Ch. 69
Inside the circular coliseum were five arenas of various sizes, the largest one positioned at the center.
Earlier in the tournament, all five arenas had been used simultaneously for different matches, but now in the final stages, only the main central arena was being used.
Since it was a tournament format, there weren’t many contestants left.
From our academy, everyone had been eliminated early—except for me, the only one who made it to the quarterfinals.
Maybe that’s why the excessive flattery toward me had gotten even worse.
‘I’m only aiming for victory because only the winner gets to make a wish directly to the Emperor…’
Of course, if I were to receive the winner’s certificate, I could always gift it to the headmaster, which would certainly help my future.
The headmaster was the type who’d melt over something like that.
Looking back, I kind of regretted not saying something like “What a beautiful night. This glory is for our dear headmaster,” when the commentator asked for my thoughts earlier.
If I had, the headmaster might’ve been so moved he’d grant me a personal training hall or something.
“Instructor Iritho.”
“What is it, Geenie?”
I tugged urgently at Instructor Iritho’s sleeve as she was watching the Youth Division semifinals.
A woman I hadn’t seen before had appeared in the Emperor’s box seat, which I had a perfect view of from where I sat.
Judging from her presence, she didn’t seem like just another concubine. Sitting next to the Emperor like that…
“Excuse me. Is that the First Empress?”
“Yes, that’s her.”
As expected from an economics professor, she was well-versed in matters like these.
“And the one who almost became the Second Empress… what was her name again?”
“There was a concubine the Emperor favored so much he wanted to elevate her to Second Empress.
Her name was Estia Spodro. But because her origins were too lowly, the attempt was blocked each time.”
“That’s right. Estia Spodro.”
She was Ash’s mother.
Though she’d passed away now, if she had lived, she might’ve become the Second Empress. A tragic figure.
Instructor Iritho seemed quietly pleased at my uncharacteristic curiosity.
“What was her background? She had a surname, so she was a noble, right?”
“She was indeed a noble’s daughter. But merely the daughter of a baron, which made her utterly unfit to become a concubine. Normally, daughters of barons end up as palace maids at best.
There’s a rumor that she caught the Emperor’s eye because she was the only female knight in the Royal Guard.”
If a baron’s daughter is considered lowborn, what does that make me, a viscount’s daughter? Hmph.
“Estia Spodro received fervent affection from the Emperor, but one day, she suddenly vanished. Most believed she’d been poisoned. But no one talked about it, because—”
“I know. I can guess.”
Even I’d heard rumors about the First Empress’s infamous jealousy.
From that point on, Instructor Iritho lowered her voice.
“And then, thirteen years later—just last year—she returned. With a twelve-year-old boy.”
“That was Ash, wasn’t it?”
“It was such a sensational topic that there wasn’t a soul on the continent who didn’t hear about it.
She caused an uproar claiming the boy was the Emperor’s son.”
In the end, Ash was acknowledged as a prince.
His hair and eye color weren’t common enough to deny it.
Prince Aaron de Von Epiros—the Second Prince.
I could only imagine what Ash and his mother went through before he was finally called that.
As someone completely removed from politics, it was impossible to fathom.
“Despite the First Empress’s fiery opposition, the Emperor formally named Estia as a concubine and officially acknowledged the boy as the Second Prince.
That shook the hierarchy among the princes in a way that had never happened before.”
I remembered Ash’s voice, trembling as he mumbled about how his brothers hated him.
“There… there were more princes older than Ash, weren’t there?”
“Oh, you know quite a bit? Yes. The Emperor has many sons.
But until Estia appeared, only two had been officially named as princes—both born of the Empress.”
“I get it now. That’s why Ash’s recognition messed everything up. That untouchable power structure was suddenly threatened.”
What must it feel like to suddenly become the Third Prince, when you used to be the Second?
To suddenly gain a half-brother? No wonder they wouldn’t want to get along.
“People said it was impossible to understand. But the Emperor still went so far as to make Estia a concubine.”
“I wonder why.”
“Because he loved her deeply, I suppose? Given her background, there’s no other explanation.”
“Hmm. I think I heard the Emperor has more than ten children…”
“As far as we know, exactly eleven. Not a particularly high number, considering the length of his reign.”
Ugh. I still couldn’t get used to this world’s polygamy, no matter how many times I heard about it.
I crossed my arms and scowled in the Emperor’s direction.
“Estia’s death wasn’t that long ago, right?”
“She passed away less than half a year after returning to the palace. Her grave soil probably hasn’t even settled yet. If I recall, she died just a few weeks after being officially made a concubine.”
“Wow, then… she must’ve died right after Ash was acknowledged as a prince.”
“Doesn’t that make you think how powerful a mother’s love can be? They say she already didn’t have long to live when she returned.”
Instructor Iritho’s explanation went on.
There were two major theories behind Estia’s sudden disappearance.
One was that she ran away to avoid the Empress’s wrath after realizing she was pregnant with the Emperor’s child.
The other was that she had been pregnant with the child of Lorgan, the Emperor’s nephew and commander of the Royal Guard—a black-haired knight she had been close with—and vanished in fear the Emperor would find out.
Normally, if you’re pregnant with royal blood, you flaunt it, not disappear.
The First Empress opposed Ash’s recognition as a prince primarily based on the second theory, but the matter was temporarily settled when Lorgan proved that he was infertile due to injuries sustained in battle.
Though even that led to arguments about when, exactly, he became infertile.
“Ugh.”
Disgusting. I clenched my jaw instinctively.
Rumors only get dirtier the longer they go on.
Even to me—someone completely unrelated—this all sounded horrid. I could only imagine what Ash must have felt.
In a way, I could understand why he ran away from it all.
But one thing was clear.
Estia must have known she was going to die and returned to the palace for Ash’s sake. And the Emperor truly loved her more than the Empress.
It stirred up a lot of thoughts.
To be honest, I still hadn’t really figured it out.
Why was I so desperate to see Ash?
Why was this obsession so overwhelming?
What exactly did I want to do when I saw him?
What was I hoping to accomplish?
Ash…
Why do you keep coming to mind?
Why do you keep bothering me like this?
Why are you making me do things that aren’t like me at all?
As I stared at the Emperor’s distant profile, I thought he looked just like Ash.
Well, technically, Ash looked like him.
“…!”
Was I staring too intently?
At some point, the Emperor turned and looked directly down at me.
Those golden eyes—bright as the sun—were just like Ash’s. While they watched me, it almost felt like I was seeing him again.
And that’s when I finally realized—
What I really wanted to do when I saw Ash again.
—
—Now, both competitors will bow to each other.
The pre-match bow was more a formality for psychological warfare than any real show of respect.
Standing across from me was a red-haired boy with a build so sturdy, it was hard to believe he was in the junior division.
He looked at least fifteen.
Was this guy in the wrong bracket? Shouldn’t he be in the youth division?
“My name is Rashamu Fedri. I look forward to this—though I don’t expect much from a cowardly little brat from a tiny country.”
Hmm? Arrogant, are we?
That red hair was said to be a Fedri family trait. Prominent noble houses often had distinctive features like hair or eye color.
They tended to marry within the family to preserve that bloodline, which honestly seemed a bit gross to me.
“My name is Geenie Crowell.”
“…That’s how you introduce yourself?”
“Not that I look forward to it, but let’s try our best—runt.”
“How dare you! I’m taller than you! And I’m a duke’s son! Show some respect!”
“Aren’t we equals as long as we’re in academy uniforms?”
“That’s…”
One of the few things I actually liked about this world was that famous phrase: Everyone is equal in the pursuit of knowledge.
While wearing an academy uniform, you had a bit more freedom from the usual hierarchy.
“And I’m a lady, so you should be speaking politely to me.”
“I’ve never met a lady like you before.”
“And I’ve never seen a junior division brat like you before.”
Ugh. Spit.
How was that kid supposed to be thirteen?
I know sword training bulks you up, but that physique was way too much.
Ash, who was supposedly the same age as Rashamu, looked about my age—ten.
Anyway, I already didn’t like Rashamu Fedri.
He kept picking a fight and giving me a look that pissed me off.
What’s his problem?
“You arrogant wench. So you’re the one who insulted me earlier!”
“Huh? When did I do that?”
“I heard your interview! It echoed across the whole arena!”
“Oh, right. That would’ve.”
So there was a reason.
“You actually boasted you’d throw me out like trash?!”
So proud. He kept saying ‘how dare you’ like it was going out of style.
Well, I guess when you’re a duke’s son, you’re not used to being disrespected.
“Sorry. I’ll lightly apologize for publicly mocking you.”
“Lightly?!”
“I didn’t say anything false. It’s the truth.”
“Don’t make me laugh!”
“Do you swim, by the way?”
Personally, I liked proud types.
Because they were so much fun to tease!
Rashamu’s face, redder than his hair, was quite a sight.
—The duel will now begin. Get ready.
“Undine.”
Before a duel, sword fighters draw their blades, brawlers put on their gauntlets, and mages ready their staves with memorized chants.
In that sense, me summoning Undine in advance as a Spirit Mage was perfectly normal.
Three… two…
The announcer’s countdown was something I’d heard too often by now—
—One!
“Un Brea—gh…”
Whoosh!
Before I could even finish casting my main spell, [Unbreathing], Rashamu charged straight at me.
