By Zephyria Red is Laina, blue is Rogia, gold is the sun that shines on them. And brilliant glory.
The ornate and geometric patterns that cannot be fully captured in the simplified badge are intricately embroidered in three backgrounds. Some scholars who saw this preached with saliva flying whenever there was a major event in the country. They said that the imperial flag of Laina Rogia was a philosophical history book encompassing the past, present, and future.
At one time, I deeply engraved their adoration in my heart and sympathized with it. I was obsessed with the meaning of the lines and planes that made up the imperial flag and swore allegiance in front of it. But not now.
‘It’s still worth watching.’
The dignified procession of national flags was also visible in the hallway of the participant waiting area. Leonardo, who was leaning against the railing and standing by the window, lowered his gaze when the sky was completely covered by the national flag.
The military band, which was set up on the transparent ground in the center of the stadium, held up trumpets and added harmonies. The bustling spectator seats and the high-ranking nobles all stood up and resonated with it. It was a magnificent sight.
Occasionally, Floating Islands floated by, and official photographers were stationed between the spectator seats, aiming lenses as large as their own bodies at various parts of the arena. Their images captured actors from theatrical troupes in unique makeup, opera singers, and two crystal main boards that occupied a considerable area.
Much like the workings of a projector, light was shone on film to enlarge the images, allowing information to be viewed from anywhere in the arena. As the national anthem gradually came to an end, the boards, which had been plastered with the imperial flag, once again displayed the list of participants in order.
Around that time, the presence of others was felt once more. The noisy chatter had subsided, but an excessive amount of tension still lingered in all directions. As if flaunting their success in passing just two tests, their jaws and shoulders were stiff with pride. They looked like nothing more than yard dogs, huffing and puffing as if ready to fight at the slightest eye contact.
‘By the way, did that Ero guy fail?’
Leonardo, wondering whether Ero had passed since he had grown somewhat fond of him, was staring intently at the crystal board. Occasionally, brief notes about unique aspects shown in previous matches were displayed below the list of participants, but they didn’t immediately catch his eye.
Even as the list passed the 400s, there was no sign of him on the screen, and when he turned around to look at the waiting area and corridors, he couldn’t see him. At this point, it seemed increasingly likely that he had been eliminated.
“I even gave him my Tokens, what on earth is he doing…”
If that was the extent of his abilities, there was nothing he could do. But it felt a little empty not seeing the guy who had been chattering beside him the whole time. He had kept offering to treat him to a meal; maybe he should have made time for it once.
Leonardo, adjusting his mask that had slipped down, decided to give up at this point. There were many fleeting encounters in life, and only a very few people went along the same path. Relinquishing the thought, he unconsciously fiddled with the blue band on his wrist, which had been put there during the identity verification process. The faintly glowing fluorescent band read No. 500, Lion.
It seemed that his identity number for this match was 500, but not number 1. The Council’s sense of humor.
“Brother!”
Just then, a rather welcome voice rang out from one side of the corridor. Leonardo’s head turned reflexively. The guy with that useless pistol dangling from his waist came into view, running towards him.
For a moment, the attention of the other competitors was focused on them, but he didn’t care. Though only his eyes were visible, Leonardo’s expression brightened enough for the other person to see.
“You’re late.”
He lowered his voice and raised his hand lightly. His eyes curved into crescents.
Ero, who had quickly approached, also let out a silly laugh. He was breathing heavily, uncharacteristically for someone so quick on his feet, as if he had come in a great hurry.
“Haa, ha―. Were you waiting for me?”
“Am I crazy? Why would I wait for you?”
“Oh, come on, Brother. You’re happy to see me.”
It might have been off-putting to have a grown man acting cute, but Leonardo, who had been secretly worried, simply snorted. He didn’t exactly deny it and changed the subject.
“What were you doing until now?”
“Ah, as the deadline approached, the road right in front was completely blocked. I was really scared I’d be late!”
“That’s something to be proud of, you should have come earlier. But you managed to pass the test?”
“Are you talking about the last match? Of course, I’m the fantastic duo with you, Brother, so that much is easy―.”
Buzz―
It was perfect timing. The two people who had been talking looked up at the ceiling where the sound was echoing. As soon as the repeated announcement ended, the scattered participants slowly got up from their seats.
They moved slowly, all heading in the same direction. Ero, watching the wave of people that had formed in an instant, opened his mouth.
“Brother, it looks like it’s starting! Let’s go too.”
“Yeah.”
“Ah, and what I was about to say just now… um, thank you for last time. I probably wouldn’t have made it through on my own if it weren’t for you, Brother.”
Leonardo, who was about to move, turned around. Ero twisted his hands shyly and then bowed 90 degrees.
“Please take care of me in the future too! I will serve you with all my heart!”
His voice was embarrassingly loud. It sounded like he was planning to freeload through this match as well, but Leonardo had always been quite awkward about how to react when he received words of gratitude. The fact that the usually boisterous guy was delivering his words so formally made it even more awkward.
Leonardo, who had been looking down at Ero’s round crown for a moment, stared intently at his face as he glanced up. Ero scratched the back of his head and grinned again as he checked Leonardo’s reaction. He looked like a spaced-out idiot, but… well, sometimes it wasn’t so bad to have an idiot tagging along.
“If you know, then do well. Let’s go.”
Leonardo, touching his lips, replied simply and strode off, his cloak trailing to his ankles. Ero, flustered by the nonchalant response, hurriedly followed after him.
His mouth was still running non-stop.
“Brother, won’t you really have a drink with me after this is over today?”
“We’ll see how it goes.”
“Ooh, you promised? You said you’d let me know depending on how it goes? By the way, what’s the number on your wrist?”
“500.”
“Wow, it seems the Council now recognizes that we’re a duo!”
[ No. 499 – Joker ]
Test Match #2: 2nd in Group C
[ No. 500 – Lion ]
Test Match #2: 1st in Group C
As the final list of participants flashed on the main board, the arena buzzed with excitement. People were seen writing numbers on pre-distributed cards, having made up their minds. These cards were special betting slips with seat numbers printed on them, and writing was only possible with the designated pens.
The first bet of the preliminaries was always relatively easy. Picking just three out of so many participants often resulted in lucky guesses even without prior information. It seemed like a loss, but there was a reason for adopting this method. The first bet was less for the benefit of the organizing body and more of a lure to attract betting participants for the larger stakes that would follow.
“It would be nice if we could bet too. It’s boring just betting among ourselves all the time.”
“Don’t forget your place. This isn’t a place to attend for enjoyment.”
Loren, with her arms crossed, coldly rejected Andreas’s grumbling. For fair operation, officials of the organization were not allowed to participate in betting. That was because anyone who knew Lion’s identity would achieve consecutive victories along with his name.
“Can’t even say anything.”
Hugo, silent amidst his subordinates’ chatter, stared at the last name that filled the main board before fading away. Until now, he had somehow managed to prevent information from spreading by intervening, but now there were many eyes watching, and reporters had flocked to capture the highlights.
It meant that it was no longer an area he could control.
Thinking that, conflicting emotions suddenly washed over him. He wanted everyone in this place to focus on Lion, but at the same time, he wanted him to remain unseen by anyone and only be in his sight, a contradictory feeling.
‘Still, since he’s entered the competition, I hope he enjoys it.’
Hugo clenched the ice pellets in his palm that was resting on the armrest. He had briefly materialized them to recall some of the notable names from the list of participants that had passed by earlier.
Tonsils, Adenoids, Gallbladder, etc. Names of things like tonsil tissues and gallbladders, which wouldn’t affect daily life even if removed, were crushed into powder by his grip.
He didn’t know why there were so many people with particularly strange pseudonyms in this preliminary round. Of course, they wouldn’t be a match for Lion, but it was necessary to keep an eye on them.
Officials in uniform moved through their assigned rows, quickly collecting the betting slips. Around that time, someone climbing the stairs between the spectator seats hurriedly ran towards the Council’s upper command seat.
Hugo and Shorendo’s eyes rolled in that direction simultaneously. The person who had suddenly appeared was Shorendo’s adjutant. She approached her superior and whispered something in her ear without even taking the time to show proper respect.
“Deputy Commander…”
Shorendo, who had been concentrating, sharply said, ‘What?’ and immediately turned to look at Hugo next to her.
When Hugo gestured with his eyes as if to say, ‘Tell me,’ Shorendo lowered her voice and conveyed in a serious tone.
“Commander, the autopsy results for Marcus Servan are out. There are no signs of ante-mortem muscle rupture on his tongue.”
Hugo, reflexively clapping his hands in response to the announcer’s voice, focused on Shorendo’s lip movements. It was hard to hear properly due to the cheers that followed. But one thing was clear.
“There’s a high possibility of post-mortem manipulation.”