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After the opening ceremony, a massive water mirror rose above the Colosseum, and the tournament bracket was revealed through projection magic.

The scene was also shared with us backstage via a viewing panel.

“Our team, Reinforce, is up in the first match.”
“Being the very first match… it’s kind of nerve-wracking.”

Alfe’s voice trembled slightly. She still managed a smile like always, but it was easy to tell she was under quite a bit of pressure.

“…But hey, we got lucky.”
“What makes you say that?”
“’Cause we’re in the opposite block from the student council team, right?”

Just as Vannabelle pointed out, our bracket was completely separate from that of Estea and the Canalford student council team.

“Don’t look so grim, Leafa. At least we won’t be knocked out in the first or second round.”

Still, that also meant the only way to settle things with Estea was by making it to the final. Whether that could truly be called “lucky” was up for debate.

“I had no intention of losing to begin with, so it does not matter where we meet.”

Hom’s dependable declaration wiped away the unease I’d been feeling. Honestly… it seemed I’d still been looking at her with overly protective eyes. The Hom who’d lost confidence after her defeat to Estea might no longer be here. The one standing before me now had trained hard and was beginning to carry a new confidence—one forged for the sake of victory.

“Nyaha! Then let’s both make it through the first round!”

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who sensed Hom’s growth. Farah beamed and raised her hand high for a high-five.

“We’re rooting for youuu~!”

With both hands, Numelin enthusiastically patted and tapped Hom’s hands over and over in encouragement—until Vannabelle suddenly cut between them.

“Don’t you dare lose before you get to us, at the very least!”
“Gladly.”

Come to think of it, both our team and Vannabelle’s were on the opposite side of the bracket from the student council.

“If we keep winning, that means we’ll eventually have to fight Farah’s group, huh.”

As she realized this, Alfe traced her finger along the bracket displayed on the viewing panel.

“If everything goes smoothly, we’ll face Vannabelle’s team in the third match—the semifinals.”

I nodded and once again followed the bracket with my eyes.

Our first-round opponents were a team called Lord of Lords. No matter who they were, I had no intention of losing—but we’d have to stay sharp going in.

Leaving the panel behind, we made our way toward our respective mechas. Not long after we started moving, Hom quietly sidled up beside me.

“…Master.”
“What is it, Hom? Starting to feel nervous?”

When I asked, she shook her head and looked straight into my eyes.

“You’ve already taken care of that for me, from the very beginning.”

If that was true, then I could think of only one reason why Hom—after all that training and mock battles—would be bringing something up now.

“…You’re talking about the plan for our first match?”
“Yes. Though I’m not sure it’s worthy of being called a ‘plan’…”

She nodded in response, then came to a stop. Looking back and forth between me and Alfe, she finally spoke.

“For this fight… if possible, I would like to take it on alone.”
“There are three Löwe units on the enemy team, though. Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own, Hom?”

Alfe blinked in surprise at Hom’s request.

“I’ve observed their mock battles several times from afar.”

Given Hom’s eyesight, she would have been able to observe them in sufficient detail. If she still wanted to fight alone after that, then she was likely hoping to secure as much combat time as possible.

“We didn’t have time to run full mock battles after Altered was completed. You want to see how much power it can really output—not just basic functionality. Is that right?”
“Yes. I’d like to use this match to make the final adjustments.”

It seemed I was right, as a faint smile appeared on Hom’s face. That said, we were a team, and I wanted to respect Alfe’s opinion as well. Being more prone to worry than most, Alfe wouldn’t want to stand by while Hom risked getting hurt.

“…What do you think, Alfe?”
“I’m worried, but… if Hom’s okay, then I want to see her fight the way she wants to. And besides, if we want to win the whole thing, we’ve got to start thinking ahead to the next match too.”

Her answer was half what I expected—and half not. We were aiming for victory. We had promised as much. But I hadn’t really thought through what kinds of strategies that might require.

“I think you’re right. Could you tell me a bit more about your thinking?”
“I want to conserve as much magic as I can until we face Senior Melua. Of course, only if it doesn’t put too much of a burden on you and Hom.”
“I agree. Depending on who we face in round two, that might be the smart call. Unlike me, you have a limit to how much magic you can use.”

Even though her magic staff could amplify her output, piloting a mecha powered by her own aether while also casting Multi-Vision spells would be a first for Alfe—and it would definitely take a toll.

“We’ll go with Hom’s plan for the first match. But if you ever feel in danger, you must call for help. That instinct should be deeply ingrained in you by now.”
“Thank you, Master. Thank you, Lady Alfe.”

Hom bowed deeply with a warm smile. Even that smile carried a sense of her growth.