Following Professor Dominic's instructions, I stepped into my designated position, facing my opponent across the sparring floor. The weight of the wooden sword in my hand felt strangely heavier than usual—probably because my mind was cluttered with too many thoughts.
I needed to end this match quickly.
The sooner it was over, the sooner I could get back to figuring out what was happening with Elena… and the strange shifts in the story.
I tightened my grip around the sword. Focus.
"Is everyone ready?"
"Yes."
"I'm ready," I answered, my voice calm despite the tension building in my chest.
"Then… begin the match!"
The instant Professor Dominic gave the signal, I lunged forward, closing the distance between us in a single breath.
But something was off.
Tatsuya didn't move.
Even as I charged, he remained crouched, perfectly still, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his wooden sword—one he'd insisted on keeping sheathed, for whatever reason.
Was he planning to defend? Or was this some kind of bluff?
As I drew closer, I caught a clear glimpse of his expression—focused, unflinching, and eerily calm. He wasn't just standing still… he was waiting.
The moment I stepped into his range—
"Battō!!!"
"What—!?"
The sudden shout hit me like a thunderclap. For an instant, my mind went blank. That word—battō—was way too familiar.
Did he just… use that?
I didn't have time to finish the thought.
A blur of motion erupted in front of me—the wooden sword flashed from its scabbard faster than my eyes could follow.
"—!"
Instinct took over. I ducked.
Whoosh!
The blade sliced through the air above me, the wind from it grazing the top of my head. The sound alone was enough to make my heart pound.
If that had hit me, I'd have been out cold.
He's fast.
That single, clean motion—it wasn't something an amateur could pull off. The precision, the timing, the confidence in that draw—it all pointed to one thing.
Tatsuya wasn't just some random opponent.
He knew exactly what he was doing.
Straightening my posture, I took a step back, keeping my guard up as I exhaled slowly.
So much for ending this quickly.
This was going to be a real fight.
A chill ran down my spine as I instinctively took a step back, widening the distance between us.
Tatsuya, however, had already resheathed his sword, his movements calm and deliberate as he adjusted his stance once more.
Was that even allowed?
Technically, yes—I was the one who had agreed to let him use the scabbard—but I hadn't expected him to swing it like that. That earlier strike had been nothing short of terrifying.
My gaze darted toward Professor Dominic. He stood in the same spot, arms crossed, face unreadable. Not a single word, not even the faintest movement.
So that meant… he was allowing this.
A silent acknowledgment that everything happening here was within the rules.
I swallowed hard, tightening my grip on my sword.
Right. This was my own fault for agreeing too quickly.
"Damn it," I muttered under my breath, cursing my past self for nodding without thinking.
Still, something about Tatsuya's behavior nagged at me.
After that brutal draw strike that nearly split my head open, he hadn't followed up. He had every opportunity—my stance was broken, my guard wide open—but instead of pressing the attack, he'd calmly resheathed his blade and given me space.
Why?
Was it arrogance? Mercy? Or…
Could it be that battō—the draw technique—was all he knew?
I replayed his movements in my mind. His speed was undeniably impressive, and the precision of that strike had been real. But beyond that… his posture, his footwork—it didn't have the polish of someone well-trained in standard sword forms.
My eyes narrowed.
If that really was his only technique, then this fight wasn't unwinnable.
As long as I could survive that first strike… the next turn would be mine.
It's just a spar, I reminded myself. Losing here won't kill me. There's no risk—only experience to gain.
I steadied my breathing and shifted into position, raising my sword once more.
The air between us grew heavy, the tension coiling tighter with every heartbeat.
Across from me, Tatsuya bent his knees slightly, his hand resting lightly on his hilt. His gaze locked on mine, unwavering.
The moment his shoulder twitched—
—I moved.
Tatsuya, who had been waiting for me to make the first move, drew his sword the moment I stepped into range.
"Battō…!!!"
I blinked.
…Does he have some kind of condition where he'll die if he doesn't shout the name of his technique?
"Battō!!!" he yelled again, even louder this time.
The next instant, his wooden sword flashed upward, slicing through the air toward my head in a sharp diagonal line.
I tilted my head just in time, feeling the wind of his strike brush past my ear. From bottom to top—it was fast, but not fast enough.
Having dodged his sword again, a certain confidence surged inside me.
—I've got this.
His chest was wide open after that full-force swing. Without hesitation, I stepped forward and drove my sword straight into the exposed spot.
"Gah—!"
Tatsuya's breath hitched as my strike landed cleanly against his chest, and he stumbled backward, falling to the ground with a dull thud.
"Match over!"
Professor Dominic's voice cut through the air, clear and firm.
I exhaled slowly, lowering my sword. The tension drained from my shoulders, replaced by relief.
Honestly, that was a close one.
If I hadn't known about battō—that peculiar quick-draw technique—things could've ended very differently. An ordinary student in this world, who'd never heard of such a move, might've been caught completely off guard.
But there was something even stranger about all this.
Tatsuya.
That name. His clothes. His style.
None of it matched anything from the comic I remembered.
I rubbed the back of my neck, my mind racing. Was he… always supposed to be here? No, impossible. The author must've added a new character.
Before I could dwell on it further, Tatsuya sat up, clutching his chest where my strike had landed. Despite the pain, a bright grin spread across his face.
"Ahaha! I lost! That was a splendid match, Lord Louis!"
He reached out his hand toward me, his expression nothing but sincere.
I stared at his hand for a moment, hesitating.
Then I sighed quietly—and took it.
His grip was firm, warm, and oddly familiar for someone I'd just met.
First Elena acting differently.
Now Tatsuya, a character who wasn't supposed to exist.
This world… it's no longer following the script I knew.
And that thought sent a chill down my spine.
Something was changing—quietly, but surely.
And I wasn't sure if that was a good thing.