CHAPTER 2
ROUND FIVE I
“Wow! S-so this is the special viewing lounge?! Man, this place is amazing! You can see the whole stage from up here! There were so many people at the Gryps, all jumping to their feet whenever they got excited—I couldn’t see the stage at all! But this is like heaven!”
Korona Kashimaru had run right up to the specially made glass window overlooking the stage at Le Wolfe Black Institute’s VIP viewing lounge at the Sirius Dome, her face literally quivering with excitement as she waved her hands back and forth.
“Damn it, Korona! Just shut up for a minute!”
“Eeep…! I—I’m sorry!”
“Tch…!” Dirk clicked his tongue as he rested his chin on his steepled fingers.
Despite how long she had been working for him, Dirk still found himself growing enraged at his unworldly private secretary more times than he could count.
He wasn’t normally one to care for watching the Festa, but this year’s Lindvolus was a special case—this year, he had faithfully come to observe every match in person right from the preliminaries. Not having anyone to delegate the usual petty tasks to, however, had proven to be a hassle, so today he had decided to bring Korona with him—and had regretted doing so almost immediately.
“And that bastard R is as impossible to read as ever…”
He hit a switch with his fingers to enlarge the air-window, glaring at the redheaded young man on the other side.
“And here we are! Le Wolfe’s number two has just made his way through the west gate! With that overwhelming ability of his, capable of manipulating his opponent’s prana, Rodolfo Zoppo has cruised through the first four rounds without even the slightest hiccup!”
“In the first round, he showed us all that he isn’t just a powerful Dante—he’s also got a high mastery of various physical combat techniques. His being pitted against the Ser Veresta is going to be the deciding factor in this match.”
Listening to the announcer, Mico Yanase, and the commentator, Z—or Zaharoula, as she was now known—and watching Rodolfo flash his gleaming white teeth at the crowd as he crossed the bridge onto the stage, Dirk found a torrent of unpleasant memories resurfacing in the back of his mind.
The Institute was a facility that gathered children from all across the world, then investigated and forcefully developed their talents in order to fashion them into valuable commodities. Whether Genestella or regular human, the vast majority of such students were usually orphans or else had been willingly sold to the Institute by their families. Various forms of commodities were produced there, but the main products were fighters, to be sold to private military companies or to Asterisk’s six schools, and those furnished with exceptional intelligence, whom the integrated enterprise foundations purchased as candidates for managerial positions.
Needless to say, Dirk was a regular person of the latter group, while Rodolfo, a Genestella, belonged to the former. By the age of ten, Rodolfo was already being lauded as the Institute’s greatest accomplishment. Dirk, on the other hand, while having performed exceptionally on all the intelligence tests, had always been a hairsbreadth from being cast aside due to his incessantly bad behavior. For the integrated enterprise foundations—or failing that, prestigious families or organizations—a personal record like his was considered a serious defect.
Dirk’s unique talents were borne out by the exceptional results he achieved in every one of his battle simulation tests. No matter how disadvantageous his position, he never gave his ground, never allowed himself to give in to defeat—and no matter how favorable their own state of affairs, his opponents were never able to turn their advantages into victory. It was there that Dirk showed off his talents—in tactical simulations overseeing combat teams and in the management simulations most valued by the foundations—and there that victors and vanquished were born. In fact, the greater the number of his opponents and the greater the complexity of the situation, the more remarkable his achievements.
In other words, Dirk’s talents didn’t lie in achieving victory itself, but rather in obstructing his opponents, in plunging them into chaos, and in forcing them to surrender. Whether or not he himself benefited from those results was immaterial. In short, his talent was the rawest possible manifestation of his hatred and contempt for everything in the world outside himself.
“And now, coming in from the east gate is Seidoukan Academy’s Ayato Amagiri, the Murakumo! Contestant Amagiri has just emerged from a particularly fierce fourth-round match against Queenvale Academy for Young Ladies’ Minato Wakamiya, known as Kennin Fubatsu, and is hoping to score only the second grand slam in the tournament’s history…but he’ll have to overcome Contestant Zoppo first!”
“Based on what we’ve seen from Ayato Amagiri’s past matches, it doesn’t look like he possesses any noteworthy long-range attacks. The Amagiri Shinmei Style does have a school that specializes in archery, but I think it’s fair to say that if he were particularly skilled in it, he would have used it in his match against Wakamiya, to capitalize on her weaknesses. The way I see it, no matter how strong he might be up close, if he tries to fight Rodolfo Zoppo at that range, he’ll find himself in hot water.”
“Oh, I see… So does that mean Rodolfo has the advantage?”
Korona, having seemingly accepted the commentary without question, was watching the air-window wearing an unbelievably stupid smile. She seemed to have already forgotten that Dirk had told her to keep quiet just a short moment ago.
She can be a real pain in the ass…
Dirk, feared and detested even within Le Wolfe itself, had purged the school of any potential opposition to his rule upon assuming the role of student council president. That meant that practically everyone he met tried to suck up to him. Korona was the only person who treated him like a normal human being.
“…It’s not that easy. We’re talking about Ayato Amagiri here,” he answered with a sigh, unable to bring himself to scold her any further.
As much as the fact grated on him, Dirk wasn’t blind to Ayato’s exceptional abilities. More than anyone else, Ayato had been able to bounce back from one overwhelming disadvantage after another to score victory.
As far as the Golden Bough Alliance was concerned, it would be in their interest for him to ultimately take the championship and bring the tournament to an end, and yet…
Well, then again, Rodolfo isn’t going to go down easily, either…
At the Institute, Genestella were required to participate in countless mock battles, but most of Rodolfo’s matches had ended up going far beyond that point—he had practically exterminated his opponents, one and all. And Dirk, acting as his commanding officer, had never done anything to stop him.
Even now, at Le Wolfe, Rodolfo kept his distance. It wasn’t like they viewed each other as old friends, of course, but Rodolfo had no intention of ever following Dirk’s instructions as student council president. That wasn’t to say they were hostile toward one another, but before Dirk could even realize what had happened, Rodolfo had gone and secured his own position as the head of the largest mafia group in the Rotlicht.
“To be perfectly honest, I’d prefer that they both bite the dust out there…”
Speaking for himself, that would be his preferred outcome.
“Huh? Did you say something, sir? Anyway, look! The game’s about to begin!” Korona bounced up and down and waved a hand in excitement as she clung to the window.
Too fed up to even respond, Dirk merely glanced toward her for a brief second before returning his gaze to the air-window.
The intimidation emanating from his opponent across the stage was even more daunting than Ayato had expected.
“Ha-ha! So you’re Ayato Amagiri? Hmm, good, good! This’ll be the most fun I’ve had in a while!” Having looked his competition over from head to toe, Rodolfo broke into a self-satisfied grin.
Judging by the data Ayato had studied, and by the recordings of his previous matches, Rodolfo was a particularly hard foe to figure out. At times, he seemed to enjoy one-sidedly trampling his opponents; at others, he would let them attack to their heart’s content, casually withstanding every blow. In short, he seemed apt to change his fighting style at any given moment based on nothing more than his mood.
The data also mentioned that he was the head of a large mafia group, with a record that Ayato could only describe as nauseating. So completely self-centered was he—single-mindedly fixated on satisfying his every desire, without even the slightest shred of concern for the dignity of others—Ayato considered him some kind of vicious demon.
That said, he had no intention of condemning the man. In the Festa, the only thing that mattered was results—that was true for both honest martial artists like Minato Wakamiya and inhuman fiends like Rodolfo Zoppo.
“We’ll see. I don’t know whether I can meet your expectations, but I’m going to give you everything I’ve got,” he replied, activating the Ser Veresta.
“Hah, that’s fine! I’m going to put everything I’ve got into having a bit of fun!” Rodolfo answered with a flash of his gleaming white teeth, before pivoting and returning to his starting position.
Ayato closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he readied himself.
“Round 5, Match 1—begin!”
As the automated voice rang out, he didn’t waste so much as a second before opening his eyes.
Rodolfo, however, was still standing imposingly at his starting position, his arms crossed.
Ayato similarly maintained his battle stance, holding the Ser Veresta at eye level.
“Oh? Neither contestant has moved a muscle! They must be pretty wary of each other, I guess?”
“Naturally. If Ayato Amagiri makes a wrong move, it will all be over. And Rodolfo Zoppo’s Rect Lux won’t stand up to the Ser Veresta if he doesn’t watch out.”
Well, he doesn’t even look like he’s about to use it, Ayato remarked to himself.
Rodolfo possessed two weapons. The first was his Dante ability, capable of directly interfering with the prana of anyone within his range. The second was his Rect Lux, with its considerable destructive power.
As Zaharoula had observed, had Rodolfo activated that Rect Lux, Ayato would have focused first on destroying it. His opponent, however, didn’t look to be that foolish.
“Hey, hey! What’s all this? You ain’t just gonna stand there, are you? Come at me! You’re gonna disappoint our audience!”
Rodolfo’s tone of voice was provocative, but he did seem to be expressing his honest feelings. And, of course, what he said was true. The crowds, quickly growing impatient at the static state of affairs, began to rain down boos and catcalls.
Something similar had happened in Ayato’s match against the twins from Jie Long during the Phoenix. The audience at the Festa, he knew, had remarkably little patience.
“All right, then, if you insist… Let’s get a move on!”
He didn’t intend to respond to the whims of the spectators, but with that, he began to edge closer to his opponent.
“Ha-ha! That’s more like it!” Rodolfo twisted his lips in a satisfied grin, but still he didn’t move.
“Haaaaaaaaaaaugh!” Ayato cried, leaping forward—but no sooner did he cross an invisible line than he reversed his momentum, jumping back.
“Eh?” Rodolfo raised a quizzical eyebrow, but Ayato paid him little heed as he began to circle around his opponent’s right-hand side before once more edging forward—until he felt a strange shift in the prana in the tips of his toes and immediately leaped backward.
“Ah, I get it. So you’re trying to work out my range! Well, I’m sorry to say that if you try that again, I’ll blow your toes right off!”
“…That’s a bit extreme.”
From what Ayato could surmise based on the recordings of Rodolfo’s previous matches, his opponent’s ability seemed to be effective within about a two-meter radius. That, however, was simply an estimate. The only way to be sure was to test it for himself.
It doesn’t look like it’s quite two… Maybe one meter and ninety-five centimeters?
Even a few centimeters could mean the difference between victory and defeat.
Whatever the case, however, it would be impossible for him to attack from outside Rodolfo’s range.
Just as Zaharoula had said at the beginning of the match, Ayato had no long-range techniques at his disposal. He hadn’t mastered the Amagiri Shinmei Style Archery Technique, and there was no way he could have learned to wield a firearm in the time he’d had before the match (although strictly speaking, the general Amagiri Shinmei Style did have a set of stone-throwing techniques, but there was no way a mere rock would be able to break through his opponent’s defenses).
He could have attempted to use a particularly long weapon, like a spear, but that would severely limit the kinds of moves he would be able to pull off outside Rodolfo’s range. Similarly, he could try to use Meteor Arts to increase the size of the Ser Veresta, but it would be difficult to wield an oversized weapon from such a distance. On top of all that, no matter how good his timing, he suspected that Rodolfo would be able to block or parry any direct attack.
That being the case—
“Phew…”
Deep in concentration, Ayato brought the Ser Veresta down to his side.
“Oh? So you’re finally getting serious about—”
At that moment, Ayato flew right around his opponent, the tip of the Ser Veresta flickering through the air.
He had aimed the blade perfectly. With that trajectory, it should have carved clean through Rodolfo’s school crest, and yet—
“Whoa! That’s more like it! Talk about fast!”
“Ngh…!”
Rodolfo had leaned backward ever so slightly, causing Ayato’s attack to go wide.
“Wooow, th-that was quick! Too fast even to see! And Contestant Zoppo managed to dodge it! Amazing! But why didn’t he use his ability just then?”
“He didn’t have a chance to. Zoppo’s ability works by interfering with the prana of anyone who gets within his range. Naturally, he has to grasp what’s going on if he’s going to use it.”
“I—I see! In other words…Contestant Amagiri’s movements were too fast for him to fully catch!”
There could be no doubting that, with the exception of Orphelia and Lenaty, Ayato had the best overall physical ability of the remaining sixteen contestants. The only others who could hope to match him were Xiaohui and perhaps Sylvia, using one of her strengthening abilities.
While he might not be at Hufeng Zhao’s level, at his maximum speed, it would be difficult even for Rodolfo to catch sight of his movements.
“Ha-ha! Good, good! You’re the first person to jump within my range not out of complete desperation! Talk about a nice change of pace! You’re as good as they say, huh? Yep, pretty impressive!”
“…”
With his opponent in high spirits, Ayato wordlessly brought the Ser Veresta back down to his side. He had wanted to end the match with that last move, but that couldn’t be helped now.
If it didn’t work that time, there probably isn’t much point trying the same thing again…
No matter how fast he moved, he was, when all was said and done, attacking in a straight line. If his opponent caught on to that fact, it would mean the end for him. He had to settle the match before that could happen.
“…Hrrrgh!” He shifted his position from left to right to prevent his opponent from reading his timing, circling behind him to try to get as close as he could before unleashing his next strike.
“Oh, what’s this now?”
Rodolfo glanced over his shoulder, but Ayato had already moved halfway around to his other side, working his way into his opponent’s blind spot.
“Now…!” With that, Ayato swept through Rodolfo’s range, the Ser Veresta gripped in his left hand as he launched into a deep slash.
“Whoa!”
Once more, however, Rodolfo, as if having anticipated his movements, let the strike brush past him without making contact.
The tip of the Ser Veresta had sent a few strands of Rodolfo’s red hair scattering through the air. Ayato watched a murderous glimmer take root in his foe’s eyes behind those dark sunglasses.
Crap…!
At that moment, a deathly chill ran down his spine, and Ayato’s left arm and leg felt as if they were bursting open.
“Hrrrrrrrk…!”
Losing his balance, he found himself falling to the ground, but he realized immediately that his highest priority had to be putting some distance between himself and his opponent. He paused for a moment to see how badly he had been injured, but fortunately he looked to have suffered nothing worse than a few grisly burns, with his uniform torn through in several places. Thankfully, his hands and joints were fine, so the damage wasn’t enough to stop him from fighting.
“Ha-ha-ha! What’s this? Only a light wound? What a shame!”
Rodolfo’s grin remained as placid as ever.
To think that he could work that out after seeing it only once…
Ayato’s opponent’s battle wit was beyond his expectations.
More than anything—
“Amazing! Zoppo not only dodged Amagiri’s attack, but countered with a superb move of his own! Then again, he normally takes down his opponents in one hit, so I guess it wasn’t particularly effective here…?”
“Amagiri’s still moving too quickly. Zoppo still can’t fully catch sight of him, so he was only able to reach the outer layer of Amagiri’s prana. He normally tries to ignite a destructive blast from deep inside his opponents’ bodies, but he wasn’t able to do that here. Anyway, isn’t the fact that he still hasn’t taken a single step from his starting position pretty incredible?”
“Huh?! Ah, r-right, he hasn’t moved at all!”
Indeed, Rodolfo hadn’t adjusted his footing once. Even when dodging Ayato’s attacks, he kept his movements to a bare minimum.
The audience, seemingly having noticed this only now that Zaharoula had pointed it out to them, suddenly buzzed with excitement.
“And he’s fighting the Murakumo! The same Ayato Amagiri who rose to victory in both the Phoenix and the Gryps! Contestant Zoppo is dodging his attacks without even having to lift a finger! He’s certainly earned his reputation as Le Wolfe’s number two, that’s for sure!”
“It’s often said that Le Wolfe’s top-ranked fighters are a step above those from the other schools, but Rodolfo Zoppo really drives that point home. Anywhere else, he would probably have made it to the very top.”
Ayato had to agree with that assessment.
To begin with, if not for Orphelia, who was so clearly beyond the norm, there was no doubt that Rodolfo would have been Le Wolfe’s reigning number one.
On top of that—
“That’ll be enough entertainment for the crowds… Now, my turn,” Rodolfo said, stepping forward as if having been waiting for this opportunity.
Ayato leaped backward half out of reflex, bracing with his blade.
If he’s going to make a move, that might give me a chance…!
While Rodolfo might have already seen through some of his movements, he had yet to fully grasp Ayato’s battle form. If Ayato were to counter now with the Tsugomori, one of the Amagiri Shinmei Style, Ultimate Techniques, he suspected that victory would be his. Given that Rodolfo wasn’t in possession of an Orga Lux like Minato Wakamiya had been, it would be impossible for him to fully protect his school crest.
Of course, Ayato knew that he was unlikely to escape unscathed, but there was truth to the saying that sometimes you had to lose the battle to win the war. He would have no hope of defeating this opponent if he wasn’t willing to take some risks.
“Hmm? Ha-ha… I know those eyes! You want us to take each other down at the same time, eh?” Rodolfo said as he rubbed his chin, evidently having seen through Ayato’s plan. “Ha-ha! Good, give it a go! I’ve got a little something I want to try, too!”
Ayato said nothing, merely squeezing his eyes shut. In the darkness, his heightened senses could make out his opponent’s every move.
Calm and composed, Rodolfo began to walk toward him.
Ayato measured the distance in his mind. Three steps to go, two, one—
“Yaaaaaaaaaaaah!”
Ayato’s body swayed back and forth like a shimmer of hot air as he lunged toward Rodolfo’s chest with all his strength. He had achieved the perfect distance, perfect synchronization, all to unleash a single, inevitable blow that couldn’t be avoided even if it was anticipated.
“…How about this, then?”
The tip of the Ser Veresta, however, failed to cleave through his opponent’s school crest.
Indeed, the blade itself had completely disappeared.
“—?!”
At that exact moment, the prana in Ayato’s chest ignited.
“I-is this it?! Contestant Amagiri has just been engulfed in an explosion of prana! B-but it looked like his attack was a second ahead…?!”
“It probably was… But Zoppo must have cut off the supply of prana feeding into the Ser Veresta.”
“Ah…! I—I see! The Ser Veresta does demand a huge amount of prana from its user! So that’s why its blade disappeared…”
“…Right, so that was what happened…”
Ayato, having been thrown backward by the force of the explosion, and having only narrowly escaped lethal injury, found himself breaking into a strained smile at Zaharoula’s explanation.
“Huh? You’re saying I screwed up twice…?”
Rodolfo’s grin, on the other hand, had completely vanished.
“H-he’s okay! Contestant Amagiri has taken damage, but he’s still standing! And his school crest is still intact, too!”
The explosion must have been limited to the very center of his chest, as there was a large hole burned through his uniform and undergarments, but it wasn’t wide enough to have reached his crest.
“Zoppo hates the idea of taking damage, so it looks like he focused most of his attention on the Ser Veresta. In other words, his counter was a little late, and he was only able to control the uppermost layer of Amagiri’s prana again this time.”
“Hah-hah! You must have damn quick reflexes to have pulled yourself out of that in time! Yep, I’m impressed!” Rodolfo barked, nodding as he activated the Lux attached to his right wrist.
A savage cruelty had worked its way into his grin.
“It looks like Contestant Zoppo is finally activating his Rect Lux!”
With that, three large sword-shaped Rect Lux units materialized, surrounding him on all sides.
In his current situation, Ayato knew, this weapon could prove to be a considerable problem.
Maintaining his vigilance so that he would be able to respond to any oncoming attacks, he checked to see whether the Ser Veresta was still working. Having confirmed that it was fine, he returned it to its activation body and switched to a fresh blade-type Lux.
“Wh-what’s this? Contestant Amagiri has sheathed the Ser Veresta…? What’s going on here? He should be out of Contestant Zoppo’s range, so shouldn’t he be able to use it again now.”
“How stupid are you? What good would a close-range weapon be when he’s not even close enough to use it? And what would he do if Zoppo disabled it while he was trying to dodge one of his attacks?”
“I—I see… But in that case, if Contestant Zoppo was close enough to do that, wouldn’t he just target Contestant Amagiri instead of his weapon…?”
“This gives Amagiri options. Is he going to make Zoppo think he’s coming at him and instead go for his Rect Lux, or is he planning to deal a direct blow? So long as he’s using the Ser Veresta, Rodolfo Zoppo is in control of the situation, not Ayato Amagiri. This changes things.”
It was more than a little creepy just how accurately Zaharoula had read Ayato’s intentions. In any event, so long as Ayato was using a regular Lux, he didn’t need to worry about Rodolfo deactivating it when he got too close. But perhaps more importantly, it was surprisingly difficult for Ayato to focus his attention on both his sword and his opponent.
Not only that, but Rodolfo was unlikely to attack with his Rect Lux so long as Ayato was wielding his Orga Lux—although Rodolfo could likely now approach with minimal risk. That was what had Ayato most on edge.
It’s not like I don’t have any strategies using the Ser Veresta…but it would be a big risk, and the odds don’t look good…
“Come on, let’s have some fun!” Rodolfo declared with his arms outstretched—and at that moment, the three units of his Rect Lux came hurtling toward Ayato.
“Ugh…!”
Ayato braced himself with both hands as he parried the first unit, but the sheer weight behind it was far beyond his expectations. Each of those Rect Lux units was almost as long as he himself was tall. And to top things off, they had him surrounded on three sides as they lay in their assault.
As the second unit swept across in an attempt to knock him off his feet and the third unit thrust down from above, Ayato stepped back to evade the attacks, only to find that Rodolfo had moved into position behind him.
Thanks to the fact that he had already entered the state of shiki, he managed to change course just in time, but the first unit of the Rect Lux was already coming back around to block him.
“What’s wrong now? Don’t tell me you’re gonna run? Ha-ha!” Rodolfo guffawed.
Ayato had little trouble weaving past the oncoming weapon. His opponent’s control over the Rect Lux wasn’t particularly precise, and while they certainly packed power, his ability to operate them paled in comparison to Julis’s. If all Ayato had to worry about were those three units, he would probably be able to keep dodging them indefinitely.
Rodolfo had no doubt realized that, too.
For him, the Rect Lux was merely a way of keeping Ayato tied down. Rodolfo was always going to want to end this match with his own ability. That weapon of his was merely a means of driving out his prey.
All I need is one moment; if I can just make an opening…!
He staved off the next wave of his opponent’s attack, waiting for an opportunity to reveal itself.
With Rodolfo dividing his attention between the three units, it was unlikely that he would be able to maintain his previous reaction speed. There was still a chance that Ayato would be able to counter.
To begin with, it had been the academy’s upper management that had entered the Black Knight into the tournament—the IEF Elliot-Pound. There was no factional infighting among the highest executives, since they had all been subjected to considerable mental adjustment programs, but it was likely that someone a few ranks below was trying to make their presence felt. There would naturally be individuals within the foundation who would be less than pleased with the fact that Elliot, having been named after his prominent forefather, was on track to become the first Genestella to ever enter the organization’s highest ranks. That being the case, it was much more likely that the Black Knight had been entered into the Lindvolus not to improve the academy’s overall score, but rather to damage Elliot’s standing and reputation. After all, if anything were to go wrong, it would be the student council, as the academy’s highest autonomous body, and he himself as its head, who would inevitably take the blame.
Noelle, however, already knew just how unreasonable the world was. No matter whether one was in the right, no matter how kind or gentle one was, no matter how much effort one put into helping those below oneself, one would always be met with unreasonable spite. The world was twisted and ruthless—and right now, that distortion was directed squarely at Elliot.
Noelle would protect him from all that. Just as he had protected her.
She braced herself as a wave of dazzling light and roaring cheers descended upon her as she passed through the entrance gate.
“And now, coming out of the west gate, we’ve got Saint Gallardworth Academy’s number seven, Noelle Messmer, the Witch of Holy Thorns, Perceforêt! Just look at that effervescence as she dashes onto the field!”
“Yep, she’s certainly full of energy, that one.”
At any other time, Noelle would have found herself paralyzed to think that so many people were focusing squarely on her. When she had participated in the Gryps, she had shared the limelight with her teammates. Now, however, she was fighting alone—and yet in spite of that, she could feel the energy welling up inside her.
She ran across the bridge leading from the gate on a single breath, before leaping down onto the stage.
Fuyuka, her lips curled in a graceful smile, was already waiting for her.
“Well, well, aren’t we in high spirits today.”
“Sorry to keep you waiting…”
“Oh, I don’t mind,” Fuyuka replied, raising her hand to conceal a light chuckle.
With her long black hair, graceful narrow eyes, and elegant mannerisms, she was the spitting image of a princess from a Japanese fairy tale. As it happened, the Fuyuka family did seem to have a particularly long history, and the techniques she used weren’t the usual seisenjutsu of students from Jie Long, but rather private secrets passed down through the generations. From what Noelle had heard, it seemed that not even Gallardworth’s secretive intelligence organization Sinodomius had been able to uncover anything more precise than that.
If Asterisk’s best intelligence-gathering network couldn’t find anything, then there’s nothing for it. I’ll just have to do my best…!
Reassuring herself in an attempt to strengthen her resolve, she activated her staff-shaped Lux.
Fuyuka, looking on, pulled out her enchanted folding fan, letting it flutter through the air as she moved to her starting position.
“Round 5, Match 2—begin!”
As the automated voice sounded throughout the stadium, Noelle activated her ability. A verdant carpet of thorns erupted beneath her feet, quickly eating into all her surroundings.
“Here it is! Contestant Messmer’s area ability! These thorns of hers can cover the entire stage in a flash! You wouldn’t think someone as cute as her could be capable of such a nasty attack!”
“That area ability will probably take a bit of time to fully activate, but she’s certainly much faster at deploying it now than she was during the Gryps. It’s pretty impressive.”
The announcer, Nana Andersen, along with the commentator, Chitose Sakon, were the same as during last year’s Gryps, so they knew what they were talking about.
At the Liangshan, Noelle had focused on developing her abilities. A Strega’s abilities were inherently linked to their strength of will and were, in a very real way, a mirror of their innermost self. And so her own abilities, taking the form of a forest of thorns, were based on her reserved and withdrawn nature.
Developing and extending one’s abilities meant analyzing and understanding one’s true self. As unpleasant as it had been, Noelle had directly confronted her weak heart and strengthened her powers. It was a grueling process—but thanks to it, she had made dramatic progress. Her final rank at the Liangshan had been that of otsubu, second from the top, but for an ability that in the past had only been suited to support, the speed of deployment, the strength, and the range she had been able to achieve were remarkable.
“Now go!” she commanded, and the forest of thorns suddenly undulated, speeding toward Fuyuka like a tsunami.
“Why, if it isn’t just like Birnam Wood. I suppose that makes me Macbeth?” Fuyuka said with a carefree laugh as she turned over her fan. “Jí jí rú lu lìng, chì!”
That low, whispering voice echoed across the stage—and with it, countless shikigami emerged from the air to protect their summoner.
The first was a huge one-legged monster, followed by a giant spider-like creature with horns like a bull, the next flames in the shape of a jeering skull… One after another, grotesque monsters of all shapes and forms began to tear into her wave of thorns with their fangs and claws, until they had brought its advance to a sudden halt.
“And here we are, Contestant Umenokouji’s veritable pandemonium of shikigami, the Hyakki Yakou! Just look at them tear right into that wall of thorns! No matter how many times I see them, they still give me the creeps!”
“Th-there’s nothing scary about it, right? N-not at all! Seriously! I’m fine with it, really!”
It wasn’t long before the army of shikigami successfully broke through Noelle’s advance. But the time it took them to do so wasn’t enough.
Before her eyes, the wide swaths they had torn through her thorns began to regenerate, just as more surged from behind.
“Mow them down!”
The blanket of thorny ivy pressed forward as instructed, stretching out into a huge whip and cutting through the shikigami. With each swing of that weapon, at least a dozen of the summoned creatures were swept away in clouds of smoke—and while there were many of them, individually, they weren’t particularly sturdy.
“Oh dear, my poor little shikigami…”
Fuyuka broke into a sorrowful frown, but her creatures had become so few in number that they were no longer able to fully protect her.
If I can just keep this up…!
Noelle’s forest of thorns had already wrapped around the defensive line of the shikigami and were close to bearing down on Fuyuka.
The true power of area abilities lay in controlling the battlefield itself. Now that Noelle had come this far, she had the unmistakable advantage.
“Hmm, you’ve done better than I thought…” Fuyuka chuckled to herself. “Well, I must say that I was growing bored, so now would be a good time…”
She clicked her folding fan shut and returned it to her pocket.
“I beseech thee, oh Taisai, that Ouban’s comet drive out evil, that thou grant me the protection of the Dragon King of the Sea…,” she intoned, making a sequence of hand gestures at an unbelievable speed, before finally bringing her right hand down in a chopping motion. “Jí jí rú lu lìng, chì!”
Less than a second later, Noelle’s tide of thorns broke through the defenses of her opponent’s shikigami and seemed to swallow her whole.
However—
“Huh…?!”
With a brilliant flash of red light, the thorns surrounding her foe were pushed aside. When the light abated, Fuyuka was standing there looking invigorated, without even having broken a sweat. The problem now was the giant demon looming over her—more than two meters in height, its muscular body covered with deep-red skin. Two horns sprouted from its forehead, and it had three brilliant eyes. It was clothed in an old-fashioned suit of armor, and in its right hand it grasped a huge double-edged ax. A thick chain dangled from the handle, the end of which the demon held in its left hand.
A new shikigami…? No, wait, that’s…!
The moment Noelle’s eyes fell upon that figure, she felt a sense of dread that she had never before experienced course through her body—or perhaps, she wondered, the feeling was more akin to awe? She found her legs trembling at the sight of the bizarre, intimidating monstrosity.
“Ah, thank you, Gigoku. You’re such a wonderful help.”
And then the creature Fuyuka had called Gigoku began to speak: “If you are in need, Master, you should have summoned me sooner. Though this be but a game for you, your foe plays it in earnest.”
“Wha—?! It talked?! H-hold on, the shikigami talked?! Chitose!”
“That’s… I suppose it’s not just acting autonomously, then… It must have real intelligence if it can communicate like that… But I’ve never seen a Strega or Dante do anything like that before… It’s impossible! It’s beyond even Ernesta’s puppets…!”
It seemed that even the commentator Chitose, a graduate of Allekant, couldn’t believe her eyes.
Noelle, however, had already returned to her senses.
She called back the thorns that still blanketed most of the stage, weaving them into a different shape. This new shikigami looked to be much stronger than the previous ones. If she was going to win, she would have to put everything she had into this contest.
“Titan of thorns, come forth!”
For Elliot’s sake, she couldn’t afford to lose now. No matter what happened, she had to win.
“Oh… You have a bold spirit, child.”
At that moment, as she exchanged glances with the shikigami—Gigoku—she was engulfed by her summoned thorns. They lifted her high into the air, and in her place rose a towering humanoid figure.
The titan she had weaved out of her thorns was almost ten meters in height—at least three times the size of Fuyuka’s Gigoku.
Noelle had been focusing on more than just polishing her Strega abilities at the Liangshan. Her training with Xinglou had been based on real combat, so she had been forced to pick up a few close-combat techniques whether she had wanted to or not. Without such moves, she wouldn’t have lasted a minute against her teacher. Even Noelle, who normally kept to the rear guard, couldn’t escape that reality.
And so she had crafted this giant being to best apply the hand-to-hand techniques she already knew. Weak and fragile as a Genestella in her own right, she had compensated by using her abilities to fashion this suit of armor.
“Raaaaaaaaaaaaah!”
Moving to Noelle’s bidding, the thorny titan raced toward Gigoku, slamming its fist down on it.
“…Alas, it is but a mere trifle.” Gigoku, however, with a simple swipe of its ax, sent the titan’s arm flying from its shoulder—and, through some means Noelle couldn’t fathom, stopped the thorns from regenerating.
“Erg…!”
She struck again with her remaining arm, but her foe destroyed that, too, just as easily.
“Too weak.”
“It isn’t over yet!”
If she couldn’t regenerate the lost limbs, she would simply weave the titan anew.
Since she had entered the tournament, she could sense that her abilities had developed even further. She didn’t waste so much as a second before sending a geyser of thorns greater in number and faster than ever before hurtling toward Gigoku.
“Oh dear, that is something,” Fuyuka chuckled.
But even with the attack descending on them, neither she nor her shikigami showed any sign of concern.
“Zh?n…!”
Gigoku moved to protect Fuyuka, swinging its ax as if it were a sickle and chain, cleaving her titan in half from top to bottom.
“Graaaaaaaaah!”
As a last resort, Noelle directed the remaining parts of the titan to fall toward her opponent, hoping to crush her underfoot, and yet—
“Yes, a fine spirit…”
The moment the fallen titan made contact with the palm of Gigoku’s outstretched hand, her giant foe blew each and every thorn Noelle had put into it away with a tremendous shock wave.
Noelle, caught in the middle of the powerful impact, felt herself wavering in and out of consciousness.
“End of battle! Winner: Fuyuka Umenokouji!”
The last thing she heard was the automated announcement signaling the end of the match, followed by Fuyuka’s cool, tranquil voice, like chimes ringing in the distance: “Good work, Gigoku. I see you haven’t put those thousand years of yours to waste.”
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