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Chapter 3

Old Man With Glasses: While the first festival has long since passed into legend, there are many other stories from other years since then.

Old Man With Glasses: When my own mother was a child, a traveling mercenary joined the festival on a whim and easily defeated every young competitor in the whole village!

Man Wearing a Straw Hat: That's right! I heard my grandfather was nearly beaten to a pulp. And he was real strong, too! 

Man Wearing a Straw Hat: I'm not sure... But I think his name was Reynold, or something?

Old Man With Glasses: No, it was Alex. At least, that's what my mother told me.

Old Woman With Crooked Back: You're both wrong! It was someone with... Black hair, and red eyes... A God of War. Saw 'im with my own eyes. 

Akira: (Black hair and red eyes...? Certainly not Lennox...?) 

Mitile: Ah, so you've been holding this festival for a long time!

Sturdy-Looking Man: Yeah, we sure have! Although, recently…

The villagers' words trailed off as they looked towards the houses lining the street. 

There are numerous people ambling about, probably due to the street being so well-developed for Southern Country.

Young people carried armfuls of stone tablets, only occasionally offering us tepid, uninterested glances. 

Young Man Wearing Shirt: Are the elders all meeting up again?

Daughter With Pigtails: They must be talking about the Festival of Strength. Do they never get tired of it, since only old people show up every year? 

Young Man Wearing Boots: But what's with those three other guys? I don't think I've ever seen them before.

Young Man Wearing Shirt: Well.. Their clothes are pretty stylish, maybe from the City of Clouds or Central Country? Haa, must be nice...

Young Man Wearing Boots: Don't sigh like that. You shouldn't be jealous of cities, not when we're gonna make this village into one.

Young Man Wearing Shirt: Yeah... I guess you're right. Okay, let's go over more of what we learned today. 

The younger people left, talking animatedly with each other. With grim faces, the villagers sighed.

Sturdy-Looking Man: ... Just like that, all young people these days care about is studying.

Old Man With Glasses: Our old frontier path that runs past the city was widened into a major road more than a decade ago. 

Old Man With Glasses: And while it made it easier to travel between here and Central Country, it brought a lot of trendy, big-city merchants into our village...

As they heard endless rumors of the bustling, developed cities in Western and Central countries, the youth began to dream of turning their little village into a major city, and dedicated themselves to studying hard to raise their rank in the world.

As a result, the tendency to praise others for their physical strength fell out of style, and they eventually lost interest in continuing the Strongarm's Mettle.

The younger villagers now do not hesitate to call the festival "outdated". 

Sturdy-Looking Man: That's considered outdated?

Sturdy-Looking Man: I guess it's true that, if you study hard and get rich, you could spend that on building bigger buildings and farms. 

Sturdy-Looking Man: But it's our bodies, our hard-earned muscles, that cut the columns to support those buildings, and clear out the vast expanses of land to make fields. 

Sturdy-Looking Man: The young'uns don't get why we have to keep this tradition!

Old Man with a White Beard: Yeah, yeah! They keep saying "this year is not the time for stupid festivals after all the damage we've withstood" and all that...

Old Man with a White Beard: The damage was caused by that damned Great Calamity! I think we need a traditional festival to unite all of us! 

Villagers: Hear, hear!

The villagers pumped the air righteously with their fists. However, their faces still looked slightly downtrodden.

Akira: (...They look more sad than angry.  The festival they've honored for so long isn't being valued...)

Mitile: …

Sturdy-Looking Man: …However! 

Sturdy-Looking Man: Now, here comes Mithra and the son of Tiletta! It must be destiny!

Sturdy-Looking Man: Both of you must help restore the festival! The young'uns will remember the magnificence of the festival, and the legend, which everyone has heard at least once, will be revived!

Villagers: Yaaay!

The villagers appeared excited. But Mithra scratched at his arm lazily.

Mithra: I don't want to. It seems too troublesome.

Mitile: B-but, Mister Mithra, aren't you sad seeing Mother's fabled festival fade away?

Mitile: The festival must be a nostalgic time for you, too, right?

Mithra: Wrong. I don't even consider it a memory. I had all but forgotten it until today.

Mitile: Come on, at least try to remember! Even if you don't miss it, I will!

Mitile: That's why... I'll help you all!

Villagers: Wow...!

Mithra: Ha? What are you saying? Master Sage, please talk some sense into him.

Akira: Well... If Mitile wants to do his best, then I want to support him too. 

Akira: I understand the feeling of wanting to preserve as much as you can of your loved ones...

Mithra: Well, I don't understand. It helps no one. 

Akira: (Ah...)

Man with a Straw Hat: If Tiletta's son is willing to help us, we'll have the strength of an army!

Sturdy-Looking Man: Yeah! We need to make the costumes and food for the festival more extravagant than ever before!

Mitile: Oh, then I can talk to Mister Chloe and Mister Nero about it when I get back to the Magic Manor!

Mitile: They're two of the Sage's wizards, a tailor and a chef. 

Lady Wearing an Apron: Tailors and cooks! They must be fancy professionals from the big city. I'm sure all the young villagers will be delighted!

Old Man with a White Beard: Then the centerpiece of the festival has to be just as over-the-top!

Sturdy-Looking Man: I got it! How about a recreation of the beginning of the festival, a fight between Elder and the son of Tiletta!?

Mitile: Huh!? Me!?

Man With a Straw Hat:  What a great idea! We need to talk to the elders right away!

[Screen fades to black and back]

We found ourselves visiting a small, soot-stained house on the outskirts of the village with the others.

Mithra: ...Mm? Why are we following these strangers?

Mitile: T-To be honest, it was kind of a spur of the moment, but… I wanted to meet the wizard who fought my mother.

Akira: (The wizard who has been protecting the village all these years, the one who fought against the Witch of the North... Maybe he's retired by now?)

Akira: (Similar to Figaro, a former Northern Wizard, and Lennox, a former soldier...)

Sturdy-Looking Man: Heeey! Elder!

The leader of our group knocked on the door several times. After a long moment, the door slowly creaked open.

Mitile: ...Huh!?

Shuffling out, using his broom as a walking stick, was what appeared to be a lanky, feeble old man.

He was just barely shorter than Mitile. He cocked his head, blinking his eyes at all the burly villagers lined up in front of him.

Akira: (He's a much cuter old man than what I imagined!)

The man explained everything to the elder in a loud and clear voice. Meanwhile, Mitile quietly approached another villager.

Mitile: Uh... Um, is the Elder healthy enough to participate in Strongarm's Mettle? I'm scared he might break a bone or something... 

Man with a Straw Hat: Don't you worry about that! The Elder's looked like this since my grandpa was a baby.

Man with a Straw Hat: In fact, I heard he looked like this when he fought Tiletta.

Mitile and Akira: Really...?

Though we were flustered, beside us, Mithra was simply staring at the Elder.

Mithra's eyes, previously as placid as an ice-cold lake, were suddenly scrutinizing the Elder, like a beast appraising its prey.