Even though neither of us had taken a single step since the match began, I could feel fatigue steadily building inside me.
(This is bad... No matter how I attack, I only see visions of losing...)
Some time had passed since the fight started, but I was still struggling to find an opening.
Fuka remained calm and composed, calmly adjusting her stance to counter every move I was about to make.
If this continued, I would be the one to tire out first...
Still, it wasn't completely fruitless.
Through all the back-and-forth mind games so far, I had managed to learn a fair amount about Fuka's [Future Sight].
First, how far ahead she could see—probably only a few seconds. Ten seconds at most, but likely no more.
Second, the futures Fuka saw were not set in stone.
If she were seeing an absolutely fixed future, she wouldn't need to actively adjust her posture to deal with my moves.
Every time I changed my intended action, Fuka changed her response accordingly.
If this were a bluff, I'd be helpless—but I had no choice but to believe it.
Besides, if my thinking was wrong, I had no chance of winning anyway.
It took quite a while, but I had gathered the information I wanted.
(Guess this is the only way...)
My greatest strengths are adaptability and my ability to respond to situations.
In those two areas, I confidently believe I lose to almost no one.
Even against the strongest swordswoman, Fuka.
Magic is off-limits.
All the mental capacity I normally dedicate to magic—pour it entirely into this one attack.
No matter how far into the future she can see, Fuka is still human.
She has limits!
I steeled myself and closed the distance toward Fuka.
Naturally, Fuka—who could see the future—tried to respond with the optimal counter to my approach.
The instant I saw the sign of her reaction—I changed my action.
(Feints are meaningless. Commit to every move for real!)
In the ten-meter approach, I changed my action dozens, hundreds of times.
I moved so fast that even my own thoughts were overtaken—acting on pure spinal reflex.
When I finally entered sword range and swung—changing my action with every motion—
"Haa... haa... haa..."
My sword stopped just before Fuka's throat.
If I hadn't halted it, the blade would definitely have reached her.
Fuka's eyes were wide open—she couldn't move.
Just as I predicted, seeing countless futures in an instant had overwhelmed her processing ability, leaving her nearly frozen in thought.
"...I never imagined this approach. I couldn't move."
Fuka murmured in her usual calm tone.
But her expression clearly showed disbelief.
"Haa... haa... Glad I caught you off guard. Does this count as my win?"
My head felt heavy—like when I overuse magic—because I had pushed my brain to its limit.
Any more mental strain would definitely cause a headache.
"Yeah. In a real fight to the death, I would have died. —My loss."
"Eh—match over...!? Winner—Orun!"
Fuka's surrender declaration was announced to the crowd by the host.
Naturally, many spectators were unsatisfied with both the process and the result—louder complaints than before erupted.
I understand how they feel, but we're taking this seriously—yet they complain however they like...
If we fought fair and square and I had no chance, what else could I do?
The only reason I won this time was because of the tournament's fixed rules.
This kind of fighting would be impossible outside the martial arts tournament.
Redirecting all the mental capacity I normally use for magic solely toward reaching Fuka with my sword—I could never do that normally. It's terrifying.
If I had to fight Fuka anywhere else, I would have focused on escaping as quickly as possible—depending on the situation.
And this tactic was probably a one-time surprise attack.
She'll counter it next time.
"…Why didn't you go full power?"
As I withdrew my sword, Fuka asked.
"…What do you mean?"
I didn't understand her intent, so I answered with a question.
"The other day... you went a little full power."
"The other day—when? During the joint subjugation?"
She shook her head slowly.
Then when?
"During the fight at Flockheart Trading Company. Your movements had more edge than usual."
Ah—that time.
By "full power," she meant the [Layering].
"That was a buff from an original magic. Can't use magic in this tournament."
"…? Magic? To release it... you need a verbal command with ki, right?"
Fuka tilted her head and pointed out.
Again with 'ki'...
And "release"? What is she talking about?
Our conversations sometimes just don't align.
"…I see. I couldn't figure out how you defeated the black dragon... but that's how."
She nodded to herself while I was still puzzled.
"No point telling the current Orun, but remember this. I am your sword. Even if the world becomes your enemy, I will fight alongside you."
...Enemy of the world? What is she suddenly talking about?
With my head fatigued, I couldn't understand Fuka's intent.
After saying that, Fuka walked toward the waiting room.
"A somewhat anticlimactic finish, but the two finalists are decided! First—Hero Oliver Cardiff! Facing him—'Dragon Slayer' Orun Dula! The match begins tomorrow at 10 a.m.! Tomorrow at last—the strongest explorer in Tsutorail will be decided! Don't miss it!"
Listening to the crowd roar again from the host's hype, I too returned to the waiting room.
And so—I advanced to the finals.
Next—fight against Oliver.
I know his movements as well as—or even better than—Derrick's, but there are still actions like his use of [Mana Convergence] that I don't know.
He's not an easy opponent like Fuka.