Bermuda

"Please read through it once and sign in the blank here. Or, since there isn’t much time left, may I quickly explain the procedure?"

A member standing beside him tapped the signature line with a fingertip as he spoke. Having stared at the league pamphlet for five days straight, Leonardo had memorized most of the overview. Even if he read the outline again now nothing would change, yet he let his eyes run over the black letters out of habit—the last psychological barrier, perhaps.

Leonardo shifted his gaze to the waiting member and nodded. It was less that he needed an explanation than that he wanted to buy time inwardly.

Without a trace of annoyance, the member flipped the desk calendar on the table and began to explain.

"There are several tests before the preliminaries. Please check the dates carefully and mark the days you can participate. If you pass the tests your name goes on the preliminary bracket and you won’t be able to choose dates after that. Ah, but don’t worry — you’ll receive the participation prize even if you only take the tests."

Because the league charged admission to spectators, they needed to present matches worth the entrance fee. In other words, they would filter out matches that were nothing more than neighborhood thugs brawling. That didn’t mean they intended to block participation; rather, through pre-prelim tests they would select those with sufficiently interesting skills.

The tests ranged from five to seven items. Mostly basic physical fitness events; the exact evaluation criteria would be disclosed on the day. If you advanced to the preliminaries you might inevitably be exposed to the audience, so you must sign a consent form for that, the member added cautiously.

Seeing how tightly wrapped the applicant was, the member assumed he wished to avoid exposure.

As the member had guessed, that point bothered Leonardo most; he hesitated, then spoke.

"Um, during the matches can I cover my face with a hat or mask? ...I think I heard that was allowed."

"Ah, yes. Of course! The Council, which organizes the league, fundamentally protects participants’ identities."

Some contestants were highly skilled yet uncomfortable appearing in public, so covering identifying features like the face or scars on the hands was permissible. That made using a pseudonym possible as well.

Just as he felt relieved, the member continued the explanation.

"However, the participant must register in person, and to prevent proxy appearances we will verify identity right before each match. It wasn’t always this cumbersome, but about five years ago two people who looked similar took turns competing and were discovered. Please view this as a policy to ensure a fair league and cooperate."

Humans will find loopholes whenever regulation is lax. Those two had gone to great lengths.

Having to reveal his face before every match made him uncomfortable, but it was only the Council that needed to check him. Leonardo answered with a nod.

"To add briefly, hoods, hats, gloves, and accessories are allowed, but clothing that opposes imperial or Council ideology, or apparel bearing obscene or offensive slogans, is restricted. Also, items with magical functions or weapons that directly affect performance are limited to one per person."

Weapons?

"Swords, axes, hammers, maces — bladed weapons. Teleportation devices, staves, amulets, and amplifiers are also permitted. However, weapons and magic tools will have their stats verified during the pre-prelim tests and balance adjustments may be applied, which can affect the bracket. Ah, but artifacts are not allowed into matches, you know that? There are so many exceptions for items that you should read the prohibited items list later for details."

He ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ had never considered using weapons, so the rule felt radical. The pamphlet had said "one supplementary item for the match excluding clothing," so he had only thought of masks or dark glasses to hide his face.

But the Council-run league was known to include many non-magic users as participants. Though spellcasters would generally have the advantage, the matches were not structured so that magic alone decided victory.

People’s experiences and combat abilities varied; there were certainly those who trained their bodies to extremes and were called strong without magic. Add weapon skill to that, and even a mage’s victory would be hard to predict.

Knowing the Council sold betting slips, he assumed these rules aimed at match variety; seeing them as aimed toward fairness made them understandable.

Unlike him, born with strong magic, most people were constantly striving to exceed their limits. They too deserved chances to climb by adding extra effort.

He imagined Agrizendro would say that.

"Yes, understood."

Leonardo replied and quickly skimmed the remaining overview.

Preliminaries could be not only individual matches but also team matches arranged to balance participants and abilities. Some might call that unfair, but because many advanced from preliminaries they needed a method to eliminate large numbers at once.

"If you safely pass the preliminaries, you’ll enter the final 32 bracket, which switches to one-on-one elimination. The finals relax restrictions on rules and weapon use compared to preliminaries, so the chance of injury is much higher. In severe cases participants may suffer fatal injuries."

"Fatal?"

"Yes. Of course the Council always has medical teams on standby for immediate response. If either participant is judged to have suffered a fatal injury the match will be stopped immediately, and continuation will be decided based on the participant’s condition, recovery time, and personal wishes."

That explained why the consent forms were densely filled with fine print. The member emphasized that although no deaths had occurred in nearly twenty years of hosting, they insisted on consent to warn and inform participants of risks.

Some people gave up and left because of the word "death." Leonardo was a little surprised but had no qualms about that point.

Honestly, I worry I’m the one who’ll kill someone.

"The consent will be reconfirmed just before the finals, so you can withdraw and forfeit then if you change your mind. Ah, but from the semifinals onward, if someone withdraws voluntarily while still combat-capable the entire league will be suspended, so please be cautious."

"Suspended just for a withdrawal?"

"Yes. Although surveillance is maintained throughout the league, from the finals onward there are often attempts to influence outcomes by approaching other participants. Because betting revenue is involved, financial issues are entangled, and the organizers keep a close watch."

The member added that withdrawals were rare from the semifinals onward since stakes and resolve were high.

"Please consider this a minimal device to prevent illicit deals. Well, I haven’t explained everything, but have you grasped the main points?"

His speech accelerated and he glanced at his wristwatch. Leonardo’s eyes followed it. Only five minutes remained until registration closed.

Just then another applicant, running and out of breath, slapped a prefilled application and consent forms onto the table. Another member approached and collected the submitted papers. Listening to them, that applicant had apparently also hesitated until the last moment.

Leonardo’s resolve wavered and he gripped the pen in his hand. He still hadn’t decided. Honestly, he was afraid.

Even if he covered his face during matches, unexpected events could arise in combat. And since identity verification occurred right before matches, he couldn’t use appearance-altering magic at that point. Even if he somehow changed his face within the arena, could a high-level glamour hold firm before thousands of spectators during a fierce fight?

But the member’s last explanation, put another way, meant he could freely withdraw in matches below the semifinals. If problems arose he could stop midway. That seemed better than closing the path from the start.

"Now, your identification please... and could you briefly show your face?"

The member peered under the hat as the applicant stood like a rooted stone. Most people filled the application lightly because they’d likely be eliminated before the preliminaries. But this applicant looked as if marching into a battlefield, cautious and troubled. His expression, visible only by his eyes, was resolute.

Having made up his mind, Leonardo let the pen he held float in the air. The pen drifted down to the table and then scrawled his signature across the consent form.

Simultaneously he produced his ID from an inner pocket. It was the registration card the Minister had personally handed him before.

He opened the blue cover, handed it to the member, and removed the hat he had pressed down. He pulled the turtleneck he’d raised over his nose further down to his chin.

The members who had been watching him widened their eyes.

At that moment, behind the revealed blond beauty, festive New Year fireworks embroidered the evening sky.