The calm voice rang out clearly in the surrounding silence.
When everyone looked toward its source, the last rays of the setting sun had just slipped past the Clock Tower in Earta Square, casting a dazzling glow over a figure in a black coat who held an orange cat and wore a gentle smile.
"Master!"
"Lord Credos!"
Different forms of address rose from the crowd.
Arthur set Pendragon on the ground.
"Wait here. Don't wander off!"
With those words, Arthur strode up onto the arena under everyone's watchful eyes.
Their internal organs were injured!
A single glance told Arthur how seriously Lord Dubois's nephew and Lord Bath's nephew were wounded.
With the conventional medical care available in this world, injuries like theirs left virtually no possibility beyond waiting to die.
But this world had a mystical side.
"Could you help me?"
Arthur looked at the doctor on the arena-a man wearing a cotton mask, cap, and gloves. Judging by the crow's-feet visible at the corners of his eyes, he was already middle-aged.
He did, however, have very dark circles under his eyes.
Being appointed the arena doctor meant he had a considerable reputation in South Los.
As for the dark circles?
Was he busy with his own affairs outside the Swordsmanship Tournament?
Just like Arthur himself!
Arthur was certain that if the Swordsmanship Tournament stretched to a week, he would have dark circles too.
Fortunately, tomorrow was the final championship match.
After that?
He planned to rest properly for two days, without setting foot outside-just sleeping.
"Of course. What do you need me to do?"
The doctor asked very politely.
"Hold the sword's hilt. As I slowly pour out the medicinal liquid, pull the sword out steadily and slowly. You absolutely mustn't go too fast or let your hand shake."