The surprisingly heated debate was finally over.
Using epithets for Tier III and Tier IV was approved without any major objections.
However, the proposal to make epithet rights universal rather than species-specific was voted down by a majority.
Well, that can't be helped, I suppose.
But if it had passed, Pakira and the others, Axe and the rest—they'd all have gotten epithets too.
It wouldn't just be party names anymore.
Hmm. If it were Pakira, what kind of epithet would she get?
Let's see… "White Cat Princess"? Or "White Cat Sky"? And Axe… what would his be?
Maybe "Scrap-Meat Cook" for Hoss.
As for me—nah. I ate lunch while mulling over things like that.
Then it was off to the arena.
The arena is the main attraction of Hydrangea Grand Hall.
Duels, chariot races, and all sorts of other events are apparently held there regularly.
Visually, it's a dead ringer for the colosseum from my past life memories.
The arena was packed to the gills and incredibly noisy.
What's all this? A tidal wave of people, more than you'd think possible from any direction.
"Come on—hurry up, hurry up—"
Chive grabbed me and dragged me to the VIP box area.
It was on the third level of the arena, offering a sweeping view of everything below.
Rows of VIP seats prepared for the First-Rank delvers stretched out before us.
Twenty-seven in total,
Attendants—
didn't get seats.
Chive kept herding me along, gesturing toward the seat beside his.
"Is... is this really okay?"
"They're empty, so—totally fine."
Sure enough, most of the twenty-seven seats were vacant. The one I ended up in belonged to the Witch.
The Witch had headed home on business, and Munieka had moved to the annex under her maid contract with Tasan.
Shiro had gone back to her room—said she wasn't interested.
The exhibition match of First-Rank delvers was open to anyone who wanted to watch.
And yet almost nobody came. Arveld wasn't here either.
"Oh, Wof."
"Emmy. Good afternoon."
"Yes, lovely weather today."
With a soft "oof," Emmy settled into the seat in front of mine.
She'd probably come to watch Ence's promotion ceremony.
Her belly... was pretty swollen. I hoped she'd be all right. Chive, on the other hand, was watching with obvious fascination.
"Whoa—every time I see it, that belly is incredible. You've got a baby in there, huh?"
"That's right. And not just one—twins."
"Both of them!?"
"A-are they okay?"
"Yes, they've entered the safe period, so it's fine."
"Um, what about Axe?"
"She said she wasn't coming, but I think she's around somewhere. You know how she is."
"...Yeah, I guess."
It was complicated, but if anyone would come to see them, it'd be Axe.
"Oh my, if it isn't Wof."
"Arifa. Hello."
"Come to think of it,"
"attendant,"
"were you?"
"Yes. Congratulations on Agaro's promotion."
"Ahaha, oh stop it. But well, that idiot made it to Rank I, huh. Kind of embarrassing, honestly."
Arifa looked somewhat embarrassed.
"What are you talking about? You were celebrating until late last night."
The one who said that from behind Arifa was a large woman with red hair and an eyepatch.
Fawn — a striking beauty who bore a certain resemblance to Arifa.
She looked at me and grinned.
"So you're the Wof I've been hearing about."
"H-hello there."
"I'm Doralof. Doralof Flametongue."
"She's our aunt."
"Auntie—"
"Call me big sister."
She laughed heartily. She really had that fun-relatives-aunt vibe.
"'The Dragon-Eyed Heroine'—what she's most famous for is wielding the pseudo-deity Relic, the Ancient Dragon."
"Pseudo-deity..."
Someone other than Juicy, then. And not just any ordinary dragon, either.
Ancient Dragon... an ancient wyrm.
Doralof glanced at Chive, who had spoken, with a look of suspicion.
"That's rich, coming from the black beast."
"You're nothing but a big lizard, so your marriage prospects are—"
"Want me to burn you?"
"Then how about I turn you into emerald scraps?"
Chive drew an emerald sword, and flames flickered at the corners of Doralof's mouth.
And then killing intent exploded outward. The surroundings descended into chaos. W-what do we do?
"You two, that's enough. We're about to begin."
The one who spoke was an elderly gentleman who wore a silk top hat with effortless style.
A distinguished gentleman in a crisp black suit, white-haired and well-kept for his age.
"Gravis."
"Haaah, well, if the old man says so, I guess there's no helping it."
"Ho ho ho ho! The opening ceremony is about to begin."
The elderly gentleman settled into his seat with a gentle "up we go," setting his walking stick aside.
Chaibe and Draloff obediently took their seats as well.
I had no idea who they were or where they were from, but they'd been a help.
As I watched, trumpets blared triumphantly.
Once they started repeating "Silence!" over and over, the arena fell quiet.
Alhazad-Abramirin took center stage in the arena.
"From this moment forward — let the Great Obraunds commence!"
As soon as the declaration was made, thunderous cheers shook the arena to its foundations.
It was already well underway, so why bother making a grand declaration now?
Chaibe rested his cheek on his fist and muttered, looking thoroughly unimpressed.
"Haaah, same old showmanship."
"Ah, so that's what it is."
"Well, what's the harm? Boring meetings have nothing to do with them."
"That's true."
In its earliest days, it wasn't even called the "Great Obraunds."
It was simply called a meeting or a gathering — and meetings were all that took place.
People gathered quietly and dispersed quietly. That's all it was.
But once they named it the "Great Obraunds," they started adding theatrical flair.
The reasons were varied, but one was financial trouble.
By adding festival-like, spectacle-driven business elements, they reaped enormous profits.
And that is the Great Obraunds as it continues to this day.
"Now, we shall begin the promotion ceremony. Agaro. Megadia Megalopolis. Ence Highland. The three called, step forward."
Just as instructed, the three came out.
They knelt before Alhazard Abramirin.
He held a staff of pure white metal.
At its tip was mounted a large crystal ball.
He raised the staff.
"All delvers. All Delvers' Guilds. And at their apex, the Grand Guild. I, Alhazard Abramirin, Grand Guild Master, hereby approve."
The crystal ball on the staff blazed with light.
"That staff?"
"Ah, that's the ceremonial Relic. The 'Staff of Radiance,' I think? And that light is harmless."
"…It's for show, isn't it?"
"Mm, yeah, pretty much."
Well, I guess having something like that is a good thing.
"Agaro. Megadia Megalopolis. Ence Highland. I promote you to Rank I delvers and formally commission you. Continue to explore in pursuit of the great dreams you each hold in your hearts. Great Glory!"
From the crystal ball, a beam of light shot skyward.
High above, it burst apart, scattering into a glittering cascade of countless motes of light.
The arena buzzed with murmuring. The light vanished upon being touched.
"May you be blessed."
Alhazard spoke in a chanting tone and lowered his staff.
At the same time, the three of them rose and bowed.
"With this, the promotion ceremony is concluded."
A roar of cheers even louder than before genuinely shook the arena.
Well then, it was finally time for the exhibition match.
"Tuhah" Tuhah versus "Sea Chief" Gymnema Sylvestre.
A man with an afro, star-shaped sunglasses, and a flashy, bizarre outfit worn with absolute confidence. Tuhah.
A man in a tuxedo with a whole fish serving as his headpiece. Gymnema Sylvestre.
From the looks of it, this was a showdown between two eccentrics no matter how you sliced it.
"Hehehe~ Wof. Watch their fight real carefully~ It's gonna be good~"
Chive grinned with a mischievous look.
I was already thinking it sounded interesting enough, but I gave a small nod anyway.