The next morning, Tatsuya was exactly the same as he always was. Neither Miyuki nor Minami could tell whatsoever what sort of conversation he’d had with Yakumo the night before. But his being no different from usual was also a behavior that let them feel relieved that their safety had been somehow ensured.

Tatsuya himself, however, was far from relieved. He wasn’t the type to find relief with only a single layer of insurance.

After classes had ended, he was in the student council room. Since they had to go to the Kudou estate in Ikoma today at six, Miyuki had just excused herself for personal matters, leaving the remaining work to Honoka and Izumi.

“Shizuku,” Tatsuya said to his classmate, who had come to hang out.

“What?”

The response was unfriendly, but Tatsuya knew that didn’t mean Shizuku herself was being unfriendly, so it didn’t bother him. “Would you mind having Honoka stay over for a while?”

“Huh?!”

The one who raised her voice was Honoka; Shizuku only frowned a little. “Why?”

“Because it might be dangerous to be alone.”

“…Umm, what are you talking about?” asked Honoka, face pale with unease.

Tatsuya, of course, intended to explain his reasoning, insofar as was possible. “We were attacked yesterday when we got out of the station.”

“What?! Was anyone hurt?!” Izumi asked immediately, her voice loud. She turned to Miyuki.

“We’re fine. Neither I, nor Brother, nor Minami suffered even a scratch.”

Izumi put a hand to her chest and breathed a sigh of relief at Miyuki’s smile, then slowly returned to her seat.

“Like Miyuki said, nobody was hurt. But we don’t know what was behind the attack.”

That was half a lie. But the other half was truth, and in this case, that was more important.

“And the police?” asked Shizuku.

“They haven’t contacted us, so I believe they are probably still investigating it,” replied Miyuki.

“Then you don’t know who it was?”

“Only that they were ancient magicians.”

“That’s it? Any other ideas?”

“Like Brother said, we don’t know why they attacked us.”

“Then maybe…” Honoka, who had been listening to Shizuku and Miyuki’s exchange, began thinking in the direction Tatsuya wanted: “Was there a chance they weren’t after you personally, and they only attacked because you were in First High’s student council?”

Tatsuya didn’t exactly want to frighten Honoka, either, but in this situation, it was better that she remained cautious. “We don’t know. But as I said before, I think it’s best to avoid being alone.”

“All right.” Shizuku put a hand on Honoka’s trembling shoulder. “Honoka, please come to my house today.”

“…Okay, I will. I have to get ready, so can I leave with them?”

“That’s fine.”

Honoka was hesitant, seeming resistant to suddenly stay with someone else—even if it was a good friend—but in the end, she took Shizuku up on her goodwill and Tatsuya up on his advice.

Tatsuya’s secret maneuvers didn’t end there.

“…Anyway, we don’t know who’s after us in this situation.”

“Meaning it could be related to the Thesis Competition, but it also might not be.”

After telling Miyuki and Minami to wait up for him, Tatsuya went and gave the same mix of truth and lies to Mikihiko. Mikihiko had come to observe Isori’s work in the lecture hall again today, in addition to serving as a guard. His question to Tatsuya’s edited version of the story was just something to keep the conversation going.

“That’s right. As long as we don’t know their reasons, we can’t narrow down the target, either.”

It didn’t seem like Mikihiko was doubting what Tatsuya was saying. To defend Mikihiko a bit here, this was less an expression of kindness toward others and more because he’d accepted the weight of the fact that a First High student had been attacked at this particular time.

“Should we send more bodyguards?”

“No, Nakajou has enough people with her, and with the Isori/Chiyoda and Minakami/Kirihara pairings, they should be able to drive off most opponents.”

Leo, who had been listening to their conversation in silence, nodded several times. “More importantly, my concern is you guys and Mizuki. You’re the ones I’m closest to at First High.”

At the words closest to, the two young men looked slightly embarrassed.

On the other hand, the only one whose harsh expression remained, without even a smile, was the lone woman in the group, Erika. “I’ll be fine. Miki goes without saying…and I guess Leo will be okay, too.”

“I’m more worried about you,” Leo said, shooting the insult back. “You are a woman, despite everything else.”

But Erika’s response was different from usual: “Yeah. Like this moron says, I’m more worried about Mizuki. In terms of combat power, she’s just a regular girl.”

As if thinking the same thing, Mikihiko nodded at her remark, his expression nervous. “Yeah…”

“…Tatsuya, I’ll stick with Mizuki for a while,” Erika said. “Would leaving school together be enough?”

The three men all shook their heads.

“I just said you’re a woman, too, remember?” Leo insisted.

“No matter how skilled you are, it’s dangerous. They’re using ancient magic. I doubt you’d lose if you fought them head-on, but we don’t know what kind of tricks they’ll use. Right, Tatsuya?”

“I agree with Mikihiko. You’d be fine protecting yourself, but if you need to protect Mizuki, you’d have trouble.”

Leo’s simple objection aside—though his may have been the most effective—Mikihiko’s and Tatsuya’s views were reasonable, too, so Erika didn’t press the point.

“…Then you go with her, Miki.”

“What?!”

Erika didn’t forget to toss in an explosive counterattack, though.

“Yeah… Mikihiko, can I ask you to do that?”

“Huh? I…but—”

“Make sure to take her all the way to her house. And don’t forget to say hello to her parents, either. If you don’t, they could mistake you for a stalker.”

“Ugh…”

Mikihiko understood the necessity. But on an emotional level, he was very hesitant. Especially to the say hello to her parents part.

“I’ll tell Mizuki about it,” Erika said.

“All right, thanks,” Tatsuya added.

It wasn’t exactly a struggle between logic and emotion.

“…Fine. It would be too late if I said yes after something happened.”

Quashing his embarrassment and awkwardness under a noble pretext, Mikihiko decided to be straightforward.

After he finished taking all the usual measures, Tatsuya headed for Ikoma with Miyuki and Minami in tow. They’d be taking the same linear train from last time to Nara, then going by cabinet the rest of the way. Save for the spots where the ruins and historical buildings were concentrated, the Keihanshin region was equipped with a transportation network that rivaled the Tokyo metropolitan area’s.

The linear train was a hit once again with the two women of his home—enough to make Tatsuya consider traveling out a little farther next time. Privately looking forward to that, they headed from the eastern foot of Mount Ikoma toward the Kudou estate.

The Ten Master Clans had never had a custom of amiable visits to one another. At most, it was men and women of age looking for relationships and marriage, and even then, that wasn’t especially frequent from a normal viewpoint. Tatsuya and Miyuki, who were hiding their connection to the Yotsuba family, had particularly few opportunities of that nature. What that all meant was that this was naturally the first time they’d visited the Kudou estate, but their commuter had a reliable GPS it seemed.

When they arrived, it was 5:55, almost exactly as planned.

They alighted from the commuter and rang the doorbell. When the intercom came on, it wasn’t a servant but Fujibayashi.

“Welcome, Tatsuya. And Miyuki and Minami, too. I’m happy you all made it.”

“Thank you for going along with all this.”

That had been the plan right from the outset, but with Fujibayashi having come to Ikoma from Tokyo ahead of them so that she could welcome them here, even Tatsuya had to show his gratitude.

“Don’t worry about it. Don’t be shy—come on in.”

Having come to greet them at the gate, Fujibayashi invited the three of them inside with a smile.

Indeed, the front yard would have needed guiding through if you weren’t Tatsuya with his sort of clairvoyant abilities. Minami looked impressed, her eyes darting left and right. Miyuki’s gaze was politely fixed to her brother’s back, but she seemed at least a little moved by the verdant walls jumping into the corners of her vision.

The path from the Kudou estate gate to the front door was a maze made of hedge walls over two meters tall. They probably had a vehicle entrance elsewhere, although that, too, doubtlessly had some sort of trick to it. If the people entrance was a maze consisting of magical patterns, the vehicle entrance being a free pass was an impossibility.

This mansion is like a fortress…

Seen from outside the gate, it was certainly extravagant, but in all other respects it was a perfectly normal three-story Western-style construction.

Take one step inside the gate, though, and it was a house of tricks that would repel uninvited guests. Or perhaps it had been a lord’s mansion once, before being formally built into a fortress.

“I bet you’re surprised at how excessive it is.” Fujibayashi smiled, apparently sensing that Tatsuya was feeling appalled.

“This wasn’t something we made to defend against Traditionalist attacks. We’ve been building up this mansion’s defenses a little at a time ever since it was built, incorporating research results from old Lab Nine. Taking up residence in a mansion here was a decision made by the government at the time. And do you know why?” she asked, saying it like she was asking a child a riddle.

Tatsuya didn’t know what answer she was looking for, whether he should say he didn’t know or answer correctly, but he wasn’t exactly brimming with hospitality. “I hear it was to keep watch over Osaka.”

“How dull… You’re right.”

She really is like a little kid with a secret sometimes, Tatsuya thought when he saw how disappointed she was. This time, he pegged his thought as one to keep to himself.

“Brother, what were they watching over in Osaka?”

Still, there was a reason Fujibayashi had asked with such a look of triumph—Tatsuya’s knowledge wasn’t commonplace.

Though Miyuki had asked her brother, this time, Fujibayashi seized upon the chance. “Since Osaka is an international industrial city, it’s tolerant toward foreigners visiting and easy to find housing in. There will always be spies that will slip through surveillance, so if some incident were to happen, it was easy to lose the initiative.”

“And this was to solve that?”

“Yes. Spy magicians working behind the scenes is one of the wickedest nightmares in the minds of politicians. With old Lab Nine being such a success story, the Kudou family was given the mission of handling the foreign magician operatives running rampant.”

Miyuki pretended to be convinced by that explanation. But it still seemed like questions remained.

“You don’t need to hold back, Miyuki,” prompted Fujibayashi, realizing that as well.

“Thank you. I don’t believe it is very important, but… If the mission was to watch spies who infiltrated Osaka, I was just thinking, wouldn’t it be preferable to establish a base on the western side of Mount Ikoma instead of the eastern?”

For Fujibayashi, that casual question pricked a painful spot.

As she frowned, at a loss for words, the answering baton passed to Tatsuya.

“Being too close presents the danger of being incorporated into all of it.”

“You mean betrayal?!” Miyuki gasped.

“No, only that the politicians thought that way.”

The maze came to an end, and now the front door was visible. The conversation on how politicians viewed magicians ended without being dug into any further.

Retsu Kudou was already waiting in the reception room, although the current time was 5:59. Given that Tatsuya’s group wasn’t actually late, he had no intention of apologizing, and he didn’t actually feel any diffidence, either.

Faced with a most senior member of Japan’s magic world, Tatsuya’s mind and body were perfectly normal—

“Thank you very much for making time for us today, sir.”

—so normal that it was Retsu who gave a slight, pained smile at the pure, 100-percent formality.

“It has been a while. We haven’t met face-to-face since last summer, have we?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you for your advice at the time regarding the Electron Goldworm.”

“Not at all…” Hesitation appeared on Retsu’s face, but he overcame it momentarily. “Normally, I would have no obligation to appear before you, but you said you wanted to see me. I am happy we could meet again.”

“I’m much obliged, sir.”

After Tatsuya bowed, Retsu waved a hand to stop Tatsuya before he could continue the diplomatic exchange. “Shiba, you may think it self-satisfied of me, but first I’d like you to allow me to thank you. I thought through and was prepared to do what I did during the Parasidoll incident. As the defeated, I’ve no intention of making excuses, but nor do I intend to apologize. I do, however, feel sincerely sorry for causing trouble and distress for you.”

Retsu lowered his head deeply—while still sitting on the cushioned reception sofa. Tatsuya and Miyuki watched with unresisting looks; only Minami, who stood waiting behind Miyuki, glared at him with a cool, damp light in her eyes.

“I’m in no position to ask your forgiveness, but I do ask for at least this chance to apologize.”

“General, please raise your head,” answered Tatsuya, his voice sounding grateful. “Everyone has their own ideas on what is best. Even I, as young as I am, can understand a simple concept like that. I wasn’t able to tolerate what you were trying to do back then, General, but I don’t intend to reject your idea itself, that we must develop unmanned magical weapons.”

“…You do me a great service by saying so.” Raising his head, Retsu met Tatsuya’s gaze. They each peered into the other’s eyes.

It was Retsu who resumed the conversation, albeit at a delay. “I’ve heard about your business here from Kyouko,” he said. “The capture of Gongjin Zhou. This is a mission handed down by Maya—by Lady Yotsuba, yes?”

“That’s correct, sir.”

Miyuki had been standing next to Tatsuya, elegantly restrained, but inside, she reeled at the surprise. Sure, it was highly likely that Retsu Kudou knew about their circumstances—but she hadn’t predicted her brother would so easily admit to his connection with Maya.

“Would you happen to know who came to Lady Yotsuba with that request?”

“No, sir. I do not, and I believe it’s not necessary that I know.”

“Then you will accept being a playing piece for the Yotsuba?”

Retsu’s question seemed to test him—actually, it probably was a test—and Tatsuya once again said no, his poker face never changing. “Because I know it was best to keep me in the dark, sir.”

Seeing that Tatsuya didn’t seem to be bluffing, Retsu breathed a sigh. “I see… Then you even know of that person.”

Tatsuya didn’t answer. His attitude said No comment.

“It appears Miyuki doesn’t know… No, I apologize. I’ve said something foolish.” Retsu looked at the siblings in turn, then sighed again. “The Ten Master Clans are bound by rules established during the Clans Conference. One of those rules states that, excluding emergency situations, the Clans cannot conspire or cooperate without first going through the Conference.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tatsuya didn’t know the exact rules of the Clans Conference. It was the first time he’d heard of that rule, so he only agreed and nodded without giving any critical commentary.

“As a member of the Kudou family, I cannot accept the Yotsuba’s request for help. So in this case, I believe I will accept Tatsuya Shiba’s personal request as Retsu Kudou.”

““Thank you, sir,”” Tatsuya and Miyuki offered in unison.

For her part, Miyuki gave a modest smile, while Tatsuya’s face was still carefully devoid of emotion.

The meeting with Retsu Kudou ended before even ten minutes had passed, but it had been satisfying for Tatsuya. The whole accepting the request as an individual thing was an empty principle, but he’d gotten the promise that Retsu would ask personal friends for help as well. It was actually beneficial it hadn’t turned into an even longer conversation.

After withdrawing from Retsu’s presence, the three of them were invited by Fujibayashi to eat together. It wasn’t a dinner where they’d mingle with the current head of the Kudou, but a light meal—a show of consideration on her part. Tatsuya gratefully accepted the invitation.

Guided to a casual room among the Kudou estate’s many dining rooms, which seemed to be for children—not in the sense of small children, but a dining room for minors who had been brought together by their parents to deepen relationships with one another—they engaged in a bit of friendly chitchat while waiting for food to be brought in. Then everyone heard soft knocking and turned to look at the door.

“Come in,” called Fujibayashi.

The door opened politely.

“Excuse me. Grandfather told me to ask if I could join you all…”

The one who appeared was a boy about their age. His beautiful face seemed lost.

Minami sucked in her breath at the boy’s unworldly looks. He was so handsome that even Tatsuya couldn’t help but gaze in wonder.

He was utterly fey. In a word, this young man was the archetypal pretty boy.

Tatsuya knew of only one person who possessed a beauty equal to this boy.

And she, Miyuki, the archetypal beauty, stared at her counterpart, at a loss for words.

“Minoru, how long are you going to stand there?”

With a word from Fujibayashi, the fetters binding the young man and Miyuki dissolved.

“Sorry!”

The young man seemed appropriately flustered for his age. He walked over next to Fujibayashi, stopping across the table from Tatsuya and the other two.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” said the boy in a voice that was still somewhat ruffled as he began to introduce himself. “I’m Minoru Kudou, youngest son of the current Kudou head, Makoto Kudou, freshman at Second High. Tatsuya Shiba, Miyuki Shiba, Minami Sakurai—it’s an honor to meet you.”

When he suddenly said her name, Minami’s face reddened. Surprise wasn’t the only thing showing on her face.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Tatsuya Shiba,” said Tatsuya, rising and responding to Minoru’s greeting.

“I’m his younger sister, Miyuki. I see you know who we are, Minoru.”

Without a moment’s delay, Miyuki stood and smiled at Minoru. Both Tatsuya and Miyuki had spoken to Minoru, whom they were just meeting, in a friendly attitude, as though they harbored no sense of caution whatsoever.

In contrast to them, Minoru looked like he was sincerely shy about it. With his cheeks red, his almost mystical impression gave way to a more companionable image, but it didn’t change the fact that he was a pretty boy deserving of the prefix super.

“I had the pleasure of watching you all during the Nine School Competition. Oh—and please call me Minoru. I’m younger than you, so I would appreciate it if you talked to me informally.”

His looks rivaled Miyuki’s, but his surface personality seemed more normal than hers. He was the youngest child of the current head, so he probably hadn’t been raised for succession and was just a little softer around the edges for it.

“Then I’ll do just that,” said Miyuki, giving him a sweet smile and causing Minoru to avert his eyes in embarrassment.

That was when Minami finally restarted. “I’m terribly sorry!”

With a clatter, Minami stood. It would have been hard to call the act proper manners, but she didn’t currently have the ability to care about that.

“I should have already introduced myself! I am Minami Sakurai. It is quite a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lord Minoru.”

“Ah, no, it’s fine. But if you can, I’d rather you not call me lord…”

Minoru returned Minami’s tense, rigid attitude with an uncomfortable look.

“Sorry about that, Minoru, but this is kind of a habit of hers,” Tatsuya explained. “It’s just her nature. Would you mind overlooking it?”

But now that he’d assumed a humble position toward Tatsuya, this wasn’t something Minoru could strongly insist on.

“Oh. If you insist, I suppose…”

With the young lord willing to compromise, the room calmed down.

In terms of school year, Minoru and Minami were both freshmen in high school, and in terms of age, Miyuki, Minoru, and Minami were all the same—sixteen. However, the conversation between them, despite being of the same age and generation, wasn’t exactly bursting with excitement.

“Minoru… It’s not like this is a formal marriage interview. Don’t be so tense.”

“Huh? I just… Sorry, Kyouko.”

“Minami, you too… You might not be able to open up this suddenly, but you have to relax a little more. If you’re too on edge, it’ll be bad manners.”

“…I’m sorry, Big Sister Miyuki.”

Minoru’s and Minami’s stiffness was going too far and causing the conversation to keep breaking off. The others couldn’t ignore them and continue the pleasant chat, either, creating an air of awkwardness around them.

“Now, don’t say that, Miyuki. Telling a sixteen-year-old girl not to be nervous in front of a member of the opposite sex she’s meeting for the first time is too high a hurdle.”

Still, for Tatsuya, Minoru’s nervousness had acted to dilute the sense of caution he had toward him. Tatsuya jokingly chiding a family member in front of a stranger was a manifestation of that.

“Brother, I am sixteen as well, and this is also my first time meeting Minoru. Do you mean to say that I am not included in that group?”

Miyuki directed a sullen gaze toward her brother. But he insisted, “Well, you’re not just any girl—you’re a lady.”

“You make me blush, Brother.” Mood easily brightened, Miyuki put a hand to her rosy cheek and glanced away.

Someone let out a pfft.

When he looked over, Minoru was covering his mouth with both hands. When he noticed Tatsuya’s and the others’ eyes on him, his face flushed in embarrassment. Even so, he couldn’t immediately escape the sudden outburst of laughter. After about ten seconds, though, he’d managed to regain his calm.

“I’m terribly sorry…”

Minoru’s apologizing with his face all red was simply adorable, and the hard-to-approach impression brought on by his too-beautiful features had faded into the shadows.

“I’m sorry as well—my brother played a mean joke.”

By pushing all the blame on Tatsuya, Miyuki strove to get things under control. Tatsuya listened with an expression on his face like it didn’t have anything to do with him.

“No, no… You two seem close,” commented Minoru.

“So close, it’s troubling,” broke in Fujibayashi.

Tatsuya took advantage of it. “I don’t recall ever troubling you, Ms. Fujibayashi.”

Minoru gave a slightly more lonely smile than before. “I’m a little, well, envious. My brothers are quite a bit older than me, so I don’t talk to them much. And I don’t have any friends, either.”

“You don’t have any friends at school?” asked Miyuki, her question maybe lacking in consideration somewhat.

“I’ve been frail ever since I was born… I tend to stay home from school a lot.”

Miyuki frowned. But the one who started clearing up the now-uncomfortable mood was Minoru himself. “But I’ve been feeling good this week. Oh, I know! Are you all staying overnight?”

“Yeah. We have lodging nearby.”

“You’re not staying at our house, then…?”

With Minoru giving off the impression of a child left out of a group, Tatsuya wavered on how best to respond. It was a very cute reaction, not at all how he’d thought the grandson of Retsu Kudou would behave. He had trouble deciding whether it was an act or not.

As Tatsuya and the others struggled to answer, Fujibayashi threw them a life raft. “Minoru, don’t be unreasonable,” she said. “You have to get to know them better first for that.”

Gently chided by his cousin, whom he loved as an older sister (on the face of it), Minoru nodded and said, “You’re right,” with a stiff smile.

“More importantly, why don’t you give them the tour tomorrow?”

Minoru pounced on Fujibayashi’s sudden proposal before Tatsuya and the others could react. “Yes, certainly!”

“Oh, but we don’t want to cause trouble for you.”

Miyuki knew as well as the others this was probably goodwill without any ulterior motives, but Minoru was someone they’d just met today. When Miyuki tried to reasonably decline, Fujibayashi, the one who suggested it, started trying to persuade her.

“But none of the three of you know the lay of the land here, right? Minoru says he’s frail, but that only means he’s prone to getting sick. It isn’t like he can’t go outside, like Mio in the Itsuwa family. He’s well-acquainted with places ripe for Traditionalist infiltration, too.”

Tatsuya’s eyes gleamed.

Their light directed at her, Fujibayashi coolly threw the ball to her cousin. “Isn’t that right, Minoru?”

“Yes. For all the time I’ve spent home from school, I’m confident I know even more about Grandfather’s work than my brothers. Shiba—er…”

“I’m fine with Tatsuya.”

“And you can call me Miyuki.”

Minoru stammered because he’d belatedly realized there were two Shibas here, but Tatsuya and Miyuki immediately picked up on it and told him it was okay to use their first names.

“Please call me Minami.”

Even Minami, who wasn’t part of that, took advantage of it—something one would call a product of consideration rather than a strong self-assertion.

“Tatsuya, is your job to find the Traditionalists?”

Minoru’s expression was a serious one. It certainly didn’t look like he’d asked out of curiosity. After all, he, too, was another magician in the Ten Master Clans.

“Pretty much, yeah,” he hedged.

“I see.” Minoru didn’t ask after the details. “Then I think I can help you. Kyoto is where the Traditionalists have the most bases, but there are more than a few spots in Nara, too, that are likely essential positions for them. I’ll show them to you tomorrow.”

Tatsuya considered the proposal worth the effort. Meanwhile, Miyuki and Minami were looking mystified, so Fujibayashi decided to unravel the situation.

“The Traditionalists are a single magic society, but they’re not one organization; it’s an alliance of at least ten magician groups. So they all have their own headquarters. You know how when people say Ten Master Clans, it’s actually twenty-eight families and their twenty-eight support clans? It’s the same thing.”

The two nodded in understanding.

By the time Fujibayashi’s explanation had finished, Tatsuya had come to a conclusion as well.

“I will accept your kindness. Thank you, Minoru.”

It would mean wrapping up a sixteen-year-old boy whose power was an unknown quantity in a dangerous mission, but neither Miyuki nor Minami offered any real objections, either.

Miyuki would simply and sincerely go along with whatever Tatsuya decided, and Minami had been taught that objecting to her master’s decisions was out of line for a maid.

The next day, Tatsuya and the others checked out of the hotel early in the morning and paid a visit to the Kudou estate again. Their visitation was a light one, having sent their luggage on ahead from the hotel to Nara Station.

Speaking of traveling lightly, Miyuki’s ensemble was unusual in that she was wearing pants. They were made of a sturdy material, more suited for hiking than going out on the town; and up top, too, she wore a long autumn knit sweater instead of a blouse. But if one were to ask if she looked plain, she certainly did not. Both the top and bottom were designs that fit her body type, and without showing any skin, they fiercely appealed to the fact that her face wasn’t the only beautiful thing about her.

Minami, too, seeming to have matched her outfit to Miyuki’s, had on a knit sweater and ankle-length pants. The sizing of her clothes, though, left a little bit of room, and girlish cuteness won out over womanliness.

Despite it being only a little after seven, Minoru was waiting for them at the Kudou estate with a look utterly devoid of sleepiness or exhaustion. It seemed he hadn’t been putting up a strong front when he said he’d been feeling well.

“Good morning. Have you eaten breakfast yet?”

“Good morning, Minoru.”

“We’re fine. We ate before we came.”

Tatsuya and Minami answered in succession. Seeing a somewhat disappointed look come over Minoru, Miyuki asked, “Minoru, have you not eaten? Were you waiting for us before you ate?”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Minoru quickly shook his head. “I only figured that if you hadn’t, I’d let you eat something here. I’m all ready myself.”

“Oh,” said Miyuki, smiling in relief.

Minoru, embarrassed, turned red—but that was all. He wasn’t entranced by her smile like some, it seemed. “Then please come this way. We have a car ready.”

The car the Kudou family had prepared was a limousine. Which was probably normal for this family, though Tatsuya couldn’t completely discard the possibility that it was meant to be an aggravating gesture.

The driver was a man in his early old age. He looked a little like Mayumi’s bodyguard, whom she had introduced to him before. That man was almost certainly an Extra. Is this driver one, too? thought Tatsuya briefly.

He also considered the possibility that Fujibayashi would volunteer to drive, but it seemed even she didn’t have that much free time. And he wasn’t operating on military orders right now, so it would be misplaced to rely on her for support. Getting that far, Tatsuya set the idea aside.

It appeared Minoru saying he was fully prepared was no lie or exaggeration—the young Kudou followed them right into the limousine. He sat across from Tatsuya, next to Minami. Though Tatsuya and Minoru were facing each other, they had plenty of leg room. As expected, perhaps, of a limousine.

Possibly having rubbed up against something while boarding, a bracelet-shaped multipurpose CAD had become visible inside the right sleeve of the thin jacket Minoru was wearing. It was rare for someone to wear a bracelet CAD on their dominant arm (Tatsuya already knew he was right-handed from their meal yesterday). Miyuki was the one who wondered about it; upon noticing her gaze, Minoru smiled and blushed a little.

“This?” he said, rolling up his right sleeve to expose the CAD, before then rolling up his left sleeve.

He had a CAD around both arms.

“Ninety-nine just isn’t enough… I know I could simply arrange similar activation sequences, but I’ve been having trouble finding a good engineer.”

Multipurpose CADs could store up to ninety-nine activation sequences. And Minoru was saying he couldn’t fit all the spells he could use into two.

“It was really tough to use a CAD in either hand, but thanks to FLT developing a thought-controlled assistance device, things got a lot easier.”

“Minoru, you use one of FLT’s fully thought-controlled CADs?”

“Yes,” he said, this time pulling up the chain around his neck and showing Miyuki the medallion-shaped CAD. “This assistance device is a wonderful product. Taurus Silver, the one who developed it, is no less than a genius,” he said, admiration creeping into his voice.

Miyuki suppressed her joy at this statement with a sociable smile and nod, saying only, “Oh, I see.”

“How much do you all know about the Traditionalists?” Minoru asked them as soon as the limousine started to move.

The vehicle had a clear shield partitioning the cabin and driver’s seat, with microphones to allow them to talk back and forth. The microphones’ lights weren’t on at the moment, but the car did belong to the Kudou family. Their conversation would probably be overheard.

“Minami and I barely know anything. All we know is what Brother told us before we arrived at your estate.”

Miyuki thought so, at least, so she gave a measured reply. Retsu knew their circumstances, but that didn’t mean the Kudou family knew of their connection with the Yotsuba. Since Retsu still maintained a degree of real power in the Kudou family, Miyuki instinctively figured that the things Retsu (the previous head) knew and that his son Makoto (the current head) did not would be limited. And if that was the case, she decided it wouldn’t be good for Minoru to probe for where Minami’s knowledge had originated.

“I was told a few things by Master Yakumo Kokonoe. He said they were a group of ancient magicians who participated in old Lab Nine but didn’t get the results they were after, and that once the institute shut down, their unjustified resentment caused them to band together in an unprincipled alliance despite their varying schools of thought.”

Minoru gave a pained smile; Tatsuya’s words were dredged in cynicism and sprinkled with venom. Minoru was neither appalled, nor did he frown. He just smiled. Maybe Minoru was possessed of a more cynical, or perhaps strict, mentality than his appearance would imply.

“You’re mostly right.”

And with the way he said that, he might truly have been like Tatsuya.

“They call themselves Traditionalists, but magicians who preserve actual traditions would call them heterodox. Maybe they should stop mincing words and just call them the Heretics.”

This wasn’t the first time Tatsuya had heard that information, but he kept listening in silence.

“Until modern magic research really got rolling, those who passed down ancient magic hid in the shadows of society. Part of it was to avoid persecution of people with strange abilities, but more than that, it wouldn’t have been favorable for those in positions of authority if magic were to go public. After all, magic that doesn’t leave any physical evidence is a very good weapon in power struggles.”

“Deadly curses—a tradition from ancient Heian times. Nowadays they’re commonly accepted in history books. Is there proof that they were real?”

“At the very least, there are records that the ancient magicians participating in old Lab Nine said they were. Not a literal deadly curse, where you could directly stop someone’s biological functions using magic, but there are real records of people using illusions to drive someone to suicide or using remote object control on a knife to make something look like a suicide.”

“…They killed?” asked Minami in a hard voice.

She, too, had experience killing others during her Yotsuba training, but she’d never killed someone defenseless, someone who couldn’t counterattack, from a distance. Miyuki felt a loathing toward it as well; she just didn’t let it show. Only Tatsuya calmly accepted Minoru’s words.

“If the records are true.”

“Minami, it’s not like Minoru killed them. You should know that much.”

Rather than criticize old Lab Nine, Tatsuya reproached his subordinate.

The word oops ran across Minami’s face before she immediately bowed to Minoru. “I’m terribly sorry, Lord Minoru.”

“No, I was being insensitive. I didn’t need to talk about that.”

Stiffness remained in his voice, probably because he felt a sense of guilt at the inhumane acts his own family had been involved with, despite him not having been directly related to it. But he had the strength of spirit not to let that entrap him.

“I digress. Before modern magic was established, magic casters would sully their hands with dirty jobs of that sort, but it was by no means all of them. In fact, the ones involved with that dirty work were in the minority. Those who learned magic as part of religious training distanced themselves from both those in power and their agents.”

“Still, there are plenty of examples from before the Tokugawa Shogunate was established of famous temples and shrines having soldiers and wielding worldly authority themselves.”

Tatsuya’s remark wasn’t really a question, just a problem he posed to move the conversation along.

“Yes. The soldier-monks of Koufuku Temple and Enryaku Temple are well-known for that. However, like you say, after the Tokugawa Shogunate was established, the violent aspects such as those began to be eliminated from orthodox religious groups. You can’t deny, of course, the state of affairs at the time—you can see from the enforcement of sword hunts that powerful political forces wouldn’t allow religious factions to have martial power. But at the same time, you can’t overlook the fact that with the establishment of a stable form of government, they no longer needed that force at all. Looking at the Tokugawa Shogunate’s governance from a modern viewpoint reveals that it was inundated with problems, but it certainly got rid of large-scale conflicts.”

“And those who were eliminated and lost their ‘jobs’ fled underground.”

“That’s right. More than a few of them possessed combat-oriented Buddhist powers. On one hand, you have the casters who cozied up to political power and became its tool, and on the other, you have what we’d call combat magicians today, fleeing underground, unable to give up the martial force they’d obtained. Those ones participated in old Lab Nine, and collectively, they were the parent body of those who are now calling themselves Traditionalists.”

Minoru gave a heavy sigh then. It wasn’t an expression of tiredness but rather his contempt escaping him.

“Of course, not all the ancient magicians participating in old Lab Nine did such horrible things—the onmyouji dispatched from the Tsuchimikado and the ninjutsu users, for example… I wonder what was different.”

“It was probably whether they’d been trained in controlling their own desires.”

When an answer came back right away to the question he’d murmured, almost talking to himself, Minoru blinked several times. If he’d had a somewhat more normal appearance, the term would have instead been goggling in astonishment.

“…I’m sorry. I got off track again. It looks like I’m a little starved for conversations with people my age.”

“I don’t mind. It was more than relevant.”

“Thank you for saying that. Now, how far did I get…? Right, about the Traditionalists’ predecessors.”

Seeing Tatsuya nod, Minoru resumed the conversation’s main thread.

“That’s the background they come from, so their bases today are set up close to the orthodox faction bases they originally belonged to—or maybe I should say behind them.”

“They’re near famous temples and shrines, then?”

“Yes—much to the chagrin of earnest men and women of religion.”

Tatsuya and Minoru exchanged glances, smiling thinly. Their smiles were different in nearly every way, with Tatsuya’s a very manly one and Minoru’s beautiful beyond the bounds of gender, but strangely enough, the aura they gave off was similar.

“You’ll all be returning from Nara Station, right?” he asked, his eyes moving away from Tatsuya, where they had been until now, to Miyuki.

“Yes, that’s right,” she answered simply.

“To tell the truth, the biggest Traditionalist base in Nara is a little deeper in than the Kasuga Grand Shrine,” Minoru went on, “but it’s close to Nara Station, so I’ll make that our end point. Let’s go to the Katsuragi area first. In the southern region of Nara, even the Traditionalists are docile, but still…”

“Yeah, just to be safe,” Tatsuya agreed. “Thanks.”

“You can leave it to me.”

The first place Minoru brought them was a promenade called Old Katsuragi Road in Gose, in the southwestern part of the Nara Basin. They passed over Ikaruga on the way for the simple fact that it didn’t have any Traditionalist bases there.

The Old Katsuragi Road was a promenade that you could take a leisurely six- or seven-hour walk down for sightseeing, but they didn’t have any time to spare right now. Minoru instructed the limousine driver to wait at the promenade’s exit, then suggested to Tatsuya and the others that they rent stand-up electric robot scooters.

Despite the scooters having automatic controls, you needed a moped license (a term that persisted to this day) for one-person robot scooters or a small motorcycle license for the two-person ones, but unfortunately, neither Miyuki nor Minami had such a thing.

Well, for Miyuki, it was definitely not unfortunately but fortunately. Tatsuya had a large motorcycle license, and Minoru also had his normal motorcycle license. Which meant, inevitably, that they’d have to rent the two-person ones, the pairings being Tatsuya/Miyuki and Minoru/Minami.

“I’m sorry if I get in your way, Lord Minoru.”

“Don’t worry about it. All I’m doing is holding the handlebars.”

Minami was more apologetic than she’d ever been, but Minoru wasn’t worried in the slightest. Still, for a normal male high school student, the situation would seem like quite the perk. While she wasn’t as popular as Miyuki, boys who would insist Minami wasn’t a beauty herself were definitely in the minority. No matter how amazingly beautiful Minoru was, this would never be unpleasant.

And as for the other pair…

Two-person robot scooters were made for the two people to stand side by side, with the driver holding the handlebars and the passenger normally holding on to a safety bar attached to the vehicle’s side.

But Miyuki wasn’t gripping the safety bar.

She had her arms around her brother in a happy embrace.

The robot scooter with the Shiba siblings was driving behind Minoru’s because of the relatively large width of the vehicles. If one were to posit, then, that Minoru and Minami weren’t having to look at this display, it would be a statement proven false. Each time they checked behind or stopped, Minami gave a sigh with an utterly disgusted face. In fact, it was Minoru, seeing the siblings’ bonding for the first time, who sported the poker face.

Setting aside the scenery that was their traveling companions, the search of the Old Katsuragi Road turned up nothing. Still, Minoru had said from the start that the chances were low, so there was no disappointment had by either party. In fact, during their observation of the bases (not their search, because they’d only been probing with magic), though it was only for a short time, they got to experience the refreshing ether of several historical temples and shrines—the Kuhon Temple and the Hitokotonushi and Takamahiko Shrines.

And there was also an unexpected meeting.

“Is that you, Shiba…?”

A young man who appeared to be a Shinto priest apprentice was cleaning the Takagamo Shrine grounds, and he spoke to Tatsuya as they rolled by. With a white hakama on, the young man wasn’t wearing any glasses, but other than that, his face was in Tatsuya’s memories.

“Tsukasa—it’s been a long time.”

It was Kinoe Tsukasa, former First High student and captain of the kendo club at the time, who had been forced to do an anti-magician group’s bidding through brainwashing magic during the Blanche incident last April.

“Oh, you remembered me… Well, I caused you a lot of trouble back then. I really do apologize, including for not giving a real apology at the time.”

Kinoe, saying that, lowered his head deeply. His mannerisms were very brisk compared to back then.

“Not at all—you were a victim, too, so…”

At Tatsuya’s soothing remark, Kinoe shook his head widely. “I may have fallen under their spell, but my weakness was what they took advantage of. However, I am grateful for your kindness in saying so. Also,” he added, in a tone that suggested he had just thought of it, “I’m not a Tsukasa anymore. Mom got a divorce. I’m back to being Kinoe Kamono.”

“Is that so? Wait, then, is the reason you’re here…?”

“I don’t know very much about you, but you really are sharp. About my eyes?” said Kinoe, pointing to them. “Apparently, they contacted the main house, which didn’t even know until then. There were some complications, and now they’re letting me study here.”

Now that he’d heard the circumstances, the story wasn’t all that surprising. Takagamo Shrine was the grand head shrine of Kamo shrines, which were dedicated to the local deity of the Kamo clan. Yakumo had mentioned Kinoe was a collateral relative of the Kamo. Though their connection was token, the Takagamo Shrine—the head family, in a sense—looking after those born into the clan with abnormal abilities, even at the periphery, was not especially strange, given the importance of blood ties in the world of magicians.

“Before making amends, I plan to study here and wash away the impurities within my body.”

“I see. Well, Kamono, I can’t say much that isn’t trite, but I hope things go well.”

“Thanks. At some point, I’ll come to pay you a true apology.”

So saying, Kinoe gave another deep bow, then went back to cleaning the shrine precincts.

So as not to get in his way, Tatsuya, too, left the grounds. Returning to the place where the robot scooter was parked, Miyuki, who hadn’t said anything before now, spoke.

“Wasn’t that nice, Brother?”

“Yeah.”

To be honest, Tatsuya didn’t care much at all about Kinoe. He’d never even thought back on him until meeting him just now. But the sight of a boy, life twisted and warped by magic, making efforts to get back on the straight and narrow instead of cutting his ties with magic altogether, was a breath of fresh air for Tatsuya, who felt magic to be a curse.

After leaving the Old Katsuragi Road, Minoru showed them around Kashihara Shrine first, then the Ishibutai Kofun and Mount Amanokagu. More precisely, he brought them around the Traditionalist bases nearby, but with their search coming up empty-handed, all of them ended up being simple sightseeing opportunities.

The time was now three in the afternoon. The four of them had come to Nara Park.

“Would there be a magic society base right here in the middle of the city?”

“No—it’s Mount Mikasa. That’s where the Traditionalists’ main large-scale base is: inside.”

“I thought Mount Mikasa was a holy precinct—or rather, that the mountain itself is a shintai. Isn’t entry forbidden for everything except pilgrim routes?”

“The Traditionalists probably thought it was a good place for them since people don’t come near it and because the location is sacred. Maybe they believe that as people who pass down true magic, they’re worthy of being embraced in the arms of gods and receiving their blessings, or something like that.”

“I’d think if you wanted to hide a tree, you’d put it in a forest… All right, then. Can you show us there?”

At the intersection branching off toward Toudai Temple in one direction and Kasuga Grand Shrine in the other, the four of them got out of the limousine, and with Minoru leading the way, they began heading toward the Mount Kasuga walking paths. Until the first half of the twenty-first century, there was a driveway, too, so you could enter the mountain region in a car, but currently there were only walking paths. This was because of the revival of “reverence” toward the sacred as the technology of magic advanced. Now that something whose existence was previously only wives’ tales and rumors had been proven by science, people had taken back a piousness toward that which could exist. It was like an ancient Greek philosopher once explained: It seemed that knowing made you deeply aware of what you did not know.

At first, their walking order was with Minoru in the lead, Tatsuya and Miyuki behind him, and Minami one step behind them. But around the time they passed the Ukigumo Shrine—a site subordinate to the Kasuga Grand Shrine—Tatsuya and Miyuki ended up in the front.

There was no particular reason for this. If anything, Minoru was just being considerate of Minami.

“Look—another lovely little shrine,” the sister Shiba stated.

“I can’t exactly say that size doesn’t matter,” Tatsuya quipped back, “but as long as it has the necessary form for worshipping a god, it’s a splendid shrine in its own right. Gods don’t have fixed heights or weights, after all.”

“Oh, Brother. Isn’t that a little disrespectful?”

“You think so? I thought I was being sincere in my veneration for the kami.”

“Hee-hee. We’ll leave it at that, then.”

The siblings were having a good time chatting as they walked. Plus, the younger sister’s arm was firmly latched onto the older brother’s, meaning the distance between them was inevitably zero. From Minami’s point of view, watching them from behind, that was much more of a punishment.

In any case, it was embarrassing to watch. Strangely, she didn’t feel as though it was dissolute or disgraceful, but just watching them made the blood rush to her face and get her heated. Still, she couldn’t leave them. Looking down, she endured it as an act of asceticism.

Minoru, in consideration for how painful this seemed for her, was walking alongside Minami.

“This is another branch shrine of the Kasuga Grand Shrine, right?” Miyuki went on.

Whether or not they were aware of Minami’s state—though the chances that they knew and decided to ignore it were highest—the siblings’ happy chatter never ended.

“Yeah,” Tatsuya agreed. “The deity enshrined at Atago Shrine is Homusubi-no-Kami, who has power and virtue over fire prevention. And Seimei Shrine worships a deification of the first copper ever produced in Japan.”

“The deities enshrined at the Kasuga Grand Shrine are Takemikazuchi-no-mikoto, Futsunushi-no-mikoto, Ame-no-Koyane-no-mikoto, and Himegami, right? …Come to think of it, aren’t the kami enshrined at Yoshida’s family’s house these same four?”

“Well, I think you’re referring to the Yoshida Shrine, but the surname is just a coincidence. Mikihiko’s family isn’t related to it. In fact, his house isn’t even a shrine at all.”

“Oh! Is that right?”

“Yeah. Also, they’re not even a religious corporation. His family’s house is a magic training dojo—a private school.”

“…How embarrassing. I’ve had the wrong idea this entire time. I wish you had told me this sooner, Brother.” Miyuki pouted.

Even as she glared bitterly at him, though, the distance between them didn’t change.

Minami had her face pointed toward the ground and she was desperately reining in the desire to cover her ears. But next to her, Minoru was watching Tatsuya and Miyuki fondly.

The endurance run for Minami ended right before the entrance to the promenade.

Tatsuya stopped abruptly, then lightly shook his left arm, which Miyuki had in hers.

She immediately released his arm.

Tatsuya wasn’t the only one who had sensed something wrong.

A short moment later, a sharp light came into Minoru’s warm eyes as he looked left and right, evidently on his guard.

Today was Sunday. Many sightseers aside from Tatsuya’s group had been around, up to the point that they’d branched off toward the Kasuga Grand Shrine.

As they drew closer to that promenade, there had been fewer and fewer tourists.

And now that they’d arrived at its entrance, nobody, save themselves, was here.

“Mental interference magic—a bounded field,” murmured Tatsuya.

“Is it an enemy?” asked Miyuki sharply, ever cautious, searching for nearby presences. Minami, too, did the same from where she stood beside Minoru.

Tatsuya had probably noticed this a while ago. Minoru, too, seemed to have vaguely sensed something was up.

The strange thing was how neither Miyuki nor Minami had any doubts as to the unnatural decrease in people. Especially Miyuki. She was a world-class user of mental interference magic, so she possessed a strong resistance to mind-based attacks.

It was Minoru who answered that question.

“It seems to be a high-level bounded field caster. They must have kept their magic output to the bare minimum, riding the line so we wouldn’t notice until too late.”

With instantly effective spells being the norm in modern magic, ideas about not letting people know you were using magic were few and far between. At most, they’d developed delayed-activation spells where you could control the spell’s activation timing; techniques to hide already-activated spells existed only as a personal trait.

If they were up against high-power magic, Miyuki would be able to nullify it using a larger event-influencing force. With this, though, she’d been very gradually placed under a weak mental guidance, leading her to fall under the spell without even thinking about resisting it.

“Seems techniques like this are in abundance in ancient magic,” said Tatsuya under his breath.

“Unlike us modern magicians, who treat the ability to use a myriad of spells to deal with a wide variety of situations as important, ancient magicians tend to value casters who excel in a specific spell.”

“Guess that means secondary skills to use alongside that specific spell have advanced.”

Many parts of Minoru’s knowledge were proving useful to Tatsuya in different ways. The old Lab Nine information about ancient magic felt like an especially fresh viewpoint, having a different tone than the info on orthodox spells he’d heard from Yakumo and Mikihiko. Tatsuya personally would have liked to have more varied discussions with him to acquire more of his knowledge, but unfortunately, he didn’t have the time for that right now.

“Still, I bet you catching on this quickly wasn’t something they’d calculated for, Tatsuya.”

Right after Minoru said that, auras behind the trees rippled and swayed.

“It seems they’re quite confident in their invisibility.”

Minoru was saying this out loud in order to provoke the enemies surrounding them.

Either they were impatient types, or they decided staying hidden any longer wouldn’t mean much.

“Minami!”

“Understood!”

Minami erected a barrier at Tatsuya’s command—and at the same time, a silvery light flashed off its surface.

The glow, which the defensive wall repelled, had come from what appeared to resemble a thick needle, or possibly a superthin arrow. It was a metal dart bullet—a fléchette—fired using magic.

Assuming a posture in which she, too, could deploy a defensive spell at any time, Miyuki scouted for the shooter’s location. But by the time she’d pinpointed him, Tatsuya had already swung around to the other side of the trees.

A series of screams. Cries of anguish at their bodies being bored through by Tatsuya’s partial dismantling.

Miyuki decided she could leave that side to her brother. Instead, she prepared for a spell coming from the opposite direction.

Psions shimmered, and the signs of magic activation appeared over the young women’s heads. It was lightning spirit magic, one Miyuki had seen many times, the kind Mikihiko excelled in. But they disappeared in an instant—thanks to Program Demolition, Tatsuya’s specialty information body–dismantling countermeasure.

“Brother, we’re fine over here!”

As if to back up her words, Miyuki deployed Area Interference. In order to stay out of the way of Minami’s and Minoru’s spells, she first activated it in a narrow cylinder around her alone. The pillar-shaped field stretched above, slowly widening at a height that wouldn’t get in anyone’s way. Aiming down, she gathered power in a horizontal circle just below the ground. In less than a second, a gigantic cocktail glass–shaped Area Interference field had formed, one that wouldn’t allow any magical attacks from the air or from underground through.

“Amazing… It’s like a grail,” breathed Minoru in wondering admiration.

But he, too, wasn’t just appreciating Miyuki’s magic. Leaving her and Minami’s side, he started walking in the opposite direction from the screams that were their assailants being shot by Tatsuya.

At first, Minami tried to stop him; if he was moving swiftly to their flank, that would be one thing—but she thought walking slowly to them was like asking them to make him a target.

But Miyuki stopped her. When Minami tried to raise her voice, Miyuki grabbed her arm, then shook her head slowly enough to be inconspicuous, telling her she didn’t need to.

Minami immediately understood why.

The enemy’s force apparently consisted of two kinds of casters. Some were ancient magicians who were unbound by tradition and incorporated the concept of modern magic’s weaponized CADs into their fighting styles and were firing physical weapons called fléchettes propelled by magic. The others were ancient magicians who stuck to tradition and used bounded fields—mental interference magic for consciousness-manipulation—and were currently throwing out attacks using SB magic, magic that utilized independent information bodies.

Tatsuya was intercepting the former, while Minoru was going after the latter hidden magicians. The enemy didn’t seem to understand what he was doing, either. But a moment later, their violent attacks converged on him. Perhaps they’d realized he was one of the Kudou bloodline they so detested—they had completely forgotten about the girls.

But not one of their spells hit him. Spells that created wind, fire, and sound pierced through Minoru and dissipated without leaving any damage, while spells that would directly deal external and internal injuries all failed because of a lack of a target to affect.

“An…illusion? Unbelievable…”

Minami’s murmur was no exaggeration. While not up to Tatsuya’s level, magicians perceived psions at the same time as physical light and sound. Minoru’s body, in Minami’s eyes, had the exact same psionic pattern as his true body, which had just been walking next to her.

In other words, if you used magical senses, the person would definitely be right there.

“Parade. It’s a secret technique of the Kudou family that incorporates elements of ninjutsu.”

Miyuki’s voice trembled with an apprehension that trumped her words of praise.

“Still, it’s amazing… Why, he’s using it more precisely than Lina!”

“When you say Lina, do you mean Angie Sirius, commander of the USNA’s Stars?”

“Yes. Angie Sirius, also known as Angelina Kudou Shields. We were calling her Lina. She was kind and sweet in ways unlike a soldier, but her skill in magic was worthy of the Stars’ commander. But Minoru is beating her in technique. At least, in terms of Parade. I had no idea the Kudou family had such a treasure.”

How would Minoru feel when he heard Miyuki’s impressions? Would he have told her he was honored? Would he have been embarrassed and said he still had a long way to go? Or would he have been modest, saying he was certainly no treasure? Perhaps he would have been shocked at her new caution directed toward him, despite him volunteering to show them around out of pure goodwill and how he had zero intention of being her enemy.

Thankfully, though, he hadn’t heard the female Shiba’s voice. His mind was 100 percent focused on neutralizing the enemy.

An activation sequence expanded from Minoru’s right hand and was absorbed in an instant. He hadn’t pressed a button because he was using a fully thought-controlled device; once you understood that, nothing about it was surprising. The noteworthy thing was the speed he read in the activation sequence. Even a modest estimation of that speed would have placed him on the same level as Mayumi Saegusa, former First High student council president…

But it was still too early to be surprised.

In no time at all, after receiving the impact of the activation sequence’s processing speed, Minoru’s magic fired off.

The ground began to glow, starting from a step in front of him. The emission-type spell Spark. It was a basic emission-type spell that forcibly extracted electrons from matter and caused an electric discharge, but normally it targeted air particles in a very restricted scope. While ionization occurred with relative ease in the natural world, because this spell interfered with the structure of matter and altered it, it required a high level of event interference. The most that many magicians could do was cause the ionization in an extremely limited target area with low density, meaning few particles in a certain volume.

And he’d activated it on the entire surface layer, in their entire vision. This was wider than the discharge area of Slithering Thunders, the combination spell Hanzou Gyoubu-Shoujou Hattori, former chairman of the First High club committee, specialized in—despite his Slithering Thunders having a higher degree of difficulty as a spell, considering it used static electricity from friction for the discharge along with other factors.

He’s better than Hattori and on the same level as Saegusa?!

Miyuki was so taken aback by the sight that she forgot to even fire supporting magic.

Even Tatsuya, who had disabled half—or perhaps one half circle—of the magicians surrounding them, was watching Minoru’s magic in awe.

Like Miyuki, he was, of course, impressed that he’d applied Spark, which needed strong event influence, to this many targets. But what he was really attentive to was how this wide-range Spark was only a preparation to let him smoke out his prey.

A normal magician, or even a first-class one, would use spells whose activation could fail due to a lack of influence as a sacrifice. The fact that Minoru was possessed of magic power corresponding to what was in a way an extravagant tactic had been immediately proven with Tatsuya watching.

To block the electric current crawling up from his feet, an enemy magician used a defensive spell. He’d probably prepared a conditionally triggered spell in advance because even with modern magic using CADs, perceiving an attack before triggering a spell was too tough to time. Most likely it was an SB magic spell that used a one-time synthetic spirit to cause an event alteration that would cancel out whatever magic-based phenomenon the caster perceived. Tatsuya speculated that it was an ancient magic spell called Tsuina-jutsu, a technique to drive out evil spirits.

In this case, the spell the opponent had used wasn’t the important part.

Because a spell had gone off automatically—in other words, he’d used a spell without meaning to—the spell that was hiding his location, Invisibility, was turned off for that moment. Now Tatsuya could easily tell where the enemy was hidden even without using Elemental Sight the way he had been. Miyuki and Minami could probably both see them, too. And naturally, so would Minoru, the one who had contrived the act.

Minoru used his left hand to expand an activation sequence, which was then absorbed into his arm—clearly, he had nearly mastered the fully thought-controlled CAD. As a developer, this was a joyous thing for Tatsuya, but when he considered how it hadn’t even been two months since it had hit the markets, he couldn’t help feeling an unfathomable anxiety about Minoru’s magical sense.

An electric current flowed where Minoru pointed. It neither produced light nor the sound of dielectric breakdown, but Tatsuya was using an ability to perceive information bodies, and he could see what had happened. Minoru’s spell had created a state that was the same as if he’d interfered with the enemy caster’s internal electric current and caused another current to flow into him from outside.

The soft sound of a person falling down reached Tatsuya’s ears—the result of the magician who took Minoru’s attack losing his freedom of movement because of the electric shock.

The magician’s body was protected from others’ magic with an unconsciously deployed Information Boost barrier. It didn’t matter that he was an ancient magician. Minoru had easily broken through that barrier and directly applied magic to him.

Even Masaki Ichijou would have trouble instantly breaking through an Information Boost barrier with any spell except for his vaunted Burst. Tatsuya hadn’t exactly seen it with his own two eyes, but he knew about it from the detailed combat reports about the Yokohama Incident.

Maybe Minoru was especially good at emission-type magic, which interfered with electricity—with the motion and distribution of electrons. If Tatsuya considered it to be Minoru’s forte, he couldn’t say for certain whether his event influence surpassed Masaki’s. But on the other hand, Minoru had mastered Parade, a spell that blended ancient and modern magic, which meant that he had the skills to rival Masaki Ichijou even in modern magic.

Where Minoru’s illusion pointed, people fell, one after another.

The enemy attacks couldn’t find his true body.

Then, perhaps finally realizing the sheer power differential, one of the magicians appeared from the shadows he was hiding in.

It wasn’t to surrender—he had a paper talisman ready. And if he’d purposely shown himself, then it wasn’t to run away, either. He was poised to sally out with an all-or-nothing—or rather, a do-or-die attack.

Minoru’s eyes naturally moved toward the man.

It would be cruel to call it a mistake. Because he was prone to sickness, his talents were top-top-tier, but he hadn’t been blessed with many opportunities in real combat.

Minoru’s spell took down the caster holding the talisman.

At about the same time, a small figure burst out from the brush just beside him—and by nature, just beside Miyuki.

It wasn’t a magician. It was much smaller and sharper than a human—a four-legged beast.

“A pipe fox?!” Minami yelped.

If the exclamation was a warning, it was too late. The small beast was clearly out for blood, and it was about to jump right at the Shiba sister.

Miyuki watched the beast trying to attack her without even blinking.

Minami was the one who acted instantly. “Lady Miyuki!”

Having sensed the circumvention of the anti-matter shield she’d had up, she jumped into action—the action of hanging over Miyuki to shield her.

Even so, Miyuki was taller than her. For Minami to cover her, she’d have to jump into her and knock her down.

Miyuki, who had never once considered the possibility Minami would ever pull something like that, helplessly toppled backward.

“Miyuki!”

Even Tatsuya shouted in haste at that. But he quickly regained his calm.

Minami, who had frantically turned around with Miyuki underneath her, froze when she saw something unexpected.

She looked on as a small, long-bodied creature rolled, very literally frozen, across the ground.

“Owww… Minami, would you please move?”

Minami hurriedly stood up at the voice coming from under her. There was no anger in Miyuki’s voice whatsoever, but Minami was on the verge of panic.

“I should have known, Miyuki. Your reaction was brilliant.”

When Tatsuya walked over to them, he offered his sister a hand up.

Happily taking it, Miyuki rose with a motion that felt almost weightless.

“I am your little sister. It’s only natural I can do this much.”

Neither Tatsuya nor Miyuki seemed to be looking at Minami, who was about to faint from nervousness.

Meanwhile, Minoru disabled the remaining enemies.

Tatsuya went away from the rest of the group to search through the pockets of the magicians he’d defeated. Their possessions, though, were little help in determining their identities. But he really hadn’t been expecting any help there, so he didn’t come away disappointed. With an innocent look, he went back to Miyuki and Minami.

The two of them had been repeating the same exchange over and over: I’m sorry, I’m sorry… It’s fine; don’t worry about it— I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry… It’s really fine; don’t worry about it anymore. Deciding it would take a little more time for Minami to calm down, he looked over to Minoru, who was walking their way. He was about to show his appreciation, but Minoru addressed him before even that:

“That was amazing, Tatsuya. I can’t believe you cleaned up all those enemies in such a short time.”

Even Tatsuya struggled to keep the pained grin off his face for this one. “No, you were the one who stole the show. I essentially ambushed them, but you went straight for the hidden enemies and overwhelmed them.”

“I was the one who launched the surprise attack. You know about Parade, don’t you?”

“Yeah. And I’m curious as to how you know that I know about Parade.”

“That’s a secret,” answered Minoru simply, giving a smile without an ounce of malevolence in it.

Tatsuya had known this already, but once again, he thought about how Minoru, despite his angelic face, had quite a “personality.”

If someone had heard his thoughts, they would have probably showered him with criticism—you’re one to talk! Before the conversation could fall into an infinite loop of complimenting and modesty, he changed the subject.

“By the way, how much longer is it to the Traditionalists’ base from here? We didn’t spend much time on this battle, but if they ambushed us here, that means they knew we were heading toward their hideout. I doubt any clues will be left by the time we get there.”

“Indeed. And we can’t leave them here, either.”

“Brother, would it not be wise to leave soon? We still have time before our train, but if we stay here overlong, people will notice.”

Miyuki wasn’t exactly envious of the “friendly” conversation Tatsuya and Minoru were having, but she did urge caution.

“Right. Let’s call it quits for today.”

“Oh—then I’ll keep watch here… Also, and this may be none of my business, but when is your return train arriving?”

“Seven thirty, so we still have three hours.”

Tatsuya and the others had come here planning to spend more time on the search, so they’d gotten a relatively late time on their return ticket, too. (Incidentally, tickets still existed in this day and age.)

“Then how would a hot spring sound?”

“A hot spring…?”

Miyuki, who had been listening in on Tatsuya and Minoru’s conversation, frowned dubiously. Next to her, Minami furtively—to her, but plain as day to anyone else—tugged at her collar and checked for body odor.

The meaning behind it was clear. Minoru, having just stepped on a landmine in all women’s hearts—or thinking as much—panicked.

“N-no, I don’t mean you’re dirty, or smelly, or anything like that…”

Miyuki turned a piercingly cold glare on Minoru.

His entire body went stiff. The way he’d steeled himself for a direct confrontation earlier was completely gone.

Tatsuya, realizing he’d have to be the one plucking the chestnuts from the flames, inwardly sighed. “Minoru, you just blew yourself up,” he explained, putting a firm end to things before Minoru could unintentionally spread the damage any further. “Miyuki, Minami, you two need to calm down. He only suggested a hot spring as a way to soothe the exhaustion from the battle.” His tone to them was strong, leaving the dumbfounded boy on the sidelines. “It doesn’t sound like a bad idea to me. What about you?”

“…If you say so, Brother.”

Miyuki seemed like she wasn’t completely convinced, but on the other hand, as she nodded, her eyes glittered in anticipation, maybe drawn to the idea of what all it would entail.

Beside her, Minami pressed her right hand to her sweater collar in embarrassment.

The hot spring Minoru led them to was in a long-established hotel in a location not far from the Heijou-kyou Capital Area. He led them there rather than directed them to it because despite his reasonable assertion that they should leave someone involved at the scene, Tatsuya had brought him along against his will.

In other words, it turned out that Minoru was surprisingly weak to pressure.

If the boy hadn’t been with them, Tatsuya probably would have been dragged into the family bath by Miyuki. He couldn’t say he was against it, but he wouldn’t stand for leaving Minami alone in a place like this.

And he had something he wanted to ask Minoru, too.

That was why, going into a hotel renowned for its natural hot spring, the two men had instead shut themselves up in a guest room, a low table between them as they faced each other.

“…Was the pipe fox what you wanted to ask about, Tatsuya?”

“I’m surprised. Your insight is incredible.”

Tatsuya was being fairly serious in his compliment, but Minoru seemed to take it as flattery. “Not at all—I couldn’t remember mentioning anything else that seemed to draw your interest.”

Tatsuya had been trying to praise him for those exact sharp wits, but it wasn’t something he felt the need to repeat. He decided to get to the point. “What is it, exactly? The beast had a perfectly physical body, but I’ve never heard of nor seen a fox-like creature like that. And if it was a regular animal, it wouldn’t have gotten through Minami’s anti-matter barrier.”

Minoru’s eyes appeared to waver. But it lasted only a moment. “Tatsuya, you know of the parasites, right?”

“Yeah. You do, too?”

“Yes. To put it simply, pipe foxes are familiars made with the same principles.”

“The same principles…? By embedding an isolated information body in an animal?”

“Yes. By extracting an animal’s information bodies at the moment of its death, making it into a synthetic spirit, then embedding it into a young body of the same species, you create a familiar—an animal with magical abilities. I hear it was a surprisingly popular technique in ancient magic.”

“Was that pipe fox a familiar created in the same way?”

“Yes. But that isn’t what you really wanted to ask, was it?”

Minoru let a strange, nonhuman air drift from him. Not because he had a parasite within him or anything. Minoru predicted that Tatsuya was going to pepper him with questions about parasite cultivation methods, and so he’d steeled himself—for the misunderstanding that they’d offered humans as sacrifice to cause the parasites to multiply. The feeling of tension made his incredible features look even more otherworldly.

But Tatsuya hadn’t intended to do anything like that. Besides, he was used to inhuman beauty, so he didn’t feel particularly pressured. “No, that’s enough for now.”

Caught off guard, the strange air vanished from Minoru’s face. In an innocent voice, he chuckled. “…S-sorry.”

He tried to stop himself, but the outburst of laughter overwhelmed him. He’d been hooked.

“Tatsuya—you’re, how do I put this, a very deep person. I think I can tell why Grandfather is so interested in you.”

“I’m just an average person, you know.”

Average as a person anyway, thought Tatsuya, and as if to object to that thought, Minoru’s accidental laughing continued.

After being shown to their rooms, Miyuki and Minami had gone straight to the large public bath, which meant Tatsuya didn’t need to hide the info about the pipe fox from her. Tatsuya hadn’t exactly instructed his sister to leave, but Miyuki was just being too suspicious about it all.

But ultimately, this was the right choice. After all, now she was taking a leisurely dip in the hot spring, which felt even better than she’d expected.

The bath was fairly crowded. In this age, it was normal never to expose your naked body in front of others. Booths to wash yourself were individually partitioned, and you would wear a yugi, a garment meant for wearing in a public hot spring. The ones here were fairly modest—meaning they showed little skin—as expected from a long-established ryokan. Still, Miyuki drew attention.

It wasn’t a mixed bath, so it was only members of the same sex. Most of them were older, too—and there were some elderly ladies as well. Even so, when Miyuki appeared at the side of the tub, all the bathers looked at her at once. Such silence came over the room that time could have stopped.

A white foot softly entered the bathwater. Someone, somewhere, let out a sigh, and time started moving again.

Miyuki slowly slipped in. Clinging to her skin before, her yugi billowed out. Almost like an angel, thought more than a few people.

She exhaled alluringly at how good it felt. Instead of a sigh, there was an intake of breath.

Small waves rippled out over the water’s surface. Two people, who looked over twenty years old, had stood up in a fluster and left the room. Despite not having invited anyone else, one person, then another also rose from the water. The next thing Miyuki knew, the bathing room was essentially rented out for her and Minami’s private use.

“I wonder what on earth that was all about…?” murmured Miyuki.

Next to her, Minami sighed covertly. She understood exactly how they felt. To be honest, she didn’t want to bathe with Miyuki, either. She’d inadvertently realized it when they’d met up next to the bathtub. It would be one thing if Miyuki just made you feel inferior as a woman—but with her shaking your very identity as a woman, anyone would probably want to run away.

Minami began to have concerns, though misdirected, about whether this constituted an obstruction of business…

“Well, that’s all right. Now we can take our time.”

Minami, though extremely reluctantly, agreed with her assessment. With everyone watching the ice princess, they’d end up seeing Minami as well, since she was next to her. Unlike Miyuki, she wasn’t used to being watched. She was certainly attractive enough in her own right, but she didn’t possess the kind of intense features that would steal not only the attentions of the opposite sex but that of the same sex as well.

“Ahhh, this is nice…”

Beside her, Miyuki let out a sigh.

Minami gave a start—no, a shudder.

“Oh? What’s wrong, Minami? Are you cold? …Maybe the water is a bit lukewarm.”

She wasn’t cold. Just the opposite—her body was heating up.

“You should get in deeper. It’s not actually that good for your body, but just until it warms you up.”

That was a misunderstanding. She wanted to get out of the water as soon as possible. But when Miyuki placed a hand on her shoulder, for some reason, she couldn’t fight it. It was just a gentle press, but Minami’s body sank into the tub.

Seeing Minami going down to her shoulders like she told her to, Miyuki smiled sweetly, satisfied. Minami’s mind shook. And that was not because of any bath-dizziness or weariness.

When Minami emerged from the hot spring with a strangely exhausted look on her face while accompanied by a completely refreshed Miyuki, Tatsuya cocked his head at them in puzzlement before they finally departed the hotel. Their stay had actually come with dinner, but they didn’t have quite enough time for that.

As they got out of the limousine in front of the station, Minoru glanced at them as though reluctant to part.

“…Goodbye, then. I had fun today,” he said, making it clear that he wasn’t only saying that to be polite.

“You were a big help to us, too,” answered Tatsuya, speaking for all three of them.

This time, Minoru gave them a puppy-dog look—an expression that would have made any lady of a marriageable age lose her mind. “Will we be able to see each other again?”

“Our business isn’t over, so we’ll be revisiting in the near future. I think we’ll ask for your help again when that happens.”

“Yes, by all means! Ask anything you want, and I’ll help with it as long as I’m able.”

“Thanks. All right, till next time.”

“Yes! I’ll be looking forward to it.”

Using a promise of reunion instead of more formal parting phrases, Tatsuya and the others said their goodbyes.

After returning to Tokyo, the trio ate out for dinner and then went home. Once he was back in his room, Tatsuya quickly realized he had a message waiting, asking him to return a call—and not on the house’s terminal, but on his personal one.

It was Fujibayashi.

Reflecting on how often he was contacting her, he dialed her private number.

“Oh, Tatsuya? Welcome home.”

It felt weird for someone on the other end of the call to say welcome home. Even today, when he could see her face on the video call.

“I’m sorry for my lateness, Fujibayashi. Are you still at the Kudou estate?”

Especially with her being in the place he’d visited before.

“Yes—how did you know?”

“Just a hunch.”

“Really, now? I thought for sure you were hacking my locational data.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t have the skills you do. Anyway, would you happen to be calling about the thing that happened today?”

“Yes—that thing.” Thinking his caution cute, the lady smiled. “The people who attacked you this afternoon.”

He didn’t complain about her spelling it out. Fujibayashi not caring about the act of eavesdropping was a guarantee of the line’s security. “Did you find out who they were?”

“Yes, though I’m sure you already know.”

“Traditionalist ancient magicians?”

“Well, it’s not a hard guess to make, I suppose,” she said, sounding bored.

“But that isn’t the last of it, right?” asked Tatsuya with confidence—implying if that was all she had, she wouldn’t have called in the first place.

“I suppose not. Make no mistake, we know for sure your attackers were a Traditionalist unit. But there were defected Taoists from the mainland among them.” Fujibayashi frowned particularly strongly for some reason. “Some were the Taoists the Kudou family had been protecting for the Parasidoll development. We knew they’d run to the Traditionalists, but not that they’d show up in a place like that.”

“Wasn’t that something you’d predicted?”

“Well, yes, but…” Fujibayashi nodded, her face sour at Tatsuya’s remark. “Inviting magicians into our camp with a high chance of turning into enemies, then having them sabotage us just like we feared, and then even letting them make a clean getaway… And to make matters worse, letting them be involved in an attack on not only civilians, but minors… It makes me wonder what on earth the Kudou family is even doing.”

“Your point about us being minors aside, I can’t sincerely claim we’re civilians, but I digress. Minoru was attacked, too, so I, at least, don’t have any intention of blaming the Kudou for it.”

“I see… Can’t do anything about it now, I guess.” Fujibayashi shook her head a little. By doing so, she changed the mood; then she ran a comb through her disheveled hair. “The reason I wanted you to call me was so I could apologize for another matter.”

“Apologize to me?”

“Yes. I really should have been the one to call you, but I didn’t know when that would be.”

“I don’t mind that at all. Did something happen you needed to apologize for?”

Tatsuya wasn’t playing dumb—he didn’t actually know what she meant. Fujibayashi looked very uncomfortable, so something bad must have happened, but he didn’t have a clue what.

“It’s regarding the attack today. It was firmly under the intelligence department’s jurisdiction.”

Suddenly, Fujibayashi’s tone changed into that of a formal soldier.

“I see, Lieutenant. How might that be related to me, then?”

Erasing her expression—trying hard to make a poker face—Fujibayashi answered, “What this means is that the 101^st Brigade cannot intervene in this matter. It goes without saying that the Independent Magic Battalion can’t, either.”

But unfortunately, her voice wasn’t included in that “poker face.”

“I’m sorry, Tatsuya,” she said, seeming sincerely ashamed. “We’ve done nothing but take advantage of you lately, and now we can’t help in your time of need.”

Still, Tatsuya couldn’t quite understand what she was so worried about. “I don’t believe this is something you need to be concerned about, ma’am. And in terms of taking advantage of me—well, I’ve used your help on numerous occasions as well.”

“No, the situation is different than what it has been. This time, they’re after you personally.”

“That’s neither your fault nor the major’s, ma’am. In fact, if that’s the reason, then I couldn’t bring myself to cause trouble for the unit.”

Unease appeared on Fujibayashi’s face. To her, it felt like he was saying that his own bodily safety didn’t matter.

“Look…” she said, her tone reverting from Second Lieutenant Fujibayashi to just Fujibayashi. “Can’t you ask for Yakumo-sensei’s help?”

Tatsuya looked back dubiously at his commander on the screen. “I already have. I’m having him secretly keep watch over my friends from school and their families.”

“No, not that.” Fujibayashi looked more than impatient now—she seemed a little annoyed. “Why not ask him for a bodyguard for you personally? And if you don’t want someone protecting you, then at least Miyuki or Minami.”

And, in truth, she was a bit annoyed with Tatsuya for not understanding her.

“You may have forgotten, Lieutenant Fujibayashi, but Miyuki already has a bodyguard. That role belongs to me and Minami, ma’am.”

When Fujibayashi tried to sputter out something more, Tatsuya cut her off with his eyes from across the camera. “And I don’t plan on involving Master any further in this, either.”

“Why not?” she asked, a little calm back in her voice.

“Master’s connection to both the Kudou and the Traditionalists runs too deep, ma’am. If he gets any more involved, at worst, it’s possible his fellow ninjutsu users may also begin to move. Even Mount Hiei might act. At that point, it would essentially start an internal conflict. Even the Clans Conference might not be able to calm things down.”

She must not have thought of that possibility. While she was at a loss for an argument, Tatsuya kept talking to shut down any preemptively.

“If that happens, it will only give a bigger opening for whoever’s behind Gongjin Zhou.”

“…You’re saying someone’s pulling the strings?”

“That would be more natural, wouldn’t it, ma’am?” he pointed out.

On the other side of the screen, Fujibayashi mulled something over for a bit. “Right. The leader of an organization will only march to the field if his maneuverings have reached their final phase or if they’ve been driven to the brink of destruction… You think Gongjin Zhou isn’t the mastermind himself, don’t you?”

“If he was the mastermind, this would be easy. We’d just have to find him and finish him. The issue is the possibilities. I believe it would be foolish to put everything else at risk just to lower the risk to myself, ma’am.”

“I’d think it’s only natural for a person to prioritize his own safety…”

“Second Lieutenant Fujibayashi.”

She cast her gaze downward at the criticism in his voice. “…All right. But if you ever feel as though you’re seriously in danger, make sure to contact me. Military regulations do allow personnel the right to act in order to protect their own lives.”

“Understood, ma’am.”

Tatsuya got up and responded with a salute. It wasn’t particularly sarcastic—it was to set Fujibayashi’s mind at ease by telling her he would act as a member of their unit should it come to that.