7-8 The Matches Begin

I told the ambassador, Count Marius, that I had taken a new rare visitor into protective custody, and that the Empire had probably been targeting the technology behind that decorative picture-work as well.

I also told him that, for now, there was no risk of the Empire misusing rare-visitor technology.

And then I informed him—though it wasn’t legal—that I would use teleportation magic to bring Aoi-chan back to the Albatross Kingdom and keep her under my direct protection.

That was the most important part.

Even if we said we were “protecting” a rare visitor, even the King had the nation’s survival on the line.

I couldn’t allow her to be pressured into anything, so I couldn’t place her in royal custody at the palace right now.

After that, I took her to the Beast-Ear Garden, introduced her to Ars and Ed, and had Erin stay with her.

By now, we had reinforced security with quite a few C-rank adventurers as guards, so assigning Erin there wouldn’t be a problem.

And we also had Ars, an S-rank.

Besides, the A-rank exam was about to start.

I didn’t have time to go all the way to the King because of Aoi-chan.

So I just stopped by the embassy quickly first.

The ambassador would notify the Kingdom.

After thoroughly fluffing the kids’ heads, I headed to the Empire via teleportation magic.

The first match started at nine, so I still had thirty minutes.

You’re supposed to go to the waiting room thirty minutes before your scheduled bout.

Judging by the posted bracket, Antonio’s match was still a ways off.

In the meantime, I tried calling Antonio.

He said he wanted to talk in person.

Huh? Something must have happened.

There were eight arenas, with one assigned to each block.

The venue was open-air, with tiered spectator seats surrounding it.

It seemed the barrier was properly in place, though.

Each match lasted about ten to fifteen minutes, and in my league they held four matches per hour.

There were twenty-three preliminary matches and three main-tournament matches.

With a lunch break in between, it should end around sixteen hundred.

Well, that was if nothing happened—but today probably wouldn’t be that kind of day.

Since one block was split into two, the twenty-five participants were divided into twelve and thirteen.

They alternated between the right and left sides, and Antonio was on the left—within the group of twelve—third bout from the outside.

Since both sides advanced matches from the outside inward, and the right side started first, Antonio’s would be the sixth match.

He would probably head to the waiting room around nine forty.

There was still over an hour.

And the moment we met, Antonio said this.

“On the way here this morning, an assassin tried to kill me.”

Damn it.

I should have stayed with Antonio instead of doing extra errands.

Still… thank God he was alright.

“I’d been paying too much attention to the matches, so my vigilance slipped. I survived thanks to the barrier pod you had me set up. They came at me with a blowdart coated in poison.”

Hey, assassin.

That attack was cheap.

A barrier pod that could calmly block even powerful missiles was probably crying over the insult.

Still, a silent poisoned blowdart can’t be underestimated for assassination work.

Even the U.S. military has used blowdarts in operations to quietly take out sentries.

And it takes real practice to land shots with them.

“Well, now they know we’ve noticed you’re being targeted, so they probably can’t use that method again. Even they won’t think the same trick will work twice on House Orston, with its warrior pride. Be careful after your first match. If I were them, I’d strike then.”

“Yeah. I’ll be careful.”

“But that’s exactly why that moment is the real sweet spot. Next time, an unexpected attack from a different angle!”

“Hey!”

“Idiot, I’m not joking. Given the situation, it wouldn’t be surprising at all. The Empire is seriously trying to kill you right now.”

“……Understood. I’ll take it to heart.”

“For now, focus on your match. But after the first match, don’t let your guard down for a second. Switch gears. If you want to live.”

After that, I checked the radar for suspicious people.

Tch.

There were too many—it was hard to tell what was what…

So this was what an A-rank exam looked like when you observed it properly.

I hadn’t noticed back when it was my turn.

Well, my time had been a carefree entry in the Albatross Kingdom, while Antonio’s situation—being hunted in the Empire—was completely different.

Which one should I hunt first?

For now, I poured about one quintillion MP’s worth of killing intent into only the red dots.

I packed it with a fierce command: “Disappear.”

It looked like all of them collapsed.

That saved me the trouble of hunting them down.

The red dots vanished from the radar, but strangely, they didn’t turn gray.

Seriously—always getting in the way.

If anything, I’d prefer they all turned gray and dropped dead.

Did I unconsciously hold back?

Damn it, I’m too soft.

I erased my presence and stayed on guard in the waiting room.

I had camera pods floating inside the waiting room too.

I had already infiltrated every waiting room in advance, so I could barge in at any time via teleportation magic.

I waited, irritated.

If you’re coming, then hurry up and come.

I’m the impatient type—absolutely not cut out for fishing.

You’re going to lay a hand on my… my Beast-Ear Garden?

You’re going to attack children?

Hey, Your Imperial Majesty.

You’re nothing but a dictator of some backward, medieval-looking empire.

This is why I’ve always hated dictators.

Earth has plenty of worthless countries like this too, sure.

But I’ve decided, Emperor.

And you too, Second Prince Sharion.

You’re guilty—both of you.

You will die, no matter what.

I will protect those kids.

Don’t underestimate me.

How many ideas do you think I have for turning modern weapons into magic tools?

On top of that, I have internet access, and I’ve got production-specialist skills from my manufacturing background.

I came from Japan, the rare-visitor nation—specifically from the manufacturing super-specialized core area some people call “Japan’s Detroit,” you know?

You’ve pushed me too far.

I’ll never forgive you.

In the end, I held out and waited for quite a while, but no one came.

Hmph.

And then, as I was doing that, Antonio’s first match began.

His opponent was… I would never forget him—that damned old bastard.

The assassin grandpa from my match, the one who mocked me and ran away by surrendering!

‘I’m warning you, Antonio—he’s a dangerous assassin. He’ll probably try to take you out during the match too. Don’t hold back—hit him with that immediately.’

I sent Antonio that telepathic message.

And right at the start of the match, it detonated.

Before the old man could begin his troublesome assassin movements.

As expected of a family that could wield magic armor—he understood how vital the opening move was in a duel.

And it beautifully landed, relentlessly tracking the old man as he desperately dodged and tried to flee.

Idiot.

How’s an anachronistic old fossil like you supposed to beat modern weapons—missiles?

Ahh, Antonio already won.

The referee declared Antonio the victor.

If it were me, I’d have tormented him on the spot.

A family with warrior pride is even softer than I am.

Yes—I had mounted “that” as the warhead on a homing missile spell.

The huge wind spell, five meters in diameter—the big one I couldn’t land last time, the one that had made my shoulder tremble.

If you mount it on a missile spell, you can’t tell what the spell even is.

It’s a surprise after impact.

All they’ll know is that some kind of magic is chasing them.

And once a spell is fired, surrender won’t help—they can only run.

If he’d known in advance what was inside, he might’ve surrendered immediately.

If he took that head-on, even that veteran old assassin probably died.

Alright.

Now the real fight begins.

Will the assassins come?

Antonio—those guys are my prey.