Training had ended — as had the scheduled events for the day. It was one such afternoon.
Seated on a slightly elevated earthen mound on the training grounds was Fie. She, in turn, was looking at the squires on the training grounds. They were currently gathered around, seemingly to demonstrate something to each other.
With large, elaborate movements, wooden swords were swung left and right as the squires stood, their faces filled with satisfied, even proud expressions.
“Hey. What are they doing?” Fie, who had no idea what was going on, posed the question to a passing Gormus.
“Ah. That. Something about a finishing move.”
Gormus’ stoic response was accompanied by an exasperated expression.
“Finishing move...”
Upon hearing that, Fie once again began observing the squires.
“It... doesn’t seem very useful,” she said, as if uninterested.
“Of course it isn’t.” Gormus nodded, agreeing.
However, a week later, Fie found herself enviously watching her fellow squires in the northern dormitory.
“I’ve finally learned one, too! It’s called the Five-Count Stab!”
“What are you even talking about? Clearly my Horizontal-Vertical Spinning Stab is cooler!”
“No, you guys are both nothing compared to the 12th Knights Special!”
Apparently, the discussion of “finishing moves” or “finishers” was all the rage amongst the squires of the northern dormitory. It would seem like some of the squires were taught said moves by their seniors this week, and as a result, the squires had been busy pitting these so-called finishing moves against each other, in a bid to ascertain one’s superiority.
Upon seeing the sparkles and fulfilled expressions on the squire’s faces, Fie’s eyes also began to fill with an admiring gleam of their own.
“They have it good... I want to try practicing too...”
However, Fie could do nothing but enviously watch with her desire for a move of her own plain in her features.
After all, Fie had been relatively late to the whole finisher party. None of her seniors in the 18th Knights had decided to teach her something like that — as such, it was only natural that the others couldn’t discuss the matter much with Fie.
Gormus on the other hand, who had been standing next to Fie the entire time she was staring enviously, turned his exasperation upon her.
“So you want to participate in that after all? That stuff isn’t going to be useful in actual combat. If you want to get stronger, practice your sword swings instead.”
Upon hearing Gormus’ words, Fie began practicing swinging next to her friend, as if having come to some sort of realization. However, Fie could not get her mind off finishing moves after all.
“Gormus! I’m going to learn a finisher tomorrow!”
“Hey... are you even listening to me...? That stuff isn’t going to help. To begin with, you yourself said a week ago that it was pointless.”
Now drenched in sweat from her swings, Fie closed her hand into a fist, her face filled with an incomprehensible determination. To all that, Gormus responded with a slightly irritated expression.
Gormus had observed that the so-called finishing moves that were exhibited at the beginning of this boom were simple, and it was doubtful that they served a purpose in actual combat. However, the trend had now worsened to moves that took close to ten seconds or so to execute, in addition to using purposely long and flamboyant actions.
If anyone tried using one of those moves during a squire test or live combat, they would surely be defeated almost instantly.
(The ones teaching them must be in on the joke as well...)
The above was, summarily, Gormus’ thoughts on the matter.
“But that’s why I’m envious! I want to do it!”
Fie, on the other hand, had already made up her mind. Although she had decided that it was all relatively pointless a week ago, the sight of her fellow squires having fun had caught Fie unawares, moving her heart in the process — and that was the magic of social movements. It was Fie’s first brush with such power.
To Fie, they all seemed like they were having fun — and so she was naturally envious. On top of that, she felt a sense of camaraderie between the squires and their seniors as they practiced said moves. She was so envious.
“I’ll learn it tomorrow... The 18th Knights special...”
“Don’t just make up move names on your own... Ugh... Do whatever you like... I’m telling you now, though, don’t involve me in it.”
Fie, who had been enveloped by the waves of the finisher boom, was promptly thrown aside by Gormus. He was fully content to abandon his friend to her own devices, as if not wanting to be drawn into the spiral of silliness, for fear of it being contagious.
“All right, then! Then I’ll show you the move I’ve learned next week, Gormus!”
“I said I want nothing to do with it! Listen to what people say goddammit! Also don’t ‘all right then’ me!”
Fie was content to drag Gormus down with her into the depths of her delusions — but Gormus, having none of it, raised his voice in disgust.
That was how Fie ended up standing before Crow the next day.
Although he was merely a flirt at first sight, Fie had personally witnessed and hence understood the measure of Crow’s prowess. In addition, Crow was always looking out for her, and seemed to show her a fair degree of care.
Due to the above reasons, Fie thought that Crow would definitely teach her a finishing move of some sort.
“Sir Crow! Please teach me a finishing move!”
Fie made her earnest request with a fist before her chest. Seeing this, Crow placed a hand on his chin, a nostalgic expression crossing his face.
“Ah, that. It’s still going around? It was popular about three years ago too.”
“Is that so?”
According to Crow’s account, the finisher boom was something that happened amongst squires every once in a while. The senior knights would then pass down the moves they had learned, in addition to moves that they had thought up themselves.
“Th-Then...”
If Crow had known about this, then surely he would have a finishing move of his own. Fie’s expectations began to steadily rise.
“Ah. I’ll teach you. My special finisher.” Crow smiled wryly, nodding.
As per Crow’s instructions, Fie was now standing with her back against a wall.
In front of her stood Crow.
(I wonder what it is! It must be something for escaping when cornered up against a wall! Or is it a technique for defeating an enemy pushed up against a wall?)
Fie’s heartbeat pounded with anticipation.
“Heath, this is a special finisher I thought up on my own. I’m going to make an exception and teach it to you.”
“Wow! Thank you very much!”
It was good that she had discussed this with Crow — or so Fie thought, contentedly. She was sure that Crow was going to show her an amazing move.
“Well then, let’s go.”
“Yes!”
On Fie’s word, Crow’s expression suddenly became serious.
(As expected, one needs a serious face when executing finishing moves!)
Fie’s internal tension began to rise.
First, Crow placed his left arm right beside Fie’s face, against the wall.
(Is he sealing off a route of escape?)
Crow’s right hand soon followed.
(It’s not a sword move...?)
Although Fie had originally wanted some sort of sword move, she was currently content to settle for some other kind of technique. Crow’s pretty face, however, was gradually moving close to Fie’s.
(Eh... Eh...?)
Fie had no idea what was happening. Soon, Crow’s face was too close for comfort.
Just as Crow was about to come into contact with Fie, he instead moved his face over to one side, whispering straight into Fie’s ear in a low voice.
“You’re the only one I’ll ever love.”
“HYAAAAH!”
At that moment, a shiver ran down Fie’s spine, and she promptly let out a scream. Upon hearing that, Crow covered his mouth, trying to suppress the shaking currently breaking out through his body.
“Hu... Haha... Ha...”
Crow was laughing. To be more precise, Crow was trying not to laugh — and Fie had finally noticed.
Crow had pranked Fie. Big time.
“Hah! Ahahahahahahaha!”
In the end, Crow could not hide his laughter any longer, and erupted into a loud, rumbling guffaw from his stomach.
“Sir Crow, you lied to me! You said you’d teach me a finishing move!” Fie’s face was red — a mixture of embarrassment and anger.
“No, no, it’s true! That’s what I use to net the girls, you know? I’m only teaching it to you.”
“I don’t need something like that! I don’t need it!”
Fie balled up her fists and started pummeling Crow with all her might. Crow, however, continued laughing — Fie’s attempts at violence had no impact on his muscled body.
“Haha, it worked, right? You let out a scream just like a girl! Hey! Hey that hurts! W-Wait, don’t hit me there! Stop it!”
Upon seeing that her assault had no effect on Crow, Fie decided to go for his more sensitive regions instead. She aimed for gaps in the muscles, just as Conrad had taught her.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I was wrong!” Crow quickly repented upon being punished in the appropriate areas, and apologized to Fie in turn.
Red-faced, Fie’s words came out in between pants, as she finally stopped her assault.
“Ugh! You’re impossible, Sir Crow!”
“Well, it’s my fault for messing with you, but swordplay is something that you train for day after day. It’d be bad if you picked up any strange habits. Stop trying to mess with your sword technique.”
Although Crow had played a prank on Fie, it would seem that he was trying to offer her some advice as well.
“Then, is it okay if my finisher is not a sword technique?”
“Hmm... Maybe. In any case, go ask the rest.”
Crow nodded at Fie’s question — and so Fie set out to find a finishing move of some kind that did not involve using a sword.
The person who Fie decided to visit next was Conrad. She had heard that he was the most well-versed in unarmed combat.
Ever since Conrad’s assignment with Fie, he had been in lady’s attire whenever Fie visited. Today, he was dressed in a luxurious, bright red dress, with gold thread running through its fabric. No one said anything about this, however. Fie, for her part, decided not to either.
“Sir Conrad! I’ve come to learn your techniques! Please teach them to me!”
“Oh, if it’s makeup techniques you want, I’ll teach them all to you!”
Upon hearing Fie’s request, the made up and beautifully dressed Conrad propped his face up with a hand, lazily cocking his head to one side.
Fie, however, shook her head at the suggestion.
“That’s not it. I don’t want to learn that. I want to learn your unarmed techniques, Sir. Please teach me.”
The very same techniques that had felled those guards instantaneously. If Fie learned those, she would be able to surprise the other squires without a doubt.
“Hmm...”
After thinking for a short while, Conrad picked up an apple that was conveniently on the table, holding it in the free hand that was not propping up his face.
“Do this.”
“...?” This time, it was Fie who cocked her head at Conrad, apparently confused.
“This.”
In that moment, Conrad gave Fie a faint smile — and the apple in his hands promptly exploded.
The apple had exploded as if it were loaded with gunpowder. Its broken pieces flew in all directions, and that which was once an apple lay crushed in Conrad’s left hand, trace drops of juice dripping onto the table.
Still maintaining his faint smile, Conrad asked Fie a question.
“Would you like to try it?”
“It’s impossible...” She quickly shook her head from side to side.
And so, Fie decided to ask Orbel as well.
“Sir Orbel, do you have a finishing move?”
Orbel smiled slightly, holding out a piece of paper.
Not really, no.
“I see...” Fie returned the gesture with a slight smile of her own.
After that, the two took care of Orbel’s planters as usual, and then Fie went elsewhere in her quest for a finishing move.
This time, Fie decided to visit Parwick, who was found practicing archery once again at the practice grounds.
“Sir Parwick, could you teach me a bit about the bow?”
“Oh, it’s you, Heath. I can teach you the basics of the bow, yes.”
Parwick’s answer came as he casually shot an arrow straight into the target’s bullseye, without once turning to face Fie.
Although there were some squires who found him difficult to approach, and hence found him frightening, Fie found out that he was actually a very caring person.
Fie explained to Parwick the circumstances and reason for her visit. Upon hearing her explanation, Parwick responded to Fie in his usual, calm voice.
“In that case, it is the same as the sword. There are no finishing moves. I will instead tell you to train on a regular basis. If you pick up any strange habits, you would not only have issues learning the sword, but other weapons, too,” Parwick told her.
Fie had just started training, so she really shouldn’t have been engaging in any activities that would negatively affect her stance — that was a given.
(But...)
Parwick’s arrow once again hit the target’s bullseye, in the exact same position as the previous arrow that he had since been removed. There wasn’t a single millimeter of difference.
(This is already a finisher in and of itself...) Fie thought to herself as she observed Parwick’s skill with the bow.
Fie visited Garuge next, who was in his personal workshop within the castle. Garuge apparently made simple tools and objects at the workbench in the 18th’s headquarters, but larger projects required an actual furnace and a strong fire. It would not have made much sense to put such facilities in the wooden warehouse — and as such, this workshop had been made for that purpose.
In addition, Garuge didn’t just make arms for the 18th, but also supplied various weapons to other platoons as well.
“A finishing move huh... Well, I don’t really participate in combat, you know...” Garuge listened to Fie’s explanation while rubbing his stubbled chin.
“I... see...”
Fie had also thought that it was a little strange to ask Garuge of all people, but with this, the only member of the 18th she hadn’t spoken to was Captain Yore.
However, he was a busy individual, and would probably give Fie the same answer that Crow and the rest had — even Fie was able to predict as much.
To begin with, Captain Yore and Crow’s level of swordplay were already finishing moves themselves, but there was no way Fie could learn something like that so quickly.
“Hmm, but I DO have something like this.”
Just as Fie was going to give up on learning a finisher of her own, Garuge withdrew a sword from the depths of his workshop.
“What is it!?” Fie’s eyes were once again filled with the rekindled sparkle of expectation.
Holding the sword in his hands, Garuge aimed it at a wooden panel mounted within the workshop, depressing the upper part of its grip with a thumb.
Immediately, with the sound of moving machinery and springs, the sword’s blade shot out, promptly impaling itself deep within the board.
Upon seeing this, Fie could not help but cheer out loud.
“Th-That’s awesome!” However, she quickly calmed down after that. “But... I don’t think this is quite it.”
Fie thought that modifying one’s weapon was probably against the rules. Garuge, laughing in spite of himself, responded with a “Haha, thought so.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t help you out. Well, if you want anything made, tell me and I’ll make it for you.”
“Yes, thank you very much.”
With that, Fie parted ways with Garuge, wondering if she perhaps did want that sword after all.
Upon returning to headquarters, Fie saw the silhouette of a familiar masked knight.
“Captain!” Fie frantically waved, quickly making her way to his side.
“Heath. You seem well, and energetic as usual.”
“Yes, I’m well!” Fie could not help but smile and nod at Yore’s words.
Deciding she had nothing to lose, Fie decided to ask Yore the question she had asked all the others.
“Captain, do you have a finishing move? I want to learn one!”
“A... finishing move?” Yore repeated, in a tone that suggested he had no idea what Fie was asking.
Upon listening to Fie’s explanation, Yore gave a single nod.
“Hmm. Is that how it is?” Yore paused to think about Fie’s words. “In that case, Cain would be suitable. His skills might even benefit you in the future. If you are interested, you could ask him to teach you.”
Hearing the unfamiliar name of “Cain,” Fie was reminded of the fact that she had not yet met the final member of the 18th knights.
“I have not met Sir Cain. Can I meet him?”
Fie had assumed from Yore’s manner of speech that there was probably a way to meet Cain. Curious about this mysterious last member, Fie decided to ask Yore if she could meet him herself.
“I see. You haven’t met. He’s probably somewhere over there.”
Yore was pointing to a single tree within the castle grounds.
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