From the stands of the amphitheater, Riveria could do nothing but watch her companions fight.
As a mage, it was difficult for her to gain the upper hand in a form of combat like one-on-one duels.
Anyone would think so, and Riveria herself had long since understood and accepted it.
"Damn..."
Still, she could not help the discomfort lingering in one corner of her heart.
It was not simply because she was a proud princess. As both an adventurer and an elf, what greater shame and humiliation could there be than merely watching her companions fight with the resolve to die?
What had she felt when Finn suffered a critical injury while fighting an adventurer equivalent to Level 3 in the second round? Or when Ian emerged from the blood mist in the first round, drenched in blood?
At every such moment, Riveria felt as though her heart were being torn apart.
She hated her own helplessness.
Even if her combat ability were greater than it was now, it was not as if Finn and Ian would have emerged unscathed.
But having no choice but to watch her companions fight desperately because of her own weakness, only to suffer grave injuries in the process...
It became a shame as immense as a mountain, weighing down on Riveria.
Shame.
There had never been a greater shame in her life, nor would there ever be one.
Enraged by an indescribable sense of humiliation, Riveria clenched her fist so tightly that blood seeped from her hand.
"What is the point of hurting yourself when you are not even fighting?"
"Ian, since when were you..."
"I just got here. Loosen your grip already, will you?"
You are going to tear up that pretty skin of yours.
Though one of his arms could not have been in good shape, Ian stood behind Riveria as usual, arms folded and leaning onto one leg as he looked at her as though she were pathetic.
A thought suddenly occurred to her: perhaps there was at least a little concern mixed into that gaze.
That delinquent human? Worried about me?
Riveria scoffed at the absurdity of it, but Ian truly was concerned about her.
Why, exactly?
"Everyone is working hard to keep you from having to fight. Why not at least cheer them on?"
"You expect me to cheer when I cannot even fight? How could someone who knows shame do such a thing?"
"Ah, well... is that so? A very proud reason, I suppose."
Riveria's barbed rebuke was, as always, ordinary enough to Ian that there was no reason for him to be hurt by it. But it was not ordinary for Riveria herself.
"Ha... I apologize. I should not speak to you that way."
"...Huh? Uh... it is fine. Well..."
The apology itself was surprising enough, but what truly flustered Ian was the moisture gathering in Riveria's jade-colored eyes.
She cries, too. Well, of course she does. She is a person, after all.
To Ian, Riveria had always been a woman as steadfast as an ancient tree.
A mature and wise person who never broke, who was never cowed by any hardship.
But Riveria was still delicate and immature.
Then again, by human standards, Riveria was still a young woman in her early twenties.
Ian, whose mind was already in his mid-thirties, possessed far greater mental resilience.
Besides, Ian had unintentionally been given opportunities to temper his mind.
"...No, well... you do not need to take it so much to heart."
"How could I not?"
"Everything was only for the sake of our Familia. There is no reason for you to feel especially guilty. How many times have we made it safely back from the Dungeon thanks to you?"
Ah, Porit.
I finally understand you now.
Was this why, back when we were less than ten years apart in age, you cherished me so dearly?
Wanting to care for someone who still possessed a young self was a kind of inexplicable instinct.
It was not paternal affection...
But something similar to it.
Leaning against the railing, Ian looked bitterly up at the sky.
For some reason, the sky was exceptionally blue today.
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