by Yuu Miyazaki
“Your great-aunt…? Ah, the one in charge of the Toudou style’s head school? Is she difficult to deal with?”
Based on what he had heard previously, she had returned to the head family from one of its many branch schools after what had happened to Kirin’s father.
The only one of Kirin’s relatives with whom Ayato was acquainted was her uncle Kouichirou. He couldn’t help but wonder whether her great-aunt was as self-interested as he was.
“N-no! I mean, she’s a wonderful person, really. I respect her a lot!” Kirin cried out to correct him.
There could be no doubting the sincerity that shone in her eyes.
“Then why…?”
“I mean… She’s a very perceptive, very disciplined person… She’ll just be disappointed if she sees me like I am now…”
“Disappointed…? I don’t think so. You’ve grown tremendously since we first met. The results speak for themselves.”
“I’m grateful to hear you say that, Ayato, but still… That isn’t really it.” Kirin hung her head, biting at her lip. “The real problem is me—with my spirit, I suppose.”
“Your spirit…?”
“At the end of the Gryps, I got a call from her. She wanted to congratulate me on our victory, and she asked me to come home to take her place as head of the family.”
“…What?!” Ayato’s eyes opened wide in surprise.
In other words, she would have to leave Seidoukan.
“My great-aunt was only ever temporarily in charge, and since they won’t let my dad take over again…”
“But Kirin…is that what you want?”
“N-no! I want to stay at Seidoukan, and—and keep improving my skills with you and the others!”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
Her answer came as a relief, and yet—
“But you know… I only went to Asterisk to help my father. Now that I’ve done that, I don’t know whether I can convince her to let me stay…” Her expression darkening, Kirin’s voice gradually trailed off.
“She’ll understand if you talk it over with her, right…?”
If she was worthy of Kirin’s respect, then there was high chance she was the type of person who listened to others’ perspectives.
“Maybe she would, normally… But I’m sure she’ll see right through me, see just how lost I am…”
“How lost you are?” Ayato wondered.
Kirin raised her head, casting her gaze across the water toward the receding city. “In the way of the sword,” she whispered softly.
“…”
Kirin’s words rang heavy, and while Ayato wracked his brain for a suitable response, nothing came to mind.
As far as his own swordsmanship was concerned, he too had a long way to go.
“I put everything I had into the semifinal, of course, and I can’t say I’m unhappy with the result. But it was due to luck more than anything else that I beat Hagun Seikun.”
There was no denying that Hagun Seikun had been a formidable opponent. It was thanks to Kirin’s clairvoyance ability that they had won, but even Ayato didn’t know whether she would be able to come out on top were she to face him again.
“But still… In spite of that, it’s frustrating. I want to become stronger. But I don’t know what to do… Like I said, I don’t want to leave Seidoukan. It’s only thanks to you, Ayato, and the others too, that I’ve been able to improve like I have. And yet…if I wanted to really master the Toudou style, there’s no doubt that it would be best to go home…”
“So…is that why you didn’t want to make a decision about the Fudaraku?”
Kirin nodded.
Claudia had first suggested that Kirin try the katana-shaped Orga Lux several days prior. It seemed that, after that first discussion, she had explained its abilities to Kirin in more detail and suggested that she take a compatibility test, but in the end, Kirin had simply asked for more time to think it over.
Personally, to Ayato at least, the Fudaraku’s abilities seemed well-suited to her particular battle style, so he had been somewhat surprised by her response.
“That’s one option, to start using an Orga Lux… Like Tenka Musou did. But I don’t know whether it’s the best one…”
Hufeng Zhao, alias Tenka Musou, had used an Orga Lux in that same semifinal match against Xiaohui Wu; he had called it proof of his own weakness, of his shallow fixation on victory.
There was a purity in that way of thinking, but whether or not it had anything to do with the strength Kirin sought was another matter entirely.
“…I don’t know what I should do anymore…,” Kirin murmured as she tried to stop the wind from blowing her hair into disarray.
Her voice was almost drowned out by an announcement informing them that they would be arriving at the terminal momentarily.
At that, Kirin turned to Ayato, as if only now coming back to her senses, and bowed her head deeply. “I—I’m sorry! This must sound so strange…!”
Ayato’s chest ached at the sight of her brave smile.
He understood how important her swordsmanship was to her. It was, in a certain sense, the very core of Kirin Toudou. Ayato could only imagine how uneasy she would have to be to let her trepidation show through her usually unassuming, reserved demeanor.
“…By the way, Kirin,” Ayato began. “Did you tell your family when exactly you would be going home?”
“Huh? No, just that I’d be coming back during winter vacation…” Her voice, as she answered him, was frank, though her expression was quizzical.
I might not be very good at giving advice, but he might be…
Although, to be honest, Ayato didn’t like having to rely on him like this.
Still, he couldn’t leave Kirin by herself while she had so much on her mind, and he could hardly think of anyone more appropriate to offer guidance of this sort. And above all, if he let this chance slip by, there might not be another.
In that case—
“I-if you’re okay with it…how about you come back to my place first?”
“…Huh?” Kirin squeaked, her mouth agape.
Ayato tried to explain. “I mean, my dad might be able to—”
“Huuuuuuuuuuh?!”
Kirin, however, let out a loud cry before he could finish speaking, her face having turned scarlet.
More than a hundred small flames flickered throughout the darkened training room reserved for Seidoukan Academy’s Page Ones.
Each was around the size of a candle, but they had been carefully arranged to sketch out complicated, geometric patterns that continuously shifted in form.
Julis, standing at the center of it all with her eyes tightly shut, focused her prana and concentration to their limits, like an ascetic deep in prayer. The sizes, speed, and timing were precisely as she was imaging them—even the slightest inaccuracy would bring it all crashing down.
Several minutes had passed since she had begun.
When the alarm she had set finally sounded, she opened her eyes and let out a deep sigh.
“Phew… I guess this is it…”
The candles all vanished as the training room’s usual floodlights reactivated.
It was Sister Therese from the orphanage in Lieseltania who had first taught her how to do this.
It was a basic form of training for Stregas, essential if one wished to hone one’s control over one’s prana. When she had first started, she hadn’t been able to maintain four such flames for five minutes. When she looked back on it, even she had to admit she had grown significantly, but there was no denying she was still far from the point she wanted to reach.
“I guess all I can do is keep trying to improve my accuracy… Huh?”
As she wiped her body down with a towel, an air-window opened up before her to announce a visitor.
No sooner did she recognize the gigantic young man projected in the display than the doors slid open.
“Well! It’s been a while, Lester.”
“…Hmph!” Seidoukan Ac
ademy’s ninth-ranked fighter, Lester MacPhail, alias Kornephoros, snorted curtly as he straightened himself to his full height, staring down at Julis in challenge.
Lester and Julis had had their fair share of quarrels in the past, but since the Phoenix the previous year, they hadn’t found themselves able to flare up at each other like they once had. And since this year Julis had been so busy training for the Gryps, this was her first time seeing him face-to-face in several months.
“…What on earth happened to you?” Julis asked with a frown.
Lester’s body was nearly covered head to foot in bandages, and the areas that weren’t looked heavily bruised.
Lester made a face. “Forget about it. It’s no big deal.”
“Hmm… If you say so. Then what brings you here?” she asked, although if she was being honest, she didn’t particularly care.
“Isn’t it obvious? Fight me, Julis.”
“Huh…? This again? And I thought you’d grown up a little.” Julis stared up at him with incredulity. “I don’t think so. Stand aside please.”
“…Why not?” The old Lester might have been incensed by her response, but this time, his voice was calm.
“Because I don’t stand to gain anything from fighting you.” Julis, beginning to wonder whether he might have matured a little, didn’t mince her words.
“You can think of it as training! I heard you’re entering the Lindvolus, right? So a fight with another Page One will be a valuable experience for you!”
“We’ve already done this three times over. Do you really think there’s anything left for me to learn? No matter how you try to spin it, your fighting style is too set in stone. You might have made the Named Cult, but at this rate, even that will be in jeopardy sooner or later.”
Perhaps Julis’s chosen words were too strong, but Lester merely wrinkled his eyebrows in response. “You’re right, of course… At least, you would have been, even just one month ago.”
“Oh, so you’re saying things have changed? And it only took a month?”
“See for yourself.”
Throughout their exchange, Lester was managing to remain perfectly calm.
Mentally, at least, he did seem to have changed considerably.
“What if we made it a mock battle, with no effect on the rankings?”
“Hmm… Fine. If you really insist on it,” Julis relented, activating her Rect Lux.
“Ha-ha! Now you’re talking!” Lester exclaimed, immediately activating his own ax-shaped Lux, the Bardiche-Leo, and rushing toward her.
Julis’s enthusiasm certainly didn’t match his, but she did want to find out what was driving his sudden confidence now.
While she hadn’t risen in rank, she was much stronger now than she had been two years ago. But Lester wasn’t an idiot—he should have realized that.
And yet, something had emboldened him to challenge her.
As the automated voice announced the beginning of the mock battle, Julis concentrated her prana and waited for her opponent to make the first move.
Lester’s fighting style essentially prioritized strength over technique and involved rapidly bringing himself down on his opponents in close combat to overwhelm them with his sheer power. Of course, he would take advantage of his opponent’s weaknesses when they revealed themselves, like when he had fought Irene during the Phoenix, but Julis would provide no such obvious openings.
Indeed, while Julis had assumed from his bearing that he would begin with his usual swift assault, he instead braced himself, edging toward her carefully.
“Hmm… In that case, I’ll go first! Burst into bloom—Livingston Daisy!”
Eight rings of flame materialized around her, before swooping down on her opponent.
“Arghhhhhhhhhh!”
Lester, as if he had read her intentions, charged forward with a terrific roar, mowing through the rings of flame before they could properly deploy.
And then—
“Meteor Arts…?!”
Smoke engulfed the room as Lester’s battle-ax, having increased to a gargantuan size through mana excitation overload, extinguished the rings in a single stroke.
He immediately took advantage of that opening to close the distance between them.
His giant body emerged from the smoke, his battle-ax swinging down toward her—
“Nngh…!”
Julis managed to protect herself with her Rect Lux, but the impact was enough to send two of her four terminals flying through the air. Lester had always been among Seidoukan’s best when it came to brute strength, and he seemed to have improved on it markedly since their last encounter.
Even so, the wide arc of his attack left a considerable opening.
Julis spun around his right-hand side, positioning her blade to strike directly at the school crest at his chest, when—
“I don’t think so!” Lester cried out before it could reach its target, blocking her with his left arm and sending her crashing backward.
Martial arts…?!
The Meteor Arts that he had used a moment ago had been remarkably polished. Lester, it seemed, had finally found way to put his overabundance of prana to use.
On top of that, he was somehow wielding his humongous ax with one hand, forcing Julis backward in retreat.
At that moment, two of Julis’s Rect Lux terminals swung around behind him, making their way toward him from his blind spot, but Lester, having already realized they were coming, brushed them both off before pulling back.
This, too, took Julis by surprise. Lester wasn’t normally the kind of person to relent once he entered close combat, unless he had taken considerable damage.
“…I see. I guess I’ll have to admit you weren’t bluffing. How’d you do it in such short time?”
Their brief exchange was enough for Julis to notice the changes. He hadn’t become dramatically stronger or anything like that. He was more powerful, true, but his speed and close-combat techniques weren’t significantly different from how she remembered them.
There was one area, however, where he had most definitely improved.
His fighting style.
Where before he had been headstrong to the point of foolhardiness, now he was successfully managing to capitalize on his strongest asset, his raw power, to control the flow of the match. He had undergone rapid growth, but it was clearly based on how he had fought before—an ideal evolution of his distinct battle style, so to speak.
“Hmph! I’ll let you know if you can beat me!” he declared with a dauntless laugh.
“Oh, will you now…? I’ll hold you to that!”
Julis deployed her Rect Lux once more, using her rapier to carve a magic circle through the air.
“Burst into bloom—Antirrhinum Majus!”
He might have been able to dispel one of her more delicate techniques, but what about something on a larger scale?
The flames erupting around her took the form of a huge dragon, its wings spreading wide to either side as it swooped down toward him.
“Hah, I thought you’d try that one!”
Once more, Lester used Meteor Arts to make his battle-ax swell to an enormous size, before lashing out at the dragon head-on.
Though he swung his weapon downward with all his strength, sending the dragon crashing to the ground in an immediate explosion of flames, there was no chance he could have avoided the conflagration at that distance.
Nonetheless, he had, it seemed, shielded himself with his ax, swollen to enormous proportions thanks to his Meteor Arts.
“…Impressive, Lester!”
But he wasn’t like Ayato or Orphelia—if he kept using Meteor Arts at the rate he was, he would soon exhaust his prana.
“I’ll just have to finish this before that!” Lester, as if having read her mind, cried out as he charged toward her once more.
But Julis, having expected as much, had already set a trap directly in front of him.
“Blossom—Gloriosa!”
“Too easy!
”
To escape the explosion erupting at his feet, Lester immediately leaped sideways—but the only way he could have done that was if he had known beforehand that she had set it there.
“…What?!” Julis cried in dismay.
“I thought you’d try that one!” Lester called out. He paused for a moment to catch his breath, before raising his ax overhead.
“I’m impressed… But it looks like I’m still better at reading you,” Julis answered coolly as her second trap activated.
“Wha—?!”
“Blossom—Semiserrata!”
A camellia-like ball of flame unfolded above, engulfing Lester and Julis alike.
“Gaaaaah!”
Julis knew how to resist the explosion, but Lester had no such defense.
He tried to escape the rolling flames, but not before the tip of Julis’s blade reached its target with a sharp clink.
“Looks like it’s over.”
“…Tch. So it didn’t work after all,” Lester grumbled as he raised his hand to his crest to admit defeat.
“End of practice battle! Winner: Julis-Alexia von Riessfeld!”
As the mechanical voice made its announcement, Lester, sprawled on the ground, breathed a heavy sigh. “I thought I’d last a bit longer at least…”
“No, to be honest, you almost had me. I’d have been in real danger if you had gotten close.”
“Hmph. You still had other options open to you.”
“…That’s true.”
Lester certainly had considerable power, but there was no denying the big difference in the speed and rate of his attacks compared with those of Ayato or Kirin. It would be hard to imagine him successfully getting the better of Julis as she was now.
At his current level of skill, that was.
But if what he had said earlier was true, and he really had improved so much over merely one month, then, assuming he kept working to maximize his potential, he might manage to reach a stage where Julis would be unable to best him.
“I’m sorry for looking down on you, Lester. Really,” Julis said as she held out her hand.
Lester stared up at her with an expression she hadn’t seen before. “You’ve changed, Julis.”