by Funa
Clack!
“What’s this? Are you trying to knock me out in your first blow? Maybe they should disqualify you…”
Crack!
“Well then, I suppose I’ll let you take the first strike. Do as you like…”
“Shut the hell up, you flat-chested bitch!”
“Wh…”
Time seemed to freeze.
The acoustics of the stadium were designed to create a calculated reverberation so that spectators could hear the conversation between the fighters. Although quiet comments did not always reach the spectators’ seats, Pauline’s words echoed through the arena easily—which meant that, while the onlookers hadn’t heard Olga’s first utterance, which she’d made half to herself, Pauline’s scream of rage had reached their ears. Quite easily.
“Wh-what did that girl just say?!”
Not only had Pauline just cursed at a B-rank hunter, her senior, but she had insulted the woman’s body. It was an egregious jab.
Worse still was the fact that she had done so quite loudly, in front of the country’s bigwigs, the leadership of numerous guilds, and a number of other spectators.
Their party’s name was going to become famous—just not exactly for the reason they hoped.
Reina clutched her head. Mavis paled.
“Eugh… F-flat-chested…”
Behind them both, Mile was devastated.
“What’s with this rookie?!”
“Has she no manners at all?”
Even among the spectators’ seats, which had first fallen silent, a clamor now began to grow.
“It seems like she snapped. That’s the only explanation,” Reina started. “But Pauline’s not the sort of person to lose her cool just because someone insults her. Do you think that woman was making fun of us? Now I guess we just have to wait and see whether Pauline can just shout back insults—or if she can back it up with some results.”
Even Reina had been flustered, but she was quick to recover. Was it simply because of her own brashness or because she truly believed in her friend?
***
“You insulted my friends—you’re going to regret that!” Pauline cried.
“Fl-flat-chested… flat-chested bitch…” The older woman was trembling with rage.
Fairly tall and slender, Olga was, in fact, quite a beauty. Combined with the fact that she was a B-rank hunter, this had made her rather popular in the past. However, she had yet to find herself a good man, and as the years went on, she felt more and more conscious of her lack of a partner.
Slapped in the face by Pauline’s insult, Olga was reeling. “Flat-chested… Flat-chested…”
“Blaze, O heart of mine! Let my rage become the flames and the fire that burns before me! FIIIRE! BWAAAAAAAAAAAAALLL!!!”
A shuddering ball of flame, nearly a meter in diameter, appeared before Pauline, swiftly snapping Olga back to reality.
A fireball? Olga thought. It’s huge, but it doesn’t look very cohesive. Of course, it’s quite impressive that a specialist in utility magic can use an attack spell at all, but it can’t possibly have much power…
“GOOOOO!!!”
The fireball moved toward Olga, who shielded herself calmly. “Come to me, magic barrier, shield me from that fireball!”
The ball collided with Olga’s conjured barrier; however, without sufficient power to destroy the shield, it simply washed over it.
Fire covered Olga’s field of vision, but she was unhurt.
“With attack magic like that—gwahh!” Olga screamed in anguish as a sudden pain raked her left side.
When she looked to her left, she saw a staff, jammed between the gaps in her leathers.
The end of the staff withdrew and flew towards her again.
“You braaaat!” Ignoring the pain in her side, she pushed the staff off with all her might and in quick succession, swung her own weapon at her opponent’s body and launched a kick at Pauline’s stomach with her right leg.
Huff… Huff… Huff…
Olga quickly assessed her injury, and while the pain was great, it didn’t appear to have broken any bones or ruptured internal organs. Even though the attack had been aimed at a gap, her leather armor had done its job well enough.
Struck by both the kick and the heavy staff blow, Pauline collapsed. Perhaps Olga had broken one of her bones.
Though Olga might be reprimanded later for using excessive force on a student, it had nonetheless been unseemly for that girl to speak as she had to a senior hunter. Olga’s response had only been inevitable.
“Erase the pain and heal the wounds! High Heal!” As the healing magic began to wash her pain away, Olga let out a sigh. She glanced her opponent’s way to find Pauline already on her feet again.
Pauline’s face was twisted in pain, though, and her left arm was bent at an unnatural angle.
“How rude!” the girl said. “I fought so hard to surprise you with that blow, and you just shook it off with a single spell? Healing magic is so clever and useful, though… And with that in mind…” Pauline trailed off with a crooked grin, then said, “Numb the pain, restore the bones, join and mend them! Restore the tissue, repair the blood vessels, refresh the nerves! Mega Heal!”
“Wh-what is that?!” Olga said.
“Allow me to…” Pauline swung her left arm, which should have been completely shattered, leaving Olga and the spectators lost for words.
Silence fell over the stands again.
“H-how…?” Olga muttered.
Simply being able to use recovery magic and basic healing magic, as well has having decent self-defense skills, would be enough to see one comfortably recognized as a C-rank healing magic user. On top of that, though, Pauline could use attack magic—weak though it may have been. Nevertheless, she could swing her staff at full force. And there’d been that ridiculous healing spell, too!
Once, Olga had heard from a physician about the existence of a powerful healing magic—one that surpassed even her own “High Heal” spells. It had the power to mend shattered limbs in an instant and was far beyond what she herself would ever be able to achieve.
And that little girl had such an ability?
“Impossible…”
Ignoring Olga’s muttering, Pauline started to chant another spell. “Burn, O heart of mine! Let my rage become the flames, and come to me, blazing fire!”
“Wh-what? The awkward fireball again? Do you really think I’m going to fall for your little smoke and mirror trick again?!” Olga screamed in rage. Combined with the healing magic she had just seen, she was certain the girl was trying to make a fool of her.
“Hm? Fireball? What are you talking about? What I used before was ‘Fire Wall.’ This is Fireball.”
“Wh…?”
Pauline continued her spell, unconcerned with Olga. “Compress!”
“No way! Your only attack magic is that faulty spe…”
The fire shrank and split into two complete orbs. Olga cried out.
“Do you think I went through special training just to acquire that measly level of attack magic?” Pauline said. “Now, hammer of rage, bear down on the fool who insulted my companions! GOOOOOO!!!”
Ka-bwoosh!
Before she could react, the fire orbs clipped both of Olga’s shoulders, and she flew backwards into the stone wall.
Olga sat slumped, her face blank.
“Round oveeeeer!”
As the end of the match was announced, Pauline turned on her heel and walked away.
“WHOAAAAAAAAA!!!”
There was a great roaring cheer from the stands. In reply, Pauline raised her right hand gently.
***
“So that’s the ‘amazing rookie’ you mentioned then, is it?!” said the finance officer. “I would say that ‘amazing’ was an understatement! To tell the truth, I didn’t believe you. I thought you were just exaggerating so that you could get your budget through. I’m sorry to have doubted you!”
Elbert was taken aback at the fina
nce officer’s candid apology.
Beside them, the prep school’s benefactor, Count Christopher, was grinning happily.
“That is one impressive young lady!” said the king. “It’s nearly unheard of to see such powerful healing magic, especially in combination with ingenuity and the ability to launch attack magic as well. In fact, she would make an excellent court magician. Which means this school is useful for scouting talent, after all. And this term has been particularly fruitful…”
Elbert made a strange face.
“Hm? What is it?”
Elbert answered, his expression troubled, “Um, well, there was something I heard this girl say earlier…”
“Oh? What was it, then?”
“She was laughing, but I think her exact words were, ‘Ha ha! I’m only the weakest of the Four Sages!’”
“………”
***
“You did it!”
“You were wonderful! This is the start of a glorious future for our party!”
“That was amazing, Pauline!”
With Pauline’s pre-match insults already far from their minds, the other three congratulated their friend on her victory.
Pauline sat down, red in the face, her expression still twisted. The tension that had built up as a result of her anger seemed to finally be fading, her sanity restored—or perhaps, she was suddenly recalling all the things she had said in front of that huge crowd, inspired by the flights of fancy born from Mile’s bedtime stories.
“Well, Pauline did her best. You can’t afford to lose, either!”
Mavis nodded at Reina’s words, equipping herself with her practice sword and stepping out into the area where the mock battles were being held.
Then came the second hunter who would surely suffer at the hands of his own hubris—Mavis’s opponent, a swordsman in his mid-twenties. At his age, normally, he would have still been well within C-rank. However, not only was he already a B-rank, he was one of the Roaring Mithrils. While he was still nowhere near the level of their leader, an A-rank hunter named Gren, the man had enough talent to be considered a true prodigy.
Moreover, he had a pompous manner and a pretty face, and he was popular with all the ladies in the capital, which surely played a role in making the Roaring Mithrils just a little more famous.
Yet no matter how young he was, there was still nearly a decade between him and the seventeen-year-old Mavis. That age difference was representative of the difference in practice and experience between the two sword users, as well—not to mention the discrepancies in physical build and power.
Their difference in real combat experience was perhaps the most notable. For Mavis, who never employed any kind of trick, the chance of winning against a sly hunter like this one was extremely slim.
However, such things didn’t concern Mavis. She knew she just had to throw all her strength into the battle. Thus, with that in mind, she exchanged formalities with her opponent and drew her sword.
“I humbly accept your lessons,” said Mavis.
“Sure,” the swordsman replied, in the magnanimous words of a senior hunter. “Go ahead and give it all you’ve got.”
“Special technique, ‘Godspeed Blade,’ attack!”
With that declaration, Mavis launched her offensive.
Whoosh!
“Whoa!”
Shing!
The swordsman blocked Mavis’s lightning-fast attacks, his face panicked.
Clang clang clang clang clang clang clang clang clang!
Mavis was unrelenting, and as the swordsman continued to block her attacks, his expression grew dire.
“Guh! What is this?”
Facing a far fiercer battle than he expected, the swordsman answered each one of Mavis’s sallies with rapid attacks of his own.
However, Mavis fielded these blows almost nonchalantly.
“Huh? Is this all…?” Mavis said. Lately, her only opponents had been Mile and Veil, as the other students were now loathe to go up against the three of them. As a result, her expectations had become somewhat skewed.
Thus, though she had come in with high expectations about the challenge of facing a B-rank hunter, she found that he was slower than Mile or even Veil. Was this truly her competition?
Unthinking, she muttered in disappointment. “Wh-what did…?”
Despite putting a real effort in his swings, the hunter was being crushed by a prep school graduate.
His pride in his B-rank status was shrinking to just an iota, and his face began to pale.
“Well then, let’s try it from here…” Mavis muttered.
Thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack!
“Wh-whoa…”Though he had only narrowly managed to protect himself in the face of Mavis’s attacks, the swordsman was finally getting used to her speed, which was gradually increasing. “Well, now that I’m finally warmed up, let’s do this for real!”
“Wh-what…?” Mavis exclaimed, then pressed forward.
Blam blam blam blam blam blam blam blam blam!
Ka-shing!
“Gwahh!” The young swordsman took a blow directly to his left side and crumpled nearly in half.
“WHOOOOOOAAAAAA!!!” An excited roar rose from the stands. The rookie had just felled a supposedly expert swordsman in a single blow!
Yet the test had only gone on for a short time, and there was no call announcing the end of the battle. The aim of the match wasn’t to decide a victor, but to see the abilities of the test taker, so calling it too soon would defeat the purpose of the fight.
“Ugh…” the swordsman groaned. Though Mavis used only a practice sword, it was no different from being struck with an iron bar. Things were not helped by the fact that the hunter wore leather, rather than metal, armor.
The swordsman mustered all his determination in order to stand, biting back the pain.
As he finally readied his sword again, Mavis spoke coolly.
“Currently, I’m using ‘Godspeed Blade’ at 1.2 times speed. Next up, I’ll face you at 1.3 times.”
“Wh-what…?”
Ka-slam!
“Gwahh!!”
Even in perfect physical condition, he couldn’t have stood up to this expedited blade—in his current condition, there was no contest.
“Match oveeeeer!! Someone call a medic!”
The end of the match was finally declared, as it became clear that the swordsman wouldn’t be returning to his feet without assistance.
Still unsatisfied by the battle, Mavis huffed, disappointed. “I still had two more levels…”
Then, amidst ear-splitting cheers, she left the stage.
***
“Wh-what was happening with that swordsman?! She was so fast I couldn’t even see her blade!” The finance officer was enraptured. Count Christopher’s eyes were wide as well.
“That was incredible! This girl must have been that ‘amazing rookie’!” said the king.
“Lately, her favorite sentence has been, ‘How come I’m the only one getting left behind?!’” Elbert replied, a strange expression on his face.
“My, she was rather splendid…” said the princess from behind them as her heart began to beat faster.
***
“Great work!” Reina called to Mavis as she moved to the center of the stadium, a daring grin spread across her face.
One of the Roaring Mithrils’ magic users, a man in his late thirties looked to the elderly mage, then to Gren—the sword-wielding party leader—with a troubled expression, but both of them were silent, impassive.
The magic user had confidence in his strength. Certainly, he was no match for Anselm the Dragonslayer, the old-timer who was their party’s chief magic user. However, the difference between them boiled down to nothing more than a difference in experience. Anselm had lived and worked as a mage and hunter for nearly twice as long as he, so naturally his knowledge and technique were far superior. By the time the man reached Anselm’s age, he would be just as
strong or stronger. In fact, he was already stronger than the old-timer had been back in his thirties. Even now, had he fought with all his might, there was a chance that he could beat the now-enfeebled old man.
Still, the man, who was normally filled with such confidence, was trembling.
Somehow, members of the Roaring Mithrils, a party said to be on the verge of an A-rank promotion, had been bested by graduates of the Hunters’ Prep School not once, but twice.
That was absolutely unforgivable. Who would ever nominate them for an A-rank at this rate? Who would even entrust their party with high-ranking jobs?
The more he thought about it, the more sure he became: there was no way that any B-rank hunter could possibly lose to a student. Yet they had. Twice in a row! It had to be a set-up—a plot by an enemy who wanted to drag the Roaring Mithrils through the mud and ruin their reputations.
The school had produced some strong rookies, clearly. But the notion that there might be more who were even stronger was ridiculous! However, what if that were true? What if, by some slim chance, he lost as well?
Was he really the right one for the task? Would it not be better for the old-timer, or even their leader, to handle this?
Was he really going to lose to a child in front of all these people? If that happened…
Steeling his troubled heart, the mage proceeded onto the field.
The girl was a combat magic specialist, so they kept some distance between themselves as they squared off.
“Looking forward to a good match,” she called. “By the way, do you have any family?”
“…!!”
Why would she ask a thing like that?!
Was she already thinking about his survivors?!
Hopelessly intimidated, the mage lost all composure. Then again, his composure had probably already fled before he ever set foot on the field.
“O raging flames of the deep, consume my enemy and burn him to the ground! Hellfire!”
“Wh—you idiot! Stooooop!!” The scream came from the Roaring Mithrils’ waiting area.