Chapter 1
Fun Times at the Goddess’s Trial!
How disagreeable, Alexia silently mutters to herself.
She’s sitting in one of the seats for the special guests, waiting for the opening ceremony of the Goddess’s Trial to begin. The seats in question are occupied by Natsume, Alexia, and Rose. There are a number of other guests behind them, but they’re the main attractions. It’s painfully obvious they’re being used to draw an audience as de facto booth babes, but she can overlook that.
There are two things Alexia finds disagreeable.
The first is Nelson. The acting archbishop is busy pompously greeting everyone in the center of the grounds. When she talked with him earlier about the archbishop’s murder the day before, he obstinately refused to let her look into the incident.
It all started when Nelson spouted some nonsense about the inspection being called off because the subject was dead. Alexia had replied that made the investigation all the more necessary, dumbass, though she’d obviously used more diplomatic language. Nelson insisted she needed to get her request reapproved if she wanted to conduct an inspection.
Even if she hurried, it would take her three days to get back to the capital, at least a week to get approval, and another three days to return to Lindwurm. Who knows how long it would take Nelson to accept her permit once she actually brought it to him? Depending on his mood, he could easily end up making her wait an additional week. It went without saying that after all that time passed, crucial evidence could be lost forever.
That said, Alexia knew she was acting as a representative of her country, so she couldn’t exactly force his hand. Holy Teachings wasn’t just practiced in the kingdom of Midgar but in all the nearby nations, too. If she tried to push the issue, she was liable to receive backlash from their neighbors, not to mention lose the support of the populace. Religion made for a handy ally, but as a foe, it was an absolute nuisance.
She glares at Acting Archbishop Nelson as he jovially continues giving his address. At least grieve a little, baldy, she silently mutters to herself. The archbishop’s death hasn’t been reported to the public, but still. Oh, and by the way, Nelson is bald.
Alexia sighs, then glances at the woman in her periphery, Natsume or whatever, sitting to her left.
Natsume is the other thing that irks Alexia.
Natsume sits politely beside her, responding to the crowd’s cheers with a broad smile. Her elegant silver hair frames her blue feline eyes and accompanying mole, and her features only serve to enhance her likability.
Thanks to her pearly smile and queenly wave, her lovely appearance, and her graceful conduct, she’s wildly popular.
As Alexia looks at her, she becomes more and more certain there’s something fishy about her.
Maybe Natsume is the kind of genius author who comes around once in a millennium and maybe she isn’t, but the fact of the matter is that Alexia hadn’t so much as heard of her prior to that day. True, Alexia doesn’t have a shred of interest in literature, but as a princess, she does put some effort into knowing who’s who. In other words, Natsume must have only just risen to prominence recently.
For a rookie to have such presence, to conduct herself so well, and to be so popular? That is fishy.
She isn’t jealous! If anything, it’s the kind of hate that arises from being cut from the same cloth.
Alexia knows how to conduct herself flawlessly in front of the public. She lives her life repressing her true self and playing the part of a perfect princess. Most people in positions of power are playing a role in some capacity, but it’s hard to come by someone willing to sacrifice themselves to perform the part to perfection. It’s a safe bet to say that the more an actor sacrifices to pull off the ultimate performance, the darker their underside.
“Thank you all,” Natsume calls out to the crowd. Alexia clicks her tongue.
She finds that soft, ingratiating voice of Natsume’s grating. Her exposed chest is too calculated as she stoops over to show off her cleavage… Well, aren’t you just the cutest?
As she internally bad-mouths Natsume, Alexia waves at the gathered masses with an unchanging smile.
However, the crowd clearly reacted to Natsume better. For a moment, Alexia’s cheek twitches, and she crosses her arms. As she uses them to push up her breasts, she hunches over. Just a little.
The crowd’s cheers grow ever so slightly louder.
Emphasis on ever so slightly.
W-well, my neckline isn’t very low, so it’s hardly my fault, Alexia silently reassures herself as she returns to her seat.
She casts a fleeting glance to her right, where Rose is smiling happily. She’s been like that all morning.
Then, just in case, the princess glances to her left.
In that moment, she sees something: the corners of Natsume’s lips curled up in a mocking smirk.
Something inside Alexia snaps.
How disagreeable, Beta silently mutters to herself as she plays the role of Natsume the novelist.
There is just one thing she finds annoying, and it’s sitting to her right: Alexia Midgar. She’s the vermin who used her position as a princess and a friend to get close to Beta’s beloved master.
Everything is fishy about that woman, behaving like a model princess by cajoling the crowd with her sickeningly soft, ingratiating voice and waving at them with that questionable smile. When it comes to women who pretend to be perfect as a matter of habit, it’s generally a safe bet they have a dark underside. There isn’t a doubt in Beta’s mind that her master would never fall for such a wench, but even a one-in-a-million chance is still a chance.
And even if that didn’t end up being a problem, the woman was still a nuisance, one whose presence was most unwelcome in the pages of Beta’s The Chronicles of Master Shadow.
When Beta heard Shadow saved that woman during The Case of the Kidnapped Princess, her blood boiled. It filled her with rage that she hadn’t been the one who’d…er, wait, uh…at the fact that girl had caused so much trouble for her master. Right. It wasn’t jealousy, obviously!
In order to contain her fury, Beta rewrote that section, replacing the role of the victim saved by Shadow with an adorable silver-haired, blue-eyed elf with a beauty mark. She stayed up late at night reading and rereading that section over and over.
But now, the harlot was threatening to barge in on The Chronicles of Master Shadow again. Beta was more powerful, more beautiful, and more devoted to her master, so what did that woman think she was doing butting in? I-it was ridiculous!
As Beta internally spews vitriol at that vulgar princess, she responds to the crowd’s cheers on autopilot.
When she snatches a glance to the side, she sees, of all things, that tawdry princess trying to push up her shoddy chest to curry favor with the masses.
How sickening.
And besides, those things don’t come close to hers in terms of volume. They’re totally average.
Thoroughly pleased at herself for emerging victorious yet again, Beta glances down at her voluminous cleavage and lets out a little snort.
Oops. Did Alexia hear that?
Beta turns away to play dumb, which is exactly when a sharp pain shoots through her right foot.
“Ah…?!” She stifles her yelp and looks down to discover Alexia’s heel being driven into her foot.
As she strains to keep herself from snapping, Beta calmly addresses her.
“Excuse me, Princess Alexia, but would you please move your foot?”
Alexia stares fixedly at Beta as she removes her heel, feigning that she only just realized what she was doing. Then, without so much as an apology, she even has the nerve to let out a little laugh.
You absolute piece of shiiiit!! Beta is about to scream out loud, but between her devotion to her master and her loyalty to the Shadow Garden, she manages to rein herself in.
Only barely.
A drop of blood trickles from Beta’s lip.
Rose just keeps on happily smiling.
I gaze out vacantly over the Goddess’s Trial from the stands.
It’s the middle of the day, so things have only just gotten started. They’re still giving speeches, introducing the guests, and marching in the parade. The main event, the actual Trial, isn’t slated to start until after sundown.
Currently, I’m just in the bleachers as another face in the crowd. I let out a sigh, looking at the three girls all getting along in the guest box.
I wanna do something.
Specifically, something shadowbrokery. Resigning myself to the role of a normal spectator during an awesome event is killing me.
Like, I should be partaking in that standard trope where I participate in the Trial myself while keeping my identity hidden or something.
You know, the bit where I make some huge display of my powers, and everyone goes, Who is that guy?!
If this were a tournament, that would be sweet. Unfortunately, though, everyone only gets one round here, and after some research, I found out it’d be pretty hard to nab a slot while keeping my identity under wraps. I consider barging in by force, but I figure I’d rather save that for something more important.
As I wrestle with one nonstarter of an idea after another, the event gradually proceeds.
Sometimes that’s just how it goes. I couldn’t think of a decent plan yesterday, and it’s not like I was expecting some convenient stroke of genius to strike me on the spot. And even though it sorta feels like I’m giving up, I’ll still be able to enjoy myself in the normie way. This world is short on big events, so I find myself able to have a surprisingly good time. I even manage to gamble my way into a little pocket money.
Eventually, the sun makes its way down, and the main attraction finally starts. A brilliant light fills the grounds, and ancient letters rise up from the ground in the arena.
Then the letters release a dome of white light. The crowd goes wild.
Once the challenger goes into the dome, the Sanctuary picks out an appropriate opponent, and the battle starts. That’s it. No one in the wings is able to interfere until one side or the other is unable to continue. Apparently, people have even died.
The whole bit about being forced to fight until one party literally can’t anymore makes me reevaluate the merits of playing a background character through this event. There is a real risk that my true strength could be discovered if I enter.
Meanwhile, the first challenger steps into the dome after the introductions. He’s some sort of tough guy from the Knight Order.
But the dome offers no response.
The man curses as he leaves the arena.
You can’t blame the guy: The entrance fee is one hundred thousand zeni, after all. And apparently, there are over 150 participants this year.
It makes sense in a way. Passing the Goddess’s Trial is supposedly a great honor. You get a commemorative medal, and I hear everyone falls all over themselves going, You beat the Goddess’s Trial? Wow! Here’s a job! to the victor.
As I watch the challengers go up one by one, I find myself wondering just how long it’s gonna be until Alpha’s turn.
The first ancient warrior who shows up to fight is for lucky challenger number fourteen.
Annerose is a traveler from Velgalta, a country that prizes swordplay, and when she enters the dome, the ancient script reacts and begins glowing. The light coalesces into a humanoid shape—a translucent warrior. According to the commentators, he’s Borg, a warrior from ancient times.
The two of them have a fairly ordinary battle, and Annerose secures a fairly ordinary victory. I was pretty pumped up to see what the ancient warriors could do, so I’m bummed at how mundane the fight turns out. Fingers crossed that the next ones will be stronger.
As the event goes on, it dawns on me that I had it wrong. Annerose herself is strong. Eight warriors have been summoned at this point, but she’s the only challenger who’s won so far. When I think about it like that, I realize Borg must’ve been a tough nut, too.
The night wears on, and the pool of remaining challengers is reduced to a mere few.
As I feel the event starting to wind down to its conclusion, I hear the name of the next contestant get called out.
“Our next challenger is from the Midgar Academy for Dark Knights: Cid Kagenou!”
Cid Kagenou? Who’s that? Wait… That’s me!
I’m definitely the only Cid Kagenou who goes to the Midgar Academy for Dark Knights, but…I definitely don’t remember signing up.
“Let’s give our brave contender a warm welcome!”
No! Stop! Pause!
A wave of applause washes over me. Someone even whistles, and excited cheers fill the stadium.
I’m not liking the vibe here. My cheek twitches as I rack my brain.
Given the situation, I have three options.
Option one: I can give up and go fight. If nothing happens, my position as a nobody is safe, but if some superpowerful warrior appears, I’m at risk of having my powers discovered.
Option two: I can make a run for it. I’m just some rando from the Academy for Dark Knights, after all. Nobody knows what I look like, so it would be a breeze. Unfortunately, I’d piss off the Church. If they complain to my school, I might even get expelled.
Option three: I can cause a shitstorm. Looks like this is my only choice.
I erase my presence, dashing at top speed to find a hiding place. Once I’ve made sure I’m alone, I transform into my Shadow guise and leap out into the air.
I’m a fervent believer in the philosophy that there’s no problem you can’t get rid of with an explosion.
And on that note…
Commence Operation: A Mysterious Badass Causes a Shitstorm!
As I land atop the domed platform, my long coat flutters behind me.
“My name is Shadow. I lurk in the darkness and hunt down shadows…”
The crowd stirs.
“Ancient memories slumber within the Sanctuary…”
The ancient script reacts and begins forming a humanoid shape.
“And tonight, we shall release them…”
I draw my ebony katana and slice through the night sky.
Over in the guest seats, Beta’s mouth is open impressively wide.
“Shadow!!”
“Shadow?!”
“Mas—?!”
Realizing she’s about to call him Master Shadow, Beta frantically stops herself mid-sentence.
Fortunately for her, everyone else in the guest box has their eyes glued to Shadow, so nobody hears her. Alexia, Rose, and even Acting Archbishop Nelson are visibly shaken at the appearance of a sudden intruder.
As she closes her gaping mouth, Beta begins thinking. This wasn’t part of the plan.
At the same time, though, she realizes something. She knows her beloved master would never take such measures without good cause. There must be some key reason for his actions, and it’s her job as his backup to figure out what it is.
A moment later, Beta is calm and collected again.
What should she do?
What’s the best course?
“I see. So that’s Shadow,” murmurs Nelson. “I don’t know what he’s trying to do, but the Church’s paladins are stationed all around the arena. You’ve overestimated yourself, fool. We won’t let you escape.”
Nelson gives the order for the paladins to assemble.
These are knights chosen from baptism to protect the Church. Normal knights can’t even begin to compare to their strength. Back when she was a kid, Beta found herself struggling to take one down in the process of saving a “Compatible.” Nowadays, of course, she would never let something so unseemly happen.
“Why is Shadow here…?” mutters Alexia.
“Is he okay? I hope he doesn’t get needlessly caught up in all this…,” says Rose. Keeping one eye on Shadow, she restlessly surveys the area.
Suddenly, the arena is flooded in white.
The ancient letters flash, then coalesce into the shape of a warrior.
Beta puts together the minute description listed in the ancient letters and reads it aloud.
“Aurora the Calamity Witch…”
“Aurora? Impossible…”
Beta’s and Nelson’s voices overlap.
When the light dies down, a woman stands in its place. Her hair is long and black, and her eyes are a vivid shade of violet. She wears a thin black robe, and her dark-purple dress and pale skin are almost translucent. She has an artistic beauty to her, as though she were a sculpture come to life.
“Aurora? Who’s that?” Alexia asks Nelson, deliberately ignoring Beta.
That’s why I think of it as a conversation.
With stronger communication skills, you can anticipate further ahead, allowing you to respond appropriately, which they can guess before you can follow through and react, and so on and so forth, in an endless exchange.
On the other hand, if your conversational skills are lacking, or if there’s too big a difference between you and the other guy, you won’t be able to get a dialogue started in the first place.
One side, or sometimes even both, will act on impulse until the fight ends.
That’s no conversation. It’s not even a process. Just a result. In my opinion, if you aren’t planning on having a discussion, you might as well just go ahead and decide your fight with a good old game of rock-paper-scissors. Delta, I’m talking to you here. Her rules let rock beat the living shit out of paper and scissors.
That said, I’m hardly in any position to talk. It’s been forever since I’ve had anything even resembling a conversation.
Unlike Delta, though, I do at least go in trying to communicate… It just always ends with me playing rock and smashing in their face.
That’s why this chick is getting me more excited than I’ve been in a while. She’s watching me. The tip of my sword, my gaze, my footwork… While she pretends to smile nonchalantly, she’s watching every meaningful move I make.
I think I’ll call her Violet. My dear, beloved Violet.
For the first few moments, our conversation consists of merely staring at each other.
Bit by bit, we’re learning. She’s the type who likes to keep her distance, and I’m fundamentally the kind of guy who likes to match my opponent’s rhythm. I’m definitely not the type who likes smashing people with my rock.
And because of that, I begin our conversation by ceding the initiative.
After you, I imply.
The very next moment, I yank back my front leg.
As I do, something like a red spear explodes from the ground where my foot was.
I retreat half a step. Gotta say I wasn’t expecting her first move to come from below me.
The red spear splits into two, rushing at me from both sides.
The first step is to observe.
I want to judge its speed, mobility, and destructive capacity.
For these reasons, I dodge the spear on my left, then block the one on my right with my katana. The impact has weight to it. It’s definitely enough to kill me.
The dodged spear proceeds to split again. There are probably a thousand red wires now, and they all look sharp as needles.
Then, they converge on my position.
I gather magic in my blade and sweep the lot of them away, obliterating the red spear completely.
“A swarm of mosquitoes can never take down a lion,” I tell her.
Violet beams with grace. We go back to staring at each other for a bit.
With stronger communication skills, it takes less time to gauge the other party, including their condition for the most part.
I know how this battle will end. Violet probably does, too.
Suddenly, the silence is broken when a series of spears as thick as logs burst out of the ground.
There are nine of them in total.
I’m able to dodge the wide ones, but they can change their shape like tentacles and keep coming—trying to stab at me with spears, wrap around me with string, chomp at me like jaws.
That’s the way she likes to fight: a lethal, one-sided game with those shape-shifting tentacles.
I continue observing. As I watch how the feelers operate, I refine my movements.
By doing so, I’m able to remove any unnecessary motion when I dodge. Full steps turn to half steps. Two moves turn to one.
Even if I avoid them forever, I can’t win, but evasion is a necessary first step to counterattacking.
The less I have to move to dodge, the faster my subsequent counterattack can come.
Eventually, my evasion and my counterattack will coincide.
With a single step, I bring myself directly in front of Violet.
At some point, a scythe appears in her hands. It cleaves toward me.
As I repel the blow with my katana, I kick her in the leg.
A slime sword extends from the tip of my foot and impales her. As of late, I’ve mostly been using it as a prop for when I want to get theatrical, but it’s invaluable against strong enemies as a way to throw them off-balance.
For a beat, she stops moving, and a moment is all I need.
Violet smiles, accepting the outcome.
“I wanted to fight you at your full strength.”
As fresh blood sprays through the air, I whisper in a low voice only Violet can hear.
“Like I said, Shadow doesn’t have a leg to stand on,” says Nelson proudly. Alexia ignores him.
Since the beginning of the battle, Aurora has been pushing Shadow back nonstop. Alexia gazes in astonishment at the terrifying speed of the red tendrils.
Those things are unlike any weapon she’s ever seen. They change their form so freely, it’s like they’re an extension of Aurora’s own body. She could probably even extend them out even farther and run an entire group through at once.
Anyone insisting on fighting her with a sword would be doomed from the get-go.
So this is the power of ancient battle techniques. Alexia is forced to admit she would be no match for Aurora.
“He’s more persistent than I expected, but the difference in skill is clear.”
You’re wrong. Alexia silently rejects Nelson’s observation.
Although it may look like Shadow is being pushed back by Aurora’s onslaught, he hasn’t actually tried to attack yet. He’s just observing, taking stock of this unfamiliar attack.
Aurora is strong, make no mistake. She’s powerful enough to give Shadow a decent fight, after all.
But those red spears haven’t so much as touched him yet.
“A swarm of mosquitoes can never take down a lion.”
As Shadow speaks, he blasts away over a thousand slender spikes in a single blow.
The red spears regroup into thick poles and rush at Shadow from all directions.
They hum through the air as they rain down on him with enough force to kill a lion, splitting apart and gnashing at him like fangs.
But they just can’t connect.
Much to the contrary—with each pass, Shadow’s evasions get smoother.
Each time it seems they can’t possibly get any more efficient, they do.
Each moment, Alexia thinks the battle has reached its apex, only for it to be overwritten with an even loftier summit the next.
“Amazing…”
“As always…”
Alexia and Natsume whisper in unison.
The truly strong are able to drive their opponents into a deadlock with defense alone. Alexia’s instructor taught her that once.
This fight is a prime example.
“What are you doing, you stupid witch? Finish him off already!” Nelson screams in a tone tinged with irritation.
But the moment has passed.
Aurora is no longer capable of stopping Shadow.
The fight was decided in the blink of an eye.
Alexia was only able to make out a fraction of the exchange.
Shadow stepped in, Aurora swung her scythe, and before Alexia knew it, there was blood everywhere.
And the one who’d gone down…was Aurora.
The result was quick and unsatisfying. It was like watching a lion snap a lamb’s neck.
Nobody could tell what Shadow had done or what happened in that final exchange.
That was why it was so disappointing.
The stadium is dead silent, as if that fierce fight never happened.
“Did she…just lose? That’s impossible! She was on the attack!” yelps Nelson.
He probably thought Aurora was the favorite up until the very last moment.
When the tables turn in the space of a single instant, it takes a minute for people to process the situation. Nelson isn’t alone in that. Most of the spectators still aren’t sure they haven’t mistaken the defeated for the victor.
“What just happened? There’s no way Aurora could lose! She’s…!”
Shadow’s ebony long coat flutters behind him as he leaps into the night sky.
“S-stop there! After him! Don’t let him get away!” cries Nelson after returning to his senses.
The confused paladins rouse themselves into motion and scramble after Shadow.
Alexia suddenly realizes she’s been holding her breath. As she exhales, she tries to memorize Shadow’s sword work so as not to forget it.
“His tricks are as astounding as always…” Rose’s voice escapes her like a sigh.
Just as Alexia is about to concur, a blinding light pours into the arena.
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