by Yuu Miyazaki
That way of fighting was the Amagiri Shinmei style’s specialty.
“Amagiri Shinmei Style Grappling Technique—Grindstone Pommel!”
Ayato moved in on his opponent, diving forward with a diagonal slash from top to bottom. Ernest may have managed to dodge that, but he couldn’t escape Ayato slamming the weapon’s hilt into his abdomen.
“Guh?!
Ayato didn’t stop there, using his free right hand to strike his opponent’s chin—only to have Ernest dive his knee deep into the pit of his stomach.
Even having exchanged such fierce blows, both remained armed and ready, neither allowing themselves to sink to the ground in defeat.
As Ernest lashed out with a downward diagonal slash, Ayato met it with an upward strike of his own, both deflecting the other’s attack. When they closed the distance, they lashed out at each other with their hands and elbows, homing in on the other’s vital organs, just waiting for an opportunity to pin their opponent down.
Blood splattered across the stage with every strike of their blades, punch, and blow, and yet, neither one allowed himself to falter, neither allowed himself to yield so much as an inch of ground.
They were remarkably similar. Ayato was perhaps the fitter of the two, but in terms of raw ferocity, he couldn’t keep pace.
Either one might come out of the battle on top.
Even so, if they kept this up, there could only be one outcome. One would end up taking the other’s life.
He would have to finish it before it could come to that.
Ayato fought to get his ragged breathing under control as he slowly edged toward his opponent, looking for some kind of opening, anything, when—
“A halo of mercy and atonement I give to thee,” came Percival’s gentle voice ringing across the stage, followed by a wave of golden light.
Neither Ayato nor Ernest, both fighting at their absolute best, should have had any difficulty evading it.
For both of them, however, this was the perfect opportunity.
The two threw themselves toward each other with all their weight, crashing together with such force that sparks flew in every direction.
A crater erupted at their feet, the force of their blows so strong as to send rubble flying through the air.
They were both putting everything they had left into this close-fought duel.
They each clenched their teeth as they pushed against each other, but the difference in ability was readily apparent. More important than that, however, was that this wasn’t a contest of strength, but rather a kind of delicate negotiation.
When finally they pulled back from each other, it was Ayato who retreated ever so slightly.
Ernest only needed a split second to follow through once more.
At that moment, Laetitia’s wings of light descended toward him, but Ernest paid that no heed as he lunged toward Ayato’s chest with the tip of his blade.
It went without saying that, if Ernest had been his usual self, he would have linked up with Laetitia’s wings.
If he had done that, Ayato would have lost then and there.
However…that would have required that he fight as part of a team.
“Burst into bloom—Anthurium!”
A shield of fire manifested in front of Ayato’s chest, protecting his crest and stopping Ernest’s blade in its tracks.
And then—
“Boom.”
Six separate beams of Saya’s homing blaster made straight for Ernest’s own badge.
“Tch!” The Gallardworth student clicked his tongue as he cleared them away with a flick of his blade, but that split-second opening was all Ayato needed.
“Amagiri Shinmei Style, Hidden Technique—Crescent Carnage!”
Ayato launched himself off the stage to slice through Ernest’s school crest with a rounded arc, when—
“Not yet!”
Just before Ayato’s blade could reach him, Ernest managed to block it from making contact.
“Yaaaaaargh!”
Letting out an earsplitting roar, and with a gruesome grin that was a bloodcurdling concoction of savage ecstasy, Ernest pushed back against him.
His longsword glimmered through the air as it sped straight toward him.
With his arms outstretched, Ayato’s chest was now vulnerable, leaving him no possibility to defend himself.
And yet—
“Raaaaaah!”
Right.
The Gryps was, first and foremost, a team contest.
“—?!”
Claudia, having jumped out from behind him, parried Ernest’s blow with the blade in her right hand while using the chambered one held in her left to home in on his chest.
“Ernest Fairclough—crest broken.”
“End of battle! Winners: Team Enfield!”
As the mechanical voice resounded across the now-silent stage, Claudia, the twin blades of the Pan-Dora still gripped in either hand, flashed the fallen team leader an exhausted smile. “As long as I have my companions behind me, even I’m fit to be your opponent, Ernest.”
EPILOGUE
“Phew…” When she watched the match finally reach its dramatic conclusion from her hospital bed, Kirin let out a deep sigh of relief.
“At… At last! The championship is decided! Having risen to the top of this year’s two hundred and fifty teams and having snatched glory in the face of their overwhelming numerical disadvantage, it’s Team Enfield!”
“If this were the Lindvolus, that duel between contestant Amagiri and contestant Fairclough may have ended very differently. That being said, I must confess my surprise that it wasn’t Team Lancelot that pulled through here…”
The excited voices of the announcer and commentator spilled out from the live broadcast projected in the air-window in front of her, along with an indistinct cacophony of cheers and applause.
There could be no mistaking that it had been a severely fought contest.
Kirin’s hands, clenched tightly in suspense the whole time, were now covered in sweat. From the moment it started, she had been bracing herself for the worst, unable to relax for so much as a second.
Even now, after having watched Ayato apparently break through his final seal and unleash his true power, and having watched Ernest somehow manage to increase his technique to surpass even that, she still couldn’t command her racing heart to calm down.
And while they might have won, she still couldn’t bring herself to wipe away the shame that continued to torment her for not having been able to be there herself.
“…Congratulations, everyone,” she whispered in a small voice, hands gripping her blanket ever tighter.
She couldn’t say she was unhappy. She was, of course, overjoyed to be a member of the victorious team, not to mention immensely proud at having been able to carry the semifinal despite her own paltry ability.
On top of that, even if she was absent from the final match, that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be able to have her wish granted (although, strictly speaking, that was determined based on how many matches any given contestant had participated in). Now she would finally be able to free her father. That was, after all, her most sincere wish.
And yet, in spite of all that, she still couldn’t shake her feelings of shame.
The fact that she hadn’t been able to stand beside her friends on the stage, to fight beside them, and to snatch victory alongside them, was, for her, unbearably mortifying.
“I suppose I really am still inexperienced…,” she said to the empty room, her shoulders slumping.
She could feel her energy returning to her, albeit it in dribs and drabs, but it was still far from the level at which she could properly control it. Having seen just how powerful Ayato had been during the match, she knew that she still had a long way to go.
Even if only in a minor way, she wanted to be able to stand beside him as his equal.
“Wh-what am I saying…?!”
But just as her thoughts led her into a flustered pani
c, her mobile began to ring.
She had automatically assumed it must have been from Ayato and the others, but she could see on the air-window that they were all still in the middle of their winners’ interview. As she glanced at her mobile, a completely unexpected name stood out.
She hurriedly shut the air-window displaying the live broadcast and opened a new, smaller one to take the call.
As the image of a woman of advanced age appeared in front of her, she all but unthinkingly straightened her back and sat up straight.
“Great-Aunt! I’m sorry I haven’t kept in touch…”
“Yo, it’s been a while,” Dirk’s low voice echoed through the wide access corridor underneath the Sirius Dome.
On the stage above, everyone would be getting ready for the awards ceremony and the formal closing speeches, so it was all but guaranteed that no one else would come down here.
No one else, that was, except for the person he had expressly summoned.
“What do you want, D? Are you really still hiding behind the name of the institute?” The figure that emerged from the wan darkness belonged to none other than Saint Gallardworth Academy’s fifth-ranked fighter, a person who, until just a short time ago, had been fighting as part of Team Lancelot—Percival Gardner.
“It’s been what, ten years…? Who would have thought you’d go to Gallardworth of all places? I’ll be honest with you—I didn’t even realize it myself until I had some people look into it. And you’ve got the Holy Grail, too?”
“Well, I recognized you from the very beginning. You really haven’t changed at all. Le Wolfe suits you.” Percival continued to look straight ahead, her expression calm and unfazed. “So? You didn’t call me here to talk about the past. I’ve got an awards ceremony to go to.”
“Hmph, that goes for me, too.” As a student council president, he was, in principle, expected to attend formal events of that kind. “Let’s get straight to the point. Come back. Work with me. You’d be much more useful than the dolts I’ve got now.”
“…I don’t know what you mean. You want me to transfer to Le Wolfe?”
“Don’t be an idiot. You know as well as I do that transferring schools is against the Stella Carta. Don’t you?” Dirk clicked his tongue in annoyance as he glared across at her. “Give us…no, give me a hand. I’m putting certain plans into motion. If you do that, I’ll make sure your wish gets granted.”
“…My wish?” At that, her steely expression finally wavered.
“Your wish, yeah. You don’t need to take the long way and win at the Festa to get that done. I’ll grant it faster than they ever could. And to be honest… I watched the match. You don’t have a chance in hell of getting what you want that way.”
“…I did the best I could.”
“That’s what I’m telling you. Your best won’t cut it there.”
“…”
Seeing that Percival wasn’t about to talk back to his abuse, Dirk surmised that she must have also realized that for herself. “You’re the one who keeps going on about being a weapon, right? So what you need isn’t friends. It’s a competent user.”
“And that’s you?”
“Just think back to ten years ago, and you’ll have your answer.”
Percival remained silent for a long, drawn-out moment before finally answering. “Very well. I’ll hear you out.”
“Ah… I’m glad that’s over. I thought the Phoenix was bad, but now I really am sick of their way of putting fighters up on a pedestal like that.” Julis, limping down the corridor as they made their way back to their prep room after the ceremony, wouldn’t stop complaining.
“Dear me, and I thought you went straight to the hospital after that one and missed all the formalities,” Claudia pointed out with a smile.
“I wish I could have done the same thing this time,” Julis retorted before turning her piercing gaze to Ayato. “But one of us is much worse off than I am, and if he wouldn’t go, it wasn’t like I could, either.”
“Ha-ha-ha…” Ayato, his body covered in first-aid dressings, looked away, scratching at his cheek.
To be honest, he, too, had wanted nothing more than to rest, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn away the academy’s associated publicity groups.
Fortunately, none of his injuries were life-threatening, and with his seal finally being properly unlocked, not even his many wounds could dampen his mood.
“By the way… Are you all right, Saya?” Claudia asked.
“Ah…” Saya, who had been following them all half asleep slowly raised her thumb.
“That’s some dexterity you’ve got there,” Julis answered sarcastically, when she suddenly turned tense. “Huh?”
“Hello again, Team Enfield.”
Standing across from them, down the corridor, were the various faces of Team Lancelot.
“We didn’t have a chance to talk properly up on the podiums. Let me begin by congratulating you all,” Ernest said with his usual charming smile. Like Ayato, he, too, was injured all over, his wounds similarly freshly treated.
“…It looks like you’re back to normal,” Claudia remarked.
“Ah-ha-ha. I feel much better now, thanks to you all. I’d been waiting for an opportunity like this for over ten years… Although, it looks like I’ve fallen out of this one’s good graces,” he said, tapping the empty holder at his waist.
The Lei-Glems, it seemed, had turned its back on him.
“You’ve really put us all in a bind now,” Laetitia said, raising her hands to her head. “How could someone with the title of Pendragon, and not to mention the student council president of Saint Gallardworth Academy, do something like that…?”
Certainly, for someone as supposedly perfect as Ernest to have that level of savagery be exposed so publicly, it was inevitable that he would take a significant hit to his image, not to mention cause a massive headache for the student council.
“That’s where the support of the vice president matters most, right?” Claudia broke in. “Everyone’s counting on you, Laetitia!”
“What?! Don’t start meddling in other people’s affairs…! And just so you know, we might have lost as a team, but it was Ernest you defeated this time, not me!”
“…That’s rather harsh.” Ernest grimaced.
Laetitia, however, didn’t even spare him a glance as she thrust a finger toward Claudia. “As far as team combat goes, this just means we’ve got one win and one loss each! So the real champion is whoever wins the next one!”
“Yes, yes, if you say so… I have a debt to settle with you as well,” Claudia responded with a smile.
“I’m the one who was utterly defeated. Ayato Amagiri, that technique of yours is amazing,” Lionel said as he gripped his hand firmly in his own.
“N-not at all…”
“Well, it was you, Leo, who got your crest broken.” Kevin, standing beside him, grinned. “It wasn’t like I was beaten or anything.”
“You’re as modest as ever, I see.”
“Come on, Leo. There’s no need to take your anger out on me.”
Kevin and Lionel all but butted heads as they glowered at each other.
“…It looks like you all get along well,” Julis murmured, a touch of surprise in her voice.
“Of course. There’s always more than one side to someone.”
“I suppose that is more persuasive when you say it, Ernest.”
“…The same goes for you, too, Claudia,” Ayato remarked.
“Well, at any rate, Percival aside, the rest of us are all going to retire from this kind of thing,” Ernest said. “I’m glad you were our last match.”
“Percival’s around your age, so maybe you’ll face her again one day. You’d better be ready for it,” Laetitia added boastfully, placing a hand on the shoulder of her silent companion.
“…Not at all,” Percival replied expressionlessly.
“Well then, I suppose we’re going to have a lot of free time from now on. We might have ret
ired, but maybe we’ll see one another again one day? In fact, I’ll be looking forward to it,” Ernest said, calm and invigorated to the last.
With that, Team Lancelot made their departure.
“…There’s something dangerous about that one,” Saya murmured faintly.
Ayato, who had assumed that she was sleeping on her feet, turned to her in surprise. “Huh? That one? You mean Percival Gardner?”
“Right. She’s the only one I couldn’t properly gauge.”
Saya’s tone was unusually grave, but now that she mentioned it, she was the one who spent the most time engaging her as an opponent, so if anyone could have made that observation, it was her.
“Come now, we had better make our way to the hospital before worrying about things like that,” Claudia said brightly, clapping her hands together as if to change the subject. “Ayato and Julis need proper treatment, and it’s about time we reported everything to Kirin properly.”
“Ah, right. I’m still a bit worried about her condition,” Ayato replied.
“If she sees you like that, she’ll be the one who’ll worry, though,” Julis remarked.
There was no arguing with that.
“Hmm…” Saya sighed. “Well then, let’s go. She must be waiting for us,” she said, flashing them all a weak smile as if to change the mood.
“At this hour, it will be faster to take the airship, I should think. It won’t take long to get ready,” Claudia added as she fumbled through her pocket, when all at once, not her own, but Ayato’s, mobile began to ring.
As he glanced at the name on the display, his expression suddenly stiffened.
“Huh…? D-Dad?”
AFTERWORD
Hi there, Yuu Miyazaki here.
With this tenth volume, The Asterisk War has finally reached double digits! I’ve got lots of announcements to share with you, but I want to keep the afterword to two pages this time, so I’ll be brief!
To begin, with this volume, the second arc of the story, which focused on the Gryps, is complete. It’s fully loaded with two full-team battles and probably has the largest cast of any volume so far. The team battles may be over now, but everyone we’ve come to know from Team Yellow Dragon and Team Lancelot still have roles to play, so their fans can rest easy! Incidentally, my favorite part of writing this one had to be Xinglou’s and Xiaohui’s backstory.