by Yuu Miyazaki
“Um, sorry. I’ll head back by myself. There’s someone I want to see first.”
“What? At this hour?” Julis asked dubiously.
Saya, however, tugged at her sleeve. “Julis, this is the hospital.”
“—! Right, your sister…” She glanced down at her feet in embarrassment.
“Well, I just wanted to drop in.”
“Say hi for me, too, Ayato… I’d like to see her as well, though…” Saya pouted.
That was understandable. She had known Haruka since she was a child, after all.
In fact, Ayato had asked Director Korbel about letting her visit several times, but the special treatment area was accessible only by authorized individuals, and it seemed that Saya, not being a direct family member, hadn’t been given permission to enter.
“I could tag along with you. And besides, it isn’t like we aren’t close enough. I’m like family, aren’t I?” Saya said sullenly.
“…I don’t think that will work,” Julis interrupted coolly.
“I would like to meet Ayato’s sister one day, too,” Claudia added with an amused smile. “I’m sure she’s a wonderful person.”
“…In that case, you should be able to see her pretty soon, right?” Julis, her arms crossed, said with a chuckle.
“Huh?” Ayato had no idea what she meant.
“Your wish is to wake her up, right? So all we have to do is win one more match. Then we’ll all be able to see her… Right?”
Julis looked somewhat embarrassed, but her words touched Ayato’s heart. “Right. Yes, exactly.”
Just one more match.
All they had to do was win, and he’d be able to talk to her again.
“You can be pretty sharp every now and then, Julis,” Saya commented.
“Indeed, I’m moved,” Claudia added.
“…What do you mean, every now and then?”
As he watched Julis and Saya glare at each other across the room, Ayato couldn’t help but let out a light laugh. “Well then, see you all tomorrow.”
“Ah, Ayato. Let me know when you want to come back. I’ll arrange a car to pick you up.”
“Thanks, Claudia,” Ayato responded, touched by her concern.
With nothing else to discuss, he gently stroked Kirin’s head one last time before leaving the room.
“Hmm, hmm, hmm…”
Sylvia hummed to herself as she strolled through the corridor on the top floor of Queenvale Academy for Young Ladies’ Twin Hall.
She was happier than she had found herself in a long time.
That wasn’t just because Ayato’s Team Enfield had made it through to the championship, nor simply because all his efforts thus far had paid off. No, those things were, of course, wonderful; but even more than that, she was overjoyed by the fact that they were now viewed not as toys, but dangers, to the IEFs.
In Asterisk, the integrated enterprise foundations were practically the world, and it was all but impossible to oppose them. She couldn’t be more grateful to Ayato and the others for proving that, no matter how calculating they were, no matter how much they thought they could treat their students as mere tools, that it was indeed possible to strike back.
She was thrilled beyond words.
“…And you were pretty cool, too, Ayato.”
Their semifinal match had been a fierce one, and Ayato had been on the back foot against Hagun Seikun from the very beginning—but then love, as they say, is blind to one’s imperfections.
She was, of course, worried about Kirin Toudou’s injuries, but according to the official announcement released just a short while ago, her life wasn’t in danger, though it was unlikely she would be able to compete in the championship.
It would be difficult to win against Team Lancelot fighting one member short, but given how Ayato and the others had overcome every obstacle thus far, Sylvia remained hopeful.
I’ll have to go cheer them on! she thought as she reached the office of Queenvale’s executive chairwoman, Petra Kivilehto, knocking quietly on the door as she tried to make her face appear normal.
“Petra, can I come in?”
The door opened without a sound. As she entered the room—
“I suppose congratulations are in order,” Petra called out.
“…What are you talking about?”
The older woman’s voice was as cool and composed as ever, rendering her emotions all but unreadable. She was standing in front of a wide window overlooking the brightly lit nighttime cityscape, staring at Sylvia through the visor covering her eyes. “Your friend, Ayato Amagiri, and his team made it through to the championship, after all,” she continued.
“Oh, that,” she replied, her composure slipping. She put her hands on her hips, trying to keep her elation from showing too much. “Yes, they did. But you didn’t call me here just to say that, did you?”
At this, Petra merely opened an air-window in total silence, casting it toward her.
“And this is?”
The air-window showed the faces of several Queenvale students.
“They’re members of Benetnasch… Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that they were members of Benetnasch.”
Claudia’s expression suddenly stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“I decided to do some digging of my own into that organization—the Golden Bough Alliance. I was having them look into it.”
“…Why is this the first I’ve heard about it?”
The Golden Bough Alliance: a mysterious organization that seemed to have something to do with her former teacher, Ursula Svend. There was no direct evidence proving its existence, but according to Petra, the name had been picked up by Queenvale’s intelligence networks after Sylvia had intensified her search for her missing friend—or more specifically, after she had begun looking into Orga Luxes.
That being the case, the two couldn’t be unrelated.
Even so, Sylvia had been unable to locate either Ursula or anyone else related to the organization. And a name alone wasn’t enough to do anything.
But it looked like Petra had done some digging of her own.
“You do know that I’m under no obligation to report this to you, don’t you?”
Sylvia almost flared up at Petra’s curt manner of speaking, but she forced herself to keep her cool. Under any other circumstances, she would have been able to brush such comments aside without worry, but things were different when it came to Ursula.
Petra ought to have understood that, which meant she was intentionally trying to provoke her.
“…Hmm. It looks like you’re calm enough to talk about this sensibly,” Petra remarked.
“Will you stop trying to test me?”
Sylvia couldn’t bring herself to be angry. She, too, was under no obligation to report to her, and had yet to tell her about her encounter with Ursula—or at least, the person who had once been Ursula—at the Gran Colosseo. She wasn’t exactly sure why she was so reluctant to involve the woman, but it no doubt had something to do with that mysterious Orga Lux. So in a way, they were both keeping secrets from each other.
That said, since Petra was monitoring Sylvia’s actions, at least to some extent, it was possible she already knew something. In that respect, Petra undeniably had an advantage.
“This is a dangerous matter, Sylvie. I still haven’t been able to find the whereabouts of those girls.”
“And you gave such a dangerous job to Benetnasch?”
Queenvale’s intelligence organization specialized in the control and manipulation of information and wasn’t as proficient as those of the other schools when it came to combat or subterfuge. When something called for a genuinely dangerous investigation, it was better to call in their integrated enterprise foundation’s own forces—as Galaxy had done just the other day.
“For now, I’ve merely been looking into things myself. If I wanted to involve anyone higher than Benetnasch, I would need the authorization of the board of directors. But I’ll admit now
that I underestimated this Alliance…” Despite her words, Petra’s tone remained cool and detached. “I have been able to learn one thing, however. It seems that someone called Lamina Mortis, the Blade of Death, is involved with this Golden Bough Alliance in some capacity.”
“…Lamina Mortis?”
“He used to be a regular contestant in the Eclipse.”
“—!” Sylvia’s eyes opened wide in surprise before narrowing in suspicion. “What’s this? You’re willing to tell me about the Eclipse now?”
Sylvia and Petra—or technically, the integrated enterprise foundation W&W—had a contractual relationship. Sylvia’s goal was, it went without saying, to locate Ursula, and while W&W would monitor any actions that she undertook to that end, they would neither interfere nor cooperate. In exchange, she worked for Queenvale as a songstress, both promoting the school and producing considerable income for it.
Sylvia had long since surmised that the IEFs knew much more about the Eclipse than they let on, but there was no way that Petra would have divulged that to her. At least, that had been the way of things until now.
“I decided that it would be in your best interests to know this. So that you understand just how dangerous what you’re doing really is.”
“…” Sylvia had her doubts whether that was the real reason but resolved to listen on in silence.
“You may have misunderstood this, but what W&W knows about the Eclipse is only a small part of the equation. Danilo Bertoni was the one who organized it, and he did it in a way that, in principle, there would be no direct relationship leading back to the foundations. Because no matter how you look at it, that event was clearly overkill. It would reflect poorly on anyone who got tied up in it.”
“In principle…? So there was some kind of connection?”
“It appears that some people went there as spectators.”
Sylvia wasn’t particularly surprised by this revelation.
“To the extent that the foundations were willing to tolerate its existence, there was some utility value to the Eclipse,” Petra continued. “It had a number of passionate enthusiasts, you see. Anyway, after Danilo died, and the Eclipse was exposed by the city guard, the foundations had the investigation shut down to keep those connections from getting out. Danilo worked for Solnage, after all, and they didn’t want to be tarnished by his actions. But more than that, there seems to have been some secret that all the foundations, to one extent or another, wanted to keep from getting out…”
“That’s enough.” Sylvia didn’t want to hear any more. She already felt slightly tainted. “What does that have to do with this Lamina Mortis?”
“I’m afraid that not even we know the details. In principle, like in the Festa, contestants in the Eclipse had to be students at one of the schools, but there seem to have been cases where they would compete against other fighters selected by the organizers. Lamina Mortis seems to have been one of those.”
“…Was he strong?”
“As strong as his name suggests.”
Lamina Mortis—it was enough to make her hair stand on end.
Sylvia had tried to look into the Eclipse herself, but all she had learned was that patronage was restricted to a select number of highly discerning individuals, while participation was limited only to those of a corresponding level of prowess.
“A battle against Lamina Mortis was more execution than anything else. It seems that his cruelty and savagery made him particularly popular among the Eclipse’s sponsors. Although, he didn’t make an appearance particularly often.”
Sylvia couldn’t bring herself to respond. It sounded like the lowest kind of event imaginable.
“As I said, participation wasn’t limited to students. This Lamina Mortis seems to have been a somewhat older man. He always covered his face with a mask, so no one seems to know his true identity. Based on his skill, however, he must be a well-known fighter of some sort.”
“…A mask?” Sylvia repeated dubiously.
Maybe things had been different in the distant past, but in this day and age, Sylvia couldn’t help but wonder whether it was really possible to hide one’s identity that way. She herself often went out in disguise and understood that the key to remaining hidden was to not draw attention to oneself, to hide one’s presence and blend into the crowd. With a little bit of effort, that wasn’t particularly difficult.
That assumed, however, that one wasn’t already the focus of people’s attention. If the Eclipse’s patrons were as discerning as Petra said, any attempt at disguise would no doubt merely foster further intrigue. And if this Lamina Mortis was indeed famous, then a mask wouldn’t be able to hide his build or height nor, for that matter, his individual fighting style.
“Anyway, this is my second piece of advice. The darkness that you’re trying to penetrate goes much deeper than you think.” For once, there was an unusual tinge of emotion in her voice.
As per the terms of their contract, Petra was unable to try to stop Sylvia. She understood that well enough. Nor would she be able to persuade her into giving up on her search. But she could, perhaps, help her to understand just what she was getting into.
If what she said was true, both that mysterious Orga Lux and this Lamina Mortis were involved in what had happened to Ursula in some way.
The Golden Bough Alliance…
Sylvia glanced to the side, casting her gaze through the window to the cityscape below as a cold chill ran up her spine.
“…Hagun Seikun was strong. I don’t think I’ve fought anyone that strong since my last practice duel with you. Still, Kirin beat him. She really is amazing.” Ayato was trying to keep his mind occupied by relating all manner of things to his comatose sister.
He told her about the day’s events, fond memories he had with her, his friends—practically anything that came to mind. But even he was aware that, at times like this, he must have come across as incredibly childish.
Of course, Haruka, lying in her hospital bed, didn’t respond to any of it.
“And then everyone kept saying how much they want to meet you. Saya, in particular, was disappointed at not being able to come here yet. But if she could come, I’m sure it would be you who would be the surprised one. She really hasn’t changed at all since then…”
He stopped there, unable to go on.
A strange melancholy fell over him every time he came here to see her. It was an indescribable feeling, a sense of relief and fondness, mixed in with an inescapable touch of unease.
Haruka hadn’t changed at all from how he remembered her, from how she had been the last time they had spoken.
But that was six years ago, and of course, Ayato had grown considerably since then.
He was now practically an adult. He had changed, but she remained the same. He couldn’t help but feel as if they had become irreparably estranged.
If she were to wake up and see him as he was today, what kind of face would she make, what would she say?
“…I’d better get going, Haru,” he said, getting up from his chair.
Even so, that didn’t change the fact that the wish most dear to him was to find a way to awaken her.
Which was why he had no choice but to win tomorrow’s match.
“Hmm…?” He glanced around as he stepped out of his sister’s hospital room. He’d thought he had heard something, but there was no one in sight.
He was in a special, underground section of the hospital, accessible only by a very select few individuals. He had come there countless times before, but the only time he had ever seen anyone else down there was when he had first been shown around.
And yet…
“—!”
He suddenly noticed a presence in the shadows of the corridor far ahead of him, and all but reflexively, he adopted a defensive posture.
The figure, dressed in a hooded robe, clearly wasn’t one of the hospital staff. On top of that, Ayato had met this person before.
“You…!”
I
t was the same woman who had attacked Sylvia during the Gran Colosseo, her former teacher, Ursula Svend—or at least, the body of Ursula Svend.
“Stop,” the hooded figure said impassively as Ayato reached for the Ser Veresta. “I have no quarrel with you.”
“…Then what do you want?”
Ayato could hardly accept that her presence here was a coincidence.
“Follow me. There’s someone who wants to see you,” she said before heading off down the corridor.
After a brief moment of hesitation, Ayato made up his mind.
He knew he should contact Sylvia, but he himself still didn’t understand the situation. There would no doubt be unforeseen consequences if either acted rashly.
So he resolved to follow after the hooded figure alone.
It might have been the middle of the night, but even so, there was something unnatural about the fact that there was no one else around. Perhaps the woman simply knew the hospital so well as to avoid bumping into anyone else, but something seemed inexplicably off.
“…Here,” she said, coming to a stop outside a large courtyard.
The space was almost the size of a small park. Amid the lush, well-tended trees stood a lone, masked man.
“Welcome, Ayato Amagiri.”
There was something familiar about his voice, his figure, though Ayato couldn’t pinpoint exactly what.
He was sure he knew that man, and yet, for some reason, the name wouldn’t come to mind, as if a haze lay heavy over his thoughts.
“Ah, you needn’t bother trying to see through the mask. This place is under my friend’s control. You won’t be able to recognize me here.”
Ayato found it hard to believe the man’s words, and yet, he had spoken so assuredly.
The woman had indeed demonstrated some kind of mind control the last time he had encountered her, but to think that it was strong enough to affect one’s sense of recognition…
“Strictly speaking, I don’t even need the mask. Think of it more as a matter of style… Well then, let me introduce myself. When I wear this mask, I go by the name of Lamina Mortis.”