Gakusen Toshi Asterisk - Volume 14 - Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6 
ENCOUNTERS 
“Tch! Did you come here to gloat, Julis?” 
No sooner had he raised himself from his hospital bed and caught sight of his visitor than Lester’s face turned sour. 
“I thought I’d offer some words of comfort…but you sound well enough. Maybe I shouldn’t have worried?” 
“Quit screwing with me!” 
“I’m joking, of course. I was pretty badly beaten up myself during my last match, so I thought I’d drop by, seeing as I was here anyway,” Julis said, lifting her bandage-wrapped right arm for him to see. 
The painkillers were supposed to have completely numbed her injuries, but she could still feel a dull throbbing coursing through her flesh. Given that the bone was broken, though, that probably couldn’t be helped. 
On top of that, her whole body was riddled with more cuts and bruises than she could possibly count. Still, she had to admit, that was a small price to pay for having defeated Xiaohui Wu. 
“Hmph! You must be pretty pleased to have made it through to the next round! I, on the other hand…” Lester stopped there, turning his head away from her. 
“What are you talking about? You won yours, too.” 
Julis had meant to console him, but she couldn’t say she didn’t understand his feelings. 
“What’s the point of winning if I can’t even make it to the next match?!” he bellowed in anger. 
Lester had only barely won his fifth-round match against the Black Knight earlier that day, and he had lost consciousness immediately afterward. After he was brought to the hospital, the director, Jan Korbel, had decided that he required special treatment by someone with healing abilities. 
As a general rule, any Festa entrant whose wounds were treated by a healer was automatically disqualified from the tournament. While strictly speaking, the decision was always subject to the will of the Executive Committee, it was fair to say that there were hardly any exceptions. 
In other words, Lester had been left unable to participate in his quarterfinal match, despite having won his previous one. 
Incidentally, while Claudia had received treatment from a healer in the middle of the previous Gryps, the injuries she had sustained then weren’t received in the course of the tournament, so the Executive Committee had been willing to look the other way. After all, there were plenty of other ways penalties could be levied. 
“Damn it! You can’t just go around doing whatever the hell you want to people!” 
“Don’t say that… They wouldn’t have used a healer if you didn’t need one.” 
Healers were only used in exceptional circumstances. Even if someone wanted help, treatment wouldn’t be offered unless the patient’s wounds were life-threatening. 
“That’s easy enough for you to say, Julis! You’ve basically just won your next match by default! I’ll bet you’re happy!” 
“Well, it is a stroke of luck.” 
Julis knew Lester was merely venting his anger on her, but she nonetheless nodded along to him with a reserved smile. After all, if he hadn’t been disqualified, the two of them would be facing each other in the quarterfinals. 
“Why, you…!” Lester glared at her, his expression screaming death. 
Julis paid him no mind as she continued: “As you can see, I’m not in good shape, either. Winning by default is probably the best thing that could happen to me right now. However…if we were to fight each other, both of us at our full strength, the result wouldn’t be any different. I would still win.” 
“Tch!” Lester’s face turned red with anger as he tried to push himself up on his bed, but it wasn’t long before he raised his hand to his chest, groaning in pain. 
“Good grief… Here I was thinking you’d matured a little, but you’re as impulsive as ever. You almost died out there, so just lie back and get some rest, won’t you?” With this, Julis turned her back on him. “You’ll probably just say you don’t believe me, though, so I’ll prove it to you. When the Lindvolus is over.” 
“What…?” 
“I’m saying that I’ll challenge you in an official ranking match. So…don’t get too discouraged.” 
Julis headed for the exit without even looking back. 
“What…? Wait, Julis! Did you honestly come here to try to make me feel better, or—” Lester called after her in confusion, but Julis closed the door behind her, not bothering to wait for him to finish. 
And then— 
“Dear me… You do like to tease, don’t you, Julis?” 
Claudia stood a little down the corridor, as if she had been waiting for her all along, and winked at her in jest. 
“…That’s not it. This was about what I needed,” Julis responded somewhat awkwardly, averting her gaze. 
Julis had watched the recording of Lester’s match after her own had finished and couldn’t help but be impressed by his performance. But what had struck her so profoundly wasn’t that so much as his sheer tenacity, his unrelenting drive to win. In a way, he reminded her of herself. 
“Enough about me. What are you doing here?” 
“Even if he can’t compete in the quarterfinals, MacPhail has certainly made a considerable contribution to our academy’s standing. As student council president, it’s only natural for me to thank him for his efforts, no?” 
Right. A full half of the eight contestants who had made it through to the quarterfinals represented Seidoukan Academy—which meant that, no matter how the tournament ended, the school had already acquired enough points to secure its victory for the present cycle. Even if every one of Seidoukan’s remaining fighters was to lose in the quarterfinals (although given that Julis would have faced Lester, one of them would have made it through to the next round), and even if Fuyuka Umenokouji took the championship for Jie Long, currently in second place, Seidoukan would still win overall. 
“Of course, we’re very grateful to you as well, Julis. Thank you.” 
“I don’t need your thanks,” Julis said, before continuing down the hallway toward the exit, when Claudia called out behind her, her voice tinged with sadness: 
“Wait. We all know that you’re wrestling with some kind of situation. And that you can’t share it with anyone. But in spite of that…isn’t there anything we can do to help you…? As friends?” 
“…” Julis bit her lip, slowly shaking her head. “You can hurry up and do something to help him—and his sister,” she squeezed out, before hastily making her departure. 
In a special room in a separate section of the hospital, Allekant Académie’s Magnum Opus, Hilda Jane Rowlands, lay motionless in the center of her bed—and next to her stood a figure, or more appropriately, an Orga Lux. 
“I thought to use you as insurance for when Madiath’s plan fails…but it looks like you met your downfall first,” murmured that Orga Lux, the Varda-Vaos, as she stared at Hilda’s sleeping countenance. 
The poison Orphelia had used against her was acting directly on her prana. Neutralizing it would undoubtedly prove difficult even for Jan Korbel. On top of that, Hilda possessed several holes. Not even Varda could estimate when she might awaken. It might take only a few days, but it might also take ten or even twenty years. 
“We can’t afford to wait for you. I’m going to have to settle our accounts now.” 
With that, Varda began to adjust Hilda’s memories, sorting through her accumulated knowledge. 
They might not be of much immediate use, but it would be a shame for the results of her research to be completely forgotten. 
And they might one day help Varda accomplish her own true goals. 
“…Well, we won’t need them if everything goes according to plan this time. Ah, human sentimentality can be such a nuisance.” 
Having taken everything she could, Varda breathed a quiet sigh, before disappearing back into the shadows. 
 
At the Canopus Dome… 
“—!” 
“Hold on, you’re… Right, right! Miss Saya Sasamiya!” 
Saya had been hastily making her way through the corridors of the Canopus Dome when a woman dressed in a white lab coat appeared before her. 
“…Ernesta Kühne.” 
Her next opponent, albeit in name only. 
Behind her, a small figure came strolling down the hallway with a bounce in her step. 
“Huh? Hey, hey, Mom! Is this that person you were talking about, the one Lena gets to fight soon?” 
It was Lenaty, Ernesta’s newest autonomous puppet, and Saya’s actual next opponent. 
“It is. Do you remember watching the recording of her last match?” 
“Yep, Lena remembers her! But if that’s all she’s got, it’s gonna be a piece of cake! Nee-hee-hee!” Lenaty broke out into an innocent laugh, hiding her mouth behind her hand. 
“Hmph! Your little brat sure knows how to introduce herself.” 
“Huh?! Lena’s not a brat!” 
“Heh-heh, only a brat would get upset over something as little as that.” 
“Argh! You’re one to talk! Just look how little your breasts are!” 
“Ngh! How rude… I’ve got a much nicer body than you do.” 
“Lena can her change her body! So there!” 
“Well, I’m still growing. Why don’t you try to calculate what I’ll look like in a few years’ time? You’ll be in for a bit of a shock.” 
“Hrmmmmmph!” 
“Mmmmmmrrn!” 
Saya and Lenaty both stepped forward, glaring fiercely at one another and about to butt heads. 
“Ah, why don’t we leave it at that, you two?” Ernesta said, separating them, her expression one of exaggerated surprise. “By the way, what brings you to the Canopus Dome, Saya? And here I was thinking your match was down at the Capella Dome.” 
“That’s…” Pulling herself away from Lenaty, Saya cast her gaze to the far side of the corridor. 
“…Ah, I see. So that’s it.” 
It seemed that was enough for Ernesta to get a handle on the situation. 
“You know, Camilla talks about you a lot. I’ve been absent a bit since our match at the Phoenix, but I hear you two have developed quite the relationship.” 
“…You make it sound like we’re lovers. I only discuss technical matters with her when she comes to Seidoukan to work on the Rect Luxes. She’s my…rival. We’ve got a score to settle.” 
“Sorry, my apologies. I meant nothing by it. It’s just, well…given the situation, I’m not in much of a position to comfort her.” Ernesta paused there, staring at the ground. There was a hint of loneliness in her voice. 
“…I’m surprised. I didn’t know you were capable of caring for others.” 
“Oh dear, you are rude! Well, I can’t really deny it, but I do try to do what I can for my one true friend.” She may have been trying to make it look like she was joking, but Saya suspected she meant what she said. 
Saya knew also what she meant by what I can. No matter how much she cared for Camilla, Ernesta was the kind of person who would put that friendship aside to pursue her own dreams and ambitions without a second thought. 
“Well then, all the best.” With a wave of her hand, Ernesta set off down the corridor. 
“Nyehhh! Lena’s going to crush you tomorrow!” Lenaty added, sticking her tongue out at her before running off after her creator. 
Saya fell deep into thought for a brief moment, before calling after her: “Wait, Ernesta Kühne.” 
She didn’t know how far it was wise to pry, but this was a one-in-a-thousand chance. 
“Yes?” Ernesta spun around. “What is it?” 
There was only one thing for it—Saya would put it to her point-blank. 
“Why are you helping the Golden Bough Alliance?” 
“!” Ernesta’s eyes opened wide in surprise but quickly narrowed, catlike, as she gave a demure smile. “My, what do you mean? I’m afraid I don’t have the faintest idea what you’re talking about.” 
“…I see. Forget about it.” 
Liar… 
Saya had a hard time reading Ernesta, given her often flippant attitude, but it was clear enough that she wasn’t telling the truth now. 
“Well then, bye-bye.” 
Saya glared after Ernesta as she disappeared down the corridor, only allowing herself to relax once she was completely out of sight. Letting out a deep sigh, she pulled out her mobile and sent Claudia a message to tell her what had just happened. 
With that, she pulled herself together and set off once more down the corridor to Camilla’s prep room. 
No sooner did she knock on the door than an air-window popped open before her. 
“Who is it?” 
“Me” was all she said, but the door nonetheless slid open. 
“I’m a little tied down at the moment. Just take a seat over there somewhere.” 
In the center of her prep room, Camilla was busy repairing Rimcy, completely surrounded by spare pieces and equipment. 
“You don’t need to do it all here, you know…” 
“This is just a bit of first-aid. The damage was severe. She can’t even move by herself. I can’t get her to the lab without pulling her apart.” Camilla’s sentences were short and to the point. She didn’t even glance over her shoulder toward her visitor. 
Saya said nothing, merely watching as she worked. 
Rimcy, perhaps deactivated, was similarly silent. 
The only sound echoing through the prep room was that of Camilla working with her various components. 
Only after Saya had lost all track of time did Camilla speak up: “I’m sorry. I couldn’t keep our promise. To settle everything between us during the tournament.” 
“You don’t need to apologize.” 
In a different reality, it might have been Saya who had been defeated. 
“We can face each other any time you want…” 
“No, it’s over,” Camilla answered despondently. 
“What…do you mean?” Saya asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion. 
Only then, for the first time since Saya had arrived, did Camilla put down her tools. “I’ve… We’ve lost. Rimcy accepts it as much as I do.” 
“Indeed. Master Camilla is correct.” Rimcy’s voice—proving that she was in fact awake—was devoid of emotion. 
“It was Ernesta Kühne and Lenaty who beat you, not me. That shouldn’t change anything between us.” 
“That’s true. And yet…it made me realize all over again just how much less talented I am.” 
“Talented?” 
“You saw the match, right? Between Rimcy and Lenaty?” 
As Saya nodded, Camilla shook her head, her lips twisting in a self-deprecating smile. 
“Controlling the urm-manadite core with the LOBOS transition method… The fact that Ernesta thought to do that in the first place shows just how extraordinary she is. But it’s not just that. The worst of it is that even with all the data staring right at me, I couldn’t see through it…” 
“Your area of expertise is Luxes, not puppets. So—” 
“So what? There’s no helping it? Maybe you’re right. But I’ve been working with her for years. I can’t forgive myself that easily. And then there’s that thing you used in your match…the S-Module, was it?” 
Saya had touched on her new creation during her winner’s interview. Perhaps, she thought, Camilla had been tuning in. 
“That idea is just as extraordinary as Ernesta’s. It’s beyond my reach.” 
“I concur. As a mere tool, I cannot comment on Master Camilla’s talent, but at the very least, I am no match for Lenaty. I couldn’t even satisfy her in battle. But you, Saya Sasamiya…I believe you can. And so I admit defeat.” 
“…I see.” Having listened to their explanations, Saya, arms crossed, nodded. “I understand what you’re trying to say. But so what?” 
“Huh…?” 
“I just want to settle our score because I’m not happy with the way we left things. That’s all.” 
Both Camilla and Rimcy stared back at her blankly. 
“Talented, undefeatable opponents? I’m surrounded by more than enough of those. A beautiful tsundere princess with a wickedly nice body; a sword-fighting prodigy who always acts like a small, frightened animal; and don’t forget the world’s top idol. I want to tell them all to just shut up sometimes. I do tell them: Just cut it out, already!” 
“Huh? Sasamiya…? What are you…?” 
“But me, I’m short and underdeveloped, I wouldn’t stand a chance against them in battle, and even when I want to help people, there are so many things that are just beyond me. But that’s why I’m never going to give up. I couldn’t live with myself. And that’s got nothing to do with how I feel about Ayato. Because my heart belongs to me, and I’m not going to compare it to others’.” 
“…!” 
“That’s why… But, uh, wait,” Saya murmured. “What were we talking about, again?” She seemed to have gone quite a bit off topic. “Anyway, what I’m saying is—” 
“It’s okay,” Camilla chuckled, holding a hand in the air to urge her to stop. “I understand. You’re right, of course. It isn’t fair for me to just give up after everything that’s happened. I take back what I said.” 
“As do I,” Rimcy concurred, exchanging a glance with her creator. “I shudder to think how that wooden blockhead must be laughing at me right now.” 
“Good.” Saya nodded in satisfaction before continuing: “By the way… The way I see it, your talents are in no way second to Ernesta Kühne’s.” 
“…If you’re trying to make me feel better, it’s not necessary.” 
“It’s the truth. You’ve got a different kind of talent. Hers is the kind that pushes the world forward—yours is the kind that stabilizes it, that makes it a safer place. Sure, the former is important, but sometimes it’s dangerous to rush too far ahead.” 
“Rushing too far ahead…,” Camilla repeated in apparent realization, with an expression that looked as if she had bitten down on a dozen bitter-tasting bugs. 
“Me and my dad probably fall into that category, too. That’s why most of the things we put together are pretty unbalanced. So maybe you weren’t exactly wrong when you said what you did when we first met. Not that I’m going to admit that, though.” 
For her, that was a matter of pride. 
“And as for my S-Module, it’s still not finished. I had no idea when it would blow up. If you had designed it, it’d probably be a lot more stable.” 

“…Why would you wield something so fragile? But now that you mention it, it did look somewhat uneven when you first activated it. Wouldn’t that suggest a problem with the central core?” 
“Hmm, you’ve got a good eye. Actually…” Saya brought up the data on the S-Module with her mobile, when her hand suddenly fell still. After all, Camilla belonged to Allekant Académie, one of her rival schools, and despite everything remained good friends with her next opponent, Ernesta Kühne. If she were acting logically, it would be unthinkable for her to share this data. 
And yet… 
“…Why not?” she whispered to herself, passing her mobile along. 
“I don’t know how I’m going to repay you,” Camilla said as she looked over the data. 
“Um, Master Camilla… Please don’t forget about me,” murmured Rimcy, watching from the sidelines, her hesitant voice nonetheless containing a hint of happiness. 
 
Xinglou sat perched upon her throne in the audience chamber at Jie Long Seventh Institute’s Hall of the Yellow Dragon. 
“Have you finished your detox, Xiaohui?” she asked. 
Xiaohui, kneeling before her, answered simply: “Yes.” 
“It was a shame how your match ended.” 
“I regret that I failed to meet your expectations, Master. It pains me to think how much I have yet to learn.” 
“Oh-ho! Don’t look so troubled, Xiaohui! I’m very satisfied. Yes indeed. More satisfied than I’ve been in a long, long time.” Xinglou paused there, clapping her hands in delight as if to illustrate her point, before leaning forward and fixing him with a broad grin. “You’ve acquired new skills, I see. Your Al-Najmiya is truly impressive. I’ve known about ways of adjusting one’s prana, but I’ve never dabbled in such techniques myself. It doesn’t meld well with transmigration, you see.” 
“…So I’ve been told.” 
Indeed, the old man from whom Xiaohui had learned Al-Najmiya was a longtime acquaintance of Xinglou’s. It was pure chance that had led Xiaohui to him—or rather, that had led the master of Al-Najmiya to Xiaohui when he had been lost deep in the forests of Europe. 
“What’s all this now? Here I was thinking that a promising young fellow had finally crossed the barrier, but you’re that witch’s student. You shouldn’t get an old man’s hopes up like that… Begone! Begone now!” 
Xiaohui recalled the moment when the old master of Al-Najmiya had appeared, specterlike amid the dense fog-laden woodland, as if he were standing directly in front of him. His body had been unusually thin, like a withered tree; he had a long white mustache; and he was dressed in a ragged, worn robe, looking for all the world like a sorcerer stepping out of an ancient fairy tale. 
He appeared as an apparition, with Xiaohui able to see partly through him to the treescape beyond. At first, he had thought the man was using some kind of illusion technique, but he quickly realized just how mistaken that assumption was. As difficult as it was to believe, the old man had left his physical body behind and had transferred his consciousness into nothing less than raw prana. 
“He is one of those who have chosen to remain in this world for longer than his time, though in a way unlike myself. You might say that he’s similar to those beings on the other side that we know as gods. Although he’s rather stunted compared to them. Oh-ho!” Xinglou’s gaze became unusually nostalgic, as if she were talking about an old friend. “He’s gone a bit senile, though, and he was always more than a little eccentric. You did well to scrape together what you could of his secrets. He isn’t much of a teacher.” 
“I am grateful to him for allowing me to stay for as long as I did.” 
As it happened, the old man had never once revealed his name. In the realm of magic, names were said to be a source of power, so Xiaohui had always referred to him simply as the old man. 
The old man had allowed him to remain in his hidden retreat on one condition—that Xiaohui work as his assistant. After all, while the old man possessed numerous mechanical dolls that saw to most of his necessities, the flesh-and-blood Xiaohui had been a great help to his experiments. 
Indeed, the old man spent the majority of his days working away at experiments beyond Xiaohui’s comprehension—experiments to discern the secrets of the world. At first, he had been unable to grasp even the smallest fragment of that knowledge, but after six months of faithfully carrying out the old man’s instructions, he finally experienced a revelation—the way of optimizing his prana for various situations. It was a much less developed version of the technique the old man employed, but for Xiaohui, who had set out on his journey in pursuit of a new path, it was like divine guidance. 
“You have probably realized this yourself by now, Xiaohui…but you’re weaker than you were before. If you fought today as you had before you had left, I doubt you would have lost to Julis.” 
“I know.” 
He already knew Xinglou spoke the truth. 
It wasn’t a problem of strength or techniques. Physically and mentally, he was much stronger today than he had been then, and having discovered Al-Najmiya, his range of techniques had similarly broadened. 
No, what had changed was his fighting style. 
“Oh-ho! Good, good! It’s like you’ve been reborn. Life itself is conflict, and you’re in the middle of relearning everything from scratch. What do you think? Fighting, polishing your skills, pushing yourself to overcome your foes—it’s exhilarating, wouldn’t you say? The old you paid no heed to your opponents. All you looked toward was me. So really, you were merely playing by yourself.” 
“It shames me to think about it now.” Xiaohui, still kneeling before his master, lowered his head. 
“No, it is one way. I won’t deny that. But if you had stayed on that path, you would have forever remained my highest disciple.” Xinglou paused there for a moment, nodding to herself. “However, you have left that path and stepped out into the wild unknown. I doubt you realize just how pleased I am to see that!” 
“…I can’t yet hope to surmise your feelings, Master. But I will prove myself worthy of you. I have engraved your words that day into my heart.” 
Xinglou’s words—or rather, Xiaoyuan’s—were as fresh now as they had been then. 
“I will make you stronger, Xiaohui. Stronger, stronger, stronger, until one day you will be even stronger than I am… Satisfy me. That is all I wish from you.” 
If he was to ever fulfill his master’s wish, Xiaohui knew, he wouldn’t be able to remain her disciple forever. Strictly speaking, if all he wanted to do was equal her or move beyond her in her old age, he might be able to carry out the literal meaning of the words. But that level of arrogance wasn’t worthy of Xinglou, the Ban’yuu Tenra. 
And so he had vowed to surpass her by himself, to train and to learn until he could truly give her what she wanted. 
“I swear to you, Master, that one day…one day I will not only stand shoulder to shoulder with you…I will surpass you.” 
“—!” At this declaration, Xinglou’s small body began to quiver, until a look of utmost joy took over her face. “Oh-ho…! Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho! Wonderful! Ah, it makes my heart ache!” she exclaimed with elation, leaping down from her throne and wrapping her thin little arms around his neck. 
“M-Master…?!” 
“…You’ve become a fine young man, Xiaohui.” 
Her voice was deep and quiet and seeped all the way into his core. 
And then, at the next moment— 
“Pò!” 
Xiaohui found himself being thrown backward through the air. 
In that upside-down world, his eyes could focus on nothing but Xinglou’s ferocious grin. 
“I can’t wait any longer! Let’s have a go! I need a taste of that Al-Najmiya!” she cried as she launched herself through the air in a follow-up attack. 
Xiaohui returned her buoyant grin, casting a spell charm to use as a foothold as he readied himself to defend. “As you wish!” 
 
“Keeeee! I object! It’s not right!” came a loud squeal from the table at the back of the Macondo café. 
“…Um, Violet? I need to be heading home soon.” 
Minato, her chin resting in her hands as she watched Violet, sitting across from her, finish her giant parfait, let out a tired sigh. 
“No! You need to stay with me until I feel better…! Um, Chelsea! Can we have another one of those special fruit parfaits?!” 
“Coming right up! It’s nice to have customers at this hour! It’s normally so quiet around now!” 
“Not another one…” 
Unlike the good-humored Chelsea, even more cheerful than usual at the prospect of continued sales, Minato let her shoulders slump. 
“I know you’re disappointed about losing, but I’m in the same boat you are… You’ve just got to accept it and move on to the next one, you know? I mean, you can’t just keep eating like this.” 
“I don’t want to hear your logic right now! And don’t lump us together like that! You were eliminated in the fourth round! I made it all the way into the fifth!” 
“Ah…” 
There was no point going over it again. 
Resigning herself to her fate, Minato opened the menu once more, hoping to find a parfait or some other sweet they hadn’t already tried, when the bell by the door sounded. It might have been nearly closing time, but by the looks of it, another customer had just entered the café. 
“Welco—Huh?!” Chelsea’s shock seemed to echo throughout the whole room. 
“What is it, Chel—What?!” 
Wondering what had just happened, Minato turned around, only to find the person she would have least expected to see standing in the entrance. 
“What’s going on? You were just… Huuuuuuuuuuuhhh!” 
Violet, the last to realize who had entered, let out a wild shriek, turning suddenly stiff. 
“Ah, here you are. Sylvie said I might find you here.” 
“Sorry to disturb you.” 
The man staring warmly toward them—Ayato Amagiri—approached their table, along with a young woman Minato had never seen before. Judging by the young woman’s uniform, she was a member of the city guard. 
“A-a-ah, Mister Amagiri…! Wh-wh-wh-wh-what are you doing here…?” 
“Oh? Ah, you’re the girl Saya fought earlier today… Right, aren’t you two friends?” 
“Ah, well, something like that…” 
Violet, flustered, brushed her hands all over her hair and her face, which had turned completely scarlet. Minato decided to leave her as she was for a moment, turning instead to their visitor. 
“C-congratulations on your match. I hope you weren’t too badly hurt?” 
The word going around, after all, was that Ayato had sustained considerable injuries from his match against Le Wolfe’s Basadone, Rodolfo Zoppo. 
“Thank you for asking. My right leg’s a little sore, but the other one’s okay.” 
“You’re pretty lucky to have gotten off so lightly against that unwieldy Rect Lux,” said the woman in the Stjarnagarm uniform, patting him affectionately on the head. 
Minato had no idea who she was, but judging by the familiarity of that action, they had to be very close… 
“Um… Mister Amagiri… Who is this person…?” 
“Ah, I meant to introduce myself. Nice to meet you, Minato. My name is Haruka. I’m Ayato’s sister.” 
“What?! M-Mister Amagiri has a sister?! I-it’s a pleasure to meet you, too!” 
Minato bowed her head in greeting, with Violet quickly following suit: “N-n-n-n-nice to meet you!” 
“And you must be Violet. Your match with Saya was amazing. I was on the edge of my seat the whole time!” Haruka said. 
“Right. We might have been put against one another if the bracket had been drawn differently. I wonder what would have happened then…,” Ayato added, nodding. 
“Th-th-that’s…! I—I…!” 

 

“And… Er, Violet… Do you know there’s cream on your nose?” 
“Huh?! Ah, wh-why…?! Argh!” 
Out of joy or embarrassment—or perhaps both—Violet’s face turned bright red, and she slumped down in her seat. She looked happy, so Minato decided to leave it at that. 
“Um, er… Did you want me? I—I haven’t done anything wrong, if that’s what—” 
“Huh? No, no, not at all. This is unrelated to my work with the city guard… Well, I suppose it isn’t entirely unrelated, but anyway. There’s something I want to ask you.” 
“Me…?” 
What on earth could it be? 
“It’s…personal, and we don’t mean to intrude…,” Ayato began with an apologetic frown. “But we’d like you to tell us about the incident in which your father died.” 
 
“Stop giving me the creeps, Orphelia. What the hell’s going on with you today?” Dirk spat out across the room aboard the airship flying high over Asterisk. 
Orphelia, meanwhile, was staring out into the deep night sky, her eyes filled with characteristic melancholy. To Dirk, those eyes were no less nauseatingly unpleasant than they had been the first time he had met her. 
“…Nothing. I just fought like I always do.” 
“So she put up more of a fight than you were expecting, then?” 
If Orphelia had gone all out from the beginning of her fifth-round match with Hilda, there would have been no need to prolong the struggle for as long as she had. 
“Perhaps what we should be doing is praising Rowlands. In theory, at least, her power ought to have been the equal of that of our friend here,” Madiath, sitting directly across from him, interrupted. 
Dirk clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Tch! Do you really have to butt in every single time someone says something? This was all about the fact that we stole this one from right under that lunatic scientist’s nose! Just how much do you think that cost us? Oh, but I’m sure you already know the answer to that!” 
“But is that power not wearing down Orphelia’s life? If she were to die now, it would be us who would be most disadvantaged.” This time it was Varda, sitting to his right, who interjected. 
“I’m not saying she should go and kill herself! It’s like each and every one of you just has to… Fine! She won! Let’s leave it at that!” Dirk threw his arms into the air in disgust. 
“Now then, let’s move on to the matter at hand. After all, this will be the final meeting between us members of the Golden Bough Alliance,” Madiath said with a clap. “And besides, it isn’t every day that the princess joins us.” 
“Hah! Given how many times we’ve invited her, this really is a stroke of luck!” 
At present, the Golden Bough Alliance was comprised solely of the three of them—Dirk, Madiath, and Varda. Orphelia was no more than their tool—but at the same time, she was also their master. 
“Perhaps that is for the best. She does have every right to act against us, if she should so choose,” Madiath said, spreading his hands dramatically as he adopted that flippant persona of his. “In exchange for her life and honor and dignity, we’ve afforded her the right to relinquish everything, along with her absolute privileges over us. That was our agreement.” 
Indeed, what he said was true. After her escape, Orphelia Landlufen had come into Dirk’s care, and he had taken responsibility for her affairs when it had become clear that she had no desire to think for herself. He had no way of knowing what she had seen or felt from the other side, or why it had broken her the way it had, but he surmised that she sought a means of finding absolution. And if she could achieve that, it didn’t matter what happened to her. 
“…I came because there’s something I forgot to tell you.” 
“Yeah? And what would that be?” 
At this, Orphelia, looking grief-ridden and desolate, let out a tired sigh. “It’s about your plan… I may have revealed some of it.” 
At that instant, the whole room suddenly stilled. 
“Ah… Hold on a second. What did you just say?” Dirk asked with unusual calm as he scratched the side of his head. 
“I told her…about the plan.” 
“Are you trying to screw with us?!” Dirk jumped to his feet, sending his chair tumbling behind him, drawing menacingly close. 
He was fully aware that he couldn’t touch her, unfortunately; otherwise he might very well have struck her down. 
“…That is clearly treachery,” Varda murmured, the Orga Lux hanging around her neck beginning to release an obsidian glow. 
“Calm down, all of you,” Madiath called, dousing the situation before it could truly ignite. His voice, however, betrayed the fact that he was just as incensed as the rest of them. “When exactly did this happen, Miss Orphelia?” 
“…Around half a year ago, maybe?” 
“Six months ago?!” Dirk’s rage at hearing that she had remained silent for so long left him unable to so much as finish his sentence. 
“And who did you tell?” 
“Julis-Alexia von Riessfeld.” 
“You didn’t mention it to anyone else?” 
“No. Only her.” 
“And what did you tell her?” 
“Only my part in it. I don’t know any more than that. I don’t need to know any more than that.” 
“And lastly… Why did you do it?” 
At hearing this last question, Orphelia paused ever so briefly before responding: “I don’t really know. I did warn her not to tell anyone else, but why would I do that…? Yes, I probably wanted to test the strength of her resolution, and of her fate.” 
“Hmm…” 
Madiath crossed his arms, sinking deep into thought. 
Dirk, meanwhile, brought his emotions back under control. 
If he had known the plan had been leaked, he would have dealt with it a long time ago. Given Julis’s proximity to Claudia in particular, this could mean that Seidoukan knew more than they were letting on… But then, why would Madiath’s informants have failed to uncover the true depth of their knowledge? 
No, it was more likely that Julis really had kept her silence. 
“Is this supposed to be a threat, Orphelia?” he asked coolly. 
“Even if the plan has been exposed, all we can do is move forward,” Varda noted. “There’s no point abandoning it now.” 
“I won’t argue with that.” Dirk nodded in agreement. 
Julis understood how strong Orphelia was, at least to an extent—which meant that she must also have known that she couldn’t possibly stop her. 
“…What will we do about this, Madiath?” Varda asked. 
“A good question… It doesn’t seem like this will pose much of a danger at present. Miss Riessfeld no doubt means to stop Orphelia herself. In which case, the problem will inevitably solve itself.” 
Indeed, there was no way Julis would be able to defeat Orphelia. 
However— 
“We need to be certain. We don’t know what she’ll do when we put the plan into motion.” 
“I agree with Dirk. We would be best eliminating this variable entirely,” added Varda. 
“Hmm…” Madiath paused. “I would prefer not to aggravate the situation at this late hour, but if that is what is required…” 
Orphelia turned her attention away from the bickering members of the Golden Bough Alliance, casting her gaze back out the window. 
And then, the unsleeping nightscape of the city glimmering far below her, she murmured to herself: “Today’s was a good match, Julis… I just have a few more trials waiting for you…”