The Start of Something Grand

All the morning’s attention had been diverted to one thing, and one thing alone now. The audience hall was filled with an unnatural amount of noise, even for its very loud habitude. Large cameras darted the perimeter, while journalists from distant worlds posed their questions, barging into half-eaten breakfasts and such.

The crew were somewhere vaguely off-centre. Journalists still surrounded them, but were now being told off, by virtue of a few kind, Participants. It was the big day. They’d all come and fought for the same thing, and a general sense of respect was shared between them all.

Hornet-Ballbroken-Man was escorting the journalists elsewhere. “Come on now…” he said, with a gentle, but firm tone. “Give them peace, won’t you? How’d you feel if you got harassed on your big day, huh? Talk about a nosy bunch…”

The curious crowd eventually dissipated, leaving only hag and loli left.

Cerica hugged her friend’s arm. “O-M-G, Jenn, I’m so proud of you! I still can’t believe you made finals!”

“Yeah, I think you made that pretty clear when you knocked on my door at midnight.”

“I’m a lightweight you know~ And we didn’t exactly get a moment to ourselves at dinner, hm hm. Seeing as you were with all your super special friends, and not with dear Cerica-chan.”

“You know what? That’s a very fair response. Next time I get wasted, I’ll break down your door and throw you into a river again. Just to re-live the good old days.”

“Only if you princess carry me there~” The loli was silent for some time. “But wait—if you’ll be there to throw me in a river—does that mean you’ll let me tag along with you?”

“Yeah, sure,” Jenn replied as she took a bite of raw cucumber. “If I haven’t croaked by then, you can harvest my kidney while you’re at it.”

She drifted into idle thought, eyes focused on an unlit lamp. When Filly and Numarei came, Jenn snapped out of it and seemed to assess their faces.

“Did they come to you?” Numarei asked, forthright.

“Yep,” Jenn admitted. “Fat guy in jewels?”

The two nodded. They spoke in reference to Horhe Antisen: Prince of Commercial affairs. From their discussion, it became obvious that he had sought them prior, in more intimate settings, and offered something of a proposal. This was all somewhat to Jenn’s expectation.

He was there when the Lord Regent’s attendant—Anera, spoke to Jenn about her arm. About what it could do if she deemed fit. Perhaps then, he feared for the King’s life and wanted him to go on living.

Gold. Jewels. Men. Women. Horhe had offered, with a greasy stroke of his chin. What would it take to get Jenn Cockehead to forfeit her place in the tournament?

Filly took one quick glance at Jenn’s face. “Gave a prize for forfeiture.”

“Same,” said Numarei, looking a little bit annoyed. “...What a drag.” She shook her head in obvious displeasure, but spoke no more.

Cerica butt her head in. “Not to step on your toes, but, you really gonna let some merchant’s political machi-whatevernations kill your fight boner?”

“Well… no.” Numarei went on. “But I can be kinda sensitive, you know.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that. We all get our fancies tickled in different ways—just… don’t let some no-name goober’s nonsense subsume your happiness, you know?”

Numarei lifted her eyes. “I’ll try.” A smirk creased her lip.

When they ate for twenty minutes more, chatting, smiling, and biding their time, the general notion that things would start crept in. The Lord Regent’s attendants lined the wall. The general chatter grew louder and more fervent.

At last, the Lord Regent—Wakisaki Aka’ichi, made his appearance. He emerged from the centre platform. Pale as ever, with his long, white hair. Though now, he seemed to be fully-equipped in a sense, with his fitted cuirass, a crown atop his head, and a sabre by his side.

“Gaudy much?” Cerica said.

Jenn was silent, brooding over the quiet implication of it all.

“Boys and girls…” Wakisaki cleared his throat. “We stand at the precipice of something great—something extraordinary indeed. Having passed all their respective trials, we have before us four of the greatest warriors in all of Indaria. And now… well—how do I put it? We’ll get to see them fight each other.”

Three robed boys came from the door behind the Lord Regent. They held a staff in one hand and a censer in another.

Next were the two attendants. With their kimonos and black eyes, they gave an otherworldly presence and seemed to herald the start of something. A certain gravitas with a certain sense of importance.

“Now then…” coughed Wakisaki.

The two attendants drew a sabre from their waist. They sliced a rope tethered to the platform. A great scroll unfurled, over a dozen metres wide and half as tall. On it were all the remaining participants, with their pictures drawn and their titles written.

Jenn Cockehead—Demonhand.

Kyoujyou Numarei—Asura Fist.

Filly the Technically a Horseman—Filly the Foal.

Mo Xixi—Heaven’s Butcher.

A drawing of the King was on top. A boy with a purple bob cut and a pretty complexion. Beneath him were tree-like lines, connected to each of the other remaining Participants, signifying that whoever won their next to battles would face him.

Filly eyed his title. “I ain’t one to complain. But I’ll just say I ain’t one to complain.” He stared at the scroll. Wide-eyed. Like always. “Now hold on a steed’s saddle. Seein’ as you two’s drawing’s come first, don’t it mean?”

“Yeah,” said Jenn. “Me and Numa? We're next.”