There was one essential condition for wearing a new color of medal at the Arena. As befitted a place that revered Lepri, goddess of justice and struggle, a fighter had to take part in a duel of its choosing to earn a new medal. Here, everything was decided through duels.

People called that duel a “promotion match.”

“It isn't a difficult duel. You could even call it an opportunity, Little Gladiator. With a silver medal, you'll not only have access to far higher-level duels than before, but the Arena will also pay you an allowance. In other words, you'll be able to make a living as a fighter.”

As the receptionist said, the Silver Medal marked a threshold at the Arena. Just as she had explained, this was an opportunity for me. I could take part in more worthwhile fights—and, above all, choose a new sword from the Hall of Fame to devour...

So I said, “I'd like to hear about the promotion match I'll need to fight to earn a silver medal.”

Refusal was not an option.

The receptionist seemed to have expected that answer.

“Your promotion match will be quite simple, Little Gladiator.”

A subtle gleam appeared in her eyes.

“You don't need to defeat the opposing fighter. Just three minutes.”

“...?”

“All you have to do is survive for three minutes.”

The receptionist held her hand toward me and extended three fingers. The smile she wore as she spoke held more than friendliness. There was something unsettling in it.

“As long as you survive, you'll be wearing a silver medal.”

My suspicious nature read the feeling behind her smile.

It was malice.

Her ordinary appearance, the sort I might see at any guild or inn, had made me forget something that now came back to me. Its name might have changed from the fighting pit of old, but this was still the Arena. A place filled with lunatics hungry for blood and battle.

“It may look a little unsightly, but if you struggle hard enough, it's a manageable length of time.”

I keenly felt the invisible madness that filled the Arena like oxygen. Then Liam spoke.

「Rookie stomping, eh? In our day, we also called it an execution ceremony.」

“...”

「It's a duel where they pit fighters like you, who play it safe and don't put on a rousing fight, against someone overwhelmingly stronger to inflict a dreadful humiliation. You'll keep your life, but your pride will take a serious wound.」

A dreadful humiliation.

I could guess why they had offered a match like this as my promotion trial.

Some spectators at the Arena were genuinely impressed by my victories, but others resented the way I always fought efficiently and won without injury. As my name became a little better known, even my fellow fighters began giving me pointed looks.

As though they wanted to see me utterly crushed someday. As though they wanted to see that haughty little bastard's Needle break, to see him crawl along the ground and beg for his life like a dog.

It was blatant, sinister madness and malice.

The Arena had offered this promotion match to satisfy their desires.

「Young descendant, you may avoid it if you don't want to fight. Those vermin will be satisfied merely knowing you backed out of the duel, and they'll spread malicious rumors.」

“...”

「Another opportunity will come before long. Your skill is too great for a Bronze Medal.」

Liam spoke as though offering comfort.

But he wasn't finished.

「Still, if you avoid this fight, you will also begin avoiding the many difficult battles that lie ahead.」

「To reach the level you seek, you will have to fight many battles. And most of those battles will be against people stronger than you. If you avoid fighting every time, you'll never become tough. Never.」

He was not a kindly master who only told me what I wanted to hear.

Liam was a harsh, realistic, cold master. Like steel—or a sword.

「There is no Caravan in this world who avoids a duel. Caravans become great through battle.」

In truth, I'd heard that so often I was sick of it. I knew already.

My answer to the receptionist's offer had already been decided.

“I'll do it.”

The road ahead of me was still far too long.

There was no time to retreat or turn back. Whatever came, I had to face it head-on.

I would not run away anymore.

* * *

I was told my promotion match would take place on the evening two days from now.

When I returned to the inn, the first thing I checked was my physical condition. Fortunately, I hadn't suffered any injuries in my duels so far. At most, I had a few scratches on my forearms and ankles.

That was thanks to how efficiently I'd fought.

Others might call it sneaky and shitty, but for a fighter who had to keep taking part in duels, it was an eminently sensible approach.

“I think I'm in good condition.”

「I imagine so. Then what should you do next?」

“Now that I know myself, I should know my opponent.”

That was a basic principle of combat.

Facing an unknown enemy was a gamble. If I could learn anything about my opponent, I needed to do so. Only then could I use my specialty—suspicion—to identify weaknesses and picture how I would fight.

「Excellent.」

Liam, too, acknowledged that my approach was sound.

「For a talentless weakling like you, fighting with such thorough preparation is appropriate. I was so great from the beginning that no one could come close to me, so I never used such methods.」

“... Yes, you're very impressive.”

Well, the problem was that he always added something he didn't need to say.

I left my room and ordered a modest meal of bread and soup. As usual, the inn's food tasted appalling. As I soaked the hard, dried-out bread in the horribly bland soup, I heard something I couldn't simply ignore.

“I hear Liam, the Little Gladiator, is going to get utterly crushed in two days.”

“You mean that bastard who wriggles his girly body around like a bug? Heh, I'll have to visit the Arena in two days, then. I couldn't stand the sight of him anyway.”

They were talking about me.

“Shouldn't a fighter face his opponent boldly? But watching him poke away with his blade, with that skinny dancer's body of his... There's no fun in it.”

“I'd love to see him rolling around on the sand, howling like a dog. It'd be even better if they pulled off his helmet and exposed his ugly mug. If I ran into him on the street, I'd beat him half to death.”

Public opinion of me was decidedly poor.

I kept quiet and crunched through the soup-soaked bread. Not because I was scared.

The reason was simple. Conversations like this always had useful information toward the end.

“So who did they say his opponent was?”

“The Black Bride. That bastard's going to get a proper thrashing.”

“You don't even need to watch to know how that'll end.”

The Black Bride.

I already knew the epithet.

The important information would come after it.

“Isn't she that terrifying fighter who graduated from a prestigious academy and hasn't lost once since getting her Silver Medal? I hear she'd be worthy of a Gold Medal, too... An incredible fighter. Even though she's a woman, she's a monster who reached the level of a sword walker before she even turned twenty, isn't she?”

From a drunkard's mouth, I learned valuable information about the fighter who would be my opponent.

And...

「Oh, young descendant. The Arena really is determined to do this.」

“...”

「I believe there was a slightly vulgar expression for the situation you're in.」

Liam spoke with an amused look on his face.

「You're f***ed.」

“You don't need to say it aloud. I know.”

Yes.

I was f***ed.

* * *

An academy.

An educational institution where those who wanted to learn swordsmanship gathered. An elite course pursued by people with exceptional aptitude who wished to become swordsmen. Graduating from an academy alone usually qualified them to become knights, and merely presenting their diploma could grant them easy entry into various organizations.

In other words, they were proven talent.

They learned systematic swordsmanship, gained combat experience according to a curriculum, and were taught knowledge accumulated over generations, emerging as excellent combatants. Even in a fight between two sword beginners, there would be a considerable gap between an academy graduate and someone who wasn't.

What if there was a difference in rank on top of that?

I was a fledgling sword beginner who had only recently taken up the sword, while my opponent was an experienced sword walker who had graduated from a prestigious academy. That sentence alone made the outcome clear. The one saving grace was that promotion required me to last three minutes, not defeat my enemy.

「Even lasting three minutes won't be easy.」

“Is that so?”

「Yes. This fighter you'll be facing, the Black Bride, will be weaker than that sickly knight... Petel. That rigid fellow is probably one of the strongest sword walkers.」

Liam spoke offhandedly.

「But there is a clear difference between the two situations. That knight prattled about honor and adjusted to your level, but the fighter you'll meet in the Arena will do no such thing. You'll learn just how terrifying the paths a sword walker extends can be.」

“...”

「Countless paths will pierce your limbs. You'll lose your arms and legs, sobbing as you drag your torso along like a dog and beg to be spared.」

“Thank you for explaining the dreadful reality awaiting me in such detail.”

Damn it. I couldn't deny what Liam said.

I knew because I'd faced one myself.

The superhumans called sword walkers were far too powerful for me to handle. If one came at me with a genuine intent to kill, fighting back would be all but impossible. No matter how completely I'd digested the swordswoman Mary's memories, I was still far from the realm of superhumans.

And apparently my opponent knew that, too.

It was the morning after I accepted the offer of a promotion match.

A visitor came to the inn where I was staying.

“... Liam, the Little Gladiator. That's you, right?”

In the quiet inn, nearly empty that morning, a girl about my height stood blocking the entrance. Her appearance was unusual. Perhaps she came from the eastern continent: her hair was jet-black, and her eyes were equally dark. In contrast, her face and the skin visible through her sleeves were extraordinarily white. Like snowflakes.

I answered her question.

“I think you've mistaken me for someone else.”

I already knew plenty of people resented me. There was no need to reveal my identity. I tried to walk casually past her, but she still wouldn't move from the entrance.

The girl spoke again.

“Forfeit tomorrow's match.”

“...?”

“The Arena wants to humiliate you. I'll meet their expectations and take at least one of your arms when you step into the ring. If you resist, I may take all your limbs. So don't come. Don't make me brutally destroy your future.”

Her next words stopped me in my tracks. It wasn't difficult to understand what she meant. At the same time, I realized who she was.

'The Black Bride. The fighter I'll face in my promotion match.'

The moment I thought that, suspicion flared fiercely within me. Things I hadn't seen began to appear. The killing intent and sharp presence concealed beneath her beautiful, delicate appearance.

She was simply standing there, yet her stance had no openings. I saw the scabbard concealed at her waist. I sensed it instinctively. The moment she drew her sword, I would die without even being able to flee.

I could sense the second heart beneath the left side of her chest. Spikes jutted out from it in every direction, like a hedgehog. Around that chestnut-burr heart, rough paths had been opened. They were the hallmark of a sword walker, proof that she was superhuman.

Facing her in person made the gap between us feel even greater.

The girl seemed to feel the same.

“The rumors weren't clear enough, but now that I've met you, I can tell. If you fight me tomorrow, you'll be utterly ruined. You're no match for me. Not remotely.”

After saying that, the girl glared at me for a moment, then turned and walked out of the inn.

“Make a wise decision.”

“...”

“From what I've seen of your matches, you don't seem like a fool.”

Even after she left, I stood motionless, as though frozen in place. My entire body was soaked in cold sweat. Liam's voice brought me back to my senses.

「A talent too good for this age.」

He spoke calmly.

「That girl is a genius.」

* * *

The gladiator known as the Black Bride had sounded terrifying even in rumors, but meeting her in person revealed someone more frightening still. I couldn't picture myself beating her. Common sense said I should run. Losing an arm for the sake of my pride in the moment would be incredibly stupid.

But from the moment I vowed revenge against the continent's greatest swordmaster, my life had already left the course of common sense.

「There is only one way.」

And fortunately, I had one thing in my favor.

「One sword isn't enough to reach even the minimum level you need to stand against that girl.」

The blood flowing through my body defied common sense.

「You must eat another sword. Before the match.」

The blood of steel flowed in my veins.

“Whew.”

I took a deep breath, then slowly stepped forward.

Late that evening, the Arena shone with dazzling lights beneath the darkening sky. Whatever match was taking place, the spectators were cheering fervently.

With their roaring cheers in the background, I walked steadily onward.

“You've come again, young lord.”

My destination was the Hall of Fame.

Tom, its caretaker, welcomed me.

“You really must have fallen in love with the Hall of Fame.”

I grinned without the slightest shame at my lie.

“Of course. Ah, if it wouldn't be an imposition, I'd like to ask you a favor.”

All right. Time to tackle this head-on.