Chapitre 12: Chapter 12: One Month's Worth
Confetti swayed in the air, boosted up by the cheers of the crowds. The hundreds of triangle flags swayed lightly while balloons floated up in the sky. The sounds of the happy people drifted to all the ears, carrying along the scent of the wares from the hundreds of stalls leading to the arena outside the central fountain of the city of Poseidonia.
Young children held the hands of their parents while the working youth held the mugs of ale and moonshine tightly in their hands on their way to the arena.
"More and more people keep coming in! The time to start the competition is just a few minutes away, so make haste folks~!" A loud voice amplified with magic spread through the arena and the stadium around it before crossing over the seats and touching down to the stalls as well.
"We have managed to gather quite the people as our judges this time around, right, my co-host, Doggyman Dogdog?"
"Woof! Woof woof!"
"You've spoken the heart of the onlookers, my friend!"
The voices of the two hosts were like the callings of a shopkeeper to housewives, announcing the beginning of a stock clearance sale, it attracted the ones that heard even a whisper and had them dancing to the hosts' beats.
"Now then, it's time to announce our judges!!" The host's voice boomed and a fill-in of cheers followed. "The first on the bench, the captain of the Royal Knight Order, Sir Kalyufis von Sauer!"
Explosive cheers emerged from the audience, while the blonde old man in pure white armor waved his hands at them.
"Next, the master of the blade! The greatest instructor of the empire—"
The host rushed through the announcements of the four judges, all the while hyping up the crowd. He would list off their achievements, and exaggerated rumors of their skills and deeds, all of it to increase the crowds' excitement and expectation.
"The last on the panel! The youngest flower of the Kaiser Earldom. A woman whose blade has made as big a name as her beauty!"
People would imagine, and the regality of the judges would only supplement that imagination.
"With her sword that tore apart the mountains of Capaerus and its bandits all at once, she took the first position in the Swordsmanship Competition at the ripe age of 18!"
Then, even subpar performances would leave people greatly satisfied, with just the simple trick of supplementing reality with their imagination.
"Please welcome, Lady Kriste et Kaiser!"
"OOOH!!"
Another wave of cheers surged through the audience. Wasting time was not to the host or the organization committee's taste, it was the perfect chance to call the flashiest yet the least thrilling of the battles and push the nail on the head. Giving the most graceful the easiest win was the way to go here.
"Now, please welcome to the stage, the first combatants! Vedeo de Comera, and.... Opera Mask Magician Swordsman!"
It didn't matter even if some people in the audience were dissatisfied, since ten more of their own would suppress the dissatisfaction with contentment. And the people would mistake the contentment of others for their own. It would be great if the battles were just that interesting, but the empire was prepared for everything.
"Opera Mask Magician Swordsman...?" the host called out. "Umm... Opera Mask Magician Swordsman...?"
To his displeasure, though, a response never came from the other end. Like a giant wave crashing into the sea, the absence of their most flashy fighter washed away the sand castle of excitement that the competition committee had built up.
"Sweet Arete! We have the first abandonment in the competition already!?"
"WOOF!"
"You are right, Doggyman Dogdog! Just how terrifying is Vedeo de Comera that he would make the very first fighter leave of fear!?" Low at the middle, placing the right words at the end and the beginning, the host modulated his voice to instill a sense of suspense in the audience, and cheers rang out again as the competitor was declared the victor by default.
The wave had rescinded, the sand castle survived.
The Imperial Swordsmanship Competition began in full swing!
***
A black sleeve pressed against the abrasive cement wall as a man leaned his head against his hand, and his hand against the walls of the alleyway buildings. He pulled back his other hand, clenched in a fist, and slammed it against the wall.
With a sigh, the man calmed his trembling body and stepped back. He slowly pulled off the white opera mask covering half his face, only to reveal his sharp golden eyes squinted down by a whole half a millimeter while a stream of blood emerged from his lightly bit lip.
"Y-young lord..." Joel raised his hands and waved them down, but his pacification was useless against his lord's range.
"Joel..." Isaac muttered. "Did you know...?"
"I-I thought... you would know..."
Isaac closed his eyes and slammed the wall again. An almost mechanical thud emerged from the force that was inhumanely equivalent to the last.
The only reason he came here.
The only reason he wasted an entire month researching something he would never need again.
The only one he hoped to be able to convey his feelings to with the sword.
That one person... was a judge.
There was never any chance of fighting her, let alone communicating with her.
"Couldn't you have still fought, young lord?"
"What's the point? What good would fighting the clowns in the competition do me? I only ever wished to trade blows with that one."
"Still... if it was scaring her, beating the others would work too."
Considering he could, which he couldn't, beating others was of no use to Isaac whatsoever. He didn't want to scare her, but to profess his love for her. On another note, just what was his butler on about?
"I'll feed you to the damn Tetras, Joel... She was a judge!"
Ah, what would he call this immense grief of his heart? What was he to call the mind-numbing lament of his soul?
"M-my lord... before that." Joel, having completely accepted his fate as the food of Isaac's nonexistent pet fishes moved on to the next matter of urgency, albeit, his tone still shook. He slowly bowed his head and raised a letter toward the lord. "There was a letter for you... from some man named Johan Bertile.
Isaac's frown did a one-eighty as he sucked up the flowing blood back to zero and snatched the letter off of Joel's hands. He tore the envelope open faster than a toddler on Christmas and snapped the letter up. His eyes ran over the words engraved, with each of their movements the smile returning to his face.
"Prepare for a dinner, Joel."
"Oh?" the butler raised his eyebrow and looked up at his master. The absurdly sad face that was nigh indistinguishable from his neutral face was now replaced by a happy face that too, was nigh indistinguishable from his neutral face, or at least Joel guessed so.
His master tore the bottom of the letter and handed it to Joel.
"Prepare it accordingly. The greatest feast of my life is upon us."
As Joel read the letters scribed on the paper, he came to a realization. But he had to ask first.
"Who, shall you be inviting, young lord?"
"The lady of Kaiser... Lady Kristine et Kaiser."
... His master's current face, might just have been one of extreme sadism.
Sadism he would be more than glad to indulge in.
Cadeaux
-- Cadeau
reçu État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone