─The match is over!
The second and final semifinal match, between Theo Lyn Waldeurk and Lagmar, had come to a close.
The victor was Theo.
Though a burst of cheers would typically ensue, the audience remained silent.
They simply alternated their gaze between Theo, drenched in blood as though adorned in crimson armor, and Lagmar, fallen but writhing in an attempt to rise.
The quiet atmosphere was disrupted by the announcer.
─Ah, the last semifinal victor of the Elinia Academy Festival [Martial Arts Competition] is none other than Theo Lyn Waldeurk! The match was so fierce that the arena floor is almost entirely demolished!
As he spoke, the announcer sneakily glanced at Theo.
With only the final match remaining and ample time at hand, it was time for a victory interview.
“······.”
However, even to the announcer, Theo did not appear to be in any condition to participate in an interview.
He simply stood there, like a living corpse.
─Haah.
Catching Theo's blood-stained gaze, the announcer swallowed nervously.
He then chuckled awkwardly and announced.
─Ahahaha, let's give a round of applause for Theo and Lagmar for their stunning performance! Ah, I've just been informed that it will take about 10 minutes to repair the arena. Therefore, the final match will commence in 20 minutes!
Only then did the audience begin clapping.
“······.”
Theo briefly glanced at Amy, seated in the crowd, then slowly turned his back and exited the arena.
I returned to the athlete's waiting room and immediately lay down on the bench.
Simultaneously, all sensations in my body stopped.
It was only thanks to the [Twisted Noble's Dignity] that I managed to walk back to the waiting room.
“Phew.”
Blood and sweat flowed down my face, continuously soaking my clothes, but there was no time to attend to that.
Ignoring it made [Twisted Noble's Dignity] torment me with its pricking sensation.
But I couldn't muster the strength to even twitch a finger.
“Winning the... final seems... unlikely.”
I mumbled these words, but they barely registered in my ears.
My hearing seemed to have almost stopped functioning.
Perhaps that was to be expected.
During the latter half of my match with Lagmar, the only words I could discern from the announcer were “end” and “10 seconds.”
Just those two words.
“But, it's... so disappointing.”
I stuttered with my almost non-functional mouth.
······I can still move more.
“······Yes. Yes, I... must.”
However, my body barely moved despite my will.
When I exerted strength in my body, only my fingers twitched slightly.
“Ugh, ack.”
It was excruciating, even just moving my fingers.
It was impractical to call for Taylor.
With less than 20 minutes left for the final match, it would take him more than 20 minutes to arrive.
······I should use my last ounce of strength to open the imitation panacea.
Though the thought stuck, I resisted since it didn't feel right.
When will I be able to get another imitation panacea?
It’s uncertain if I’ll ever obtain one again.
It's a precious item that even Maximin the 'Demon Hunter' might not be able to secure.
It should be reserved for an unforeseen emergency.
The ring, belonging to the Chalon family, is widely known for its effects.
More famous than its stamina recovery is the effect of 'binding to the first wearer upon equipping'.
Amy surely knew this.
“······Alright. Help me get up.”
“Understood.”
“······Ugh.”
As soon as Amy's hands touched me, intense pain surged through my body.
Her eyes widened in shock, then narrowed.
“······Young master. Perhaps it would be best to forfeit the final match.”
“······.”
“Everyone already knows you've done as much as you could. Second place isn't a bad result.”
“······I have to go.”
Second place isn't bad.
That's a valid point.
And it's true.
In this [Martial Arts Competition] with many talented participants, a student from the hero department deemed a failure getting second place is already a great achievement.
But beyond winning or losing, forfeiting itself doesn't sit well with me, neither for my appearance nor for my mentality.
Yes, my mentality.
In games, the concept of 'mental victory' is very important.
I still have more than three years left before graduating from the academy.
With all sorts of hardships ahead, if I forfeit now just because I’m not in good physical shape, can my already unstable mentality endure?
Knowing well before my possession that it takes only three months for a sane person to become a wreck, can I confidently say I am not weak?
Those people were much healthier than me, both physically and mentally.
······I have to go.
Even to prove to my body and brain that 'I won’t succumb to such delusions.'
“Just support me to the back of the arena.”
“······Understood, young master.”
Reluctantly, Amy nodded and supported me.
Though still in severe pain, I refrained from making any more pained sounds.
The final match of the Martial Arts Competition is about to begin.
The announcer splendidly introduced Theo and Irene.
The crowd cheered, but it was not as enthusiastic as the competition officials had anticipated.
That was to be expected, as Theo's condition on the stage was visibly poor.
The audience murmured among themselves.
“Theo... it's a miracle he's even standing. Don't you think?”
“Exactly. Did you see him leaving the last match? His legs were trembling with every step.”
“Irene's victory is a sure thing. But her opponent is her frail fiancé, and in the finals, no less! This is juicy.”
“What’s juicy about it?”
“Oh, come on, get with the times. You’re so out of touch.”
“Anyone want to bet on the outcome?”
“What's the stake?”
“Dinner for the rest of the semester. I'm betting on Irene's victory.”
“You're crazy. Why not just ask for money?”
“Hand over the cash.”
“No way.”
“······.”
Claire, with her ears perked up, was watching the arena from above.
She had just arrived at the arena to investigate Theo on the orders of the Saintess.