by Yuu Miyazaki
But a closer look showed that Gerd was the only one on the offensive. Rimcy only fired as a counterattack.
No, that was not completely accurate.
Rimcy was not fighting back. She was blocking gunfire with gunfire.
Normally, if two bullets of light from a Lux were to strike each other, both bullets were annihilated unless one carried substantially more energy than the other, but this never happened deliberately. To cancel out every single shot of a semiautomatic barrage was nothing short of miraculous.
And Rimcy had not moved a step, her face utterly calm.
“What the hell…?!” Even Gerd’s voice, usually so composed, shook with apprehension.
He adjusted his distance from Rimcy, looked for an opening, fired a hail of bullets—But none reached their target.
“Thirty more seconds.” Ardy’s voice recalled Moritz’s attention from his partner’s battle to his own.
Ardy and Rimcy were both exclusively on the defensive, true to their word. What would happen when they switched to offense…?
Moritz focused his prana and let out a ferocious roar, as if to shout away his fear.
All I have to do is beat them before our time is up!
A violent wind whipped around with Moritz at its center, then gathered into a twisting tornado. The same as the Borea Spira, its tip resembled the exposed point of a giant power drill.
The air in the arena shook, and the crowd murmured.
“Borea Mordent!”
This was Moritz’s ace in the hole, his last resort. Not only was it hard to control, requiring a vicious cost in prana, it was slow and easy to evade, so this was not a move he used very often. But in his opinion, its capacity for destruction was unrivaled at Le Wolfe.
“Take this, if you can!” Moritz swung his arm, and the tornado writhed like a serpent toward Ardy.
As with his previous attacks, the barrier appeared to block it. Sparks flew as if from a small explosion, and a shrill noise like metal scraping against metal pierced his ears.
Even then, Ardy did not move.
With another furious roar, Moritz poured every last bit of prana he had into the Borea Mordent.
And still the wall of light did not waver.
The tornado jerked violently like a raging dragon, but slowly the wind weakened and the revolution slowed.
Out of prana, panting and heaving his shoulders with each breath, Moritz sank to sit on the ground.
Ardy stared down at him, then abruptly uncrossed his arms and opened his mouth. “One minute.”
As he spoke, he activated a Lux in his hand, and an enormous hammer as long as his body materialized. The head was as wide as Moritz’s wingspan.
“It is time!”
Ardy walked up to Moritz with slow, heavy footsteps, then effortlessly lifted the hammer.
Crumpled on the ground, Moritz looked up at the weapon. He could do nothing but smile, his face taut with terror.
He glanced sideways to find Gerd already prone.
“You monsters,” he muttered as the hammer fell.
“End of battle! Winners—Ernesta Kühne and Camilla Pareto!”
The automated voice rang over the stunned silence in the arena. Not a single person in the audience could utter a sound.
Moments later, the medical staff from the therapy center rushed in with panicked footsteps and ashen faces to carry away Moritz and Gerd.
And finally, cheers and applause fell on the stage like a storm.
“Now, that—that was something! It took only one minute to decide the match! Well, I should say, the time itself isn’t that extraordinary. Our second match, earlier today, ended even more quickly. But that one minute gave us a brief glimpse into the abilities of contestants Ardy and Rimcy—And I’d say, it was truly intense and enlightening! Who would have thought that this duo—well, “duo” makes them sound like people, but for the sake of convenience—who would have thought that this duo would be so powerful…”
“Well, they completely upstaged us.” Julis turned off the television and sank into the sofa with a long sigh.
Ayato, Kirin, and Saya all wore the same stunned, disbelieving look.
“Well, this is sure to be today’s headline. If not for them, it definitely would have been you guys, Princess.” Even Eishirou was unable to hide his shock. “Septentrio really couldn’t do a thing against them—That was unexpected.”
“It really was…,” Kirin murmured, her voice faint. “Those two should have been formidable in their own right.”
Julis slowly shook her head. “No, beating Moritz would be an easy enough task for your team or ours. That’s not the problem.”
“Riessfeld is right.” Saya nodded. “That light wall. That thing is trouble.”
“I don’t know how it works, but seeing how it completely blocked Moritz’s ability, no ordinary attack is likely to penetrate it.” Julis propped her chin on her fist in consternation.
“It works something like a defensive barrier…I think,” Saya said.
“Defensive barrier? You mean like what surrounds the battle stage? I thought that took huge bulky equipment to generate…”
The force fields were installed to protect the audience from stray projectiles or other accidents, but they required enormous amounts of power and sizable infrastructure.
“Maybe…they miniaturized it for short-term use,” Saya guessed.
“Interesting. Well, I’ll try to find out about that if I can.” Eishirou got up from the sofa.
“Find out…how?” Ayato said.
“They’re about to do the winners’ interview. I’m going to see if I can sneak in.”
“Huh? But I thought that student media organizations didn’t have access…,” Kirin said.
As a general rule, members of outside media could not enter the schools—whereas in the Festa and other official Asterisk events, they were given preferential treatment. A student would probably not even be allowed into the press conference room.
Eishirou laughed slyly. “A true journalist finds a way. Just sit and watch.”
He grinned at Kirin, who looked uneasy, then skipped out of the waiting room.
“Well. If he can get us something to work with, that would be helpful… Let’s see what he brings back. But let’s not expect too much either.” Julis looked no more optimistic than she sounded.
“But we do need data,” Saya muttered grimly.
“Right. Those machines and all of us in here will definitely reach the main tournament. We’ll have to gather as much information as we can before then.”
The competition had data on them, so with only today’s match to go on they were at a definite disadvantage.
“We should try to see one of their matches in person,” Ayato said.
It was impossible to sense the flow of prana and mana over a broadcast or a video. The best thing would be to see it with their own eyes. Even the lowest tier of Festa tickets came at a premium, but contestants were allowed the use of spectator booths assigned to each school.
“If we can,” Julis agreed. “We had some time today, but going forward the matches are scheduled closer together. It won’t be so easy if we have matches on the same day like we did today.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Just moving from one arena to another could be a lot of work. And even if they fought at the same arena, depending on the timing of their respective matches they might not be able to take the time to sit down and watch the machines fight.
“…Hmm? Pardon.” Saya abruptly took out her mobile device.
An air-window opened, but it was blank—meaning the caller had the video transmission off, and the user on the receiving end had theirs turned on. The caller could see them, but not vice versa.
“Ah, Saya, there you are! Did you see that match?!”
“…Yes.”
“Ha-ha, the creator of those things—Ernesta Kühne, was it? She’s young, but her work is quite good! I’d say those Puppets are using at leas
t five manadites each, if I had to guess. And they’re controlled by one central core rather than simply linked together. Mm-hmm, very interesting! It would be impossible for a human being to operate, but theoretically possible for an AI!”
“…I see. But calm down.”
“Hmm? Oh, right! Sorry!”
Ayato thought he recognized that excited rambling. “Um… Uncle Souichi, is that you?”
“Oh, Ayato! How long has it been?! I saw your round, too. Good to see you’re doing well!”
The happy voice undoubtedly belonged to the man who had once lived next door to Ayato—Saya’s father, Souichi Sasamiya.
Huh…?
And yet, that voice wasn’t quite the same as he remembered. There was something off, some tiny thing that stuck in his mind as unnatural.
“Hey, Ayato, is that…?” Julis asked in a whisper.
“Yes, it’s Saya’s dad,” he answered.
Next to Saya, Kirin politely bobbed her head. “Um—Pardon me! Hello! I’m Kirin Toudou, and I’ll be fighting alongside Miss Sasamiya! It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir!”
“Ah, yes! Of the Toudou Style! I’ve heard lots about you. I do appreciate your teaming up with my little girl.”
“Oh—not at all, sir. I’m obliged to her for inviting me!”
“So, Dad? What do you want?” Saya prompted, somewhat embarrassed.
“Oh, right, I almost forgot! I sent you a new gun. Did you get it yet?”
“A new gun…? No, not yet.”
“Hmm. Probably got stuck in customs. Go and check. I’d hoped you’d get it before the Phoenix, but it looks like you won’t have it in time for the first match.”
“Not a problem,” Saya replied, her voice swelling with self-assurance even while her face remained serious. “I can win with my current arsenal.”
Souichi broke into laughter. “Mm, naturally! With my handiwork, you’ll be unbeatable! Well, good luck then! Tell me all about your win later!”
The air-window abruptly closed. That was certainly true to the Souichi in Ayato’s memory.
Did I imagine it…? Ayato wondered. It still felt as if something was off, but there was nothing specific he could place. He decided not to worry about it now.
“Well… Your father sure is talkative. Not at all like you, Sasamiya,” Julis remarked.
“And that’s when he’s holding back. He’ll talk the entire day if you let him.” With that, Saya put away her mobile and stood up. “…Okay. I’m off to check customs.”
“Oh—I’ll go with you!”
Saya and Kirin left the room together.
Now it was just Ayato and Julis. They turned to each other at the same time.
“So, what should we do now?” he asked.
“Well, I’d like to say we should celebrate our first victory. But I don’t think I can, after Allekant showed us that.” With a grim smile, Julis stood and extended her hand to Ayato. “Let’s go back to campus and get in some more practice. We have four days until our second match. Time enough for all the training we can stand.”
“All right.” Mirroring her expression, Ayato took her hand.
“Hey, hey, good work, you two! What a great show!” Beaming, Ernesta greeted Ardy and Rimcy in the hallway that led to the press conference room.
“You are too kind, master.”
“Bwa-ha-ha! Now, that was nothing!”
Rimcy dropped to one knee in deference, while Ardy laughed heartily with his arms crossed.
Glancing sideways at her partner, Rimcy responded with a sharp leg sweep that skimmed the ground.
“Argh!” Ardy’s massive body fell forward, and nearly sprang back up with surprising agility. But before he could do so, Rimcy leaped onto his back and slammed his head into the floor.
Ardy groaned and tried to get up—but was unable to move an inch.
“How dare you act so insolently to our master. Have you no shame?”
“That hurt, Rimcy. You’re using your full strength, aren’t you?”
“Naturally. I have no reason to hold back against such disrespect.” Anger simmered beneath the calm surface of Rimcy’s voice.
Ernesta nodded in satisfaction at the scene.
Machines that could analyze the situation and make their own decisions were not rare. There were even machines possessing capacities that could be considered free will. What Ernesta had sought to create were beings who could feel and express their own emotions.
On that score, these two prototypes were already nearing her ideals.
“Now, now. That will do, Rimcy. Ardy didn’t mean any harm, see? And besides, you should get to the press room. You wouldn’t want to keep Camilla waiting.” Ernesta comforted her.
“As you wish, master.” Rimcy reluctantly released Ardy’s head.
They acted autonomously, and all their readings were stable. Things were going almost too smoothly.
The city guard, probably having caught wind of the recent fracas, had Tenorio under close watch. That faction would have to tread lightly for a while. Nor was there any cause for concern with the tournament conditions.
As Ernesta chuckled, Ardy got to his feet and tilted his head on his thick neck. “I have a question, master.”
“Hmm? What’s that?”
“In terms of our technical specifications, there is no great difference in power output between me and Rimcy, correct?”
“Yep, that’s right. You have different body types because of your equipment and power allocation. So there are some discrepancies in the resulting data.” Ernesta offered an unhurried answer as she strolled.
“Then why is it that I am no match against her?”
“Oh, well, that’s just the way it is. I quote: ‘Woman is Nature’s contrivance for perpetuating its highest achievement. Man is Woman’s contrivance for fulfilling Nature’s behest in the most economical way.’ People in olden times sure had a way with words!” Ernesta’s line was a famous quote from a playwright in a previous century. “In this world, women come first. And fate makes no exceptions, not even for you two. Got it?”
“So, as long as I am in the male form, I cannot win against Rimcy, who is in the female form?”
“That’s about the size of it.”
“…Hrrm,” Ardy grumbled. “Well then, so be it.”
Of course, that had nothing to do with it. Ernesta mentally stuck out her tongue.
The real reason Ardy could not go against Rimcy was simply that Ernesta had created her to be the safety to his trigger. Without her, he would be too dangerous.
“Indeed, it seems that the past champions of the Festa are disproportionately female,” Rimcy added, apparently having run a search of prior results.
Ernesta marveled that the records supported her white lie. She had never been particularly interested in the Festa and had never bothered to check such data.
“Well, the Witch of Solitary Venom from Le Wolfe is female, and she’s been described as the strongest fighter of all time. Oh, and there’s another scary girl from Le Wolfe in this Phoenix…” As Ernesta spoke, a slight frown clouded her expression.
She had anticipated the most significant obstacle in this tournament to be the boy from Seidoukan, but there were other troublesome teams lurking in the shadows. Although popular opinion stated that this tournament was populated with relatively weak contestants, a closer look revealed that there were more than a few teams that should not have been underestimated. After all, there was no such thing as an easy Festa.
She didn’t think for an instant that Ardy and Rimcy might lose, but not for lack of a challenge.
“It’d be great if the tough ones could just beat up on each other…” Ernesta smiled cynically at the ceiling.
CHAPTER 4
THE VAMPIRE PRINCESS
On the second day of the Phoenix, Julis and Ayato strolled around the outskirts of the central district’s commercial area.
“Let’s see… The Procyon Dome is—Oh, is that it?”
Ayato and Julis were on their way to the Procyon Dome to cheer for Saya and Kirin.
“There sure are a lot of people, even for the Festa…,” Ayato said.
The masses filling the streets made it difficult even to walk in a straight line, driving home Asterisk’s status as a tourist destination.
All the cafés and restaurants facing the streets were full. The numerous patrons with open air-windows were probably watching matches. Some places sold same-day tickets; perhaps these people were hopeful spectators unable to secure them.
“During Festa events, the crowds are exponentially denser. So be it.” Julis’s irritation was visible.
Not only were the streets congested, but people also actively stopped Ayato to talk to him, express their support, request a handshake or an autograph, and generally take his time in unexpected ways.
“Those Allekant dolls may have taken away a lot of the attention, but you still made quite an impression in your debut,” Julis told him. “Unlike the fans in the schools, fans from the outside don’t have many opportunities to meet the contestants in person.”
Julis’s own devotees approached her on occasion, but she only delivered well-practiced refusals.
Ayato considered that he might have an easier time if he did the same. He felt bad turning them down, though, and couldn’t quite pull it off.
“Who knows when we’ll get there, at this rate,” he sighed.
It was only a short distance from the subway station to the Procyon Dome, but their progress was at the pace of plodding cattle.
On top of everything, the fiery midsummer sun beat down mercilessly and roasted his skin. Ayato used his sleeve to wipe the sweat pouring from his brow.