The icy blade of Enea's katana stopped exactly one centimeter from Heve's throat.
A deep sigh of disappointment escaped the mysterious adventurer's lips.
"Too bad. I was sure this fight was about to become even more entertaining, but I did promise…" Enea muttered before making the katana disappear from his hand.
"The winner of this match is Enea Draghi!" Pinusal announced.
Enea then looked Heve directly in the eyes, a slightly irritated expression appearing on his face.
"But didn't you say that giving up before even trying to do something was illogical?"
The elf calmly reached up and finally removed the ice katana that had been piercing her right eye since near the beginning of the match.
Her usual completely emotionless gaze shifted into something that might have indicated—although only barely—a small amount of confusion.
"I did try," Heve replied in her usual mechanical, monotonous voice. "And through that attempt, I determined that defeating you is logically impossible for me under my current conditions."
She began listing the reasons as though she were presenting the results of an experiment.
"Your speed is so far superior to mine that, if you wished, you could dodge every attack I attempted. You are clearly immune to fire-based attacks, which represent my main alternative to physical attacks. And even if you deliberately choose not to dodge, you possess some kind of barrier capable of protecting you from even my strongest strikes."
Heve paused for only a moment.
"Therefore, continuing to fight an opponent I am now virtually certain I cannot defeat would be an illogical waste of time. I could instead spend that same time doing something useful, such as assisting the medical team."
Enea stared at her for a second before sighing again.
"You're right. You really don't seem like the type who enjoys fighting just for the sake of it," he admitted. "Sorry for making you waste valuable time. If I'd known you'd see things this way, I could've ended the match much sooner."
There was still a hint of irritation in his voice, but his regret seemed completely sincere.
"I won't waste any more of your time, then. Go ahead."
Heve looked at him with her usual neutral expression.
"No, Mr. Enea. Before I return to the infirmary, there's something I would like to ask you."
One of Enea's eyes widened slightly with curiosity.
"Well… what are you waiting for? Speak. Though I can't promise I'll actually be able—or willing—to answer."
"You aren't human, are you?" Heve asked bluntly.
The excited, unsettling smirk Enea had worn for most of their fight immediately returned.
Then, almost singing the question, he replied,
"What makes you think that?"
"I'm getting sick of all this bullshit! Caesar, is that boy actually human?!" Aislyra suddenly demanded, glaring directly at the Hero.
Everyone inside the cabin turned toward the queen's bodyguard.
Caesar remained perfectly calm.
"I'm sorry, Lady Aislyra, but I really don't think I'm the right person to answer that question," he replied eloquently. "As I've already explained, I know very little about Enea. I only met him around three months ago."
He briefly looked back toward the arena.
"But more importantly, from my perspective, practically every human capable of using magic in this world is already extremely different from the humans I knew in my original world. And I can't even use myself as a proper reference anymore, because technically speaking, this body isn't human either."
Aislyra snorted at the Hero's answer.
Caesar then placed a hand against his chin.
"But if you're willing to settle for my personal opinion regarding his spirit, I can give you that much. Throughout my life, I've seen and interacted with an enormous number of different human beings."
"Go ahead, at least it's better than nothing..." Aislyra muttered.
Caesar looked directly into her eyes.
His gaze was so calm and sincere that it was difficult to imagine him lying about what he was about to say.
"This is only my personal impression, so I obviously can't guarantee that it is completely correct," Caesar began. "But Enea's spirit—for better or worse—seems unquestionably human to me."
He paused.
"Though I would say it belongs to a human who lived during a period extremely different from my own."
His voice remained gentle yet authoritative.
For several seconds after hearing those words, Aislyra continued staring intensely into Caesar's eyes, clearly searching for some hidden meaning.
But Caesar never lost his regal composure.
"Aislyra," Sequoria finally said to her daughter.
Her tone carried a very obvious message.
That's enough.
Aislyra released another heavy sigh.
"Fine, whatever. Even so, I still have the feeling you haven't told me everything you know…"
Then a confident smirk appeared on her face.
"I suppose I'll just have to uncover the truth personally during my match—assuming that boy manages to keep winning until then."
She slammed one fist into her open palm before loudly cracking her knuckles.
Lucas stared at his "younger" sister.
'My little sister, sometimes you really do look like some high-ranking henchman working for an evil organization…'
Aislyra noticed him staring and responded with a confused expression.
But Lucas's attention soon returned to Enea.
More specifically, his eyes settled on the headphones still hanging around the adventurer's neck.
Caesar's words immediately echoed through his mind.
"A human who lived during a period extremely different from my own."
Of course, Caesar might simply have meant this world.
After all, this world was undeniably very different from Ancient Rome. In many ways, it resembled something closer to the Middle Ages, although at the same time, countless things made that comparison inaccurate as well.
But there was something else bothering Lucas.
Maybe it was Enea's clothing, which looked incredibly modern compared with almost everything Lucas had seen in this world. Maybe it was his headphones. Maybe it was simply the way he spoke.
Whatever the reason, the longer Lucas watched him, the stronger his suspicion became that Enea came from a period far closer to Lucas's own era than Caesar's.
Back in the arena, Heve began explaining her reasoning.
"I possess a great ability to sense mana when I'm extremely close to another person. Because of that, I was able to determine that, whenever I was close enough to you during our match, you weren't actively using any spells, nor did it appear that you already had one active."
Her voice sounded almost as if she were reading directly from a research report.
"I also possess extensive knowledge of human anatomy. No matter how much a normal human trains, without some form of physical enhancement magic, reaching the speeds you displayed throughout this match should be physically impossible."
There was, however, one detail Heve deliberately left unspoken. The most illogical possibility of all.
That Enea might somehow be creating ice without using mana. As far as Heve knew, no species in the world was capable of such a thing. The implications would be enormous. Potentially enough to overturn fundamental assumptions about this world itself.
However, Heve had no conclusive evidence. Whenever Enea had created his ice, she had always been too far away for her highly specialized mana sensitivity to detect what he was doing. And if Heve truly intended to remain faithful to logic, she couldn't present such an extraordinary possibility without evidence.
She would need considerably more research first.
Enea's smirk remained firmly in place.
"I see… But you know there are plenty of methods in this world for concealing mana, right?" he asked. "Don't you think I could simply be using one of those methods, and that's why you can't sense anything?"
A faint trace of sarcasm entered his voice.
"Logically, I considered that possibility as well," Heve replied immediately. "However, based on my observations throughout our encounter, it didn't appear that you were using any such technique."
Her expression didn't change in the slightest.
"And the fact that you now seem to be deliberately avoiding my original question does not strengthen your argument."
Then she added professionally,
"Of course, you are completely free to tell me that you simply don't wish to answer. As a doctor, I fully understand the importance of respecting another person's privacy."
There wasn't even the slightest hint of sarcasm or hostility in Heve's voice.
Enea's smirk softened slightly until it resembled something closer to a smile, although the obvious excitement in his expression remained.
"Well, our fight entertained me quite a bit, even if it didn't last especially long," he said. "It's always enjoyable fighting someone who can regenerate, especially when their regeneration is as absurdly effective as yours, Minister Heve."
His smile widened.
"So I suppose I can at least give you half an answer."
Then, with a smug expression, Enea said,
"For a fairly long period of my life, I was definitely a completely normal human being."
He paused deliberately.
"And now I might still be one…"
His grin widened.
"Or maybe I'm not."
Heve silently stared at him.
Enea then reached into the pocket of his sweatshirt and pulled out a small glass vial containing a dark red liquid.
"Consider this a bonus."
He casually tossed the vial toward Heve.
She caught it and immediately began examining the liquid inside.
"This is…"
"Exactly. My blood," Enea confirmed.
He turned toward one of the arena exits.
"I don't know whether you currently have the means to analyze it properly, but if you do, you might be able to determine whether I'm human or not."
Then he glanced back at her.
"But that isn't the only reason I'm giving it to you."
His expression became slightly more serious.
"If the medical team told you what condition Orlando was in when they collected him after our fight, then I imagine you can already guess the blood's actual purpose."
With that, Enea began walking toward the exit.
Heve remained where she was for several seconds, silently staring at the vial in her hand.
Then she, too, turned and left the arena.
"And with the end of our fifth match, we have officially passed the halfway point of this very first day of the tournament!" Chiacchera announced enthusiastically after returning to the center of the arena. "So, everyone, what did you think? Did you enjoy this match?!"
The crowd answered loudly.
"I'll admit, it was perhaps a little shorter than some of today's other battles, and the ending was definitely rather abrupt…"
She grinned theatrically.
"But I think we can all agree that it still managed to be extremely exciting!"
Then Chiacchera suddenly raised her voice even further.
"But there's no time to waste, because the match we're about to witness is undoubtedly one that many of you have been waiting for!"
She threw both arms outward dramatically.
"A CLASH BETWEEN AN OLD LEGEND AND A MODERN LEGEND!!!!!"
The audience erupted.
Chiacchera pointed dramatically toward one of the gates on the right side of the arena.
"Let's begin with our modern legend!"
The gate slowly opened.
An elf with hair as white as freshly fallen snow stepped into the arena.
"The captain of the Royal Knights! The strongest knight! And the present wielder of the legendary sword Mithaora…"
Chiacchera took a dramatic breath.
"FORTORE!!!"
The white-haired knight walked calmly toward the center of the arena.
Unlike during his previous appearance, there was no trace of boredom or disinterest on his face.
He looked completely serious.
Although he did pause exactly once to carefully examine Chiacchera's cleavage.
Probably because Fortore understood that, although his opponent in this match was a man, he still couldn't afford not to pay attention to him
Immediately afterward, Chiacchera pointed toward the opposite gate.
"And now it's time to welcome the old legend who shocked everyone by appearing here on the very first day of the tournament!"
The gate opened.
A large, heavily built old man with a thick beard emerged from behind it.
Resting across his back was his enormous weapon, still completely concealed beneath layers of bandages.
"He may no longer hold the position of number-one adventurer in Leore, but he still possesses the record for the greatest number of consecutive years spent as the highest-ranked adventurer in the Leore Guild!"
Chiacchera's voice echoed throughout the arena.
"He is the adventurer whom even the Below Zero Princess Aislyra has yet to defeat…"
She thrust one arm toward him.
"BRASTO!!!"
The elderly adventurer walked toward the center of the arena with a broad, optimistic smile on his face.