CHAPTER 1

EVE OF THE OPENING BATTLE

“Um, you’re Ayato Amagiri, the Murakumo, aren’t you?”

A chestnut-haired girl approached Ayato as he was eating lunch in the Hokuto dining hall. She had a broad smile and a lively look.

“…Huh?”

“Can I get your autograph?” she asked, thrusting a pen and a card at him.

“Oh. Sure, I guess so.”

Her forwardness caught him off guard, but he signed the card. Of course, he had no special stylized signature, so he settled for neatly printing his name. These requests had bewildered him at first, but he was beginning to get used to it.

“Oh, thank you so much! Good luck with the Phoenix! I’m rooting for you!” The girl walked away with the autograph, waving broadly.

Ayato chuckled awkwardly and forced himself to smile until she left—then whirled around at a cold feeling behind him.

Julis and Saya stared sternly across the table at him.

“Um… Is something wrong?”

“Oh, nothing,” Julis said. “I was just thinking how hard all that popularity must be on you.”

“You’re too friendly, Ayato,” Saya added. “I worry sometimes.”

“Y-you think so…?”

The weight of their disapproval was bearing down heavily on him. Ayato awkwardly rubbed his head.

A week had passed since Ayato had won his duel against Kirin to become the top-ranked fighter at Seidoukan Academy. Requests like these were quite common now—not to mention letters and gifts from fans, interviews with the media, all sorts of offers from corporations, and even anonymous threats and harassment. It seemed like anything was permitted.

Fortunately for him, the school had its own department to handle these things, and he had left everything to them. But when people like the girl from before reached out to him directly, he had no choice but to deal with it.

“Come on, you two. No need to get so upset at every little thing. An unlisted unknown rose to the top out of nowhere, after all. Of course he’s gonna get some attention,” Eishirou said with a lackadaisical grin and slurped up his soba noodles.

There was almost no precedent in the history of Seidoukan Academy of an unlisted fighter taking top rank. The rules for official matches made it all but impossible.

For the monthly standoffs, students were separated into three tiers. The first tier consisted of the highest ranks, otherwise known as Page One; the second of lower-ranked fighters, dubbed the Named Cult; and at the bottom of the heap were the unranked—the “unlisted.”

Although a ranked combatant was not permitted to refuse a challenge from a lower-ranked one, fighters could only challenge up to one tier above. In other words, to challenge a Page One, being in the Named Cult was a prerequisite. The only way for an unlisted to leap to Page One was by winning in an ordinary duel. Those at the top, however, tended to be the most cautious about engaging in duels. This was only natural, considering how much they had to lose.

“That’s true,” Kirin said, agreeing with Eishirou. “I was lucky to jump up to Page One by winning a duel myself—and even then I only took eleventh place. Maybe it sounds odd for me to say, but Ayato shooting all the way to first place is much more dramatic.”

She sat next to Saya, slurping up udon noodles. Kirin had been the reigning champion until just a week ago, but she did not miss her title in the least.

In Seidoukan’s ranking system, the winner and loser switched standings, making Kirin now unlisted. But she was in the so-called “grace period,” a provision designed to soften the blow of dropping suddenly in the rankings. During the grace period, students were guaranteed the same privileges that their prior rank had afforded them. In addition, in the first official match following their loss, they were allowed to challenge any student below their former rank.

“As I recall, Princess, there was a similar fuss when you made Page One,” Eishirou teased.

“Perhaps, but this sort of thing is temporary,” replied Julis in all seriousness. “It didn’t last nearly as long for me.”

“Well, sure. You gave the royal cold shoulder to absolutely everyone. Of course things cooled off fast.”

“Unfortunately for them, it just isn’t in me to indulge that kind of behavior. I’m happy people support me, but I have no interest in letting others use me for their own gain. Personally, I think refusing all the attention was the most honest way to handle it. See?” Julis took out her mobile device to open an air-window.

“A Net auction…? Wh—Hey!” Ayato exclaimed at the rows of all his autographs. He wasn’t sure how to feel about the exorbitant price tags.

For a moneymaking scheme, it wasn’t particularly sophisticated—but still, it came as a bit of a shock.

“That’s a pretty popular way for students to make a quick buck. Happens all the time,” Eishirou said from behind Ayato, consoling him with a pat on the shoulder.

“Yeah, don’t mind them,” Saya added. “You have fans who are cheering you on, for real. Like me.”

“Th-that’s right!” Kirin chimed in. “You have some supporters in my class. And me, too…”

Julis grinned boldly. “Hmm. You say that now, but what if you get matched against us in the Phoenix?”

“Oh yeah! You two got registered, right?” Ayato said.

Kirin had agreed to Saya’s suggestion that they sign up together as a reserve for the Phoenix, which had come as a surprise to Ayato. Regardless, another team had withdrawn from the competition yesterday, and now they were officially enrolled.

“…Obviously, we’ll give it all we’ve got,” Saya replied.

“Yes. My feelings exactly,” Kirin said. “The Phoenix is a different matter altogether.”

The pair responded with piercing eye contact.

Julis chuckled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“To be honest, though, I’d rather not have to fight you two,” Ayato remarked.

Ayato and Julis had been training almost daily for the tag matches with Saya and Kirin. Their record was only about half and half during their regulated scrimmages.

Saya and Kirin were so well synced with each other that it was hard to believe they had only just recently teamed up. They would make formidable opponents in the tournament.

“You all seem to be in high spirits. That’s good,” Claudia said with a soft laugh, smiling serenely as ever.

“We haven’t seen you in days, Claudia,” Julis said. “You must be terribly busy.”

“Oh, yes. The work for the Festa just keeps piling up.” Claudia opened an enormous air-window above the table. “But the bracket for the Phoenix was just announced, and I thought I would come let you know.”

All eyes turned to the display. Lines extended from the throng of names to form a towering bracket resembling a giant castle.

“Whoa… That’s a ton of people,” Ayato said.

There were 512 contestants, or 256 teams, registered for the Phoenix. Ayato knew the numbers, but the mass of names before his eyes was intimidating.

“Um, let’s see, we’re… Oh, there we are! Block L!” Kirin said.

“Hmm, and we are…Block C,” Julis said. “It looks like we won’t have to square off until the main tournament.”

The two shared a relieved smile.

The Phoenix was held over roughly two weeks. The first half, popularly known as the preliminary rounds, decided the top thirty-two teams. These rounds formed the massive bracket in front of Ayato and his friends. Later, a lottery would sort those thirty-two pairs into a new bracket. This latter half was considered the main tournament, where the competitors could earn points for their respective schools.

“Did you really come here just to show us this, Claudia?” Ayato wondered.

Claudia had just mentioned she was quite busy. While it was true that the announcement of the Festa bracket did not occur at a predetermined date and time, Ayato and his friends would have seen it soon enough. There was no need for her to deliver the information personally.

“Well, you are among the favorites, after all,” she replied. “I wanted you to have every possible moment to prepare.”

“Favorites? Oh, we can’t really be…” Ayato flailed in denial.

Exasperated, Eishirou flicked him in the middle of the forehead. “You doofus. One of these teams has the current top-ranked student, and the other’s got the former number one. How could you be anything but?”

“I agree. Ayato and Miss Toudou are too modest, I think. You could stand to have a little more confidence. You represent our school, after all.”

“Uh, okay…”

“We’ll try, but…”

Ayato and Kirin slumped and stared at the floor.

“There aren’t many standouts in this tournament. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if one of you really did win.” Eishirou spoke nonchalantly enough, but he was not the sort to dole out flattery lightly. “The field doesn’t appear to have any surprises. No big shots out of nowhere or anything.”

Of course, none of the schools announced their Festa contestants ahead of time. But information had a way of getting around, and much of the roster would end up matching public expectations.

“And luckily for you, unlike the last Gryps or the Lindvolus, there are no glaringly invincible names,” Claudia said.

“Invincible?” Ayato cocked his head.

“She probably means the Silverwinged Knights from Gallardworth for the Gryps, and the Witch of Solitary Venom from Le Wolfe for the Lindvolus.” Julis shrugged disinterestedly.

“Indeed,” Claudia went on, “those contestants won their respective Festa events by an overwhelming margin, even more than their reputations suggested. For this event, however, things seem to be just the opposite—anything could happen. Well, I suppose the Page One fighters from each school do have better odds…”

“Apparently the pair that won the last Phoenix graduated,” Eishirou said. “They aren’t in it this year. And I hear that the Jie Long team that came in second has their sights set on the Gryps.”

The depth and breadth of their knowledge was impressive. As Ayato listened with rapt attention, Claudia clapped her hands together and looked around the table.

“Regardless, I cannot overstate the strategic importance of this Phoenix tournament for the current season. It’s no exaggeration to say that the success of our school rests on your shoulders. I’m counting on you all.”

Among the six schools of Asterisk, several excelled in Festa events. St. Gallardworth was superior in the team battle Gryps, the Le Wolfe Black Institute fared well in the one-on-one format of the Lindvolus, and Seidoukan Academy shone in the tag team battles of the Phoenix. These trends were obvious from each school’s track record in its respective event.

For Seidoukan, doing well in the Phoenix was a prerequisite for placing high overall.

Jie Long Seventh Institute was strong in a variety of events, lacking a particular forte but maintaining high scores in each competition. The performance of Allekant Académie was highly variable, with their favored tournament changing from season to season, whereas the Queenvale Academy for Young Ladies consistently failed to do well in any tournament.

“I have a question.” Saya, who had been quietly sipping orange juice through a straw, sharply raised her hand.

“Yes, Miss Sasamiya?” Naturally, Claudia responded like a teacher to Saya’s very student-like query.

“Who are the favorites from the other schools?”

“That is a good question. Although, Miss Sasamiya, am I correct in assuming that you’re only interested in the two ladies from Allekant?”

Saya’s eyebrow twitched slightly. She seemed eager to settle the score with Camilla, the Allekant student who had visited Seidoukan earlier.

“Those two are…here. Block H.” Julis quickly spotted their names in the bracket. Their placement meant that neither Ayato’s team nor Saya’s would face them until the main tournament.

“Regarding those two, there should be an announcement from the tournament Executive Committee,” Claudia said.” There’s nothing I can tell you myself.”

“Oh?” Eishirou’s eyes lit up at this cryptic remark. “Does that mean they’re another exception?”

Claudia only giggled in response.

“‘Another’?” Ayato found Eishirou’s wording curious.

“The committee is always changing the Festa regulations, or making and deleting exceptions to the rules,” Eishirou happily explained. “They say they’re trying new things, you know, but they’re just inconsistent. It’s unheard of for research students to participate in the Festa, so there must be some—”

“The Executive Committee’s top priority is to make the Festa as entertaining as possible,” Claudia interrupted. “To that end, they will try all sorts of new things, and stop doing anything they consider unprofitable. That’s all there is to it.”

That brought the subject to a close.

“Hmph,” Saya grunted, clearly dissatisfied, but did not pursue the matter. That was that, clearly.

“Um, then, do you have any information on other popular contestants…?” Kirin asked.

“Oh, I do, Miss Toudou. Please give me a moment.” With a kind smile, Claudia entered something in her mobile device, and a moment later the others received a message. “I just sent you the relevant data. I hope it helps in your preparations.”

“Wow, this will help,” Ayato said.

He’d immediately opened the files to find information on dozens of students, complete with photos. Included were their physical traits like height and weight, as well as their records, weapons of choice and, where applicable, Orga Luxes and special abilities. There were even some video recordings of past duels.

“Oh, this is nothing. This is standard procedure for all the schools. I’m sure the others are poring over your data as we speak.”

“Yup! They say that reliable and thorough data reflects the intelligence-gathering of each school,” Eishirou chimed in playfully, although he was the only one present who had not received the files.

“Oh, I remember my uncle saying that Le Wolfe and Queenvale were especially good at this sort of thing,” Kirin said.

“Well, we just have to be ready,” Julis said as she browsed the data. She suddenly stopped on one entry and sighed. “…Ugh, I should have known. She’ll be trouble.”

“Trouble?” Ayato walked behind Julis and peeked at the air-window by her hand.

“This girl uses the Orga Lux Gravisheath,” she explained. “I don’t know what Allekant has up their sleeve, but aside from them, the most dangerous contestant in this tournament is probably her.”

“Her name is…Irene Urzaiz,” Ayato read, by the picture of a female student with a razor’s edge glare and a dauntless smile.

The central school building of the Le Wolfe Black Institute could be most succinctly described with the word fortress. It was rough and imposing, an enormous mass of metal built to project power and oppressive might.

Contrary to popular opinion, there was no sense of lawless degeneracy here. Because it was often seen as the polar opposite of St. Gallardworth, the school of discipline and order—and perhaps also because of the delinquent students and the redevelopment area they used as their base—many thought of Le Wolfe as some terribly dilapidated place. The actual situation was somewhat different.

It was true that rules were all but nonexistent in Le Wolfe, and that outsiders called it a den of mavericks. There was one imperative here, however, which always stood true: absolute submission to the strong.

In LeWolfe, power was everything, and victory was respected above all else. This value system served to temper the actions of the students. A total lack of inhibitions risked drawing the ire of someone stronger.

Another common stereotype was that LeWolfe students were all no better than a pack of violent and dangerous animals.

That, too, was a grave misunderstanding. Such a statement described only some eighty or ninety percent of the student body. Even the most conservative estimate suggested that at least ten percent of Le Wolfe aspired to complete their studies responsibly.

Korona Kashimaru, who was among that ten percent, often had the urge to shout as much at the top of her lungs. All the time, in fact, but she had never once acted on it.

“The hell are you doing, Korona? Catch up.”

“Oh, s-sorry! Coming!”

She hurriedly trotted up to the male student walking ahead of her.

The boy who had scolded her was Dirk Eberwein, the first non-Genestella in the history of the Le Wolfe Black Institute to reach the rank of student council president.

There was a tendency to cast fighters from Le Wolfe as the bad guys in the Festa, so they were not well-liked; but the most hated, the most utterly despised student at the entire Institute was none other than Dirk.

Without ever dirtying his hands, he manipulated others like pieces on a chess board to advance his plots from the shadows—or such was his reputation, which could not be any nastier. More evidence of his unpopularity lay in how other students had labeled him the Devious King, although he was not even a ranked fighter.

Still, Korona did not think that Dirk was such a terrible person.

It was true that he had a foul mouth and a worse attitude. He was perpetually in a bad mood, and she had never seen him let the corners of his mouth soften, let alone smile. Still, Korona was indebted to him. If he was the kind of person everyone said he was, would he have bothered to take her on as his secretary? She, a talentless, airheaded girl who had entered Le Wolfe purely due to a mix-up?

Without Dirk’s protection, a helpless student like her would have wound up long ago in the lowest caste of the school, destined for nothing but exploitation.

I can’t say he’s a good person, based on the things he does. Still, I don’t think he’s as bad as everyone says he is…

Perhaps aware of Korona’s thoughts, or perhaps not, somehow Dirk walked through the dank, dreary hallway without a word. They were in a high-security area where ordinary students were not allowed to enter.

Huh? Wait, this is the way to—

The color drained from her face.

“Um, Mr. President…? Are we going…to the…?”

“What? We’re going to the penalty rooms, obviously.”

“We really are?!”

The penalty rooms were a dungeon-like space where students were punished for their extreme transgressions. It housed a collection of the worst and most violent students of Le Wolfe, where an unremarkable citizen like Korona had no reason to set foot—and she would be quite happy to keep it that way.

But Dirk passed through one security measure after another into the inner sanctum. On either side of the narrow passageway were thick walls, as if to separate rooms, but there were solely number plates with no visible doors. At the entrance, a guard had offered to accompany them only to receive a peevish refusal from Dirk. Korona had never been so frightened.

Yells and jeers and banging on walls clamoring through the passageway just added to her apprehension. A squeaky whimper escaped her.

Dirk was shorter than she was, and Korona did her best to hide behind him as she followed. Despite being a Genestella, she was terrified, but Dirk, an ordinary human, did not seem bothered in the least.

Finally, he stopped at a certain room.

He raised his hand to the marker to bring up a console. After he punched in a pass code, the wall facing the passageway faded, then disappeared. Since the number plate itself remained suspended in midair, Korona gathered that the wall was still there, but some mechanism had made it transparent.

“Hey, you crazy broad. You alive in there?”

When Dirk called into the space, some sixty square feet, Korona could sense movement. The room had no light, and she could only vaguely see what was inside, but she made out a figure sitting against the far wall.

“I was wondering who’d visit me, and it’s you? What the hell brought you all the way down here?” The manner of speech was as uncouth as Dirk’s, but the voice was higher in pitch—a female student.

Straining her eyes, Korona was finally able to make out the figure in the dungeon.

Her hands chained to the wall, she sat in her uniform with her legs unabashedly open. She wore a long scarf wrapped around her neck, although it was summer, and the lack of a shirt beneath her jacket completed the mismatched look.

While Korona stared curiously at the girl’s unusual attire, she received a sharp glare from angular, wolfish eyes. Intimidated, she fell back a step.

“I’ve got a little favor to ask you,” Dirk said.

“Ha!” the girl scoffed loudly. “A favor? An order, you mean. If you tell me to do something I can’t exactly refuse.”

“If you’ll do it, I can let you out right now.”

“Hold up, you didn’t even bring me anything? I’m starvin’ to death over here. Although, maybe that little girl right there would do.”

“Eep!” Korona ran behind Dirk and made herself even smaller.

“Well? You wanna take the offer or not?” Dirk asked, ignoring the other student’s jeer.

“Yeah, fine… So? What d’you want me to do?”

“It’s nothing much. I want you to crush a Seidoukan brat. Make it so he never fights again. A duel would work fine, but the Phoenix happens to be coming up. You’ll fight him there. Korona, you took care of her registration?”

“Huh? Oh—Yes!” The sudden attention startled her, but she nodded emphatically.

She remembered filling out some registration paperwork at Dirk’s request earlier. Now she understood what it was for. It had never crossed her mind that he hadn’t spoken to the contestant first.

“You want me to fight in the Phoenix?”

“He could decline a duel, but not a Festa match,” Dirk said, then leaned in. “You should be able to get to the main tournament easily. He should, too. You’ll match up against each other sooner or later. Crush him. You don’t need to win.” The last sentence resonated like a voice from the depths of an abyss.

A chill ran down Korona’s spine.

“…But, hey, if you can win it all, then go ahead and do that, too.”

“You say it like it’s so damn easy,” the girl complained, but her shoulders shook with laughter. It made her chains jangle. “I got a few questions, though.”

“Shoot.”

“First off. If you’re after this kid, why not use the Cats? Why’d you come to me?”

“Because you’re the best choice for the Festa. Besides, the Cats are busy—both Silver Eyes and Gold Eyes. And using them would cost me.”

“Is that it?”

“The guy’s also number one at Seidoukan. If I use the Cats and they trace it back to me, there might be trouble. I want something as close to legitimate as possible for this job.”

The girl cackled. “Seidoukan’s top ranked? Are you shitting me? That’s who you want me to fight?”

“Would I ask you if I didn’t think you could pull it off?”

The girl bowed her head quietly in thought, then raised it again. “Okay, second question. Why are you after this kid?”

The question caught Dirk off guard, or so his tongue click suggested. He had a habit of making the sound when he was annoyed. “I’m not obligated to tell you that… Whatever. You ever heard of the Ser Veresta?”

“Huh? What the hell’s that?”

“Seidoukan’s Orga Lux. He isn’t using it to its full potential yet, but if I leave him alone he could cause problems later. That’s why I want to crush him now.”

“Heh—an Orga Lux, huh? Must be some weapon if you’re afraid of it.”

“…Anyone who saw that thing firsthand would be,” Dirk spat under his breath. He seemed to be convincing himself rather than the girl.

“Fine. Last question—Well, more like I wanna double-check.” She fixed a penetrating gaze on him. “You haven’t let anyone touch her, have you?”

“’Course not. I always honor my contracts, you know that.” Dirk nodded, completely unaffected. Korona, on the other hand, wanted to flinch just standing near the intense exchange.

Dirk and the detainee stared each other down until the latter turned away.

“Well, it’s no fun being stuck in a place like this just for making a little scene at a casino. I’ll take the job, Dirk Eberwein.”

“Took you long enough, Urzaiz,” Dirk grumbled, looking bored, then entered another sequence into the optical keyboard.

The chains released with a clang, and Irene stood up and let out a good yawn. “Ahh… Finally,” she murmured, loudly cracking her shoulders.

She was quite tall, and her lithe and well-proportioned body called to mind a carnivorous animal.

“Now, first things first. I gotta get me something to eat.” Irene’s devilish grin revealed two long, sharp fangs.