“So no plots to assassinate me yet?”
“Not by the looks of it. Fool she may be, but she clearly understands your strength.”
“Coward!”
“You have yourself to blame for this, my lord.”
“Because I scared her?”
“She was terrified of you.”
“I guess. She got so pale I thought she was gonna wet herself.”
“As provincial as your lordship is, please refrain from using such vulgar words.”
“Provincial? I am the Beast King.”
“All the more reason for you to act like one.”
“Oh, shut it. What’s the target up to now?”
“According to Godo, participating in the fighting tournament.”
“The qualifiers should be going on right now. Any news?”
“The target has passed the qualifiers. It’s why she is still under observation.”
“I might just hire her if she does well enough.”
“Unlikely. She hates you, you know.”
“Not happening, huh?”
“No.”
“Well, I guess I’ll do what I can to enjoy myself.”
“You are free to do as you please. Just make sure to put an end to it.”
“I know. You have nothing to worry about.”
“I shall leave it in your capable hands.”
“You got it! Heh heh… I can’t wait to see what happens next!”
Chapter 2:
The Nature of the Beast King
A FEW DAYS AFTER our victory in the second round, Fran was in perfect form. She had slept, eaten, trained, and fluffed Jet’s fur.
Did you sleep well, Fran?
“Hm…” said Fran, half-asleep. She rubbed her eyes as she ate breakfast. Despite her apparent sleepiness, her hand continued moving, determined to fill her belly.
Today’s your first match in the finals.
“Hm…”
She was her usual sleepy self this morning. I thought that was excellent. If Fran were fully alert, I would’ve wondered whether she’d gotten any sleep at all. Today, like all the days before, Fran needed to bathe and have her hair dried and brushed. Which was precisely why I thought today, like all the days before it, she should be in top fighting form. That said, her hair was going to need some extra attention.
It’s your big fight today, Fran. You have to look good for it.
“I don’t care.”
Oh, come on. Think of all the people who are going to see you.
Fran finally woke up as I was doing her hair. Her eyes lit up as she gave Jet the same treatment.
“You’ll have to look pretty too, Jet.”
“Woof!”
Jet squinted with pleasure and rolled over to show her his belly.
“Here?”
“Arf!”
He reminded me of a goofy Golden Retriever that an old man in my neighborhood used to keep. Jet didn’t seem like a wolf in the slightest, let alone a direwolf.
We have a few hours before we need to leave. Anything you want to do before then?
“Hm. Come here, Teacher.”
Okay…what’s up?
“Hm.”
Fran produced a piece of cloth from her Pocket Dimension and began buffing my blade. She laid me on the bed and put her back into it.
Hey, you still have a match to fight. Don’t go tiring yourself out, now.
“I’m fine.”
But…
“I’m not the only one in the arena today.”
What?
“Think of all the people who’ll see you today. You need to look good, too,” Fran said, continuing her maintenance.
As much as I wanted to thank her, I thought of myself as nothing more than a weapon in her arsenal. Try as I might to refuse, her expert hands were too much for me to resist.
Aah, yeah…that hits the spot.
“Here?”
Yep…right there…that’s good!
“Hm!”
Thirty minutes later, my blade shone like a mirror. Fran wiped a bead of sweat from her chin and nodded at her reflection with satisfaction.
You still good on stamina?
“I’m fine.”
Good. Exhausting herself for the sake of maintaining me would be putting the sword before the swordsman.
All right, let’s get going.
“Hm!”
Fighters participating in the finals were told to gather at the guild. A-Block fighters needed to be especially early, since our fights started in the morning.
“A-11…Fran?”
“Hm.”
A tournament official approached as soon as we entered the guildhall. The officials had probably memorized the faces of each fighter. “Right this way.”
The man led us to a waiting room, formerly the guild’s private quarters. The second and third floors had been converted for the contestants, since making everyone wait in the same room was bound to cause fights and scuffles. I could easily imagine Fran being the cause.
“You will be fighting in the sixth round today. Please wait here until then. Each match has a hard time limit of thirty minutes, so you will wait a maximum of two and a half hours.”
“Hm. Sure.”
“You will be allowed to watch other matches once you have finished your own, but please do not leave the room until then. You may be called up earlier if the preceding fights go faster.”
The finals had a time limit to prevent slow matches and to allow the tournament to get on with its primary business. In the event the time ran out, judges would be called to decide the victor.
“If you need anything, just talk to the official outside your room.”
The official would provide anything from light refreshments to last-minute shopping. Tournament finalists were treated like VIPs. Everything we needed was in our Pocket Dimension, so I doubted we would need to use him. Sure enough, Fran wasted no time in pulling out refreshments.
You know, you ate a lot on the way here…are you sure you should be eating this close to the fight?
“Hm!”
Fran was already stuffing her face full of curry before I could finish my sentence. I was worried it would slow her down in the match. Then again, whatever ill effects she suffered from the curry would be easily offset by the dramatic boost in motivation it provided. Besides, I doubted even a massive plate of it would fill her stomach to the brim.
Well, just take it slow.
“Don’t worry. I’m only half full.” She polished the plate off in a matter of minutes.
I’ll cast some Cleansing Magic so the room won’t stink as much.
She carried on with steak, a cutlet bowl, and finished up with cake for dessert. Fran ate and relaxed for about an hour until a knock came at the door.
“May I come in, Fran?”
“Hm,” Fran answered with
