How disagreeable, Alexia silently mutters to herself.
She's sitting in one of the seats for the special guests, waiting for the
opening ceremony of the Goddess's Trial to begin. The seats in question are
occupied by Natsume, Alexia, and Rose. There are a number of other guests
behind them, but they're the main attractions. It's painfully obvious they're
being used to draw an audience as de facto booth babes, but she can overlook
that.
There are two things Alexia finds disagreeable.
The first is Nelson. The acting archbishop is busy pompously greeting
everyone in the center of the grounds. When she talked with him earlier about
the archbishop's murder the day before, he obstinately refused to let her look
into the incident.
It all started when Nelson spouted some nonsense about the inspection
being called off because the subject was dead. Alexia had replied that made
the investigation all the more necessary, dumbass, though she'd obviously
used more diplomatic language. Nelson insisted she needed to get her request
reapproved if she wanted to conduct an inspection.
Even if she hurried, it would take her three days to get back to the capital,
at least a week to get approval, and another three days to return to Lindwurm.
Who knows how long it would take Nelson to accept her permit once she
actually brought it to him? Depending on his mood, he could easily end up
making her wait an additional week. It went without saying that after all that
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time passed, crucial evidence could be lost forever.
That said, Alexia knew she was acting as a representative of her country,
so she couldn't exactly force his hand. Holy Teachings wasn't just practiced
in the kingdom of Midgar but in all the nearby nations, too. If she tried to
push the issue, she was liable to receive backlash from their neighbors, not to
mention lose the support of the populace. Religion made for a handy ally, but
as a foe, it was an absolute nuisance.
She glares at Acting Archbishop Nelson as he jovially continues giving
his address. At least grieve a little, baldy, she silently mutters to herself. The
archbishop's death hasn't been reported to the public, but still. Oh, and by the
way, Nelson is bald.
Alexia sighs, then glances at the woman in her periphery, Natsume or
whatever, sitting to her left.
Natsume is the other thing that irks Alexia.
Natsume sits politely beside her, responding to the crowd's cheers with a
broad smile. Her elegant silver hair frames her blue feline eyes and
accompanying mole, and her features only serve to enhance her likability.
Thanks to her pearly smile and queenly wave, her lovely appearance, and
her graceful conduct, she's wildly popular.
As Alexia looks at her, she becomes more and more certain there's
something fishy about her.
Maybe Natsume is the kind of genius author who comes around once in a
millennium and maybe she isn't, but the fact of the matter is that Alexia
hadn't so much as heard of her prior to that day. True, Alexia doesn't have a
shred of interest in literature, but as a princess, she does put some effort into
knowing who's who. In other words, Natsume must have only just risen to
prominence recently.
For a rookie to have such presence, to conduct herself so well, and to be
so popular? That is fishy.
She isn't jealous! If anything, it's the kind of hate that arises from being
cut from the same cloth.
Alexia knows how to conduct herself flawlessly in front of the public. She
lives her life repressing her true self and playing the part of a perfect princess.
Most people in positions of power are playing a role in some capacity, but it's
hard to come by someone willing to sacrifice themselves to perform the part
to perfection. It's a safe bet to say that the more an actor sacrifices to pull off
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the ultimate performance, the darker their underside.
"Thank you all," Natsume calls out to the crowd. Alexia clicks her tongue.
She finds that soft, ingratiating voice of Natsume's grating. Her exposed
chest is too calculated as she stoops over to show off her cleavage… Well,
aren't you just the cutest?
As she internally bad-mouths Natsume, Alexia waves at the gathered
masses with an unchanging smile.
However, the crowd clearly reacted to Natsume better. For a moment,
Alexia's cheek twitches, and she crosses her arms. As she uses them to push
up her breasts, she hunches over. Just a little.
The crowd's cheers grow ever so slightly louder.
Emphasis on ever so slightly.
W-well, my neckline isn't very low, so it's hardly my fault, Alexia silently
reassures herself as she returns to her seat.
She casts a fleeting glance to her right, where Rose is smiling happily.
She's been like that all morning.
Then, just in case, the princess glances to her left.
In that moment, she sees something: the corners of Natsume's lips curled
up in a mocking smirk.
Something inside Alexia snaps.
How disagreeable, Beta silently mutters to herself as she plays the role of
Natsume the novelist.
There is just one thing she finds annoying, and it's sitting to her right:
Alexia Midgar. She's the vermin who used her position as a princess and a
friend to get close to Beta's beloved master.
Everything is fishy about that woman, behaving like a model princess by
cajoling the crowd with her sickeningly soft, ingratiating voice and waving at
them with that questionable smile. When it comes to women who pretend to
be perfect as a matter of habit, it's generally a safe bet they have a dark
underside. There isn't a doubt in Beta's mind that her master would never fall
for such a wench, but even a one-in-a-million chance is still a chance.
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And even if that didn't end up being a problem, the woman was still a
nuisance, one whose presence was most unwelcome in the pages of Beta's
The Chronicles of Master Shadow.
When Beta heard Shadow saved that woman during The Case of the
Kidnapped Princess, her blood boiled. It filled her with rage that she hadn't
been the one who'd…er, wait, uh…at the fact that girl had caused so much
trouble for her master. Right. It wasn't jealousy, obviously!
In order to contain her fury, Beta rewrote that section, replacing the role
of the victim saved by Shadow with an adorable silver-haired, blue-eyed elf
with a beauty mark. She stayed up late at night reading and rereading that
section over and over.
But now, the harlot was threatening to barge in on The Chronicles of
Master Shadow again. Beta was more powerful, more beautiful, and more
devoted to her master, so what did that woman think she was doing butting
in? I-it was ridiculous!
As Beta internally spews vitriol at that vulgar princess, she responds to the
crowd's cheers on autopilot.
When she snatches a glance to the side, she sees, of all things, that tawdry
princess trying to push up her shoddy chest to curry favor with the masses.
How sickening.
And besides, those things don't come close to hers in terms of volume.
They're totally average.
Thoroughly pleased at herself for emerging victorious yet again, Beta
glances down at her voluminous cleavage and lets out a little snort.
Oops. Did Alexia hear that?
Beta turns away to play dumb, which is exactly when a sharp pain shoots
through her right foot.
"Ah…?!" She stifles her yelp and looks down to discover Alexia's heel
being driven into her foot.
As she strains to keep herself from snapping, Beta calmly addresses her.
"Excuse me, Princess Alexia, but would you please move your foot?"
Alexia stares fixedly at Beta as she removes her heel, feigning that she
only just realized what she was doing. Then, without so much as an apology,
she even has the nerve to let out a little laugh.
You absolute piece of shiiiit!! Beta is about to scream out loud, but
between her devotion to her master and her loyalty to the Shadow Garden,
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she manages to rein herself in.
Only barely.
A drop of blood trickles from Beta's lip.
Rose just keeps on happily smiling.
I gaze out vacantly over the Goddess's Trial from the stands.
It's the middle of the day, so things have only just gotten started. They're
still giving speeches, introducing the guests, and marching in the parade. The
main event, the actual Trial, isn't slated to start until after sundown.
Currently, I'm just in the bleachers as another face in the crowd. I let out a
sigh, looking at the three girls all getting along in the guest box.
I wanna do something.
Specifically, something shadowbrokery. Resigning myself to the role of a
normal spectator during an awesome event is killing me.
Like, I should be partaking in that standard trope where I participate in the
Trial myself while keeping my identity hidden or something.
You know, the bit where I make some huge display of my powers, and
everyone goes, Who is that guy?!
If this were a tournament, that would be sweet. Unfortunately, though,
everyone only gets one round here, and after some research, I found out it'd
be pretty hard to nab a slot while keeping my identity under wraps. I consider
barging in by force, but I figure I'd rather save that for something more
important.
As I wrestle with one nonstarter of an idea after another, the event
gradually proceeds.
Sometimes that's just how it goes. I couldn't think of a decent plan
yesterday, and it's not like I was expecting some convenient stroke of genius
to strike me on the spot. And even though it sorta feels like I'm giving up, I'll
still be able to enjoy myself in the normie way. This world is short on big
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events, so I find myself able to have a surprisingly good time. I even manage
to gamble my way into a little pocket money.
Eventually, the sun makes its way down, and the main attraction finally
starts. A brilliant light fills the grounds, and ancient letters rise up from the
ground in the arena.
Then the letters release a dome of white light. The crowd goes wild.
Once the challenger goes into the dome, the Sanctuary picks out an
appropriate opponent, and the battle starts. That's it. No one in the wings is
able to interfere until one side or the other is unable to continue. Apparently,
people have even died.
The whole bit about being forced to fight until one party literally can't
anymore makes me reevaluate the merits of playing a background character
through this event. There is a real risk that my true strength could be
discovered if I enter.
Meanwhile, the first challenger steps into the dome after the introductions.
He's some sort of tough guy from the Knight Order.
But the dome offers no response.
The man curses as he leaves the arena.
You can't blame the guy: The entrance fee is one hundred thousand zeni,
after all. And apparently, there are over 150 participants this year.
It makes sense in a way. Passing the Goddess's Trial is supposedly a great
honor. You get a commemorative medal, and I hear everyone falls all over
themselves going, You beat the Goddess's Trial? Wow! Here's a job! to the
victor.
As I watch the challengers go up one by one, I find myself wondering just
how long it's gonna be until Alpha's turn.
The first ancient warrior who shows up to fight is for lucky challenger
number fourteen.
Annerose is a traveler from Velgalta, a country that prizes swordplay, and
when she enters the dome, the ancient script reacts and begins glowing. The
light coalesces into a humanoid shape—a translucent warrior. According to
the commentators, he's Borg, a warrior from ancient times.
The two of them have a fairly ordinary battle, and Annerose secures a
fairly ordinary victory. I was pretty pumped up to see what the ancient
warriors could do, so I'm bummed at how mundane the fight turns out.
Fingers crossed that the next ones will be stronger.
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As the event goes on, it dawns on me that I had it wrong. Annerose herself
is strong. Eight warriors have been summoned at this point, but she's the only
challenger who's won so far. When I think about it like that, I realize Borg
must've been a tough nut, too.
The night wears on, and the pool of remaining challengers is reduced to a
mere few.
As I feel the event starting to wind down to its conclusion, I hear the name
of the next contestant get called out.
"Our next challenger is from the Midgar Academy for Dark Knights: Cid
Kagenou!"
Cid Kagenou? Who's that? Wait… That's me!
I'm definitely the only Cid Kagenou who goes to the Midgar Academy for
Dark Knights, but…I definitely don't remember signing up.
"Let's give our brave contender a warm welcome!"
No! Stop! Pause!
A wave of applause washes over me. Someone even whistles, and excited
cheers fill the stadium.
I'm not liking the vibe here. My cheek twitches as I rack my brain.
Given the situation, I have three options.
Option one: I can give up and go fight. If nothing happens, my position as
a nobody is safe, but if some superpowerful warrior appears, I'm at risk of
having my powers discovered.
Option two: I can make a run for it. I'm just some rando from the
Academy for Dark Knights, after all. Nobody knows what I look like, so it
would be a breeze. Unfortunately, I'd piss off the Church. If they complain to
my school, I might even get expelled.
Option three: I can cause a shitstorm. Looks like this is my only choice.
I erase my presence, dashing at top speed to find a hiding place. Once I've
made sure I'm alone, I transform into my Shadow guise and leap out into the
air.
I'm a fervent believer in the philosophy that there's no problem you can't
get rid of with an explosion.
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And on that note…
Commence Operation: A Mysterious Badass Causes a Shitstorm!
As I land atop the domed platform, my long coat flutters behind me.
"My name is Shadow. I lurk in the darkness and hunt down shadows…"
The crowd stirs.
"Ancient memories slumber within the Sanctuary…"
The ancient script reacts and begins forming a humanoid shape.
"And tonight, we shall release them…"
I draw my ebony katana and slice through the night sky.
Over in the guest seats, Beta's mouth is open impressively wide.
"Shadow!!"
"Shadow?!"
"Mas—?!"
Realizing she's about to call him Master Shadow, Beta frantically stops
herself mid-sentence.
Fortunately for her, everyone else in the guest box has their eyes glued to
Shadow, so nobody hears her. Alexia, Rose, and even Acting Archbishop
Nelson are visibly shaken at the appearance of a sudden intruder.
As she closes her gaping mouth, Beta begins thinking. This wasn't part of
the plan.
At the same time, though, she realizes something. She knows her beloved
master would never take such measures without good cause. There must be
some key reason for his actions, and it's her job as his backup to figure out
what it is.
A moment later, Beta is calm and collected again.
What should she do?
What's the best course?
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"I see. So that's Shadow," murmurs Nelson. "I don't know what he's
trying to do, but the Church's paladins are stationed all around the arena.
You've overestimated yourself, fool. We won't let you escape."
Nelson gives the order for the paladins to assemble.
These are knights chosen from baptism to protect the Church. Normal
knights can't even begin to compare to their strength. Back when she was a
kid, Beta found herself struggling to take one down in the process of saving a
"Compatible." Nowadays, of course, she would never let something so
unseemly happen.
"Why is Shadow here…?" mutters Alexia.
"Is he okay? I hope he doesn't get needlessly caught up in all this…," says
Rose. Keeping one eye on Shadow, she restlessly surveys the area.
Suddenly, the arena is flooded in white.
The ancient letters flash, then coalesce into the shape of a warrior.
Beta puts together the minute description listed in the ancient letters and
reads it aloud.
"Aurora the Calamity Witch…"
"Aurora? Impossible…"
Beta's and Nelson's voices overlap.
When the light dies down, a woman stands in its place. Her hair is long
and black, and her eyes are a vivid shade of violet. She wears a thin black
robe, and her dark-purple dress and pale skin are almost translucent. She has
an artistic beauty to her, as though she were a sculpture come to life.
"Aurora? Who's that?" Alexia asks Nelson, deliberately ignoring Beta.
"She's the Calamity Witch. Long ago, she rained chaos and destruction
down on our world."
"The Calamity Witch… I've never heard of her."
"Neither have I. Miss Natsume, you suggested that you had?" asks Rose.
"Yes, but little more than her name alone," replies Beta.
Which was the truth.
Aurora the Calamity Witch. Each time Beta finds out more about ancient
history, Aurora's name invariably shows up. Even so, she still has no idea
what kind of chaos Aurora sowed or the destruction she wrought. Other than
the mysteries surrounding Diablos, her history is the one the Shadow Garden
is putting the most effort into researching.
And now, she's here in person. This is a massive breakthrough. Beta
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withdraws her notepad from the gap in her cleavage, then jots down a hasty
sketch of Aurora. Then she sketches Shadow squaring off against her. She
spends considerably more time on the latter.
"Gathering ideas for your novels?" Rose comments.
"…Something along those lines."
After scribbling "Master Shadow was just as sublime as always," Beta
snaps her notepad closed.
"If you wouldn't mind, could you tell me a little more about Aurora?"
asks Beta flirtatiously.
Nelson swells with pride. "I can hardly blame you two for your ignorance.
In fact, I'm more surprised that Miss Natsume had heard about her. Only a
small fraction of people are familiar with Aurora, even among the Church,"
he says with a smile. His gaze never leaves the cleavage peeking out from
Beta's blouse. "Still, it looks like we won't need those paladins after all.
Shadow's luck appears to have run out."
"Is Aurora really that strong?" asks Rose.
"She's the most powerful woman in recorded history. She could crush
someone like him with one hand tied behind her back. Sadly, though, that's
as much as I can tell you."
Nelson goes quiet, as if to say See for yourselves.
Beta becomes indignant—there's no doubt in her mind her lord will
emerge victorious, but that's not to say she's completely free of worry.
Aurora the Calamity Witch was resilient enough to etch her name in the
annals of history. If the battle against this foe tires her master out, the
paladins might take advantage of that opportunity and…
It's unthinkable…but not impossible.
Plus, enough time has passed for Beta to get a dim idea of Shadow's plan.
He mentioned something about releasing ancient memories slumbering in the
Sanctuary. He'd taken action to call forth Aurora. There must be some sort of
merit in doing so.
If her master has judged Aurora to be the key to all this, then Beta intends
to follow his lead.
Beta gently touches the beauty mark on her cheek. That's the signal that
indicates a change in plans. Lurking somewhere in the area, Epsilon has
probably picked up on her cue. Even if she hasn't, Beta is confident Epsilon
will act appropriately.
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"It's about to begin."
Prompted by Nelson, Beta turns her gaze toward the arena. There, she
sees Shadow with his ebony katana in hand and Aurora with arms crossed
and a relaxed smile. It makes her seem so alive and beautiful, it's hard to
believe Aurora is composed of nothing but distant memories.
"I find it hard to believe Shadow would go down so easily…," whispers
Alexia. Her expression is serious, and she's watching Shadow closely.
Beta finds herself ever so slightly impressed. At least Alexia isn't totally
blind.
The air in the stadium is tense. The silence is stifling.
Shadow. Aurora. They continue standing there, staring at each other.
Maybe this moment is critical for them. Maybe they're each trying to get
a read on the other.
Finally, with an air of seeming reluctance, the battle begins.
I haven't felt this way in a really long time.
As I stand facing the woman with violet eyes, I grin beneath my mask.
She's smiling, too.
There's no doubt in my mind that she feels the same as I do.
In my opinion, each battle is a conversation.
A tremor in their sword's tip, a shift in their gaze, the position of the
feet… There's meaning to be found in all those tiny things, and seeking those
meanings and figuring out how best to deal with them are what fights are all
about.
It's no exaggeration to say that the most skilled in combat hold the power
to perceive purpose in the smallest of actions and prepare a superior response.
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That's why I think of it as a conversation.
With stronger communication skills, you can anticipate further ahead,
allowing you to respond appropriately, which they can guess before you can
follow through and react, and so on and so forth, in an endless exchange.
On the other hand, if your conversational skills are lacking, or if there's
too big a difference between you and the other guy, you won't be able to get
a dialogue started in the first place.
One side, or sometimes even both, will act on impulse until the fight ends.
That's no conversation. It's not even a process. Just a result. In my
opinion, if you aren't planning on having a discussion, you might as well just
go ahead and decide your fight with a good old game of rock-paper-scissors.
Delta, I'm talking to you here. Her rules let rock beat the living shit out of
paper and scissors.
That said, I'm hardly in any position to talk. It's been forever since I've
had anything even resembling a conversation.
Unlike Delta, though, I do at least go in trying to communicate… It just
always ends with me playing rock and smashing in their face.
That's why this chick is getting me more excited than I've been in a
while. She's watching me. The tip of my sword, my gaze, my footwork…
While she pretends to smile nonchalantly, she's watching every meaningful
move I make.
I think I'll call her Violet. My dear, beloved Violet.
For the first few moments, our conversation consists of merely staring at
each other.
Bit by bit, we're learning. She's the type who likes to keep her distance,
and I'm fundamentally the kind of guy who likes to match my opponent's
rhythm. I'm definitely not the type who likes smashing people with my rock.
And because of that, I begin our conversation by ceding the initiative.
After you, I imply.
The very next moment, I yank back my front leg.
As I do, something like a red spear explodes from the ground where my
foot was.
I retreat half a step. Gotta say I wasn't expecting her first move to come
from below me.
The red spear splits into two, rushing at me from both sides.
The first step is to observe.
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I want to judge its speed, mobility, and destructive capacity.
For these reasons, I dodge the spear on my left, then block the one on my
right with my katana. The impact has weight to it. It's definitely enough to
kill me.
The dodged spear proceeds to split again. There are probably a thousand
red wires now, and they all look sharp as needles.
Then, they converge on my position.
I gather magic in my blade and sweep the lot of them away, obliterating
the red spear completely.
"A swarm of mosquitoes can never take down a lion," I tell her.
Violet beams with grace. We go back to staring at each other for a bit.
With stronger communication skills, it takes less time to gauge the other
party, including their condition for the most part.
I know how this battle will end. Violet probably does, too.
Suddenly, the silence is broken when a series of spears as thick as logs
burst out of the ground.
There are nine of them in total.
I'm able to dodge the wide ones, but they can change their shape like
tentacles and keep coming—trying to stab at me with spears, wrap around me
with string, chomp at me like jaws.
That's the way she likes to fight: a lethal, one-sided game with those
shape-shifting tentacles.
I continue observing. As I watch how the feelers operate, I refine my
movements.
By doing so, I'm able to remove any unnecessary motion when I dodge.
Full steps turn to half steps. Two moves turn to one.
Even if I avoid them forever, I can't win, but evasion is a necessary first
step to counterattacking.
The less I have to move to dodge, the faster my subsequent counterattack
can come.
Eventually, my evasion and my counterattack will coincide.
With a single step, I bring myself directly in front of Violet.
At some point, a scythe appears in her hands. It cleaves toward me.
As I repel the blow with my katana, I kick her in the leg.
A slime sword extends from the tip of my foot and impales her. As of late,
I've mostly been using it as a prop for when I want to get theatrical, but it's
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invaluable against strong enemies as a way to throw them off-balance.
For a beat, she stops moving, and a moment is all I need.
Violet smiles, accepting the outcome.
"I wanted to fight you at your full strength."
As fresh blood sprays through the air, I whisper in a low voice only Violet
can hear.
"Like I said, Shadow doesn't have a leg to stand on," says Nelson proudly.
Alexia ignores him.
Since the beginning of the battle, Aurora has been pushing Shadow back
nonstop. Alexia gazes in astonishment at the terrifying speed of the red
tendrils.
Those things are unlike any weapon she's ever seen. They change their
form so freely, it's like they're an extension of Aurora's own body. She could
probably even extend them out even farther and run an entire group through
at once.
Anyone insisting on fighting her with a sword would be doomed from the
get-go.
So this is the power of ancient battle techniques. Alexia is forced to admit
she would be no match for Aurora.
"He's more persistent than I expected, but the difference in skill is clear."
You're wrong. Alexia silently rejects Nelson's observation.
Although it may look like Shadow is being pushed back by Aurora's
onslaught, he hasn't actually tried to attack yet. He's just observing, taking
stock of this unfamiliar attack.
Aurora is strong, make no mistake. She's powerful enough to give
Shadow a decent fight, after all.
But those red spears haven't so much as touched him yet.
"A swarm of mosquitoes can never take down a lion."
As Shadow speaks, he blasts away over a thousand slender spikes in a
single blow.
The red spears regroup into thick poles and rush at Shadow from all
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directions.
They hum through the air as they rain down on him with enough force to
kill a lion, splitting apart and gnashing at him like fangs.
But they just can't connect.
Much to the contrary—with each pass, Shadow's evasions get smoother.
Each time it seems they can't possibly get any more efficient, they do.
Each moment, Alexia thinks the battle has reached its apex, only for it to
be overwritten with an even loftier summit the next.
"Amazing…"
"As always…"
Alexia and Natsume whisper in unison.
The truly strong are able to drive their opponents into a deadlock with
defense alone. Alexia's instructor taught her that once.
This fight is a prime example.
"What are you doing, you stupid witch? Finish him off already!" Nelson
screams in a tone tinged with irritation.
But the moment has passed.
Aurora is no longer capable of stopping Shadow.
The fight was decided in the blink of an eye.
Alexia was only able to make out a fraction of the exchange.
Shadow stepped in, Aurora swung her scythe, and before Alexia knew it,
there was blood everywhere.
And the one who'd gone down…was Aurora.
The result was quick and unsatisfying. It was like watching a lion snap a
lamb's neck.
Nobody could tell what Shadow had done or what happened in that final
exchange.
That was why it was so disappointing.
The stadium is dead silent, as if that fierce fight never happened.
"Did she…just lose? That's impossible! She was on the attack!" yelps
Nelson.
He probably thought Aurora was the favorite up until the very last
moment.
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When the tables turn in the space of a single instant, it takes a minute for
people to process the situation. Nelson isn't alone in that. Most of the
spectators still aren't sure they haven't mistaken the defeated for the victor.
"What just happened? There's no way Aurora could lose! She's…!"
Shadow's ebony long coat flutters behind him as he leaps into the night
sky.
"S-stop there! After him! Don't let him get away!" cries Nelson after
returning to his senses.
The confused paladins rouse themselves into motion and scramble after
Shadow.
Alexia suddenly realizes she's been holding her breath. As she exhales,
she tries to memorize Shadow's sword work so as not to forget it.
"His tricks are as astounding as always…" Rose's voice escapes her like a
sigh.
Just as Alexia is about to concur, a blinding light pours into the arena.