The World Is Mine For The Taking-Chapter 89 - The Sword Festival, Part 3 (4)

The fourth day of the Sword Festival finally arrived, but I didn't bother wasting my time watching the opening. Instead, I went straight to the matches, focusing only on Johanne's battles. Two out of three of his fights were already done, which meant he had only one left. If he won, he'd move on to the Quarterfinals. Whether we'd end up facing each other there or advancing separately to the Semis still remained uncertain.

The anticipation in the air was thick, the energy of the crowd crackling like static against my skin.

As I was watching, lost in thought about the potential matchups, I suddenly felt a sharp poke against my back. A jolt ran through me, and I turned around, only to be greeted by an almost blinding glint of light. My vision burned white for a second, and I instinctively raised a hand to shield my eyes.

My vision adjusted immediately, and standing before me with an exaggerated pout was Tris, her usual mischievous grin slightly dimmed by my reaction. The source of the sudden flash? Her glasses, perfectly angled to reflect the sunlight straight into my face.

"How rude of you to cover your eyes the second you see my face. Am I really that ugly?" she huffed

I blinked a few times to clear the lingering glare from my vision.

"Sorry," I said, still rubbing the corners of my eyes. "Your glasses caught the light at the wrong angle and flashed right into my eyes. It wasn't intentional—I swear."

Tris narrowed her eyes at me for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to believe me. Then, just as quickly, her face shifted back to amusement, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips.

"Well, I suppose that's fine. You don't seem like the type to lie," she said, flipping a strand of hair behind her shoulder.

I watched her closely as she reverted to her usual expression—that smug grin spreading wide across her face again, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

I hesitated for a moment before asking, "Sorry if this is out of nowhere, but… do people really call you ugly?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah. Plenty of times before." She shrugged, as if it was nothing.

That didn't sit right with me.

Ever since coming to this world, my standards for beauty had skyrocketed. Women here were absurdly gorgeous, and even some of the men looked unnaturally attractive. It was a level of perfection I'd never encountered back on Earth. Maybe being here had warped my perspective, or maybe I'd just grown used to being surrounded by stunning women.

But even with those heightened standards, I couldn't wrap my head around the idea that anyone would call Tris ugly. Sure, she wasn't exactly a goddess by this world's insane beauty expectations, but she was far from unattractive. In fact, if she had been born on Earth, she'd probably be modeling right now, gracing magazine covers with her sharp, intelligent features and natural charm.

"People call others ugly all the time, you know," she said matter-of-factly. "I'm not an exception."

I frowned slightly. "Really?"

Damn… I guess the beauty standards here were even more brutal than I thought.

"I don't think you're ugly at all," I told her. "Honestly, I think the people saying that are either blind or just jealous. Maybe they just can't handle the fact that you're actually good-looking."

Tris raised an eyebrow at me, her grin widening. Then, with an almost theatrical flutter of her eyelashes, she leaned in slightly.

"Oh? So you do think I'm quite the beauty, Leon?" Her tone was dripping with playful seduction. "Are you flirting with me? My, my… I should warn you—I'm a married woman."

I let out a short chuckle, shaking my head. "Relax, I'm not about to seduce my friend's wife."

"Really?" She gave me a wicked smirk. Then, with a teasing glint in her eye, she leaned in just a little closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Though, I wouldn't mind if you tried seducing my husband instead."

And there it was. That damn fujoshi glint in her eyes. Even after marrying Johanne, she still hadn't let go of her BL obsession. Some things really never changed.

As I was deep in conversation with Tris, a presence loomed behind her. Before I could react, a familiar voice cut through the noise of the arena.

"Tris, you shouldn't wander off without saying anything. If you keep this up, I might actually lose you like last time— Oh."

It was Johanne.

As always, she was very handsome. If the glare from Tris's glasses had nearly blinded me earlier, Johanne's sheer radiance might as well have burned a hole straight through my retinas. Of course, it wasn't like I was attracted to her or anything—I was a man, after all. But I had to wonder... If she ever returned to her original female form, would that sharp, refined handsomeness remain? Or would it morph into a beauty just as lethal?

I still had no idea what had caused her to become gender-bent in the first place. But if I ever uncovered the reason, I'd finally get my answer. For now, despite her masculine appearance, I knew the truth—Johanne might look like a man, but beneath that exterior, she was still biologically a woman.

"I saw your fights earlier," I said, watching her carefully. "Good job."

She flashed me a smile—one of those smiles. The kind that could make women swoon and probably send men into existential crises.

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"I watched yours too," she said smoothly. "That fight between you and Miss Zeruel was something else. I can't believe you managed to take her down even with her ability fully activated."

"Oh yeah! What the hell was that about, Leon?" Tris suddenly interjected, her sharp gaze locking onto me. "I thought you were just some average weakling, but now you're out here pulling off insane wins? What the hell?"

I shrugged, keeping my expression neutral. "I just trained enough to be good with a sword, that's all."

Tris wasn't buying it. She squinted at me, her lips curling into a knowing smirk, like she was trying to dissect my words and find the real truth hidden beneath them.

"Uh-huh," she muttered. "Leon, if you and Johanne both make it to the top in this tournament… would you lose?"

I met Johanne's gaze, holding it for a beat before answering.

"That depends on who takes control first," I admitted. "If Johanne gets even one step ahead of me, I'd probably lose."

Johanne let out a soft chuckle, her expression as calm as ever. "Well," she said with a casual shrug, "I guess we'll find out when the time comes."

The conversation lingered for a little longer, but soon, the moment arrived.

Johanne's match.

This was it—her final fight before the Quarterfinals. If she won here, she'd be moving forward to face the best of the best.

Her opponent stepped into the arena, and I instinctively studied him. He looked like your run-of-the-mill adventurer—unkempt, rugged, the type to have seen more blood than a butcher. But something about him was… off.

The way he gripped his sword. The subtle way he adjusted his stance. He wasn't just some amateur swinging steel with brute force. No, he was trained. Disciplined. Most adventurers were self-taught, relying on experience more than technique. But this guy? He had honed his swordsmanship under a specific style, a trained edge that reeked of discipline.

The referee stepped forward, looking as bored as ever—like he couldn't give a single thing about what was about to unfold.

"Strictly no skills are allowed in this tournament," he said, voice flat but firm. "Anyone caught breaking this rule will be immediately eliminated and disqualified."

He didn't even try to hide the pointed glance in my direction. Yeah, that was definitely because of yesterday's fight with Zeruel.

"Now then," the referee continued, raising his hand high into the air. "If you understand the rules—prepare yourselves."

The arena seemed to still for a moment, tension tightening like a noose around the combatants.

Then—

The referee's hand came crashing down.

"Fight!"

And in an instant, steel met steel.

The impact rang out like a war drum, the force sending a shockwave through the ground. The clash of blades tore through the air, sparks igniting as Johanne and her opponent collided with brutal precision.

The match had begun.

At first, neither of them had the upper hand. The battle was evenly matched, each clash of steel sending sparks flying as they tested each other's strength and precision. Johanne didn't seem to have immediately figured out her opponent's weak points, nor had she found an opening to exploit. I supposed that was to be expected—finding a flaw in a trained fighter's defense took time.

And this man—he was good.

Every movement was calculated, every swing of his blade backed by experience. He wasn't some amateur swinging steel blindly; he knew how to fight.

But even so, as the match dragged on, Johanne slowly began to take control.

The shift was subtle at first—a little more weight behind each strike, a little more speed in her movements. Then, before long, she was dominating. Her attacks hit harder, her blade pushing her opponent back step by step. The man could do nothing but block, barely keeping up with the relentless force behind Johanne's swings.

The tide had turned.

Now, there was no doubt in my mind—Johanne was going to win.

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Something happened.

Johanne's body suddenly tensed. Her expression twisted, her breath hitching as she clutched her lower stomach. A flicker of pain flashed across her face, her grip on her sword faltering.

Beside me, Tris let out a quiet, almost defeated sigh.

"Oh no… Not again…" she muttered under her breath.

I knew exactly why she had reacted like that.

This wasn't the first time Johanne had been struck by sudden, unexplained pain. The last time it had happened was during her physical examination—right in the middle of being assessed.

She had no idea what was causing it. Even the doctors couldn't figure it out. Johanne thought it was some kind of mysterious illness, something invisible to the naked eye.

But I knew the truth.

It wasn't an illness. It wasn't some unseen condition.

It was just that time of the month.