Chapitre 42: Exchange of blows (1)
July 7, 1437. Pre-Tournament Match Grounds. 13 Days Until the Tournament.
Raphael Earhart
A week had passed since the initiation matches for the Cadet's Inauguration Tournament, and today, Erin and I were observing the semi-finals. Honestly, it felt more tedious than engaging—I doubted any of these candidates would be a serious opponent for me. But Erin insisted that analyzing others' combat styles and techniques could be useful, and I had to agree, however reluctantly.
We sat on the high stands, roughly six meters above the arena, with a perfect view of the sparring below. Today's match featured Crado—my first training opponent—and a girl wielding a rifle.
Crado had improved significantly over the years. His strikes were more composed and deliberate, utilizing his spear with practiced precision. He infused his weapon with aura and skillfully threw flaming daggers, forcing his opponent to keep moving, staying out of his range. He knew she needed time to aim, and he was doing everything to keep her from getting a chance to settle. The match played out like a game of high-stakes tag.
— Impressive, — Erin remarked as she watched. — He's actually not bad. Didn't expect this from Crado.
— That's the result of sparring with our young master, — came a voice from the side.
I turned to see a slim boy about my age. His chestnut hair was neatly kept back with a white headband, and his hazel eyes gleamed with restrained curiosity. He was accompanied by four other cadets—two girls and two boys, all dressed in their academy uniforms.
— Apologies for the interruption, — the boy said with a polite bow. — I'm Renald, and these are my friends—Elvira, Liana, Elias, and Mark.
The group followed his lead, nodding respectfully.
— No trouble, — I replied with a nod of my own.
A lighthearted smile spread across Renald's face.
— Mind if we join you?
— Hey, Renald, — interrupted a tall girl with a serious gaze. — Maybe Lord Raphael would prefer some space.
Elvira looked more mature than her age suggested; her tone and expression made it clear she was the most responsible in their group.
— Oh, sorry! If it's inconvenient, we'll go, — Renald said quickly.
Erin nudged me lightly, leaning in to whisper.
— Let them stay. I'm curious to hear what they'll say.
— Very well, — I agreed, though I wasn't particularly opposed to the company.
The group gathered around us, each with a smile that radiated youthful enthusiasm. Renald took the seat to my right, with Elvira next to Erin on the left, while the others sat behind us.
Since Erin and I had chosen to keep a low profile, we hadn't taken the VIP seats. Instead, these were plain wooden bleachers, rustic and unadorned but free from prying eyes.
— After your incident five years ago, a lot changed, — Renald said, and I could hear genuine admiration in his voice.
He must have been referring to that time I defended Erin from harassment. It had sparked a wave of reform—many high-ranking cadet overseers who had been covering for their favored cadets were removed from their positions. For the Earharts, discipline and integrity were non-negotiable, especially in training the young.
— Glad to hear things improved, — I replied. — But honestly, that wasn't my goal.
Renald nodded, understanding.
— I can't help but admire how much you care for her. Some say you and Erin make a great pair!
I felt an intense gaze drilling into the back of my head—cold, sharp, and unyielding as a blade. Turning slightly, I glanced at Erin. Even in the dim lighting of the stands, her eyes were practically flashing lightning in my direction.
Why is she glaring at me? It wasn't even my comment!
It didn't take a genius to realize that her irritation was aimed directly at me, not some abstract annoyance.
— We're just comrades, — I said, trying to keep my voice steady. — Don't make it sound as if we're married.
— Oh, sorry if I embarrassed you…
A dull smack resounded. Renald doubled over, clutching his head as though the weight of the world had just come crashing down on him. The hit was so forceful, even I flinched.
— I told you to behave, — Elvira reprimanded, casting an annoyed glance my way.
— Ouch, that hurt!
— Serves you right, — Mark snickered, openly enjoying Renald's pain.
— Couldn't agree more; he needed that, — Liana huffed with a grin.
— Actually, a punch might've done him more good, — added Elias with a smirk, clearly savoring the moment.
— Why are you all so cruel… — Renald groaned, trying to look offended.
An expression of mixed offense and resignation settled on his face as the others continued laughing at his expense.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Erin covering her mouth to stifle a laugh, sitting right next to Harumi, who seemed equally entertained. It looked like everyone in the stands had found something to amuse themselves with.
Well, at least they were enjoying it.
Meanwhile, the fight in the arena was drawing to a close. Crado stood at the center, ready for his final strike, his muscles tense as he prepared to end it in a single decisive blow. His opponent—a pale-faced girl—was exhausted, barely able to stay on her feet. She had only managed a few shots throughout the entire match, and they had missed, while Crado pressed on relentlessly, combining his attacks with bursts of magic.
At first glance, it looked like he was confidently heading toward victory, but…
— He's burning through his energy too quickly, — Elvira observed, watching every movement intently.
I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. She had a sharp eye, noticing details most people here wouldn't even think of.
— What do you mean? — Mark asked, looking at her questioningly.
— Look at how he's wearing down his opponent, but at what cost? He's wasted a lot of mana and stamina, — Elvira explained, her gaze never wavering from the arena.
— What does it matter if he's winning anyway?
— It matters if this isn't his last fight, — she shrugged. — Imagine if his next opponent realizes this weakness and manages to wear him down. Crado might find himself out of strength when it really counts.
I nodded internally, admiring her insight. Crado's strategy felt a lot like a one-time trick—a straight-arrow approach. It was good to see someone evolve beyond just brute-forcing, but if his fighting style didn't adapt, it would soon grow predictable. Repetition, after all, has a way of becoming boring.
The question was, did he realize this? If he did, he had a chance to surprise everyone and go far. But if not…well, his journey in the Tournament would be short, and he wouldn't even understand why.
Sure enough, Crado moved into his final stance. His spear glided toward his opponent's neck with a swift, decisive motion, pinning her as if she were prey. She gasped, raising her hand in surrender. The match was over. Crado had won.
Applause echoed through the stands. I noticed that even the other cadets, including those set to fight in the next rounds, clapped, acknowledging his determination and effort.
Erin and the others joined in as well, respectfully applauding his performance.
I, however, remained somewhat indifferent, offering a couple of polite claps. Truthfully, these kinds of matches had started to feel a bit dull to me, especially after getting used to facing opponents like Aurora.
Or…facing more dangerous enemies in my past life, where every fight was a matter of life or death. It's hard to find joy in harmless games when you know what real battle feels like.
— You know, — Renald started, clapping, — that guy trains a lot. He and dozens of other cadets have set their sights on becoming your knights when you take on the role of Guardian.
I didn't turn to him, keeping my gaze on Crado as he bowed to the spectators.
— I appreciate hearing that, — I replied slowly. — But they need to understand that things around me aren't as simple as with other family members. If they truly want to be my support, they'll have to grow stronger and smarter than they are now.
— Don't worry, they know, — Renald reassured me.
— Good. Then I'll wait for them to reach that level.
We didn't discuss it further. For the next few hours, we watched the remaining matches, and by evening, the first finalists for the main Initiation Tournament had been announced. Among them was Crado, whose strategy, although somewhat straightforward, had proven effective.
— Who would've thought it'd get so intense! — Mark exclaimed as we made our way down from the stands.
— It really was quite fun, — Erin agreed, still smiling.
Outside, we exited the arena, and I put my mask back on, glancing at the time. Eight in the evening. Unlike in past years, my brothers and I weren't required to have dinner together, so there was no need to rush home. A thought crossed my mind to suggest a quick training session with Erin, but then Renald called out to us.
— My lord, would you mind training with us a bit?
I almost chuckled—he'd read my mind. But I raised an eyebrow and asked coolly,
— You do realize you're asking to train with a potential Tournament opponent, right?
— Ha! Don't worry; out of all of us, only Liana and I are participating. And we're not here to spy on your tactics or anything like that. It's just always exciting to spar with someone strong, right?
An interesting approach. It seemed he understood me. Although, to be honest, I would've preferred to skip any fights and enjoy a peaceful evening and a good meal instead.
— Well, this is unexpected, — Elvira teased, a smirk spreading across her face. — Renald actually asking for training? You usually skip sparring sessions, whining about stomachaches. What's gotten into you?
— Heh-heh, just taking advantage of the opportunity! When else will I get to train with Raphael Earhart?
The way he said it made me cringe internally.
Too flattering.
— Fine, I don't mind. How about the rest of you? — I glanced around at the others.
— We're in, — Elvira answered enthusiastically, her grin wide, while the rest nodded in agreement. Even Erin agreed, though with a hint of embarrassment.
— Alright, then let's head to the training grounds. There's a suitable hall inside the arena.
With that, we turned and made our way back to the entrance.
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