Hentai King System

"Today is the final of the Academy Martial Arts Tournament. Ticket scalping near the venue is strictly forbidden. If staff confirm a sale on the spot, the relevant ticket will be invalidated immediately. Repeating—"

A loudspeaker-magic voice that pierced the ears rang across the royal capital's main avenue.

The Academy Martial Arts Tournament.

For the people living in the royal capital, it was a major event.

Drunkards in taverns, scholars shut in studies, knights who guarded the kingdom's order, all turned their eyes to this tournament.

Onlookers heated by betting formed lines from early morning and filled the street before the sun had even fully risen.

For commoners who normally lacked entertainment, the Academy Martial Arts Tournament was one of the few events that made their hearts leap.

First round, second round.

At first there was still room.

There were fathers watching with children on their shoulders, and old women waving handmade support flags.

But as the tournament advanced, the air changed.

Fervor piled up with each match, and eventually it became frenzy.

The price of viewing tickets jumped as well, and they went out of commoners' reach.

Appearing in place of commoners were knight-order officers, representatives of the adventurer guild, and great merchants looking toward the kingdom's future.

They were discerning the students' ability and thinking "whom to lock down."

And this year.

That fervor had gone off the rails.

Listed in the final was Amelia Fiorett Wistaria, the Fifth Princess.

Fifth though she was, she was proper royalty.

Each of her movements could sway the kingdom's future.

Would she take the path of politics, bear the core of the army, or be used in strategy with other countries.

All of that hung on today's one fight.

High nobles who would not appear in ordinary years had been arriving in linked carriages from early morning.

And above all, the opponent facing her was abnormal as well.

The hero of the Valstine campaign, Rigel von Gousel.

Even though he was competing with that merit concealed, rumors had already begun to spread.

In the third round he had defeated Aria of the Seven Treasure Sword, Condemnation Execution, who served as Discipline Committee chair.

In the following semifinal he had beaten "supernova Testarossa" from the front.

As a result, some eyes were beginning to notice his identity.

This martial arts tournament no longer stayed a contest among students.

It had taken on the appearance of a war over "initiative of the future" by those involved in the nation's core.

That the Academy Martial Arts Tournament was a major event of the royal capital, and that its final in particular was popular, was true every year.

But this year was a huge success incomparable to ordinary years.

What was born as a result of that was—

"Won't someone please give me a viewing ticket…! Please, please…!!"

A girl's voice rang especially high in front of the venue entrance.

But that shout melted into the surroundings as if erased by the wind.

""...""

The people around were silent.

Those present in this place before the venue could be divided into two large kinds.

Those who had viewing tickets.

And those who did not.

That divide was a crueler "line" than money or status.

"Please! I really want to see today's match—kyah!?"

"You're in the way, miss!!"

Together with an angry voice as if spat out, the girl was lightly shoved.

Her body floated in midair for an instant, then her knees hit the cobblestones.

In that moment a golden light flew from her pocket.

One gold coin.

"Ah! Wait!"

The girl hurriedly chased it.

But she was late.

The gold coin that fell to the ground was trampled under a man's shoe sole.

"Aaaah…!!"

The girl raised a pained voice.

Looking down at a girl like that, the man spat.

"Heh! There's no way you'd get a final viewing ticket with one measly gold coin!!"

Contempt seeped into the words.

Then he glanced at the girl as if mocking her and quickly left the place.

His back had no hesitation at all, and like countless others he headed for the venue wanting to see the day's protagonists even once.

There were various kinds of viewing tickets too.

The front-row special seats were said to let one even feel the swordsmen's breathing and the sound of sand dancing.

Mid-level seats were a popular position where one could look over the whole battlefield while still enjoying the force.

And the upper level.

One could only see from afar, and sound did not reach, drowned by the audience's stir.

Among them there were even seats where pillars blocked the view and stole even vision.

The list price of one gold coin was for such inferior seats where one could only "enjoy the atmosphere."

But even such seats were already out of reach.

This tournament had gathered unprecedented attention, and the price of viewing tickets had jumped.

All over the city there was no end of people dropping their shoulders saying "if only I'd secured them a little earlier."

Furthermore, strict announcements forbidding scalping were repeated many times, and resale near the venue was sealed.

"Uu…"

The girl squatted on the ground and quietly picked up the broken gold coin.

In her hand it was terribly cold, and heavy.

More than monetary value, her "wish" was packed there.

That day, the first time she saw—

"Lord Rigel's valiant figure… will I never see it again…"

The mutter that spilled from her lips vanished into the sky like a breath.

In those eyes a faint film of tears had formed.

That drop spilled onto her dry cheek.

On the day of the semifinal, the viewing seat she had entered with her father.

The very top of the venue, the very edge of the edge.

A place where the stage barely entered her vision.

Far away, the warriors' voices did not reach.

Even facial expressions were unclear.

But even so she had kept her eyes open.

"Supernova Testarossa," a strong enemy everyone believed could not be beaten.

The one who overwhelmed that opponent with movement like wind.

That was Rigel.

His sword handling, footwork, the way he took distance in a single instant.

All of it stole the girl's heart.

An illusion as if her own heartbeat synchronized with his movement.

It was not mere admiration.

It had gone beyond respect.

It was a feeling that still had no name, something that had sprouted deep in her chest, yet was hot as if burning.

"For the final I wanted… to feel Lord Rigel's voice and expression and everything from closer… I thought that, but…"

It was already too late.

Even if she tried to get a final viewing ticket at the timing when the semifinal ended, it was of course sold out.

At the venue sales booths "sold out, thank you" signs lined up, and in front of the gate people who had missed the purchase dropped their shoulders mixed with sighs.

"The merchant houses handled them too, but I can't pay a hundred gold coins… Somehow near the venue, some kind person…"

In those words there was a ring closer to prayer than hope.

For a commoner girl like her, a hundred gold coins was a pipe dream.

In her life from birth until now she had never even touched such a large sum.

But she did not want to give up.

If there was even a slight possibility, she wanted to bet on it.

The girl held such thoughts.

There were several reasons ticket scalping near the venue was forbidden, but the largest reason was "to prevent chaos."

There had been many troubles over viewing tickets in the past, and there were even cases that developed into riots because of that.

But merchant houses and the like raising the price of viewing tickets they obtained, so-called resale, was not forbidden.

If one had sufficient funds like a noble or great merchant, obtaining them was easy, but unfortunately a commoner girl had no such leeway.

The remaining possibility was one.

Having someone give her one at list price near the venue.

Someone had arranged multiple viewing tickets, but a companion's schedule no longer worked at the last minute.

If there were such a person, what would they do with the leftover viewing ticket?

Sales above list price near the venue were forbidden, and if it was a last-minute cancellation there was no time to sell through a merchant house.

Then there was the possibility they would sell the leftover viewing ticket at list price as "better than throwing it away."

Very slight, but not zero.

"Won't someone give me a viewing ticket!! At this rate my record of 'watching every match for three years straight' will be broken! I never thought it would be this huge a success and let my guard down!!"

Suddenly a large voice rang.

When she turned her gaze, there was a man desperately raising his voice in the plaza in front of the venue.

Around his late thirties perhaps, colors of impatience and despair seeped on his face.

But the surrounding reaction was cold itself.

"…What's that."

"His voice is too loud."

"Unsightly."

People holding official viewing tickets passed by as if avoiding him.

His existence probably only registered as unpleasant noise.

(…)

The girl stood still and silently watched the man's figure.

It was exactly her own figure now.

A comical, desperate existence bathed in gazes of pity and contempt from those around.

(…Is it impossible after all.)

The girl lowered her eyes with a self-mocking tinge.

In the first place, were there really people with leftover viewing tickets?

People who secured viewing tickets for this major event and then canceled should not be that common.

Even if there were, it would be normal to know the cancellation plan by the day before.

If they sold to a merchant house at that stage, it would become many times the list price.

It was useless.

Even if she stayed here, nothing would happen.

Deep in her chest a faint fire was about to go out.

But.

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