by Yuu Miyazaki
“A request?”
Claudia’s eyes looked at Ayato straight on. “It’s not for a while yet, but I would like you to fight as a member of my team in the Gryps tournament next year.”
“The Gryps…?” He was more than a little surprised at the unexpected appeal, but he knew his answer. “Okay. But only if Julis fights with us.”
Ayato had promised to help Julis. And Julis’s goal was a grand slam. He obviously couldn’t help her in the individual Lindvolus, but he fully intended to fight alongside her at the Gryps unless she told him otherwise.
“I thought you might say that. But I have to say, I’m a little jealous.” Claudia’s smile seemed forlorn. “But that’s not a problem. I was planning on recruiting Julis, as well. I don’t think she would refuse.”
As long as Julis’s sights were set on a grand slam, strong teammates were a must. The chances of her declining Claudia’s invitation would be low.
Ayato got the feeling that Claudia already had a specific plan in mind. “And what does what happened just now have to do with the Gryps?”
“Just that I wouldn’t mind sharing secrets with a teammate,” Claudia said, then activated the Pan-Dora once again.
Thanks to the earlier incident, Ayato couldn’t help recoiling.
“Please don’t worry,” Claudia said with a gentle laugh. “I won’t do it again. By the way, Ayato—Have you ever experienced death?”
“Huh…?” Ayato was bewildered. “Um… I don’t understand what you mean by the question.”
“I meant exactly what I said.”
“Well, if I had died, I wouldn’t be here, would I?” He was not a zombie, after all.
“I’ve already died over twelve hundred times.”
“What?” Ayato could only stare at her baffled, again.
Amused by his bewilderment, Claudia hefted the Pan-Dora for him. “The cost that this darling demands of the wielder is to experience one’s own death. Every time I fall asleep, I dream of my inevitable demise.”
“Experience your own death…?”
She said it casually enough, but it sounded to Ayato like horrific torture.
“Now, it never shows you the same death twice—My little one’s mischievous that way. I’m amazed at all the different ways a person can die. Illness, accident, starvation, cold, suicide, and of course—death by the hands of another. All of these I could face one day.” Claudia still spoke like the Claudia he knew, calm and kind. “Just now, I was about to be killed. I must have attacked you while I was dreaming. Again, I’m sorry.”
She bowed her head again and went on.
“When I wake, the substance of the dream melts away. All that’s left are fragments and impressions, the fear and pain I felt on the verge of death, and—how can I describe it—a bone-deep fatigue. And that is why, despite its extraordinary power of precognition, no one had been able to wield this one. I’m told that those who tried to use it before me didn’t last three days.”
Her laughter tinkled like a bell, but her words could not have been more ghastly.
“…I’m amazed you’re okay,” Ayato said.
“Yes, well—Sometimes there are occurrences like what happened tonight, but I can adapt.”
“Still…” Thinking back to her tortured face as she slept, he found it hard to believe her.
“Hmm, are you worried about me? How sweet of you.”
She was teasing him, but Ayato responded seriously, “Why wouldn’t I be?”
That embarrassed her a bit. “I believe I mentioned it before, but I do have a wish,” she said demurely. “To make it come true, I must use this weapon.”
“Then, what is your wish, Claudia?”
“That…will have to remain a secret.” She slowly shook her head.
All who come to this city have a wish. They fight to make their wish come true, and they seek strength to fight for it.
Maybe it was all perfectly normal, Ayato thought. And yet…
“Now, back to the subject at hand,” Claudia said. “The stronger the Orga Lux, the steeper the cost tends to be. Your Ser Veresta, too, requires so much prana that normal Genestella would dry up using it. It’s rare for anyone to score a high compatibility rating to begin with. You could say that the difficulty of wielding it is a part of its cost.”
She paused for a moment. Her smile and voice were entirely back to normal.
“Of course, every Orga Lux is different,” she continued, “so it’s not easy to make general statements. But isn’t this along the lines of what you wanted to discuss?”
She had seen right through him. Well then, that made it easier to get to the point.
So he asked her directly, “Claudia, what do you think of the Gravisheath?”
“I don’t know any more about it beyond the data I gave you.”
“I’m not asking for data—I’m asking for your opinion. As an Orga Lux user.” He paused, then grumbled, “You know that.”
She laughed silently. “Well… As you know, Orga Luxes have wills of their own. Do you understand what that means?”
“Huh? Umm… Well…” Ayato pondered for a bit, but none of his answers sounded quite right to him.
He gave up, raising his palms in resignation.
“It’s the same as people,” Claudia said brightly. “If they have wills, that means they have personalities, and if they have personalities, they can be put into categories.”
“Categories…?”
“I mean that there are Orga Luxes with good personalities and those with bad ones.”
“I see.” So, just like people.
“Well, there are other ways of putting it. For example, whether they’re friendly toward humans or not.”
“Then, going off that, which do you think the Ser Veresta is?”
“He—Oh, forgive me. It might be she. In any case, I think yours has a relatively good personality. Even if it is a little contrary.”
“And what about the Pan-Dora?”
“Oh, this one has the worst personality. Perhaps even as bad as mine.” Claudia giggled merrily with her hand to her mouth.
Typical Claudia, talking about herself that way.
“Then…how about the Gravisheath?” Ayato said.
“That one…” She lowered her gaze a bit. “I don’t want to speak ill of others’ darlings, but the Gravisheath strikes me as dangerous.”
“You think so, too?”
That Orga Lux was dangerous—not because of its power but, to use Claudia’s words, because of its personality.
“I’ve never faced it, so this is only my impression, but that one seemed very selfish. That kind of Orga Lux often tampers with its user.”
“Tampers…?”
“Hmm… It might be misleading to say it takes over, but some Orga Luxes can transform the mind and personality of the wielder to their liking. The longer they use it, the more marked the effect becomes. And that one already has the power to physically transform the user.”
Ayato let out a long breath and raised his eyes to the ceiling. So that must be it.
“Thanks, Claudia,” he said. “That’s helpful.”
“Don’t mention it. But why are you in such a hurry?”
“Our match is tomorrow. I have to get some rest.”
“Oh…” Claudia’s expression turned seductive as she made an unmistakable invitation. “You’d be welcome to spend the night.”
“Um, I—I think I’ll pass!” Ayato jumped up and dashed to the window.
Then, with his foot on the windowsill, he turned back. “Oh, right. About my sister—The student council president of Le Wolfe seems to know something.”
“Dirk Eberwein?” Claudia asked, sounding surprised.
“I think he might have met her.”
“I see. I’ll look into it.”
“Okay. Thanks.” With a wave, Ayato opened the window.
“Good luck tomorrow,” she called after him.
He smiled and leaped out into the night
.
CHAPTER 7
THE GRAVISHEATH
Power is necessary to protect, and to gain something requires even more strength.
Those without it inevitably lose what they treasure.
And to recover something lost demands the greatest power of all.
These were Irene Urzaiz’s guiding principles.
In southern Europe, there was a small country where the integrated enterprise foundations vied viciously for power, where the political situation was constantly unstable and seemed to sink a little deeper into the mud with each passing day. In that country, there was a town like an abandoned ruin—Irene’s hometown.
In an age of extreme centralization, when the population was concentrated in metropolises, people who lived in towns like hers were almost invariably poor. Under the rule of the integrated enterprise foundations, the system necessitated trapping a certain number of people in poverty. The predicament of Irene’s family was not uncommon.
A Genestella child born to such a family was considered a blessing. Although the discrimination against Genestella was even more pronounced farther from the cities, for the poor they were a source of money. The best outcome was to be scouted by, and perform well for, one of the Asterisk schools. But whether working for a private military company, police force, or, in the worst case, a crime syndicate, Genestella were always in demand.
Irene sensed from an early age that her parents had high expectations for her. She did not hate them for it, but she did not feel affection for them, either. Her sister Priscilla, also a Genestella, was the only one she cared for.
Where Irene saw herself as rough and vulgar, her sister was kind and innocent and, above all, adored her.
For Irene, her little sister was the only person she could love, and the only one who could return that love unconditionally.
One day, her sister was badly injured. She was in the wrong place when an old building collapsed.
It was a structure from a previous century, abandoned since the Invertia. Most places like it were barely standing, and known to be unsafe. But for the poor who had nowhere better to live, they were the only shelter.
Even most Genestella would have died from injuries like that, but Priscilla had fully recovered by the following day. That was when Irene realized her sister was a regenerative.
Every nation required examinations of Genestella to determine their talents. But in their country, governmental institutions were not entirely functional and hardly existed outside the cities. Those with unregistered abilities were not rare.
But they were always searching.
“See, Priscilla? These nice people want your help. You’ll go with them, won’t you?”
Sure enough, it wasn’t long before the scouts from Frauenlob—Allekant’s people—came for her.
Her mother sweet-talked her sister with a hand on her shoulder, her father signed the contract with an air of satisfaction, and the contract itself bound her through a “special commitment scholarship” to the notorious Allekant Academy as a student stripped of any right to protest no matter what they suffered. A specimen.
The next day, Irene left home with her sister.
She didn’t quite believe they could escape, and she didn’t know where to go.
All she knew was that if they didn’t run, she would lose her sister. That was the one reality she could not accept.
“Hey. You Irene Urzaiz?”
It was three days after they had run away from home that the man found them in the abandoned house where they had taken shelter.
He had dull rusty hair and was short and chubby. His expression was contorted with ill humor, drawing attention to the bright gleam in his eyes.
She wondered if Allekant had sent him, but that did not seem to be the case. The school crest the man wore—the crossed swords—told her that much.
“Here, use this,” he said, and tossed Irene a Lux activator.
As Irene cautiously touched it, a piercing shock shot through her body.
In that instant, she understood. This was power.
The Lux activated, and a giant scythe materialized in a purple phosphorescent glow. Energy filled her body, intense and brutal.
The man looked on, raised his eyebrows slightly, then spoke again. “Hmph, so you pass. All right. Tell me your wish.”
Irene did not understand the situation, or who the man in front of her was. But she answered without hesitation. She had only one wish in the world.
And she would sell her soul to the devil to make it come true.
The man’s expression did not change. He took out his mobile, made some kind of deal, and after a little while told her bluntly, “I just bought your sister back. Didn’t come cheap, but you can work it off.”
Once he was finished, he turned to walk away.
He suddenly paused mid-stride, and his head turned on his stocky neck so he could give the sisters a parting glare. “Just remember this. It wasn’t Le Wolfe who saved you. It was me. So you won’t be working for Le Wolfe, just me. Got it?”
Thinking back on it now, all that had happened was that their destination changed from Allekant to Le Wolfe. It didn’t fix anything.
Still, Dirk had given Irene the time and opportunity—and most importantly, the power—necessary to get Priscilla back.
That was enough.
“…Sis? It’s time to go.”
Irene opened her eyes to see Priscilla examining her with some concern.
They were in their Sirius Dome waiting room. She checked the time to find that, yes, they needed to head to the stage.
“All right. Whaddaya say we take care of some business?” Irene rose from the sofa and gently patted Priscilla’s hair. “You don’t need to worry. Just do everything like we always do.”
“Okay…”
Irene was the one who took orders from Dirk. Priscilla knew nothing and heard nothing. She simply provided her blood for Irene when necessary.
That’s how it should be, Irene thought. She was the only one who needed to dirty her hands. Those things were not for Priscilla.
That was the way they’d always done things, and it would never change.
“Still, those two are gonna be tough customers. We better give them all we got as soon as it starts.” With that, Irene activated the Gravisheath.
Priscilla took the cue and offered her neck.
An irresistible urge swelled inside Irene, and without another word, she plunged her fangs into her sister’s pale neck.
As a fragile whimper escaped Priscilla’s lips, the warm metallic flavor flowed down Irene’s throat.
I wonder when this taste became so delectable.
The Gravisheath pulsed in joy, as if to agree.
They stood like that for a full minute.
Irene released her mouth and gently caressed the small but deep wound. It disappeared before her eyes.
“Thanks, as always.”
Priscilla shook her head slowly in response. “No, this is nothing. But…”
She looked down, and Irene wrapped her arms tightly around her.
Priscilla whispered inside Irene’s embrace, “I’m sorry, sis.”
“You dummy. What’re you apologizing for?”
Every job that she finished drew Priscilla closer to her.
Dirk was not a man to be trusted, but he never broke his promises. And so right now, she had no choice but to fight.
“Well, it’s about time.”
Ayato looked up at Julis’s voice. “Oh, right. It is.”
“What’s wrong? It’s not good to think too much before a match.” Julis set her hand on her hip and frowned.
With a weak smile, Ayato waved her concerns away. “No, it’s nothing. Let’s go.”
“Hmm… If you say so.” Julis wanted more, but after checking the clock, she let out a short sigh. They headed out of the waiting room.
“Ayato.” Julis led the way, her shoes clacking, without turning to look at him.
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�Yeah?”
“I have to win. No matter who my opponent is, I have no intention of yielding. That’s why I’m here.”
“…I know.”
“But I’m not particular about how we win.”
The passageway leading to the stage seemed short, yet long.
Her voice echoed faintly back to him. “If we can win by fighting the way you want to, then let’s do it. We’re partners. We work together and fight side by side. Isn’t that the way it should be?”
“Julis…” Ayato paused and looked at her.
She also halted a few paces in front of him.
He bowed his head to her. “Thank you.”
“Silly. There’s nothing to thank me for.” Julis turned around ever so slightly with pink-tinged cheeks. “So? What do you have in mind?”
“Well, there’s something I want to try. I’m not sure if it’ll work, though…”
As Ayato outlined his plan, Julis raised her eyebrows. “Hmm… It’s not unprecedented, but this is the Gravisheath we’re talking about.”
“I know it won’t be easy,” he went on, bracing himself. “But still—”
“All right,” she sighed, but with an encouraging smile. “Try it. But you’ll probably only get one shot. If you fail, you’ll have to give up the idea.”
“I won’t have a choice.”
“As long as you’re aware of that. Good—Let’s go.” She gently extended her closed fist.
Ayato nodded then lightly bumped his fist against hers.
“Well, well, Round Four’s been a string of thrilling battles in every stadium! The contestants for the finale here at the Sirius Dome will be Team Amagiri-Riessfeld of Seidoukan Academy versus the Urzaiz sisters of Le Wolfe Black Institute! Which team will advance to the Sweet Sixteen?!”
“I’ve been looking forward to this fight. Both teams made it through the preliminaries without giving their opponents a chance, so I think we’re about to see a watershed moment.”
“Now, Ms. Tram, would you share your thoughts on how this one could pan out? Irene Urzaiz’s Gravisheath consumes a lot of energy—Does that give Seidoukan’s team an edge in a prolonged fight?”
“I wouldn’t say it’s that cut-and-dried, ya know. Priscilla allows Irene to refuel, so to speak. And in terms of raw ability…”