Akashic Records of the Bastard Child Engaged to a Goddess



Holy Sword Tournament Arc

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(POV: Fanatio)

Fanatio Pendragon.

That is my name.

The daughter of Gal Pendragon, the renowned Sword King of the Shield Kingdom.

Our family's reputation stems from being the defenders of the Shield Kingdom's inhabitants, earning us the nickname "shield" among the populace.

For generations, there has always been a direct descendant of the Hero God, Saint Melcius, within our family, and my brother, Velzar Pendragon, is one.

He awakened his source, becoming a member of the 10 Battle Gods of Akaza, holding the coveted third seat.

Velzar's exceptional power was unrivaled and even deemed the Holy Sword Festival beneath his interest.

However, me, who aspired to escape my brother's shadow, such a person rendered me nothing more than the unremarkable second child of the Sword King.

Despite this, I prayed that my performance in the upcoming tournament would change my circumstances.

With everything in me, I hoped to earn the respect of others based on my own accord rather than heritage.

I wanted to become my own person.

...

I entered Whiterune, the grand coliseum where this prestigious tournament was to take place.

The sheer scale of the arena was impressive. However, not the best I'd seen.

Alongside the coliseum was the registration area for the contestants, and amidst the numerous contestants present, one caught my attention - a person dressed in black.

It was an unconventional outfit for a tournament like this, but they wore it with confidence nonetheless.

As I approached them, they seemed unbothered and engrossed in a book they were reading.

I cleared my throat, catching their attention.

"Excuse me, miss," I said, "I'm sorry to interrupt, but if I may interject, it would be foolish to participate in a tournament like this wearing no armor."

Without looking up from their book, the person spoke in a calm yet firm voice, "Is that so?"

"Yes," I replied, hoping to make a point. "Your life would be at risk in the battles to come, and most of the other contestants are probably stronger than you. Only an amateur would dress this way."

They let out a sigh before speaking up, their voice a tad bit muffled by the mask they wore.

"First of all, I'm not a girl," they said, causing me to freeze in shock. "If you couldn't notice that, then maybe you're the amateur here. Secondly, I appreciate your concern, but I have my own reasons for wearing this outfit."

I was taken aback by their response, but his confidence was undeterred.

"That was uncalled for," I retorted.

The masked boy simply shrugged and went back to reading his book.

"You know I'm trying to help you here," I said, hoping to make amends.

"I agree that it's inappropriate for me to call you an amateur... but shouldn't that go both ways?" he replied coolly.

I was at a loss for words, but before I could say anything else, a loud voice interrupted us.

A burly man with a scar on his head and armor all over his body strode towards us.

His comrades trailed behind him, guffawing at their leader's jokes.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" the man named Ress said, addressing the masked boy.

"Going to a ball, are we? You're dressed all fancy!" His cronies laughed at the jibe, but the masked boy didn't even flinch.

He just turned a page in his book, the sound echoing through the library.

"There's no need for this," I said, trying to intervene.

But he was having none of it.

"My name is Ress, a Rank B adventurer... and honestly, this kid has no place here. It would be an insult to strong people like me," he said, nodding to his minions.

They all chimed in agreement, causing a stir among the people.

But just when it seemed like all was lost, the masked boy closed his book and stood up.

His movements were graceful, as if he had rehearsed them a million times.

"Your name's Ress, right?" he said in a voice that was deceptively calm. "Would you please... shut up?"

It was a simple, yet stunning retort that left everyone gobsmacked.

The area was silent, the only sound being the masked boy's footsteps as he walked away.

Ress and his squad were left with their mouths agape.

"Are you gonna let him talk to you like that Ress?"

Ress was frustrated for a moment but then regained his composure and gruffly told his comrade "Shut up."

His pupils darted to the corner of his eye, fixated on the masked boy leaving, and then his arm moved in a blur, drawing his greatsword at lightning speed.

"You bastard!" (Ress)

The whistling sound of air rushing by was deafening as Ress held the sword tightly with both hands before sprinting towards the masked boy.

"Watch out!" I shouted.

Ress' blade was already coming down.

But then...

The unexpected happened.

The masked boy drew out his thin sword so quickly, even I couldn't believe my eyes.

With a sharp ringing noise, the masked boy's sword collided with Ress' greatsword, and the latter snapped in two, as if it were made of glass.

A small cut appeared as blood trickled down Ress' cheek.

There was a moment of stunned silence as everyone watched in disbelief.

How could a sword that thin destroy a greatsword?

Ress' comrades rushed to check on him as the masked boy silently walked away.

"What the hell was that?" Ress exclaimed, a mixture of pain and rage in his voice.

"Did he use some kind of skill?" His comrades had no answers.

They were all just as bewildered as their leader.

This boy... beneath his delicate exterior, lay strength.

As I watched the crowd fade away behind me, I knew I had to catch up to the masked boy.

I sprinted until I finally caught up to him.

"Hey, wait up!" I shouted, trying to sound as friendly as possible.

The masked boy stopped and turned around to face me, his eyes scanning me from head to toe.

"What do you want?" he asked, his tone laced with suspicion.

"I just want to talk to you," I said, trying to smile confidently. "I'm curious, what's your name?"

The masked boy raised an eyebrow.

"If you're going to ask for someone's name, isn't it polite to introduce yourself first?" he retorted.

I rolled my eyes. "My name is Fanatio Venzeia Pendragon," I said, trying to keep my patience in check. "And you are?"

The masked boy hesitated for a moment before responding.

"Black," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

I smiled, "Nice to meet you, Black."