Gakusen Toshi Asterisk - Volume 16 - Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

THE HOLY LANCE

The dim corridors of Asterisk’s underground block were illuminated at regular intervals, but the total amount of light was far from sufficient to see properly. In that darkness, three shadows pushed forward, their footfalls echoing around them.

The lead shadow—Ayato—came to a stop once more. Staring straight ahead, he lifted his hand to urge Saya and Kirin to likewise come to a halt.

A short distance ahead, the passageway split into three.

He zoomed in on the air-window displaying the map that Claudia had prepared in advance. Comparing the layout of the passages to their current location, the rightmost one looked to be the most promising.

And yet—

Slowly, he closed his eyes, calmed his nerves, and used the Amagiri Shinmei style’s perception-increasing shiki technique to explore his surroundings.

Then, concentrating his attention on the middle part between two of the passages, he realized that what had seemed at first no more than a blank wall was in reality a stagnant flow of concentrated mana.

Cutting through that mass with the Ser Veresta, he felt the air become suddenly lighter.

Then, checking the map once more, he saw the correct route to be the one on the left.

“Phew…”

Exhaling deeply, he sheathed the Ser Veresta. Saya spoke up in exasperation behind him: “Good grief… Another one?”

More than an hour had passed since the three of them had entered the underground block. If they were where they thought they were, this was close to the elevator leading up to the Festa stage.

The underground block, with its mesh of passageways and drainage channels, was a veritable labyrinth. Yet in spite of that, the area was well maintained, and with the help of a map, they weren’t likely to get lost, even if the journey did take a little time.

Unless, that was, traps had been set up to mislead and misdirect them, as had been the case just now.

These were probably—well, almost certainly—the work of the Varda-Vaos. At first, they had failed to notice these diversions, set at seemingly every crossroads, and had been sent meandering all over the place.

“Let’s go…!” Ayato took off at a run. Saya and Kirin nodded in agreement and followed after him.

For a while, the path proceeded straight ahead. Ayato wasn’t about to let down his guard, but he doubted this was another ruse like the previous ones.

“W-we need to hurry…!” Kirin exclaimed anxiously as she glanced at the time. “The match has already started…!”

It was already noon.

“Don’t worry…! Once we get through here, we should be just about…!”

Before Ayato could finish speaking, the path ahead of him opened up.

“Huh…?”

Grinding to a halt, he took in his surroundings.

They had reached a huge domed space, an area around ten meters high and fifty in diameter that didn’t resemble an underground cavern in the slightest. It wasn’t quite as large as the Festa stage, but it was still immense.

There was no indication of this area on the map. Instead, the evidence of its recent construction was piled up along the walls in mounds of rubble. It could only have been formed by merging three separate levels—and indeed, glancing up, Ayato saw higher passages opening out onto the walls, and water cascading down from drainage channels whose paths had been severed.

“This place…!”

Ayato and Kirin immediately went into high alert.

And then—

“So you came after all,” a bright, knowing voice echoed.

Stepping out from one of those many broken passageways was a young woman dressed in a men’s black military uniform—Agrestia, Saint Gallardworth Academy’s fifth-ranking fighter and the wielder of the Orga Lux the Amalthean Goat, part of the Life Rhodes’s Team Lancelot, whom Ayato had fought in the deciding match of the Phoenix.

“…Percival Gardner,” Saya murmured.

Ayato had heard that Percival was now working for the Golden Bough Alliance from Kirin, who had fought her in the lakeside city. But seeing it for himself…

“There are three elevators leading up to the Festa stage that still function. You won’t be able to reach any of them without passing through here,” Percival said plainly as she continued her approach.

A huge chalice-shaped Orga Lux was floating in the upper-right corner of the hall, growing brighter by the second.

“But it will be quite impossible for you to take even one more step forward.”

“We don’t have time for this. We’ll force our way through,” Ayato said, readying the Ser Veresta while Saya activated her Helnekraum and Kirin readied her Hiinamaru sword in a fighting stance.

Percival was looking their way, but her eyes were black and stagnant, reflecting nothing at all. She seemed completely different than she had during their previous encounters—empty, as though a deep darkness lurked beneath the surface…

“…Ayato.” Saya, no doubt having noticed it too, tugged at his sleeve.

“Yeah, I know.”

This had to be the work of the Varda-Vaos. Its habit of turning people into puppets was nothing short of horrifying.

“There was something strange about her when I fought her last time, but she wasn’t like this…” Kirin, though on guard, seemed pained by the sight before her.

Percival closed her eyes. In a cold, mechanical voice, she intoned: “I am your gun and nothing more. I will take the sins of destroying your enemies unto myself.”

When her eyes finally snapped open, a burst of golden light spilled forth from the Amalthean Goat.

“A halo of mercy and atonement I give unto thee.”

That light would deprive its targets of consciousness with the slightest touch, so Ayato was forced to lash out against it with the Ser Veresta.

“Auuuuurggggghhhhh!”

With a terrible roar from Ayato, the Ser Veresta caught the torrent of light and tore straight through it.

The last time he had tried this, the strain had taken a considerable toll on the weapon. Now, however, he had attained a new level of mastery with the Orga Lux. He wasn’t about to be outmatched, not even by the Holy Grail.

Eventually, the light dissipated, and Ayato swung the Ser Veresta once more to dispel any remaining residue, before turning it next on Percival. “Sorry about this, but it’s three against one. We’re going to push past you!”

Percival was a tough opponent and, according to Kirin, much faster on her feet now than she had been during the Gryps. But even so, she was alone against Ayato, Kirin, and Saya. She couldn’t hope to stop all three of them.

And of course, the Amalthean Goat, while certainly powerful, needed to be charged for a certain length of time between each use. She wouldn’t be able to keep on attacking with it in rapid succession.

Nonetheless, Percival didn’t seem to be in any hurry. “It isn’t three against one,” she said, raising her right hand into the air. “It’s a hundred against three.”

“…!”

At that moment, more autonomous puppets than one could count emerged from the various broken passageways.

“Valiants…!”

Just as Kirin had reported, they did indeed look like Ardy—and while individually, their specifications weren’t quite so impressive, together…

“I wasn’t expecting this many of them…” Saya, standing back-to-back with Ayato, furrowed her brow as she took in the scene.

The three of them were already completely surrounded.

In that case, it was probably safe to assume this whole cavern had been constructed to provide a space to overwhelm them through force of numbers.

He hadn’t been able to count the puppets himself, but if Percival was to be believed, there were a hundred of them in total. Ernesta claimed to have delivered a thousand units overall, so this would constitute a full 10 percent of their numbers.

“No matter how many you are, no one goes any further,” Percival’s voice echoed from beyond the Valiants.

At that moment, the puppets themselves each activated hammer-shaped Luxes, readying themselves for combat.

“Uh-oh…! This could be a problem…!”

Dodging the first oncoming swing of a hammer, Ayato lashed out with the Ser Veresta to cut the Valiant down, then kicked away two more that came rushing toward him in tandem to take advantage of the momentary opening. Their defensive barriers blocked his attack, but he used those shields as footholds to leap higher, twisting in midair as he swung the Ser Veresta to remove both units’ heads.

“Ba-doom…!”

Saya’s voice was more spirited than usual as the bullets of light firing from her Helnekraum exploded on impact with the multi-layered defensive barriers deployed by the Valiants.

“Nggghhh…!”

Though not as robust as Ardy’s defensive shields, when deployed in layers from multiple units, not even Saya’s immense firepower was enough to break through them. Nor did the Valiants themselves leave any openings to counter. There were simply too many. If the three of them were separated somehow and this battle devolved into a melee, they would be at a severe disadvantage.

Using the feedback from his perception-expanding state of shiki to guide him, Ayato noticed the circle of Valiants was thinnest in the vicinity of the passage the three of them had just used to enter the room… It might be possible to break through and then defeat the puppets one by one in the narrow passage.

That, however, could end up taking too much time.

Right now, their highest priority had to be reaching Lamina Mortis as quickly as possible.

“…Ayato, Saya,” Kirin whispered as she dodged attacks from multiple Valiants. “I’ll use the Fudaraku. Leap out of the way when I draw my blade.”

“…”

Ayato and Saya exchanged silent nods.

With that, Kirin took a step forward and returned the Hiinamaru to its scabbard, drawing in its place a second blade from her right hip—the katana-shaped Orga Lux known as Fudaraku.

The Fudaraku’s uniqueness lay in its ability to store energy—the more energy it accumulated, the sharper and more powerful the weapon became.

As Kirin sheathed her blade, five Valiants saw their opportunity and attempted to close in on her, hammers raised.

“…Here I come.”

Ayato and Saya leaped back as those words escaped Kirin’s lips—and at that moment, a silver circle of light flashed around her in all directions.

As Kirin began to unsheathe the Fudaraku, its silver glow overflowed. The brilliant burst of light emanated out from her, freezing the Valiants as though time itself had ground to a halt.

“That’s…”

As Ayato and Saya landed back on the ground, the bodies of the surrounding Valiants gradually collapsed—then exploded.

That single burst of light had split them clean in two.

All one hundred of them.

“Wow…,” Saya murmured, incredulous as the explosions rang out around them.

The Fudaraku’s blade was composed of metal, not light, and while it gave off an incredible reflective sheen, it was wholly shaped like a Japanese katana. Nonetheless, its terrifying latent power was no doubt capable of overwhelming even the Ser Veresta. With the energy Kirin had stored inside it over all this time, there could be no withstanding its full force.

“I see… So that’s the Fudaraku. Phenomenal.” A frigid voice came across the flames left from the explosions. “You’re dangerous. D’s assessment was correct. I’ll have to eliminate you here, no matter what it takes.”

“…You sound pretty relaxed, given the situation,” Saya interjected, stepping forward and aiming the Helnekraum at her target.

“Relaxed…? I don’t think so. I’m always doing my best. How else could I hope to atone…? Ah, yes, I see. I suppose I was being deceptive before. I wasn’t truly facing my sins. Let me atone for that, too, here and now.” Percival’s vacant eyes widened as she lifted her right hand high into the air.

Then, responding to her, the Amalthean Goat floating in the upper-right part of the hall began to change form. The Orga Lux, shaped like a chalice tilted on its side, started to stretch long and thin, encircling the thorns decorating its bottom half.

“It can’t be…!”

Saya was the first to react—squeezing the trigger of the Helnekraum and firing at the all-but-defenseless Percival.

Her aim was perfect. With a tremendous roar, a fresh explosion erupted, the blast clearing away the wreckage of the fallen Valiants still burning throughout the hall.

And yet—

Percival was no longer there, reappearing instead in one of the broken passageways two levels above.

In her hands, she was grasping a spear, distorted like a thorn stretched beyond recognition.

When did she…? How did she manage to dodge Saya’s attack just now…?

“Ngh… So it is the Holy Lance,” Saya murmured, her disappointment clear as she glanced up at Percival.

“The Holy Lance?” Kirin repeated, coming up next to her.

“There were rumors, that the Holy Grail—the Amalthean Goat—has a secret second form,” Saya continued without letting Percival out of her sights. “I thought they were bogus. But there it is. The Holy Lance. The IEFs have to publish their data on their urm-manadite stocks, so just about anyone can get a rough idea of their capabilities. One researcher looking over the data came up with a hypothesis—that it might be possible to reverse the Amalthean Goat’s abilities if its user’s compatibility rate passed a certain level. But it was just a rumor. The Holy Lance has never actually been used in battle, and I didn’t take it seriously, either…”

They had deployed extensive countermeasures against the Amalthean Goat during the Gryps, but neither Claudia nor Saya had mentioned anything like this back then. In other words, those rumors must not have seemed very credible at the time.

“If it reverses its abilities, does that mean its attacks will change…?”

The Amalthean Goat’s ability was known as soul removal. It had no physical attack power, but to make up for that, it rendered any who touched its light instantly unconscious. So the reverse of that would have to be—

“Pierce, O Light of Judgment!”

“…!”

Percival lashed out with the Holy Lance, shooting a laser-like beam of light right at Ayato and the others.

The three of them quickly dodged, but the light carved straight into the ground, tearing through the floor.

“Right. So that’s its technique reversed.”

Its radiance now seemed to be composed of heightened physical-attack power.

That, however, was something that they could deal with. In fact, it was almost a relief that its most dangerous elements had been reduced to just a weapon.

Until the very next moment, at least.

“Ayato, watch out!”

“What…?!”

Percival rushed forward all at once, aiming straight for Ayato as he dodged her previous attack. Given her extraordinary speed, she almost skewered him straight through the abdomen.

It was a lightning-fast thrust—followed by another, and another, all in rapid succession.

“Too fast…!”

But the speed wasn’t all—each blow was also unusually heavy, and though he caught them all with the Ser Veresta, the repeated shocks were unmistakably wearing down his defensive posture.

It wasn’t raw strength, either—yes, the Holy Lance did have significant power output, but something about it was simply wrong.

How is it managing to push the Ser Veresta to the brink…?!

“Burst, O Light of Judgment!”

“Ugh…!”

He had thought he avoided the blow but was knocked to the ground as the golden light momentarily swelled and threw him back.

It was strong.

And it posed a serious threat.

It wasn’t quite at the level of Julis’s Queen of the Night, but there was no doubt that it was in the same class as Gigoku’s shikigami syncretism.

Indeed, this Percival was completely different to the one whom he had fought during the Gryps.

“Scour, O Light of Judgment!”

With those words, the Holy Lance unleashed a myriad of fine, bullet-like projectiles.

“Amagiri Shinmei Sword Style—Three-Legged Crow!”

Ayato deflected that barrage with the Ser Veresta, but Percival proceeded to hold the Holy Lance high in the air as it continued to unleash its light.

Uh-oh…! I won’t be able to avoid that one…!

“Ayato!” Saya’s bitter cry rang out as Percival’s next strike bore down on his throat—

“Hah!”

In the nick of time, Kirin intervened with her Fudaraku, parrying the Holy Lance.

“Ayato! Saya! Please, you need to go…!” she cried, her voice coming with difficulty as she engaged Percival in fierce battle.

“We can’t leave you! It will take all three of us to beat her…!” Saya protested.

“But our goal isn’t to beat her!” Kirin called back. “You two have a more important foe! Leave this to me!”

“…”

Ayato was about to object, but his words caught in his throat at the sight of her determination.

She was right, of course.

They had come here to defeat Lamina Mortis, to put an end to his rampage.

Naturally, they would have a better chance of beating Percival if the three of them fought together. However, they would be unlikely to emerge unscathed, and the longer they took, the closer this whole operation would come to failure. After all, even with the three of them, it would be difficult to defeat her as she was now in any reasonable amount of time.

“I’ll be fine…! Besides, I won before, didn’t I?” Kirin said, glancing at Ayato with a mischievous smile.

She was referring to their semifinal match during the Gryps when she had fought against Xiaohui Wu.

Ayato and Kirin, while engaging him together, had been unable to deal any serious blows. Kirin, however, underwent an explosive burst of growth and finally snatched victory.

“…All right.”

Given the situation, he had no choice now but to trust her, as he had back then.

“Let’s go, Saya!”

“B-but… Nnnnnngh…! Fine! You can do it, Kirin!” Saya still seemed unconvinced, her jaw clenched in worry. But in the end, she followed after Ayato.

“I can’t let you pass.” With those words, Percival repelled Kirin and directed the Holy Lance against Ayato and Saya.

Its golden light grew brighter still, but just before she could release it, a sideways strike threw her hard against the wall.

“…!”

Kirin, armed with the Fudaraku, called out after her: “Didn’t you hear me? I’m your opponent.”

A year and a half earlier, during a meeting on an airship…

“So you want to bring her into the fold…? Hmm. It’s not like you to make that kind of suggestion.”

Madiath rubbed his chin in thought as he took in the image of Percival’s face projected by the air-window.

The only time the members of the Golden Bough Alliance met in person like this was when there was something of considerable importance to discuss.

“I wouldn’t have expected to hear this from you, seeing how you were opposed to our efforts to recruit Xinglou Fan,” Varda remarked, watching Madiath with her head tilted to one side.

She wasn’t being ironic—she was no doubt simply pointing out a fact. Nonetheless, the observation roused Dirk’s ire.

“Not as an ally. Just a pawn,” he replied, making no effort to conceal his frustration as he stared back at Varda and scratched his cheek. “But a talented pawn, the kind you don’t often come across. Certainly worth the effort it would take to bring her in.”

“The effort, yes…,” Madiath repeated. He clearly had something more to say.

“…What’s the problem?” Dirk asked with a murderous stare.

“Oh, I was just thinking how you seem willing to go to considerable lengths for this outstanding resource of yours.” Madiath gave an exaggerated shrug. “Ranked number five at Gallardworth, the wielder of the Holy Grail. A highly accurate shooter, eyes capable of seeing through deception, a perfect rearguard fighter… Yes, she does indeed look excellent. She’s certainly earned the alias Agrestia. But…is it enough to embrace her as one of us?”

“I agree,” Varda added. “There is no mistaking Percival Gardner’s abilities, but if we were concerned with abilities alone, there would be countless other candidates. Even if we needed more pawns, there is no clear reason why we should choose her.”

As Dirk had expected, the two were unified in their opposition.

That, however, couldn’t be helped. At Gallardworth, Percival had always dedicated herself to serving as part of a team. You could watch a recording of any of her matches, and it would be enough to demonstrate her worthiness as a Page One. However…

“Hmph. Neither of you have a shred of discernment.” Dirk scoffed, sending additional data to Madiath and Varda’s terminals.

“And this is…?”

“Data from when I had her on my team at the Institute.”

The two fell silent for a moment as they took in the information.

Varda spoke up first: “Oh? So she’s an irregular designer child? This is certainly intriguing, but is it enough to stand out?”

At this, Dirk let out an exaggerated sigh. “You’re a machine, an Orga Lux through and through. You can’t see the intrinsic worth of human beings. If you don’t get it, just shut up for a minute, would you?”

Madiath, meanwhile, continued to stare at the air-window for a moment longer. Finally, his lips twisted in a grin, he looked up. “Ah… I see what you mean.”

As Dirk had expected, he had noticed it.

“As far as I can see, this data doesn’t paint a very different image from her record at Gallardworth. She’s an excellent backup fighter, with a particularly outstanding shooting ability. But it is strange…”

“…? What is?” Varda asked, even now still stumbling in the dark.

“Oh, it’s all very simple,” Madiath explained gently, like a teacher lecturing a child. “According to what’s written here, the Institute was trying to genetically engineer designer babies with the same specifications as Genestella. She’s the result born from that process—a genetically engineered Genestella.”

“I can see that. It explains why her physical capabilities are above those of other designer children…,” Varda remarked, before quickly shifting her attention to Dirk.

“Heh. So you finally caught on?”

“Genetic engineering is a technology from a bygone age, and she’s probably the only Genestella to have been produced by it,” Madiath explained. “So why did she devote herself to serving as a rearguard supporting fighter?”

Indeed.

Percival Gardner’s true domain was close-quarters combat.

The fact that she had survived a direct confrontation against Rodolfo Zoppo was proof enough of that.

“Wait. Are you saying Percival Gardner, whether as part of Dirk’s team or at Gallardworth, has never demonstrated her true potential?” Varda asked.

“Nah, that ain’t quite right.” Dirk shook his head. “Watching her teammates get annihilated came as a pretty big blow to her. Since then, she’s held back from close combat. No matter how I threatened or coddled her, she wouldn’t give me the time of day.”

That had been a major miscalculation on his part, as he had been the one who recruited her. She was certainly good enough in the rearguard, but he couldn’t see it as anything short of a shame to put her true talents to waste.

Now, however…

“Maybe you can do something about that, Varda?”

“…So that is what you meant by effort. I’d rather you didn’t place the burden on me for such things, but…” Varda seemed taken aback, but didn’t deny it could be done.

“So do you have a plan in mind to draw her in?” Madiath asked.

“Does that mean you are in favor of this idea?” Varda rejoindered.

“Oh yes. We’re most definitely short on manpower, and if this works out, it would be an interesting hidden play to keep on hand should anything go wrong.”

“Okay. I’ll get her to come here, then. Won’t be a problem,” Dirk said.

Percival wanted to destroy the Institute, but even if she did manage to win at the Festa, it would hardly grant her wish. Strictly speaking, the organization could be crushed, but a successor would simply be created in short order to take its place.

All he had to do was exploit that fact, and he would easily win her over. At the very least, it would be enough to get her to hear him out. Then, with Varda there to help, everything would take off without a hitch.

“I don’t wish to increase my burden, but I will accept that she seems a valuable resource. This will be a conditional agreement.”

Varda didn’t seem particularly enthusiastic, but she had given in.

“What conditions?”

“Percival Gardner’s fighting ability is presently unclear. Until it is clarified, I cannot give my full support.”

Well, that was fair enough.

“You’re welcome to test her yourself if you want. But if I had to guess…” Dirk paused for a second, then flashed his counterpart his usual easygoing grin. “She might even be stronger than you are now.”

“Ugh…!”

Somehow, Kirin managed to bring the Fudaraku around in time to repel Percival’s thrust, careening at an almost godlike speed.

Yet by the time she managed to bring her blade back around to counter, Percival had already backed away.

Not only that, the tip of the Holy Lance was glowing once more, and a golden light burst from the ground at her feet like an erupting geyser.

“Ascend, O Light of Judgment!”

Kirin raced to avoid the attack, but several pillars of light erupted from the earth in pursuit, forcing her to leap up into one of the broken passages looming from the second floor of the hall.

“Haah… Haah…!”

She had known it would be the case, but Percival was indeed strong—completely different to how she had been during their fight in the lakeside city.

To begin with, her foe’s speed was unrecognizable—an order of magnitude faster. Not even Xiaohui Wu, whom Kirin had fought during the Gryps, had improved to this extent. If not for her eyes, capable of channeling her prana to gauge her opponent’s next moves, she would have fallen victim to the Holy Lance in no time at all. It wasn’t just a matter of offensive and defensive techniques—it was like her foe now inhabited a completely different plane of existence.

And then there was the golden light being emitted by the Holy Lance. Unlike in its Holy Grail form, the light didn’t rob its target of consciousness in a single blow, but rather manifested as a wide range of attack forms, each of them potent and powerful. Kirin suspected if she had Ayato’s strength she might have been able to withstand them, but as she was, even a single blow would probably be enough to spell her demise.

But that doesn’t mean I can just fall back…!

Reaffirming her spirit and resolve, she sped past the burning remains of the Valiants spread left and right throughout the hall and closed in on Percival.

“Kyargh!”

Percival parried her slash with the Holy Lance, meeting her weapon not with the side of her own blade, but with its tip. Kirin followed through, attacking from above, sweeping up from below, thrusting from the front—but her foe stopped each attempt the same way. During their last encounter, Percival had exchanged blows with Kirin’s blade using her gun-type Luxes, but this time, she was holding Kirin back with astonishingly precise movements.

For her part, Percival’s eyes could see through pretense and falsehood, which rendered Kirin’s Toudou-style Hidden Technique, her Conjoined Cranes, ineffective. Since feints were useless, her only choice was to go all out from the front.

“Rage, O Light of Judgment!”

The golden light swirled like a gust of wind, quickly buffeting Kirin as she shielded herself with the Fudaraku.

Her attack canceled and momentum disrupted, Kirin was left at a distinct disadvantage.

“Hah!” She tried to break through the interval by releasing her sword energy, but the strike was easily evaded.

Well, she had suspected as much. Through those slashes, she might have been able to release projectiles of a sort, but in the end, they were simply flying tools. Such a technique would hardly prove effective against Percival in her current state—unless, of course, it was employed with particular finesse.

“Pursue, O Light of Judgment!”

At that moment, several bands of light shot out from the Holy Lance, launching straight for Kirin.

She ran to avoid them, but the strips of light changed trajectory midflight in chase.

Homing attacks…?!

They were probably similar to Saya’s homing blaster, the Waldenholt Mark II.

Kirin’s sole option was to hold her ground and lash out with the Fudaraku, but of course Percival immediately capitalized on that opening to close in with a series of perfectly targeted thrusts straight for her throat, her heart, her stomach, only backing off when Kirin sidestepped to launch her own counterattack.

“…!”

At its most basic, Percival’s strategy relied on using the Holy Lance to establish a favorable distance between the two adversaries, and once an opportunity presented itself, to dash forward and launch into a close-quarters melee attack. But she never overplayed her hand, and she never got too close. It was a solid tactic, one that offered no means to turn the tables on her.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t have a chance…!

Overall, Percival was the far superior opponent, but that didn’t mean she had Kirin beat on every front.

First, there was technical ability. Percival was clearly competent at employing Saint Gallardworth Academy’s various spear techniques, but she wasn’t yet an expert. Of course, each blow was precisely targeted and packed considerable power, and she fought with formidable speed, but it seemed also that she hadn’t quite perfected her technique through long training; she fought only at the level of one who understood the underlying theory. The old Kirin would have been hard-pressed to respond, but with her current knowledge, she could hold her opponent off without fear.

Her other advantage was the Fudaraku. It was said that with one month’s worth of stored sword energy, it was capable of competing head-to-head with even one of the Four Colored Runeswords. With four months’ worth of reserve, no Orga Lux should be able to defeat it.

No doubt Percival herself was aware of these two points, as she hadn’t yet attempted to finish Kirin off in a sustained close-quarters attack.

Still…

“Rend, O Light of Judgment!”

With a sweep of the Holy Lance, Percival unleashed a burst of light faster than anything else thus far.

Kirin raced to dodge it with a forward roll, only for the strike to gouge a gaping gash in the wall above her.

And with each additional swing of the Holy Lance, more and more such attacks came speeding toward her.

“Haah, haah…!”

If she allowed herself to get distracted even for a moment, she would be sliced clean in two, and so she continued to evade, her breath ragged. Percival’s breathing, however, wasn’t in the least disturbed.

I won’t be able to take my chance if this keeps up…! At best, I might have one or two opportunities…!

Desperate, she continued to dodge the oncoming bands of light, occasionally parrying them with the Fudaraku, simply enduring as she waited for her chance to hit back.

And then—

Percival, perhaps having sensed that Kirin’s movements were slowing, pressed forward once again.

Thus far, she had demonstrated a habit of using more thrust attacks than slashes. That being the case, she would likely do the same again this time.

Even with her clairvoyance, Kirin wouldn’t have been able to move in time after reading her foe’s next moves. If she missed her chance, death awaited her.

But against this opponent, she wouldn’t stand a chance of winning if she wasn’t prepared to take that risk.

Percival homed another thrust in on a single point. Instead of falling back, Kirin dared to step forward, letting lose an upward slash of the Fudaraku as she shifted her body.

“…!”

Almost at the exact same moment, the Holy Lance grazed her flank—but it was only a shallow wound.

Kirin, however, didn’t waste a moment reacting. Percival instantly rotated her body to avoid the oncoming strike. The Fudaraku tore through her military uniform, sending a long piece of cloth flapping to the ground and exposing Percival’s toned body as a faint red line ran across her abdomen.

How did she manage to avoid that…?

Falling back this time, Kirin clicked her tongue, amazed by Percival’s physical ability.

“…”

Her foe, on the other hand, glanced down at her stomach with dark eyes, then slowly turned her gaze back to Kirin. She didn’t seem perturbed in the slightest.

“I see. It seems I still underestimated you. In that case…you leave me…n-no choice…”

“…?”

All of a sudden, Percival’s words stuttered—yet her facial expression remained as stolid as ever.

Kirin, however, couldn’t afford to dwell on that mystery.

“S-slaughter, O Light of Judgment!”

Percival braced herself with the Holy Lance held out before her as an unusual amount of light began to spill from the weapon’s tip.

This was bad.

Very bad.

Suppressing the instinctive wave of fear that washed over her, Kirin leaped high into the air.

“Holy Lance—fire!”

From the weapon’s tip, a golden torrent similar to the Holy Grail’s energy wave began to spill out.

Kirin managed to evade the deluge just before it could reach her by kicking off from the ceiling, but she was thrown across the hall by the aftershock and knocked to her back as she hit the ground.

“Gah…!”

But the sight of what came next sent the pain of her landing far into the periphery of her senses.

Flying through the air, the flood of light that had targeted her tore through every level of the underground block—even ripping through the clouds that covered the sky above.

That destructive power was nothing short of incredible.

And an even more unbelievable sight yet awaited her:

“Rise, O Light of Judgment!”

“What…?!”

She’s using it a second time…?!

But it should have been too soon for that.

Percival readied the Holy Lance in the same position as before, its golden glow increasing once again.

Uh-oh…! I won’t be able to dodge it from this position…!

The next moment, the ensuing torrent of light swallowed Kirin whole.

“…The Holy Grail’s second form?” Laetitia Blanchard asked, raising her eyebrows as she sipped her cup of tea. “You said you had something to discuss, but why this all of a sudden?”

Laetitia was the former vice president of the student council at Saint Gallardworth Academy, but although she was presently sitting in the familiar student council room, the council was under new leadership, and all official duties ought to have been their responsibility, not hers.

The new president, Elliot Forster, wore a strained expression from his seat behind his desk.

“Of course, I’ve read the data,” he answered. “But there are some things I can’t quite wrap my head around looking at that alone…”

“Did you find something in connection to Percival, perhaps?”

Percival Gardner was a close friend and the current user of the Holy Grail, whose whereabouts were presently unknown. Given the situation, any inquiry about the Holy Grail would have to be in relation to her.

Yet as Laetitia watched him from her seat on the guest sofa, Elliot quietly shook his head. “No, it isn’t like that. But you were close to Gardner, weren’t you? I was hoping you might be able to offer us a clue as to what’s going on.”

“…”

She couldn’t tell whether his intentions were honest or deceitful. It certainly seemed that Elliot had taken a few tricks of the trade to heart.

When he had first taken over as student council president, he had been easily distracted, to the extent that Laetitia had even wondered whether he was up to the job. Now, however, he seemed to have grown more worthy of the chair.

“All right. Yes, I’ve been looking out for her ever since she entered the school, and I probably do know her better that anyone else.”

Her earliest memory of Percival was her worn-out face the first time they met. At a glance, Laetitia could tell that her heart was badly frayed, her emotions repressed—that she had, in short, been living a life of regret.

It was little wonder. According to the data, she had worked under Dirk Eberwein, the Institute’s so-called Tyrant. She seemed to blame herself for having survived when her fellow designer children hadn’t.

And that was precisely why Gallardworth had purchased her as a candidate to wield the Holy Grail.

“Did Gardner ever unlock the Holy Grail’s second form?”

“Good heavens, no.” Laetitia brushed that insane question aside. “You’ve read the data on the Holy Grail—on the Amalthean Goat—haven’t you? Its second form, the Holy Lance, is only theoretical.”

“…Yes, that’s true.”

The Holy Grail was a powerful Orga Lux, but it was also an incredibly difficult one to wield. Only those who harbored a particularly keen sense of guilt could establish a high compatibility rating with it, and its cost was that the bearer must continue to suffer the burden of atonement. Only those strong enough to do so could wield its soul-robbing light.

“In theory, if one’s compatibility rating exceeds ninety-eight percent, it should be possible to activate the Holy Lance. But no one could possibly endure that much guilt.”

“Endure, you say?”

“Guilt involves inflicting self-punishment. And what do people do when their guilt becomes too much to bear? They choose suicide.”

“…!”

Atonement, when you got down to it, was a matter of personal subjectivity. Social guilt could be settled through punishment, and objectively, if a victim offered their forgiveness, the matter would be settled, whether or not the person responsible forgave themselves. Some were capable of forgetting their sins without atoning, and there were those who were simply unaware of their sins to begin with. And then there were those who continued to blame themselves even when others decided to let go.

Only the latter such group could wield the Holy Grail, and that was precisely why the Holy Lance remained forever out of reach. Before their guilt grew to the point that they could achieve a 98 percent compatibility rating with the Orga Lux, they would seek to atone through their own death.

“In its Holy Lance form, the Amalthean Goat seems to have extraordinary power output, even compared to other first-rate Orga Luxes. But that means that the price exacted by the Holy Lance is that much heavier,” Laetitia explained.

“The Holy Lance’s abilities, its Light of Judgment… They’re an inversion of the Holy Grail’s abilities, resulting in extremely potent destructive power, no?” Elliot asked.

“Yes. The Holy Grail manifests for those who seek atonement, while the Holy Lance is for those who want judgment… And the more someone uses the Holy Lance, the more guilt they take on. According to some estimates, using the power of the Holy Lance even once will increase the user’s feelings of guilt so much that they would be willing to bite off their own tongue to seek death on the spot.”

In other words, the price of using the Holy Lance was nothing short of death itself.

It was no wonder it was so powerful, seeing as it came at such a high price.

But, of course, that was ignoring the fact that there would never be a suitable user in the first place.

Elliot fell silent, sinking deep into thought.

“What’s wrong?” Laetitia asked.

When finally he looked up, his expression was strained. “In that case…what if it was possible for an external force to suppress those suicidal thoughts?”

“Like the reconditioning programs used by the foundations? Impossible.” Laetitia found the very idea vaguely amusing. “The mind can’t just be remodeled like that. And even if it could be, the only thing it would achieve would be to diminish the sense of guilt. There would be no point.”

Reducing one’s guilt would indeed keep a subject’s suicidal thoughts at bay, but then they wouldn’t be able to wield the Holy Lance.

Suppressing only someone’s suicidal thoughts while maintaining their feelings of guilt would be impossible even for a Genestella with a mental interference or brainwashing ability.

The only exception might be to use an Orga Lux with a particularly high level of power output.

It would, however, be absolute hell for the subject.

After all, they would be constantly tormented, weighed down by immeasurable guilt yet unable to atone for it through death.

“Yes, I see… My apologies, I suppose that was a strange question,” Elliot said as he rose to his feet. “Thank you. You’ve been very helpful. We’ll find Gardner, I assure you.”

“…I was against letting her have the Holy Grail, you know?” Laetitia murmured despite herself.

Even without reaching its second Holy Lance form, the Holy Grail still put its user through considerable hardship. Percival might have accepted it willingly, but it should never have been placed in the hands of someone as frayed as she was.

“Well, I couldn’t go against the wishes of our superiors, and it wasn’t up to me.”

Nevertheless, Percival had worked hard as a member of Gallardworth’s student council, and during her days as a member of Team Lancelot, she had grown brighter, more human even, than when she had first been brought to the school. At least that was how she had seemed to Laetitia.

Taking a sip of her cold tea, she let out a deep sigh. “I wonder where she is now…?”

“G-gah…!”

When Kirin shook her head and opened her eyes, she found herself surrounded by collapsed rubble.

She must have lost consciousness, if only for a brief moment.

Right…I tried to block the light with the Fudaraku…

Judging that she would be unable to avoid the onslaught, she had tried cutting through it with the Fudaraku, similar to what Ayato had done earlier. She had managed to avoid a direct hit, but the force of its power had overwhelmed her, the impact throwing her through the wall. Then—

“…!”

She leaped to her feet out of the rubble, just as Percival came tearing toward her through the darkness, a sharp thrust piercing the spot where she had been lying just moments ago.

“So…you’re still…alive…?”

As Percival turned her gaze toward Kirin, her head swiveling like a broken doll, her eyes seemed even more vacant than before.

Kirin’s first move was to leap from the hole the Holy Lance’s attack had gouged through the earth and return to the hall.

At the same time, she checked herself over for damage. A few of her ribs seemed to be broken, but her limbs were unharmed. She was covered in cuts and bruises, but thankfully, none of them seemed particularly deep.

She could keep on fighting.

“…Okay!”

She had yet to come up with a strategy for dealing with that torrent of light, but she hadn’t lost yet, and even if she couldn’t hope to win, she wasn’t about to give up anytime soon.

With that thought, she held the Fudaraku ready in front of her and waited for Percival to emerge from the hole in the ground.

“Y-you’re stubborn…aren’t you…?” Her foe fixed her in those dull, jet-black eyes as she drew the Holy Lance yet again.

Another flood of light began to build up around it.

Naturally. If she could activate that technique without needing to recharge, there was no reason to hold back.

“Rise…O Light…of Judgment…”

The best thing here would be to dodge it… But at this rate, I’ll be dodging forever… In that case…!

Kirin lowered herself to the ground, waiting for the blow to come.

Last time, she had been caught unawares due to making a split-second decision.

This time, she would accept the strike head-on.

She would adopt an altogether different attitude.

“Holy Lance—fire…!”

Golden light overflowed from the Orga Lux, rushing toward her in a mighty torrent.

“Hyaaaaarrrrrggggghhhhh!”

Letting out a spirited cry, Kirin brought the Fudaraku crashing down, its tip letting off a silver glow as it suppressed the oncoming barrage of light. The blade trembled, her arms supporting it buckled under the pressure, her legs were close to crumbling beneath her.

Power competing against power.

A brilliant flash erupted as gold and silver intercepted each other, neither fighter falling back, when—

“Kyargh!”

The wave of golden light dissipated as the Fudaraku swept downward.

I did it…!

Kirin and the Fudaraku had won in terms of raw power, and yet—

“I’ll…take that…”

“Uh-oh!”

By the time the light had faded, Percival was already directly in front of her.

Her basic strategy remained the same—to create a favorable situation using the Holy Lance, then to finish her off in close combat once an opportunity presented itself… Kirin should have realized that.

She wouldn’t be able to parry with the Fudaraku in time.

She quickly twisted her body in an attempt to evade, but Percival, as though having foreseen her movements, unleashed not a stabbing thrust, but a sideways slash.

The strike cut from her right shoulder all the way to her left flank, sending blood spurting out. Kirin staggered, mustering all her strength to leap backward and escape Percival’s pursuit.

“U-ugh…!”

That blow would have been fatal to any regular person, and even a Genestella would quickly succumb to blood loss. She probably had less than five minutes left of adequate mobility.

Percival, staring at her without expression, readied the Holy Lance—and pulled her right hand behind her back once more.

She never falters…

Kirin doubted she would be able to withstand that deluge of light in her current state.

But just as she thought it was all over, she suddenly realized something.

“S-swell…O Light…o-of Judgment…”

Though Percival’s face remained as stolid as ever, a solitary tear spilled from the depths of her cold, black eyes.

“…!”

At that moment, Kirin felt unprecedented rage explode inside of her.

Why hadn’t she noticed it sooner?

Percival had been suffering all this time.

Beneath that cold, expressionless exterior, for what must have felt like an eternity.

Not once had she seemed to be fighting through her own volition.

She should have noticed, Kirin berated herself. Ayato would have seen it immediately.

She was furious now, not only at those who had made Percival this way, but at herself for having overlooked it.

She clenched her jaw, ashamed of her own incompetence.

And then—she made up her mind.

“Holy Lance…fire!”

A fresh torrent of light burst forth.

But Kirin had already leaped into the air. Not upward, but to the side—to the wall.

The deluge chased after her as she ran in an arc across the hall, leaping from wall to ceiling, and from there, directly behind Percival’s back.

“Here I come!”

Bringing the Fudaraku down with all her strength, she stumbled forward to overpower her foe, who was already preparing to parry with the Holy Lance.

Kirin pressed forward, slashing from top to bottom, but Percival was no average opponent—she responded at once and parried the blade.

She was a formidable foe, a fighter worthy of the deepest respect.

Which was precisely why Kirin couldn’t forgive those who had done this to her.

She had fought against so many powerful enemies over the past few years. Ayato, Ardy, Xiaohui—even despicable individuals like Gustave Malraux and the sorcerer who had kidnapped Flora.

But this was the first time she had ever found herself so incensed, so full of rage.

This was an affront to basic human dignity.

“Hyaaaaarrrrrggggghhhhh!”

Kirin’s attacks continued to build up speed.

Yet even then, Percival was still able to take the brunt of her onslaught.

So what next?

Clutching the Fudaraku in the one hand, Kirin unsheathed the Hiinamaru with the other.

The Hiinamaru in her left hand, the Fudaraku in her right.

The Toudou style of swordsmanship didn’t specialize in dual-wielding techniques. This was something she had developed herself.

Back when she had fought against Gustave’s Spartoi, she had merely been making up for the difference in numbers—this time was different.

The Hiinamaru let out a flash of light, while the Fudaraku danced through the air.

Little by little, she began to push Percival back.

She hadn’t been intentionally holding back before this. The reason she hadn’t attempted to use both swords was that she didn’t know whether the Hiinamaru would be able to withstand a blow from the Holy Lance. It may have been the ancient swordsmith Kunikane Youkei’s greatest work, but it was still ultimately just a regular Japanese sword. If it collided directly with an Orga Lux of that power, it wouldn’t be at all surprising if it shattered then and there. Should that happen, Kirin would find herself speared by the Holy Lance before she could so much as blink.

But there was no point worrying about that now.

If she didn’t give this fight her absolute best, she wouldn’t stand a chance of beating Percival.

As her repertoire of abilities and skills collided violently with the Holy Lance, Kirin’s strength ebbed, and she felt the impacts of the blows wash over her.

The words of Ayato’s father Masatsugu sounded in the back of her head: “The key lies in precision, in how thoroughly you can put yourself into one swing of the sword.”

“R-right…!”

Taking her flurry of techniques to the next level, the flash of Kirin’s swords increased in intensity yet again.

From the Yatsuhashi to the Kanae, from the Kakitsubata to the Sekirei—

Percival was on the defensive now, unable to launch into her own counterattack.

At first glance, Kirin’s combination of moves might have resembled her Conjoined Cranes technique—but this was something different.

Given Percival’s perceptive eyes, the Conjoined Cranes would be ineffective here.

After all, the technique was based on analyzing the minutia of one’s opponent’s breathing, timing, and gaze to block their attacks and push them into a corner.

As such, while she was linking various disparate sword forms as she did in the Conjoined Cranes, this wasn’t that technique per se. It wasn’t even her New Conjoined Cranes.

If she had to give it a name, she would probably go with Senbazuru, in honor of her beloved old sword.

Now her every strike was delivered with her full body as she poured her strength into each swing and thrust. The Conjoined Cranes was a series of endless and unceasing attacks akin to the folding of an origami crane—and this was even faster.

Under regular circumstances, she wouldn’t be able to continue pouring her energy into a combination like this.

Right now, however, she had been pushed far past her limit.

“Ah, haah… Aaaaahhhhh…!” Percival howled beneath her expressionless exterior.

With the Hiinamaru, Kirin kept the Holy Lance in check, while she used the Fudaraku to repel it.

The Holy Lance—the Amalthean Goat—spun through the air, its blade swirling and dancing as the Fudaraku and the Hiinamaru crossed blades and slashed into Percival’s chest, slicing open a cross shape.

Just as the Amalthean Goat pierced the ground, Percival fell to the floor in a heap.

The wound had nearly been fatal. Kirin’s foe may have sought death, but still it eluded her.

Percival’s wounds were probably around the same depth as Kirin’s own, perhaps a little deeper. She wouldn’t be able to move anymore.

Though, of course, the same was true for Kirin.

“Phew…”

Exhaling weakly, she felt her knees quiver.

Her senses were already fading.

“I’m sorry, everyone… The rest…is up to you…”

With those faint words, she collapsed by Percival’s side, her consciousness sinking into darkness.