Tetsuya stared vacantly at the ceiling, completely lost in his thoughts. A few days ago, he was just a normal high school kid from Tokyo. The only thing on his mind was how he was going to manage to scrape by with a passing grade on his entrance exams. The next thing you know, he’s stuck in a foreign land, living the life of an adventurer, conscripted into defending a village against a horde of orc invaders. It was like some kind of terrible isekai manga, but a hundred times more terrifying.

Subconsciously, he began tracing his fingers gently over the scar on his chest. He flinched out of instinct, not due to any physical pain, but from the vividness of the memory of the moment that the dagger pierced his heart. That cold, ominous feeling of life leaving his body as he stood within reach of death’s door. It’s the kind of feeling that you never quite forget. It just lingers behind, festering somewhere deep down inside of you. No matter how much time passes, no matter how cleanly your wounds might heal, no man can ever forget the taste of death’s kiss against his lips.

“I should be dead,” he said to himself softly.

He vaguely recalled Darcy kneeling over him, frantically using her healing magic to keep him alive. It felt almost as if a dozen phantom hands were reaching inside of his body and suturing the wounds. It was a different experience from when Lord Edward tended to his wounds. Perhaps it was due to the difference in the magical aptitude between Darcy and Lord Edward. Maybe it was due to the difference in the severity of the wounds, after all, a dagger to the heart is far more grievous than a bite from an orthrus. Either way, he was thankful that Darcy was there to keep him alive.

“I owe Darcy my life,” he said, “I should thank her when I get the chance.”

Most of that day was a blur for him. He remembered the thunderous sound of steel clashing against steel and steel cutting down flesh. He remembered the wailing screams of the dying. He remembered the distinctive stench of death as dead bodies piled up, one on top of another. Then, he remembered something else. Something even more horrifying. He remembered the rivers of blood that he spilled with his sword. He remembered the euphoria that he felt as he felled his enemies one after another. He remembered how easy it was to take a life, it felt almost as if it was second nature to him. It was as easy and instinctive as breathing air. He remembered it all.

The boy shuddered in horror, “What the fuck is wrong with me?” he muttered to himself, derailing his morbid train of thoughts.

He sat up on the bed and surveyed his surroundings. He was back in his room, on the second floor of Roland’s Workshop. It felt nice to lay down on a soft bed again, as opposed to the past few nights of sleeping on the cold, hard ground at Galanis’ Village. But, it also felt a bit lonely to sleep in his room alone without Chelsea clutching onto his body like he was some kind of an anime body pillow. He missed the warmth of her body enveloping him.

Tetsuya dragged himself out of bed and looked outside the window. The dawn had barely broken and Chelsea was already training with Roland in the backyard. Sparring with live steel, because “no one swings a fucking wooden weapon in the fucking battlefield” Roland would often tell his students. Tetsuya couldn’t help but wonder just how many students lived through Roland’s grueling training sessions throughout the years.

He watched her from his window as she charged at Roland with her battle axe, Roland sidestepped the attack and swung his war hammer, caving the front of her plate mail in and knocking her flat on her ass. She took a moment to catch her breath, then stood up and went back on the attack. Tetsuya admired her tenacity; he had never met anyone in his life with as much drive and determination to achieve her dreams as Chelsea.

“She’s going to get you killed one of these days, you know?”

"Yeah, I know.”

“And this doesn’t bother you?”

“No, not really.”

“Why not?”

“...Because I know that she’s worth dying for.”

Tetsuya shut his eyes tightly and shook his head.

“Is that from a video game or an anime or something?” he muttered to himself. Those words sounded eerily familiar, but he couldn’t quite place them. Now, it was going to gnaw away at the back of his mind for the rest of the day.

Tetsuya opened up his footlocker and threw on his gambeson. He bought it to replace the leather armor that was damaged during the Battle of Galanis’ Village. He quite fancied the additional mobility it provided him, not to mention it was much easier to patch up than leather armor. He paused for a moment and picked up the longsword that laid before him. He took the sword out from its sheath, admiring its beauty. On the pommel was an engraving of a fox’s head, the symbol of House Prescott. Lord Edward had given the sword to him as a parting gift. A sword crafted by the finest swordsmith in Alfheim, normally a standard-issue sword given to soldiers who fight under House Prescott’s banner. Chelsea was green with envy when she discovered that Lord Edward had allowed him to use such a sword during their training, and she grew even more envious when she found out that Lord Edward allowed him to keep the sword as a gift.

The boy made his way down the stairs and passed through Roland’s work area. There were piles of unfinished weapons and broken armors that needed repair. Roland was never short of work; it came with the territory of being an unparalleled craftsman. Dwarves were well known for their masterful craftsmanship, and even among his fellow dwarves, Roland was peerless. Even with the amount of work Roland had on his plate, he still found the time to train both him and Chelsea in the art of combat.

Tetsuya opened the door to the backyard and watched Chelsea and Roland swing their weapons at each other. Chelsea was so focused on her training that she didn’t even notice the boy watching her.

“About time you woke the fuck up!” Roland yelled at the boy.

Chelsea’s face lit up as she turned towards the boy. Roland took advantage of the distraction he had created and tagged her on the side of her plate mail with his war hammer. Chelsea fell to a knee, Roland’s powerful strike took the wind out of her sails.

“What the fuck do I always tell you?” Roland snarled coldly.

“Never take your eyes off of your enemies unless you’re sure that they’re dead,” Chelsea said, hanging her head low.

Roland stared at the half-orc girl silently. “Go,” he said with a deep sigh, his eyes looking in the direction of the boy.

Chelsea smiled, springing back to her feet. She rushed to greet the boy.

“How are you feeling?” she asked

“Good,” he replied. “I’m feeling good.”

She placed her hand gently on his chest, “How’s your injury?” she asked, “It doesn’t hurt, does it?”

Tetsuya shook his head. “No, everything is good.”

Chelsea breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good to hear.”

”Yeah,” Tetsuya nodded akwardly, “Good.”

“If you’re feeling so fucking good then get out there and take on some fucking contracts,” Roland said as he shoved his way past the two of them. “Don’t forget, you’ve got fucking rent to pay!”

“But,” Tetsuya began to protest, “I already paid you this week’s rent!”

“That was your old rate,” Roland yelled back at him. “You’re a big fucking hero now, so you can afford to pay more!”

“Gyahaha!” Chelsea snickered to herself.

“He’s joking, right?” Tetsuya asked nervously. “I can barely keep up with the rent as it is.”

Chelsea smirked to herself as she walked back into the house.

“He’s joking, right?: Tetsuya asked again

The Adventurers' Guild Office was quiet, disconcertingly so. In the early mornings, the building was usually full of adventurers looking for a day's work. In the late evenings, they would return to collect their payment. But in the middle of the day, the building was mostly empty, save for a few odd adventurers straggling by and the guild clerks working behind the counter. The guild clerks went about their business, filing paperwork and posting new contracts up on the bulletin board.

"What do you want to do today?" Tetsuya asked his half-orc companion as he stared at the bulletin board full of contracts. Each contract posted on that bulletin board was a brand new adventure, a brand-new experience just waiting to be explored. The world was their oyster.

"I don't know," Chelsea replied, staring blankly at the bulletin board, "You decide."

"Wanna go kill some more giant rats?" Tetsuya asked. He fondly remembered his first official contract as an adventurer. Wading through the sewers, slaughtering dozen upon dozens of disease-carrying vermin, getting paid next to nothing for his troubles. It really did feel suspiciously like grinding through the starter area in an MMORPG.

"Eh," she replied listlessly. "I don’t really feel like spending the next few days trying to get the smell of raw sewage off of my clothes again."

"What about slimes? " Tetsuya asked, imagining the jiggly, gelatinous, low-level enemies commonly found in many role-playing games, "Those can’t be that bad, right?"

"Those things will eat you alive," she replied, shocked that the boy would suggest taking on such dangerous creatures, "They'll swallow you whole and break down your flesh with their super-powerful digestive juices until your entire body disintegrates into a mist of nothingness-"

"Okay, no slimes," he said. "Oh, there's some goblins terrorizing a mining village to the west of here."

“We usually have this one weirdo that takes on all the goblin extermination contracts,” Chelsea replied. “He gets all pouty whenever he finds out that other adventurers killed a bunch of goblins before he got a chance to do it himself.”

“By any chance, does he walk around in grubby leather armor and a helmet that always hides his face?” Tetsuya asked, half sarcastically.

“Yeah,” Chelsea replied, “How did you know?”

“Lucky guess,” Tetsuya replied. "So, what do you want to do?" the boy asked, quickly changing the subject.

"It doesn't matter," Chelsea replied. "You decide."

Tetsuya glared at his half-orc companion.

“Pardon me,” a guild clerk interrupted, “Chelsea and Tetsuya Miyazki, correct?”

“Chelsea and Tetsuya Miyazki,” Tetsuya thought silently to himself, “The way she said that made it sound like we’re a married couple or something.”

“That’s us,” Chelsea replied with a toothy grin.

The guild clerk rummaged through her satchel for a moment and then handed each of them a black envelope decorated with intricate golden embellishments. The envelopes were sealed with a wax stamp depicting a golden rose, Testsuya recognized the golden rose as the emblem of House Gallagher.

“These are special contracts offered specifically for the two of you,” the guild clerk explained. “They were issued directly by the Alfheim Royal Family, so I suggest that you do not take these contracts lightly,” she gave them a polite nod and returned to her work.

Chelsea opened her envelope and began reading the letter carefully. Once she had finished reading, she put the letter down and spent a few moments collecting her thoughts, then she read the letter a second time to make sure that she read everything correctly.

Now curious, Tetsuya opened his envelope and began reading it to himself.

Tetsuya Miyazaki,

Due to your outstanding valor and your service to the Frostlands during the Battle of Galanis’ VIllage, the Alfheimian Royal Family, House Gallagher would like to formally invite you to participate in this year's Queen’s Tournament. Thank you for your service to the Kingdom of Alfheim, the Free City of Midgard, and the rest of the Frostlands. Good luck and may the gods be with you, always.

-Princess Deirdre of House Gallagher

“Hey, Chelsea...” Tetsuya looked up and noticed that Chelsea’s hands were trembling as she held her letter, an expression of utter disbelief plastered on her face, “What’s the Queen’s Tournament?” the boy asked.

The tavern was busy and brimming with life, as adventurers poured in and out of its revolving doors eager to spend their hard-earned salary on the finer things in life. Namely good meat and good booze. Tetsuya and Chelsea sat together at a dimly lit table on the corner of the tavern. Across from them was their motley crew of friends. The big, hulking lizardman MacGregor. The cool, bespectacled dark elf beauty Frida. The innocent, pious high elf with a penchant for ultra-violence Darcy. Liam is there as well. The six friends stared at the two envelopes laying on the tavern table.

Tetsuya sat quietly, forcing himself to take a sip of his rice wine. Every time he took a sip, he would involuntarily make a face. The boy still hadn’t quite developed a taste for alcohol yet. His childish palate couldn’t even handle the taste of coffee without drowning it in an ungodly amount of sugar and cream. Chelsea sat next to him and studied his face carefully, grinning to herself every time the boy took a sip and made face. She found the boy’s inexperience with alcohol mildly amusing.

“Yeah,” Liam said, placing his invitation on the tavern table next to the other two, “I got one of those too.”

MacGregor scoffed as he took a swig from his fifth bottle of whiskey. “I understand why Chelsea and Miyazaki got an invitation to participate in the Queen’s Tournament,” MacGregor said, “After all, the two of them crippled the orc horde by taking out their leader. Which was the most bad ass thing I have ever seen in my life by the way,” he raised his half-empty bottle of whiskey to the two adventurers and gave them a nod of respect.

MacGregor turned to Liam and his expression shifted. “But you,” he leered at the high elven young man coldly “What the fuck did you do that was so goddamn special?”

Liam shrugged. “I don’t know,” the young elf said, brimming with a smug sense of self-confidence, “Other than having the highest kill count in that battle,” he added proudly, puffing out his chest.

“Pretty sure Alexis had you beat,” Chelsea chimed in between bites of the oven-roasted boar leg on her plate. She had a bad habit of talking with a mouthful of food. Tetsuya found her total lack of etiquette oddly endearing.

Liam frowned. “Seriously?” he asked in disbelief, “Do you guys really think that deer boy got more kills than me?”

“Yes,” Frida replied, not mincing her words, “No contest. He had you beat.”

“It was not even close!” Darcy added cheerfully, joining in on the fun.

"I wonder if Alexis got an invitation too,” Tetsuya said. The battle was hectic and he only caught brief glimpses of the faun from the corner of his eyes. But every time he did, it was like he was witnessing something magical. Like watching three-star chef preparing a full-course meal or seeing a world-class painter turning an empty canvas into a work of art.

“I hope so,” MacGregor replied, “I’d pay good money to see him humiliate the shit out of our boy Liam over here.”

Liam scowled and downed an entire bottle of whiskey “I sure am blessed by the gods to have such kind and supportive friends,” he said sarcastically under his breath.

His friends around the table showed him their kindness and support by pelting him with tavern peanuts coming in every direction. The friends shared a hearty laugh, even Liam couldn’t help but grin to himself.

"Still, it would have been nice to represent Clan MacGregor in the Queen’s Tournament,” MacGregor said with a disappointed sigh as he stared at the empty bottles of whiskey in front of him. The table fell silent. MacGregor was not the type of man who openly talked about his feelings. But, his friends understood lizardfolk culture. To his people, there was no greater honor in life than to bring glory to your clan. The six of them fought side by side on that battlefield. Tetsuya, Chelsea, and Liam were rewarded for their valor. MacGregor did not. It must have been deflating for him to miss out on the opportunity to represent his clan proudly at the Queen’s Tournament.

”Another round!” Liam called out to the bartender.

“What about you, Frida?” Chelsea asked, turning to her friend. “With that crazy shit that you pulled, I thought for sure you would have gotten an invitation.” She remembered how Frida used a dragon’s heart as a catalyst in tandem with a high-level incantation to unleash a hellish dragon’s breath that utterly devastated the enemy horde. Anyone could make an argument that Frida was the one who turned the tides of the battle in their favor, securing the victory for their side.

Frida shook her head. “My skills aren’t suited for one on one combat,” she replied pragmatically. “Even if I did get an invitation, I would probably have to decline.”

“Darcy?” Chelsea asked, turning to her other friend.

“I did not get an invitation either,” the elf girl replied with a half-hearted smile. “But I shall happily cheer the three of you on as a spectator and pray that you all do well in the tournament.”

MacGregor, Frida and Darcy hung their heads and an air of sadness befell the table.

“For the past few years, the Queen’s Tournament has remained mostly unchanged,” Chelsea rambled on to herself. “The tournament has sixteen slots. Traditionally, four of those slots are reserved for members of the Queensguard. Part of the appeal of the tournament is that regular adventurers like us can face off one on one against a member of the Queensguard. It gives the Alfheim Royal Family a chance to scout for potential new members of the Queensguard. That being said, that only leaves twelve slots open. That means every adventurer across the four nations of the Frostlands is constantly vying for one of those slots.”

“I can't imagine how much work it must take to sit down and decided which adventurers make the final cut,” Frida said, “I'm sure it wasn't an easy decision.”

”There are probably hundreds of amazing adventurers out there who didn’t make the cut,” MacGregor added.

“We will just have to try even harder next year!” Darcy piped in thoughtfully.

Tetsuya was finally beginning to understand the gravity of his situation. The Queen’s Tournament meant a lot of things to a lot of different people. He placed his hand over his invitation. Did he really deserve to be a part of this? MacGregor, Frida, Darcy, they were all such amazing people, all of them top-notch adventurers. If they couldn’t make the cut, then why did he? It was all a fluke, wasn’t it? He remembered making a mad rush for Dubaku, he remembered getting stabbed in the heart by him, he remembers blasting the orc warlord with a fire magic spell to the face, he remembered staggering around on the brink of death and watching Chelsea land the killing blow on the orc warlord. Was that really enough to earn him a spot in the Queen’s Tournament?”

MacGregor turned to Liam. “Would be a shame if you lost in the first round,” he taunted his friend between swigs of his whiskey.

“Not a chance,” Liam laughed. “I’ll probably end up winning the whole thing.”

Everyone at the table pelted Liam with peanuts once again.

Tetsuya sat quietly, lost in his thoughts. The idea of an utter novice like him competing against some of the greatest adventurers from all across the Frostlands should be a terrifying prospect for him. But, oddly enough, all he felt was a strange calm washing over him. Eerier still, he didn’t notice the grin forming on the corner of his lips.