The Weeping Swordsman

A boy strode down the alley, his short dark hair barely visible beneath the oversized coat he wore. A mask partially concealed his face, leaving only his eyes.

“Aren’t we on the same side, you bastard!” a hunter said, stretching out his arm. “You see me as some kind of dirt that needs to be wiped, right? Well, same here bastard”

A blast of energy erupted from the hunter’s outstretched hand, shooting toward the boy, and tearing through him. He vanished.

“Dammit! I need to get out of here,” the hunter turned away, seeing Ryder behind him.

“Let’s make this quick. The boss expects me to be done with this in a day,” Ryder said under his breath. “So... hurry up and die”

The hunter shook off his mask, his crazed face smiling. “I know who you are. Yes…. Yes! You’re the Damm slave of that Darius guy. Nothing but his pet. Right?”

Ryder exhaled slowly, cold breath fogging his gloves. “I’m just someone, he’s keeping an eye on. But you don’t need about that right? You are dying after all.”

“Who said I’m dying?” he raised his arm again. “I’ve got a lot more energy up in here, don’t think I’m done”

“You’re already dead,” Ryder whispered. “Your little outburst or explosion as you may call it, caused quite the commotion in town. My orders were simple—take you all out... quietly”

“And how do you plan to do that? Huh? I can enter the other realm, the same way you can! The same second power” The man stretched out his hands. “See, I’m not planning to go down without a fight, and trust me—it’ll be anything but quiet.

“There isn’t a fight anymore,” Ryder whispered. “As I mentioned, you’re already dead. Look around.”

The hunter scoffed, glancing around the deserted alley. Nothing had changed. “This isn’t the time for games, Darius’ pet.”

Ryder yawned and glared at him. “Alright, then... goodbye.”

“Huh? I didn’t hear you”

The ground crumbled as a rock shot out from the floor, smashing his skull.

Ryder strolled to the body, he snapped his fingers as the surrounding houses sank into the ground. He looked down at the body. “I never said I was limited to just two powers. You were far too weak.”

He squatted, surveying the now-empty wasteland where the alley and houses once stood. “I need to perfect this realm,” he said to himself. “But first... time to find those new adventurers. They should be much more interesting.”

Ryder approached the body without haste, snapping his fingers as the buildings surrounding them began to sink into the earth, swallowed by the snowy desert. He knelt beside the lifeless hunter, his voice soft.

*

Emilia sat on the edge of her bed, still dressed in her morning clothes, scribbling away in her journal.

A day has passed since we left the dungeon. We all got paid, and I managed to gather information about the other entrances. The first one was clear of monsters, so I guess Jiji was right. The second entrance... well, that was a nightmare. A ton of traps and, from what they said, ‘a swarm of monsters, everything from goblins to giant mosquitoes.’ They didn’t even finish the job and had to leave early. No pay for them. Jiji can be so harsh.

That was my first time in a dungeon. It was exciting—well, aside from the reset and rolling boulders. As for the others, we went our separate ways. I didn’t get a chance to talk to Lily about the whole disciple and walking thing. I’m sure we’ll meet again.

Emilia paused, letting the pen rest as she stared at the page. She thought of Mr Swordsman and Pasta. Both had been acting strange yesterday. Usually, they’d plan some sightseeing after the raid, but now? The air between them felt heavy, almost melancholic. Emilia chewed on her lip, torn between wanting to ask and feeling it might be rude to pry. Wait a minute, she thought. Of course, she could pry. She has a right to.

Emilia slapped herself. “I need to cheer both of them up,” she said, nodding.

Emilia stood up, pacing a few steps before sinking back down. But then, she shot up again. This time, ready for anything.

Today is supposed to be a happy day. No time for sulking! They’re both locked up in their rooms, brooding. If I have to drag them out myself, I will!” she said, clenching her fist, eyes shining with determination.

Emilia giggled as she rose from the bed, heading over to her mirror. She smoothed her hair. The Demir of grandeur, she mused. Before becoming an adventurer, she had devoured countless books about dungeons and ancient ruins, but Valdorith—that was a new name.

She set down her brush and began choosing an outfit. Her hand hesitated over the same sweater she’d been wearing for days. It wasn’t actually old; in fact, it cost a fortune, the same sweater she was accused of stealing. But after so many days, she was growing tired of it, although she had limited options.

As she strapped her sword to her waist, she remembered the first entrance. *Aurelis, the guardian of the elves... a wolf who could manipulate every element without using any life force and also the guardian of the elves. I’ve heard of her, but the dragon... Valdorith? Just what is their relation?*

Shaking the thoughts aside, Emilia reached for the door. “Maybe I should pay Jiji a visit,” she whispered, fingers brushing the handle. “She seems to know more about the dragon. But for now, I’ll drag those two out-”

But before she could open the door, it burst inward, knocking her back. Emilia fell to the floor, reaching for her sword.

Pasta stood with a bright smile. “Let’s go!”

“Eh?”

Pasta pulled her to her feet and dragged her out into the hallway, where Mr. Swordsman leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

“I thought you both were in your rooms?”

Pasta drew her closer, “We are going sightseeing, right? Why would I be in my room?”

Emilia chuckled nervously. “You two were pretty down yesterday after the raid, so I thought—”

Her words trailed off as she caught the sparkle in Pasta’s eyes.

“I was down yesterday?” Pasta scratched his head, laughing. “I must’ve forgotten about it then.”

Emilia eyed him. “You’re acting strange. And not your everyday strange. But a different kind of strange”

Pasta released his arms on her and marched ahead. “Let’s hurry up. The day is still young”

She sighed, falling in step behind him. As she passed Mr. Swordsman, he pushed off the wall and straightened up.

“I’m fine,” he said. “We should get moving. Sightseeing, right?”

Emilia nodded, still unsure of what was going on, but she smiled nonetheless.

“Let’s go then,” Mr Swordsman said. Before the innkeeper gets here.

*

Earlier that morning...

Mr. Swordsman sat alone, his bare chest rising and falling steadily as he crossed his legs on the cold floor, meditating in silence.

Fire, water, earth, darkness. He sighed. Wrath was the hardest to purge.

It took longer than usual, drawing the raw energy from the second layer of his life force and carefully releasing it, slow enough to avoid an outburst. No matter how hard he tried to focus, he couldn’t get her off her mind: Lily.

He lowered his head, eyes opening. “Again,” he whispered, getting up and wearing his clothes and weaving his hair back. The hat followed.

After the dungeon raid, her final words echoed in his mind—Forget everything I said. She smiled at him and left without a goodbye.

He was right, after all. Is not his fault. Bloodborne had given him the task of guarding them for a reason. Why else would the Duke assign him, of all the countless S-rank adventurers he had in his guild, to this mission? It was because of his strength. His tolerance. I can control my emotions without effort, he thought. I can be lively too.

Mr Swordsman stood by his door, his hand stooping midway to the handle.

There’s no reason for us to stay here anymore, he thought, The second realm is just a ship ride away.

Mr Swordsman shook his head, opened the door, and arrived at the halls of the inn. “I should control my emotions better,” he muttered as he headed for Pasta’s room.

“Yes, cutting off those guards’ heads was a mistake, but who doesn’t make mistakes? Today I’ll show her”

He arrived at Pasta’s door, wondering why he came here in the first place. “I’m going back to bed,” he said.

“Holy mother of Mikah!”

A loud thud followed.

Mr Swordsman kicked the door open, sword drawn in an instant. His sharp gaze swept the room, but what he found made him freeze.

“Where’s the wall?” he asked, disbelieved as he stared at the gaping hole in what used to be a solid surface.

Pasta sat on the floor, scratching his head. “I was working on my impact strikes”

“Indoors?”

Pasta nodded, still chuckling as if he hadn’t just blown a hole through the inn. “Yeah, I got a bit carried away. We should probably, you know, leave before anyone notices.”

Without a word, Mr. Swordsman grabbed Pasta by the collar, hauling him to his feet. See, Lily?* he thought as his jaw clenched. *I can control my emotions.

*

“You’re acting weird, Pasta,” Emilia eyed him.

Pasta laughed out, hands on his hips. “Hey, Mr. Swordsman, you gotta teach me that third power!” he said, clearly trying to change the topic.

“You haven’t even learnt the second”

Pasta nudged him. “Come on, you can at least show me, right?”

Mr Swordsman, held the edge of his hat, turning away. “It’s too crowded here”

Emilia pulled out her guidebook. “There are so many places I want to see: the skating rink, the crystal forest, the Coliseum of Fate... Oh! Aurora Isle for couples!” She squealed, already imagining herself with an elf prince, fireworks illuminating the sky as they confessed their love. Her heart was seconds away from exploding just from the thought.

“Wait, did you say coliseum?” Pasta’s eyes lit up as he snatched the guidebook from her. “Where? Where?!” He started flipping through the pages.

Emilia quickly swiped it off his fingers.

Mr Swordsman sighed and grabbed the book from Emilia. “I want to see too,” he said, sounding forced.

Emilia and Pasta stared at him.

“Uh... you okay there, Mr. Swordsman?” Pasta asked, raising an eyebrow.

Mr Swordsman glued his eyes on the book. Nothing seemed interesting. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re never interested in stuff like this. You’re always like, ‘No,’ ‘Yes,’ ‘Energy,’” Pasta said, drawing an amused nod from Emilia.

Without looking up, Mr. Swordsman pointed to a section in the book. “Yes. This will do.”

Emilia read the spot he was pointing at. “Ice fishing?” she asked, unimpressed.

“Mr Swordsman, you’re also a Mr Fisherman? That’s cool, it is,” Pasta said, getting closer to Mr Swordsman. “You did see the coliseum there, right? right?”

Mr Swordsman stayed quiet, crossing his arms.

Emilia closed her book. “Ok then, guess we’re going ice fishing”

“Wait, wait, wait a damm minute,” Pasta said, “When did we decide on that?”

“Mr Swordsman never gets to indulge in his hobbies. Let’s give him a chance for once,” Emilia said, smiling.

No, I talk about my hobbies all the time, Mr Swordsman thought, but said nothing.

“But, but—”

Emilia cut him off by throwing her fist in the air. “Let’s go ice fishing, then!”

They wandered the city looking for directions, only to find themselves at the heart of it. The crew stopped in their tracks, eyes fixed upward, marvelling at what was above. Massive glowing snowflakes hung suspended in the sky, forming a barrier that limited the amount of snow falling into the area. The snowfall was gentle, and controlled, allowing the lifts nearby to remain functional even during fierce snowstorms.

Mr Swordsman sighed, so much time on the mountains had turned him into some kind of caveman, awestruck by something so simple. But as he glanced at the others, he had two fellow cavemen beside him, just as captivated.

Emilia nudged Pasta with her elbow. “Doesn’t this remind you of the Sixth Realm’s palace?”

Pasta nodded, eyes wide. “Yeah, it looks incredible.”

A visible disappointment crawled into Mr Swordsman’s face. He was the only caveman.

Posters flew through the sky, accompanied by a loud chant. “Be there by seven! It’ll be the sight of a lifetime!” a familiar voice shouted.

“The brave, ambitious, talented and loving Jiji would dazzle your eyes with the most spectacular show in the nine realms, that even the lords would be amazed,” another said.

Pasta smirked. “What are those guys doing?”

Emilia walked toward the source of the noise, waving. “Hey Kabal, hey Shot! Promoting tonight’s firework show?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Shot replied with a grin.

Mr Swordsman turned to Pasta, mimicking the tone but still horrible at it. “Isn’t it obvious, Pasta?”

“Yeah, yeah, rub it in”

Kabal let out a hearty laugh, his massive hand landing on Emilia’s shoulder. “You lot seem to be doing well. My friend and I are helping spread the word for the show.”

Shot squeezed in between them.“She also promised us special seats if we helped out. Might even score us some ladies.”

Kabal laughed again, this time clapping Shot on the back.

Mr. Swordsman raised an eyebrow. “What does a child know about picking out the right ladies?”

“That’s exactly what I asked,” Shot said. “But she said that’s precisely why she knows best. Gotta trust Jiji’s word on this one”

Kabal clasped Mr Swordsman’s shoulder, locking eyes with him. “Comrade. It’s been a while. Tell me, what’s your kind of woman”

Emilia and Pasta turned to him, their eyes widening and ears shooting out like an elf.

“I don’t have the time for such,” Mr Swordsman said, freeing himself from his grip.

“I see,” Kabal turned over. “You’re interested in men”

Pasta fell to the floor, laughing. “You read my mind, Kabal!”

Her face remained calm, but her lips twitched so much, that Emilia couldn’t speak.

With a sigh, Mr. Swordsman adjusted his hat. “Fine. If you must know, I like tall girls, with a solid physique, exceptional combat skills, and a mastery of advanced energy—second power level is sufficient. She should be fun to be around, capable in a fight, and, most importantly, she must not like corn.”

Everyone blinked in stunned silence, staring at him.

“Why corn?” Shot asked.

Emilia pulled out her guild book, clearly trying to distract herself. Her interest in the conversation had turned into dust.

“So you’re into beasts?” Kabal asked, “How about you, Pasta. What’s your type of girl?”

Pasta got up from the floor, clearing his throat and stretching his arms. “That’s simple, a girl with a big- “

Emilia knocked his head over, with her book. “Don’t you have no shame, saying that in public?”

Pasta lay twitching on the ground, stammering, “I… I was going to s-say big… p-personality… big personality.”

Shot and Kabal helped him up, giving a thumbs up. “We like big personalities too,” they said in unison.

Mr. Swordsman crossed his arms, nodding. “A girl must be good. Evil and deceit are out of the question.”

They all stared at him again.

“What?” he asked.

Emilia stretched, tapping his head. “You’re so innocent, Mr Swordsman. Please remain that way”

He stood there, feeling more unsettled than before.

Emilia turned to Kabal, “By the way, do you know where we can do some ice fishing? It wasn’t mentioned at the adventurer’s guild.”

“It’s pretty far from here, try checking out the next town,” Kabal said.

Shot eyed him. “Isn’t that hunter’s territory?”

Kabal scoffed. “Did you see the strength of this team? A measly band of hunters can’t stop them. Mr Swordsman, the indomitable warrior who took down both stoned true dragon guards with a single strike and Pasta, who, I’ve been told, defeated said true dragon and countless monsters.”

Shot nodded. “Yes, yes. You’re right. Hunters are pretty much low-levelled in their eyes”

Mr Swordsman couldn’t feel proud about it and could have sworn he saw Emilia glaring at him.

Meanwhile, Pasta bowed his head. He would have felt better if he remembered the fight and the dragon’s last words, but one thing remained clear in his mind—he needed to get stronger.

“THERE THEY ARE!” A man yelled. “Those are the adventurers that wrecked my inn!”

“Run!” Pasta shouted, grabbing Emilia’s arm.

“What’s going on?” she asked,

“I said RUN!” Pasta yanked her forward, dragging her across the city centre.

Mr Swordsman was already halfway down the road, having no intention of using his savings to pay for the damages. He wasn’t about to let his pouch suffer for an inn’s rebuilding costs.

Kabal and Shot waved them off with amused smiles but were soon interrupted by the innkeeper’s furious scream.

“You won’t escape me! I’ve hired one of the best adventurers in the realm to track you down!”

*

Emilia bent over, catching her breath. *When in the world did Pasta get so fast?*

“C-can someone explain why the innkeeper was screaming at us?” she asked.

Pasta chuckled, brushing it off and pointing toward the lifts. “Hey, Emilia, check it out! Those lifts can take us to the upper levels. Let’s go!”

He bolted ahead, running from her question.

Emilia shot a glance at Mr. Swordsman, silently demanding an explanation. But he just shrugged. Her glare doesn’t faze me one bit, he thought, though what stirred inside him felt less like a warrior’s instinct and more like something... familiar, akin to the feeling he once got from Bloodborne.

“You should meditate more often,” he said, trailing after Pasta.

“Hey! Get back here! You haven’t answered my question, and for the record, I do meditate sometimes. Not often, but I try! Can you hear me?!”

Pasta arrived at the lifts, excited for the coliseum. Unfortunately, they were cordoned off with bright yellow tapes. A man in a long coat stood nearby, casually taking a drag from his cigarette.

“Hey, what’s wrong with the lifts?” Pasta asked.

The man turned away, avoiding eye contact, clearly trying to sidestep the question. Undeterred, Pasta moved to hop over the barrier.

“Whoa, hold up! Do you want to get yourself arrested?” the man asked.

Emilia and Mr Swordsman finally arrived, catching up just in time. “What’s the problem here?” Emilia asked.

The guard dropped his cigar. This was his job, after all, just had to deal with it. “Nobles from around the realms, including the swordsman Jiji, are on the higher grounds. For their safety, access has been restricted”

Pasta groaned. “First ice fishing, now this. Can’t anything go right today?”

Emilia tugged him away from the lifts with a polite nod to the officer. “Thank you for your help.”

The guard shooed them away and continued his leisure.

Pasta slumped onto a nearby bench. “This city may be the capital, but it’s so boring.”

Emilia sat beside him. “It’s lively, Pasta. We’re just stuck on the lower levels. All the exciting places I mentioned are up top. The reason it feels dull down here is because of how dangerous it is.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. It’s because of the hunters, right?”

“Well, yes, but there are other reasons, too. For instance, remember how the fourth realm doesn’t have a border gate like the sixth realm? That makes the lower level vulnerable to attacks from bandits and more”

Pasta fell back into the snow, drawing in it with a stick. “Why don’t they just build a gate?”

“It takes a lot of resources to build one. And with the harsh weather, it would take ages. Some say that’s why the fourth realm has the strongest guards. Either that or the lord is just too cheap to invest in one.”

“No wonder hunters are swarming all over the place. It’s the lord’s fault, to begin with,” Mr Swordsman chimed in.

Emilia picked up a ball of snow and began rolling it between her hands, trying to stave off her boredom. “At least the adventurer’s guild is on the lower levels, so it’s a bit safer down here,” she said.

A crowd of people rushed past them.

Emilia sprang to her feet. “What’s going on over there? Let’s check it out. Anything is better than just sitting here.”

Pasta stood up, tossing aside the stick he’d been fiddling with. “Couldn’t agree more.”

They followed the crowd, weaving through the growing murmurs.

“Oh dear…”

“What a horrible sight. Where are the guards?” a man muttered.

When they reached the scene, Emilia gasped. A man lay sprawled on the ground, a jagged stone shot up from the earth, impaling his skull.

“We’re adventurers, let us through,” Mr Swordsman said, stepping forward. He knelt beside the body, analyzing it. “Faint traces of energy… Seems like whoever did this wants us to find him.”

Pasta scanned the corpse. “Same as before. He’s the one who attacked me just before we raided the dungeon.”

*What are they talking about?* Emilia thought, glancing at the two. Mr Swordsman’s right... I really do need to meditate more.

“There’s no point in feeling sorry for the man,” someone said. A stranger walked over. “He’s a hunter. This mask was found in his bag.” He held up a half-broken mask.

“I heard there’s a war between adventurers and hunters around here,” Emilia said.

The man nodded. “You must be new around these parts. The conflict’s been raging for a while. A lot of dead on both sides, but this... this is different. The way he died… it looks like the earth itself struck him down.”

Mr Swordsman gripped his sword, turning away from the scene. “We’re going ice fishing tomorrow. We need to get some rest tonight.”

Pasta stretched lazily. “Yeah, I’m all for that.”

Emilia shook her head, waving her hands. “Oh no, no. I’m not fighting any hunters. That’s way too dangerous.”

Pasta laughed “Since when have you fought, anyway?” he said, but quickly got a solid knock on the head from Emilia.

“Also, don’t forget, there’s the fireworks festival tonight,” Emilia said. “If you want to go, we can always ice fish tomorrow.”

The guys groaned in unison. Mr Swordsman had hoped to confront this mysterious hunter.

Soon after, the guards arrived, taking the body away. The crowd dispersed, gossiping as they left the scene. Emilia turned to the others, a gleam in her eyes. “Well, since we can’t go back to the inn yet, how about we do some window shopping to pass the time?”

Pasta sighed, standing up and brushing snow off his pants. “Window shopping, huh? Guess it’s better than nothing”

*

The air was buzzing with life, or was it something else that was buzzing? Well, it was buzzing that’s for sure. Towering structures lined the streets, offering protection from the cold, while rows of vibrant stalls promised food, entertainment, and everything in between. All roads led to the evening’s main event: the fireworks show.

Emilia stood at the entrance, wide-eyed in amazement. “This... was all set up by that little girl?”

Pasta’s legs were already jittery, drawn by the tantalizing smell of food wafting through the air. His nose twitched as he took a step forward, almost hypnotized by the delicious scent—until an iron grip yanked him back. It was Mr. Swordsman.

“We need to stick together,” he said. “I’m not letting what happened at Pyrovile repeat itself.”

“What happened at Pyrovile?” Pasta asked.

Emilia gave him a swift knock on the head. “You left us at Cumbleton’s to get food and ended up in jail, remember?”

He chuckled. “Well a guy’s got to eat and I’ve learnt a new skill recently for this kind of situation”

Mr Swordsman raised an eyebrow. “What skill?”

Pasta smirked, activating a miniature burst of energy, catching Mr Swordsman off-guard just enough for him to loosen his grip. In that split second, Pasta bolted, disappearing into the festival crowd.

“Why did you let go of him?” Emilia asked, but he didn’t respond.

Mr. Swordsman frowned as he walked into the festival. That burst... it was nearly flawless. He must’ve practised it countless times,* he thought. *But when? I’ve never seen him practice it. Also, it didn’t feel like him

*

“Get your ice fish here!”

“Hot soup. Plenty of hot soup here,” a man yelled.

“Snacks of different kinds, name it we got it”

Stalls all around and Pasta didn’t know where to begin.

He raised his pouch of saved coins. This was the time he had been waiting for. Pasta ran to each stall, getting everything and anything edible into his mouth.

The vendors noticed him quickly and began to swarm, waving their menus and dishes in his face like flies.

“Calm down, everyone! I’ve got enough for all of you!” Pasta laughed his mouth already full of treats.

The other guests stared at him, disgusted.

Undeterred, Pasta found a nearby stall, plopped down, and continued ordering more food—his hands already overflowing with plates.

From a nearby table, a voice called out, muffled by the sound of furious chewing.

“I wonder Pasta, you really are a foodie aren’t you and a terrible fighter too,” a girl said, her face deep in her meal, pink hair standing out.

“Huh?” Pasta glared at her. “I don’t know who you are and don’t care. Insult my strength again and I’ll kick your face into the dirt”

“Ahh so good!” Tori yelled, banging her plate on the table. “I like to see you try”

Pasta’s jaw dropped, a piece of meat falling out of his mouth. “T-Tori?!”

“In the flesh,” she replied, already grabbing another plate of food. “I didn’t know you all are heading to the fourth realm?”

Pasta continued staring at her. “I had no idea it was you. Normally, you’ll wear revealing outfits that don’t suit you”

“Yeah, I guess pink hair is common here- “she paused turning to him, slowly. “Did you just say those outfits don’t fit me?”

“Ye- “

Her boiling soup went straight for his face, he dodged it right in time. Also grabbing the bowl. “Thank you for the meal”

Tori clicked her tongue. “So you’ve been training huh?”

Pasta drank the soup. “Every day. I’m always tired, but I’m getting the hang of it.”

She went closer to him, “Ok then, let’s have a little competition then”

“I’m listening”

“Eating contest. Winner takes all”

“And what do you mean by all?”

Tori picked a piece of meat from the soup and ate it. “All, Pasta, all”

*

A large table was set, and five plates of food were piled high. A crowd quickly gathered to witness the spectacle.

“Welcome, everyone! I’m Farrie, your beloved chef and judge for this evening’s grand eating contest!” the chef called out, his voice carrying over the enthusiastic cheers.

“On the right, we have the famed adventurer from overseas, Tori”

Tori tied her napkin with a wave, earning applause from the audience.

“And on the left... we have Pasta, a low-rank adventurer named after a dish!”

Pasta jumped out of his seat. “Yes! Let’s go!” he yelled excitedly. His cheer was met with awkward silence from the crowd, and he sat back down.

Farrie grinned and continued. “The rules are simple. Five dishes each. The loser pays for both meals and forfeits all their belongings. Are you both ready?”

The crowd roared in excitement, while some onlookers muttered, “Why do we even care about this?”

“A little entertainment, won’t hurt right? Let’s go yeah!” He yelled.

The competition began, and Pasta wasted no time, tossing food into his mouth without even chewing. His first plate was gone in seconds, and he immediately started on the second. Tori, on the other hand, was still on her first. “Why does it have to be spicy food...” she muttered, trailing behind him.

Pasta arrived at his third, moving strong. While Tori had just arrived at her second.

She smirked, wearing her headphones while she held her baton. “Hey, Pasta”

“Huh?” he replied, mouth stuffed with food.

Her scythe swung toward him, the blade aimed at his face. Pasta dodged, the crowd gasping and cheering as he knocked it away with his sword, all while still chewing.

“It seems Tori’s mixing things up!” Farrieyelled. “Since no rules were set beforehand, no disqualifications!”

The audience erupted in cheers, loving the unexpected twist.

Tori grinned, her blades spinning dangerously. “You’re not the only one who’s been training, Pasta. I’ve picked up a few tricks myself. Good luck”

Pasta saw the scythe fly towards him. Something he never could imagine would happen to him. With speed, he blocked the strike with his sword.

Tori kept on eating as the blades around her headphones spun.

The strikes were not fast but were distracting. If this was a real fight, he’d have no problem, this was new to him.

But then, an idea—a crazy one—sparked in his eyes.

As Tori ate at her own pace, she glanced over at him, only to be stunned. Pasta was shoving food into his mouth and fending off her scythe with his sword at the same time! She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

Tori began hurrying up, and the same for Pasta. They ate and ate.

Both contestants raced through their final plates, the crowd on the edge of their seats. Tori, sensing defeat, bowed her head briefly before steeling herself and eating as fast as she could. But Pasta smiled. He admired her determination, but he knew this victory was his.

He arrived at the last ball of meat. Then for that time, a new word appeared in his dictionary. Overfeeding.

Groaning, Pasta slumped onto the table, food spilling from his mouth.

“And the winner is... Tori!” Farrie declared, raising her hand as the crowd erupted in cheers.

Meanwhile, Emilia strolled through the festival, her arms laden with snacks and novels. Mr. Swordsman helped carry a few as well.

She gasped when she spotted her. “Tori!”

Tori waved her hands frantically, so she wouldn’t come close. Emilia jumped into her arms.

Mr Swordsman closed his eyes as Tori released all her winnings on Emilia. He couldn’t help to give a smile, until. He noticed a strong energy, faint just like the dragons and different from the one before.

From afar a group of hunters waited. For peace and tranquillity.