--The new arena in King's Landing, tentatively named "King's Landing Colosseum".

　This as yet unnamed arena was known to be an arena built for martial arts competitions.
　However, the wise know better.
　While the power of the king and princesses is indeed powerful, they are not allowed to dictate the construction of huge buildings for the sake of such a one-trick pony.

　Then there is some meaning to this tournament.
　There are several possible reasons, but none of them are beyond the realm of speculation.

The reception desk is here!

　Inside the Colosseum. Inside the Colosseum of the Royal Capital, the entrance hall to the spectator seats was currently accepting registrations for martial arts tournaments.

　Many skilled fighters gathered to enter their names, either by writing them down themselves or by asking someone to write them for them.

　In the crowded hall, there were many people who looked at the braggarts around them as if they were gawking.
　Often, the roughnecks would make eye contact with each other and go out for a match before the preliminary round.
　At first, the administrators were not concerned about their private fights, but when they were repeated too many times, they banned them.

　--Because this was the first attempt, the staff was flexible in their approach.
　As it was their first attempt, the staff was flexible in their approach.
　However, there is a solid soil that allows for such failures, and they write down reports on what they have done so that they can move on.

　The manual, which had been created based only on our expectations before we knew what we were doing, could be said to be fully functional.

　I can't help but feel sorry for the efforts of others.

　Nevertheless.
　Even the staff in the entrance hall hadn't anticipated this situation.

　Both doors open. Light streaming in. Their steps were graceful, their boots reverberating on the new cobblestone floor, and the ripples of sound drew the attention of everyone in the hall.

　Roughnecks grabbing each other by the chest. Those who leaned back against the pillars of the hall, pondering. The carefree ones who had come to enter with their friends.

　All their eyes converged on her.
　They looked at her like she was on a red carpet that hadn't even been rolled out.
　Opening the way for everyone.

　The discerning and the skilled and the fierce have seen it. He's a master at what he does.
　And a woman with the stench of blood on her hands, who's done this to many people.

"Huh. ......

　The receptionist's expression tightened. But even the fiercest men in the room were not auspicious enough to protect her.
　A few of them reacted to her unmistakable murderous spirit and took a stance, but that was as far as they went.

　Her slit eyes caught the receptionist. Standing in front of her, she brushes away her wavy blonde hair in a graceful and beautiful gesture. She coughed lightly and adjusted her vocal chords, and her voice quivered with an admonishing tone.

"Is this your entry?
"Yes, yes, yes!

　The receptionist unconsciously shakes her head several times.
　No wonder. Her presence is dense, spreading a clear, deadly energy around her. It should be spreading in every direction, but it's so strong that it feels as if it's directed at you alone.

　The first thing you should do is to look at your eyes.

"Le, Le, come here.
Let's see.

　The hand-painted scroll is one that many of the registrants have picked up and looked through. She seemed to have no aversion to it, even through her white dress gloves, which were not clean.

　Even if she is not optimistic enough to see her entry as an aristocratic indulgence, she doesn't seem to have the airs and graces of a high-born lady.

　I'm not sure what to make of it, but I'm sure it's a good idea.

I see. ......1 One question.
"Yes, of course!

　She giggled with her hand over her mouth as she answered as if she were a chambermaid.

"Don't be afraid. I'm just a participant, and you're not the master, are you?　You should have a little more dignity.

　No matter what you say!　I put away the cry of my heart.
　I had to put it away. Because of that question.

"...... Why is killing a defeat?　Isn't it victory?
"What ...... is that, ......?

　Unfortunately, the Lord Treasurer's manual did not include the reason for the rule.
　Rules are rules. It's just their way of saying, "Rules are rules.

"Ruh-roo, that's why, I'm told. ......

　She said with a tearful look on her face that she might be killed.
　I've been going through all the procedures of the fiercest of the fierce with a smile on my face, and I inwardly lament how this is happening.

　It was inevitable. The receptionist was cute and animal-like, and there was no one who would have wanted to kill her.

"It's warm in here, too.

　The receptionist looked up at the words that were muttered to her as if to spit them out.
　The receptionist looked up at him with a smile that had never changed.

It's a good thing. If you pass the battle royale qualifying round, you will be able to play in the tournament with the special players?
"Yes, yes!　Well, depending on the number of entrants, the qualifying groups will be divided into several!　There will be two winners in each group!


I understand. The qualifying round is going to be divided into ...... preparatory exercises (warm-up). ......

　As she muttered this, her eyes turned from the receptionist to the direction above her.
　The sign above the reception counter already showed the players on the waiting list and the tournament schedule that would be played.
　I don't know who's going to be placed where, but...

"You're there, aren't you?

　The question went unanswered.

You know, you can register at .......
Of course I'm in.
And you can write on this paper, .......
No need.

　She brushes her hair and picks up the quill.

　She brushes her hair and picks up a quill. The receptionist couldn't help but notice her sharp gaze and fluid hand. 　

　It was majestic.


　In a beautiful handwriting, the name was drawn like the signature of a popular fighter.


　--Aylwin Bearclaw Smiles.


Good day to you, then.

　With a light wink, she turns her back on the receptionist.

　Just when I thought the storm was finally going to pass, it did.


"There, gentlemen. And you, the double swordsman. And the one with the gold bar who just made eye contact.


　She looked around the hall, and they looked up as she pointed out names.
　Each one of them was a warrior who was on the lookout for her - Aylan - and who was being watched and considered a prospect upon entry.

"What's ......?
I'm sure you're not the only one who can't catch a glimpse of me.

　A chuckle.
　That smile turns into a vicious fang.

"You can't control it, can you?　Shall we chant together?

　The name of the smile is provocation. The name of the smile is provocation. Attracting their gaze, she says.

"Until we sink and fizzle.

　These are not the kind of people who would shy away from such an incitement.
　A fierce warrior who has made a name for himself in the field of martial arts is being urged on like this by an opponent he considers to be just as strong.
　There was not a single reason not to take her up on it, and he walked out with her.

　Behind the door that opened upon her return, the receptionist thought she saw a fallen guard.




　--The day of the preliminary round. They never showed up.

















"Oh, I'm pretty good at what I do!　Can't you hire me as a live-in guard or something?　Just for the duration of the tournament, that's all!

　I'm not sure if you've seen this before, but I've seen it before.

　I'm not sure what to make of that.
　First of all, Futa had no money. All he has is his pocket money.

"Well, why me?
"You have enough money to have a maid!
"Oh, ...... I see.

　You've got enough money to have a maid! Corona tilted her head.
　It may not have been her fault, but it seemed that her clothes had played a role.

I've got some money ...... in my pocket .......

　You'll be able to find a lot more than just a few of these in the marketplace.

"Uh, no, yeah. Anyway, do you have any money?
I don't have a place to stay. d*mn, I have to stay here for the whole tournament.

　"d*mn, I have to stay here during the tournament.
　That made sense to Futa. He had heard that the lodgings were overbooked, and from the looks of it, she seemed to be reasonably good.

"Are you going to the fighting tournament?
"Yes!　My brother has one too, with a sword!

　The first corner of the eye is flashing.
　"This is the first time I've ever seen that.
　I'm not sure what to make of that. I'm not.

　I'm not sure what to do. I felt a little taller when you said that.

"So, what do you think? "So, what do you think? A guy who's good enough to enter martial arts tournaments is going to escort you. Hey, please, I don't need a lot of money, just food and lodging, okay?　Yeah?

　Thinking about what to do, Futa looked at Korona.
　But she just shrugged her shoulders. She was juggling with everyone's wallets, as if to say, "Maids don't get to decide.

"Let's not do that.
"Heck no.

　Aside from the maid, who sneezed and pouted her lips when she was deprived of the tools to pass the time.

I don't know if I'm up to the task of guarding you.

　I don't know if I can be an escort," said Pasta with a raised corner of his mouth.


　She continued to look at Leafy, still hiding her nasty expression under her hood.

If you're willing to do some menial work, I can put you up for the duration of the tournament.
"Really?　If you're willing to work for me, I can keep you for the duration of the tournament.
It's a scam if you do it wrong. Of course you can.
Yes!

　I'm sure you'll be happy to hear that.

　Originally, Futa was supposed to start training for the martial arts tournament today as a live-in trainee.
　Corona had given permission for him to accompany her, and this was his first overnight stay in the capital in six months.

　The destination was Pasta's house, which used to be the villa of the Orba Trading Company.

"Well, you are .......

　So, scratching her cheek, Leafy looked at Futa and Pasta and asked.

"Are you this brother's sister?

　A moment of silence.

　I'm not sure if it's a good idea, but I think it's a good idea.
　There was a subtle air coming from the pasta next to her. I don't know what it is, but it's a strange and sticky hatred for the humiliation of being mistaken for a sister.

　However, she quickly dismissed the hint and nodded in an unusually cheerful voice.

Yes?　I'm Pasta Pomodoro. You're Futa. Uh, ...... Futa Pomodoro.
Hey.

　I'm Pasta Pomodoro.

"You idiot. How can a rich person not have a last name?
I'm not sure if I'm going to get on this train.

　Futa felt pity for the girl who didn't have a place to stay, but he didn't expect to be dragged into this farce.
　Pasta seemed to have an idea, but he didn't know what it was at the moment.

　The whispered exchange seemed to have been lost in the hustle and bustle around them, and Leafy could only tilt his head.

"So, where's your maid?
"Heck...
"That's a funny name.

　The maid sneezed, and Leafy replied in a matter-of-fact manner.

No, of course not. ......
I don't know if it's because they're weak in the head, but all warriors are.

　I'm not sure what to do, but I'm sure it's a good idea.

I'm Hekuchi. Nice to meet you!
Don't get in!
I'm not sure what to say. It's the maid who sneezed when asked to say her name.
Where's your sense of responsibility?
It's like, "Well, there's pasta, so why not hekuchi?
Hey, can you please not mix pasta with that little sneeze?
Why are you so proud of your name?
What's wrong with that?

　Leafy was staring at the loud and boisterous crowd.

　He was a little stunned, but then he started to blurt out a little, then he started to laugh, and then he started to scream with his stomach in his hands.

"Hahaha!　You're so close, brother and sister and attendant.
"We don't get along, I'm afraid.
I'm sorry, but I've never heard that insult before in my life.
"Maid, I don't get along with my sister very well!
"All deny it!

　"Maid, I don't get along with my sister very well!
　I'm not sure what to make of it, but I'm sure it's worth it.

　I'm not sure what to say, but I'm going to say it.

I'll take care of you. I'm Leafy. I'm Leafy Lean Glide!