The Gaun Grand Arena match stage.
The time for the first match of the Final Tournament, Kelvin versus the Beast King Leonhart, has arrived. However, neither of them has appeared yet.
“Hmmph… It’s almost time, but the two participants haven’t entered the arena,” Jereol commented.
“Indeed. Father and Kelvin might be taking their time with preparations until the last moment. In Father’s last match against Kelvin’s younger sister, Lyon, he won in a less than honorable way. Kelvin, who dotes on Lyon, must be furious. It’s highly likely he’ll be aiming for a painful retaliation.” Yujil explained.
“On the other hand, Father must be aware of that too. He’s not the type to let things slide and be retaliated against,” Gerard added.
“Oh ho ho! Thank you for the commentary, Lord Jereol and Yujil. It seems the battle has already begun before the match even started! —Oh?” Ronove exclaimed.
Just then, footsteps were heard from the player entrance. It was Kelvin.
“First, Kelvin makes his entrance! His weapon is, as always, a longsword… Hmm?”
As Kelvin stepped onto the stage, Ronove noticed something flying in rapidly from the entrance, following closely behind him. Not one or two, but dozens, perhaps even a hundred. They arced through the air and pierced the stage on Kelvin’s side.
“W-What is this… Black swords!?”
What pierced the stage were colossal swords, as black as Kelvin’s black robes, and seemingly larger than life. They were a horde of Dark Black Swords, so imposing that Kelvin’s arena sword paled in comparison.
“It’s not against the rules, is it? They’re all support magic that I generated before the match,” Kelvin stated.
“U-Uwah, that’s certainly true, but…” Ronove stammered.
“Kukuku. It’s not a problem by the rules. However, to use them so brazenly is unprecedented since the start of the Beast King Festival,” Gerard remarked.
“Ronove-san, it seems Father has arrived too,” Yujil said, his gaze still not meeting Ronove’s, but he seemed to have grown accustomed to addressing him normally. Looking at the other entrance, a human shadow indeed appeared.
“Now, Leonhart enters the arena! And this time, his appearance is—”
Under the sunlight pouring into the arena, the Beast King Leonhart’s form was revealed.
“Master, I look forward to this match,” a voice said.
“M-Maid! It’s a maid!” someone exclaimed.
The Beast King’s transformed form was Efil, clad in her usual maid outfit. Her dignified posture, the affectionate gaze directed at her master, her physical characteristics, and even her mannerisms were identical. And just like last time, she carried no weapons, fighting with bare hands.
“That’s Kelvin’s party member, the archer,” someone noted.
“‘Bomb Princess,’ is it? I see. I’ve heard she’s been with Lord Kelvin for a long time. Father, he’s up to something again…” Gerard mused.
“T-This is going to be a wild one!” Ronove sputtered.
Amidst Ronove and the others’ excited chatter, Kelvin and the Beast King had already taken their starting positions.
“…This time, you’re in Efil’s form, are you not? Is it acceptable to not wield a weapon?” Kelvin asked.
“Please don’t worry about it. And you don’t need to use honorifics. I am merely your Master’s slave,” the Beast King replied.
The Beast King closed her eyelids and placed a hand on her chest. She spoke without hesitation, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“I see. Then I have nothing more to say,” Kelvin responded.
“Understood. Let us have a good match,” the Beast King declared.
“…It seems the preparations are complete. Thank you for waiting, everyone. This is officially the first match of the Final Tournament! The match— Begins!” the announcer declared.
The declaration of the match’s start. Efil, the Beast King, opened her eyes and slowly approached Kelvin.
“Master, as your Master’s maid, I—”
—*Whiz!*
A black sword, accompanied by a fierce wind, shot towards the Beast King’s head. She narrowly dodged it, but a red line of blood appeared on her cheek, and the colossal sword embedded itself with considerable force into the stage.
“Hey, hey, don’t dodge. You won’t be able to crush his head that way,” Kelvin taunted.
“…”
The Beast King’s eyes sharpened for a moment at Kelvin’s words, but she quickly returned to Efil’s gentle expression.
“As expected of you, Master. You don’t let being a mere slave getting cut down disturb your mind,” she said.
“Haha, no, no. You are the Beast King, not Efil. Even if you mimic her appearance and mannerisms, you are still a fake. Well, there are subtle differences too,” Kelvin countered.
“…Magnificent,” the Beast King murmured.
The Beast King hid both her hands behind her waist, a posture that, to some, looked like a cute pose of a waiting girl with her hands clasped behind her back.
“It was quite effective against Lord Lion, but it seems this trick won’t work on you, Master,” she stated.
“Lyon is a kind child,” Kelvin replied.
“That kindness can become a weakness. Lyon probably understood that intellectually. However, perhaps when my sword approached her neck, your friend’s face, the heavy responsibility of killing a king, your own shallow assumption that this was just a match, all these things ensnared Lyon’s thoughts. Moreover, without time to think, confusion breeds more confusion. I should be grateful this wasn’t a real battle—!”
The Beast King retreated to avoid two more colossal swords that flew towards her.
“I am indeed grateful for that. I am grateful. So, please accept my thanks,” Kelvin said.
Several of the Dark Black Swords embedded in the stage rose into the air, their tips pointed towards the Beast King.
“A breathtaking view,” the Beast King remarked.
“Hurry up and take it out. How long do you intend to keep that up?” Kelvin prompted.
At Kelvin’s remark, the Beast King grinned and brought her hidden hands forward. In her delicate hands, she held enormous, almost as large as Gerard’s Demonic Sword Dainsleif, colossal swords, one in each hand—unadorned, utilitarian Bastard Swords. It was an incongruous sight, Efil’s form wielding such weapons. However, Kelvin didn’t seem to mind and even smiled slightly.
“See, you’re not fighting with bare hands after all. What’s this about not needing to worry?” he said.
“You seemed to desire a battle, Master,” the Beast King replied.
“Is that so? I’m happy to hear that,” Kelvin responded.
A mass of black ink deployed above the arena, and the Dark Black Swords were launched in unison. A deafening roar echoed, and dust clouds billowed up. The audience could no longer see the stage, but Kelvin’s eyes clearly perceived the Beast King, who, parrying the enhanced Dark Black Swords, continued to advance towards him. She wielded two colossal Bastard Swords with effortless ease, sustaining no injuries. Then, with a mighty leap, the maid emerged from the dust cloud, wielding her greatswords.
“Such a fierce assault, even more than a battlefield! It’s exhilarating!” she exclaimed.
“Put on a better act,” Kelvin retorted.
“That is— Excuse me!”
The Bastard Sword was thrown. The greatsword unleashed from the Beast King’s right hand hurtled straight towards Kelvin. Kelvin took a step back, retreating from the impact point, but he noticed something attached to the Bastard Sword embedded in the stage.
(A talisman…?)
Immediately after, a magic circle materialized in a circle around the Bastard Sword. It was clearly emanating from the talisman attached to the blade. The talisman, marked with the kanji ‘封’ (Seal), must have been from Traage. His feet were rooted to the ground as if sewn in, refusing to move. However, Kelvin had an even greater point of doubt. While formulating countermeasures amidst his Parallel Thought, he pondered.
(Is this a decoration the Beast King brought? Wait, the Beast King is still transformed as Efil. …Is this against the rules? No, this is—)
“Are you leisurely contemplating things!?”
The maid, now airborne, readjusted her grip on the remaining Bastard Swords with both hands and struck the stage, Kelvin included, with all her might.
