Sword fights, I hear them.

　The sound of swords joining swords, their iron sobs echoing through the air. The sound, repeated over and over again, wells up the arena of the Garleist. Voices burst forth, and the arena itself swelled, as if it were a living organism.

　However, this was not in praise of an evenly matched battle. It was not a cheer of enjoyment for a close battle of overlapping swords.

　It was only in anticipation of which one's blood would stain the air, and when it would paint the sands of the arena red. That's what I'm hoping for.

　In the midst of the ugly cheers, her golden hair swayed.

　She parries and dispels the repeated swings of her opponent's huge body, sometimes stopping them with her own sword.

　It made me think that he was on the defensive, that he had no way to attack, and that his life was now beyond the fangs of a raging beast. The audience's voice becomes a louder whirlpool, leaping up the sand. Don't die so easily. As if to say, "Let me have more fun for my money.

　I wonder if he's living up to that expectation. The owner of the golden hair slipped past the slash of the greatsword master, just barely missing.

　Was it something like this? No, I'm sure he wasn't like this. He wasn't this powerful, he wasn't this sharp, but...

　--Still, he was much stronger than this.

　The golden right eye flickered.

　The greatsword swung as if to aim at the unseen left side. I see that the blow was probably more thought out than his. But still...

　The gold gleamed. The double-edged sword in his hand cut through the space with great speed. He opened his body halfway, dodged the huge sword that came at him from the left as if it were spinning, and then kept going.

　--Then, just like that...

　The sound was like a caress in the wind. Just a sound like a blade passing through the air. It was just that, and what seemed to be a fierce battle was easily settled.

　Blood spurted from the neck of the hulking man wielding the great sword, as if to escape. Blood gushed from the neck of the hulking man who was wielding the great sword, as if he were such a creature by nature.

"The winner, Held Stanley!

　The arena once again roars as a living thing.


　"Held, you are that creature.


"You don't know how to take care of yourself, Held. For my taste, I welcome it. But as an uncle, I'm totally against it.

　In the arena of the Garaist Kingdom, in a room that could not be called a waiting room, but was merely a pile of bricks, Buckingham Stanley was there. Herdt blinked his golden eyes.

　His uncle was certainly an eccentric, but his eccentricities had diminished in recent years. I never thought I'd see him here.

"Uncle, as the head of the cathedral, I'm not going to do anything out of line. Besides, it's good training.

　Helt let his cheeks relax lightly as he replied. Buckingham looked both pleased and not-so-pleased.

　Herdt could understand his uncle's feelings as easily as he could understand his own.

　With the fall of the walled city of Galuamaria, the family name of Stanley had lost its stronghold.

　All that remained was the name. My father, the head of the family, was missing, and I, the next head of the family, lost my left eye and was unconscious for a while. When he finally regained consciousness, he was swinging his sword at will in the arena. Whoever he was, he could have predicted what his uncle was thinking.

　However, even though Heldt understood his feelings, he could not stop himself. I am able to live a more or less decent life here in Gerleist. That's definitely because of my uncle. I understand that more than enough.

　If the man I once was could see me now, he would say. That what you're doing is not right. It's not a good thing.

　But no. It's not. I'm convinced now that this is right. If I didn't do this, I wouldn't be able to hold on to the emotions that are sobbing through my body. I would have to throw my body into the blood of the struggle to maintain my sanity.

　A moment of silence, neither Heldt nor Buckingham opening their mouths. Then, Buckingham slowly opened his mouth.

　The calmness of his voice had lost some of its jocularity, and the dignity of the acting head of the family seemed to cling to his voice as well as the beard around his mouth.

　Herdt felt as if his uncle had lost some of his fun as a human being.

"I'll tell you what. Rejoice, the time has finally come to cut off the heads of those who have defiled our homeland with their feet. How wonderful!

　The heat of the battle had died down, and there was no one to be seen in the arena, a mere mass of bricks and clay from the cheering creatures. At best, when it rains, vagrants come by to seek shelter.

　Perhaps that's why my uncle's voice was strangely tense as he happily announced the day's decisions.

　Hearing Buckingham's hawk nose wagging and twisting to finish his sentence, Heldt's cheeks involuntarily fell. It was as if he couldn't take it anymore.

"I'm very happy for you, my nephew!

　Oh, how the uncle of old would have understood the meaning of this laugh! A slight sorrow piled up in the back of Heldt's chest, as if the uncle he once adored had gone far away.

No, it's not. He couldn't help but laugh at the idea that it wouldn't work. Everyone has made a terrible mistake.



　Heldt's words fell onto the dry sand, the wind whipping up the sand. Buckingham's eyes widened, as if he was trying to gauge the true meaning of his words.

I know exactly what I'm talking about. He couldn't possibly die from something like that.

　It's funny. You can't kill him with a trick.

　There's no way he could do that. He wouldn't die for that. I don't know about witches and their so-called women.

　I let out a breath as I pull my cloak over my shoulders to go outside. It's much colder now. But the blood in my body is hot, as if to rebel against the cold. The heat of battle can't even offset it.

　This fever has been going on since that night.

　Surely the opponent he fought in the arena today was sharper with his sword, stronger than him, and more experienced than him. But still, he was the stronger one. My hand remembers it, my left eye remembers it.

"Held, your words seem to say what you wish they would. What do you think you're doing? What do you have in mind?

　Buckingham's lips quirked up in wonder. Buckingham waggles his lips curiously, as if he's struggling with the fact that Heldt's words sound more like a conviction than a desire, as if he's trying to figure out how to bounce back.

　Heldt's shoulders cowered, his right eye flashed, and he opened his mouth. His lips were a little lost.

I wonder what he'll say. Surely he's the enemy. And he said he had to be.

　Yes, on the battlefield. That's what he said during the Garouamalia sword fight. Otherwise, he'd just crawl in misery.

　I wonder if that's true.

　In a world completely different from this one, in a time when I turned a completely different page, I wonder how I and he were. Were we enemies who chopped off each other's heads, or were we allies who rubbed shoulders with each other? That much I do not know. All I know is this.

But if I had to guess, I would say that I wanted to be friends with him, with Lugis, with my friend.

　No one has ever been able to match his fangs with his own. When I can remember, everyone thought I was special, and there was no one who even tried to catch up with me.

　Before I knew it, I had even accepted that the world and people were like that.

　But what about him, Lugis? He is the only one who has sharpened his fangs with me, and even surpassed me with his sword. The one who reached out to catch up with me.

　I think that's what I was looking for as a friend. Unspeakable emotions swirled around in my heart.

　My blood is hot.