Rumor held that the Evil God’s resurrection was nigh. Over the past few years, a number of omens had been observed. It could happen as late as the end of the year or as soon as the very next day.
“……I regret my actions. I accept that I’ve done wrong.” It was three days after the semifinal match of the tournament, and Adlet was imprisoned in a jail for the most heinous of criminals. The high chancellor stood on the other side of the bars, a sour look on his face.
Adlet was seriously injured. His head, shoulders, and both legs were wrapped in bandages, and his right arm hung in a sling. Even Adlet couldn’t have escaped unscathed when so outnumbered. He took a seat on the cold bed, faced the high chancellor in front of his cell, and spoke. “Just so you know, I did want to enter the tournament legitimately. But there were these rules and stuff, and they just wouldn’t let me into the arena,” he grumbled. The Tournament Before the Divine had rules. The weapons allowed were limited, permissible tactics were restricted, and foul play or attempts to catch one’s opponent by surprise were forbidden. Had he followed the rules, Adlet would have been useless. “As you know, I’m the strongest man in the world, but those rules kinda cramped my style. So I had no choice but to ignore them and invite myself in.”
“What is your goal?” demanded the high chancellor.
“Duh. To be chosen as one of the Braves of the Six Flowers.”
“A Brave? You? A scoundrel like you, chosen as one of the honorable Braves of the Six Flowers?”
“Oh, I’ll be chosen. Of course I will. ’Cause I’m the strongest man in the world.” Adlet smiled, and the high chancellor struck the iron bars. This old guy sure lacks self-control, thought Adlet.
“You feel no remorse at all!” the old man accused.
“Yes, I do. I really do. I injured a lot of people, like the soldiers in your personal guard and the royal guard.”
“And how do you feel about having made a mess of this sacred tournament?”
“What does that matter?”
The high chancellor emitted an incomprehensible sound and drew his sword. His bodyguards desperately restrained him as he attempted to pry open the lock of Adlet’s cell. “Listen, you! You’ll stay in here forever! You’re headed for the noose! Absolutely!” With his soldiers escorting him, the high chancellor exited the jail.
Adlet sprawled out on the bed and shrugged as if to say, What a mess.
He remembered his confrontation with the old knight and the mercenary three days earlier. Both had been terrifyingly strong. If Adlet had made even one wrong move, he would most likely have lost. But he’d still managed to pull off a victory. It hadn’t been a pretty fight, but still, he had won. That was proof enough that he was the strongest man in the world.
“Now that I think of it, that was the only letdown,” Adlet muttered as he rolled around on his bunk. He was thinking about Princess Nashetania—Nashetania Rouie Piena Augustra, the crown princess of the Land of Bountiful Fields, Piena. She was of noble birth, first in line to inherit the crown, and also the strongest warrior in Piena. He had heard she was a Saint, wielding power she had received from the Spirit of Blades, and capable of conjuring blades from thin air at will. Nashetania had been the victor of the sacred tournament the previous year. The winner of the match that Adlet had interrupted would have competed with her in the final round. Adlet had wanted to battle Nashetania. Even if he couldn’t fight her, he’d at least wanted to see her face. He’d figured that if he defeated the two men, with any luck, she might have turned up. But in the end, she was a no-show. Well, it doesn’t really matter, anyway, he thought, yawning.
“Oh. I found you.” Just then, a voice addressed him from the other side of the bars. The person standing there looked out of place in the somber prison.
“Who’re you?” asked Adlet.
The maiden was beautiful and blond with a wonderful, soothing smile. She wore a maid’s black uniform, but it didn’t suit her. It would have been more fitting on a plainer girl. “You’re Adlet, right? Pardon me, but could you come over here?” His visitor beckoned him to come close.
Confused, Adlet got up, moving toward the bars. When he approached her, a sweet smell like apples wafted toward him. It was a pleasant, enchanting scent that he had never smelled before.
“Please, shake my hand.” Suddenly, the girl passed her hand through the space between the bars.
“Huh?”
“I apologize for the sudden intrusion. You put on such a show in that fight three days ago. It left quite an impression on me. You’ve made me a fan.”
“…Huh? What?” The girl’s scent had melted all the circuits in his brain, and that was all the reply he could muster.
“Please shake my hand. Come on.”
Adlet did as he was told and lightly grasped the hand she extended. It was so soft, he marveled that such suppleness could even exist.
Lightly pressing her palm in his, the girl said, “You’re really anxious, aren’t you, Adlet? Is this perhaps the first time you’ve ever held a girl’s hand?” She covered her mouth as she gave him a mean smile.
Adlet panicked and released her hand. “Wh-what’re you talking about? I’m totally calm. I’ve held girls’ hands lots of times.”
His guest giggled. “You’re blushing.”
When she laughed, it felt like the apple scent she exuded became even stronger. Adlet looked away, covering his flushed cheeks.
“You’re such a great fighter, but you can’t handle girls?” she teased.
“Come on. Adlet Mayer is the strongest man in
