The weight of their disapproval was bearing down heavily on him. Ayato awkwardly rubbed his head.

A week had passed since Ayato had won his duel against Kirin to become the top-ranked fighter at Seidoukan Academy. Requests like these were quite common now—not to mention letters and gifts from fans, interviews with the media, all sorts of offers from corporations, and even anonymous threats and harassment. It seemed like anything was permitted.

Fortunately for him, the school had its own department to handle these things, and he had left everything to them. But when people like the girl from before reached out to him directly, he had no choice but to deal with it.

“Come on, you two. No need to get so upset at every little thing. An unlisted unknown rose to the top out of nowhere, after all. Of course he’s gonna get some attention,” Eishirou said with a lackadaisical grin and slurped up his soba noodles.

There was almost no precedent in the history of Seidoukan Academy of an unlisted fighter taking top rank. The rules for official matches made it all but impossible.

For the monthly standoffs, students were separated into three tiers. The first tier consisted of the highest ranks, otherwise known as Page One; the second of lower-ranked fighters, dubbed the Named Cult; and at the bottom of the heap were the unranked—the “unlisted.”

Although a ranked combatant was not permitted to refuse a challenge from a lower-ranked one, fighters could only challenge up to one tier above. In other words, to challenge a Page One, being in the Named Cult was a prerequisite. The only way for an unlisted to leap to Page One was by winning in an ordinary duel. Those at the top, however, tended to be the most cautious about engaging in duels. This was only natural, considering how much they had to lose.

“That’s true,” Kirin said, agreeing with Eishirou. “I was lucky to jump up to Page One by winning a duel myself—and even then I only took eleventh place. Maybe it sounds odd for me to say, but Ayato shooting all the way to first place is much more dramatic.”

In Seidoukan’s ranking system, the winner and loser switched standings, making Kirin now unlisted. But she was in the so-called “grace period,” a provision designed to soften the blow of dropping suddenly in the rankings. During the grace period, students were guaranteed the same privileges that their prior rank had afforded them. In addition, in the first official match following their loss, they were allowed to challenge any student below their former rank.

“As I recall, Princess, there was a similar fuss when you made Page One,” Eishirou teased.

“Perhaps, but this sort of thing is temporary,” replied Julis in all seriousness. “It didn’t last nearly as long for me.”

“Well, sure. You gave the royal cold shoulder to absolutely everyone. Of course things cooled off fast.”

“Unfortunately for them, it just isn’t in me to indulge that kind of behavior. I’m happy people support me, but I have no interest in letting others use me for their own gain. Personally, I think refusing all the attention was the most honest way to handle it. See?” Julis took out her mobile device to open an air-window.

“A Net auction…? Wh—Hey!” Ayato exclaimed at the rows of all his autographs. He wasn’t sure how to feel about the exorbitant price tags.

For a moneymaking scheme, it wasn’t particularly sophisticated—but still, it came as a bit of a shock.

“That’s a pretty popular way for students to make a quick buck. Happens all the time,” Eishirou said from behind Ayato, consoling him with a pat on the shoulder.

“Yeah, don’t mind them,” Saya added. “You have fans who are cheering you on, for real. Like me.”

“Th-that’s right!” Kirin chimed in. “You have some supporters in my class. And me, too…”

Julis grinned boldly. “Hmm. You say that now, but what if you get matched against us in the Phoenix?”

Kirin had agreed to Saya’s suggestion that they sign up together as a reserve for the Phoenix, which had come as a surprise to Ayato. Regardless, another team had withdrawn from the competition yesterday, and now they were officially enrolled.

“…Obviously, we’ll give it all we’ve got,” Saya replied.

“Yes. My feelings exactly,” Kirin said. “The Phoenix is a different matter altogether.”

The pair responded with piercing eye contact.

Julis chuckled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“To be honest, though, I’d rather not have to fight you two,” Ayato remarked.

Ayato and Julis had been training almost daily for the tag matches with Saya and Kirin. Their record was only about half and half during their regulated scrimmages.

Saya and Kirin were so well synced with each other that it was hard to believe they had only just recently teamed up. They would make formidable opponents in the tournament.

“You all seem to be in high spirits. That’s good,” Claudia said with a soft laugh, smiling serenely as ever.

“We haven’t seen you in days, Claudia,” Julis said. “You must be terribly busy.”

“Oh, yes. The work for the Festa just keeps piling up.” Claudia opened an enormous air-window above the table. “But the bracket for the Phoenix was just announced, and I thought I would come let you know.”

All eyes turned to the display. Lines extended from the throng of names to form a towering bracket resembling a giant castle.

“Whoa… That’s a ton of people,” Ayato said.

There were 512 contestants, or 256 teams, registered for the Phoenix. Ayato knew the numbers, but the mass of names before his eyes was intimidating.

“Um, let’s see, we’re… Oh, there we are! Block L!” Kirin said.

“Hmm, and we are…Block C,” Julis said. “It looks like we won’t have to square off until the main tournament.”

The Phoenix was held over roughly two weeks. The first half, popularly known as the preliminary rounds, decided the top thirty-two teams. These rounds formed the massive bracket in front of Ayato and his friends. Later, a lottery would sort those thirty-two pairs into a new bracket. This latter half was considered the main tournament, where the competitors could earn points for their respective schools.

“Did you really come here just to show us this, Claudia?” Ayato wondered.

Claudia had just mentioned she was quite busy. While it was true that the announcement of the Festa bracket did not occur at a predetermined date and time, Ayato and his friends would have seen it soon enough. There was no need for her to deliver the information personally.

“Well, you are among the favorites, after all,” she replied. “I wanted you to have every possible moment to prepare.”

“Favorites? Oh, we can’t really be…” Ayato flailed in denial.

Exasperated, Eishirou flicked him in the middle of the forehead. “You doofus. One of these teams has the current top-ranked student, and the other’s got the former number one. How could you be anything but?”

“I agree. Ayato and Miss Toudou are too modest, I think. You could stand to have a little more confidence. You represent our school, after all.”

“Uh, okay…”

“We’ll try, but…”

Ayato and Kirin slumped and stared at the floor.

“There aren’t many standouts in this tournament. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if one of you really did win.” Eishirou spoke nonchalantly enough, but he was not the sort to dole out flattery lightly. “The field doesn’t appear to have any surprises. No big shots out of nowhere or anything.”

Of course, none of the schools announced their Festa contestants ahead of time. But information had a way of getting around, and much of the roster would end up matching public expectations.

“Invincible?” Ayato cocked his head.

“She probably means the Silverwinged Knights from Gallardworth for the Gryps, and the Witch of Solitary Venom from Le Wolfe for the Lindvolus.” Julis shrugged disinterestedly.

“Indeed,” Claudia went on, “those contestants won their respective Festa events by an overwhelming margin, even more than their reputations suggested. For this event, however, things seem to be just the opposite—anything could happen. Well, I suppose the Page One fighters from each school do have better odds…”

“Apparently the pair that won the last Phoenix graduated,” Eishirou said. “They aren’t in it this year. And I hear that the Jie Long team that came in second has their sights set on the Gryps.”

The depth and breadth of their knowledge was impressive. As Ayato listened with rapt attention, Claudia clapped her hands together and looked around the table.

“Regardless, I cannot overstate the strategic importance of this Phoenix tournament for the current season. It’s no exaggeration to say that the success of our school rests on your shoulders. I’m counting on you all.”

Among the six schools of Asterisk, several excelled in Festa events. St. Gallardworth was superior in the team battle Gryps, the Le Wolfe Black Institute fared well in the one-on-one format of the Lindvolus, and Seidoukan Academy shone in the tag team battles of the Phoenix. These trends were obvious from each school’s track record in its respective event.

For Seidoukan, doing well in the Phoenix was a prerequisite for placing high overall.

Jie Long Seventh Institute was strong in a variety of events, lacking a particular forte but maintaining high scores in each competition. The performance of Allekant Académie was highly variable, with their favored tournament changing from season to season, whereas the Queenvale Academy for Young Ladies consistently failed to do well in any tournament.

“Yes, Miss Sasamiya?” Naturally, Claudia responded like a teacher to Saya’s very student-like query.

“Who are the favorites from the other schools?”

“That is a good question. Although, Miss Sasamiya, am I correct in assuming that you’re only interested in the two ladies from Allekant?”

Saya’s eyebrow twitched slightly. She seemed eager to settle the score with Camilla, the Allekant student who had visited Seidoukan earlier.

“Those two are…here. Block H.” Julis quickly spotted their names in the bracket. Their placement meant that neither Ayato’s team nor Saya’s would face them until the main tournament.

“Regarding those two, there should be an announcement from the tournament Executive Committee,” Claudia said.” There’s nothing I can tell you myself.”

“Oh?” Eishirou’s eyes lit up at this cryptic remark. “Does that mean they’re another exception?”

Claudia only giggled in response.

“‘Another’?” Ayato found Eishirou’s wording curious.

“The committee is always changing the Festa regulations, or making and deleting exceptions to the rules,” Eishirou happily explained. “They say they’re trying new things, you know, but they’re just inconsistent. It’s unheard of for research students to participate in the Festa, so there must be some—”

“The Executive Committee’s top priority is to make the Festa as entertaining as possible,” Claudia interrupted. “To that end, they will try all sorts of new things, and stop doing anything they consider unprofitable. That’s all there is to it.”

That brought the subject to a close.

“Hmph,” Saya grunted, clearly dissatisfied, but did not pursue the matter. That was that, clearly.

“Um, then, do you have any information on other popular contestants…?” Kirin asked.

“Wow, this will help,” Ayato said.

He’d immediately opened the files to find information on dozens of students, complete with photos. Included were their physical traits like height and weight, as well as their records, weapons of choice and, where applicable, Orga Luxes and special abilities. There were even some video recordings of past duels.

“Oh, this is nothing. This is standard procedure for all the schools. I’m sure the others are poring over your data as we speak.”

“Yup! They say that reliable and thorough data reflects the intelligence-gathering of each school,” Eishirou chimed in playfully, although he was the only one present who had not received the files.

“Oh, I remember my uncle saying that Le Wolfe and Queenvale were especially good at this sort of thing,” Kirin said.

“Well, we just have to be ready,” Julis said as she browsed the data. She suddenly stopped on one entry and sighed. “…Ugh, I should have known. She’ll be trouble.”

“Trouble?” Ayato walked behind Julis and peeked at the air-window by her hand.

“This girl uses the Orga Lux Gravisheath,” she explained. “I don’t know what Allekant has up their sleeve, but aside from them, the most dangerous contestant in this tournament is probably her.”

“Her name is…Irene Urzaiz,” Ayato read, by the picture of a female student with a razor’s edge glare and a dauntless smile.

The central school building of the Le Wolfe Black Institute could be most succinctly described with the word fortress. It was rough and imposing, an enormous mass of metal built to project power and oppressive might.

It was true that rules were all but nonexistent in Le Wolfe, and that outsiders called it a den of mavericks. There was one imperative here, however, which always stood true: absolute submission to the strong.

In LeWolfe, power was everything, and victory was respected above all else. This value system served to temper the actions of the students. A total lack of inhibitions risked drawing the ire of someone stronger.

Another common stereotype was that LeWolfe students were all no better than a pack of violent and dangerous animals.

That, too, was a grave misunderstanding. Such a statement described only some eighty or ninety percent of the student body. Even the most conservative estimate suggested that at least ten percent of Le Wolfe aspired to complete their studies responsibly.

Korona Kashimaru, who was among that ten percent, often had the urge to shout as much at the top of her lungs. All the time, in fact, but she had never once acted on it.

“The hell are you doing, Korona? Catch up.”

“Oh, s-sorry! Coming!”

She hurriedly trotted up to the male student walking ahead of her.

The boy who had scolded her was Dirk Eberwein, the first non-Genestella in the history of the Le Wolfe Black Institute to reach the rank of student council president.

There was a tendency to cast fighters from Le Wolfe as the bad guys in the Festa, so they were not well-liked; but the most hated, the most utterly despised student at the entire Institute was none other than Dirk.

Without ever dirtying his hands, he manipulated others like pieces on a chess board to advance his plots from the shadows—or such was his reputation, which could not be any nastier. More evidence of his unpopularity lay in how other students had labeled him the Devious King, although he was not even a ranked fighter.

It was true that he had a foul mouth and a worse attitude. He was perpetually in a bad mood, and she had never seen him let the corners of his mouth soften, let alone smile. Still, Korona was indebted to him. If he was the kind of person everyone said he was, would he have bothered to take her on as his secretary? She, a talentless, airheaded girl who had entered Le Wolfe purely due to a mix-up?

Without Dirk’s protection, a helpless student like her would have wound up long ago in the lowest caste of the school, destined for nothing but exploitation.

I can’t say he’s a good person, based on the things he does. Still, I don’t think he’s as bad as everyone says he is…

Perhaps aware of Korona’s thoughts, or perhaps not, somehow Dirk walked through the dank, dreary hallway without a word. They were in a high-security area where ordinary students were not allowed to enter.

Huh? Wait, this is the way to—

The color drained from her face.

“Um, Mr. President…? Are we going…to the…?”

“What? We’re going to the penalty rooms, obviously.”

“We really are?!”

The penalty rooms were a dungeon-like space where students were punished for their extreme transgressions. It housed a collection of the worst and most violent students of Le Wolfe, where an unremarkable citizen like Korona had no reason to set foot—and she would be quite happy to keep it that way.

But Dirk passed through one security measure after another into the inner sanctum. On either side of the narrow passageway were thick walls, as if to separate rooms, but there were solely number plates with no visible doors. At the entrance, a guard had offered to accompany them only to receive a peevish refusal from Dirk. Korona had never been so frightened.

Yells and jeers and banging on walls clamoring through the passageway just added to her apprehension. A squeaky whimper escaped her.

Finally, he stopped at a certain room.

He raised his hand to the marker to bring up a console. After he punched in a pass code, the wall facing the passageway faded, then disappeared. Since the number plate itself remained suspended in midair, Korona gathered that the wall was still there, but some mechanism had made it transparent.

“Hey, you crazy broad. You alive in there?”

When Dirk called into the space, some sixty square feet, Korona could sense movement. The room had no light, and she could only vaguely see what was inside, but she made out a figure sitting against the far wall.

“I was wondering who’d visit me, and it’s you? What the hell brought you all the way down here?” The manner of speech was as uncouth as Dirk’s, but the voice was higher in pitch—a female student.

Straining her eyes, Korona was finally able to make out the figure in the dungeon.

Her hands chained to the wall, she sat in her uniform with her legs unabashedly open. She wore a long scarf wrapped around her neck, although it was summer, and the lack of a shirt beneath her jacket completed the mismatched look.

While Korona stared curiously at the girl’s unusual attire, she received a sharp glare from angular, wolfish eyes. Intimidated, she fell back a step.

“I’ve got a little favor to ask you,” Dirk said.

“Ha!” the girl scoffed loudly. “A favor? An order, you mean. If you tell me to do something I can’t exactly refuse.”

“If you’ll do it, I can let you out right now.”

“Hold up, you didn’t even bring me anything? I’m starvin’ to death over here. Although, maybe that little girl right there would do.”

“Eep!” Korona ran behind Dirk and made herself even smaller.

“Well? You wanna take the offer or not?” Dirk asked, ignoring the other student’s jeer.

“It’s nothing much. I want you to crush a Seidoukan brat. Make it so he never fights again. A duel would work fine, but the Phoenix happens to be coming up. You’ll fight him there. Korona, you took care of her registration?”

“Huh? Oh—Yes!” The sudden attention startled her, but she nodded emphatically.

She remembered filling out some registration paperwork at Dirk’s request earlier. Now she understood what it was for. It had never crossed her mind that he hadn’t spoken to the contestant first.

“You want me to fight in the Phoenix?”

“He could decline a duel, but not a Festa match,” Dirk said, then leaned in. “You should be able to get to the main tournament easily. He should, too. You’ll match up against each other sooner or later. Crush him. You don’t need to win.” The last sentence resonated like a voice from the depths of an abyss.

A chill ran down Korona’s spine.

“…But, hey, if you can win it all, then go ahead and do that, too.”

“You say it like it’s so damn easy,” the girl complained, but her shoulders shook with laughter. It made her chains jangle. “I got a few questions, though.”

“Shoot.”

“First off. If you’re after this kid, why not use the Cats? Why’d you come to me?”

“Because you’re the best choice for the Festa. Besides, the Cats are busy—both Silver Eyes and Gold Eyes. And using them would cost me.”

“Is that it?”

“The guy’s also number one at Seidoukan. If I use the Cats and they trace it back to me, there might be trouble. I want something as close to legitimate as possible for this job.”

The girl cackled. “Seidoukan’s top ranked? Are you shitting me? That’s who you want me to fight?”

“Would I ask you if I didn’t think you could pull it off?”

The girl bowed her head quietly in thought, then raised it again. “Okay, second question. Why are you after this kid?”

“Huh? What the hell’s that?”

“Seidoukan’s Orga Lux. He isn’t using it to its full potential yet, but if I leave him alone he could cause problems later. That’s why I want to crush him now.”

“Heh—an Orga Lux, huh? Must be some weapon if you’re afraid of it.”

“…Anyone who saw that thing firsthand would be,” Dirk spat under his breath. He seemed to be convincing himself rather than the girl.

“Fine. Last question—Well, more like I wanna double-check.” She fixed a penetrating gaze on him. “You haven’t let anyone touch her, have you?”

“’Course not. I always honor my contracts, you know that.” Dirk nodded, completely unaffected. Korona, on the other hand, wanted to flinch just standing near the intense exchange.

Dirk and the detainee stared each other down until the latter turned away.

“Well, it’s no fun being stuck in a place like this just for making a little scene at a casino. I’ll take the job, Dirk Eberwein.”

“Took you long enough, Urzaiz,” Dirk grumbled, looking bored, then entered another sequence into the optical keyboard.

The chains released with a clang, and Irene stood up and let out a good yawn. “Ahh… Finally,” she murmured, loudly cracking her shoulders.

She was quite tall, and her lithe and well-proportioned body called to mind a carnivorous animal.

“Now, first things first. I gotta get me something to eat.” Irene’s devilish grin revealed two long, sharp fangs.

The sight reminded Ayato of a cat, strangely endearing.

Beside them, Julis cleared her throat, looking dejected. “Well… Actually, our prep room will be available soon. We should be able to eat in there,” she said, then headed off without waiting for the other three.

“Hey, Julis! Wait up!” Obviously, they couldn’t stand in the passageway like this forever. Ayato beckoned for Saya and Kirin to follow and hurried after Julis with the lunch box in his arms.

“Whew. Thank you for lunch.” In the waiting room, Ayato finished the last rice ball and placed his palms together in appreciation.

“You’re welcome,” said Kirin, whose lunch was already gone. “Oh—Would you like some tea?”

She poured from the thermos bottle she had brought. She was very well prepared.

“Thanks, Kirin.”

“S-so, was it…?”

“Yes, it was delicious.”

Kirin’s face lit up at those words.

Indeed, while her rice balls were not shaped very well, they tasted just fine. She must have been quite anxious, as her expression now seemed to be composed of equal parts joy and relief.

“…I ate a little too much,” Saya said, lying on the sofa and rubbing her stomach.

“No wonder. If you had three or four of those giant rice balls,” Julis remarked exasperatedly beside her.

“Oh, hey—I think it’s about to start.” Ayato checked the time and turned on the TV. The prep room was quite large, able to accommodate the four of them with space to spare. Near one of the walls, an air-screen opened up.

“Hi there! I’m here at the Sirius Dome, the stage for the first fight of the Twenty-fourth Phoenix Tournament! This match will be called by yours truly—Mico Yanase, announcer for ABC. Pham Thi Tram, graduate of Jie Long Seventh Institute and current commander of Executive Aladfar, will serve as our commentator!”

“Now, not that I think there’s much need, but let’s go over the rules. Victory is decided when both members of a team have lost their school crests or consciousness, or forfeit. The school crest system will announce the outcome.”

“And there you have the main point of difference with the Gryps, where the match is decided when the team leader loses.”

The screen showed one woman with voluminous curls, and another who wore her black hair neat and short. The former seemed to be the play-by-play announcer.

“It’s almost time for the first fight. We’re in the second, so we still have some time,” Julis said.

“Oh, but there are matches going on at other arenas at the same time, right?” Ayato realized. “How do they broadcast them all?”

“There’s a broadcast channel assigned to every arena,” Julis replied tiredly. “The average viewer would choose which fight to watch, but I’ve heard some serious fans watch multiple channels at the same time.”

In the first round, there were eleven stages, and thirty-three matches every day. Although the start times were staggered somewhat, it would not be easy to absorb them all.

“…They broadcast the highlights and summary later, anyway,” Saya said, still lying down, turning to the screen with her eyes only.

“I think fans like that prefer to see everything live,” Kirin replied with a half smile. “Oh—But since you’ve been assigned to the main arena, that means that you’re considered a favorite, doesn’t it?”

“Really? It does?” Ayato said.

“Yes. The contestants who garner the most attention usually fight here,” Julis answered. “It’s only natural for a team with a top-tier student. And look…”

She gestured toward the screen with her chin. It showed the names of the tag partners scheduled to fight at the Sirius Dome.

Ernesta Kühne and Camilla Pareto, the pair from Allekant.

Without a word, Saya raised herself up and glared tersely at the screen. Her fierce resolve was almost tangible. She seemed to have some important reason for wanting to fight them.

Glancing sidelong at Saya, Julis stood and stretched from fingertips to toes. “We should worry less about opponents we may or may not face and more about the ones in front of us.”

Unable to argue with that logic, Ayato nodded in agreement.

“You’re up against knight-cadets of Gallardworth, right, Ayato?” Kirin said.

“Yes. Ranked 31 and 41, I think.”

The Page One fighters of Gallardworth were called the Silverwinged Knights, and those ranked lower in the Named Cult were considered cadets. Gallardworth was the only one of the six schools considered an “elite” institution, and their opponents had to be excellent fighters to have ranked there at all. Indeed, their data and records backed that up.

“How do you feel, Ayato? Do you think we can beat them?” Julis asked.

“Well…I’ll give it all I’ve got,” he replied. The two exchanged a look and quietly laughed.

Kirin watched them curiously. “Do you have some kind of special plan?”

“No,” Julis said, definitively shaking her head. “Just the opposite. Well…you’ll see.”

“And now, it’s time for our second bout of the day—the first match in the first round of Block C!”

The live announcement reverberated through the giant arena.

“The first two onstage are Ayato Amagiri, Seidoukan Academy’s number one, and Julis-Alexia von Riessfeld, number five! Now, Amagiri only rose to the top a few weeks ago in a duel against the former top-ranked student! He is a truly brand-new star—so new, in fact, we still don’t have much data on him ourselves! Ah, although we did hear his nickname Murakumo came from Seidoukan’s student council president, Miss Enfield, herself.”

“And he’s the only student in the Phoenix with a number one rank. Lookin’ at the videos going around of his fights, he’s pretty strong, no doubts there. This one’s gonna be interesting.”

“I watched those, too, of course, but they’re all duels, so that does leave some questions. I wish we could’ve seen him in an official match. Oh, that’s right—Amagiri wields the Ser Veresta, an Orga Lux in Seidoukan’s collection… Have you heard of it, Pham?”

“Uh-huh, that’s one of the so-called Four-Colored Runeswords. Pretty famous as weapons go, but I’ve only seen it in action in old videos. They say it’s a real difficult Orga Lux; no one’s been able to use it in the last umpteen years, so. Now the Lei-Glems is the best known of the Runeswords, but the Ser Veresta is also impossible to defend against, or so I’ve heard.”

“Mm-hmm, I see. And not only that, his tag partner is the Witch of the Resplendent Flames, Riessfeld. A team like that has got to be among the favorites!”

“Riessfeld’s diverse powers really stand out, you know. She’s probably one of the best Stregas in active competition. And I think she’ll keep improving, too. Sure would be nice to have someone like her with our organization when she graduates.”

“Well, Riessfeld is a real, actual princess! It might not be easy for her to take on work at a private military company.”

“Man, that’s too bad. Anyway, Amagiri’s the one to watch in this fight.”

“Now, as for the Gallardworth team…”

“They’re saying you’re the one to watch, Amagiri,” she whispered with a grin.

“I’m already nervous. You had to go and point that out to me?” Ayato teased back.

Julis leaned in close, amused. “Liar. I don’t see a hint of nerves. You’re as cool and collected as ever.”

“I really am. I don’t like being in the spotlight.”

“He says, standing under the brightest spotlight in the world.” Her shoulders shook with laughter.

“Well, you don’t look worried, either, Julis. Even though it’s your first time at the Festa, too.”

“Well, I am a princess. I’m used to all the attention. Oh—You should get ready.” Her joking attitude vanished, and her focus turned to the contestants ahead.

Two young men had appeared from the opposite gate, their Luxes already activated. One tall and one short, each member of the disparate duo held a sword-type Lux. At Gallardworth, swordsmanship was traditionally considered the one true path, and many students there chose swords for weapons.

Ayato drew the Ser Veresta from its holster but did not activate it.

“Oh, it’s almost time for the match! Who will emerge victorious from this battle? Seidoukan or Gallardworth? Here we go—Our second match of the day!”

As if on cue, the school crest on Ayato’s chest began to shine. Its functions during the Festa were completely automated, so there was no need to declare one’s challenge or consent as in a duel.

“Phoenix Block C, Round One, Match One— Begin!”

“Well, it’s nothing we didn’t plan for.” Julis nodded confidently with her arms crossed. She had not even drawn her Lux. “I’ll leave it to you, Ayato.”

“Got it.” He focused his prana in an instant. “By the sword within me, I break free of this prison of stars and unchain my power!”

The heightened prana broke the seal placed on him, releasing his explosive power. The Ser Veresta’s enormous blade gleamed.

“Wha…?!”

Startled by the burst of prana, the two Gallardworth students slowed. And then—a gust of wind.

“Huh?”

“Ah…!”

To the two of them, it might have looked as if Ayato simply vanished. But just a moment later, two school crests fell to the ground with a dry ting.

Ayato had dashed past the pair and sliced through their emblems with superhuman speed.

“End of battle! Winners: Ayato Amagiri and Julis-Alexia von Riessfeld!”

The automated announcement sounded over the utter silence that had descended on the arena.

It was as quiet as an empty room.

It did not last, though. Wild cheering erupted like a dam bursting to flood the arena.

“Th-that was amazing! No time for us to get a single word in! What incredible, incredible speed! What strength! An overwhelming victory, I think it’s safe to say!”

“I gotta say, pretty impressive.”

“When it comes to the raw amount of prana, he might be neck and neck with our own company president. I wonder if he’d come join us when he graduates. Bet he’d be able to go straight into the field.”

Amid the excitement and fervor, the Gallardworth team stood in stunned silence.

As Ayato walked back to Julis, feeling a little bad for their opponents, she raised her hand to greet him.

“Hmm. I expected nothing less.” She smiled proudly, and he high-fived her.

The two left the stage after a match less than ten seconds long. It was an instant victory.

“Now we’ll be interviewed as the winners. No matter what they ask you, be as vague as you can. We don’t want to give the competition anything to work with,” Julis firmly reminded him.

“Got it. But you had me worried for a bit. You didn’t even activate your weapon.”

“Oh, no need to worry. I laid traps for them with my fixed ability. If they’d stepped too close—boom.” With a fearless smirk, Julis opened her fist to mimic an explosion. “In any case, we got through the first round without revealing our combination attacks. Let’s try to keep doing that.”

Above all, they wanted to keep it hidden that Ayato’s full strength had a time limit. A few might have gleaned some idea from watching his duels, but they wanted to avoid confirming any suspicions. In fact, they would have preferred not to break the seal publicly at all, but he could run out of time if he did it before the match began. Just as they had hoped, the crowd figured it was a type of showmanship. Neither Julis nor Ayato believed they could keep the secret all the way through the Festa, but it was better to do so for as long as possible.

Round-one opponents were one thing, but against those who could compete with Ayato, teamwork was going to be the key to victory. They wanted to go for as long as possible without revealing their moves.

“We won’t run into any of the favorites during the rest of the preliminary rounds. Let’s keep our cards close as much as possible until the main tournament.” Julis’s tone was light, but her face was tense with resolve as they walked down the corridor to the press room.

“Whew. We’re back!”

“Sheesh…”

After returning to the waiting room, Ayato and Julis plopped down on the sofa in exhaustion.

“Oh! There you are!” Kirin exclaimed. “Congratulations!”

“…Why are you so tired?” Saya asked. “It was instant death for them.”

Because the two had been watching, Saya and Kirin regarded them curiously.

“Well, the match was just fine,” Ayato replied with a pained smile. “But the press conference after that…”

“The media from outside are so pushy. Compared to that, I’d much rather deal with our journalism clubs.” Looking thoroughly fed up, Julis chugged down the drink that Kirin offered her.

Indeed, the winners’ interview after the match was beyond draining. Of course the interviewers asked about Ayato’s flashy moves and the Ser Veresta, but they also inquired about his relationship with Julis and his reasons for entering the tournament. Eventually, they were hounding him for details about his private life that had nothing at all to do with the tournament, like his favorite food. The whole process dragged on for nearly an hour. By the end, it had completely drained them.

“Oh, you’re here, Eishirou.”

“Well, congrats on your first win!” Eishirou grinned and took a picture of the two with his mobile.

“Just to be clear, I only said that you were better by comparison,” Julis told him flatly. “Don’t mistake that for any sudden affection on my part.”

Eishirou shrugged theatrically. “Oh, of course. Your Highness is as severe as ever, I see.”

Ayato or Julis could grant others access to enter or leave their waiting room as they pleased. Anyone else had to be let in from the inside. Saya and Kirin were the only ones with access, so the two must have let Eishirou in.

“So, what brings you here? You didn’t come to cheer us on, did you?” Ayato asked.

It was already August, and most of the students who were not fighting in the Phoenix were on summer vacation.

Usually, gaining permission to leave Asterisk was not easy, but exceptions were made for long school breaks, and many students went home for the summer. On the other hand, many also decided to remain, as Eishirou had; the ratio was actually close to fifty-fifty.

“Well, you don’t need me in your corner against opponents like that. I’m here for the third match.”

“I see. Allekant.” Julis nodded.

“Naturally, that announcement at the opening ceremony whet my journalist’s appetite. They can say what they like, but the rule adjustment has everything to do with those two from Allekant. That’s patently obvious. So I headed right over to their waiting room, and…”

“What did you find, Yabuki?” Saya strode up and planted herself in front of him.

“Nope. Total lockdown. Security was so tight not even a mouse could sneak in. They would have slammed the door in my face, if there was a door to slam.”

“…Oh.” Saya’s shoulders drooped.

“Speaking of time,” Ayato said, “don’t Lester and Randy have their match soon?”

“Oh, yes. They were scheduled to fight in the Capella Dome, so it should be…” Kirin turned on the television and flipped through channels until the screen showed Lester’s towering frame wielding the Bardiche-Leo.

“Hmm, they’ve already started,” Julis said.

“Oh, good, it looks like they have the upper hand,” Ayato observed.

Behind Lester, Randy fired a rapid stream of arrows. They fought well as a team, perhaps because they had known each other for a good while.

“I would’ve liked to go root for them in person, if our matches were on different days,” Ayato thought out loud.

“You’d be lucky if he just chased you off,” Julis teased. “It’s better this way.”

“…They are pretty good, though,” Saya said, impressed with Randy’s marksmanship.

“Well, MacPhail is a Page One, after all. And Randy Hooke used to be a ranked fighter. He’s no slouch, either,” Eishirou said.

“Their opponents are from Allekant,” Kirin commented.

Lester’s physical prowess was overwhelming both of his adversaries. He was in his element here. Randy provided superb ranged support himself, pinning down their competition as they tried to escape Lester’s range of attack.

While the group gave their full attention to the match, suddenly a rumbling roar reached them through the walls.

“Wha…?!” They looked at one another in surprise, but then identified the noise.

It was cheering.

“Aw, crap! It started already?!” Eishirou hurried to open another air-screen.

They knew there could only be one reason for the crowd’s enthusiasm.

Just as the five in the waiting room had expected, the screen showed two figures—not humans, but humanoid machines.

“What the hell…?!” Even Gerd’s voice, usually so composed, shook with apprehension.

He adjusted his distance from Rimcy, looked for an opening, fired a hail of bullets—But none reached their target.

“Thirty more seconds.” Ardy’s voice recalled Moritz’s attention from his partner’s battle to his own.

Ardy and Rimcy were both exclusively on the defensive, true to their word. What would happen when they switched to offense…?

Moritz focused his prana and let out a ferocious roar, as if to shout away his fear.

All I have to do is beat them before our time is up!

A violent wind whipped around with Moritz at its center, then gathered into a twisting tornado. The same as the Borea Spira, its tip resembled the exposed point of a giant power drill.

The air in the arena shook, and the crowd murmured.

“Borea Mordent!”

This was Moritz’s ace in the hole, his last resort. Not only was it hard to control, requiring a vicious cost in prana, it was slow and easy to evade, so this was not a move he used very often. But in his opinion, its capacity for destruction was unrivaled at Le Wolfe.

“Take this, if you can!” Moritz swung his arm, and the tornado writhed like a serpent toward Ardy.

As with his previous attacks, the barrier appeared to block it. Sparks flew as if from a small explosion, and a shrill noise like metal scraping against metal pierced his ears.

Even then, Ardy did not move.

With another furious roar, Moritz poured every last bit of prana he had into the Borea Mordent.

And still the wall of light did not waver.

The tornado jerked violently like a raging dragon, but slowly the wind weakened and the revolution slowed.

Ardy stared down at him, then abruptly uncrossed his arms and opened his mouth. “One minute.”

As he spoke, he activated a Lux in his hand, and an enormous hammer as long as his body materialized. The head was as wide as Moritz’s wingspan.

“It is time!”

Ardy walked up to Moritz with slow, heavy footsteps, then effortlessly lifted the hammer.

Crumpled on the ground, Moritz looked up at the weapon. He could do nothing but smile, his face taut with terror.

He glanced sideways to find Gerd already prone.

“You monsters,” he muttered as the hammer fell.

“End of battle! Winners—Ernesta Kühne and Camilla Pareto!”

The automated voice rang over the stunned silence in the arena. Not a single person in the audience could utter a sound.

Moments later, the medical staff from the therapy center rushed in with panicked footsteps and ashen faces to carry away Moritz and Gerd.

And finally, cheers and applause fell on the stage like a storm.

“Now, that—that was something! It took only one minute to decide the match! Well, I should say, the time itself isn’t that extraordinary. Our second match, earlier today, ended even more quickly. But that one minute gave us a brief glimpse into the abilities of contestants Ardy and Rimcy—And I’d say, it was truly intense and enlightening! Who would have thought that this duo—well, “duo” makes them sound like people, but for the sake of convenience—who would have thought that this duo would be so powerful…”

Ayato, Kirin, and Saya all wore the same stunned, disbelieving look.

“Well, this is sure to be today’s headline. If not for them, it definitely would have been you guys, Princess.” Even Eishirou was unable to hide his shock. “Septentrio really couldn’t do a thing against them—That was unexpected.”

“It really was…,” Kirin murmured, her voice faint. “Those two should have been formidable in their own right.”

Julis slowly shook her head. “No, beating Moritz would be an easy enough task for your team or ours. That’s not the problem.”

“Riessfeld is right.” Saya nodded. “That light wall. That thing is trouble.”

“I don’t know how it works, but seeing how it completely blocked Moritz’s ability, no ordinary attack is likely to penetrate it.” Julis propped her chin on her fist in consternation.

“It works something like a defensive barrier…I think,” Saya said.

“Defensive barrier? You mean like what surrounds the battle stage? I thought that took huge bulky equipment to generate…”

The force fields were installed to protect the audience from stray projectiles or other accidents, but they required enormous amounts of power and sizable infrastructure.

“Maybe…they miniaturized it for short-term use,” Saya guessed.

“Interesting. Well, I’ll try to find out about that if I can.” Eishirou got up from the sofa.

“Find out…how?” Ayato said.

“They’re about to do the winners’ interview. I’m going to see if I can sneak in.”

“Huh? But I thought that student media organizations didn’t have access…,” Kirin said.

As a general rule, members of outside media could not enter the schools—whereas in the Festa and other official Asterisk events, they were given preferential treatment. A student would probably not even be allowed into the press conference room.

He grinned at Kirin, who looked uneasy, then skipped out of the waiting room.

“Well. If he can get us something to work with, that would be helpful… Let’s see what he brings back. But let’s not expect too much either.” Julis looked no more optimistic than she sounded.

“But we do need data,” Saya muttered grimly.

“Right. Those machines and all of us in here will definitely reach the main tournament. We’ll have to gather as much information as we can before then.”

The competition had data on them, so with only today’s match to go on they were at a definite disadvantage.

“We should try to see one of their matches in person,” Ayato said.

It was impossible to sense the flow of prana and mana over a broadcast or a video. The best thing would be to see it with their own eyes. Even the lowest tier of Festa tickets came at a premium, but contestants were allowed the use of spectator booths assigned to each school.

“If we can,” Julis agreed. “We had some time today, but going forward the matches are scheduled closer together. It won’t be so easy if we have matches on the same day like we did today.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Just moving from one arena to another could be a lot of work. And even if they fought at the same arena, depending on the timing of their respective matches they might not be able to take the time to sit down and watch the machines fight.

“…Hmm? Pardon.” Saya abruptly took out her mobile device.

An air-window opened, but it was blank—meaning the caller had the video transmission off, and the user on the receiving end had theirs turned on. The caller could see them, but not vice versa.

“Ah, Saya, there you are! Did you see that match?!”

“…Yes.”

“Ha-ha, the creator of those things—Ernesta Kühne, was it? She’s young, but her work is quite good! I’d say those Puppets are using at least five manadites each, if I had to guess. And they’re controlled by one central core rather than simply linked together. Mm-hmm, very interesting! It would be impossible for a human being to operate, but theoretically possible for an AI!”

“Hmm? Oh, right! Sorry!”

Ayato thought he recognized that excited rambling. “Um… Uncle Souichi, is that you?”

“Oh, Ayato! How long has it been?! I saw your round, too. Good to see you’re doing well!”

The happy voice undoubtedly belonged to the man who had once lived next door to Ayato—Saya’s father, Souichi Sasamiya.

Huh…?

And yet, that voice wasn’t quite the same as he remembered. There was something off, some tiny thing that stuck in his mind as unnatural.

“Hey, Ayato, is that…?” Julis asked in a whisper.

“Yes, it’s Saya’s dad,” he answered.

Next to Saya, Kirin politely bobbed her head. “Um—Pardon me! Hello! I’m Kirin Toudou, and I’ll be fighting alongside Miss Sasamiya! It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir!”

“Ah, yes! Of the Toudou Style! I’ve heard lots about you. I do appreciate your teaming up with my little girl.”

“Oh—not at all, sir. I’m obliged to her for inviting me!”

“So, Dad? What do you want?” Saya prompted, somewhat embarrassed.

“Oh, right, I almost forgot! I sent you a new gun. Did you get it yet?”

“A new gun…? No, not yet.”

“Hmm. Probably got stuck in customs. Go and check. I’d hoped you’d get it before the Phoenix, but it looks like you won’t have it in time for the first match.”

“Not a problem,” Saya replied, her voice swelling with self-assurance even while her face remained serious. “I can win with my current arsenal.”

Souichi broke into laughter. “Mm, naturally! With my handiwork, you’ll be unbeatable! Well, good luck then! Tell me all about your win later!”

Did I imagine it…? Ayato wondered. It still felt as if something was off, but there was nothing specific he could place. He decided not to worry about it now.

“Well… Your father sure is talkative. Not at all like you, Sasamiya,” Julis remarked.

“And that’s when he’s holding back. He’ll talk the entire day if you let him.” With that, Saya put away her mobile and stood up. “…Okay. I’m off to check customs.”

“Oh—I’ll go with you!”

Saya and Kirin left the room together.

Now it was just Ayato and Julis. They turned to each other at the same time.

“So, what should we do now?” he asked.

“Well, I’d like to say we should celebrate our first victory. But I don’t think I can, after Allekant showed us that.” With a grim smile, Julis stood and extended her hand to Ayato. “Let’s go back to campus and get in some more practice. We have four days until our second match. Time enough for all the training we can stand.”

“All right.” Mirroring her expression, Ayato took her hand.

“Hey, hey, good work, you two! What a great show!” Beaming, Ernesta greeted Ardy and Rimcy in the hallway that led to the press conference room.

“You are too kind, master.”

“Bwa-ha-ha! Now, that was nothing!”

Rimcy dropped to one knee in deference, while Ardy laughed heartily with his arms crossed.

Glancing sideways at her partner, Rimcy responded with a sharp leg sweep that skimmed the ground.

Ardy groaned and tried to get up—but was unable to move an inch.

“How dare you act so insolently to our master. Have you no shame?”

“That hurt, Rimcy. You’re using your full strength, aren’t you?”

“Naturally. I have no reason to hold back against such disrespect.” Anger simmered beneath the calm surface of Rimcy’s voice.

Ernesta nodded in satisfaction at the scene.

Machines that could analyze the situation and make their own decisions were not rare. There were even machines possessing capacities that could be considered free will. What Ernesta had sought to create were beings who could feel and express their own emotions.

On that score, these two prototypes were already nearing her ideals.

“Now, now. That will do, Rimcy. Ardy didn’t mean any harm, see? And besides, you should get to the press room. You wouldn’t want to keep Camilla waiting.” Ernesta comforted her.

“As you wish, master.” Rimcy reluctantly released Ardy’s head.

They acted autonomously, and all their readings were stable. Things were going almost too smoothly.

The city guard, probably having caught wind of the recent fracas, had Tenorio under close watch. That faction would have to tread lightly for a while. Nor was there any cause for concern with the tournament conditions.

As Ernesta chuckled, Ardy got to his feet and tilted his head on his thick neck. “I have a question, master.”

“Hmm? What’s that?”

“In terms of our technical specifications, there is no great difference in power output between me and Rimcy, correct?”

“Then why is it that I am no match against her?”

“Oh, well, that’s just the way it is. I quote: ‘Woman is Nature’s contrivance for perpetuating its highest achievement. Man is Woman’s contrivance for fulfilling Nature’s behest in the most economical way.’ People in olden times sure had a way with words!” Ernesta’s line was a famous quote from a playwright in a previous century. “In this world, women come first. And fate makes no exceptions, not even for you two. Got it?”

“So, as long as I am in the male form, I cannot win against Rimcy, who is in the female form?”

“That’s about the size of it.”

“…Hrrm,” Ardy grumbled. “Well then, so be it.”

Of course, that had nothing to do with it. Ernesta mentally stuck out her tongue.

The real reason Ardy could not go against Rimcy was simply that Ernesta had created her to be the safety to his trigger. Without her, he would be too dangerous.

“Indeed, it seems that the past champions of the Festa are disproportionately female,” Rimcy added, apparently having run a search of prior results.

Ernesta marveled that the records supported her white lie. She had never been particularly interested in the Festa and had never bothered to check such data.

“Well, the Witch of Solitary Venom from Le Wolfe is female, and she’s been described as the strongest fighter of all time. Oh, and there’s another scary girl from Le Wolfe in this Phoenix…” As Ernesta spoke, a slight frown clouded her expression.

She didn’t think for an instant that Ardy and Rimcy might lose, but not for lack of a challenge.

“It’d be great if the tough ones could just beat up on each other…” Ernesta smiled cynically at the ceiling.

Ayato and Julis, as well as the spectators, were all left momentarily speechless.

“…Oh, so that was Irene Urzaiz’s tag partner, right?” Ayato said.

“Um, yes, I suppose. She called Irene her big sister, so she must be.”

They were still rather stunned, but when they checked a mobile device, they found the face of the second girl.

Priscilla Urzaiz, Irene’s younger sister and tag team partner. But beyond her name and photo, there was hardly any data on her.

“Anyway, why did you talk to her like that just now?” Ayato demanded.

Julis averted her face to feign innocence. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Come on, don’t play dumb. You know you didn’t have to provoke her like that.”

Irene might be the hyper-aggressive type, but the situation might not have become so volatile if Julis hadn’t intervened.

Julis gave up with a sigh and leaned in to murmur in Ayato’s ear. “You really didn’t notice?”

“Huh…?”

“Irene said, ‘My business ain’t with you.’ Even though I was the one who confronted her. That can only mean she had some particular reason to go after you.”

“Okay, but… It’s not like we’ve met before.”

It was nothing strange for Irene to know who he was. If she had files on him that was only natural; he was ranked first at Seidoukan. Other contestants would have taken note of him.

But now that Julis mentioned it, there was something more behind the way Irene had spoken to him.

“People at Le Wolfe will use whatever means they can to accomplish their goals. I wouldn’t be surprised if they had some illicit scheme up their sleeve.”

“I dunno…” Ayato would have liked to say that Julis was overthinking—but that was the scary thing about this city. She may not have been.

Ayato waved it off. “No, no, it’s fine—” Then he remembered. “Oh no! We’d better run, or we’ll miss Saya and Kirin’s match!”

He checked the time to find that they didn’t have very long.

“You’re right,” Julis agreed. “Let’s get to the arena.”

Just as they were about to head to the Procyon Dome, they noticed another hubbub slightly up ahead.

“What could it be now—? Oh, that’s not good! It’s the city guard!” Julis frowned.

Ayato could see two men in unfamiliar uniforms wading through the crowd toward them. “The city guard? So that’s Stjarnagarm?”

That was the peacekeeping organization that acted as a police force in Asterisk. He had heard about the city guard, but it was his first time seeing them in person.

“This is no time to stand around gawking! Let’s get out of here!” Julis took his hand and pulled him away from the guards.

“Wait, it’s not like we did anything wrong…”

“I hate to say it, but the city guard are not the understanding sort. Who knows how long it’d take to explain this to their satisfaction.”

Ayato looked around at the men sprawled on the street. True. This would not be easy to justify.

“I guess you’re right,” he sighed.

The city guards were approaching from the direction of the Procyon Dome, so they had no choice but to distance themselves from their destination.

“Hey! You two—Stop right there!”

Without a glance back toward the authoritative shouts, Ayato and Julis blended into the crowd and escaped down an alleyway.

“Time’s up.”

“So it is…”

“I wonder if something happened to them…?” Kirin worried, just as Saya’s mobile received an incoming call.

“Sorry, Saya! Something came up and we’ll probably be late…”

It was Ayato. Was he whispering for some reason, or were they imagining it?

Kirin peeked over Saya’s shoulder at the air-window.

“…The match is starting,” Saya said.

“Yeah, we know… Sorry.” The tiny image of Ayato hung his head.

“Fine. Waiting room after the match. We’ll hear your excuse then.”

“Okay. Well, good luck! You, too, Kirin.” Ayato nodded to her.

“Thank you!”

The air-window turned off.

Good luck. Those simple words were enough to turn Kirin’s mood around completely. Moments ago she had looked so glum, and now her head was high with determination.

“…Doesn’t take much for you, does it?” Saya remarked.

“Huh? Wh-what do you mean?” Surprised and flustered, Kirin flushed crimson.

Saya tapped her on the back and walked out of the room.

“Oh, wait—wait for me!” Kirin hurried after Saya as she ambled down the hallway. “Whew. You certainly like to do things your own way, Saya.”

“I get that a lot.”

Kirin caught up with a forced smile, but Saya was as unreadable as usual, showing not a hint of excitement or anxiety. Being the timid type herself, Kirin envied her composure, although it did nothing to quell the butterflies in her stomach.

Still, there was something comforting about that, too, for some reason.

“And here we are! Walking up to the stage are Kirin Toudou, the former top-ranked student at Seidoukan Academy, and her partner, Saya Sasamiya!”

“Toudou is just thirteen, but she climbed to first place in her first month at school! Although she lost that rank a short while ago, her abilities are beyond question! But I gotta say, seeing her for myself, she has a rare sangfroid to her—so small and yet cool as a cucumber…”

“Nana, Nana, c’mon. I think you got it backward. That little one is Sasamiya. And the nervous one next to her is the former top dog.”

“Whaaat?! You mean that’s a high schooler? For real? Uhh… Ahem. Sorry about that, everyone!”

“I told ya to look through the files. Seriously.”

The announcer and commentator at this arena seemed to have a good deal of personality.

“…How unpleasant,” Saya said, flat and sullen, as Kirin giggled nervously.

Saya looked at the two students standing opposite them onstage.

One was a frail-looking young man with long hair tied at the nape of his neck, and the other was well-built and bald. Their school crests depicted golden dragons—indicating that they attended the Jie Long Seventh Institute.

Jie Long was the most eccentric of the six schools of Asterisk, with two defining characteristics. One was the widespread use of their own mana-wielding technique, known as Seisenjutsu; the other, a complete dedication to perfecting the martial arts.

Although there were many separate martial arts styles within Jie Long, including some that specialized in the use of weapons, the school’s name connoted a high caliber of unarmed combat. Of course, unarmed fighters were generally at a disadvantage against those using weapons, but this was also the only way to directly convert prana into an attack. These attacks, compounded by their finely trained martial arts prowess, gave them peerless might in close-range combat.

“They’re both unranked, but they seem quite capable,” Kirin said.

Being the largest of the six schools, Jie Long boasted many skilled fighters outside of the Named Cults. They could not be underestimated.

“We’ll work it out,” Saya said. Still calm, she activated her Lux with practiced ease.

A massive, inelegant gun materialized in her hands, setting the crowd to murmuring. They were apparently impressed by its height relative to hers, but in truth, this was relatively small for her arsenal. Still, it was almost as large as she was.

“Um, that’s your…”

“Type 34 Wave Cannon, Ark Van Ders, improved model.”

Saya had over ten Luxes, and Kirin had seen them all at least once. This was only natural when they were fighting together as a team. Some of Saya’s weapons, however, were frankly just startling.

“…Which one do you want?”

Kirin blinked in confusion for a moment, until she figured out that Saya was asking her to choose her adversary. “Huh? Oh, hmm… I don’t mind.”

“Then I’ll take the big one.”

“Understood.” That meant Kirin’s opponent was the long-haired one.

She steadied her breathing and deliberately drew her katana an inch from its scabbard.

“Phoenix, Block L, Round One, Match Two— Begin!”

The very moment the announcement ended, Kirin leaped into range.

As if he had predicted her move, his fist shot out toward her. But he was too slow. Kirin ducked and sliced up toward his chest from a low stance.

…And yet, this was tepid compared to Ayato’s movements.

Turning the katana with her wrists, Kirin slashed downward from an upper stance. Her opponent twisted to dodge with a grunt, but he was clearly off balance.

He unleashed a kick, quite fierce considering he was on the defensive. Kirin evaded it effortlessly and swept the Senbakiri straight across.

As she felt the unmistakable sensation of cutting through a solid object, her opponent’s school crest announced his defeat.

Kirin let out a breath of relief and swung her sword a final time to shake off any debris, then turned her back to the man dropping to his knees. The announcer’s excited voice filled her ears.

“S-so fast! You’d expect nothing less from Seidoukan’s former star. That confrontation barely lasted moments, with Toudou coming out on top. The fight was decided in no time!”

“Yo, Nana! The fight with shorty over here is getting interesting, too!”

Kirin turned toward Saya’s own bout.

“Whoa, you were not kidding! This is also quite the heated contest—These partners are not to be outdone! And get a load of this! I thought from her equipment that Sasamiya would be sticking to long-range combat, but wow-ee… She is going all out in close quarters!”

Saya was indeed fighting at close range. As the bald man brought down his falchion, she parried the blow with the Ark Van Ders. Then she counterattacked with the barrel as if it were a club. The massive firearm in tiny Saya’s grasp already made for quite a sight, and the way she swung it with one arm was beyond astonishing.

On top of that, she was not simply flailing it around. With her parries and well-timed counters, it was immediately clear she had been trained in close combat.

Even Kirin had been surprised to see that the first time, she recalled.

Her opponent growled and sparks flew fiercely as his falchion clashed with the Ark Van Ders. Saya clearly had him on the defensive, while she was calmly waiting for the right time. As stoic as ever, she executed one attack after another.

As the battle continued, the manadite of the Ark Van Ders shone brighter and brighter. Panic crept over the bald student’s face as he realized what was happening.

He attacked even more relentlessly, his blade clashing against the barrel of the gun. Neither Saya nor the Ark Van Ders budged an inch.

The instant the glow of the manadite reached its apex, Saya knocked the falchion upward with her fastest stroke yet and placed the mouth of the gun at the student’s gut.

“…Burst.”

The shock wave felt like a catastrophic earthquake, and the blast knocked the man to the opposite end of the stage. A booming roar drowned his scream as he slammed into the barrier, and his motionless body slid to the ground. Smoke rose from him as if he’d been burned to a crisp.

All of Saya’s Luxes had tremendous destructive power. Taking fire from one at point-blank range didn’t exactly allow an opponent to fight back.

“End of battle! Winners: Saya Sasamiya and Kirin Toudou!”

As the mechanical voice announced their victory, Saya turned toward Kirin and, without so much as a smile, extended her right hand. “…V for victory.”

The waiting room was well equipped, outfitted with enough showers to accommodate several people, since this building also hosted the team Gryps.

With their match over, Saya and Kirin were rinsing off.

“…Right,” Saya replied. “The high power output enabled by the LOBOS transition method is too unstable for a gun to withstand. So, as a way to regulate the output, part of it is diverted to a defensive energy field.”

In the stall next to Kirin’s, Saya was coarsely scrubbing her hair.

“That’s why you can exchange so many blows against a close-range weapon.” Still, Kirin felt that using the gun as a blunt weapon had to be outside its intended usage.

“…I couldn’t have sparred with Ayato without something like that,” Saya went on, as if she’d read Kirin’s mind.

According to her, she had developed the skill in order to help with Ayato’s training when they were children.

“So, you’re not a student of the Amagiri Shinmei Style.”

“Just monkey see, monkey do. Well, Ayato did teach me a little.”

Kirin tried to imagine Ayato and Saya as children—which was easy enough, since they probably were not very different from now. Despite the fact that she was only imagining it, the scene made her a little jealous.

“…But Ayato and Julis are late,” Saya remarked. The pair still had not arrived.

“They really are… But at least we had time to clean up,” Kirin said. They had no plans after their match, so they could just relax and wait.

“I’m getting out,” Saya said, shaking the water out of her hair like a small animal.

“Oh, Saya, you should dry off properly.” As Kirin tried to hand her a bath towel, Saya stopped and stared.

It would be more accurate to say that she was staring not at Kirin, but at her chest.

“Wh-what is it…?”

Kirin tried to back away, but before she could, Saya reached out.

“Eeek!” Kirin just barely managed to cover herself with one hand and knock Saya’s arm away with the other.

“Hmph,” Saya sulked.

On her guard, Kirin slowly backed away, but Saya closed in.

The fairly spacious shower room was still just a shower room. Kirin soon found herself trapped against a wall with nowhere to run.

Saya’s eyes gleamed with impure intentions as she waggled her fingers. “…It has been said since ancient times that kneading the breasts makes them grow larger.”

“That’s obviously wrong!”

Undeterred, Saya swiftly grabbed for her, but Kirin frantically whacked the groping hands aside. It almost looked like a sparring match. Kirin did have the advantage in close-range combat.

In the end, Saya, unable to lay one finger on Kirin, puffed out her cheeks in frustration. “…No fair.”

“I—I don’t think that’s…” Bewildered, Kirin wrapped her bath towel tightly around her body. “Anyway—You’ll catch a cold if you don’t dry off!”

As she opened the door to leave, an air-window suddenly opened.

It was the intercom for the waiting room. The video feed was one-way, so the visitor could only hear their voices.

“Sorry we’re late! Are you both still there?”

The air-window showed Ayato out of breath.

Beside him, Julis was also heaving her shoulders. “Damn those city guards. I never thought they’d be so persistent…”

Clearly, something had happened to them.

Julis and Ayato had access to the room, but that had been temporarily suspended while Saya and Kirin were in the shower.

And Kirin was only wearing a bath towel. She couldn’t greet them like this. “Um, we’re sorry, but could you wait a little—”

“Finally,” Saya interrupted. She called up the air console and promptly unlocked the room.

“Huh…?”

The door opened, so of course Ayato and Julis walked in.

“We’re really sorry. But we saw your match on the broadcast, and…”

“Honestly, I can’t believe it was so much trouble to get here…”

Kirin, too, stiffened at the door to the showers.

Saya walked up to the two visitors as if nothing was awry and spoke with just a hint of pride. “…We won.”

What followed, needless to say, was that Saya received a lengthy earful from Julis.

It was the fifth day of the Festa, and they were at Sirius Dome.

“So…” Julis stretched out onstage and looked back toward Ayato with a faint smile. “The first match was all you. Now it’s my turn.”

“Got it. I’ll take it easy this round,” Ayato replied with his own regretful smile, and patted her lightly on the back.

“All right, here we are, just about to start the second day of the Phoenix! For today’s first bout here in Sirius Dome, we’d like to introduce a team who blasted straight through Round One—Ayato Amagiri and Julis-Alexia von Riessfeld from Seidoukan!”

“Round One was Amagiri’s show for sure. Let’s see how Round Two turns out. Looking forward to it.”

Hearing the familiar voices of the announcer and commentator, Julis focused on her targets for the match.

It was a tag team consisting of the thirty-seventh and fifty-fourth ranked fighters from the Queenvale Academy for Young Ladies. One girl wore her hair in pigtails, and the other in a single ponytail. They both had exquisitely well-proportioned features.

Opinions differed on which school was the strongest in Asterisk, but Queenvale’s reputation as the weakest was nearly unanimous. In the entire history of Asterisk, Queenvale had finished in first place in the overall Festa standings only once.

It was the only all-female institution of the six, as well as the smallest. It had unique standards for matriculation, famed for its low rate of admission. Queenvale was an academy of goddesses who sought the ideal through beauty and strength.

“Good grief, those are some cheers,” Julis muttered as she activated the Aspera Spina.

As usual, the audience was loud enough to break the dome, or so it seemed. But most of the noise was clearly in support of Queenvale.

“Thanks, everyone!”

“We’ll give it our best shot!”

The two fighters from Queenvale beamed at the crowd, waving with both hands.

The girl in pigtails held activated twin-sword Luxes, while the one in a ponytail held a spear-type Lux. Contrary to their dainty appearance, they left no gaps in their defenses, and showed fine control over their prana.

Queenvale may have been the weakest school as a whole, but that had more to do with their practice of very careful selection, which resulted in rarely filling all the slots allotted to their school in the Festa. It did not mean that individual students were poor fighters.

Corroborating this was the fact that Queenvale’s top-ranked student had come in second at the previous Lindvolus tournament.

“Don’t you interfere, Ayato,” Julis said.

“I know.”

She stepped forward, composed and confident. The school crests declared the start of the match.

“Here we go!” The girl in pigtails was the first to make a move. She sliced at Julis, but Julis easily parried with her rapier.

“This is nothing compared to Ayato’s or Kirin’s swordplay,” she said to herself.

The girl with the ponytail jumped in with a yell, but Julis did not allow her to get close.

Although her main strength was long-distance attacks, her skills with the rapier had always been decent. She had been instructed in the basics from an early age.

“Take this!” cried the girl with the sword.

“Burst into bloom—Anthurium!”

The girl executed a sharp thrust, but a shield of fire instantly materialized to deflect it. She was knocked back with a scream.

“Oh—Are you okay?!” The one in pigtails rushed to her aid.

Julis took advantage of the pause to leap back, putting distance between them.

“Now you’ll see what I can do.”

Mana stirred around her. “O flames of Trocchia, fly over the castle walls and burn away the Nine Plagues…,” she intoned. Flames rose up and swirled to form around her nine fireballs in the shapes of delicate primroses.

“Burst into bloom—Primrose!”

At her command, the flames dancing around her like fireflies surged at the pair from Queenvale.

Unable to withstand the omnidirectional attack, the girl in the ponytail cried out as her crest shattered.

As her own emblem announced her partner’s defeat, the girl in pigtails dodged the fireballs and sliced them away one by one.

“Hah! This won’t take me down…!” she boldly declared, and cut down the last one, but—

“Blossom—Semiserrata!”

A magic circle appeared below the girl’s feet.

“Wha—?”

A fixed ability—which was to say, a trap.

Julis had used the fireballs to deftly lure the girl to that very spot.

An enormous camellia flower made of flame opened up above the girl as she stared, stunned, toward the sky.

The flower of fire exploded on impact, engulfing her.

“End of battle! Winners—Ayato Amagiri and Julis-Alexia von Riessfeld!” the mechanical voice announced.

The roaring gust and whirling flames eventually subsided to reveal the girl lying on her back, unconscious.

“A-and there you have it—another one-sided match! This time, it was Riessfeld’s one-woman show! My, my… I can only say that there’s more to see from this pair! The Phoenix is, of course, a tag team tournament, but they have yet to fight together… What do you make of it?”

“Well, it’s a pretty effective strategy for not showing your hand as a tag team. And there is some precedent, so. But I was impressed with Riessfeld. Now there’s a clever fighter. Her ability is so versatile, she can respond to a wide range of situations. That’s a point in her favor for sure. Particularly that move at the end there…”

The keen-eyed commentator explained in detail how Julis had led her opponent into her trap.

“Not bad, I guess,” Julis said, letting out a short breath.

“Good work, Julis.” Ayato greeted her with a grin, raising his hand.

She returned the smile and met the high five, making a bright, pleasant slap.

“Honestly! Don’t they know when to stop? Just one stupid question after another…”

Returning to the waiting room after another dragged-out winners’ interview, Julis sank into the sofa with a sigh.

“Well, they’re just doing their jobs.” With a nervous laugh, Ayato turned on the kettle to make tea. “Oh, there was something I noticed in the match today…”

“Hmm?”

“Oh, that. Well, you know, it was just a little something I threw in for the fans. I hear that’s the sort of thing they love.”

“Huh.” This surprised Ayato. He had thought Julis would be the last person to indulge fans that way.

“No need to be so surprised. I know my role here. When I’m onstage, I can give them that much. Well, when I can afford to, anyway.” She shrugged. “What it takes to activate one’s abilities varies from person to person. In theory, there’s no need to vocalize or gesture, but some people need to go through certain motions. For my part, I don’t need incantations, but vocalizing makes it easier to image my powers.”

“I see…”

Julis sipped her tea and gave Ayato a pointed look. “Anyway, you name your techniques aloud, too.”

“Oh, that’s just an old habit. When Saya and I used to train together as kids, she told me it was cooler that way…and then it kind of stuck.”

“Hmm. So that’s why.”

Because he was forbidden as a child from sparring with other students, the only people who could help him train were Saya and his older sister. And because they could not do so at the dojo, they usually went up into the nearby hills and used low-level Luxes meant for self-defense.

Thinking back on it now, it was not very far removed from ordinary playing, which could have been why his father overlooked it.

“So, what do you want to do now?” Julis asked with a cup in her hand.

Ayato crossed his arms to think. “Hmm. Well, I’d like to go root for Saya and Kirin…but we wouldn’t make it in time, would we.”

“Yes, their match would probably be over by the time we get there.”

Saya and Kirin were not with them today, since they had their own fight.

“B-besides, we haven’t eaten lunch yet,” Julis added stiffly.

“Oh yeah, you’re right.”

Due to the timing of their match, they had put off lunch. Ayato had not paid it much mind until Julis reminded him and the hunger came on suddenly. The human body works in mysterious ways.

“Well then, maybe we should stop somewhere for a bite…,” Ayato began, until Julis cleared her throat in an oddly theatrical manner. “Julis?”

“Um… So, actually—the thing is… I did bring something today.” Julis went to the locker and retrieved a large basket.

“Oh… Did you pack us lunch?”

“Y-yes. Well, you could say that.” Bashfully averting her gaze, Julis pushed the basket toward him.

Ayato had spent many days off with Julis for training and other things, but he could not remember her doing something like this. Even at school, Julis tended to eat at the cafeteria—of course, students who packed their own lunches were in the minority—and she had never cooked or made food that he knew about.

Then it hit him. “Oh—Is this because Saya and Kirin made lunch the other day?”

Julis was competitive to the core, so maybe that had triggered something inside her.

“N-no, that has nothing to do with it!” she denied, going crimson. “I did this—on a whim! Yes, that’s it.”

“Oh, okay.” Ayato laughed. “Well, thanks, whatever the reason. I think I’ll dig in.”

“It… It’s very simple. Don’t get your expectations up too high,” Julis stressed.

Answering with a weak smile, Ayato opened the basket to find a row of adorably small tea sandwiches.

“Oh, sandwiches.” They were standard fare, like ham and lettuce, eggs, bacon. He picked up an egg sandwich and took a bite.

“Mm. Pretty good.” This was no less than his honest opinion.

Ayato did not often eat sandwiches and had little basis for comparison, but it was the type of thing he liked. The black pepper was a nice touch.

“Oh—good!” Joy immediately spread over her face, but she turned away to hide it as soon as she noticed him looking at her.

“I didn’t know you cooked, too, Julis.”

“Well, something like this is easy enough.”

Even with her back to him, he could see pride straighten her spine.

She really could be very cute sometimes.

“Are you going to have any?”

There were clearly too many sandwiches in the basket for him to finish on his own. This had to be a portion for two, Ayato thought, but Julis showed no signs of partaking.

“Well, sure, I will, but…” The unspoken half of the sentence weighed down on her.

Confused, Ayato tried to imagine what she wanted to say but couldn’t think of anything.

This went on for a bit, until Julis grew impatient and her glare became sullen. “…It’s not very fair, you know.”

“Fair?”

“Well, um… To do that to Sasamiya and Toudou but not to me seems, well, inconsistent… Er, not that I particularly want you to do anything, but…,” Julis mumbled vaguely.

Finally, Ayato realized—Could she be talking about that?

“Oh, is that it…? You too, Julis?”

The color in her cheeks high, Julis briskly turned away, but she did not deny it.

“W-well then, um, if I may…”

Ayato lightly placed his hand on top of her head and petted it gently. A scent of flowers softly tickled his nose. Alone in the room with her, he felt a little embarrassed.

Julis appeared to share the sentiment; her already red cheeks blushed redder still.

“I know! We should check on the other matches while we finish lunch…!” After a moment, Julis abruptly changed the subject and turned on the television.

“Oh, yeah. It looked like there would be lots of interesting matches today.” Taking the hint, Ayato pulled back his hand but did not know what to do with it.

Coming up empty, he reached for another sandwich. Just as tasty as the last.

“Oh…” Julis flipped through the channels until her finger froze in place. “So, their match is today, too.”

Hearing the gravity in her voice, Ayato looked up at the screen to see a male student built like a boulder bulging under a Seidoukan uniform.

The fighter facing him was a female student from Le Wolfe wielding an enormous scythe.

“Don’t rush in. Got it, Randy?”

With the Bardiche-Leo in his hands, Lester MacPhail called to Randy Hooke behind him.

“I know, Lester. We’re going to stall them as much as possible. Right?”

“Right. Just keep ’em at bay. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Stalling for time was an atypical strategy for him, but he had little choice. Their opponent was ranked third at Le Wolfe. Much as he hated to admit it, she was far stronger.

“Hey there—Lester, was it?” Irene Urzaiz casually addressed him.

Although the match had already started, she hadn’t even bothered to take a fighting stance. Her huge scythe, the Gravisheath, still rested on her shoulder.

“What do you want?” Lester cautiously kept his distance.

“You’re a friend of the Murakumo’s, right? There’s some luck. You wanna tell me about him?”

“Huh?” Lester scowled at the unexpected question.

“It’s not like I’m super-interested but, you know, since we’re here.”

“I’ve got no idea why you’d wanna know, but lemme clear up a couple things. First, I only happen to go to the same school as him. I’m not his friend,” Lester said, disgusted, then repositioned the Bardiche-Leo and pointed it toward Irene. “And second, I came here for a fight, not some stupid chitchat.”

“Heh… Yeah, okay. Sorry.” Irene shrugged, then spun the Gravisheath around and slammed its butt against the ground. “Well then, if you that’s what you want, let’s get started.”

Irene bared her teeth in a grin, and the Gravisheath roared like a wild beast.

“Randy, run!” Lester shouted, and began to run himself. But he did not charge in recklessly. He skirted around his opponent from the right, maintaining distance and waiting for an opening.

Irene’s Gravisheath was a powerful Orga Lux with the ability to control gravity. However, that didn’t mean there was no hope of defeating her.

First of all, that ability was widely known, which made it possible to form a strategy against it. The Gravisheath’s power could not target a specific object, but only an area. That meant its target could avoid its power by staying constantly on the move.

Second, the Gravisheath’s biggest weakness was how much energy it took to wield. Orga Luxes were generally known to have some side effects—a “cost”—and in the case of the Gravisheath, the cost was particularly vicious. This was why it had passed through the hands of so many students with only a few able to use it fully.

That means if I can drag this out, we’ve got the advantage!

Lester’s usual style was to strike first and strike hard, but that wouldn’t work here, and there was nothing to be done. After all, winning was the most important thing.

There was almost no data on Priscilla, but seeing how she had behaved in just the same way in the first round, she did not seem to be a proactive fighter. It was possible that she had some sort of ability—perhaps as a Strega with the power to attack from a long distance or defend her partner—but for now, Lester thought it was enough to keep an eye on her.

“Jeez… Everybody always tries the same damn thing. Don’t you have a shred of originality?” Irene looked supremely irritated as she swung the Gravisheath with one hand. The purple urm-manadite shone brighter, enough to illuminate the floor of the stage. “Besides, you’re not even good enough to pull it off.”

“Guh!” Randy, who had been running around Irene opposite Lester, suddenly fell to the ground.

It looked as if an invisible hand was pinning him down, and his face contorted in pain. Irene must have strengthened the gravitational field around him.

“Randy!” Lester cried out.

“See, what’d I tell ya? You can scurry around all you want, but all I have to do is to set the area a little wider—and then it’s all over.” With that, Irene swung the Gravisheath again. This time the purple light gathered around the fallen Randy.

Randy groaned in agony. Apparently, narrowing the area of the effect made the gravitational field more intense.

“I don’t think so!” While Irene fixated on Randy, Lester closed in behind her and brought down the Bardiche-Leo. But—

“Didn’t I tell you? No creativity.” Irene used the Gravisheath as a pole to vault into the air, dodging Lester’s attack while landing a sharp and forceful kick to his neck.

As Lester went down on his knee with a grunt, Irene struck with another kick to his stomach, sending his enormous body flying.

“I’ll get to you in a bit. Hold on tight,” Irene said as she sauntered over to Randy.

Irene ignored him and spoke to the prone young man. “Wanna give up?”

“N-never…!”

Irene coldly towered over him as he struggled to speak. At his reply, she let out a short sigh and swung the Gravisheath nonchalantly. Its purple glow intensified even further as Randy tensed up, voiceless.

His efforts to push himself off the ground failed. His arms went limp, and the emblem on his chest announced—

“Randy Hooke—unconscious.”

“One down.” Irene turned her eyes on Lester, who had just managed to stand up. “Wow. You’re pretty tough, Ax of the Roaring Distance.”

“Your mistake, if you think I’m not…!” Lester focused prana into the Bardiche-Leo, where it reacted with the manadite for an explosive burst of energy.

It was his Meteor Arts technique, Blast Nemea.

“Take this!”

He delivered a stroke with his ax of light, twice the usual size.

Irene blocked it with the Gravisheath, but it was impossible to fend off completely. She was sent flying backward.

“How’d you like that?!” Lester was confident that the raw power of the Blast Nemea had no equal at Seidoukan. Even if it was not a direct hit, he was sure he had dealt her some damage.

“Ouuuch… Guess I did take you a bit too lightly. You’re not ninth at Seidoukan for nothing. ” But Irene got back on her feet with only a slight grimace.

Did she actually jump back to soften the impact…?!

Her earlier kicks and this latest defensive maneuver spoke to some extraordinary skills in physical combat. “So… There’s more to you than just the fancy weapon.”

“Tch. I didn’t wanna show my hand before the main tournament, but…guess that’s what I gotta do,” Irene said. “Out of respect for your strength, I’ll let you see my full power for a bit.”

“What—?” Lester scowled.

He knew, more or less, the power of the Gravisheath. It could intensify the gravitational field in an area to push down an opponent, or control the direction of gravity’s pull. Although there were probably many ways to utilize it, as far as he knew that was the extent of her weapon’s power.

Is she bluffing…? he thought.

Ignoring Lester’s suspicious glare, Irene walked toward Priscilla and gently drew her close.

“Irene…”

“Sorry, Priscilla. I’ll only take a little.”

Irene opened her mouth wide. Two long, sharp canines glowed eerily, and she sunk them deep into Priscilla’s neck.

“What the—?!”

As Lester stood stunned, the Gravisheath glowed brightly in Irene’s hand, like it was throbbing with joy.

Irene released her bite and softly exhaled. Blood trickled down to stain Priscilla’s chest, but stopped before long. The small bite wounds on her neck closed as Lester watched.

“See, the Gravisheath demands blood as the cost for its powers. It’s not exactly fuel-efficient, so it would drain you bone-dry in no time, normally. That’s why it transforms the body of the user to take the cost from an outside source. A real scary Orga Lux, don’t ya think?” With a chuckle, Irene readied the scythe. “But I’m told the transformation only occurs if you have a pretty high compatibility rating.”

“I see… So you’re literally a vampire.” Lester couldn’t hide the shock on his face, but he could not retreat, either. He held up the Bardiche-Leo and focused his prana, intending to launch a Meteor Arts counterattack.

The spheres rushed at Lester.

As he tried to dodge them, he was astonished to find he could barely move. His body felt as heavy as if he’d been tied down with lead weights.

“I went ahead and made the gravity a little stronger on you. Oh, and the area of effect is the entire stage. There’s no getting away.”

“Ngh!” Lester barely dodged the first sphere but had to receive the second and the third with the Bardiche-Leo.

And as he did, the spheres shrunk down, swallowing the Bardiche-Leo with them, and burst into nothing.

Irene laughed. “If you want to block my gravity spheres, you gotta at least bring an Orga Lux.”

“Dammit!” He had no chance fighting her unarmed.

The moment he reached for the backup Lux at his waist, he felt the downward pull increase.

Bellowing in pain, he was dragged to the ground, and his body creaked against a gravitational field so strong it seemed he would break through the arena floor.

“So, you wanna keep going, Ax of the Roaring Distance?”

Lester felt the blade of the Gravisheath come to rest against his neck. He couldn’t even get any words out, but he glared at Irene with clenched teeth.

He wanted to at least land one blow. But those eyes staring down at him turned his blood cold.

They were glinting with an icy light—something inhuman.

If he were to resist now, Irene would not hesitate to reap his head with that scythe.

Of course, doing so would result in her immediate disqualification. But the savagery he saw told him she didn’t care.

Letting out a heavy breath, he muttered, “All right. You win.”

“End of battle! Winners—Irene Urzaiz and Priscilla Urzaiz!”

At the automated announcement, Lester ground his molars.

He was about to put his head in his hands and give up on this unsolvable crisis when he suddenly noticed her shoulders were shaking slightly with suppressed laughter. “Oh…”

“I do beg your pardon.” She giggled, and turned with her tongue stuck out at him. “That was cruel of me.”

“Come on, Claudia, don’t do that.” Ayato almost crumpled to the floor.

She turned her usual serene smile on him. “Please forgive me. I really was looking forward to this.”

Ayato winced with guilt.

“Still, you can’t leave Miss Sasamiya lost in the streets,” she went on gently, and opened the door for him. “But you will make it up to me, won’t you? I’ll hold you to that.”

“Yes, ma’am.” With a tired smile, Ayato left the suite to hurry toward the subway station.

“Let’s see. She should be around here somewhere, I think,” Ayato said, getting his bearings in the cityscape.

They were in west Asterisk, at the outskirts of the commercial area. After meeting up with Kirin and calling Saya’s mobile, he had narrowed her location to this neighborhood.

“We’ll have to look for her on foot from here.”

“I suppose so,” Kirin said, head swiveling this way and that.

Ayato had told Saya to stay put, so he hoped the situation wouldn’t deteriorate further. “We should split up. We have to find her before it gets dark.”

“Right. I’ll go look that way.”

“Thanks, Kirin.”

“Sure!” She bowed politely to him, trotted to the other side of the road, and vanished into the streets.

He wondered then whether splitting up with Kirin was the best idea, but there couldn’t be many who stood a chance against her. Her reputation as a former first-ranked student preceded her. He doubted anyone would be foolish enough to start a fight with her.

The problem was Saya. He was worried that she might get into some kind of altercation—specifically, that she would start one.

Of course, his concern extended mainly to the other party.

Holding back was not in Saya’s nature. The more he considered that, the more it seemed like the right decision to split up and look for her.

“From what I could tell on the air-window, she didn’t seem to be on a major street,” he muttered. “So, I guess I have to check the back streets one by one…”

Letting out a sigh, Ayato went into a nearby alley. It was somewhat damp, dimly lit, with few pedestrians.

He kept walking for a bit, but nothing changed. Just as he decided to double back, he thought he heard someone talking in the shadows up ahead.

He stopped still and strained his ears.

“Don’t… Please…! …me go…!”

This time, he heard it for sure. And it sounded like trouble.

He crept forward to observe and saw a girl behind a building, surrounded by several men.

That’s—

To Ayato’s surprise, he recognized both parties.

The girl was Priscilla Urzaiz. The men were the ones from that brawl with Irene.

Ayato could guess what was going on here.

“Hey, quit making so much noise. We hate extra work.”

“That’s right. And don’t blame us for this. Blame your sister.”

“Mmf! Mmmm!” The men’s hands muffled Priscilla’s screams. They had her hands pinned, too. There were five assailants in all.

But he could hardly just walk away.

Not much of a choice, Ayato thought with a sigh. He emerged from the shadows with deliberately loud footsteps.

“Wh-who the hell are you?!” One of the men noticed Ayato and activated a knife-type Lux—an unexpectedly quick reaction.

“Oh, nobody, I’m just passing by… But do you think maybe you could let that girl go?”

“What?!” Their eyes all fixed on him at once.

They didn’t seem the type for rational conversation.

“You got some balls, kid, bargin’ in like this and tellin’ us what to do.”

Glaring at Ayato, the other men activated their Luxes one by one.

Then suddenly, one pointed at Ayato’s face and shouted, “Whoa! Isn’t that the Murakumo?!”

“The Murakumo— You mean Seidoukan’s first-ranked?”

“This goofy-lookin’ brat? You sure?”

For a moment, doubt crossed their faces.

Ayato did not miss the opportunity.

Catching them off guard, he slipped between them to Priscilla, where she was held against the wall. He grabbed her hand and ran at full speed, pulling her deeper into the alley.

“Hey! You little bastard—!”

The man who had been holding Priscilla reached out at them, but too late.

“Um—I—!” she began.

“Just run!” Ayato told her.

The men gave chase with angry shouts. Explanations could wait.

“Go around from the right! We can trap them in a dead end!”

“Contact the boss! Ask him to send a few more guys!”

The shouts came from more than one direction. They were apparently being herded toward the redevelopment area. “This could have gone better…”

If he broke his seal now, it might affect him tomorrow and beyond. Since their match was not until the day after tomorrow, he would have some time to recover, but he wanted to avoid that if possible.

He might not have a choice, though.

Priscilla interrupted the thoughts running through his mind with a tug on his shirt.

Wordlessly, she pointed upward.

“Up…? Oh—right!”

Grasping what she meant, he rounded a corner and released his strength just for a moment. Paying no mind to the sharp pain that shot through his body, he drew Priscilla close and kicked off the wall to climb up a building.

There were few tall structures in this area. This one was only four stories high.

“Hey, where’d they go?!”

“Find them! They can’t have gone far!”

From below, Ayato could still hear them. As he stood on the roof, stifling his breath, the men loudly doubled back. He exhaled in relief.

They would probably figure out how he and Priscilla had escaped, but he decided on staying still for the time being. Luckily, a water tower and other obstacles would provide cover, perfect for hiding.

“Uh, um…” Priscilla awkwardly groped for words, and Ayato realized he had been holding on to her all this time.

“Oh—s-sorry!” He hastily let go.

“No, please don’t apologize! You saved me! Thank you so much!” Priscilla bowed deeply, then took out her mobile. “Um… Would you mind if I call my sister?”

With a nod, Priscilla started to fiddle with the device. Ayato figured she must have been adjusting the air-window and volume to prevent discovery.

Ayato searched for any signs of others in the area. If he strained his ears, he could still hear angry voices in the distance. But things were quiet near them.

Unnaturally so.

What’s going on…?

Of course, that was preferable to being chased by a gang, but something about it felt strange. He needed to keep his mind sharp.

“Um, Mr. Amagiri…?” Priscilla said timidly.

“Oh, sorry.” Ayato smiled at her. “Were you able to get in touch with your sister?”

She nodded, looking reassured. “Yes! She’s on her way to pick me up.”

“Good. We can breathe easy then.”

The truly proper thing to do would have been to contact the city guard, but Ayato assumed Priscilla must have known that, too. If she had decided to contact just her sister, then Ayato was not going to press her about it.

“So… What led to all that?” Ayato asked. He had a rough idea of what had occurred, but not the details.

“Those men are from a casino in the Rotlicht—I think.”

“The Rotlicht?”

“Oh— There’s a part of the redevelopment area full of illegal businesses. That’s what people call it.”

“Huh…” So that was what went on in the redevelopment area? The central district had plenty of legal casinos. If the casinos in the Rotlicht operated illegally, they must have had reasons.

“And these guys from the casino… Why were they after you?”

“W-well… My sister caused a big brawl there some time ago. I hear she nearly destroyed the place,” Priscilla explained with downcast eyes, apparently ashamed. The latter half of her explanation became so faint it was barely audible.

The men had tried to get back at Irene for wrecking their casino. But, finding themselves no match for her, they went after her sister, Priscilla, instead. That seemed to be the gist of it.

“B-but please don’t get the wrong idea! Sis—I mean, Irene is a little violent and short-tempered, for sure, but she’s really a very nice person!” Priscilla waved emphatically as she defended Irene.

Ayato could sense the affection Priscilla had for her sister, and it made him smile.

“Okay.” He laughed and held out his hand. “I’m Ayato Amagiri, by the way. Although I guess you knew that already.”

“I’m Priscilla Urzaiz. I’m sorry my sister was so rude to you the other day.” She smiled awkwardly as she shook his hand.

They were, after all, both on teams favored to win the Phoenix. It was impossible that they wouldn’t know of each other.

“I should really be able to fend for myself in a situation like that—but I’m just not as strong as her,” Priscilla said sadly.

True, while Priscilla was a Genestella, she hardly seemed to have any fighting experience.

In fact, talking to her in person, Ayato doubted her personality could handle conflict of any kind.

“Then why did you choose to fight in the Phoenix?”

“Um, well…,” Priscilla hesitantly began.

“Hey, what the hell d’you think you’re doing?!”

Hearing that harsh voice behind him, Ayato felt a ferocious wave of murderous intent. He whipped around in a fighting stance.

Irene Urzaiz stood there with the Gravisheath in her hands, floating in midair.

“Irene!”

“I sure hope you haven’t laid a finger on Priscilla.” Her eyes were shadowed with hostility and suspicion.

“H-he didn’t! I told you earlier! Mr. Amagiri saved me!” Priscilla rushed to explain.

She glared at Ayato with eyes as deep and dark as falling dusk.

“Your enemy?” he said. “Well, maybe in the arena, but not now.”

“Heh! Such noble words. You’re not gonna fool me!” Irene spat as she alighted on the roof and slowly raised the Gravisheath. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but I’ll make you regret going near my sister.”

“Uh-oh…”

Irene seemed deadly serious.

Her violent aura prickled his skin. Ayato found his hand reaching for the Lux holder at his waist.

Ayato was already within range of the Gravisheath, and the roof limited his room to run. He couldn’t escape it.

Then—

“Irene… You don’t really mean that, do you?” Priscilla inserted herself between Irene and Ayato and stared at her sister coolly. Soft as her volume was, anger and determination unmistakably darkened her tone.

All at once, light returned to Irene’s eyes, and she hurriedly disengaged the Gravisheath. “O-okay! Kidding! I was just kidding, calm down!” In a cold sweat, Irene held out both palms and shook her head.

“Are you sure? You’re not going to do anything to Mr. Amagiri?”

“Nope! Not a thing!”

“Really? Promise?”

“Yeah, yup! I promise!”

“Okay. Good.” Priscilla smiled brightly and nodded in satisfaction.

Irene, meanwhile, wearily slumped her shoulders, but then raised her head to look at Ayato. “But I’ve got two questions for you.”

“Irene?” Priscilla warned.

“Just asking! I’m just asking! I’m not gonna do anything to him! That’s okay, right?”

“Hmmm…” As Priscilla regarded Irene with suspicion, Ayato chuckled uncomfortably.

“First. The dudes lying around down there. Did you do that?”

“Do…what?” Ayato didn’t understand the question, so he had to return it with one of his own.

Irene stared straight into his eyes for a good bit, then let out a sigh. “Fine, never mind. The second question: Priscilla says you came this way by coincidence. But what were you doing in the back alleys?”

“I was just…” Ayato suddenly remembered the reason he was there in the first place. “Oh, that’s right!”

He hurriedly took out his mobile and placed a call to Saya. After a few rings, an air-window opened to show his friend’s face.

“Are you okay, Saya? Where are you now?”

“I’m okay. The problem was solved just a little while ago.”

“Oh, Ayato. I’m glad you called. I found Saya.” Kirin poked her head into the frame with a relieved smile on her face.

“Oh, that’s good.” Ayato put his hand to his chest, his mind at ease.

So Kirin had gotten to Saya before she caused any trouble.

“And where are you, Ayato?” Saya asked.

“I don’t think I’m very far from you, actually… Kirin, do you want to meet at that same corner? …Okay. See you.”

Ayato finished the call and put away his mobile. Irene and Priscilla stared at him, bewildered.

“That’s all… I was looking for a friend of mine who got lost,” he explained.

“I told you, Irene,” Priscilla gloated.

Irene stood abashedly scratching her head, then finally let out a long breath and dropped her shoulders. “Tch. All right, I guess I owe you one.”

“Don’t worry about it. We all have to help each other out when things get tough.”

Ayato was completely sincere, but Irene shook her head, exasperated. “It’s not that easy… I gotta pay you back sooner rather than later, or it’ll get weird.”

At Ayato’s and Priscilla’s empty expressions, Irene heaved another sigh. Taking out her mobile, she showed them an air-window.

“Oh, right. They must have announced the matchups for the main tournament.” Ayato reflexively searched for his own name, and when he read the bracket, his jaw fell open.

Phoenix—Round Four.

In the space for Julis and Ayato’s opponents, along with the school crest of Le Wolfe Black Institute, were the names Irene Urzaiz and Priscilla Urzaiz.

He twisted away from the second attack with only a hair’s breadth to spare, but he lost his balance and fell on his back. Never pausing in her fluid motion, Claudia climbed astride him and silently raised the two swords above him.

“Claudia!”

Calling her name for the third time, Ayato reached out in desperation. His fingers barely, just barely, grazed her cheek.

Her body convulsed once, and her upraised arms snapped to a halt.

“Aya…to?”

For a few moments, Claudia only stared emptily down at Ayato. Then she came to with a gasp and leaped off him.

“I-I’m so sorry, Ayato! I…”

Surprise and regret covered her face, but most of all, terrible distress. Ayato had never witnessed such an open emotional display from her before.

But at least his life was no longer in danger. His hand went to his chest in relief.

Meanwhile, Claudia returned the Pan-Dora to standby mode and stood with her back to Ayato. Shoulders heaving, she slowly forced her own breathing back in order.

“I truly am sorry. I must have let my guard down.” When she turned toward him to speak, Claudia had returned to her usual self. She gave him a deep, contrite bow.

“You sure scared me. What in the world was that?” Ayato asked as he got to his feet, trying and not quite succeeding to make a pleasant expression.

That was putting it lightly. To be honest, he had seldom been more terrified. Claudia’s technique was keen and impeccably precise, and even bore comparison with Kirin’s. Of course, Kirin’s skills were more polished, but Claudia was no ordinary fighter—That much was certain.

“What do you mean?” Ayato cocked his head quizzically.

Claudia motioned for him to take a seat on the sofa while she returned to the chair at her desk. “But first, will you hear a request of mine?”

“A request?”

Claudia’s eyes looked at Ayato straight on. “It’s not for a while yet, but I would like you to fight as a member of my team in the Gryps tournament next year.”

“The Gryps…?” He was more than a little surprised at the unexpected appeal, but he knew his answer. “Okay. But only if Julis fights with us.”

Ayato had promised to help Julis. And Julis’s goal was a grand slam. He obviously couldn’t help her in the individual Lindvolus, but he fully intended to fight alongside her at the Gryps unless she told him otherwise.

“I thought you might say that. But I have to say, I’m a little jealous.” Claudia’s smile seemed forlorn. “But that’s not a problem. I was planning on recruiting Julis, as well. I don’t think she would refuse.”

As long as Julis’s sights were set on a grand slam, strong teammates were a must. The chances of her declining Claudia’s invitation would be low.

Ayato got the feeling that Claudia already had a specific plan in mind. “And what does what happened just now have to do with the Gryps?”

“Just that I wouldn’t mind sharing secrets with a teammate,” Claudia said, then activated the Pan-Dora once again.

Thanks to the earlier incident, Ayato couldn’t help recoiling.

“Please don’t worry,” Claudia said with a gentle laugh. “I won’t do it again. By the way, Ayato—Have you ever experienced death?”

“Huh…?” Ayato was bewildered. “Um… I don’t understand what you mean by the question.”

“I meant exactly what I said.”

“I’ve already died over twelve hundred times.”

“What?” Ayato could only stare at her baffled, again.

Amused by his bewilderment, Claudia hefted the Pan-Dora for him. “The cost that this darling demands of the wielder is to experience one’s own death. Every time I fall asleep, I dream of my inevitable demise.”

“Experience your own death…?”

She said it casually enough, but it sounded to Ayato like horrific torture.

“Now, it never shows you the same death twice—My little one’s mischievous that way. I’m amazed at all the different ways a person can die. Illness, accident, starvation, cold, suicide, and of course—death by the hands of another. All of these I could face one day.” Claudia still spoke like the Claudia he knew, calm and kind. “Just now, I was about to be killed. I must have attacked you while I was dreaming. Again, I’m sorry.”

She bowed her head again and went on.

“When I wake, the substance of the dream melts away. All that’s left are fragments and impressions, the fear and pain I felt on the verge of death, and—how can I describe it—a bone-deep fatigue. And that is why, despite its extraordinary power of precognition, no one had been able to wield this one. I’m told that those who tried to use it before me didn’t last three days.”

Her laughter tinkled like a bell, but her words could not have been more ghastly.

“…I’m amazed you’re okay,” Ayato said.

“Yes, well—Sometimes there are occurrences like what happened tonight, but I can adapt.”

“Still…” Thinking back to her tortured face as she slept, he found it hard to believe her.

“Hmm, are you worried about me? How sweet of you.”

She was teasing him, but Ayato responded seriously, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Then, what is your wish, Claudia?”

“That…will have to remain a secret.” She slowly shook her head.

All who come to this city have a wish. They fight to make their wish come true, and they seek strength to fight for it.

Maybe it was all perfectly normal, Ayato thought. And yet…

“Now, back to the subject at hand,” Claudia said. “The stronger the Orga Lux, the steeper the cost tends to be. Your Ser Veresta, too, requires so much prana that normal Genestella would dry up using it. It’s rare for anyone to score a high compatibility rating to begin with. You could say that the difficulty of wielding it is a part of its cost.”

She paused for a moment. Her smile and voice were entirely back to normal.

“Of course, every Orga Lux is different,” she continued, “so it’s not easy to make general statements. But isn’t this along the lines of what you wanted to discuss?”

She had seen right through him. Well then, that made it easier to get to the point.

So he asked her directly, “Claudia, what do you think of the Gravisheath?”

“I don’t know any more about it beyond the data I gave you.”

“I’m not asking for data—I’m asking for your opinion. As an Orga Lux user.” He paused, then grumbled, “You know that.”

She laughed silently. “Well… As you know, Orga Luxes have wills of their own. Do you understand what that means?”

“Huh? Umm… Well…” Ayato pondered for a bit, but none of his answers sounded quite right to him.

He gave up, raising his palms in resignation.

“It’s the same as people,” Claudia said brightly. “If they have wills, that means they have personalities, and if they have personalities, they can be put into categories.”

“Categories…?”

“I see.” So, just like people.

“Well, there are other ways of putting it. For example, whether they’re friendly toward humans or not.”

“Then, going off that, which do you think the Ser Veresta is?”

“He—Oh, forgive me. It might be she. In any case, I think yours has a relatively good personality. Even if it is a little contrary.”

“And what about the Pan-Dora?”

“Oh, this one has the worst personality. Perhaps even as bad as mine.” Claudia giggled merrily with her hand to her mouth.

Typical Claudia, talking about herself that way.

“Then…how about the Gravisheath?” Ayato said.

“That one…” She lowered her gaze a bit. “I don’t want to speak ill of others’ darlings, but the Gravisheath strikes me as dangerous.”

“You think so, too?”

That Orga Lux was dangerous—not because of its power but, to use Claudia’s words, because of its personality.

“I’ve never faced it, so this is only my impression, but that one seemed very selfish. That kind of Orga Lux often tampers with its user.”

“Tampers…?”

“Hmm… It might be misleading to say it takes over, but some Orga Luxes can transform the mind and personality of the wielder to their liking. The longer they use it, the more marked the effect becomes. And that one already has the power to physically transform the user.”

Ayato let out a long breath and raised his eyes to the ceiling. So that must be it.

“Thanks, Claudia,” he said. “That’s helpful.”

“Don’t mention it. But why are you in such a hurry?”

“Our match is tomorrow. I have to get some rest.”

“Oh…” Claudia’s expression turned seductive as she made an unmistakable invitation. “You’d be welcome to spend the night.”

Then, with his foot on the windowsill, he turned back. “Oh, right. About my sister—The student council president of Le Wolfe seems to know something.”

“Dirk Eberwein?” Claudia asked, sounding surprised.

“I think he might have met her.”

“I see. I’ll look into it.”

“Okay. Thanks.” With a wave, Ayato opened the window.

“Good luck tomorrow,” she called after him.

He smiled and leaped out into the night.