Chapter 62

It may have looked like I won that first match with ease, but that wasn’t exactly the case. The main reason for my smooth victory was simply that my opponent didn’t know about my “Staff Arts” and grew careless.

Usually, I’m not particularly skilled with a bow, sword, or spear. I’ve become a bit stronger thanks to Lady Clara’s training, but at most, I’m at the level of an average soldier. Commander Beckle and her lot had probably watched my training sessions beforehand and knew that. That’s why they were overconfident. They believed they could beat someone like me without breaking a sweat, and I was able to exploit that opening.

But the real challenge starts now. The enemy won’t be underestimating me anymore.

…Still, the “Staff Arts” skill turned out to be even more excellent than I expected. Even the Vice-Captain match that I’d been worried about ended safely in my favor. I landed a single strike on the opponent’s instep, and they lost their fighting spirit and crumpled; my victory was decided quite simply.

Holy crap, “Staff Arts / Half-Staff Arts” is incredibly practical. While the skills themselves are subtle, it’s been proven that they can grow, so I’ll have Lady Clara spar with me from now on to raise the quality even further.

Looking back at our side, I saw Hans and the others had returned after finishing his treatment. However, Hans’s complexion looked a bit off.

“What’s wrong? Did the recovery magic not work?”

“No, it’s just… I didn’t know Lord Akito could use recovery magic…”

Ah, so he was just shocked by that. We hadn’t told Hans or Emma that we could use magic. He had been calling him “Mr. Akito” until a moment ago, but he’s already ranked up to “Lord Akito.”

“Keep it a secret, okay? I have no intention of becoming a clergyman,” Yoshioka said.

“Well, Mr. Akito is a Hidden Sage, after all,” Fiene chimed in.

What the heck is that title? Typical Yoshioka.

Finally, it was time for the General’s match. I knew things wouldn’t go as they had before, so I psyched myself up and entered the arena. Commander Beckle was already prepared and waiting.

…The Commander’s aura had changed. Until now, she had the face of a landless knight trying to look good in front of her superiors, but the person standing before me now was a true martial artist facing a battle. Her usual spiteful expression had vanished, and she seemed to be quietly waiting for the match to begin.

This is going to be tough…

The Commander didn’t make the mistake of charging in the moment the signal was given. She measured the distance while moving slowly clockwise. I deliberately threw my body axis off while moving to show an opening on my left shoulder as a lure, but she didn’t bite. She’s being very cautious.

I guess I’ll make the first move.

The combat distance for me and Commander Beckle is different. A staff is effective at a slightly closer range than a spear. Whether or not I can dive into the opponent’s guard will be the key to victory or defeat. And the act of diving into the guard of an armed enemy is terrifyingly daunting.

I’m counting on you, my “Courage x6”!

I repeatedly tested her with feints and strikes, looking for a gap, but Commander Beckle’s solid stance didn’t budge an inch. Furthermore, her power was on a different level; whenever I parried her, my own posture threatened to crumble under the force. Making it to the qualifying finals really wasn’t just for show. The occasional thrusts she sent my way had such speed and weight that it was difficult to fully deflect them.

Because I couldn’t parry them completely, a split-second time lag was created before I could move to the next action. If a series of movements could flow perfectly, I could go into a combo, but we were currently fighting for positioning—each trying to step into a spot where it was easiest to attack. This state of maneuvering like a game of territorial control continued for a while.

Strike, parry, lure, dodge, step in.

As we repeated this cycle, I eventually found myself enjoying the match immensely. For the first time in my life, I felt the joy of fighting a strong opponent. I never knew that the sensation of both body and mind being sharpened while fighting someone close to your own skill level could feel this good! I hadn’t realized it during practice with Lady Clara because she was just too overwhelmingly strong.

And I think Commander Beckle felt the same way. You often see that “talking with your fists” trope in manga; now, I finally understood that feeling. I wanted to keep fighting more, much more, until I had exhausted every single technique I possessed.

But all things must come to an end. The turning point came from a single feint thrown by Commander Beckle.

In high-tension situations, the body can’t help but react to an opponent’s feints. If you fail to distinguish between the truth and the lie of an attack and get baited, your opponent will exploit that opening. But looking at it from another angle, a feint is itself an opening.

As the match dragged on, I noticed that the Captain’s feints were becoming repetitive—mostly mid-level thrusts born of habit. I decided to gamble and time my move to one of those feints.

The moment her mid-level thrust began to retract, I rode the momentum and lunged into her guard. Once I successfully closed that distance without taking a hit, my victory was assured. For a spear user like the Captain, there are almost no methods of attack at point-blank range. I tucked my staff under the Captain’s arm, tripped her, and pinned her to the ground.

“…I yield.”

I had lost track of how long we had been fighting. Looking around, I realized a vast crowd of officers and soldiers had gathered to watch our match. As the fallen Captain tried to get up, I offered her my hand; she didn’t refuse, gripping my palm firmly. I pulled with all my strength to help her to her feet.

“Good match.”

“Yeah.”

With only that brief reply, Commander Beckle turned and headed back to her side. Her face showed frustration, yet there was a certain sense of refreshment there as well. Amidst the thunderous applause filling the arena, I stood there dazed for a while, forgetting even to return to my own team.

…That’s right. I won.

Our momentum continued after that, and we actually managed to clinch the overall victory—though, in truth, only Hans and I were the ones who did any actual fighting. Thanks to that, we received the blue scarves awarded to the winning squad and a cash prize. I suggested we split the bonus among everyone, but Emma and Fiene were hesitant to accept.

“I was the General and didn’t fight a single match. Scarves aside, I would be utterly shameless to take prize money for doing nothing…” Emma protested.

“I already got my own prize money from the archery division, so I’m good,” Fiene added.

“Why don’t you and Hans just split it?”

In that case, why don’t we all go out for a feast? We decided to invite Lady Clara and go as a group. Prices in Dresden are a bit higher than in the provinces, but with 5,000 Marques, the six of us could eat like royalty.

“What should I do? I don’t have any clothes nice enough for a high-end restaurant,” Fiene fretted.

“We’re soldiers, so our uniforms are perfectly fine. We’ll all be wearing ours, too.”

Students and soldiers really have it easy in situations like this. With a clean uniform and the brand-new blue scarf we received today, it makes for a respectable look. While Yoshioka and I have relatively nice clothes for when we’re disguised as merchants, we decided to stick with the uniforms to match the group. Lady Clara and Emma, however, changed into travel clothes befitting nobles. It was my first time seeing Emma in a skirt; it suited her surprisingly well. She looked about 15% cuter than usual.

Winter luxury in the capital means seafood. Though Dresden is inland, during this cold season, one can enjoy the bounty of the sea transported up the Reinga River. We feasted on seafood accompanied by plenty of dry white wine.

The next morning, for some reason, we were summoned to the Royal Capital Guard Headquarters. It was a direct summons from the Chief, Viscount Kalburg himself. Did we do something weird?

When we were shown into the office, the Viscount greeted us in high spirits.

“Welcome, Lady Ansbach. And you all behind her—you did excellent work yesterday. I was watching the matches, and it was a truly impressive display.”

Thank goodness. I was worried we were in trouble for something, but it didn’t seem to be the case.

“I’ve asked you here to assign you a special mission. This request comes from General Basch, who observed yesterday’s exhibition.”

“Sir! We await your orders,” Clara replied.

“Hmph. I want you all to serve as the escort for the Saint of Grossel.”

A Saint’s escort? Are we being drafted for a Demon King subjugation or something?

“I am well aware of Lady Ansbach’s valor, and yesterday’s exhibition proved that your attendants are equally capable. For the escort of a Saint, a group with several women like yours is the perfect fit.”

I didn’t quite grasp the gravity of it, but Emma looked absolutely thrilled. Is guarding a Saint really that big of a deal? Still somewhat confused by the situation, we were instructed to head to a mansion in the noble district to pick up the Saint.