GDTEA Chapter 128

The Competition

A competition was held in every district of Chelonar County.

True to the nature of a day when all manner of competitions were being held across Districts A through D, the checkpoints of the county were kept constantly busy. Identity checks were carried out thoroughly, yet forged identities like those of Sharti and Ren were difficult to detect with any real precision.

That made it all too easy for the spies sent by the noble faction to blend into the crowds of competition participants and spectators, which meant that Count Chelonar had been forced to announce his absence from all competitions.

[They say the House of Chelonar has halted all public activities — so the Count, who personally took to the podium every year to deliver his opening remarks, won’t be able to do so this year, will he?

[In his place, they say he’s doubled the prize money. Meaning the prestige of winning the competition remains entirely intact.]

Though the host was absent, the doubled prize money made the atmosphere on competition day more fervent than ever.

“Teacher. I’m nervous.”

“Me too. I’m terribly anxious.”

Sharti had entered the medical competition held in District D together with Tein.

Tein registered in the children’s division, and Sharti in the adult division, respectively.

The prize money was shared, but if Tein were to win the children’s division, the benefits included either an academy admission certificate or the opportunity to become the disciple of a highly renowned physician or professor.

Winning the adult division came with the offer of being invited as a guest lecturer at the academy, or an offer of employment as a dedicated physician for a noble house.

“Grandmother has come as well. We must do our best.”

“Tein will do just fine. You’ve studied hard, haven’t you? Right?”

Though Sharti herself was nervous, having never experienced such a crowd in her life, her first priority was to settle Tein’s nerves.

Tein nodded enthusiastically, then swung Sharti’s hand back and forth with a jingle.

“I studied hard under the strange old man who does nothing but scold, too.”

The elder scholar had taken over Tein’s lessons in addition to Sharti’s.

[Preposterous! T-to think such a prodigy would call a mere woman his teacher!]

[Teacher is wonderful! She is a wonderful physician!]

[Wonderful, you say! Speaking of one who is truly wonderful — this very person graduated from the academy early some seventy years ago, endowed with genius, and the current Emperor’s personal physician is my own disciple!]

Irritated by Tein’s blind devotion to Sharti as his one and only teacher, the elder scholar had thrown himself into every lesson, marshaling every last piece of knowledge he possessed.

It was… a little satisfying, actually.

The elder scholar, ‘Ronan Begliche,’ with his extraordinary credentials, fretting desperately over his failure to win Tein over — how delightfully entertaining that had been.

Sharti chuckled softly as she recalled the memory with a touch of embarrassment.

“Scholar Ronan said there’s no problem when it comes to Tein, so Tein just needs to do what he’s always done.”

“Yes!”

Scholar Ronan had only ever clicked his tongue at Sharti.

At first, I thought it was a look that said my skills weren’t nearly enough to win.

The look of disapproval had seemed almost as though he pitied her for her abilities.

The meaning behind that look was something she would come to learn from Vireta, whom she met before entering the competition.

[I hear there’s already a predetermined winner.]

[So it’s a rigged competition, then.]

[With the Count absent, his underlings are acting on their own initiative. Nobles not wanting a commoner to enjoy the privileges of victory — that’s a common trait among them, isn’t it.]

[And knowing that, you still sent Sha into this ridiculous competition? You people really do stick to your own kind.]

Ren criticized harshly, but Sharti was fine with it.

Even if I win, I won’t be able to claim the privileges anyway.

She wasn’t foolish enough to enter an academy teeming with nobles under a forged identity.

Vireta, too, only expressed a mild hint of regret and didn’t appear particularly bothered.

‘Just having the chance to assess my own abilities right now is enough to make me happy.’

Parting from Tein, Sharti stepped into the adult participants’ waiting room and clenched her fist.

Yet despite her eager spirit, Sharti found herself quietly drifting toward the far corner of the waiting room.

“Which organization do you belong to?”

“You say you studied under the patronage of which family?”

“Ah, my master was in the 102nd class of the academy—”

Every conversation she could hear was about subjects entirely removed from her own world.

Even among commoners, not all held the same standing.

A medical license was a requirement to become a physician, and graduating from the academy was a distant dream for most commoners — so everyone here had either received the favor of a noble or built their experience under a skilled physician.

‘Hmm, I suppose they’re gathering and chattering like that on purpose.’

Sharti looked around at others who, like herself, were huddled in the corners of the waiting room, nervously watching those around them.

‘I’m nervous.’

Even within this waiting room, gazes brimming with superiority and expressions tinged with inferiority were drawing invisible lines between one another. And Sharti felt as though she were walking a precarious line right atop them.

“Participants, you may now proceed in order.”

With a pleasantly fluttering nervousness in her heart, Sharti took her first step onto the competition floor.

****

The smile never left Ren’s lips as he sat in the audience seats of the competition hall.

Thanks to the ridiculous wolf mask he wore, his smile was invisible — but every spectator seated around him could tell that Ren was in high spirits.

“That fellow’s chair shakes every time he wiggles his backside.”

“He said he came to cheer on his wife. Let’s be understanding.”

Sharti’s performance in the competition was singular enough that those around her found Ren’s exaggerated reactions perfectly understandable.

‘Of course. It’s Sha.’

Resting his chin in his hand and gazing down at the competition floor, Ren’s eyes softened.

Then his gaze shifted to the person seated beside Sharti, who seemed to be keeping a wary eye on her all along.

A participant dressed in clothing made of quite fine fabric.

‘Is that the one. The so-called predetermined winner.’

A man in his early forties, with a face so fraught with anxiety — as though a single blemish on his perfect victory might ruin everything — that he looked exactly like one.

‘Sha didn’t seem to care about winning.’

He understood that she didn’t want to put herself in the public eye unnecessarily, but even so, she was far too free of ambition.

‘Even as participants are being eliminated one by one, she doesn’t grow arrogant.’

Sharti genuinely looked like a student who had come simply to take an exam.

‘A student.’

On Sharti’s face as she worked through her exam paper, excitement was more apparent than tension.

Even while being subjected to every manner of harsh word from the cantankerous elder scholar, Sharti rejoiced in the very act of being taught.

‘Even that old man, who had dared to look down on Sha as nothing but a woman, was made to raise his hands in complete surrender.’

The inner thoughts that Scholar Ronan had let spill while berating Sharti were something only Ren, who had happened to be on his way to visit her, could have overheard.

[Why on earth does my assistant not want me? With only my instruction added to her, she could even wrest away the position of the Emperor’s personal physician!]

Ren looked down at Sharti, repeatedly clenching and unclenching his fist.

Every time he saw Sharti treating even hollow dreams as something she had no right to want, a heaviness settled in his chest.

All he could do was support and encourage her dreams — in any practical sense, there was nothing he could do for her.

Every time he became aware of that fact, a desire for power would creep in and slowly consume him.

“— Only two participants remain now!”

At last, the signal announcing the final round rang out, and Ren snapped back to his senses.

Whether the supervisor’s cry had broken her focus, Sharti was seen looking around in confusion.

Upon noticing the desks around her had all been cleared of other participants, as if only now registering the tension, Sharti’s shoulders stiffened.

‘…It really is a shame, after all.’

It was deeply regrettable that he couldn’t read the emotion flickering across the expression Sharti must be wearing at that very moment, from where he sat.

Ren rubbed his empty left hand and let out a short sigh.

“Excuse me — would you perhaps like to buy some flowers?”

Just then, a girl making her rounds through the audience seats worked up the courage to speak to Ren.

Her head was wrapped in a headscarf, and draped over her arm was a basket overflowing with roses.

Since Sharti, whom Ren was cheering for, had made it all the way to the final, those seated nearby had thoughtfully called the girl over.

“I…”

Ren hid his troubled expression behind the mask and lowered his head.

He had no money on him — that went without saying. The money from selling his sword had long since been given to Sharti to cover travel expenses.

“She might just win, you know. You’ll want to have flowers ready.”

Those around him, unaware of the state of Ren’s pockets, fanned the flame with gentle murmurs.

Ren’s brow furrowed as he swallowed a sigh.

He hadn’t imagined he would ever feel so acutely useless in quite this way.

“The flowers…”

He was about to part his lips to say he couldn’t buy them.

“Yes! Participant No. 92, Mr. Nutari, has won by a difference of one question!”

With the supervisor’s cry announcing the swift completion of grading, applause burst out from the crowd around him.

The man in his early forties whom Ren had suspected stepped up to the podium with a look of satisfaction.

“Oh, um, I… I should be going!”

With Sharti’s victory out of reach, the girl who had been nervously watching Ren’s reaction hurried away.

Ren watched the rose petals that had fallen to the ground, carried along with the lingering scent of flowers, then lifted his gaze.

“…!”

Sharti, glancing around the audience seats before making her exit, had spotted him and was giving a small wave.

In that brief instant, her pure joy at having made it all the way to the final came through.

Thanks to her facial recognition-disrupting magic tool, her expression was still unreadable — but Ren was certain she was beaming.

“…Pathetic.”

The fact that he couldn’t even buy her a single flower to celebrate made him feel utterly pathetic.

Then, all of a sudden, the thought of the different district specialties of Chelonar County crossed his mind.

“The swordsmanship competition…”

Would large and small competitions be held only in District D?

Ren got to his feet at once.

What’s this?

The entrance to the waiting room he had gone to pick up Sharti was surrounded by a crowd.

These were not family members or acquaintances who had come to collect a participant.

“Who are they waiting for?”

Unable to push his way through the crowd at all, Ren grabbed the nearest person and asked.

“Ah, it’s probably because of the female participant who narrowly lost in the final.”

“…Do you know why?”

Surely her forged identity couldn’t have been discovered.

Hearing that this entire crowd was here because of Sharti, his heart pounded rapidly with unease.

“They’re probably looking to commission her. They’ve all lined up to take a skilled physician, by the looks of it.”

“…!”

Unable to decide whether to feel glad or flustered, Ren swallowed his agitation.

But it would be the same for Sharti.

Ren strode straight into the crowd.

“Move.”

“Hey, I was here first!”

“Move.”

The momentum radiating from the ridiculous wolf mask parted the crowd before him in an instant.

Just as he expected, Sharti was visible within, at a loss from the surging crowd pressing in on her.

“Excuse me, I have someone waiting for me, so…”

“Sha—”

Ren naturally wrapped his arm around Sharti’s waist as he made himself known to her.

Sharti spun around in surprise, then let the tension drain from her shoulders.

Ignoring the crowd before him, Ren smiled at Sharti from behind the mask.

“You worked hard.”

“Mhm. It’s because you cheered me on.”

As Sharti whispered quietly and relaxed with relief, Ren took her with him and left the waiting room just like that.

The people who had been trying to get even a word in with Sharti fell silent the moment their eyes met Ren’s.

Of course, there were those who matched his fierce energy and stubbornly tried to make offers or requests anyway.

“Sha, hold on tight.”

“Hm?”

But Ren made a show of shaking them all off and made a run for it with Sharti in tow.

Whether it was from spending so much time sparring with the knights and moving his body, his whole frame felt lighter overall, and his movements and stride had grown faster.

“Grandmother and Tein… I’ll have to meet them later.”

A similar scene had unfolded at the children’s waiting room as well.

Having confirmed that Vireta had left with Tein, Sharti looked up at Ren. Then, as she reached out to straighten his crooked mask, Ren lowered himself to her eye level first.

“Shall we head back to the count’s mansion now?”

As Sharti asked, brushing back his sweat-dampened bangs, Ren cast his gaze downward.

“There’s somewhere I want to go.”

“Where?”

“…The swordsmanship competition.”

Deep teal eyes met hers.

Ren blinked slowly.

“Sha, if you cheer me on, I know I can do well too.”

“…”

“Will you… come with me?”

As Sharti drew her hand back, the back of her neck turned faintly red.

“Let’s go, Ren.”

The warmth of the small hand that took his was quite pleasant.

A smile tugged at the corner of Ren’s lips.

****

At that same hour, the swordsman Ben with light blue hair had climbed up a tree in District A, where the Swordsmanship Academy was located.

“Have to find the commander.”

His face hidden beneath a hat, Ben clutched tightly a single sword he had recovered from Bibanten Street.

This sword, said to have been sold by a man with the build of a bear, was one that had been wielded by the head of the House of Gwendhill for generations.