I had a feeling that it was about time for my turn, and when I opened my eyes to check, as I thought the previous match seemed like it was about to end.
One of the men collapsed, and the referee shouted out the name of the winner.
ā¦ā¦though there wasnāt any audience, so there werenāt any cheers, the winner stood triumphantly.
As I observed the scene, my name, as well as the name of my opponent, were called out. I entered the arena.
Standing before my eyes was a large man.
On top of having muscles forged out of training that gave off an overwhelming presence, he was a big man that was one or two times my size.
I drew out my practice blade, a sword with a dulled edge.
Though his opponent was a young girl like myself, my opponent showed no signs of making light of me and similarly drew his sword.
ā¦ā¦as an opponent, he wasnāt lacking at all.
Together with the refereeās voice commencing the match, I began to move.
In power, I was overwhelmingly disadvantaged.
It was clear just by looking at us.
In other words, if I were to take his sword head-on, Iād instantly be sent flying.
However, even if I simply let that fact intimidate me, I wouldnāt be able to do anything about it.
In any case, up until now I had continued training with my father, whose power far surpassed my own.
I had long learned that it was impossible for a girl like me to challenge a man through raw strength.
That being the case, what should I do?
ā¦ā¦fight them with speed.
That too, was one way of dealing with it.
However, I used a different method.
As my opponent swung his sword downwards, I took up a stance as though I were going to receive his sword.
For a moment, a rather surprised expression crossed my opponentās face, but it soon disappeared as he used all his strength to swing his sword.
Without a single sign of going easy on me, it was a swift and heavy sword.
I brought my sword forward, and with good timing, swung it.
ā¦ā¦in order to redirect my opponentās power.
āUwahā¦ā¦!ā
As his sword flowed against mine, my opponentās stance collapsed. Entering his bosom, I swung my sword to beat him down.
And then, I placed my sword on my opponentās neck as he lay face-down upon the ground.
āā¦ā¦thatās it! The winner, Melly!!ā
Together with the refereeās voice, I sheathed my sword.
Since mother passed away, it has already been 3 years.
Whether it has passed quickly or not, I donāt know.
But every day, I have been polishing my sword like this.