Chapter 15: Tsk, A Hair’s Breadth
“Hanna! Eliminated!”
The announcer’s voice signaled the end of the match.
Rita sheathed her sword confidently, gave a chest salute to the examiners on the platform, and strode out of the arena, ignoring the grumbling of the eliminated candidates.
What was that?
A few laps of fake running, then kicking all four out in under ten seconds—with one even helping her?
Even if the exam had unspoken shady dealings, wasn’t this too blatant?
“Hmph.” Dorothy snorted, scribbling on her scorecard. “Playing tricks.”
“Not necessarily,” Angus countered. “Five people chased each other for three full laps, and Rita, the target, didn’t even break a sweat. Few candidates could manage that.”
As a city lord who’d earned his place through military merit, Angus knew such stamina wasn’t easy, though not impossible.
“Hm.” Cecilia nodded, unfazed. “I have my judgment.”
As Rita left the arena, Valphis rushed over, thumbs up.
“Impressive, sister! You won! Though your points might be low.”
“No big deal.” Rita didn’t mind Valphis but stayed wary. “What, just here to congratulate me?”
“Nah, it’s my turn.” Valphis dropped her hand and strode toward the arena.
“Where’s your sword?” Rita called, noticing Valphis was empty-handed.
Valphis turned back. “Sister, you didn’t use yours to take them down either.”
Rita found an empty spot to sit, watching the five candidates for the next round gather and spread out.
“Sixth match, begin!”
At the announcer’s command, four candidates paired off, clashing instantly, while Valphis sneaked to the edge and crouched.
Why was I chased by four people, but no one’s after her?
Rita grumbled inwardly, keeping her eyes on the action.
One pair resolved quickly. The winner glanced at the trembling Valphis, then charged to aid the losing side in the other duel. Together, they faced the remaining candidate.
But that candidate’s swordsmanship was exceptional, fending off both and eliminating them in a flurry of steel.
Spotting Valphis, he closed in with a few strides.
Rita thought Valphis was conserving strength for a full-force fight, but instead, she yelped and leaped out of the arena.
“Don’t swing! I surrender! Surrender!”
She acted like a king before the match, but she’s plastic!
Right, a real king wouldn’t need to talk teamwork with her.
It looked like a farce, but the winner fought legitimately, and Rita’s round was so absurd that it sparked little discussion.
Valphis plopped down beside Rita, pouting. “Tsk, a hair’s breadth.”
You didn’t even fight before surrendering!
Later Rounds
The following matches were more normal, mostly unremarkable but with some standouts, proving Valphis’s words true.
Some genuinely skilled candidates were here. Thinking the exam was pure theater was naive of Rita.
A spear-wielding girl ended a five-person fight swiftly. A plain-clad, muscular man fought to the end with just his fists. A dual-wielding man invited opponents to duel him one-by-one, securing victory.
The standout was a gray-haired swordswoman. The moment she drew her blade, a powerful gust of wind and sand engulfed the arena. When the dust settled, she stood alone.
“Oh, that gray-hair’s Promi. Didn’t expect her in Solus City. You might not know her, but her sister’s the famous Silver Fang Bronny, top-tier among crested Holy Knights,” Valphis chattered, still keen on teaming up despite Rita’s poor showing.
Rita noticed even the connected candidates had prepared for the exam. Truly clueless idiots were rare.
“Rare” meaning there were exceptions—like herself in others’ eyes, or Valphis, who surrendered after a brief act.
The exam wrapped up at sunset. With Valphis’s commentary, Rita assessed the competition and her situation in one phrase:
Tch, the road’s long and tough.
Parting with Valphis, Rita hurried back to her room in the city lord’s mansion.
With Cecilia’s assassination attempt, rumors of a succubus in Solus City, and last night’s magical beast encounter, Rita wasn’t risking a hunt. Escape was out of the question too—better to stay put.
Forget hunting or escaping—she wasn’t even leaving her room tonight.
She still wondered if Cecilia’s promise of a Holy Knight title for serving her was genuine.
Soon, a knock came at her door.
“Lady Rita,” a maid’s voice called.
“Leave dinner at the door. I’ll grab it later.”
“No, Her Highness summons you.”
Cecilia?
“I’m coming.”
Rita rolled off the bed, tidied her clothes and hair, and followed the maid.
Was her performance today too poor? Was Cecilia going to lecture her?
With questions swirling, the maid led her to the same treasure-filled meeting room from noon.
Rita knocked, and Cecilia’s voice answered promptly.
“Come in.”
Pushing the door open, Rita’s heart sank.
The small room was packed with over a dozen people, most in groups of two or three, faces grim as if soaked in water. Only Cecilia, seated in the center, looked composed.
Rita didn’t recognize most, but the younger ones… her memory wasn’t that bad.
They were the opponents she’d kicked out of the arena today.