began. The screech of steel clashing against steel filled the air.

Hmm, looks like Rifol’s leveled up quite a bit too. I’d estimate his Attack to be around 800, which would make him around Lvl. 35. Dogora had around 1,000 Attack when he was around that level. Rifol’s number is probably closer to the average for a first-year with a sword-related Talent.

While exchanging blows with Rifol, Allen could not help but remember Mihai, Cecil’s late older brother. He found himself wondering just what Mihai had thought about while attending this school.

CLAAAAAANG!

Suddenly, an earsplitting metallic screech rang out, causing all the students to stop mid-motion. A beat later, Allen could hear someone cheering.

What happened?

“Look, Carlova’s giant-ass sword got snapped!”

“Was he not fighting seriously?”

“Krena’s broke too!”

Both Krena’s and Carlova’s practice swords had buckled under the power of their attacks, and the blades had snapped in two.

“Impressive. Wait here a moment,” Carlova told her.

“Yes, sir!” Krena replied with her usual energy.

The teacher headed into the school building with his broken sword in hand. Allen watched him go, then resumed sparring with Rifol. Soon, Carlova returned, but with two mithril greatswords—both with their edges unblunted—over his shoulders. One of the other teachers of the class rushed over in a fluster, trying to stop him.

“You can’t do this, Carlova! Those swords are not for practice!”

“Huh? It’ll be fine.”

“How can it be fine?!”

“Hm, this place is a bit too small. Krena, let’s go somewhere more open.” Carlova was pretending he could not hear the other teachers’ complaints.

“Yes, sir!”

The two stepped away to an area removed from the rest of the students and resumed sparring. Mithril clashed against mithril repeatedly. Despite the distance, Allen could still clearly hear the sounds of their fighting.

It looks like Carlova has a slight edge. Just a little. I’d say their stats are pretty much equal, but Carlova’s Sword Mastery is higher. I mean, Krena’s is still only Lvl. 5 right now.

Despite having reached Lvl. 57, Krena still had nowhere near as much experience with the sword as Carlova. That said, the fact that she could give it her all against him was making her very happy, given how wide her smile was and how enthusiastically she was swinging her weapon. Clearly, she found the act of fighting itself enjoyable.

It was true that Krena also practiced sparring with Dogora, but since he only had around 2,000 in Attack, she had to go easy on him. The Rank B monsters she encountered in the dungeons also were becoming less and less of a challenge, although the Rank A boss monsters still excited her with their overwhelming strength. And now, someone even more powerful than her was right before her eyes. This fact apparently pleased her immensely.

Two hours passed, and the school bell rang.

“Now I...understand how...you cleared a...Rank A dungeon,” Carlova said in an appreciative tone as he panted, trying to catch his breath.

Huh? Did he look my way for a moment?

Krena had grown much stronger than Carlova had expected, and he suspected that Allen was involved somehow.

“Thank you—haah—very much—haaah—sir... Let’s do this again...tomorrow,” Krena replied, equally out of breath.

“I’m sure we will... Oh right. Krena, Allen.”

Just as everyone was about to head back into the school building for homeroom, something came to Carlova’s mind and he called the two back.

“What is it, sir?” Allen asked.

“The headmaster wants to see all the members of your party. After homeroom’s over, go to his office.”

＊ ＊ ＊

With afternoon practicals and end-of-day homeroom over, the No-life Gamers headed to one of the other buildings on campus where the headmaster’s office was located. Carlova led the way, eventually coming to a stop before a door that he then announced was their destination. When the group walked inside, however, the headmaster was nowhere to be found.

“Tch. So that’s how it’s gonna be. You, stay here and wait for me to get back.” Carlova went back out to look for the headmaster. Given the way he had clicked his tongue while talking about an actual member of the Rohzenheim royal family, he clearly did not care much about authority.

The students waited on the sofa inside the office. Before long, Carlova returned and told them that the headmaster would be along soon. While he waited with them, the teacher asked, “So, how was the Rank A dungeon?”

“It was massive, so I’m glad we finished it before school resumed,” Allen replied. “Honestly, the traps were a lot more trouble than the monsters were.”

“Interesting. Well, what’s next? Y’all got the clearance card, right?”

“For now, we’re hoping to finish the other three Rank A dungeons here in Academy City within a year. Then we’ll find the last one somewhere else in Ratash.”

“Hot damn! So you’re aimin’ to get into the Rank S dungeon while you’re still in school?!”

Hmm? Carlova sounds really excited about it. Ahh, he’s not really questioning our plans; he must simply love dungeon crawling. I can see the former adventurer in him oozing out.

The No-life Gamers had already discussed and agreed to this particular goal. It had taken them four months to clear their first Rank A dungeon , so the simple math meant they could expect to finish three more within one year. However, they were hoping to make the most of their spring break in March next year to try and shorten this to ten months. That way, they would be done within the school year and thus be able to dedicate both months of next year’s summer break to that last Rank A dungeon located elsewhere in Ratash.

“Sorry for the wait.” As the headmaster came into his office, he briefly apologized for his absence, then settled into another one of the sofas. “I called all of you here because I heard you have cleared a Rank A dungeon. So, I was hoping to discuss the Martial Arts Tournament with you.”

“What would that be, sir?” I don’t remember ever hearing about such an event.

Noticing Allen’s look, the headmaster explained, “Well, it’s usually not relevant to first-year students since they’re unable to participate. I imagine that’s why Carlova hasn’t mentioned it to your class before.”

This was an event that took place every year in October at the school’s arena. Contestants were usually second- and third-year students who, as could be expected from the name of the event, possessed Talents related to fighting with swords, axes, spears, bare fists, and the like. The format was single-elimination, starting off with a hundred contestants in preliminaries who would then be whittled down to the final sixteen. The last one to remain standing would, of course, be the tournament champion. There would be one day for the preliminaries and one day for the finals.

Only a hundred participants when there are three thousand students in each grade? That’s not a lot, to put it mildly.

“Members of the royal family and foreign dignitaries will also be in attendance.”

“Oh, wow.”

“Which brings us back to the beginning. I was thinking of having you two, Allen and Krena, take part in this tournament.”

The sudden invitation from the headmaster prompted both a cheer from Krena and bewilderment from Allen at the same time.

“I’m sorry, sir?”

“Do you have a question?”

“Sir, why me? Did you mean to invite Dogora instead?”

“This tournament is a bit beyond Dogora at his current strength. All participants need a recommendation, and I don’t think we can give him one just yet.”

They’re keeping their standards pretty high, I see. So a first-year with only a one-star Talent can’t quite make it.

“My Attack is only ‘E,’ though,” Allen pointed out. “How could I be more suitable for the tournament than Dogora?”

Allen was aware that he was specced for support and that fighting with a weapon was not his strong suit.

“The use of skills is allowed in this tournament. You can use your abilities as a Summoner as much as you want.”

Is he inviting me because he wants to see Summoning in action? He did ask for a demonstration back during my entrance exam too, where I showed him Mousey.

Allen would never hesitate if he had to do something for the sake of someone close to him or to pay back a debt. Conversely, he would never do anything he had no interest in or thought was meaningless. And it just so happened that he thought fights between players—commonly called PVP, which stood for “player versus player”—was the most pointless thing in games. He was completely fine with fighting for the sake of training or leveling up, but the way he saw it, fighting for any other reason was utterly fruitless—he subscribed to the maxim “nothing comes of PVP.” Naturally, this sentiment of his extended to tournaments, which were practically established on the concept of people fighting each other.

“I’m sorry, sir. My abilities are truly nothing incredible. Certainly not anything that would warrant giving me priority over my upperclassmen, who’ve worked so hard to get to where they are.”

“What if I told you that the winner gets the chance to have a match with Sword Lord Dverg.”

“That sounds like a wonderful opportunity. I can’t wait to see just how well Krena would fare against a Sword Lord active in the field.”

It’d serve as a good point of reference for how strong Krena is currently and how much further she can grow.

“How well Krena fares, is it? So, you insist on not participating?”

“I can if you want me to, sir, but I’ll lose in the first round. I don’t really have anything to gain, do I?”

Carlova and the other members of the No-life Gamers were also listening to this exchange between Allen and the headmaster. Carlova, for one, seemed to appreciate Allen’s attitude as a fellow adventurer. Cecil was sighing as if saying, “This again.” She had seen Allen act this way many times before when he was working for her House.

“So you’d consider it if you had something to gain? Mm, yes. The royal family will be coming as well. If you win, you might just catch their eye.”

“The royal family? You don’t say.”

“That’s right. Now are you interested?”

“Not even a little.”

“I...see. Well, I suppose that’s that.”

Ah, he gave up. I guess he really isn’t going to force me.

“Just out of curiosity, specifically which member of the royal family will be coming?”

“The crown prince, I believe.”

Oh, the crown prince! I really have to get a look at his face.

In the end, Allen turned down the headmaster’s recommendation, and talks proceeded with Krena being the only one of them to participate. Soon, the second week of October arrived, and the crown prince—who had such a history with the No-life Gamers—appeared in Academy City.

＊ ＊ ＊

The Academy Martial Arts Tournament had begun. The preliminaries had finished the day before, reducing the initial one hundred fighters to the top sixteen.

One aim of this tournament was to prove that this Academy was fulfilling its objective of preparing youngsters to fight against the Demon Lord Army. Similar tournaments were held all across the world at the other Academies as well. This was why foreign VIPs were also allowed to come and spectate. Many of these appeared to be secretaries, who could be seen taking notes during the matches.

The finals began at nine in the morning, and the contestant who continuously won until they were the last one standing would be declared the champion. After they won, said champion would then get to duel Sword Lord Dverg.

The tournament proceeded at a brisk pace, and soon Krena found herself facing a hulking older student who also wielded a greatsword.

This arena had spectator stands along its two main sides. Two-thirds of the stands were made up of five thousand students, with the remaining one-third reserved for special viewing boxes for aristocrats—such as the crown prince—and visiting dignitaries. Those wearing obviously expensive clothing had knights standing protectively at their backs.

Allen sent a Bird E up from his seat in the stand, where it flew high into the sky and trained Hawk Eye on the man in the grandiose chair sitting in the middle of all the aristocrats.

So, that’s the crown prince. I’m glad I got a chance to know what he looks like this early on. I don’t see his supposed ten-year-old daughter.

The crown prince appeared to be in his forties, and he had his hair slicked back like a character from a Western TV show. Allen’s first impression was that if he were an actor, he’d be suitable for playing villains. At the moment, he was watching the match while speaking to someone next to him—likely a retainer or a minister.

The match is almost over. Krena’s opponent lasted longer than I’d expected.

“Krena sure has grown a lot,” said the man with hawk-like eyes sitting next to Allen. “She’s pushing that third-year against the ropes.”

“Yes, my lord,” Allen replied.

Allen was currently sitting in the aristocrat seats next to Cecil and the viscount—with full permission from the Academy, of course. It was just last week that Krena’s participation in the tournament had been decided, but when Allen informed Viscount Granvelle of the news through a Bird F, the man had replied that he would attend and hurried to Academy City with Captain Zenof in tow. Hearing that the crown prince, who had masterminded Cecil’s kidnapping, would be present probably worried him.

“Can you believe it?! Ladies and gentlemen! Krena, who’s only a first-year student, has bested Tribelga to win the tournament!!!”

A magic tool blared the commentator’s words throughout the entire arena. Krena’s opponent, who had been the audience favorite to win, had let go of his weapon and was lying spread-eagle on the ground. There was no room for doubt—she had indeed won. Both the student body and aristocrats stirred with astonishment at this outcome. All in all, the match had brought many things to light: how powerful a Sword Lord truly was, how far a Sword Lord could pull ahead compared to other Talents, and just how important of a factor Talent was.

“We’ll now have a short break. When we come back, Sword Lord Dverg will be having an exhibition match with the tournament champion, Sword Lord Krena!”

Krena and her opponent thanked each other and left the stage accompanied by supportive applause and cheering.

The fact that Krena’s weapon was made of hihiirokane when her opponent’s was mithril probably played a part too. Boy, he sure spammed his skills.

Participants were allowed to use their skills in this tournament. However, Krena had only acquired her hihiirokane sword just the other day, so she had refrained from using any skills out of fear of hurting her opponent. She had yet to gain a firm grasp on exactly how much upgrading her weapon had increased her damage output, but she did know it was significant.

“Allen, I won!” Krena called out as she ran toward the group like she was a child coming back from finishing a race on Sports Day.

“Great job out there, Krena.” Allen managed to get out some praise right before those sitting around him began to start heaping their own onto Krena.

Uh, the crown prince is looking our way.

Through the Bird E above, Allen noticed that the man sitting in the highest seat—the one reserved for royalty—was staring in the direction where Krena was happily conversing with her companions. After a short while, he shifted his gaze.

Once the break was over, Allen and the others turned back to observe the stage where the two Sword Lords now stood facing each other.

“Without further ado, here’s the duel between our tournament champion and Sword Lord Dverg! Will he beat back the champion with his overwhelming swordsmanship once again?!”

When the referee announced the start of the match, Dverg addressed Krena appreciatively. “Well done making it this far so soon after learning how to use your first skill.”

“Thank you, sir!”

“You have good companions. Make sure you treasure them.”

“I will, sir!”

Now finished talking, Dverg raised his gleaming black adamantite greatsword high overhead. He murmured under his breath, “I am he who hunts monsters. I am he who buries demons. I am he who brings ruin to Demonic Deities.”

Krena, who had raised her hihiirokane greatsword in response, tilted her head. “I’m sorry, what did you say, sir?”

Ignoring her question, Dverg’s single remaining eye shot open wide as he shouted, “Come, Sword Lord Krena! Throw everything you have at me!”

“Okay!” Krena charged forward in the blink of an eye with her sword still up in the air. However, when she brought down that terrifying blade, it was parried without effort.

“What was that?! I told you to throw everything at me. Why didn’t you use the skill I taught you?!”

“Oof!”

Dverg’s kick caught Krena squarely in her stomach, driving all the air out of her lungs. She bounced on the ground a few times before finally coming to a stop. Allen and his companions inadvertently leaned forward and called out to her, but she kept her eyes on Dverg even as she lay on the ground. This was not an opponent she could afford to look away from. Eventually, she slowly got to her feet, readjusting her grip on her greatsword. The lingering pain from the kick was interfering with her breathing, but she tried to recover in between shuddering coughs.

“What? You done? Then it’s my turn to attack. Brace yourself, Sword Lord Krena!”

For the first time ever, Dverg took the initiative. His initial step forward created a shock wave that sent cracks all across the stone surface of the stage. Krena, who had yet to fully recover, activated a skill to fend him off, but he used his own skills in turn.

Roughly ten minutes later, Krena was on the ground covered with cuts and gashes all over; meanwhile, Dverg peered down at her, almost completely unhurt. The medic team hurried onto the stage to carry off the girl who was bleeding from head to toe. The audience had fallen completely silent at the one-sided beating they had just witnessed.

Allen and his companions hurried to the infirmary and found Krena being tended to by a few healers. Allen pushed through them and immediately used a Frond of Life to bring her back to full health, astonishing the members of the medical team.

Krena opened her eyes. When she met Allen’s gaze, she mumbled regretfully, “I lost, Allen...”

He looked right into her eyes and simply called her name. “Krena.”

“Yeah?”

“Dverg bested you in stats, skills, and equipment, right?”

“Mm-hm, he did.”

Dverg had been superior on all fronts. The difference had been unsurmountable. It did not take a genius to be able to tell that Dverg had never even gotten serious in the match just now.

“In other words...one day, you’ll get at least as strong as that, right?”

Krena’s eyes widened in comprehension. “I see...” she murmured, the fire quickly returning to her eyes. “You’re right. I can!”

No further explanation was needed. If she did not have enough strength at this very moment, she simply had to build herself up. This was exactly what she had been doing all along; nothing had changed. Now, though, she knew just how incredible a Sword Lord could become.

“Let’s work hard so that you can beat him after next year’s Martial Arts Tournament.”

“Sure!”

Thus the curtains closed on the Martial Arts Tournament, with Krena having learned how powerful Sword Lord Dverg was and setting a goal for herself—to defeat him the following year.