WTSP - 30

Exiting the waiting area, I noticed a table laden with various bows and weapons.

Participants, regardless of gender, were engaged in a fierce battle of wits to secure the best bow.

“What? They’re all the same bows, just with different designs.”

I avoided the physical scuffles and approached the weapons table.

Upon closer inspection, all the bows were crafted from sturdy wood, identical in structure. The differences lay only in the fabrics and paints used for decoration.

It seemed fairness was ensured by having everyone use the same type of bow—a logical decision.

“I’m sorry, Count, but you cannot use any bow other than those provided.”

“What? How dare you stop me! Do you even know what this bow is? I polished it meticulously for today!”

“By order of His Majesty the Emperor, all participants must use weapons prepared by the palace.”

The man with a bushy mustache was visibly enraged at not being allowed to use his personal bow.

As he ranted about his family’s name and reputation, it was clear the knights handling him had encountered such tantrums before. When the knight invoked the Emperor’s decree, the count flinched and slunk away, deflated.

“Poor guys. I wonder if Rovair’s here too. As the vice-commander of the knights, he might be resting somewhere.”

I picked up one of the closest bows.

Though simpler in design compared to others, its blue-painted accents caught my eye.

A knight announced that those who had chosen their bows should now collect their arrows.

“How many arrows do we get?”

“Twenty per person, Your Highness. We’d like to give more, but regulations limit us…”

“Oh, I wasn’t complaining. Twenty is enough. Thank you.”

I smiled lightly as I surveyed the neatly stacked arrows.

“With twenty shots, maybe I can catch three animals.”

After exchanging a nod with the knight, I turned back to inspect the arrowheads.

But confusion struck the moment I pulled an arrow from its container.

“Excuse me, I think there’s been a mistake. These arrows look like toys… Are they safe?”

“Ah! I was going to explain once the tournament began… These are enchanted arrows, Your Highness. Once they hit their target, a spell identifies the animal automatically.”

The knight proudly explained how imperial magicians had spent days enchanting every single arrow.

Still puzzled, I examined the arrow closely.

Instead of sharp metal tips, the arrows had blunt, rounded rubber heads. Tapping them against my palm confirmed they were utterly harmless.

“Enchanted, you say? That makes sense… but still.”

I nodded in acknowledgment and moved toward the table holding additional weapons.

Honestly, sacrificing animals just to flaunt hunting skills felt deeply unethical.

What crime had these creatures committed to deserve death?

Realizing the logic behind this humane approach, I nodded approvingly and placed the arrows into the quiver on my shoulder.

“My thoughts were short-sighted. Of course, this is the right way to do things.”

“You’re allowed to choose one additional weapon, correct?”

“Yes, Your Highness. Many ladies have opted for daggers. While no danger is expected, they may serve as a precaution.”

The broad-shouldered knight emphasized the word “no,” clearly confident in their ability to ensure safety.

Taking pride in one’s work is admirable. With that thought, I glanced over the daggers—but none appealed to me.

“A proper sword is always better. Daggers lack style.”

My gaze quickly shifted to the swords. From massive longswords to elegantly curved rapiers, the selection gleamed invitingly.

Since the main focus of the tournament was archery, there seemed to be fewer restrictions on secondary weapons.

Among the array, one silver rapier caught my eye.

“I’ll take this one. It’s light and well-balanced.”

“That’s a difficult weapon to handle… Are you sure, Your Highness? The daggers would be more convenient.”

“But I like this one.”

Seeing no grounds to dissuade me, the knight reluctantly nodded.

The shimmering rapier resembled a fencing foil—far more appealing than any clumsy wooden sword. Satisfied, I secured it in my sword holster and continued onward.

Just then, a voice—familiar yet distant—pierced the air. Or rather, voices.

“Ophelia! Big brother’s here!”

“For heaven’s sake, Elian, lower your voice. Or I’ll cut out your tongue.”

“What’s wrong with calling my little sister by her name, Brother? Oh, there she is… Your Highness!”

Elian awkwardly added the honorific after catching Raquelle’s murderous glare. Hearing “Your Highness” from him was amusing, to say the least.

Raquelle Meredith stood as stern as ever, staring at his younger brother through a monocle that seemed newer and shinier than usual.

He gave me a slight bow and spoke quietly.

“Your Highness, I see you’ve chosen your bow.”

“As I’ve said before… Please speak freely. Calling me ‘Your Highness’ feels so stiff and uncomfortable.”

“See, Brother? Ophelia hates this kind of formality.”

“Elian. Remember how sharp my blade is today.”

Raquelle sighed, delivering the chilling threat with unnerving ease.

Not exactly a comedic duo.

Watching the bickering brothers, I couldn’t help but chuckle weakly.

“You two haven’t changed. I didn’t expect to see you both here. You could’ve at least sent word.”

“Who would’ve imagined you’d participate? What possessed you to sign up for this?”

Once Raquelle confirmed no one was nearby, he launched into a lecture.

Elian, standing beside him, wore an expression of agreement—or perhaps pure curiosity.

“To be honest, none of us expected you to join. Father might faint if he finds out.”

“Most nobles and royals are participating, so that’s understandable… But why are you dressed like that?”

Raquelle made no effort to hide his displeasure, scrutinizing me from head to toe. Only now did he notice my attire.

“An empress wearing something not even a tomboy teenager would choose? What are you doing?”

“An empress wearing something not even a tomboy teenager would choose? What are you doing?”

...Could he read minds? I stared at Raquelle in shock.

This guy isn’t secretly a telepath, is he? A shiver ran down my spine.

Fortunately, he missed my reaction and continued his tirade.

“Couldn’t you have picked a proper dress like the other consorts? You’ve changed so much since entering the palace, Ophelia.”

“Brother, really. She looks stylish and comfortable to me. Let her be free.”

Elian flashed his signature carefree grin, adjusting the quiver on his shoulder.

As he organized his scattered arrows, something odd caught my eye.

“Wait… Elian, can I see one of your arrows?”

“Huh? Sure, here.”

Elian handed me an arrow.

My suspicions were confirmed. Unlike my rubber-tipped arrows, his had sharp metal heads.

Hadn’t they said rubber tips were mandatory to prevent killing?

“Did you bring these arrows from your family?”

“No, that’s forbidden. You saw that guy earlier trying to use his own weapon—it was chaos.”

“We received these from the knights. Is there an issue?”

Raquelle, too, seemed to have received the same arrows.

So men were given real weapons while women got rubber-tipped ones. Shaking my head disapprovingly, I handed the arrow back to Elian.

“It seems I’ve been given toy arrows for a so-called ‘safe’ competition.”

“Oh, I heard they gave safer arrows to ladies to avoid accidents. You got the safe ones too, Ophelia?”

“Why the sour face? You’re just here to make an appearance anyway.”

Their comments were infuriating yet predictable. These men viewed Ophelia Meredith as nothing more than a delicate flower trapped in a greenhouse.

I offered a curt nod as a gesture of minimal courtesy and turned back toward the weapons table. I hoped Serdel hadn’t personally sanctioned such discriminatory rules.

“I need to say something about this. Who thought up such outdated nonsense?”

As a former national fencing champion, I struggled to suppress my rising anger.

Considering the era of the Carlot Empire, it wasn’t entirely implausible. Knights were duty-bound to protect their lords and ladies with swords—but understanding the context didn’t mean accepting it.

Just then, another loud whistle pierced the air.

Everyone rushed toward the hunting grounds with their weapons, signaling the tournament’s official start.

Looking around, even the knights distributing weapons had disappeared.

Seems I missed the briefing.

“...Well then, I’ll just have to win first place and rub it in everyone’s faces.”

With burning competitiveness, I strode toward the entrance. It was time to show everyone what a former national champion could do.