CHAPTER 3

THE SEMIFINALS: MATCH TWO

“…Nngh…ah…”

Flora woke with a groan, and the first thing she saw was her own shadow under the lamplight.

Dazed, she looked up to see several dim lights hanging from the ceiling. She was indoors, in a large room. The floor and walls were damaged to reveal the layers underneath, but the building itself didn’t appear very old.

“Don’t make a fuss.”

The voice was dark and cold, as if echoing up from the depths of the earth. Fear took hold of Flora like a block of ice on her back.

It was an inorganic, chilly voice. She’d never heard anything like it before. As she reflexively shrank from it, she realized for the first time that her hands and feet were bound. Her mouth was gagged, and she was seated with her back against the wall.

She raised her head to see a tall man standing not far from her, in the shadow of a pillar.

Tight, pitch-black cloth covered his entire body, including his head—all except for the eyes. At first glance, he seemed emaciated and unarmed, but he held himself with an eerie stillness that revealed nothing at all.

“Sit still and be quiet,” he said simply. But he didn’t need to say more; the intimidating quality of his words brooked no argument.

Unable to do anything else, Flora quickly set to diagnosing her situation.

Hmm, I was watching the semifinal of the Phoenix tournament when someone called to me…

Her memory ended there, but she thought the man in black before her had the same voice. Did that mean he’d flagrantly kidnapped her from that crowded place?

The crime seemed too bold to succeed, but, upon reflection, Flora had to wonder how many people in that overexcited atmosphere would pay any mind to those around them.

In any case, I’ve been kidnapped—that’s obvious.

Because of her upbringing, Flora was used to dealing with situations that skirted the law, as well as those who made their living outside it. But this was the first time she’d been kidnapped. And yet she found herself calm, probably thanks to her fearless character.

There would be no ransom to be had by kidnapping a child from a poor orphanage. So this couldn’t be about money.

It was possible that he was after Flora herself—but that also seemed unlikely, judging by his indifference so far.

She couldn’t have been chosen randomly. Flora was a child, but she was also a Genestella. If the kidnapper needed just any child, he hardly needed to choose such a high-risk target.

Then does this have something to do with Her Highness…?

If Flora herself was not the objective, then the other possibility was her connections. He had kidnapped her to demand something of Julis—that seemed the most plausible explanation.

Once she had reached this conclusion, she stole a glance at the man. If she was right, then she couldn’t very well just sit there. She hadn’t come all this way to be a burden on Julis.

Maybe I could escape when he isn’t paying attention, or at least contact Her Highness somehow…

Flora tried to move without letting him notice, and— “Hmmf?!”

She felt her head being grabbed from behind and powerfully shoved against the floor. At the same time, a cold, sharp something pressed into her neck.

“I thought I told you to sit still.”

But the man had not taken a single step from his place in the shade of the pillar. An accomplice…?

That couldn’t be. Flora had been sitting up with her back directly against the wall.

It was then that she noticed the pulse of mana.

He’s a Dante…!

“That was your last warning.” As he spoke, the thing that had been pressing Flora down vanished.

Lying on the floor, Flora sighed in relief.

She hated to admit it, but this was not an opponent she could outsmart. Apparently, she had no choice but to do as he said.

For now, at least.

“And finally, the moment you’ve been waiting for! There are only two matches left in this Phoenix tournament—the upcoming second semifinal, and tomorrow’s championship! Who will emerge victorious from this match to compete against Allekant? Will it be Seidoukan, or Gallardworth?!”

As Yanase’s exhilarated announcer voice washed over them, Julis strode to the center of the stage, looking disheartened. “Finally, it’s time for our match.”

“That felt like forever…”

After Saya and Kirin had left, Ayato and Julis had simply waited in their prep room. But, admittedly, it felt less like waiting and more like slow torture from worry and restlessness.

“I thought I was more or less used to feeling weak and helpless… But this time, it’s different.” Julis laughed hollowly.

“Well, let’s trust Saya and Kirin to take care of it and focus on our match,” offered Ayato.

“Right. I know.” Julis shook her head as if to shake off her apprehension, then turned her eyes on the pair who had emerged from the opposite gate.

They were two young men in St. Gallardworth uniforms—though actually, one was still a boy. He seemed to be the same age as Kirin, perhaps a bit older, with fluffy blond hair and lingering childish innocence in his charming face.

Elliot Forster, Gallardworth’s twelfth-ranked fighter, was a young prodigy known by the alias Claíomh Solais, the Shining Sword. Because dueling was strictly regulated in Gallardworth, people said it was harder to climb in rank there compared to other schools. It was highly unusual for a middle school student to become a Page One in that environment.

Standing beside him was a broad-shouldered youth with a shaved head—Doroteo Lemus, alias Brightwen, the Armored Mage. He was ranked eleventh. In stark contrast to Elliot, he had the look of a battle-hardened veteran, and he was more than twenty years old. This was his third Festa tournament.

Ayato had skimmed their data, but now that he faced them in person, he could sense their strength. These were formidable opponents.

“I’d like to finish up the match quickly and go look for Flora, but against two knights of Gallardworth, that’s easier said than done. We won’t beat them if our minds are elsewhere.” Julis glanced at Ayato and shifted her shoulders. “And on top of that, you can’t use the Ser Veresta.”

“Well, I’ll deal somehow,” Ayato muttered as he activated a sword.

“Your optimism’s encouraging, at least,” Julis said drily. “You take Elliot Forster, then. I’ll handle Doroteo Lemus.”

“Got it,” he nodded.

She faced their opponents again. “If the ones who kidnapped Flora are watching…they’ll see. We’ll show them our real strength.”

“Phoenix Semifinal, Match Two— Begin!”

As the school crest system declared the start of the match, Ayato immediately released his seal.

Before, he’d used the image of breaking free from binding chains—but no longer. All he had to do now was mentally insert a key into the lock that held the chains. And then he would overflow with power.

“Burst into bloom—Amaryllis!” The mana around Julis condensed at once, creating a maelstrom of heat.

The giant fireball roared from her hand toward Doroteo…and landed a direct hit. A searing, six-petaled flower blossomed into a fiery explosion.

But—

“Ha-ha! That’s some greeting, Glühen Rose.”

The dark silhouette of a man slowly rose from the center of the fire flower, his voice muffled.

Waving aside the flames, a knight clad in European-style plate mail appeared.

Of course it was no ordinary armor. Conventional materials could hardly defend against Julis’s flames.

“And that’s an impressive costume change,” Julis remarked. “So, your alias isn’t just for show, Armored Mage.”

She activated and readied her Aspera Spina. Evidently, she had expected this turn of events.

The Armored Mage. As the alias suggested, Doroteo’s ability allowed him to create a highly durable armor that covered his whole body and deflected attacks. Still, in terms of defensive strength, it was not nearly as impenetrable as Ardy’s barrier, and it had been destroyed in the past with Meteor Arts attacks.

But what made this armor particularly troublesome was that it was the product of a special ability, so it could be fully repaired in an instant even after being totaled. And since Doroteo’s school crest was attached to his uniform, an attack had to penetrate the armor to destroy it. (According to the Stella Carta, as long as the crest was in the required position at the start of the match, it was permissible to defend it with special abilities.)

And there was one more thing…

“Now it’s my turn, I suppose.” Doroteo stretched out his left hand, and countless tiny, thin plates materialized and started combining.

They joined together in layers upon layers until there stood an enormous armored war horse—or rather, armor in the shape of a horse. As it shook itself out like a living thing, Doroteo leaped on its back with a practiced air. Once seated, he activated a Lux to summon an immense lance.

He was the very image of a knight from a medieval tale.

“Oh? You’re going all out from the start,” Julis chided.

“Against the Witch of the Resplendent Flames, that’s only natural.” Lance in hand, Doroteo gave a light kick to the horse’s side, and it began galloping toward her at breakneck speed. It moved exactly like a live horse—though it was much faster.

“En garde, Glühen Rose!” Hefting his lance, Doroteo ferociously charged forward as one with his steed.

“Julis—!” As Ayato called out, the sharp aura of a nearby sword stroke jolted his side.

“Am I not your opponent?”

Ayato reflexively moved to distance himself while Elliot stood in a sideways stance, as was the style at Gallardworth. He wielded his claymore Lux in one hand.

“Ayato Amagiri. I’ve been looking forward to fighting you. I wish you wouldn’t make me wait.” Elliot’s voice was serene, but the aggression rolling off him was enough to make Ayato ready his own sword.

“…Sorry about that,” Ayato replied.

“And where is your Ser Veresta? Don’t tell me you’re holding back.”

“Unfortunately, there’s a reason I can’t use it at the moment. It’s not that I’m underestimating you. I hope you don’t get the wrong idea.”

“Hmm. You have a reason, eh? So be it.” Elliot seemed somewhat dissatisfied but composed himself quickly; his eyes still glittered with a fierce light. “Our student council president spoke highly of your sword technique. I can’t wait to see it!”

In the next instant, Elliot thrust his weapon at Ayato’s eyes.

“Gah…!”

He was fast. The speed of the blade could rival Kirin’s. But unlike hers, the blow wasn’t very heavy.

“—?!”

Ayato barely deflected his opponent’s sword, then switched places with him as he readied his own strike—only to realize what was coming just before he swung. He leaped back as Elliot’s blade grazed his side.

If his reaction had been an instant later, Elliot would have carved out his torso. It was a perfectly timed counterattack.

“Oh? You dodged it—I wasn’t expecting that,” Elliot muttered aloud, perplexed. “I hadn’t used that move yet in this tournament.”

Indeed, there was nothing in Elliot’s data that had suggested he would use a counter like that one.

Ayato’s impression of Elliot was that he was a nimble fighter with a solid grasp of the fundamentals, yet also able to mete out fluid and varied attacks without falling into patterns—in other words, a versatile prodigy of the sword.

It seemed his impression would have to be revised.

“I see… So you’re good at reacting to your opponent. I wasn’t expecting a counterattack from that position,” Ayato admitted. In the end, the first attack had been a feint.

“Well, you’re right about that,” Elliot said, pouting as he readied his weapon anew. “But I have more than counterattacks!”

He closed the distance to Ayato, sweeping his sword low enough to let its tip run across the ground—then flicking it upward. As Ayato put up his guard, Elliot’s sword traced a curve to dodge Ayato’s blade.

“Whoa—!”

The Gallardworth style of one-handed swordplay stood out for its arcing slices with turns of the wrist and long thrusts. It was practically the opposite of the Amagiri Shinmei style, in which the user-powered heavy, sharp attacks were generated with their whole body. What the Gallardworth style lacked in force, it made up for with agility.

Ayato deflected the fierce succession of attacks, but each time he considered attacking, he was greeted by a swift counter. It was all he could do to keep up.

“Guess you weren’t kidding…!”

The Luxes clashed over and over with clangs and characteristic bursts of sparks.

His attack sequence, the way he controlled the distance to his opponent, his quick judgments, and obviously, his sword technique—there was no doubting Elliot’s talent in every respect. The timing of his counterattacks in particular was phenomenal.

Indeed, in terms of talent alone, he might just rival Kirin.

“But your sword…is still too light.”

Here, Ayato spoke not of Elliot’s sword itself, nor his physical strength, but the resolve behind it.

He forced his way close to his opponent and deflected the youth’s sword, then made a thrust at his school crest.

“Hah! Not so fast!”

As if he’d been waiting for it, the boy twisted to reposition himself and then stabbed forward, mirroring Ayato. At the same time, he turned his wrist to trap Ayato’s sword, but…

“What—?!”

The elder youth had pulled his arm back before Elliot’s attack. Ayato whipped the tip upward to deflect the other sword.

“Amagiri Shinmei Style, Middle Technique—Twin Demon Hornets.”

As if threading a needle through the brief hole in Elliot’s guard, Ayato’s sword gleamed with a second thrust.

“Elliot Forster—badge broken.”

As Elliot’s school crest shattered, his eyes widened in disbelief. “It—it can’t be—”

As the youth crumpled to the ground, Ayato discreetly gave him a sad smile.

In another few years, this boy would likely become a fearsome swordsman. Although that would depend on how much of himself he devoted to it, in the end.

“So…” Letting out a small sigh, Ayato looked toward Julis.

Just then, her fight was also coming to a close.

“En garde, Glühen Rose!”

“Gnh…!”

As Doroteo’s horse charged, Julis just barely dodged it with a diving roll.

The lance was so sharp that it looked capable of cutting the wind itself. A direct hit would end the match then and there.

It’s so much faster than I imagined! And so powerful—!

Julis stood up immediately and readied the Aspera Spina again.

Her foe was known for charging with this lance, and Julis had seen many videos of his matches. Still…

“It’s much more daunting to face it in person…,” she murmured. The attack itself was simple enough. But that also made it harder to deal with. “I suppose the only way is to overwhelm force with force.”

Doroteo, after galloping past her, had wheeled his horse to face her again. Julis let out a startled cry at the fluid movements of the steed.

The abilities of Dantes and Stregas were based on mental pictures. Everything depended on the image. There was no logical reason to create a horse—it took a lot of trouble, and there were simpler ways to charge the enemy. But the quality of the ability changed drastically based on how refined an image the user could conjure. The horse must have been, quite simply, the thing most suited to Doroteo.

“Yaaaaargh!” With a ferocious battle cry, the Gallardworth student charged again.

“Burst into bloom—Primrose!” Julis activated her powers in an instant and slammed all nine fireballs into the incoming knight.

Even though they were direct hits, he didn’t slow in the slightest and continued undeterred. Small breaks appeared in his armor where the attacks had landed, but those were immediately repaired.

“Haah!”

“—!”

As Doroteo shouted, Julis dodged. His lance passed an inch from her face, and a few strands of her rose-pink hair drifted away.

That strike was much closer than the last. He was reading her movements and adjusting accordingly.

At this rate, it won’t be long until I’m skewered. Julis smiled wryly at the idea, even as she shuddered.

Not that she would wait for that to happen, however.

“Blossom—Loropetalum!”

With a swing of the Aspera Spina, Julis activated the trap she had been gradually setting.

She had used this wall of fire before, against the Jie Long twins. But this time, instead of a single long wall, several barricades erupted in layers.

The nature of a charge on horseback required a running start to be fully effective. Maneuvering around obstacles like these would unavoidably sacrifice speed and power.

…Or so Julis had thought, until Doroteo defied her expectations.

“Yaaaaaargh!”

“Impossible!” she blurted.

With another ferocious battle cry, he charged through the fiery walls head-on.

The horse leaped high and broke through the nearest wall, appearing before her with Doroteo and his lance atop its back.

“Burst into bloom—Anthurium!”

Julis summoned a shield of fire, but it was rushed; she couldn’t completely focus her prana, so the mana formed a lackluster spell. She was just barely able to create the shield—which Doroteo’s lance shattered with ease.

“Ngh!” The mana scattered, and the shock launched her backward.

Thankfully, it was enough to avoid being impaled. But as she got to her feet again, Doroteo was readying himself for a fourth charge.

He meant to end it this time. She could feel the tension in the air on the stage.

“Fine, bring it on. Burst into bloom—Longiflorum!”

Julis canceled her fiery walls and created a lance of flame.

“Rraaaaaaaaaaagh!” With an even louder battle cry than before, the knight charged.

Julis hurled her lance past his, but still he did not stop.

As he took a direct hit to his chest, he struck with all his might—

“…!”

But it missed her, only grazing the edge of her clothes.

“Phew…my lance got to you first,” Julis said with a relieved sigh and a smile, turning around. After galloping past her, the man had fallen from his horse.

“W-wow, what happened there?! Lemus has collapsed! But it didn’t look like Riessfeld’s attacks were having any effect on him…”

Listening to the perplexed announcer, Julis walked toward her opponent. He could no longer maintain his ability, and his armor and horse dissolved then and there.

“You really are reckless,” she told him.

Gasping on his back, Doroteo managed to summon a bitter smile to his flushed face. “I wanted to try to end it quickly. I wouldn’t have had a chance if our fight had dragged on.”

Indeed, no matter how much his armor shielded him from damage, he could not defend against the heat of Julis’s flames. After withstanding that much fire, the temperature inside his armor must have grown unbearable. Not even a Genestella could last long under those circumstances.

This had been Julis’s goal all along. Doroteo knew it, too, and he had tried to make the match quick.

“Even so, charging through those walls of fire was too much. You could have lasted longer if not for that.”

“I took a gamble, and I lost. Nothing more,” Doroteo said with a face that betrayed no regrets, then pointed to his own chest. “Now, make it quick.”

Julis nodded and pierced his school crest with the Aspera Spina.

“Doroteo Lemus, badge broken.”

Some abilities matched well against others, and in this particular instance, Julis had the upper hand. Even so, a win was still a win.

Letting out a tiny sigh, Julis shifted her gaze to Ayato.

And at that moment, his fight was also coming to a close.

“Winners: Ayato Amagiri and Julis-Alexia von Riessfeld!”

The automated voice rang through the stadium and was quickly drowned out by the wild cheers of the crowd.

Ayato and Julis exchanged small smiles, but as they exited the stage, their expressions turned somber once again.