Thirty minutes earlier, inside the royal cabin.
Luvrio's butler steward gently tapped his master on the shoulder.
Luvrio blinked as though suddenly remembering something important. Rising from his chair, he gave a courteous bow to the other members of the royal family. "Excuse me. It seems it's time for me to go. This morning I sprayed a dose of Anti-Mutant Over Beast repellent in a section of the Yggdrasil Forest where mutated Over Beasts have been frequently sighted. I need to check whether it worked," he explained apologetically.
"That's unfortunate, little brother Luvrio. Still, these are only the preliminaries. Most of the truly spectacular matches won't begin until the official tournament. You're not missing too much, though I hope you'll are there for the finals," Sequoria said warmly.
"Of course, big sister. I wouldn't miss the finals for anything in the world," Luvrio replied, smiling with his usual gentle expression.
Aislyra and Lucas also offered their farewells before Luvrio departed the cabin.
"I'm sorry Luvrio had to leave, but now that no one remains who is unaware of our secret, it should be easier to speak freely, don't you think, Your Majesty?" Aislyra said once the door closed behind him.
"That may be true," Lucas admitted, "but I regret that he won't be able to enjoy the opening day of the tournament."
"That's true. Though now that I think about it, it is strange. He's always loved watching the matches, so for him to miss even a single day… This invention of his must be very important for him," Aislyra added thoughtfully.
"Aislyra, you know your uncle Luvrio. He has always possessed an unshakable sense of duty. For him, an invention that could prove valuable to this kingdom is, at least for now, more important than the Tournament of the Golden Tree," Sequoria explained, then nodded toward the arena. "Anyway, look—Chiacchera is about to announce the first participant of the match."
At the announcement, Gilciso stepped into the arena.
Aislyra's expression twisted into one caught between irritation and distaste. "Gilciso, huh..." she muttered with open disgust.
Even Sequoria, who was renowned for her kindness, wore a conflicted expression at the sight of the first challenger.
Lucas, however, was puzzled. The muted applause and lack of enthusiasm from the audience clashed with what he expected from someone with such a title. "What's going on? Isn't he the vice commander of the Royal Knights? Why does everyone seem unhappy to see him? Isn't he supposed to be strong?" Lucas asked, clearly confused.
"He is strong," Aislyra admitted bitterly. "Even if he's barely able to serve as a proper sparring partner for Fortore, there aren't many in this kingdom capable of that. But his personality is unbearable. He's insufferably arrogant and quick-tempered, and on top of that, he's 'famous' for belonging to a faction of elves who believe in the absolute superiority of our race over all others. Thankfully, that mindset is not widespread here—but as you can see from those nobles flaunting their wealth and applauding his arrival, the faction isn't entirely gone either."
Lucas recalled what Sequoria had already told him of these supremacist elves. Before she became queen, their numbers and influence had been far greater. Many had plotted underhandedly to spark wars with neighboring human kingdoms. Upon discovering their schemes, Sequoria had crushed the faction—executing many of its leaders, exiling others, and scattering the rest. Those who remained were little more than petty supremacists, arrogant but mostly harmless. Still, the fact that the vice-captain of the most prestigious military force in the realm was among them was… troubling.
"Are we sure it's wise to have someone like that in such a position?" Lucas asked with suspicion.
"I understand your concern, given what I've told you," Sequoria answered patiently. "But you need not worry. Gilciso is unwaveringly loyal to my daughter Alberia—and therefore to you as well—and to Fortore. In fact, he sees the two of you as the perfect embodiment of what an elf should be. It's only his temperament that leaves much to be desired," she admitted with a trace of embarrassment.
"I see. Well… if he isn't breaking the law and is performing his duties as vice-captain properly, then I suppose there's no real problem. I just hope it stays that way," Lucas said, though without much conviction.
With that, the three of them turned their attention back to the arena. The announcer was about to introduce the second participant—only to be interrupted when word arrived that the challenger was late.
Present
"Miyamoto Musashi!!!" Chiacchera roared, his voice echoing through the arena like a thunderclap.
"Yes, I knew it!" Lucas suddenly leapt to his feet, fist clenched in triumph.
Aislyra smirked at his outburst, clearly amused by her new big sister's enthusiasm. "From that reaction, I take it you already knew who this Miyamoto Musashi is? And you figured it out before the announcement?"
Lucas's cheeks flushed as he realized how impulsively he had reacted. Clearing his throat, he explained, "Yes. His clothes were traditional garments from a country in my world called Japan. That immediately made me think he might be a hero summoned from there. Then, when he mentioned needing two swords to fight at full strength, my theory grew stronger. Miyamoto Musashi is probably the most famous historical figure from my world known for wielding two swords, and he lived in Japan. So, if he really was a hero, I was almost certain it had to be Musashi."
"You seem to know quite a lot about him. Was he a historical figure you were especially interested in?" Aislyra asked, curious.
"Not really," Lucas admitted. "He just showed up often in the fictional stories I enjoyed. Most of what I know about him comes from those tales, which were written long after his death. So I can't be sure how much of it reflects the real Musashi, who lived roughly four hundred years before I was born. I did do some quick research online about the historical figure, but even then, my knowledge is patchy."
Sequoria's eyes gleamed with curiosity. "Then, son, you should at least be able to share a little about who this swordsman was in your world, yes?"
"A little, yes," Lucas replied, then began his account. "Miyamoto Musashi is, without question, the most famous swordsman in Japan history. As far as records tell us, he never lost a formal duel, and he fought more than sixty. He also founded a school of swordsmanship famous for its style that uses two blades. Unfortunately, I can't remember the school's name, though as far as I know it's still practiced in Japan today. He also wrote a book titled The Book of Five Rings, which remains one of the most famous works on military strategy."
A grin spread across Aislyra's face. "This sounds like exactly the kind of opponent I'd love to face."
The three women turned their attention back to the arena as the match was about to begin.
Gilciso, however, was seething. 'How dare this human keep me waiting for nearly half an hour? Hero or not, in the end he is nothing but a worm—a stupid human worm who dared to make the queen herself wait for a match! I will show no mercy.'
At the center of the arena, Musashi walked calmly forward, one hand rubbing his stomach. "Ah… the food in the cafeteria is truly amazing. I haven't eaten anything this delicious in months," he declared with a satisfied grin.
Gilciso's eyes practically bulged from his skull. "ARE YOU TELLING ME THAT YOU KEPT ME WAITING BECAUSE YOU DECIDED TO SIT AND ENJOY BREAKFAST?!" he bellowed, his face turning an alarming shade of blue.
"I'm sorry," Musashi answered casually, still smiling. "But last night I stayed up late training. Around one in the morning, I came to the arena to see if I could enter early, and thankfully, they let me in. I was shown to my room and ended up spending the rest of the night there. The bed was so comfortable that I overslept. Luckily, some kind guards woke me up and reminded me I had thirty minutes before being disqualified, so I took the chance to enjoy a proper breakfast. After all, I didn't eat dinner yesterday."
Gilciso's patience snapped. He began muttering the same phrase like a curse, over and over: "I'll kill you. I'll kill you. I'll kill you. I'll kill you. I'll kill you. I'll kill you. I'll kill you…"
Referee Pinusal stepped forward, glancing between the two. "Do either of you have anything else you wish to say before the match begins?"
Musashi shook his head calmly. Gilciso, face red and veins throbbing, roared, "OF COURSE NOT! START THE MATCH ALREADY SO I CAN ERADICATE THIS VERMIN FROM EXISTENCE!"
"Very well. The fight will begin on my signal," Pinusal announced, raising his hand. "Ready…"
At the very instant the word ready left Pinusal lips, Musashi's relaxed demeanor vanished. His face hardened into sharp focus, and his hand hovered, poised to seize one of the twin katanas at his waist.
"Start… GO!" Pinusal shouted.
"I will kill you with a single blow, filthy human!" Gilciso roared. Without hesitation, he drew a weapon Lucas had not expected: a battle axe of ordinary size, the kind Lucas could easily have seen displayed in a museum back in his world. With a guttural cry, Gilciso charged straight at Musashi. When he was finally close enough to strike, he chanted, "Weight Increment —enhancement, six thousand kilos!" At once, the axe's blade flared with a sinister purple glow, and Gilciso swung with murderous intent, aiming to cleave his opponent in two.
But Musashi had already unsheathed one of his katanas. With effortless precision, he redirected the deadly strike.
Gilciso froze, stunned for a fraction of a second—just long enough for Musashi to draw his second katana and counterattack. Yet, moving with startling speed, Gilciso twisted aside, narrowly avoiding the strike and landing half a meter from his foe.
Musashi exhaled, his tone calm, almost conversational. "Fast—very fast. People in this world tend to be far quicker than I'm used to. Even after four years here, I still haven't completely adjusted. That's thanks to this sorcery—physical empowerment, yes? Unfortunately for me, I've never been particularly skilled at using such sorcery to improve my speed…"
"No, you stupid worm," Gilciso snapped. "The proper name is physical enhancement. And this flaw of yours will cost you one of your blades. You should have dodged my attack. There's no way your sword could still be—"
His words faltered. He stared at Musashi's katana, the very blade that had deflected his six-ton strike. It gleamed, utterly unscathed.
"HOW IS YOUR SWORD STILL INTACT, WORM?!" Gilciso bellowed, enraged.
Musashi tilted his head, his voice relaxed. "What? Isn't it obvious? You saw it yourself. I didn't parry your attack—I deflected it."
"IT DOESN'T MATTER! Just attempting that should have shattered your weapon! YOU WORM, IS THAT KATANA A MAGICAL ARTIFACT?!"
Musashi offered no explanation—only a faint, enigmatic smile.
"HOW DARE YOU REFUSE TO ANSWER, YOU INFERIOR BEING!" Gilciso screamed, his fury boiling over. Deciding he would discover the truth himself, he charged again, blinded by rage.
Meanwhile, in the royal cabin, Aislyra explained calmly, "The katana Musashi used to deflect Gilciso's axe is indeed an exceptional blade, but it's still just a sword forged from normal metal. I examined it carefully yesterday at the weapon shop. It's no magical artifact, unlike my Ice Burn."
Lucas frowned. "But then how did it not break? The blade of that axe weighed more than six tons."
"It's simple," Aislyra answered, her lips curling into a grin. "Musashi already admitted it. He redirected the full weight of Gilciso's blow using nothing but pure technique. His sword didn't even suffer a scratch." Her eyes gleamed with rising excitement. "You were right, Lucas. That Musashi is a true master swordsman. In terms of sheer technique, he's far beyond even Fo or myself."
Back in the arena, Musashi spoke again, almost as if he were lecturing. "But I forgot to mention something else…" Yet Gilciso ignored him entirely, too consumed by his fury.
Tightening his grip on the axe with both hands, Gilciso bellowed, "Weight Increment —enhancement, one hundred and fifty thousand kilos!" The weapon's weight now rivaled that of a blue whale. With a primal roar, he swung downward with every ounce of his strength, aiming to annihilate Musashi.
Musashi, however, did not waver. "Although I may not rival others here in raw speed, I'm confident that my reflexes are second to none," he declared.
At the last instant, he slipped nimbly aside, the colossal axe crashing uselessly into the arena floor, stone shattering under its mass. Before Gilciso could react, Musashi brought the blunt edge of one katana down hard upon his opponent's skull.
The impact reverberated like a hammer blow. Gilciso's eyes rolled back, and he collapsed instantly, unconscious before his body even struck the ground.
The match was over.
The victor of this battle was none other than the legendary swordsman—Miyamoto Musashi.