If You Win, Your Prize Is The Princess

Sylia was a swordswoman. She was a mercenary who did not belong to any country, she was unable to lead a stable life in many places.

“Tsu!” she grunted.

From a straddle stance, she takes a step forward and twists her body, horizontally swinging a sword larger than she was.

“Guah!!”

The man before her decided he couldn’t dodge the attack and used his sword to block it, but he couldn’t completely stop the blow, and after he flew off and smashed into a wall, he stopped moving.

“Winner, Fighter Sylia!” the referee declared.

The venue cried foul. Sylia left the hostile crowds then and there, perhaps because she was annoyed.

“Hey, Missy. Is it already the finals?” a large man asked.

“It looks like it, doesn’t it?” Sylia replied.

They were having a simple meal of bread and soup in the arena’s dining hall. It was late at night, and only the dining hall staff, Sylia, and the large man were around.

Sylia doesn’t even know his name but he’s been involved with her since she arrived here. She thought he was a persistent guy aiming to face Syria in the fighting tournament, but she couldn’t take him as a serious threat after he gave her some intel and killed time with boring small talk.

“Speaking of which, how many times have you entered this competition?” the large man asked.

“As far as I can remember, more than 5 times,” Sylia replied. “I’ll join as many times as I need, I want the money. I want some stability in my life, even just a little bit.”

“So it’s money after all?” the man said. “I’m sure you’ll earn a lot if you win, but… I’ll be honest, it’s not looking good, Missy.”

“…? You don’t think I’ll win?” Sylia asked.

“Yeah, you probably won’t win,” the man replied.

He had a bitter expression but it didn’t seem to have anything to do with Sylia. He never appeared in the area and was apparently the manager of the place. Thanks to his advice since Sylia’s first time entering this competition, she was able to carve out a decent place for herself, so she was grateful to him.

“Are you still going to be facing your next opponent, no matter how strong they are?” the man asked.

“Can you remind me who they are again?” Sylia asked.

The man always told Sylia something about her opponents ahead of time. For example, if they have a hidden knife or if they were hiding the fact that they could use magic, the kind of information that, to be honest, was priceless. Thanks to that intel, Sylia was able to calmly deal with what should have been her opponents’ trump cards.

And even tonight, ahead of the finals, he seems to be giving her a hint.

“Your opponent is one of the knights of this country,” the man said. “More importantly, he’s quite capable. He doesn’t do anything cowardly, he’s just pure strength.”

“…….”

Sylia frowns. She’s been fighting as a mercenary in one country or another, and she’s seen numerous cowardly tactics. The most commonplace were numbing agents, hostages, waiting till she was asleep, traps, betrayals, and some more memorable incidents. However, the one that gave her the most grief was a skilled opponent.

A cowardly opponent could be dealt with with cowardly tactics in turn. It was the spirit of an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. However, with an opponent who wanted a serious match, there was no choice but to face them head-on. Sylia was confident in her odds in a clash like that but she wasn’t certain of her victory.

Who will come out on top? Sylia will have to find out firsthand.

“Well, it is the finals, so I’ll make a profit on my own with my bet,” the man said.

“… Did you bet on my fight?” Sylia asked.

“Of course I did!” the man’s face proudly says.

“Even though only men compete, Missy, if a little gir…” the man started, “sorry, if a petite lady like you participates, it’s going to be exciting.”

The moment Sylia heard the word “little”, the man noticed the overwhelming murderous aura radiating from her, so he quickly changed his phrasing. Though, he had to wonder if the phrase “petite lady” was an acceptable substitute.

On the other hand, Sylia couldn’t deny she looked the part. She was about 150 centimeters tall 1, her rough black hair was cut short to keep it from getting in the way, and though she has some signs of physical training, she looks so childish because she grew up poor. She was chronically malnourished. She looked even smaller relative to the giant sword she carried around on her back.

“The other men bet on your opponent because they think you can’t win,” the man said. “But I’m betting on you because I can tell your strength at a glance. Thanks to you, it’ll all be smooth sailing.”

At those words, Sylia becomes a little wary. In brief, those who can see strength in others are also often strong themselves. Just like how people who are alike can get along well with each other, the more powerful you are, the better your ability to see it in others.

As if reading her mind, the man waved his hand and defused the tension.

“I used to be a mercenary,” he said. “I just chose to settle down in this country. So when I see a strong person, I remember and ache for my old days.”

“I see…” Sylia said. “Is that how it is?”

Afterward, she lifts her tray with her empty plates.

“I’ll be heading off now,” she said.

“Seems you want as fair of a challenge as possible,” the man said.

He nodded like he was convinced of something. Then, he waved at the cafeteria staff and made some sort of signal. It seemed like he was going to eat now.

As a staff member hurried over, Syria headed to a simple cash register.

“Three silver coins,” she said.

As Sylia said those words, she saw the cashier look past her and at the man from earlier.

“It seems that I’m going to be that man’s payday, so please let me pay his bill,” Sylia continued.

As the man heard that, he turns to look, a bit surprised.

“… Heeey, Missy,” he said. “Those are some strange words I just heard.”

Sylia said it loud enough for him to hear it.

“You’re going to make a fortune with me, so please let me do this much,” Sylia said.

She said it matter-of-factly. She thought the man would get angry. However:

“Kuh… kukuh… fuhahahaha!” the man roared. “I see, it all makes sense! Alright, I’ll let you pay my bill!”

“Thank you very much,” Sylia said.

For the moment, she bowed as was polite. The man replied with a wave. It was implied it was time for her to go.

The cashier seemed satisfied with that arrangement and after they disappeared back into the kitchen, Sylia headed to the entrance to leave. Then, she was stopped at the entrance.

“By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Sylia said.

“Huh?” the man went.

The cafeteria was fairly large but your voice would echo if it was empty. The man had a suspicious look on his face as he turned to look at Sylia.

“Which one of us are you betting on tomorrow?” Sylia asked.

“The winner,” the man replied.

He paused for a moment.

“The knight of this country! Gahahaha!”

“… Fufu,” Sylia chuckled.

She left the dining room and the man to his food. Honestly, she thought he was the kind of opponent she least wanted to face.

Footnotes

4’9 feet