Revitalization had never come in such ample supply. Kyoya shook his head, effectively clearing it, and brought his fists up again. After a bit of shuffling and shadowboxing, he threw another punch.

This time, though, his fist's collision with the dummy created a small, circular impression in its center. The group didn't instruct him further, so he did it again...

And again...

And again after that, until after the fifth hit, from which cracks and dents in the puppet's form began to show.

Puzzlement was one thing the boy had never expected to see on a face as wizened as Altar's. He and Alexandria both seemed fixated on his display, with Lyric shooting the boy a confident grin. "What can I say? Guy's got flair."

"Miss Seraphim..." Altar tugged at his collar. "I don't think 'flair' does this show of force quite enough justice..."

The Seraph chuckled in reply.

"Oh, believe me, I know." She then took a look at the Miscreant, her challenger's glare even further bolstering whatever surge of strength had come about him. "How's about you use your Extension Effect and wrap this thing up? I'll want to get a swing or two in before long."

Finally breaking his silent streak, Kyoya laughed along.

"Sure thing, I won't hold you up any longer, then." He took a few steps back, lining himself up perfectly with the dummy's center mass. One round of shadowboxing led to another, until a deep breath brought about the end of this particular puppet's campaign. "Affinity Extension: Critical Outburst!"

The slug brought with it his unmistakable explosion of azure energies, as the magic that protected his target shattered entirely. Glistening silver prisms erupted from the dummy, which then splintered and broke off its stand, blasting a line through its unprotected brethren and leaving a small blemish in their formation.

Following a mutual silence, the King carried the duty of resuming conversation.

"Well... I certainly found that to be staggering. Our friend Number 32 probably felt the worst of it, but some sewing and patching should do the trick." His gaze shifted to his daughter. "Alexandria, what could you gather from that?"

"As anticipated, his Physical readings increased following every strike, but such a jump wasn't nearly as subtle as what I'd thought we'd see. Each hit offered 20 points to the next, and what's more, his Physical stat actually doubled at his final hit's moment of impact... Interesting."

The Princess looked him over, then smiled warmly to Lyric. "I don't have any way of saying for sure, but, for the sake of preserving momentum..." Her voice faltered for a moment, though she did well in making a speedy recovery. "Let's consider him the best option we have—at least until we're able to reach a more concrete means of solving this dilemma. Father, how does that sound?"

The Miscreant cracked his smile, chiming in, "I think it sounds like a great idea. Picture it: the Hope and the Blue Devil, the one who makes even Demons look under their beds before they blow out their torches. I think it's got a ring to it."

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

Following a laugh, presumably at the boy's refueled ego, Altar appeared to think it over.

For Kyoya, this contemplative silence was oddly tense. His heart was almost racing, as if a little yes or no for something he hardly knew of could mean so much.

"I suppose I don't see the harm in it... If nothing else, it'd give us an opportunity to reclaim Altaire's morale, especially following the appearance of a Demon in the courtyard."

Relief had never been so desperately needed. By now, Kyoya rested certain that approval from the King of Altaire could be bottled and sold for a fortune.

Radiant smiles from around the room seemed to give life to every last bit of the night around them. Lyric's in particular inspired more hope than he could ever think was the limit. It wasn't much of a surprise.

"Speaking of restoring morale," a spark appeared in Alexandria's eyes. "I know just the way we can open the festivities tomorrow!"

"Wait, the Legends Festival's not a one-day thing?" asked the Miscreant.

"Nope," Lyric answered. "It runs for three days, with the first day being a sort of sampler for people to get here and settle in. They're able to rent out inns and other places to get situated, maybe spot a shop or two and get set for the real deal, which starts tomorrow."

"Is that right? What kicks off tomorrow?"

"Glad you asked, actually," the Seraph stated. "Y'see, the second day is when they organize a Dueling tournament, giving challengers a chance to duke it out with each other for a shot at being crowned this year's Legendary Duelist. The thing is, that title of reigning champion..."

She ducked low and looked around, pretending that someone were eavesdropping. "...belongs to yours truly."

"I guess that isn't too big of a surprise, seeing as how you're lounging around here with royals as part of free time. We'll see how long that title sticks, though..." He mimicked her action, ducking low and whispering just as she had. "...especially with me around."

Following a bout of playful back-and-forth from the Hope and her plus-one, Alexandria offered more input.

"Well, that's actually part of what I've decided to do for this year's tournament. Both to quell Miss Lyric's ego, and to give other fighters a chance at reaching the top, I'll be prohibiting either of you from entering—"

"WAIT, PAUSE, NOT FAIR!" She voiced her objections with a passion almost as bright as his fire. "JUST BECAUSE SOME PEOPLE CAN'T KEEP UP WITH ME SHOULDN'T MEAN—"

Kyoya stared with wide eyes at the flip in demeanor. An uproar of laughter, followed by a raised hand from Altaire's Princess seemed to soothe her fury.

"Worry yourself not, Miss Lyric." She got the last of her humor out, continuing, "Now that we may have another source of support on our hands, I find it fitting that an opening match between the two of you could be the best eye-catcher the Kingdom has ever witnessed. Sure, you'd be missing the actual tournament—but I don't feel that you'd truly have the time to commit to it, especially not with what will likely be falling onto your plate sooner than later."

Kyoya cast a glance to his guide.

"Hey, she's got a point. I won't say I'm not a little bummed about missing that tournament, but who's to say anybody in the pools will tally up to our marks? You'd probably be getting the most bang for your buck from me anyway, so—"

The Seraph finally caved.

"Alright, FINE! You'll eat those words, Blue—I'll be sure of it, come tomorrow."

"Sounds like a plan—I'm starved."