Chapter 50: The Holy Ellencia Swordsmanship Tournament

At last, the tournament begins.
I’m nervous in more ways than one.

The Holy Ellencia Swordsmanship Tournament, made possible through the cooperation of so many people.

…At this point, the original purpose has completely drifted away somewhere.
There’s no room left for my personal circumstances to slip in.
I never imagined it would turn out like this.

I belong to the tournament’s operations committee, but at the same time, I’m also part of the medical team.
The medical team includes healers dispatched from the church.
Since I’ve continued my work at the church, many of them are familiar faces.

Knights have gathered in groups by house, along with individual participants.
The venue has semicircular, tiered seating for spectators, with one side left open as a waiting area.
Numerous tents have been set up there.

“…Preparations are complete.”

As the person responsible for this tournament, I’ve been dressed in a special outfit and will be giving the opening address.
Not Lady Katalina, but me.

Regarding Lady Ellencia, whose name became the origin of the tournament, information about what kind of person she was has been shared with both participants and spectators through the church.

To bestow the honor she never received upon a saint who lacked recognition.
And by extension, to grant honor to capable knights who have yet to receive it.

That is the purpose of this tournament, and with that explanation, everything fits together.
Of course, that was the result of discussion and agreement.

“Sister Electra, this is the holy sword blessed by the church.”

“Yes, Archbishop Rowena.”

I receive the holy sword, still sheathed.
It’s heavy.

I haven’t seen the blade, but the hilt is richly decorated.
It’s a splendid sword, though it looks ceremonial.

“It has been forged as a sword suitable for actual combat.
It has also received a blessing.”

“Oh.”

“The knights will surely want to wield it.”

“…I imagine so.”

It needs to be something knights admire.
Something close to a medal of honor, yet also a practical weapon.

Of course, if it’s difficult to use, there’s no obligation to do so.
It’s true that it wouldn’t be easy to use on a daily basis.

“…Then I will keep it with me.”

“Yes.”

Even with the Duchess and the Archbishop present, I’m the one giving the opening address.
It does make me wonder, but their authority is almost too overwhelming.

This tournament is a first-of-its-kind event.
Its atmosphere is closer to a public festival.

Because of that, it’s believed I’m better suited to energize the crowd than they are.

Sir Richard is acting together with the knights of the Ryuswell ducal house, but his official affiliation is with the Grandra Border Marquisate.
He’s fired up, determined to bring honor to his homeland.

“Please, this way.”

“Thank you.”

Together with several members of the operations committee, I step out into the arena.

The semicircular, tiered spectator seats are completely full.
The buzz of voices fills the air, perfectly capturing the atmosphere of a festival about to begin.

The participating knights are lined up neatly by their respective knight orders.
This discipline, regardless of house affiliation, really is typical of knights.

Those participating as individuals are lined up nearby as well.

…Somewhere among them, my former husband must be present too.
With Lady Katalina’s support, we accepted his participation.

But I don’t look toward him.
Instead, I search for Sir Richard.

Silver hair, blue eyes, and a well-trained body.
The engagement ring I used to wear is now on a necklace, resting against his chest.
It serves as his charm for battle.

Without speaking, we meet each other’s gaze and smile.
Our hearts are already connected.

A movable platform has been set up in front of the knights, with the spectator seats behind it.

“Knights of the Kingdom of Lance, and all those gathered here to witness their glory, I offer you my greetings.
I am Electra Vent, affiliated with the church of the Grandra Border Marquisate, and the operations director of today’s Holy Ellencia Swordsmanship Tournament.
This tournament was held in the hope that it might, in some small way, contribute to the glory of knights who dedicate themselves daily to training.
I would be honored if you would demonstrate the results of your training to all who have gathered here today.”

I take a breath.

“We have prepared full medical support for any who are injured.
However, we sincerely hope that all of you will pass through this tournament without harm.”

I lift the sheathed holy sword with both hands, cradling it.

“This holy sword, blessed by the church, will be presented to the victor.
May this sword become a symbol of the knights’ honor.”

At that moment, I use magic.

Not for healing or enhancement, but simply to create light.

I’ve grown used to it and can now control the brightness just right.
Instead of the blinding flash I once used, a gentle glow envelops both the holy sword and myself.

It’s meant to create a mystical atmosphere and enhance the sense of reverence surrounding the sword.

Whether it worked or not, the knights stare up at me in surprise.
I smile back at them.

“Then, let the Holy Ellencia Swordsmanship Tournament begin!”