Once lunch ended, the matches to determine the Top 8 began. The tournament champion would be decided as early as tomorrow. From this point onward, every match would take place in the central arena—“Room C”—drawing the full attention of every spectator.
For Raze to face Ruben, who was on the opposite bracket, she absolutely had to make it to the finals.
She’d just have to endure being the center of everyone’s—students, parents, all ages—gaze a little while longer.
“Granoli. I know it’s weird to say this myself, but… I’m pretty stubborn.”
“…? Yes.”
Facing Ian in the arena, Raze frowned slightly at his words. Given this was practically an otome game scenario, she had a vague idea that the romanceable characters would advance far—but facing them in person, she could clearly feel they were cut from a different cloth than ordinary students.
“Let’s have a good match!”
“Yes.”
They exchanged pre-match greetings and took their stances.
Ian’s friendly smile from moments ago vanished—as if a switch had flipped—and his eyes hardened with focus. Sensing the sharp aura radiating from him, spear in hand, Raze’s lips curled into a faint smile.
When all the referees raised their hands to signal readiness, the starting gong finally rang—
In that decisive instant—
Raze charged forward at high speed, launching her technique at Ian. From up close, she thought she heard him utter a faint “ma—” Perhaps to soften the impact, Ian had immediately leaned his body backward at the start—but to Raze, that was no obstacle at all.
“…………”
Having heard rumors of some secret strategy, Raze frowned slightly as Ian collapsed just like all the others before him. Her expression betrayed a hint of disappointment—like her expectations had been let down.
“There—”
The referee, seeing Ian hit the ground, was about to declare the match over.
—but.
“—I’m not done yet!!”
Lying flat on his back, Ian declared firmly. With a spinning kick, he forcefully broke free from Raze’s hold and swiftly created distance.
“Wow~! You’re seriously fast! Even knowing you’d come, I couldn’t see you at all!”
(…So that’s his “strategy”…)
Raze, thoroughly caught off guard, quickly reestablished her distance.
Apparently, that “ma” sound she’d heard earlier wasn’t her imagination—it was the “ma” from “mada yaremasu” (“I can still go”).
She was surprised he’d been planning something like this right from the start.
“So you just let my technique hit you… and that’s what you meant by ‘stubborn,’ huh? …Technically, the match only ends when the referee stops it or someone says ‘I yield’…”
There was no secret strategy at all.
Yet, glancing sideways at the referee—who wore an expression as if nothing had happened—she saw the unspoken word: “Continue.”
“I’m not beaten yet! After all, I’m completely unharmed.”
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Well, in that sense, his plan had succeeded—he got exactly what he wanted. Guess that’s what you’d expect from a high-energy, brute-force type. …That was meant as a compliment, by the way.
Swinging his spear toward Raze as if to say “Now it’s my turn!”, Ian launched his attack. She dodged with light, agile movements—but his assault showed no sign of stopping.
[Incredible!! Ian Masse Droua is launching a furious, relentless assault on Raze Granoli—the one-hit KO specialist!]
[That was a bold move! Most competitors, once felled by her, accept the referee’s judgment—but he interrupted it! Even if you thought of it, actually doing it takes real guts. Let’s give him a round of applause for that courage!]
[Indeed! From him, we feel a strong will—‘I’ll keep fighting as long as my body moves!’ Now, how will Raze Granoli respond to this unexpected counterattack? This is getting exciting!]
Listening to the commentary, Raze continued evading Ian’s attacks.
(This guy won’t admit defeat unless I render him truly combat-incapacitated.)
Whoosh—the sound of wind slicing past her abdomen.
This time, Raze’s attack wasn’t recognized by the referees because Ian had technically “escaped” her technique.
She understood that this kind of victory—forcing a loss without inflicting a single injury—could lead to situations like this. But she never actually expected someone to pull it off.
To some, his actions might seem like foolish stubbornness—refusing to accept defeat.
If a fighter remained obstinately unwilling to yield, the referee could end the match—but doing so would be seen as shameful.
That’s why, as the commentators said, Ian’s move took real courage—and Raze, surprised, had missed the timing for her second strike.
(Is he really not planning to activate magic?)
Dodging Ian’s spear techniques—good enough to earn him top rank in his year during the winter tournament—with only physical enhancement was starting to get tough.
Of course, avoiding his thrusts wasn’t hard—if she just teleported behind him, it’d be over instantly.
But throughout this tournament, Raze hadn’t used any magic that skipped through space—no teleportation from Point A to B. She’d only moved like a point P traveling along a line at a steady speed. She preferred to avoid dimension-hopping magic.
(Using spatial teleportation is just too versatile… I’d rather not rely on it.)
Having entered the match weaponless, she pondered what to do.
[Droua’s attacks won’t stop! Could it be that even Granoli’s famed movement magic can’t keep up!?]
[Movement magic is common, but depending on where you teleport, you might jump straight into danger. Constant caution is required.]
Ian, fully aware of this, was deliberately varying his attacks to exploit that risk.
She had to be careful—because even if she felt fine, the referee might deem it dangerous and end the match. Right now, being unarmed probably put her at a disadvantage in their eyes.
(…Should I borrow a weapon?)
It might be clearer if she held a weapon—the symbol of martial strength.
While Ian’s relentless assault continued, Raze suddenly lunged forward and seized it.
“I’ll borrow this for a moment.”
“Wha!?”
Ian gasped in shock as she easily closed the distance into what should’ve been his personal space.
What she grabbed, of course, was his short spear.
Though the tip was blunted for tournament use, a solid hit could still break bones—but she reached for it without hesitation.
Instinctively, Ian tried to yank it upward—but Raze wouldn’t allow it.
Tucking the spear under her left arm, she gripped it tightly with both hands—her strength amplified by body-enhancement magic—and skillfully twisted her whole body to wrench the spear cleanly from his grasp.
Still in close range, she pivoted left, using her back to shove Ian off-balance, then stepped her left foot forward into a half-turned stance. To keep the spear tip from accidentally striking him, she grabbed his left shoulder with her left hand and spun the spear once in her right before raising it high overhead.
“Enough!!”
The spear’s tip was unmistakably aimed at a vital point—and the referee immediately called the match.
In her final pose, Raze looked as if she’d adapted a dramatic kabuki dramatic stance.
Only after her victory was confirmed did she release Ian and lower the spear.
“Here you go.”
When Ian took back his spear from her outstretched hand, he let out a sigh.
“You really are strong, Granoli. Not a single hit landed… I thought fighting you weaponless would give me an advantage, but I guess I was naive.”
Though his words carried a hint of frustration, he also looked oddly relieved—as if he’d finally gotten the chance to properly face her in battle.
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