Mistaken Identity

 

There he goes again, getting the wrong idea.

— Nina, the Green Witch

 

──My confidence turned out to be misplaced.

Having watched my first-round fight, the warrior I faced in the second round came charging at me with a long spear.

His plan, most likely, was to land a decisive blow before my staff could send him flying.

Not that I was dexterous enough to change my approach on the fly. I cast a defensive spell on my coat, caught the spear, and sent him flying all the same.

My third opponent was a swordsman who doubled as a sorcerer. He never once closed the distance, content to pelt me with flames again and again.

Standing there weathering his fire, I found myself reflecting that while Mashiro's technology was remarkably advanced, on par with Scarlet's even, their magic might not measure up quite as well.

It wasn't as though magic or sorcery was forbidden in these matches, yet hardly anyone used either in combat. And not just my opponents. The other bouts I'd watched from the stands were almost entirely devoid of it.

Even this swordsman, drenching me in flames as he was, produced fire at a remarkably low temperature. Five or six hundred degrees at best. At that heat, forget burning me; you couldn't even melt copper. How on earth had they smelted the armor and helmet he was wearing?

In the end, he spent about five minutes circling the arena and lobbing flames before apparently exhausting his magical energy and conceding of his own accord. I was grateful, honestly. It's far less stressful when I don't have to hurt anyone.

So what approach would my fourth-round opponent take? I was still pondering the question when my win by default was announced.

Not just for the fourth round. For every remaining match. Every other participant had withdrawn, and I'd been declared the champion.

"What in the world happened?"

Every single participant besides me forfeiting was clearly abnormal. Had something dangerous occurred? If so, perhaps I should withdraw too.

"What do you mean, 'what happened'? You take a spear to the body and flames to the face without a scratch, then send everyone flying with these lazy, halfhearted swings, and you're wondering why nobody wants to fight you? Try harder to hide the dragon, would you?"

When I raised the question, Nina heaved a deep sigh. Despite the complaints, she was grinning ear to ear for some reason.

"Looking unmotivated…"

The force field my staff generated was merely invisible; it would knock away anything it touched, but it wasn't some unavoidable magic bullet. Yuuka could easily read its range and slip past it to land a hit.

That was precisely why I'd been swinging with everything I had, to make sure it actually connected. Apparently, though, that wasn't how it looked from the outside.

"Her Highness requests your presence."

At any rate, I'd won the tournament, and now I was being summoned before Princess Aisha.

"Her Highness will arrive momentarily. You will kneel and keep your head bowed until given leave to raise it."

I was led to a small audience chamber and knelt as instructed. Come to think of it, this was my first time meeting someone of genuinely high standing. Well, Yuuka and the Swordsaints were unquestionably the most important figures in Scarlet, so it wasn't exactly my first time, but I could never quite shake the feeling that they were just the kids from the neighborhood.

Was it really acceptable to appear before royalty dressed like this? I'd been wearing my dragon-scale coat through every fight, which meant any dragon whose territory this fell within could pinpoint my location. Was that going to be a problem?

While I was lost in these idle worries, a door creaked open, and quiet footsteps came to a halt before me.

"All of you, leave us."

Princess Aisha gave the order to her attendants.

"But, Your Highness…"

"Should anything happen, do you truly believe that I, the Dragon Slayer, would be bested?"

With that, she overruled them and dismissed her retinue.

This was the private audience I'd been hoping for. Unfortunately, I still had no idea what method Nina had mentioned for restoring Ai's memories.

"Just as I suspected. You did come."

At those words, still kneeling with my head bowed, I couldn't help but look up.

Princess Aisha was not wearing her armor and helm. A sword hung at her hip, but that was all. She wore trousers and a shirt beneath a long-sleeved jacket. Not particularly princess-like, but not mannish either. If anything, the simplicity of her attire only accentuated her beauty.

Her long black hair was gathered in a single tie at her waist. Her face was younger than I'd imagined from her stern armored figure. Sixteen or seventeen, perhaps. Large, dark eyes held mine steadily.

──There was… a resemblance. Or so I felt.

She wasn't entirely unlike Ai, but she wasn't a mirror image either. It was a face that defied easy judgment.

"'Just as you suspected'…?"

"I had a vague sense of it from the moment we met at the gate."

My eyes went wide.

"Watching you fight confirmed it. You are… a dragon, aren't you?"

"You can tell who I am?"

I sprang to my feet, practically shouting the words.

It was a brazenly rude reaction toward the princess of a nation, but Princess Aisha didn't take offense. Aisha simply nodded.

"… You remember?"

"Of course. Not a single moment has passed that I have forgotten."

She gazed up at me with glistening eyes.

"Come, dragon."

Slowly, she spread both arms wide.

"Devour my body."

… Huh?

I froze, arms already half-open to embrace her.

I replayed her words in my head several times over…

"I'm sorry, what are we talking about?"

In the end, unable to make any sense of it, all I could manage was that foolish question.

"Do not claim to have forgotten the ancient covenant! Once every five hundred years, a princess is offered… and in return, you protect our kingdom!"

"… I am a dragon, yes, but I never made any such promise. In fact, this is my very first time visiting this country."

This time it was Aisha's turn to stare blankly.

"Absurd! The moment we gathered champions to slay the dragon, you appeared and swept them all aside. You would call that coincidence!?"

"… Well, I'm sorry to say…"

It was complete coincidence.