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“Sir Zenos, you should come to the stage,” Lynga added.

“Indeed. If anyone should make opening remarks, it’s Zenos,” Loewe agreed.

“Huh? Me?” Zenos asked, pointing at himself in shock as people around him began to cheer. “Man... I’m not a big fan of being the center of attention, though...”

“It’s a special occasion,” Lily pointed out. “Maybe you should go.”

With Lily’s encouragement, Zenos walked to the stage with resigned steps. After a grand round of cheering and applause from the attendees, he cleared his throat. “Uhh...” Well. Crap. He hadn’t been expecting this, and so he couldn’t think of anything to say. “Let’s see. Try not to get hurt—” He stopped midsentence, then shook his head slightly. With a deep breath, he continued, “Never mind. I’ll heal any minor injuries, so knock yourselves out!”

The audience erupted into thunderous cheers.

Afterward, Lynga went on to briefly explain the festival. There were games at several booths, and the winner would be decided based on their total score, with the first-place prize being an item of the winner’s choice.

“Have fun, drink, eat!” Loewe said. “Dance the night away. Game to your hearts’ content. Enjoy yourselves however you want!”

With that, the attendees dispersed to do as they pleased, and the first night festival of the slums had officially begun.

“Phew. We managed to get it started,” Zophia said, relieved.

“Now all we can do is pray it all ends smoothly,” Loewe remarked, similarly relieved.

“Hey, Zophia, Loewe,” Lynga interjected. “I have an idea.”

“Yeah?” the lizardwoman replied.

“Oh, this must be good,” the orc said.

The werewolf nodded slowly, then said solemnly, “Winners in the games get to pick their prize. How about we make the right to confess to Sir Zenos the prize?” Zophia and Loewe stared wide-eyed at Lynga, who narrowed her gaze. “It’s about time we decide who gets to have Sir Zenos. He would likely not appreciate a series of duels, but he wouldn’t object to us competing at games, right?”

After a moment of silence, Zophia and Loewe spoke up. “Huh. That’s a surprisingly good idea, Lynga,” the lizardwoman said, licking her lips. “Sounds fun. I’m in.”

“Ha!” Loewe then exclaimed, cracking her knuckles. “I’ll show you two what I’m made of.”

“O-Oh no,” stammered Lily, who happened to pass by the stage. “This won’t be easy...” She hurriedly rushed over to Zenos and the translucent Carmilla.

“Well, then,” the healer said with a carefree expression, “let’s just relax and enjoy the night.”

Lily shook her head vigorously. “Sorry, Zenos. I can’t just relax and enjoy myself anymore.”

“Huh?”

“I can’t afford to lose this battle,” she declared. With a deep breath, she crouched down and stalked off, on the prowl for game booths with the stealthy steps of a skilled assassin.

“What even is happening?”

Carmilla chuckled. “I could not say, but I have a feeling this will be great fun.”

Suddenly, the festival’s cheerful atmosphere shifted, and a secret battle between the women ignited quietly.

***

The first stall Zenos’s group and the demi-human leaders went to was an archery booth, manned by lizardmen. Using a small bow and arrow, players aimed at a target, scoring more points the closer the arrow landed to the bull’s-eye. Each player had three shots, and the player with the highest total score won.

“Hey, there,” Zophia said. “Mind if I borrow a bow?”

“You’re playing, boss?” the lizardman at the front asked.

“Yeah. Things happened, and I can’t afford to lose, see.” Deftly, she nocked the arrows, took aim, and released them with precision. All three of the arrows whooshed through the air and struck the center of the target. Her subordinates all cheered loudly at their boss’s incredible display of skill. “Ha! Easy.”

“I won’t lose to the likes of you!” Lynga said with a grunt, stepping forward for her turn. Despite her bravado, however, only two of the arrows hit the center, the third missing the bull’s-eye. The werewolf slumped to her knees in disappointment. “Ugh! I’m just not used to bows! Making a game like this is unfair, Zophia!”

“The booth guys decided what the game would be, not me,” Zophia pointed out. “Besides, archery is a pretty standard festival game, no?”

Loewe laughed heartily as she stepped forward. “That’s too bad, Lynga. My turn.” The bowstring, however, readily snapped under her excessive strength. “Ngh! What the...?!”

“Oh, dear,” Zophia said. “How unfortunate, Loewe. You can’t shoot without a bowstring.”

Lynga snickered. “Loewe gets zero points! Looks like I still have a big lead!”

“What did you say?!” Loewe bellowed in frustration. She grabbed the arrows directly and hurled them at the target. Two of them loudly crashed straight through the bull’s-eye, the impressive feat of strength drawing surprised gasps from the onlookers.

“Hmph. You’re tenacious, I’ll give you that,” Zophia grumbled before posing triumphantly. “But I’m still in the lead!”

“Not so fast,” Lynga interjected, gnashing her teeth. “This fight isn’t over yet.”

“That’s right,” Loewe said, clenching her jaw. “I’ll turn the tables in no time.”

“Why are they all going so hard at it?” asked Zenos, standing behind the trio with his arms crossed.

Carmilla chuckled. “Why indeed, I wonder?”

“M-My turn!” Nervously, Lily stepped forward. However, despite pulling the bowstring with all her might, she couldn’t get the arrow to even reach the target, and her first shot scored no points. She clenched her fists, grumbling in frustration.

“Uh, Lily?” Zenos said. “You know you don’t have to push yourself, right?”

“I can’t afford to lose this battle,” the girl repeated.

“Hello? Are you listening?”

“O heavens, O earth, heed the whispers of the wind... All ye elements of the air...” she chanted under her breath, her words making the air around her swirl slightly.

“Oh? Wind magic?” Carmilla said, grinning wickedly. “Elves are known to possess immense magical powers from birth, after all. Hee hee... Truly this is a heated conflict of clashing skills and pride!”

“This is a festival game, right?” Zenos asked, cocking his head.

As Lily finished casting Gust, her arrows, carried by the wind, hit the bull’s-eye. “Hi-yah!”

“Uh... Lily?”

Are sens