by Yuu Miyazaki
What was more, due to the fact that Allekant’s media organizations were less developed than the other schools’, they had entrusted every aspect of the publicity and advertising to Seidoukan—which then went so far as to nominate the winner of the Phoenix as an entrant.
And then, on the very day of the event, Ernest Fairclough and Sylvia Lyyneheym had been allowed to participate, proving once and for all that it had now spun entirely out of his control.
But while everything had happened contrary to his expectations, Narcisse had still thought he had a chance of coming out on top.
Even the likes of Ayato Amagiri and Ernest Fairclough wouldn’t be able to do anything if their weapons didn’t work, he had reasoned. Which was why he had made sure that the output of their Luxes had been set so that, even if they were to use Meteor Arts, they would have no hope of penetrating the armoring that protected his powered suits.
Given that Stregas and Dantes were meant to have been barred from participating, the fact that Sylvia had been allowed to enter made his blood run cold—but even that shouldn’t have been a problem so long as she wasn’t allowed to use her abilities. Rather, if his creations could hold a number one in check—even if she was fighting with a handicap—that would make for the best kind of demonstration. At least that had been the plan.
But now…
“It must be such a shame, Mister Manager, watching your much-vaunted toys get beaten around like that.”
“It… It wasn’t supposed to be like this! My powered suits are far superior to Ernesta’s Puppets…! Far superior…!”
Indeed, his powered suits, armed with every resource at his disposal and driven by real humans, ought to have been far superior to that absurd attempt to grant self-awareness to lifeless dolls.
It had been a mistake for Ferrovius—no, for Camilla—to team up with Pygmalion. All he had to do was prove he was the better researcher, and he would be made the faction’s next president. He was sure of it. That was how it had been supposed to play out.
“All you think about are numbers. You’ll never understand. But it’s no concern of mine. Don’t let me drag you from your ivory tower.” Xinglou jumped down from her chair and headed toward the door.
“Wh-where are you going…?”
“The third phase is mine. I’m going to find a closer vantage point.” Her voice was filled with the unbridled excitement of a child.
“W-wait…! Give me one more chance! We still have more suits. If we use them in the third phase—” Narcisse only got so far before his mouth seemed to freeze in place.
“…Think before you open your mouth, fool. Give you a chance, you say?”
“—!”
The overpowering aura rising out of Xinglou left Narcisse petrified, unable to move so much as a finger. Fear so strong that it seemed to be clenching his heart in a fist had taken hold of him. He couldn’t breathe, let alone muster his voice to respond.
But then—
“From where I’m standing, you both look like fools.”
A voice suddenly echoed down the corridor, and a woman who Narcisse had never seen before strode into the room.
Her hooded robe hid her figure and eyes to such an extent that he could identify her as a woman only from her voice. The special viewing room was supposed to be restricted to VIPs only, so she shouldn’t have been able to enter without passing the guards, who couldn’t possibly have let such a suspicious character through without contacting him first. Realizing what that meant only added fuel to his already panicked state.
“Hmm… And you are?” Xinglou, glancing toward their intruder with a quizzical expression, didn’t seem to have any idea who she was, either.
The woman let out a small sigh before removing her robe.
She looked to be in her midtwenties. She was beautiful, with well-defined features; her plain clothing coiled around her like a simple drape of cloth, emphasizing the contours of her body.
“Mm… No, I don’t believe we’ve met.” Xinglou, her head tilted to the side, stared at the woman’s face—before her gaze fell to the woman’s chest. “Oh! I see. That’s a lovely body you’ve taken for yourself.”
“That should be my line.”
Narcisse had no idea what the two of them were talking about. Following Xinglou’s gaze, his attention was drawn to a disproportionately large necklace around the woman’s neck. It was no normal necklace—looking instead like some kind of machine, with a huge gemstone set in the center like the eye of a monster.
“So, what brings you all the way out here?” Xinglou asked, her arms crossed.
Instead of answering, the woman headed straight across the room, all the way to the huge window overlooking the stage. “…You don’t normally make public appearances, so I thought I would try to invite you to join us again.”
“No matter how many times you ask, my answer will be the same.”
“You understand that working with us will be the fastest way to reach you goal, don’t you? At the very least, it will be much easier than what you’re doing now.” The woman all but spat the words out as she stared down at the stage.
The third phase would no doubt be getting under way.
“I understand what you’re saying, but I’m enjoying training my new material. Besides—as I’ve said before—I enjoy fighting, but I’m sick of conflict.”
“…I see. Then it can’t be helped. But remember this. If you make yourself into our enemy, we will show you no mercy,” the woman said impassively.
No sooner had she finished talking than the gemstone set in the necklace began to blaze with black light.
No, that isn’t a gemstone… It can’t be…
“Oh-ho. Is that a threat?”
“It’s a warning. I, at least, am willing to show you some respect.”
Xinglou chuckled quietly. “Heh-heh. I’m very grateful.”
“…” The woman sighed once more, before slipping back into her robe.
Narcisse then made two mistakes.
The first was when, unable to keep his curiosity in check, he called out to the woman.
“Um, h-hold on a minute…!”
The second was realizing what the necklace actually was.
Both tragedies stemmed, no doubt, from his being a researcher.
“That… The stone in your necklace, it’s urm-manadite, isn’t it? That must mean that it’s an…an Orga Lux…right?”
Orga Luxes, as the name suggested, were supposed to be weapons. He had neither seen nor heard of one being used as an accessory.
“What is it…?” Narcisse half murmured.
The woman, on the verge of leaving the room, came to a halt. “Well, now… If curiosity hasn’t killed the cat…”
Xinglou’s eyes, as she turned toward Narcisse, were filled with pity.
“…”
As the woman turned around, Narcisse thought for a moment that the necklace’s urm-manadite had begun to glow again with that eerie, black light—when he suddenly lost consciousness.
CHAPTER 7
LADISLAV’S YOUNGEST CHILD
“It’s finally time for the third phase, the climax of the Gran Colosseo! To satisfy the conditions of this final phase, our remaining contestants will have to defeat the Jie Long Seventh Institute’s two proud guardians within the time limit! And that’s not all! This time around, contestants won’t be disqualified no matter how many hits they receive!”
“…That must mean they’re not planning to hold back, I guess,” Ayato murmured.
“Well, it’ll be the real thing this time, seeing as the princess has had a hand in organizing it.” Ernest nodded in agreement.
Ayato, Ernest, Sylvia, Hufeng, and Irene were the only contestants who had made it through.
Among them, Hufeng alone was, for some reason, wearing a sour face, seemingly deep in thought.
“What is it, Zhao?” Sylvia called out to him.
“…Sorry. I’ve just got a bad feeling about this…,” Hufeng answere
d, his expression unchanging.
“Now then, let’s welcome Jie Long’s guardians to the stage!”
With Eishirou’s announcement, a huge hole opened up in the center of the stage, a powerful machine lifting something up to the surface.
“…So it is Baiqin and Heihu…” Hufeng, face pressed in his hands, sighed, his voice filled at once with both shock and despair.
Two giants, black and white, rose up to the stage. They didn’t look at all like Puppets or powered suits, being more akin to handcrafted wooden statues. Their faces were simple masks, with gaping cavities for eyes, their arms disproportionately thick for their bodies, and so long that their fists could almost touch the ground.
The guardians were considerably larger than the powered suits they had all fought in the second phase. The white giant was gripping a huge sword, the black one a gigantic spear. Their bodies were both covered in strange painted patterns.
“All right, kid, it’s about time you started talking,” Irene called out to Hufeng. “What the hell are those things?”
“Kid…?” Hufeng frowned in annoyance for a short moment, before quickly turning his attention back to the two guardians. “The white one there is called Baiqin, and the black one Heihu. They’re sengu left behind by the first Ban’yuu Tenra. I guess you could call them wardens of the Hall of the Yellow Dragon.”
“Sengu?”
“Historically, every Ban’yuu Tenra has excelled in pyrotechnics. They’ve each created many different weapons among them. We call them sengu, or sage tools… But they aren’t supposed to be taken outside of Jie Long.” Hufeng, it seemed, was at a loss to explain exactly why they had been.
“What the hell does all that matter? Are they strong?”
“…They wouldn’t be wardens if they weren’t, right?”
No sooner had Hufeng finished talking than Eishirou’s voice resounded throughout the stadium. “Phase Three—begin!”
But even with the opening of the match, Baiqin and Heihu remained motionless, frozen in their battle postures.
Ayato held out his Lux, pointing it toward the guardians as he tried to get a sense of his opponents, but the two statue-like figures remained unfathomable.
They were neither machines nor living creatures, and they were different again from the magical beasts that Gustave Malraux had summoned to fight against them in Lieseltania. They were something new, something unknown that Ayato had never before encountered.
“Tch, that’s not going to do anything.”
Irene, her temper flaring, stepped forward, when—
“Wha—?!”
Heihu moved like a sudden burst of wind to shorten the distance between them, mowing her down with its spear.
Irene quickly crouched down to dodge the attack, but Heihu rotated the direction of its swing, driving the spear into her stomach.
“Argh!”
Irene, thrown all the way across the stage by the force of the strike, crashed into the defensive barrier protecting the spectators before falling to the ground in a heap.
“Irene!” Ayato called out in panic.
“D-damn it…! Looks like I let my guard down…,” she sputtered, rising to her feet unsteadily as a trickle of blood began to drip from the corner of her mouth.
She seemed somehow to not be too much the worse for wear, but there was no way she’d be able to jump straight back into the contest.
The guardian’s strength, capable of disabling Irene with a single blow, and its speed besides were of course a problem, but for Ayato, what was most troubling of all was that he couldn’t sense their presence.
“This isn’t funny… How can it move that fast without my being able to sense it…?”
Ayato had turned his attention to Irene for only a split second, but it was enough of an opening for Baiqin to appear behind him, swinging its sword downward to where he was standing.
“Ugh…”
He parried the attack before leaping under the guardian’s outstretched arm.
He lunged out with his own weapon as he passed underneath it, but while his opponent looked to be made of wood, it must have been of extraordinary construction, as his attack seemed to have left no damage whatsoever.
Baiqin turned its face toward him, preparing itself to launch another attack, when—
Hufeng sprang toward it, driving a powerful kick into its flank and throwing it across the stage.
He leaped after the fallen guardian in pursuit, landing atop its torso and delivering a flurry of punches and a final spinning kick into its abdomen, before jumping to safety.
His speed was unbelievable. Even Ayato had barely been able to catch it. To any ordinary person, it must have looked as if he had simply teleported across the stage.
He must be using his prana to accelerate his attacks…!
Ayato had noticed that Hufeng was always directing his prana into his legs.
Prana could be used to increase one’s defensive and offensive abilities, but there was no theoretical reason why it shouldn’t be able to increase one’s speed, too.
However, increasing one’s speed was by far the most difficult of the three. All it took was the slightest mistake and one would lose control of their body. Leaving aside recklessly jumping away from attacks, extraordinary proficiency was necessary to use it in a battle that required accurate movements.
Sylvia, dodging an attack by Heihu, leaped back, landing next to Ayato. “Oh, looks like he’s fast,” she remarked, staring after Hufeng.
“It must be like threading a needle, having that kind of control over one’s prana…,” Ayato replied, struck with admiration.
It also happened to be the area in which he needed the most improvement himself.
“It looks like the acceleration also adds to his strength. It’s almost frightening.”
“…It still doesn’t look like he’s dealing much damage, though.”
Hufeng was overwhelming Baiqin with his speed and sheer number of punches, but he didn’t seem to be delivering anywhere near enough damage to defeat it.
As Sylvia had said, every single one of those strikes ought to have been sufficiently destructive by themselves, but none of the remaining contestants had any idea what the two guardians were made from.
“We’d better take these things seriously…” Sylvia chuckled. “But not being allowed to sing is so annoying!”
For most Stregas and Dantes, not being able to use their abilities could be fatal.
The fact that Sylvia was still able to pull her weight despite being the only Strega in the competition was proof enough that she wasn’t reliant on her abilities, possessing potent combat skills and training as well.
“But there’s no point asking for the impossible. I’ll just have to make do with what I’ve got,” Sylvia said, holding her glowing Lux in the air.
“Meteor Arts? With a Lux that you’ve just started using…? That’s impressive.”
“If I’m going to be number one, I have to be able to at least do this much,” Sylvia responded airily.
To Ayato, however, it would have been an impossible feat.
“Well now, Ayato. Shall we?”
“After you.”
Sylvia gave him a cute wink in lieu of a reply, before leaping to parry Heihu’s spear.
“Thanks for coming,” Ernest, who until that moment had been fighting the guardian alone, noted calmly. He looked to have only been defending himself against the giant’s attacks, without attempting to land one of his own. His face was unmarred by so much as a single bead of sweat.
“Are you only here to watch, Pendragon? If you’re not going to fight properly, you might as well scurry off home.”
“I can’t do that. The Lei-Glems would desert me if I turned my back on a woman in need.” Ernest, his voiced troubled, raised his sword as if to strike, but Ayato was a step faster, rushing in from behind.
“Oh.”
“Amagiri Shinmei Style Grappling Technique: Stance Breaker!”
&nb
sp; Ayato slipped under Heihu’s reach, throwing it off-balance by aiming for the spear pushing against Sylvia’s blade. Then he delivered a sideways kick with all his strength upon its leg.
No matter how large one’s opponent was, defeating them was easy so long as you could throw them off-balance.
Shaking violently, Heihu collapsed forward, and Sylvia’s sword flashed as she struck at the staggered giant.
“Ugh, this thing’s really tough!” Sylvia grunted.
But Ayato didn’t pause to respond, running behind the guardian and swinging his own blade in a straight stroke. The attack, however, still wasn’t strong enough.
“How about this, then?”
Ayato raised his head in surprise at the sound of the voice to see that Ernest had thrust his sword into the cavity in Heihu’s face, all the way down to the hilt.
His blade was glowing just like Sylvia’s—he, too, was using Meteor Arts.
It looked like Sylvia hadn’t been joking, Ayato mused.
“Wonderful, absolutely wonderful! A coordinated attack by three number ones! Just look at that explosive force!”
“Hey, what do you think you’re doing, taking the best part for yourself?” Sylvia called out.
Ernest, however, had begun to back away from the giant figure, his expression grave.
“…It didn’t work.”
“What…?”
“Ladies and gentlemen, look! Even that wasn’t enough to stop our guardian! What hardiness! What strength!”
Heihu sluggishly pulled itself upright, hefting its spear as if it hadn’t suffered even the slightest injury.
“I thought its eyes were its weak point. I don’t know what’s inside that thing, but it seemed to suck my blade right in. There wasn’t even any resistance.”