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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Xrecker
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The semifinal matches were scheduled to begin at 10 AM.
This was, after all, the main event of the exchange.
The attention of all the demons gathered was focused on the martial arts tournament.
As the saying went, the most entertaining spectacles were a raging fire and a good fight.
And this tournament, in a way, offered both. With demons as contestants, some could actually breathe fire.
Anyway, that’s how it was.
The three-day tournament would conclude today.
I ate breakfast early and, after lounging around in my room for a while, headed to the arena.
“Hey! Good luck!”
“Give us a good fight today!”
“Patrasche! Patrasche! Patrasche!”
More and more people recognized me now.
Or rather, they recognized the dog mask I wore. My fame had grown considerably.
Camilla, following me like a shadow from a distance, remained inconspicuous. A precaution to prevent my true identity from being revealed.
I pushed through the throng of demons and finally reached the arena.
Ozma had said she would be arriving later, so I assumed I was the first to arrive.
“Oh, you’re here.”
But I was mistaken. Someone was already in the waiting room.
Gav, shirtless as always, his muscular torso on full display, sat cross-legged on a desk and greeted me.
“You’re early.”
“Well, I don’t have much to do in the morning.”
Gav grinned and asked,
“Where’s Ozma?”
“She said she’d be here later.”
I finally understood why Ozma had said she would be late.
Having participated in the tournament countless times, she must have known Gav’s habits.
She probably wanted to avoid him until the tournament officially began.
Since Camilla was in the audience, and I didn’t want to draw attention to myself, I decided to wait in the contestant waiting room.
The tournament would begin in thirty minutes anyway.
To kill time, I helped myself to the refreshments provided and asked,
“By the way, where did you learn Ki Arts?”
“Huh? Oh, this? I traveled to the Eastern continent a long time ago. An old man I met there taught me.”
A skilled warrior or martial artist was often described as having a pure aura.
While the fundamental energy was the same, its form could vary depending on the user.
Gav was a master martial artist. He hadn’t achieved his skill level overnight.
His attire had a distinct Eastern feel, suggesting he had spent a considerable amount of time there.
This time, Gav asked me a question.
“You also seem to have trained your body. Did you learn Ki Arts as well?”
I shook my head.
“No, I learned something else.”
“Then?”
“It’s called Magic Arts. A fusion of magic and Ki Arts.”
“Hmm?”
Gav’s expression turned to one of curiosity.
“Such a thing exists? I’ve never heard of it.”
I nodded in agreement.
“It was only a theory until my master, the creator of Magic Arts, brought it into existence.”
“Interesting, very interesting.”
Gav stroked his chin.
“I want to fight you even more now.”
I shrugged.
“But you have to fight someone else first.”
“You mean Ozma?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t worry. Even if she’s gotten stronger, she can’t defeat me.”
“She’s much stronger than before. You’ll regret underestimating her.”
Gav laughed heartily and slapped his knee.
“I think I’m being objective. You know as well as I do that a dragon’s hide is impenetrable to most magic. Even in polymorph form. If dragons could be defeated with a little magic, there would be dragon slayers everywhere.”
“…”
He had a point.
Dragons, the incarnations of the elements, were incredibly powerful, even if they were few in number.
Ordinary magic would barely scratch their hides. They were masters of mana manipulation.
Seeing my silence, Gav rested his chin on his hand and asked,
“Are you in love with Ozma?”
“No. Why do you ask?”
“They say men can’t think straight when they’re in love. And Ozma is a fine female.”
“I’ve never thought of her that way.”
“Then why are you so confident in her victory?”
“Because she’s worked hard. She deserves a reward.”
While I hadn’t known Ozma for long, she was a person of unwavering dedication.
She would see things through to the end if she believed she was right.
I had never seen her skip a day of training.
Even with her privileged position as the Demon Lord’s daughter, she trained relentlessly to become stronger.
Day by day, she was improving.
She would soon break through her limits.
And what better way to do that than by defeating her rival, the one she hadn’t been able to defeat in thirty-four years?
Gav’s expression turned serious.
He had clearly never considered it from that perspective.
“Ozma thinks of me that way?”
“I’m sure every demon who has participated in this tournament multiple times feels the same way.”
He had reigned as champion for fifty years.
After so long, shouldn’t he step down?
For the sake of the countless challengers who respected him.
Gav’s expression was graver than I had ever seen it.
He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn’t even respond when I called his name.
Not wanting to disturb him, I decided to go to the bathroom.
As I opened the door, I saw Ozma, her face slightly flushed.
“Oh.”
“Ah.”
She quickly backed away, embarrassed.
She had said she would be late, but she had arrived on time.
I checked the clock. The tournament would begin in ten minutes.
She wasn’t late after all.
“Are you going in?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah.”
Thankfully, I hadn’t said anything bad about her while talking to Gav.
Ozma, her expression slightly dazed, turned to leave, then paused and said,
“Thank you for what you said earlier. I didn’t think you would stand up for me.”
“That’s surprising. Do I seem that heartless?”
“No, um… it’s just that no one has ever acknowledged my efforts before.”
She scratched her cheek, embarrassed, then blurted out,
“It’s… not a bad feeling.”
“…I’m glad to hear that.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn’t mad at me.
She touched the hilt of her sword.
“Today will be the fight of my life. So, watch me.”
I nodded.
“Of course.”
“Good.”
For the first time, Ozma smiled.
Her boyish appearance had hidden her beauty.
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At 10 AM, the final day of the tournament began.
My semifinal opponent was Adolf, who had fought his way up from the bottom of Block A. I heard he was a notorious demon during the Human-Demon War.
Adolf, a Baphomet with a goat’s head, just like Seneca, the Demon Lord’s steward, stared at me with his unsettling, horizontal eyes.
“You look… tasty. I wonder what you taste like.”
I clenched my orichalcum knuckles.
“You like meat?”
“…So?”
“Then savor the taste of it now.”
I tightened my grip on my knuckles.
“Because from now on, you’ll only be eating soup.”
Unfortunately, dental implants hadn’t been invented in this world yet.
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Thanks Xrecker!