Chapter: 358
While Lucy was preparing step by step to participate in the arena, those left in the Alrn Knight Order were lounging about on the training ground floor, taking a break.
Even though anyone could tell that nobles shouldn’t look like this while out in public, not a single one of them brought it up.
After all, the harshness of reality was far too barren to uphold any noble honor.
“Looks like after lunch, we’ll be rolling on the ground until dinner,” one sighed.
“…Your Highness, do you really need to bring that up?” another responded.
“Lady Partran is right. Let’s relax while we can.”
Just as Arthur reluctantly spoke up in the silence, the children from the Partran and Burrow families began to poke fun at him.
But Arthur didn’t seem to lose his spirit at all.
“I’ve been running since dawn, feeling like I’m going to regurgitate my insides. After breakfast, I just want to pass out until lunch! And now, after lunch, what’s waiting for us?”
“I don’t want to imagine it, so please take it easy.”
“After dinner, I already know what’s next: sparring with the knights until I can barely keep my eyes open! They’re letting us sleep for three whole hours, claiming it’s for our consideration. Three hours! How considerate!”
“Your Highness, do you need to be pricked by a spear to stop talking?”
“But that Lucy Alrn threw us into this hell and then escaped to handle her own business! That damn brat!”
Arthur might have let out a curse, but neither Jokal nor Joy dared to say anything in response. His anger was undoubtedly justified.
What finally calmed Arthur down was Joy’s careful suggestion.
“In a sense, isn’t it a relief she left? If Lady Alrn had stayed, it would have been tougher for us.”
“…That’s also true.”
Arthur lightly agreed with the point.
Had that persistent brat stayed beside him, spouting insults and forcing him to keep moving during training, he wouldn’t have had the space to breathe.
Now that he thought about it, maybe it was better that she hadn’t shown up for a long while. In fact, it wouldn’t be bad if she just stayed away until training ended.
What difference would it have made anyway?
Lucy Alrn, who was accustomed to the training of the Alrn Knight Order, would have rolled them as much as she could and then volunteered to push herself even harder.
“Hey, Joy, what did Lucy say she was off to do?”
“To the arena in the Terushah Empire. She said she intends to participate there!”
The Terushah Empire’s arena, huh.
Arthur recalled when he had visited there as a child, accompanying envoys for social ties.
Nobles, who were ready to risk their lives just to flaunt their strength.
Both winners and losers shaking hands after glorious duels.
And the audience, passionately hoping that they too would one day participate.
So, Lucy Alrn was participating there?
‘Hey, what’s it like getting beat up by a girl who’s so much smaller than you?’
“…Poor opponent.”
Thinking of Lucy’s potential dialogue made Arthur feel sympathy for her opponent.
What would someone who openly entered the arena think about getting insulted by a girl hiding behind a shield?
And how would their mind struggle when they found themselves getting utterly demolished without being able to land a single hit?
“I hope it doesn’t escalate into a diplomatic issue.”
Arthur hoped that none of the high-ranking nobles were among Lucy’s targets when he heard footsteps approaching from afar.
“Your Highness.”
“What is it, Frey? Have you finally come to rest as well?”
“No, the break time is over now.”
“…Already?”
“Please nooooo…”
“Oh, great gods…”
Unlike the three in despair, Frey seemed to truly enjoy the training of the Alrn Knights.
*
The citizens of the Terushah Empire revere the strong.
Regardless of an individual’s status, if someone is strong enough, it’s only right to show them respect.
But with such preference for the strong, Terushah’s people also have a strong disdain for the weak.
If someone is weaker, they naturally believe that they should respect themselves; if they don’t, they will certainly pay the price.
There’s no room for mercy. Being ignored by the weak and brushing it off isn’t goodness but weakness itself. Stronger individuals must ensure that the weaker ones pay the price.
Unless they seek to drag someone down to their level.
Count Bardronel, who learned about honor from his parents since birth, understood this truth better than anyone else.
Therefore, he respected Benedict Alrn for his strength and laughed off any immediate rudeness whilst quietly tracking Lucy Alrn’s movements.
He hoped she would gain her spot in the arena. It was time for rudeness to have consequences.
And just before.
Lucy Alrn was able to participate in the arena, just as Count Bardronel desired.
“My son.”
“Yes, Father.”
“I expect you already know without saying it.”
“Do not worry, Father. I won’t disappoint you.”
Once his son left the office, Count Bardronel leaned back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling while a smile crept onto his face.
“I suppose I need to think about how to stop Alrn’s wrath.”
He had never doubted that his son would lose.
*
Leaving behind the now-cold Benedict, I stepped out onto the street and went back to the shop run by the Newman family.
I wanted to check out the line-up of those participating in the arena this time.
If it were simply to gain experience, I would probably just rush in without thinking, but since I have a mission from the great and noble Armadi, I can’t afford to do that.
I absolutely must win in the arena and see my stat window!
Personally, I’d like to know how strong I am right now, but there are still things that require certain stats to be unlocked.
So to know how much I need to grow, I must fulfill this mission.
“It’s a list of individuals you should keep an eye on, Young Lady.”
A member of the Newman family handed me documents just as I requested.
“Do you need explanations about each individual?”
‘No, I’m fine.’
“Just leave me alone, you old geezer.”
“…Understood.”
Once the awkwardly smiling Newman family member retreated, I leaned my chin on my hand and looked over the list.
There were quite a few names I recognized.
It made sense. The Terushah Empire’s arena had been a perfectly intact part of the Soul Academy game. While I didn’t memorize every NPC by name, I definitely remembered those who would be in my way.
For example, there was a guy named Bawt in the participants list, who carried a weapon that most wouldn’t dare to face.
He wasn’t the fastest mover but each of his attacks held mighty power and had a broad area of effect, making him a tricky opponent.
Strategy?
Just stay calm. Since his attacks are powerful, he has more openings after an attack, so as long as I remain composed, I can take him down without much trouble.
Who knows how things will feel in reality, but it felt that way in the game.
Diar as well was quite a tough opponent.
Utilizing the spirit he summoned, he would torment users, earning him the nickname “Shotgun Crafter.”
Dealing with an opponent who bounced around like a user while attacking would inevitably cause one to spit out curses.
The strategy was to take the hits and break through.
As the damage each of his attacks dealt was low, it’s an easy win if I fight in a “you die, I die” style.
Besides those two, there were Phark, Gab, Ham, and Arsha.
“This guy is also participating in the arena.”
As I recalled the names that stuck in my mind, a voice startled me, making my shoulders flinch.
“I-I’m sorry, Lucy. I just saw a name we faced before and couldn’t help but speak out loud.”
It was Benedict, still recovering from his “Papa’s Mistakes” phase, who apologized the moment he met my gaze.
But I still couldn’t forgive him.
How could he not acknowledge the help I provided?
If the patrons at the bar hadn’t stood up for me, I would’ve been labeled a total brat!
Thinking back to that unfairness, it wasn’t yet time to forgive.
Should I tell him to keep his distance?
Hmm… no, that feels too obvious.
Instead, it might be better to just turn my gaze back without a word.
My prediction was spot on. As I turned my gaze toward the list without responding, Benedict’s colossal figure seemed to crumble.
“I know I erred, please forgive me.”
“…”
“Lucy~.”
Did I feel bad for the now-sobbing giant? The bald knight, who had been standing by, couldn’t help but speak up.
“Well, uh, Young Lady, the Lord is only acting out of goodwill.”
‘Shut up, bald head.’
“Shut it. With your lack of awareness, it must be that the hairs on your head ran away from you.”
My sharp retort made the bald knight close his mouth, but the other two, Karl and Erin, stepped in to defend Benedict.
“Lady, the Lord is sincerely reflecting on his actions.”
“I agree, Young Lady. Would it be wise to show your leniency towards him?”
…Ugh. I wouldn’t be able to ignore them since those two are always so friendly to me.
I pouted, glancing at the now watery-eyed Benedict.
“Papa♡”
“…Lucy.”
“If you do something this silly again next time, I won’t forgive you for real, okay?♡ No matter how foolish you are…”
“Lucy~!”
Before I even finished my sentence, Benedict burst out crying, showering me with tears as he pulled me into a hug.
At first, I had been awkwardly trying to escape that sticky embrace, but now it felt impossible to get away from Benedict’s overwhelming strength.
Before long, I resigned to my fate, gently patting his back until he calmed down.
“I’m sorry, Lucy. This foolish Papa of yours…”
‘It’s fine, just stop it.’
“Come on. It’s not like this foolish father has only begun acting foolish.”
“Geez. To misjudge such a kind Lucy. This rough Papa can’t hold his head high.”
Sigh… since trying to make him feel better probably wouldn’t resolve anything, I decided to change the subject.
If I brought up something else, he might calm down.
‘By the way…’
“Forget that, you foolish father. Didn’t you mention there was a crappy opponent to face? Tell me about just how many foolish things you’ve done in the past, and I might listen.”
*
On the day of the arena’s commencement, after finishing his congratulatory speech, Count Bardronel leisurely observed the battles of various contenders from his reserved seats.
This arena had a higher caliber than usual. Clearly, Alrn’s appearance on the streets had an impact.
It made sense that any warrior would want to flaunt their strength before someone legendary known all across the continent.
“Oho. It’s finally Lucy’s turn!”
At Count Bardronel’s excited voice, he turned to see Lucy walking out from behind the door.
The quality of her shield was splendid.
Shining in the sunlight, her shield seemed sacred enough to remind one of ancient legends, and the mace was so beautiful that anyone handling weapons would find it breathtakingly eerie.
Yet, her armor looked rather shabby in comparison to her weaponry.
It was by no means poor quality, but it fell far short when standing next to her shield and mace.
What kind of confidence did she have? The armor, crucial on the battlefield, wasn’t given enough attention.
Ah, well. Regardless of that inquiry, she was truly dazzling.
Just her appearance alone captivated the attention of the audience and even snatched away the opponent’s spirit.
If that girl manages to rise to the top, this tournament will surely be more popular than ever.
Yet, it was unfortunate; her first opponent was less than ideal.
Bawt was no weak man who would be defeated by such a little girl.
Alas for his son, to face elimination even before he meets his mate would only be troubling, albeit somewhat delightful.
As Count Bardronel was convinced of Lucy’s defeat, across from her, Bawt was finally pulling himself together and turned to face her.
“I look forward to this match, Lady Alrn. May we have a good battle.”
With a clear glimmer of strength, Bawt offered his greeting, prompting cheers from the audience praising his benevolence.
However, those cheers didn’t last long.
“Sure, let’s have a good match, Bawt the Buff. But I highly doubt we’ll get what you want. Your lame and slow axe doesn’t stand a chance against me.”
Lucy’s response turned the arena into a library at that instance.
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