Chapter 21 — Genius vs. Muscle

Riding on the momentum created by Remie’s draw in his match with Kerio, the squires of the northern dormitory were in good spirits.

All eyes were now focused on the two contestants standing in the arena.

At last, the two squires were evenly matched, as opposed to the clearly lopsided matchups of the previous three matches.

“Ugh... This is impossible... How could Kerio draw against an opponent like that... B-But! Next up is Rigel, the genius squire! Yes, that’s it! The match just now hardly matters! Our score is still superior! Our victory has not been threatened at all! That’s how it is! THAT’S HOW IT IS! AHAHAHAH! Hahaha....”

Despite his loud declarations, Carnegis was clearly shaken by the unexpected turn of events, and Kerio’s draw. Although he tried to laugh out loud to fix his mood, he could not hide his insecurity.

It would seem that Carnegis, while seeming confident, was actually mentally fragile — at least, if his feud against the northern dormitory, now having been drawn out for more than a decade, was anything to go by.

On the other side of the spectator stands, the squires of the northern dormitory, in turn, entrusted their hopes to Gormus and Queen.

The two were strong — this much the squires understood, drawing from their experiences and daily interactions with them.

However, the enemy was also undeniably strong, being a known contestant who had participated in various sword tournaments to the point of becoming famous.

In a strange twist of fate, the two strongest of the northern dormitory had never participated in such tournaments before.

Gormus was forbidden from participating in such tournaments due to the teachings of his Dojo. It was probably the same for Queen, in addition to geographical difficulties caused by him training on a faraway mountain. Queen’s teacher, who himself was of considerable repute, had apparently become a hermit at some point in time, teaching students in his mountain residence.

The contrast between the two contestants could not be more stark — after all, the eastern dormitory’s contestant was an up-and-rising star of various tournaments.

Unlike the opponents of the second and third matches, who could have been beaten with some degree of hard work, the remaining contestants in the eastern dormitory’s corner were undoubtedly monsters.

Amongst them, Luka, Rigel, and Persil were special.

In the tournaments those three had participated in, they advanced to the finals without fail each and every time, always securing high positions and scores.

Although Kerio and Jerid were somewhat strong in their own class, Rigel and the rest were at least a few levels above that in terms of strength. They were truly fearsome opponents.

It was, however, worth noting that a certain idiot from the northern dormitory did cause one of the three to grovel on the ground, in addition to pummeling him several times... Although she was promptly removed from the field for foul play.

To the squires of the northern dormitory, they were not quite sure if Gormus or Queen was the stronger of the two. However, they believed in them — to be more precise, they believed that Gormus and Queen would be the ones to grasp glory and victory for the northern dormitory.

In the middle of the arena, Gormus and Rigel stared at each other.

One had a rough-cut, intimidating face. The other, while possessing a certain degree of beauty, chose to portray a uniquely detestable expression on his face.

“Kerio is truly a pathetic individual. To think that he would draw with someone like that.”

“That’s Remie’s strategy for you. Those guys trained for two weeks with the goal of defeating their opponents in mind.”

“Hmph. Pointless struggles of the weak. The truly strong are fated to win. Kerio, who ruined our winning streak, was nothing more than a weakling in the end.”

“Have you never heard about the weak defeating the strong?”

“Oh. So you’re saying you’re the weak one?”

“I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough.”

Gormus responded to Rigel’s provocations with a single closed eye, his expression deadpan and serious.

“Mind the chatter, you two!”

Upon hearing the referee’s warning, Gormus apologized politely. Rigel, on the other hand, responded in a casual and dismissive way.

Then, like the squires who came before them, the two raised their wooden swords, entering a ready stance.

Gormus, for his part, adopted a relatively normal stance. However, anyone looking upon his giant body could not help but feel intimidated.

Rigel, on the other hand, turned the left side of his body towards Gormus, holding up his sword as if he were wielding a rapier — a unique stance. As most knights primarily utilized slashing attacks with longswords, Rigel’s form was very strange.

“Begin!”

Just as the referee’s voice rang out, Rigel dashed towards his opponent, quickly closing the distance between them. Without breaking his stance, Rigel unleashed a series of rapid stabs at Gormus, his actions strikingly similar to that of a fencer.

Holding his sword before him horizontally, Gormus defended against the stabs and thrusts.

Without warning, Rigel changed his stance once again, this time holding his sword with both hands like a knight normally would. He swung his sword up from the ground in an arc, his blade almost touching the ground as he did so.

(Shallow... No power. A feint?)

Although it seemed like the blow was targeted at Gormus’ chin, it did not take more than a single look for any spectator to realize that it did not have enough reach.

Deciding not to dodge as a result, Gormus was unceremoniously surprised by the sword’s sudden change in trajectory and reach. It would seem that Rigel had stretched out his body, and without Gormus noticing, changed to a single-handed stance, changing the path of his attack.

(Tch!)

The blow nearly missed Gormus, almost scraping past his skin as he bent back to dodge it. A normal human being would have lost most of their attacking power and momentum, having undertaken such unorthodox movements.

However, Rigel’s attack had significant speed and power to it, and the blade narrowly missed his opponent’s face.

Utilizing the weight and momentum of his sword, Rigel did a pirouette, almost as if he were dancing, launching a horizontal slash at Gormus as he did so.

Gormus’ balance and stance, having been compromised by his dodging, made it seem like the large squire wavered.

To the spectators present, it would seem like this was the end for Gormus — however, he instead swung his sword arm, deflecting Rigel’s blade with his own. A near-impossible feat, given that Gormus was not in a stance or position to muster any strength in his swing.

As the two blades clashed, the much lighter Rigel flew backwards, once again placing considerable distance between the two contestants.

Rigel, however, did not seem too worried at all.

“Heh. So you’ve got some power to you... And you’re not as slow as I thought. How odd — I assumed you were just a brawny idiot obsessed with strength. Allow me to offer you some praise. Alas, your skills are nothing more than that of a commoner.”

Rigel’s “praise” was nothing short of condescending — Gormus was very much aware of this.

“Well, I have to deal with a particular nimble idiot during training every day. Even if I hate it, I’m going to learn to move fast eventually.”

Readying himself once more, Gormus held his sword in his hands.

Regarding Gormus with a predatory gaze, Rigel smiled, much as a cat would smile at a captive rat.

“Ha. Fine then. Let me show it to you. My finishing technique... Dance of Illusions!”

With that announcement, Rigel’s steps were energized with a strange motion.

As if he were dancing, Rigel moved from left to right. His strange movements confused the viewer — quick movements appeared slow, and what appeared to be rapid motions were in fact slow and deliberate.

Rigel’s movements, which had become hard to observe, were also unpredictable — in fact, there now appeared to be two of him, his series of movements and dance steps apparently causing an optical illusion.

“Th-That’s the Dance of Illusions!!” said one of the squires from the northern dormitory.

“D-Dance of Illusions?!”

“Yeah. It’s Rigel’s trump card. With his hypnotizing steps and rhythm, Rigel confuses his opponent, dodging his attacks. Normally, there’s no way you can move like that, but that guy’s a genius, so...”

The squire had apparently attended the same dojo as Rigel did, hence his familiarity with the maneuver.

“I’ve been hit with that once before... I couldn’t land a single blow on him. More accurately... I didn’t even think I could land a single blow...”

As the youth said, Gormus had completely stopped, and was not even attacking.

Assuming that even Gormus could not stand up to this special move, the squire’s hearts were filled with despair.

“Dammit! Gormus, you have to win! Do something!”

“Yeah... When in doubt, attack! Attack! Hit him in the face!”

As if they were trying to shake off their own despair, the squires cheered irresponsibly, trying to goad Gormus into attacking.

“They’re cheering for you, aren’t they? Well? Are you not going to attack?” said Rigel as he continued his dance steps. The steps were by no means simple — in fact, if a normal person had attempted those movements, they would have tripped over themselves a long time ago.

“Let me warn you... Random swings won’t hit me. Don’t even think about getting lucky. These steps you see are merely a subconscious movement... It isn’t difficult for me to change the direction I’m dodging instantly. Also, this technique... Everyone misunderstands, thinking it’s defensive—” With a single breath, Rigel closed the distance between them, all the while maintaining his illusory steps with a condescending smile splashed across his features. “But it can be used to attack as well!”

With a series of unpredictable movements and speed, Rigel moved right, then left, then up and down — almost simultaneously, before swinging his sword at his target.

It seemed like four copies of Rigel had attacked Gormus all at once, with the latter being forced into focusing on defense.

“G-Gormus...”

“Is it over...?”

Even the rowdy cheering squires had now fallen quiet, their faces pale.

Remie, whom Gormus had watched over during his match, could only clasp his hands together and whisper, as if in prayer.

“Gormus... Don’t give up!”

As he continued his multi-directional assault, Rigel could not help but laugh.

“In the end, you are nothing more than a brute, winning against equally lousy, third-rate opponents with power alone! Technique! Talent! Intuition! Speed! You cannot hope to match up to me in all those traits, for I am a genius! You will never win!!”

Suddenly realizing that he could receive a warning for too much chatter, Rigel changed up the rhythm of his steps even more, this time silencing his steps, becoming quiet to a point where he could easily erase his presence.

“I will put you out of your misery here and now!”

Gormus, who had been forced into defense, had unwittingly created a blind spot. Noticing this, Rigel struck out, aiming for Gormus’ lower right torso. Gormus did not seem to have noticed Rigel’s movements — his eyes were hardly keeping up with Rigel’s steps. It was the perfect place to end it.

After all, Rigel’s instinct was never mistaken.

Guiding his steps into a perfect axis, Rigel thrust his sword into the unguarded blind spot that Gormus himself seemed unaware of, and unleashed a fatal stab at his opponent — or at least, he thought he did.

Rigel could not believe what he was seeing — a wooden sword was slowly but surely advancing in his direction.

Moving his right leg on pure reflexes alone, Rigel barely dodged the blow.

“Kuh!”

The unreasonable dodging maneuver that Rigel was forced to take messed up his rhythm, causing him to retreat in a panic.

(What...?!)

Rigel did not understand what had just happened.

It was too strange. He had perfectly launched a stab into Gormus’ blind spot. There was no way Gormus could possibly guard against his attack — much less launch one of his own.

Maintaining his distance, he continued looking at Gormus, stunned.

Gormus’ eyes, however, were locked onto Rigel.

“Why the surprised face? We’re evenly matched, aren’t we? It’s a simple misdirection, misleading your opponent with your gaze. Nothing more than basic strategy.”

With the same calm expression he had at the beginning of the match, Gormus delivered his lines.

“Frankly speaking, you’re not all that, are you.”

“What?!” Rigel flew into a rage at Gormus’ words.

After all, he had been touted as a genius since a young age — he was nothing like the peasants around him.

Gormus, however, had just simply announced that he wasn’t “all that.”

Determined to not let the muscle-bound idiot before him return to the stands unharmed, Rigel once again started his dance steps, aiming to go on the offensive.

With his misleading movements, Rigel attempted to close the distance between them, before landing a solid slash on his opponent.

Gormus’ sword, however, had something else in mind — his blade was already snaking towards Rigel’s position. Panicked, Rigel jumped backwards, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

(Impossible... How can his attacks come close to hitting me?!)

In all his matches up to this point, Rigel had not experienced anything like it. More precisely, however, he had experienced it once — during the Orstoll Youth Sword Tournament Finals.

“You don’t have the monstrous strength of Queen. If anything, taking account for your basics and personal strength, you are right about where I am. However... your fighting style is far too smug. You have no room to observe your opponent, let alone come up with tactics for victory.”

Saying so, Gormus rushed his opponent, swinging his sword as he did so.

Rigel avoided the attack with his usual dance-like steps. After all, he would not be hit with such a haphazard attack — however, Gormus swung his sword once more, this time on the spot where Rigel had landed on after evading his first blow.

Panicking once more, Rigel stopped Gormus’ blade with his own.

“Kuh... Why...?! How...?”

His movements were supposed to be unreadable. No opponent should be able to stop him. However, Gormus’ attacks fully suggested that his movements were being perfectly read.

With an exasperated expression, Gormus responded.

“Why? What do you mean, ‘Why?’ Did you think that just because I would miss, I wouldn’t attack? That’s the complete opposite. I was only wary about your attacks. My friends gave their all in their matches to hand their momentum to me. I don’t want to irresponsibly take risks and lose. I was nervous, all right. But then... I’ve discovered that I can defend against your attacks just fine.”

With a few decisive steps, Gormus was before his opponent once more, leveling a second blow at Rigel. This attack, too, was aimed at where Rigel would dodge to.

Rigel, now drenched in sweat, could only block Gormus’ attacks with all his strength.

“If you’re asking about me reading your movements... I’ve read them from the very beginning. Now that I’m not worried about losing to you at all... I can attack without holding back.”

As if to prove his point, Gormus’ next attack once again accurately predicted where Rigel would dodge.

“I’ll have you know that in our dormitory, there’s a guy who’s even better than you at dodging... Although he’s also an idiot who got dragged off the field for foul play during a duel spectated by all the knight-captains.”

Rigel did not understand Gormus’ words at all. However, he did understand the brute force behind Gormus’ strangely accurate attacks, pinning him down as he frantically blocked it with his sword.

The heavy blow caused Rigel’s feet to move backwards. Rigel, who was now thoroughly intimidated by Gormus’ power, was obviously trying to escape.

To the escaping Rigel, Gormus swung, landing yet another attack on Rigel’s sword. The impact of the blow destabilized Rigel’s evasive stepping, creating an opening in his defenses.

Having figured out the trick behind Rigel’s movements, Gormus aimed not for Rigel, but for a spot a little to his side, with the aim of crushing Rigel’s balance once and for all.

“N-No...!” Having lost all confidence in his evasive abilities, Rigel guarded Gormus’ feint, the impact finally breaking his stance.

Gormus was not kind enough to let this opportunity slide.

“Too bad for you, ‘genius!’”

For a second, Gormus’ rough features lit up with a truly threatening grin.

Tensing every muscle in his body, Gormus, calculating for Rigel’s intended trajectory, swung his blade, much like the trunk of a great, savage tree.

“The thing is... I’M JUST THIS STRONGGGGGGGGGGGG!”

Gormus’ attack, carrying the entire weight of his giant body, smashed into Rigel.

In that split second, a dull sound could be heard — and then with that one simple strike, Rigel’s body soared up and above into the air.

The launched Rigel, having lost his consciousness halfway through his unfortunate flight, landed with a thud, unable to get up.

Refusing to rest on his laurels, Gormus walked up to the unconscious Rigel, checking for signs of life. Satisfied, he pointed his sword up skywards, flexing his other arm in a muscle-man pose.

“The winner of this match is... Gormus!”

After this announcement, the fading echo of the referee’s voice was drowned out by a huge wave of cheers from the northern dormitory’s spectator stands.

“I-Impossible...” Carnegis could only stare blankly at the duel results. “Rigel... THE Rigel... lost?!”

Rigel, having been sent flying by Gormus’ single blow, was lying on the ground of the arena, unmoving.

The referee, announcing that Gormus had won the match, awarded the match point to the northern dormitory.

It was a scene that beggared belief.

Persil, Rigel, and Luka were all the cream of the crop of this year’s members, and Carnegis had chosen them personally. Their combined results and strength both pointed towards them being the strongest three squires of their generation.

Before becoming a squire, Rigel was in the best four of his class, and Luka was the second runner-up. They had both lost to their opponents — and they were by no means weak.

Luka had been defeated by foul play, and despite the match point having been awarded to them, Luka had lost. Rigel, however, had been defeated by Gormus fair and square.

Gormus...

Although he had heard of Gormus’ strength, he was not picked due to a lack of tournament results. In fact, he was at a risk of looking bad due to the other side not having a single tournament winner.

To Carnegis, Gormus, whose performance and movements at the Squire Test were unsatisfactory, was judged to be a power-only contestant.

However, upon seeing today’s match, Carnegis realized this could not be further from the truth. He had been able to put up a spirited defense, and then shifted fully into attack as Rigel lost his confidence, ending the match with a solid power blow.

In terms of basics, he was by no means weaker than Rigel. While Gormus had more power, Rigel had more speed and better technique.

However, their match resulted in Gormus’ one-sided victory. Of his three champions, Persil, Rigel, and Luka, one of them had been defeated.

Before he knew it, the score was 2 wins, 1 loss, 1 draw. Looking at the results alone, the two dormitories were almost evenly matched. If the results for the final match were taken into account, it would seem like the eastern dormitory could only manage a stalemate at best.

“Why... Why did it come to this...!” Carnegis’ nightmare had once again come back to life.

Ever since that incident, he had been plagued by bad luck, unable to advance in his career or find a girlfriend he could keep for more than a few days. In fact, he had even taken to drowning his sorrows in alcohol.

Although he had joined the eastern dormitory’s staff with revenge in mind, even if his team did win in the first year, it would lose in the second or third year as the other squires caught up.

This was why he had done everything in his power to assemble the strongest members he could this year.

Even so... He was now forced to bank it all on the final match between the generals. Should the northern dormitory win that match, it would all end.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this... Why?! What is this...?!” Carnegis, terrified by the prospect of losing to the northern dormitory, began shaking.

After all, this entire duel was supposed to have been guaranteed.

To begin with, the other side only had two strong members — he had five. If he were to pair his champions with the opposing dormitory’s three no-name squires, it would definitely result in three wins.

Even if something had happened then and there, he had three aces in his sleeve — the supposed three strongest squires in their generation. They should have no trouble winning even when matched with a strong opponent — at least, that was what he thought.

However, Rigel had lost.

The next match...

To Carnegis, Queen was an unknown.

He was the student of master swordsman Zeiness, who was once said to be the strongest swordsman in Orstoll. In more recent days, he had been tasked with teaching the royal family the way of the sword. Although that did catch Carnegis’ eye, Queen had no tournament results.

Even so, he had arranged for Queen’s transfer into the eastern dormitory.

Matching him up with Luka for an entrance test, Carnegis was pleased that Queen was able to defeat him in an instant — his judgment had not failed him.

However, the very same Queen soon requested to transfer to the northern dormitory. Although he had tried to stop him, Queen made repeated requests to the squire affairs department and eventually received approval for his transfer.

Carnegis did not know who would come out on top in a fight between Persil and Queen.

In other words, there was no guarantee of victory in this final battle between the generals of both sides.

“No... it should be fine. Persil is the third consecutive winner of the Orstoll Youth Sword Tournament. Amongst the three, he is the strongest! It’s fine! It’s totally f-fine!” Carnegis, now pale and terrified at the prospect of losing, was now trying to mask his fear by shouting, albeit somewhat incoherently.

“Yes! We can win! With these members, I will definitely win! I’ll definitely break that triple defeat nightmare! I’m going to live my second life, full of color and vibrance! GO! GO FORTH, PERSIL! Defeat those fools from the northern dormitory... Eh? Persil?”

By the time Carnegis had started instructing Persil, the latter was already gone from the spectator stands. The other squires, not saying a thing to Carnegis, could only look on as Persil walked out onto the arena grounds.

“Finally... it’s their side’s general...”

The youths of the northern dormitory collectively whispered to each other upon the sight of Persil.

Queen, having had his back slapped by all of his comrades, was slowly walking out to the arena himself.

“Hey... who do you think is the stronger of the two, Queen or Persil?”

“H-How am I supposed to know...?”

The squires did want to know, however — to them, this was perhaps more important than the outcome of the duel itself.

Persil — the squire said to be the strongest in their generation, and the same squire that won every single tournament he had participated in.

Queen — the squire who was once the disciple of Orstoll’s strongest swordsman, Zeiness, and the same squire who had caused a stir when he enrolled into the Royal Knights.

Under normal circumstances, the two, said to be the absolute strongest amongst all the squires, would have had no opportunity to fight.

To a certain extent, that was also the eastern dormitory’s goal. With their first aim being the defeat of the northern dormitory, there was no meaning in Persil fighting Queen in the first place.

This was also evident in the eastern dormitory’s training curriculum — when Queen was still at the eastern dormitory, tournament winners would usually engage in mock battles with each other, albeit not at a very high frequency. The reason for this was simple: the other side’s only strong contender was Gormus.

Queen, however, announced that Persil was the strongest amongst them during his time there, having felt his strength one way or another.

“Is this Persil that strong?” asked Gormus, who did not have much knowledge of Persil.

“Yes, if I had to say, he’s probably the strongest defense-type contestant in our entire generation of squires,” Remie answered.

“Of course, he also excels at counter tactics and other maneuvers, making him a well-rounded opponent... But what really stands out is his defensive capability. It makes you feel like he can’t lose — similarly... It makes you feel like no matter what you do, he would win.”

“So... the exact opposite of Queen, huh.”

The last match of the inter-dormitory duel was a focal point for all youths who had aspirations in the sword. It was a match they could not miss — a battle amongst the two strongest squires of their generation, and the decisive battle between the northern and eastern dormitories.

All the youths could do was swallow their breaths and watch on in silence.

Their eyes converged on the standoff between a brown-skinned, blonde-haired youth, and his opponent, a bespectacled youth with black hair.

One was serious. The other was also serious, but above all else, seemed emotionless.

Queen may have been a little shorter than his opponent. However, Persil wasn’t exactly much taller.

The two youths of somewhat similar height held up their swords and stood facing each other.

At last, the final, decisive match in the inter-dormitory duel was about to begin.