The first round of the match is about to begin I'm currently in the dressing room with other nine orphanages who will participate in this match.
Tension is high in the air, no one is mood to talk with anyone.
This could there last match after all.
But I'm different, I'm going to win this no matter what.
My thoughts went back to yesterday as I remembered I had made the promise to Sonu.
[ Flashback ]
Sitting on the bed in the orphanage dormitory's four-person room, I examined my reflection in the mirror. It was a stark contrast to the Kevin I remembered from my previous life.
Golden hair that resembled the unruly mane of a stray dog framed my face. My deep-blue eyes held a hint of determination. The face, while still retaining traces of baby fat, had matured. At just under 170 centimetres in height, I wasn't particularly tall, but I had a physique I could be somewhat proud of.
This was me at eighteen, and I was far from done growing.
Ordinarily, by the age of eighteen, most people's growth begins to slow down and their bodies settle into a relatively stable physique. But I was an exception.
In this new timeline, I continued to grow taller and stronger, defying the limits set by my previous life.
Of course, this growth wasn't unlimited. Eventually, my body would reach a point where it adapted to the relentless onslaught of cancer cells and developed a certain level of resistance.
But for now, I had gained nearly 30 centimetres in height. My bones and muscles had grown more robust, and my already good proportions had transformed into a physique well-suited for combat.
It was this physical development that allowed me to survive in the harsh environment I found myself in. My insides might have been rotting due to the cancer, but the exterior had become tough and resilient.
"For a week, I've been diligently practising the basic training I learned from Gun-man, and tomorrow is the day of the match."
I sighed, feeling the aches and fatigue in my muscles. Copy-and-Do might provide the knowledge, but putting it into practice requires time, training, and effort.
However, there was a shortcut to mastering these movements—infusing mana.
If I channelled mana into my body, I could artificially enhance my physical abilities. It was a way to bridge the gap between my knowledge and my actual athletic prowess.
The only downside? The excruciating muscle pain that followed.
"Guess it's time to head out," I muttered to myself, preparing to leave the room and continue my preparations for the upcoming match.
As I settled onto the park bench at the orphanage, a familiar voice called out to me. It was a burly man with a rough appearance, his hands thrust deeply into his pockets as he took a seat beside me.
"You seem pretty relaxed, don't you?" he remarked, his voice tense and teeth gritted.
I shrugged nonchalantly. "There's only one day left. You guys should start resting and managing your condition."
He didn't seem satisfied with my response. "You used to train like a madman even without being told!"
I turned to look at him. His skin bore a dusky hue adorned with freckles, and his shiny, wavy black hair framed a robust physique. He was a distinctive figure, but I couldn't recall his name.
Sighing, I muttered under my breath, "I can't train like that anymore. I've gotten too old. My body isn't in good shape."
"Are you freaking kidding me? What do you mean, old?"
Physical exercise was poison to me, a limitation imposed by my brain tumour. It was something you wouldn't comprehend unless you had experienced it firsthand.
"Enough, you bastard! Even if we're all old enough to be independent soon, those kids will still have to stay here."
He gestured toward a playground in the park's corner, where children laughed and played on swings, climbed jungle gyms, and engaged in games like cops and robbers, hide and seek.
"If we lose, everything will be destroyed. If they get adopted, they're lucky, but if they don't, no one knows which orphanage they'll be scattered to. You know that. They could even be sold to another country!"
He ranted passionately and placed a hand on my shoulder.
"...Ah. Right. You're Sonu."
Suddenly, his identity clicked in my memory.
Sonu.
I remembered this guy from the time when I had to shave my head for brain tumour surgery. He had stood up for me when the orphanage kids were making fun of my shaved head, calling it childish to mock something like that.
"You wanted to be a Knight of Aurelia, didn't you?"
"That's old news," Sonu replied with a slight furrow of his brow, glancing at the sword hanging at his waist, a broadsword.
"You're planning to fight with a sword?"
"I have to. I even got praised by the Instructor. Not as much as you, though. Your dad was a Knight of Aulria."
A Knight of Aulria.
Indeed, my father held that title, albeit as a low-ranking knight.
I shifted my gaze toward the orphanage's playground and asked, "Do you like Aurelia?"
"What? You're freaking crazy. We're here thanks to the Aurelia lords."
"Well, that's the expected response."
My resentment was mine alone.
"Ah, forget it."
Sonu got up and dusted off his pants.
"You're a disappointment."
"Save your disappointment for later. I have no intention of losing."
"Really? Then I'll trust you. There's nothing else I can do but trust."
Sonu expressed his trust with a pout. I couldn't help but smile inwardly. He was a dignified guy, surprisingly mature for an eighteen-year-old.
"Well then, you rest. I'm going to train."
I watched him leave, feeling a sense of camaraderie despite our differences.
[ Flashback ends ]
"There's no need to be nervous. Just show them what you've got. They're not unbeatable."
The instructor's words echoed in my ears as I glanced around the dojo. Small children and slightly older ones were sitting in the stands, along with many teachers from the orphanage. Their presence was meant as support, but it felt like a heavy burden. Approximately 800 pairs of eyes were fixed on us, the nine warriors.
"They're coming."
Sonu's voice trembled with tension as we reached the entrance of the dojo.
—Vroom.
A truck pulled up at the orphanage's entrance, parking neatly in a corner of the training field. One by one, the occupants disembarked.
"Ah, here we are. Nice to meet you."
Approaching us was a bald man who appeared to be in charge. He was dressed quite neatly in leather armor.
"I'm Rohan, the deputy leader of the Claw Warriors Group."
I watched Rohan with a hint of wariness.