Although a fair number of the academy's professors and upper-year students could tell that the "Honedge" had transformed from an "equipment card" into a "[Magic Guide Spirit Card]," the spectators outside the arena were, after all, a bit shallow in their knowledge.
Not understanding the essential nature of the magic guide arts, most of them assumed it was Gatomon controlling the "Honedge."
For a Magic Guide Master, remotely controlling a Magic Sphere was already extremely difficult and came with no few restrictions, yet this Magic Guide Spirit could control a "flying sword" so smoothly and freely—in the eyes of ordinary people, this was utterly terrifying and inconceivable.
With a technique like that, what would it matter to take a man's head from a thousand miles away?
The legendary swordsmanship of Hero Bright was, in fact, not far off from this.
This kind of astonishment, paired with the fact that a first-year had cut down a popular third-year contestant in only three turns, was what gave rise to applause like a mountain-shaking, sea-surging roar.
This mere minute and a half was already enough to leave a sufficiently deep impression of this first-year on everyone.
Among it all, the deepest impression of all was left by this first-year's Magic Guide Spirit—"Gatomon"—and that sword whose name no one knew.
...
And for those who understood this area of knowledge, who knew that it truly was possible to transform a "weapon card" or an "armament card" into a "Magic Guide Spirit," the shock was even greater.
And if they understood a little more deeply still.
Those who could see that the "Honedge" was a "Holy Sword"—they were positively horrified!
Alvit, at last, was moved.
Originally, she had accepted the matter of her precious darling being able to forge a "Holy Sword" with an attitude of simple delight.
Even when she later discovered that "Leomon" possessed "Hero Aptitude," she hadn't been overly surprised.
But in this duel, from the very moment Gatomon gripped the "Holy Sword," her expression changed.
Gatomon's "Hero Aptitude" was restrained and profound; before it ever came into contact with the "Holy Sword," it had not revealed itself in the slightest.
And so, although Alvit liked this Magic Guide Spirit very much, she had never imagined that it, too, possessed "Hero Aptitude."
Yet once Gatomon came into contact with the "Holy Sword"—that "Hero Aptitude," even richer than "Leomon's," was thoroughly and completely exposed!
"It's actually a double hero!"
"And that Holy Sword..."
Alvit couldn't help sinking into deep thought.
Holy Swords were not as numerous as the stars, yet they were not few in number either.
Each Holy Sword had differences in its finer details.
The differences in quality that this caused were also very pronounced.
Over the long course of time, there had even appeared products such as "forged Holy Swords."
Hero candidates with sufficiently powerful "Hero Aptitude" could even directly use the "Holy Sword Spell" to simulate summoning a Holy Sword.
But judging from its current performance, the "Holy Sword" Magic Guide Card that her darling had forged was, in all likelihood, of the upper rank even among the many Holy Swords.
An upper-rank Holy Sword, plus a double hero!
It was hard to avoid having one's mind drawn to the word "fate."
Even though Alvit was not a believer in "fatalism."
She nonetheless could not help feeling worried over this.
She did not want Dark to fall into the mire of the future because of it.
As a "Saint," she possessed a long lifespan, able to grant her child a lifetime of shelter.
That was precisely why she so indulged the child.
Because no matter what the child did, she could always be his safety net.
And she had always firmly believed that her darling's heart was not bad in essence—he was just a little mischievous and willful.
But if, because of this, he were to be drawn into the whirlpool of fate known as "Hero"...
Alvit couldn't help recalling the sacrifice of Bright Gold.
That was not what she hoped for.
"It seems I'll have to do something."
She cradled the "Gatomon" model in the palm of her hand, her expression gradually turning grave.
...
Meanwhile, in the Free City.
City Lord Montielfali had likewise sensed Gatomon's "Hero Aptitude," and the mental shock it caused her was even greater than Alvit's.
Compared to the Fighting-attribute "Leomon," the Light-attribute "Gatomon" undoubtedly conformed better to people's common conception of a hero.
Since ancient times, true heroes had without a doubt always been those whose hearts inclined toward the light.
But what shocked her even more was that "Holy Sword"!
"What on earth is that 'Holy Sword'?"
"If the 'Holy Sword' can move on its own, then what's left for the hero to do?"
City Lord Montielfali abruptly turned to Cynthia and demanded: "Cynthia, do you really understand this student of yours?"
Cynthia's smile, however, was as serene as ever: "Suna, I would never go prying into a student's secrets."
"No wonder the Demon race could infiltrate the academy during the war..."
City Lord Montielfali grumbled inwardly, but did not say it aloud.
The existence of St. Marian's Academy held extraordinary significance, and Cynthia, as Principal, was both one of the chosen and one who had to shoulder and bear it.
In other words, if her sense of principle weren't this strong, she could never have been the Principal of St. Marian's Academy.
City Lord Montielfali knew she couldn't learn anything more from Cynthia's mouth, so she could only turn to face her daughter, hoping to give her some words of experienced guidance.
But Aurora turned to face her first, saying softly: "Mama, is this Dark Demon?"
City Lord Montielfali's voice instantly caught in her throat.
For a long while she could say nothing at all.
...
The conclusion of the main competition's first duel really had come too quickly.
Judy, who was in charge of hosting, had barely sat down to watch for a moment before she had to stand up again and step onto the stage.
Next, she would interview the victor of this match—Dark Demon.
But Dark was still up on the contestant platform at this moment.
After confirming that he had won, he had set about putting away his Magic Guide Cards.
But in this duel, he had used only five Magic Guide Cards in all, so he finished tidying up in but a moment.
He gathered mana at his fingertips and teased the Gatomon on the card face a little; only after Gatomon, thoroughly exasperated, turned around and pointed its rear at him, did he smilingly place his entire deck into his card pack.
By this time, Mike Owen across from him had also finished tidying up.
Dark looked up at him and found that, although Senior Owen had been rather worked up at the moment the victor was decided, after the duel ended he had quickly recovered his composure.
He had actually had few interactions with Mike Owen, and held no bad impression of him—at most, he found him quite interesting.
And after these brief three turns of dueling, he discovered that Senior Owen's strength was perhaps even a touch greater than he'd imagined.
That combination of the "Suspended Sword" plus the "Storm Blade" had truly dazzled him.
If not for his luck being good enough, and Senior Owen's lack of understanding of the "Honedge," he really couldn't say for certain whether he'd have been able to win.
After his line of sight met Mike Owen's, Dark pressed his hand onto the card table and said a single line: "You let me win."
Then he shut down the card table.
...
Mike Owen, his expression solemn, nodded toward him, then turned and walked down off the contestant platform.
Although he had been defeated, his footsteps as he descended the stairs were unexpectedly light.
Of course, he couldn't let others notice it...
This "all-out defeat" was, for him, perhaps truly a good thing.
"It's April now; nearly half this semester has already passed, so I should start preparing early for the end-of-term assessment... and relax a bit while I'm at it."
...
Dark walked down off the contestant platform, where the staff member in charge of leading the way was already waiting at the foot of the stairs.
The two exchanged nods, and the staff member said earnestly: "Next is the victor's interview segment. Judy will pick three standard questions to ask you. You may answer selectively—no need to be too formal."
Dark was taken aback for a moment, then smiled and said: "Thank you, Senior, I'll handle it well."
The staff member then patted his shoulder with satisfaction and said with a grin: "Good luck, I've got high hopes for you."
Dark gave a nod and said again: "Thank you."
Then he turned and walked toward the stage.
Only, as he turned, he happened to see that this senior seemed to have a model hanging at his waist.
"Wait, isn't that Gatomon?"
Dark's mind whirled, and his keen "business sense" instantly made him realize what was going on.
Whereupon he didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
"This senior—he couldn't be banking on the 'Gatomon' model going up in value, could he? Though it's true that Gatomon's performance was indeed quite eye-catching."
Dark shook his head and continued onward.
Before long, he had stepped onto the stage.
The host, Senior Judy, was already waiting for him on the stage, and now she addressed the audience, which had quieted down: "Ladies and gentlemen, now making his appearance is the victor of this duel—the first-year Noble House student, Dark Demon.
I know all of you must be very curious about him. As is customary, I'll select three questions to ask him, so as to satisfy everyone's expectations."
After saying this, Judy made room and beckoned to Dark: "Classmate Demon, please come over this way."
Dark then came to the center of the stage.
Judy's figure was of the rather tall type—even without shoes she was over one meter seventy.
Standing beside her, Dark did not appear tall.
But the contrast between people is not something set off by height alone.
With the two of them standing like this, nearly everyone's attention focused onto Dark.
Judy, at his side, could only be reduced to a foil.
After a little while had passed.
Judy made a show of taking out a small slip of paper, and reciting from the blank, writingless slip: "So then, the first question—Classmate Dark Demon, are you really the planner of this Easter Dueling Festival?"
The moment this question came out, the audience did indeed stir.
But Dark's gaze swept across them, and he smiled and said: "You can't quite put it that way. I merely participated in planning this Easter Dueling Festival."
Judy's gaze shifted, and she asked: "Then, what was your degree of involvement?"
Dark turned his head and said: "Excuse me, is this the second question?"
Judy was stunned for a moment, then covered her mouth and laughed softly: "Yes."
"That's good, then." Dark turned back to face the audience. "As for my degree of involvement, it was about ninety-nine point nine nine nine percent..."
As this string of "nines" came out, the originally astonished audience suddenly got the sense that this was a "joke."
Some people mulled it over to themselves and decided "that's indeed how it is"—for a first-year to be able to participate in planning an event of this scale was already quite impressive.
How could it all have been planned by him?
Still, who'd have thought this handsome first-year boy was rather humorous?
But up on the stage, Judy's expression stiffened slightly, and for a moment she actually didn't know how to ask the next question.
Dark glanced at her, then simply took the microphone and said: "Though the truth of the matter is a bit off, it's roughly that much."
Then he stuffed the microphone back into Senior Judy's hand, placed his hand horizontally before his belly, gave a slight bow toward the audience, stepped back two paces, then turned and withdrew from the stage—elegant and crisp.
And it was only then that Judy abruptly realized: from start to finish, Dark Demon had clearly only answered a single question!
The corner of her mouth twitched, but it wouldn't do to flare up on stage, so she could only keep smiling as she dealt with the audience.
...
While Judy was busy handling the audience, Dark Demon, walking down off the stage with his back to the spectator seats, wore a subtly changed expression.
The instant he stepped off stage, he quickly picked up his pace.
The next match would pick two contestants from the upper-year group to face off.
Only after that would it again be the lower-year group's turn.
The two groups would proceed in alternation, and only after completing the round of eight-into-four would they enter the main competition's second round, four-into-two.
And the first round of eight-into-four would not be completed all at once.
Generally speaking, a total of four matches would be held, two for each of the upper and lower year groups, and then they would move into the midday break.
The break would last nearly one to two hours, to allow the spectators to dine in the side halls.
During this period, the academy had also prepared some programs, though most were elegant musical performances, at most with some magic guide projections added for embellishment.
After one to two hours, the main competition would resume, continuing until the champion was decided.
Therefore, before the next round of matches began, Dark had a great deal of time.
He entered the contestants' passage from the rear of the stage, then turned off at a fork and quickly made his way to the ring zone.
But he did not go straight to find Rose and Diana, nor go to strike up a conversation with Senior Pandora; instead he headed straight for a single spot—one he had locked onto from the stage!
But several minutes later, after finally squeezing his way into that spot, he found that the woman with the long orange-red hair, who should have been sitting there, had long since vanished.
This made him knit his brows, and he simply sat down in that very spot.
But that woman who had already "slipped away" could not, of course, possibly return.
...
And at a seat somewhat further off, Professor Medea Bartholomew was sitting together with the other professors, and right beside her was Professor Silf!
Medea was still in her everyday attire today, but had been ordered to drape a coat over herself.
While complaining about Professor Silf's conservatism, she also obediently put on an overcoat, wrapping her overly fierce figure within the coat.
Given her temperament, she would of course never have come of her own accord to huddle together with this bunch of "stuffy" professors.
But Professor Sarah Silf had knocked on her dormitory door first thing in the morning, extending an invitation that brooked no refusal.
Professor Silf could be said to be the professor she was most familiar with in this academy, and she had no reason to refuse her invitation.
Especially given the look in Professor Silf's eyes at the time, which concealed a kind of teasing she knew all too well.
So Medea had no choice but to accept Silf's invitation and obediently sit here.
The agony of being unable to spectate on the gossip truly left her unable to sit still.
...
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