"His exact identity is still unknown. I don't have any matching information on hand."
The tall, thin swordsman wearing a White Fox mask shook his head. "However, a dockside beggar saw him get off a passing merchant ship the night before last."
"Running into that brat from the Sakuraba Family was probably just a coincidence. He likely only did it to fool that kid and obtain the qualifications to enter the competition."
"Some nameless nobody who doesn't know his place."
The luxuriously dressed middle-aged man picked up his coffee cup and gently rubbed its rim. "Then let him enjoy the same treatment as the brat from the Sakuraba Family. Stuff his group with more troublesome opponents."
"Yes, boss."
The line at the registration desk stretched on forever.
While waiting, Xia Nuo looked around idly. After a while, he suddenly noticed a curved wall on the north side of the plaza.
The emblems of the seven dojos were arranged in a row across the wall, but a large, jarring blank space occupied the very center.
Looking closely, it seemed to bear traces of having been painted over.
"That used to have the Sakuraba crest painted on it, right?"
"Yeah." Junichi nodded somberly. "There were actually two designs that got erased. One was the crest of our Sakuraba Dojo, and the other was the Kendo Guild's."
"The Kendo Guild? Was that founded by your father too?"
"Not entirely. More precisely, he founded it together with the masters of several other dojos. My father played a leading role, I suppose. Later, he was elected by vote to serve as the guild president."
Xia Nuo clicked his tongue. "Sounds like your father had quite a lot of prestige. Earlier, when you told me that the Sakuraba Dojo had been constantly suppressed and attacked after his death, I thought he must have angered everyone somehow."
"They probably felt that I was unworthy of the position after taking over as dojo master." Junichi gave a bitter smile.
"Well, there you go again. I told you not to keep beating yourself up for no reason. Get that through your head, kid! ...Right, speaking of which, you mentioned earlier that your father died in an accident five years ago?"
"Yeah. It was a shipwreck."
Junichi nodded slowly, a look of reminiscence appearing on his face. "It happened just a few days before the Kendo Tournament. There was a storm in the waters north of the island, and the guild received a distress signal saying that two ships carrying swordsmen who were coming to compete had capsized."
"My father happened to be working at the guild that day. He put down the Den Den Mushi and hurriedly led people over to help with the rescue. Several senior disciples from the Sakuraba Dojo went with him too, but... in the end, none of them came back."
Xia Nuo fell silent with him for a while.
"Your father was a good man." He sighed. "Unfortunately, on this vast sea, good people aren't necessarily rewarded."
"..." Junichi didn't know what to say. After a long pause, he spoke quietly. "Thank you."
Xia Nuo patted him on the back.
"By the way, there's something that seems rather strange when you think about it."
Junichi suddenly remembered something else and looked at the row of dojo emblems.
"When the guild still existed, there was a place where everyone could negotiate and discuss matters. The adults often argued back and forth, and when disciples from the dojos met on the street, they often refused to yield to each other and would issue challenges to compete for higher rankings."
"Yet after the guild disappeared, the Seven Great Dojos gradually began advancing and retreating as one, becoming as close as family. Take this new rule requiring participants to pay an entry fee, for example. As soon as rumors of it emerged among the public, it was immediately finalized and implemented. I've never heard of any disputes or objections."
The more he thought about it, the more confused he became. He smacked his head hard in frustration. "Ah~, I feel like my brain cells are about to burn out. Anyway, it's just really strange. None of it makes sense..."
As close as family?
Xia Nuo fell into thought. Suddenly, a jolt ran through the back of his head, as if he had sensed something. He whipped around and narrowed his eyes at the nearby café.
The entrance on the first floor was packed with people, yet the second-floor balcony was completely empty.
His sharp gaze swept up and down before finally locking onto a spot—the round table near the balcony railing, where two cups of coffee that had yet to cool still gave off wisps of steam.
"What is it?" Junichi asked curiously.
"Nothing."
Xia Nuo shook his head slightly and withdrew his gaze.
He looked toward the line ahead, which had already shrunk by more than half, and smiled.
"Let's not worry about that for now. We're almost at the draw for the groups. Hopefully, we won't run into each other too early. How about we make it to the finals together and take first and second place?"
"Yeah! Let's give it our all!"
Junichi clenched a fist and waved it. "And one more thing! Don't wear that face like you've already won the championship. When we really reach the finals, you still need to be careful. I won't lose as miserably as I did last time!"
The group assignments from the draw came out soon after.
Xia Nuo entered Group B, while Junichi was assigned to Group C.
According to the preliminary-round rules, they each had to fight five matches against swordsmen from Groups A and D. Only those who won all their matches could be the first to advance to the top eight.
"Ha, that means we won't have to run into each other during the entire preliminary round."
Junichi's mood grew even better as he held up his draw slip and began whistling.
"Then, Mr. Xia Nuo, I'll head over to Group C. See you at noon?"
"Mm, go ahead. I'll finish my matches as quickly as possible and come find you."
After watching Junichi leave, Xia Nuo glanced at the café once more before heading toward the competition area assigned to him.
By then, most of the wooden platforms scattered around the plaza already had people standing on them, though their progress varied.
Some had only just begun their matches, while others had already finished and gone down to rest.
After all, there were simply too many swordsmen taking part in the preliminary round. This was the most efficient arrangement.
"Preliminary Round, AB Division, Match Seven! Contestant 120, Xia Nuo, versus Contestant 28, Sika!"
Quite a few spectators immediately gathered around the wooden platform in the corner. As the staff member's announcement ended, the two contestants took their positions at opposite ends of the platform.
Sika was a burly, bald man standing roughly two meters and thirty centimeters tall.
The bamboo sword in his hand was clearly a size larger than normal. Its unusual thickness and length both drew attention.
"You can choose different types when buying a bamboo sword?"
Xia Nuo was somewhat surprised.
"You don't even know that? Ha, what an idiot!"
Bald Sika laughed wildly. "Who knows where you came from, little fledgling? You ran into your lord Sika in the very first round. Tough luck."
"But don't worry. I won't let you take too many blows. Your lord Sika here is a kind-hearted good man. I'll end your suffering as quickly as possible!"
"You two, remember the rules! You may only attack each other with your bamboo swords. Direct contact with your hands or feet is forbidden. Whoever is knocked off the wooden platform loses, while the opponent wins immediately and advances to the next round! Is that clear?"
Both sides nodded.
"Good, then I announce..." The referee suddenly raised a hand. "The match officially begins!"
The instant his voice fell.
Bang!
A dull, thunderous smack rang out.
Accompanied by a scream, the enormous figure over two meters tall flew straight out and crashed onto the ground several meters away.
"Well, what a coincidence. I'm a good man too."
The calm voice came from the wooden platform.
The surrounding spectators fell utterly silent. The referee stared blankly, his hand still suspended in midair, not yet having had time to swing down.
Xia Nuo slid the bamboo sword back into his belt and turned toward the referee, who had frozen like a statue. He gave him a polite smile.
"Sorry, I'm in a hurry. May we start the next match right away?"