Chapter 14: The Duel Event Is “The Immovable Practice”
Why are formal challenge letters always so oppressively intense.
On my desk lay a bright red envelope.
Inside, written in excessively elegant handwriting, were the following words.
“At noon, three days from now.
Wait at the Royal Arena.
The event shall be sword, spear, or bare hands.
Choose whatever you excel at.
Escape will not be permitted.
— Hilda von Dragunov”
At the bottom, a thumbprint stamped in blood-red ink glared back at me.
She was completely serious about killing me.
“…How barbaric.”
I pinched the letter between two fingers and waved it lightly.
Sword.
Spear.
Bare hands.
No matter which I chose, I could clearly envision my future three seconds into the match—being carried off to the infirmary.
I could endure Kyle-sama’s verbal abuse.
I could not endure physical impact.
“Claude-sama, can’t you do something about this?”
I pleaded with my fiancé, who was drinking tea across from me.
He shook his head apologetically.
“I’m sorry.
This is a formal challenge issued under the Empire’s Duel Code.
It’s a treaty our kingdom has ratified, so we can’t simply refuse it.”
“There’s no loophole in the law?”
“There is none.
However… there is a clause stating that the challenged party may designate the event.”
“That’s it!”
I leaned forward.
The right to choose the event.
If I had that, there was hope.
“The kind of event I can win at…
Othello.
No, explaining the rules would be tedious.
Speed eating.
No, I’d get my dress dirty.”
I crossed my arms and thought.
Something I was good at.
Something Princess Hilda would be bad at.
And something that would not tire me at all.
My gaze drifted to the cat by the window.
The cat was basking in the sunlight, sleeping without moving an inch.
“…That’s it.”
I picked up my pen.
On the reply paper, I smoothly wrote my response.
“I accept the duel.
However, the event shall be an ancient spiritual discipline passed down in our kingdom.
— ‘The Immovable Practice.’”
Three days later, at noon.
The Royal Arena was enveloped in an unusual heat.
“Hey, did you hear?
Princess Hilda and Lady Eliana are dueling.”
“Swordsmanship?
Magic combat?”
“No, apparently they’re… sitting?”
The stands were filled with bored nobles, His Majesty King Louis, and a visibly anxious Claude-sama.
At the center of the arena—
Not a ring, but on the sand—
Two cushions had been laid out.
Princess Hilda and I stood facing each other.
She wore light martial attire, brimming with fighting spirit.
I, on the other hand, wore a loose, comfortable dress.
“…You said ‘The Immovable Practice,’ didn’t you?”
Princess Hilda fixed me with a sharp gaze.
“Not a clash of bodies, but a contest of spiritual endurance.
A refined battle akin to ancient Eastern martial disciplines.
Very well, I accept.”
She had interpreted it in the most favorable way possible.
I nodded quietly.
“The rules are simple.
Sit there, cross your legs, and straighten your back.
Then—do not move.
The first to break posture, or to make a sound, loses.”
“Simple, yet profound.
…Very well!”
We sat down on the cushions.
I crossed my legs out of habit and formed a circle with my hands atop my knees.
Princess Hilda copied my posture and sat cross-legged as well.
“Begin!”
At the referee’s signal, a gong resounded.
The duel began.
One minute passed.
I was still comfortable.
The spring sunlight was warm.
Five minutes passed.
I could see beads of sweat forming on Princess Hilda’s brow.
Warriors like her were accustomed to moving, not to remaining still.
When forced into stillness, unnoticed muscle tension and sudden itches inevitably surfaced.
Ten minutes passed.
Princess Hilda’s breathing grew ragged.
She stared at me with eyes wide open, glaring intensely.
The pressure of her gaze hurt.
Perhaps she was trying to shake me with killing intent.
It was useless.
I was no longer present in this world.
“(…Oh, a butterfly.)”
My consciousness drifted into a half-awake haze.
Memories from my previous life surfaced.
Monday morning assemblies.
The president’s endlessly long speeches.
Meetings that never ended.
Within those, I had developed my ultimate survival skill.
Turning my brain off while keeping my eyes open.
Visual input entered, but I did not process it.
My eyes remained fixed, focus resting somewhere beyond the void.
To an observer, it apparently resembled
“The contemplative gaze of a sage deep in thought.”
A breeze passed.
It felt pleasant.
Warm.
I sank deeper into the sea of consciousness.
Meanwhile, Hilda was trembling with dread.
“(W-What is this woman…!)”
Cold sweat poured from her body.
Her legs were going numb.
It felt as though insects were crawling along her back.
Above all, the presence of the enemy before her—Eliana—was abnormal.
She did not move an inch.
It looked as though she was not even breathing.
Her eyes seemed to look, yet not see.
They held a bottomless emptiness that either saw through everything, or reduced everything to nothing.
“(This is… ‘The Immovable Practice’…!)”
Hilda realized it with a warrior’s intuition.
This woman was not merely sitting.
She had merged with nature itself and erased her own presence.
“(No opening…!
Even if I struck, it would feel like cutting through clouds!)”
Hilda’s anxiety grew.
Stray thoughts emerged.
“My legs hurt.”
“I’m thirsty.”
“I want to go home.”
Such weak thoughts began to surface.
In contrast, Eliana did not waver.
Her form was like a thousand-year-old great tree.
Or a monk who had reached enlightenment.
“(I’m losing…!
In mental fortitude, I can’t even reach her feet…!)”
Hilda’s breathing broke.
Her vision swayed.
For a moment, it felt as though a radiant halo appeared behind Eliana.
“…Ngh…!”
Sixty minutes passed.
That was the limit.
Hilda’s body swayed and collapsed forward.
“…I concede…!”
She caught herself with her hands and breathed heavily.
More than humiliation, what filled her was reverence.
It was a complete defeat.
She had lost without crossing blades—defeated in spirit.
“The winner, Lady Eliana!”
The referee’s voice echoed.
A murmur of awe and applause rippled through the stands.
That sound snapped me back to awareness.
“(…Huh?
It’s over?)”
Looking ahead, I saw Princess Hilda staring up at me, breathing hard, her eyes filled with respect.
“…Magnificent.
This is my complete defeat.”
“Ah, yes.
Good work.”
I slowly uncrossed my legs.
They were slightly numb, but nothing compared to three-hour meetings in my previous life.
I stood gracefully and brushed the sand from my skirt.
“Um… are you all right?”
When I offered my hand, Princess Hilda grasped it with trembling fingers.
“…You—no, you are genuine.”
“Pardon?”
“That realm of ‘nothingness.’
A mind like a willow that deflects even killing intent.
…Perhaps this is the strength I had been seeking.”
Her eyes began to sparkle.
I had a bad feeling.
A very bad feeling.
“Master!”
“…Excuse me?”
“Please!
Teach me that ultimate principle!
I want to reach that realm as well!”
Princess Hilda bowed deeply, almost prostrating herself.
In the stands, King Louis laughed thunderously and shouted,
“Did you see that, Claude!
This round is mine!”
Claude-sama buried his face in his hands and muttered,
“…I knew it would come to this.”
No.
That’s not right.
I was just sleeping.
“Um, I’m not really a master or anything—”
“Humility itself is a virtue!
I will come to the library every day starting tomorrow!
I’ll clean, carry books, do anything, so please keep me by your side!”
“…Clean?”
That word caught my attention.
Princess Hilda had strength.
Stamina.
She would be perfect for moving heavy books and cleaning high places.
My internal calculator produced its answer instantly.
“Hired.”
“…Very well.
I will allow it, on a probationary basis.”
“Oh!
My thanks, Master!”
Princess Hilda stood up, beaming.
And just like that, without meaning to, I acquired a foreign princess as a disciple—
In other words, a physical labor assistant.
On the way home.
Inside the carriage, Claude-sama said with exasperation.
“…You were sleeping quite well, Eliana.”
“You noticed?”
“I believe I know your sleeping face better than anyone in the world.”
He kissed my cheek.
“But all’s well that ends well.
Princess Hilda is completely captivated by you now.”
“She only became an apprentice.
…Tomorrow I’ll have her carry heavy books.”
I shrugged.
Well, it ended peacefully.
No muscle soreness.
And I even gained a disciple.
What I did not yet know was that this disciple would soon bring a terrifying ‘civilized invention’ into the library, triggering a catastrophe.
After spiritual training would come physical cleaning.