Hollow Dragon Devil Ice Blade Hero of Seidoukan Academy

by Gaevontracey24

Yukio Amagiri is a kind hearted person with Silver hair and dark red eyes to the Hottest girls of Asterisk and fight a lot of enemies and Hollows along with his mysterious family past which allows him to wield a legendary demonic sword. Harem with Julis being the main girl.

11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"Did we…win?" Julis murmured, falling to her knees in disbelief. When the protective gel surrounding the stage was deactivated, a deafening roar of cheers descended upon Yukio and the others, followed by the impassioned voices of the announcer and commentator.

"Th-that's it! What a conclusion! The winner is Seidoukan Academy's Team Enfield!"

"This certainly is an unexpected victory. To be perfectly honest, there should have been a significant difference in ability between Contestant Toudou and Contestant Wu, and yet…"

"…Elder Brother…" Hufeng, standing across from Yukio, looked as if he couldn't believe what had just happened.

"…" Even so, judging by his expression, it was Xiaohui who was the most surprised of all.

"I… I lost… I see…" Watching him murmur those brief words to himself, Yukio felt that he had seen Xiaohui exhibit something resembling honest emotion for the first time. It was a meager, fragmentary change, but there was unmistakably something different about him now compared to when he had first entered the stage.

At that moment, Kirin staggered weakly and lost her balance.

"Kirin!" Yukio rushed over to catch her just before she could hit the ground.

She seemed to be completely sapped of energy, but even so, she gave him a brave smile.

"Th-thank you, Yukio… Did we…? Did we win?"

"Thanks to you!" Yukio beamed.

"You were amazing, Kirin!" But then he noticed something was wrong. Her eyes were out of focus, her voice terribly weak.

"I—I see… Thank…goodness… But still… Why is everything…so…bright?"

"Kirin! Kirin!" Just as she lost consciousness—

"Oh-ho, fret not." The voice was by no means loud enough to bury the roar of the crowd.

On the contrary, it was soft and childish, with a light, mellow ring.

Yukio turned toward it reflexively, to see a void in the center of the stage, as if the air itself had been ripped open.

From it emerged the figure of a girl.

"Xinglou…!"

"…Huh? Huh? Whaaat? Wh-what's this? A child has appeared in the middle of the stage…!"

"Oh… It's the Ban'yuu Tenra…" Compared to Mico's flustered voice, Hiiragi's was a strange mix of resignation and curiosity.

"Th-the Ban'yuu Tenra?! Now that you mention it, that girl does look like Jie Long's number one, Xinglou Fan! Wh-why on earth could someone normally so reclusive enter the stage now…? No, no, before that—how did she enter the stage…?" Mico exclaimed, coming out with one question after another.

A commotion was beginning to ferment among the spectators, too. Xinglou, however, paid them all no heed.

"She has looked into the vein of life," the girl—Xinglou—explained with a hint of admiration as she stared at Kirin's motionless face.

"The sight will have been burned into her eyes. She should return to normal within two or three days." "The vein of life…?" Ayato repeated. "Clairvoyance—the ability to read one's intentions, only discernible through their prana. She no doubt read Xiaohui's every move," Xinglou explained. Ayato didn't understand. "You mean…like the Pan-Dora's precognition?"

"No." Xinglou shook her head. "That Orga Lux reveals the future of the world. That is what makes it such a powerful weapon for gathering information. No, what she saw isn't the future of the world, but just one's intentions. You could think of it more like mind reading."

"So she knew what he was going to do because it's what he wanted?" "Exactly. She knew how he wanted to act," Xinglou said with a nod, her lips pursed.

"It's a formidable natural talent. To think that she can do this much without proper training… To be honest, not even I suspected she would come this far. If someone like me was to recklessly come into contact with someone like her, overflowing with talent polished through her own efforts, I could end up breaking her. I intended to leave her alone until she had fully ripened, but now that she's here, I can hardly resist taking such a fragrant treat…"

"…I think I can say on her behalf that she isn't interested." Ayato tightened his grip on Kirin, narrowing his eyes at the child.

"I'm not fool enough to pluck a budding flower before it blooms."

"…More importantly, is she going to be okay?"

Kirin hadn't budged an inch since losing consciousness. Her breathing seemed to have come under control, but her complexion wasn't good, and she seemed completely sapped.

"Even with training, looking into the flow of life requires great exertion. This is what happens when you overdo it, as she did. Think of it like exhausting your prana. Her life isn't in danger, but it's no less serious than a physical injury. You should take her somewhere to recover."

"…Got it. Thank you, Xinglou." In that case, it would be better to wait for the first-aid staff to come to them rather than try to move her himself. Saya, it seemed, had lost consciousness as well and was being seen to by Claudia.

"…Master…" The five members of Team Yellow Dragon had assembled behind Xinglou and were kneeling reverently.

"I'm truly sorry for this defeat," Xiaohui said as the team's representative, his head bowed.

"Oh-ho, I don't recall instructing you to win. What I wanted in exchange for teaching you was for you to satisfy me. You knew that."

"Even so…," Xiaohui began, his voice and face stiff. Xinglou looked down at him with a joyful grin.

"Oh-ho! Listen up, Xiaohui! This was my first time seeing that expression on you. Yes, it wasn't victory I wanted… But that's different from you not seeking victory." With that, she narrowed her eyes, a cool chill entering her voice.

"You have a brilliant mind, Xiaohui. Whether it's martial arts or seisenjutsu, you absorb anything that comes your way. You're faithful to my teachings, and you've never opposed me. Yes, you're a truly excellent disciple. But unfortunately, I've no interest in doting on mere puppets."

"…" Xiaohui listened on in silence, his gaze directed at the ground.

"Your techniques are mine—faithfully reproduced, yes, but not developed, not made your own. I suppose it's clear by now that you're not interested in moving beyond that point. You're only trying to satisfy me, only trying to meet my expectations. You don't do it for yourself. There's no satisfaction to be found in training with someone like that, someone who can't be tempered into something greater."

"Master…" Only now did Xiaohui move, tilting his head to stare up at Xinglou. His face was like that of a child watching his mother bid farewell.

"Do you understand why I like your tea? Because that's the only thing that you've mastered for yourself, that you've studied for yourself, that you've cultivated for yourself." At these words, Xiaohui's eyes opened wide.

"However, defeat is humiliating. That is for the best. Now you have a reason to want to free yourself from that which binds you."

"But, master! I—"

"I appreciate your loyalty, but you should be a person, not a doll," Xinglou interrupted with a gentle shake of her head.

"If you won't do that, you'll never satisfy me."

"…Yes, master."

"Mm-hm." Xinglou nodded before turning her gaze back to Yukio.

"Now I must express my gratitude to that girl—Kirin Toudou. She has my thanks for besting this one here. She fought splendidly."

(The Next Day before The Final Match)

"Hmm, hmm, hmm…" Sylvia hummed to herself as she strolled through the corridor on the top floor of Queenvale Academy for Young Ladies' Twin Hall.

She was happier than she had found herself in a long time.

That wasn't just because Yukio's Team Enfield had made it through to the championship, nor simply because all his efforts thus far had paid off. No, those things were, of course, wonderful; but even more than that, she was overjoyed by the fact that they were now viewed not as toys, but dangers, to the IEFs. In Asterisk, the integrated enterprise foundations were practically the world, and it was all but impossible to oppose them. She couldn't be more grateful to Yukio and the others for proving that, no matter how calculating they were, no matter how much they thought they could treat their students as mere tools, that it was indeed possible to strike back.

She was thrilled beyond words.

"…And you were pretty cool, too, Yukio." Their semifinal match had been a fierce one, and Yukio had been on the back foot against Hagun Seikun from the very beginning—but then love, as they say, is blind to one's imperfections.

She was, of course, worried about Kirin Toudou's injuries, but according to the official announcement released just a short while ago, her life wasn't in danger, though it was unlikely she would be able to compete in the championship. It would be difficult to win against Team Lancelot fighting one member short, but given how Yukio and the others had overcome every obstacle thus far, Sylvia remained hopeful.

I'll have to go cheer them on! she thought as she reached the office of Queenvale's executive chairwoman, Petra Kivilehto, knocking quietly on the door as she tried to make her face appear normal.

"Petra, can I come in?" The door opened without a sound. As she entered the room—

"I suppose congratulations are in order," Petra called out.

"…What are you talking about?" The older woman's voice was as cool and composed as ever, rendering her emotions all but unreadable. She was standing in front of a wide window overlooking the brightly lit nighttime cityscape, staring at Sylvia through the visor covering her eyes.

"Your friend, Yukio Amagiri, and his team made it through to the championship, after all," she continued.

"Oh, that," she replied, her composure slipping. She put her hands on her hips, trying to keep her elation from showing too much. "Yes, they did. But you didn't call me here just to say that, did you?" At this, Petra merely opened an air-window in total silence, casting it toward her.

"And this is?" The air-window showed the faces of several Queenvale students.

"They're members of Benetnasch… Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that they were members of Benetnasch." Claudia's expression suddenly stiffened. "What do you mean?"

"I decided to do some digging of my own into that organization—the Golden Bough Alliance. I was having them look into it."

"…Why is this the first I've heard about it?"

The Golden Bough Alliance: a mysterious organization that seemed to have something to do with her former teacher, Ursula Svend. There was no direct evidence proving its existence, but according to Petra, the name had been picked up by Queenvale's intelligence networks after Sylvia had intensified her search for her missing friend—or more specifically, after she had begun looking into Orga Luxes.

That being the case, the two couldn't be unrelated. Even so, Sylvia had been unable to locate either Ursula or anyone else related to the organization. And a name alone wasn't enough to do anything. But it looked like Petra had done some digging of her own.

"You do know that I'm under no obligation to report this to you, don't you?" Sylvia almost flared up at Petra's curt manner of speaking, but she forced herself to keep her cool. Under any other circumstances, she would have been able to brush such comments aside without worry, but things were different when it came to Ursula. Petra ought to have understood that, which meant she was intentionally trying to provoke her.

"…Hmm. It looks like you're calm enough to talk about this sensibly," Petra remarked.

"Will you stop trying to test me?" Sylvia couldn't bring herself to be angry. She, too, was under no obligation to report to her, and had yet to tell her about her encounter with Ursula—or at least, the person who had once been Ursula—at the Gran Colosseo. She wasn't exactly sure why she was so reluctant to involve the woman, but it no doubt had something to do with that mysterious Orga Lux. So in a way, they were both keeping secrets from each other.

That said, since Petra was monitoring Sylvia's actions, at least to some extent, it was possible she already knew something. In that respect, Petra undeniably had an advantage.

"This is a dangerous matter, Sylvie. I still haven't been able to find the whereabouts of those girls."

"And you gave such a dangerous job to Benetnasch?" Queenvale's intelligence organization specialized in the control and manipulation of information and wasn't as proficient as those of the other schools when it came to combat or subterfuge.

When something called for a genuinely dangerous investigation, it was better to call in their integrated enterprise foundation's own forces—as Galaxy had done just the other day.

"For now, I've merely been looking into things myself. If I wanted to involve anyone higher than Benetnasch, I would need the authorization of the board of directors. But I'll admit now that I underestimated this Alliance…" Despite her words, Petra's tone remained cool and detached.

"I have been able to learn one thing, however. It seems that someone called Lamina Mortis, the Blade of Death, is involved with this Golden Bough Alliance in some capacity."

"…Lamina Mortis?"

"He used to be a regular contestant in the Eclipse."

"—!" Sylvia's eyes opened wide in surprise before narrowing in suspicion. "What's this? You're willing to tell me about the Eclipse now?" Sylvia and Petra—or technically, the integrated enterprise foundation W&W—had a contractual relationship.

Sylvia's goal was, it went without saying, to locate Ursula, and while W&W would monitor any actions that she undertook to that end, they would neither interfere nor cooperate. In exchange, she worked for Queenvale as a songstress, both promoting the school and producing considerable income for it.

Sylvia had long since surmised that the IEFs knew much more about the Eclipse than they let on, but there was no way that Petra would have divulged that to her. At least, that had been the way of things until now.

"I decided that it would be in your best interests to know this. So that you understand just how dangerous what you're doing really is."

"…" Sylvia had her doubts whether that was the real reason but resolved to listen on in silence.

"You may have misunderstood this, but what W&W knows about the Eclipse is only a small part of the equation.

Danilo Bertoni was the one who organized it, and he did it in a way that, in principle, there would be no direct relationship leading back to the foundations.

Because no matter how you look at it, that event was clearly overkill. It would reflect poorly on anyone who got tied up in it."

"In principle…? So there was some kind of connection?"

"It appears that some people went there as spectators." Sylvia wasn't particularly surprised by this revelation.

"To the extent that the foundations were willing to tolerate its existence, there was some utility value to the Eclipse," Petra continued.

"It had a number of passionate enthusiasts, you see. Anyway, after Danilo died, and the Eclipse was exposed by the city guard, the foundations had the investigation shut down to keep those connections from getting out. Danilo worked for Solnage, after all, and they didn't want to be tarnished by his actions. But more than that, there seems to have been some secret that all the foundations, to one extent or another, wanted to keep from getting out…"

"That's enough." Sylvia didn't want to hear any more. She already felt slightly tainted.

"What does that have to do with this Lamina Mortis?"

"I'm afraid that not even we know the details. In principle, like in the Festa, contestants in the Eclipse had to be students at one of the schools, but there seem to have been cases where they would compete against other fighters selected by the organizers. Lamina Mortis seems to have been one of those."

"…Was he strong?"

"As strong as his name suggests." Lamina Mortis—it was enough to make her hair stand on end. Sylvia had tried to look into the Eclipse herself, but all she had learned was that patronage was restricted to a select number of highly discerning individuals, while participation was limited only to those of a corresponding level of prowess.

"A battle against Lamina Mortis was more execution than anything else. It seems that his cruelty and savagery made him particularly popular among the Eclipse's sponsors. Although, he didn't make an appearance particularly often." Sylvia couldn't bring herself to respond. It sounded like the lowest kind of event imaginable.

"As I said, participation wasn't limited to students. This Lamina Mortis seems to have been a somewhat older man. He always covered his face with a mask, so no one seems to know his true identity. Based on his skill, however, he must be a well-known fighter of some sort."

"…A mask?" Sylvia repeated dubiously.

Maybe things had been different in the distant past, but in this day and age, Sylvia couldn't help but wonder whether it was really possible to hide one's identity that way.

She herself often went out in disguise and understood that the key to remaining hidden was to not draw attention to oneself, to hide one's presence and blend into the crowd.

With a little bit of effort, that wasn't particularly difficult.

That assumed, however, that one wasn't already the focus of people's attention.

If the Eclipse's patrons were as discerning as Petra said, any attempt at disguise would no doubt merely foster further intrigue.

And if this Lamina Mortis was indeed famous, then a mask wouldn't be able to hide his build or height nor, for that matter, his individual fighting style.

"Anyway, this is my second piece of advice. The darkness that you're trying to penetrate goes much deeper than you think."

For once, there was an unusual tinge of emotion in her voice. As per the terms of their contract, Petra was unable to try to stop Sylvia.

She understood that well enough. Nor would she be able to persuade her into giving up on her search.

But she could, perhaps, help her to understand just what she was getting into.

If what she said was true, both that mysterious Orga Lux and this Lamina Mortis were involved in what had happened to Ursula in some way.

The Golden Bough Alliance…

Sylvia glanced to the side, casting her gaze through the window to the cityscape below as a cold chill ran up her spine.

"…Hagun Seikun was strong. I don't think I've fought anyone that strong since my last practice duel with you. Still, Kirin beat him. She really is amazing." Yukio was trying to keep his mind occupied by relating all manner of things to his comatose sister.

He told her about the day's events, fond memories he had with her, his friends—practically anything that came to mind. But even he was aware that, at times like this, he must have come across as incredibly childish.

Of course, Haruka, lying in her hospital bed, didn't respond to any of it.

"And then everyone kept saying how much they want to meet you. Saya, in particular, was disappointed at not being able to come here yet. But if she could come, I'm sure it would be you who would be the surprised one. She really hasn't changed at all since then…"

He stopped there, unable to go on. A strange melancholy fell over him every time he came here to see her. It was an indescribable feeling, a sense of relief and fondness, mixed in with an inescapable touch of unease. Haruka hadn't changed at all from how he remembered her, from how she had been the last time they had spoken.

But that was seven years ago, and of course, Yukio had grown considerably since then. He was now practically an adult. He had changed, but she remained the same. He couldn't help but feel as if they had become irreparably estranged. If she were to wake up and see him as he was today, what kind of face would she make, what would she say?

"…I'd better get going, Haru," he said, getting up from his chair.

Even so, that didn't change the fact that the wish most dear to him was to find a way to awaken her. Which was why he had no choice but to win tomorrow's match.

"Hmm…?" He glanced around as he stepped out of his sister's hospital room. He'd thought he had heard something, but there was no one in sight. He was in a special, underground section of the hospital, accessible only by a very select few individuals.

He had come there countless times before, but the only time he had ever seen anyone else down there was when he had first been shown around. And yet…

"—!" He suddenly noticed a presence in the shadows of the corridor far ahead of him, and all but reflexively, he adopted a defensive posture. The figure, dressed in a hooded robe, clearly wasn't one of the hospital staff. On top of that, Yukio had met this person before.

"You…!" It was the same woman who had attacked Sylvia during the Gran Colosseo, her former teacher, Ursula Svend—or at least, the body of Ursula Svend.

"Stop," the hooded figure said impassively as Ayato reached for the Ser Veresta. "I have no quarrel with you."

"…Then what do you want?" Yukio could hardly accept that her presence here was a coincidence.

"Follow me. There's someone who wants to see you," she said before heading off down the corridor. After a brief moment of hesitation, Yukio made up his mind.

He knew he should contact Sylvia, but he himself still didn't understand the situation. There would no doubt be unforeseen consequences if either acted rashly.

So he resolved to follow after the hooded figure alone. It might have been the middle of the night, but even so, there was something unnatural about the fact that there was no one else around. Perhaps the woman simply knew the hospital so well as to avoid bumping into anyone else, but something seemed inexplicably off.

"…Here," she said, coming to a stop outside a large courtyard. The space was almost the size of a small park. Amid the lush, welltended trees stood a lone, masked man.

"Welcome, Yukio Amagiri." There was something familiar about his voice, his figure, though Yukio couldn't pinpoint exactly what. He was sure he knew that man, and yet, for some reason, the name wouldn't come to mind, as if a haze lay heavy over his thoughts.

"Ah, you needn't bother trying to see through the mask. This place is under my friend's control. You won't be able to recognize me here." Yukio found it hard to believe the man's words, and yet, he had spoken so assuredly.

The woman had indeed demonstrated some kind of mind control the last time he had encountered her, but to think that it was strong enough to affect one's sense of recognition…

"Strictly speaking, I don't even need the mask. Think of it more as a matter of style… Well then, let me introduce myself. When I wear this mask, I go by the name of Lamina Mortis."

"Lamina Mortis…"

"And this is Varda, my associate," he added, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Varda, expressionless, immediately brushed that hand aside, glaring up at her companion. "Hurry up and get it over with. I have other things to do."

"All right, all right, there's no need to be in such a hurry," Mortis said with a shrug and a smirk.

"…What do you want with me?" Yukio asked, tightening his grip on the Ser Veresta's activator so he could act at a moment's notice.

"Oh, it's nothing major. I wanted to give you a hand."

"Give me a hand?" Yukio furrowed his brow.

"As things stand, your team is in a bad place ahead of tomorrow's championship. You understand that, don't you?"

"—!" All of a sudden, Yukio released his energy, activating the Ser Veresta—but for some reason, its blade was quivering slightly, and it seemed to be giving off a faint noise. It almost seemed as it if was trying to warn him of something. It's reacting to them…?

"Speaking for myself, I'm on your side here. I'd only be too happy to see you take the crown at this year's Gryps," the man continued. A Lux had appeared in his hands, too, from which a huge crimson blade slowly emerged.

No… It was no regular Lux. Yukio had never seen it before in person, but staring at it now, he couldn't be surer.

It was an Orga Lux, and like his own Ser Veresta, one of the famed Four Colored Runeswords.

"…The Raksha-Nada!"

The Blade of Red Mist was supposed to have been sealed away. Yukio had no idea why it was in the possession of the man in front of him, but this was no time to worry about that. The glowing weapon, like a sudden gale, came rushing toward him. Taken aback by the sudden ferocity of the attack, Yukio hurried to defend himself with the Ser Veresta.

"Ugh…!" The impact was heavy—and so powerful as to leave his arms numb. The paving stones at his feet began to crack as he braced to keep himself from being overcome.

"How is this supposed to be giving me a hand?!" Yukio shouted. Their swords still locked, Lamina Mortis said nothing, merely flashing him a composed smile, until all of a sudden, he pulled away and lashed out from another direction.

Yukio managed to dodge the oncoming crimson blur, but Mortis quickly flowed into a second, then a third attack, forcing him to remain on the defensive.

Both the Raksha-Nada and the Ser Veresta were relatively large weapons, so there could be little denying that Lamina Mortis, with his superior physique, had the advantage.

On top of that, he was more skilled at a technical level, too.

Damn it… Why do they all have to come at once?! Yesterday, it had been Bujinsai Yabuki, today, Xiaohui Wu, and now this guy—each far stronger than he was. Moreover, his current opponent seemed to be no less formidable than Xiaohui Wu. Yukio was having a hard time even gauging the depths of his abilities.

"Why are you doing this?!" Yukio demanded over the clashing of their blades. Lamina Mortis's lips curled in a faint smile.

"I told you, didn't I? I'm giving you a hand," he answered calmly. Yukio was sure he had heard that voice before, but to his frustration, his memories just wouldn't piece together.

"Then, stop this! I don't have any reason to fight you!" Yukio called out as he repelled the Raksha-Nada once more and took a few steps back.

His breathing ragged, he glanced at his surroundings.

Fortunately, there didn't appear to be anyone else around.

In that case, escape was always an option.

Given the match tomorrow, he couldn't afford to waste any more energy.

"Hmm, no reason, you say…? Very well. Then how about this?" Lamina Mortis said softly as he lowered the Raksha-Nada.

"It was I who cut down your sister."

"—!" At that moment, Yukio's vision turned bloodred.

"What did you just say?" His body trembled as an uncontrollable ferocity began to well up from deep inside him.

"I was a regular contestant in the Eclipse. Then, six years ago, I faced your sister in the arena… I'm sure you know the rest." Yukio didn't even wait for him to finish before launching himself toward the man. He shortened the distance between them in the blink of an eye, slashing downward from above.

"What do we have here…?" There was a touch of admiration in Lamina Mortis's voice as he parried the attack.

"Keep talking! Tell me what happened…!"

"Heh-heh, impressive! So you know enough to keep your anger in check, letting it fuel but not overcome you. Haru and Chi trained you very well." The man's baiting, however, only managed to inflame Yukio's rage further, leading him to lash out with a flurry of thrusts and slashes.

"But now that it's come to this…," Mortis murmured under his breath as he effortlessly parried each and every attack.

"I suppose I have no choice…" Yukio ground his teeth together in rage as he made the Ser Veresta move faster still—yet, the blade didn't even come close to grazing his opponent. "Argh!"

"What's stopping you? Strike me down. If you defeat me, you'll finally be able to learn everything you want to know, won't you?" Mortis called out, holding the Raksha-Nada in one hand. His voice sounded almost as if he were trying to test him. But no, this isn't a test… Yukio drove the thought from his mind. He had to keep his focus on what was in front of him. If he divided his attention, that would be the end for him. He had already released his full energy once today. He still had a little left in him, but he wouldn't be able to drag it out. In that case… He knew it was a reckless move, but he stepped forward anyway.

"Amagiri Shinmei Style, Middle Technique—Nine-Fanged Blade!" A ninefold sequence of five thrusts and four slashing strikes.

"Oh?" Lamina Mortis, however, parried each of the attacks singlehanded. Not only that, but no sooner had Yukio completed the technique than his opponent drove a powerful kick into his abdomen, sending him crashing across the paving stones.

"Ughn…!" He picked himself up immediately, but his breathing was ragged, his heart racing. His opponent was too strong. Exhausted from consecutive battles, Ayato was on the verge of being overpowered. Even so, I can't let this chance go! He mustered his remaining strength, bracing himself with the Ser Veresta, when he noticed that the blade was once again trembling and emitting that faint noise. "Huh…?"

"What…?" Lamina Mortis muttered as well, glancing at his own blade. And that was when— "Now, what do we have here?" —Yukio followed the relaxed voice that had come from the edge of the courtyard to see a young man armed with a burning-white Orga Lux strolling toward them.

"Ernest Fairclough…" Yukio stared in surprise at the figure of the approaching young man. Ernest, the Lei-Glems clasped tightly in his hand, came to a stop beside him with a charismatic smile.

"What a coincidence, Amagiri. I didn't think I'd find you in a place like this. Now then," he began, his expression turning serious as he cast his gaze toward Mortis.

"What's going on here?" His voice was much colder than Yukio was used to hearing, and Yukio found himself swallowing his breath at the intimidating aura radiating from him. So this is what Pendragon is like when he's serious… He's a completely different person than at the Gran Colosseo. Lamina Mortis, however, completely unperturbed, merely called out to Varda:

"I thought I asked you to clear this place out?"

"…Don't be unreasonable," she answered in an almost-mechanical voice.

"You know that mind control and isolation boundaries aren't fully compatible with each other. It might be possible to maintain both against an average person, but not against someone like this."

"Oh dear, are you ignoring me? But maybe trying to dissuade someone who would ambush a contestant the day before an important match was doomed from the start?" Ernest lowered the tip of the Lei-Glems toward Lamina Mortis.

"Be careful. He's stronger than he lets on," Yukio whispered as he readied the Ser Veresta. "I guessed as much from your exchange… Is that the Raksha-Nada?" Ernest, it seemed, was sharp-eyed.

On closer inspection, the crimson blade was letting out a faint buzzing sound much like those of the Lei-Glems and Ser Veresta. "This is an important occasion. It may well be the first time in all of Asterisk's history that we've had three of the Four Colored Runeswords gathered in one place. I would very much love to savor this moment…but I'm afraid it's time." With that, Lamina Mortis returned the Raksha-Nada to its holder before leaping backward into the distance.

"I can't say it went according to plan, but I've achieved my purpose here," he called out.

"I look forward to tomorrow's match!"

"Wait!" Ayato shouted as he attempted to leap after the departing figure, when Varda appeared in his path. "

You'll remain here," she said, the piece of manadite—no, urmmanadite—inlaid in the necklace at her breast letting out a deep, jetblack light.

So Sylvia was right…

It looked like she had hit the mark in surmising that it was an Orga Lux that had usurped Ursula's body.

Its ability was no doubt mind control, and the cost of using it was the loss of one's own body.

"Ernest! Watch out for that black light!" Yukio, having already faced her once, called out in warning.

He readied himself to counterattack with the Ser Veresta, but the black light soon began to wrap around its urm-manadite core. He couldn't tell what would happen if he followed through with it.

However— "No need to worry!" Ernest answered, as with a brilliant flash, the Lei-Glems cut straight through the black light.

"—!" That's…"

While they differed in their specific abilities, each of the Four Colored Runeswords was essentially impossible to defend against. That being the case, it shouldn't have come as a surprise that he had been able to dispel her ability.

"These Runeswords, breaking through my abilities whenever they please…," Varda murmured darkly as she gathered yet more black light into both hands, the writhing shadow quickly taking the form of a huge ax.

At that moment, Yukio attempted to leap past her in pursuit of Lamina Mortis.

Once again, however, she blocked his advance before rushing toward him with her ax of black lightning. Yukio tried to fend her off, but the force of the impact went far beyond what he had been expecting. "Ugh…"

"Amagiri!" Ernest tried to fight his way through to him, but Varda blocked him. Ernest successfully evaded her counterattack, but as he did so, his face turned pale with shock.

"This… This is no ordinary lady…" Yukio had assumed that mind control was her only ability, but that had been a mistake. They could forget about taking her on individually—she was skilled enough to hold them both back simultaneously.

"Unlike my previous body, this one knows how to hold its own in a fight. Don't take it lightly." Of course. Ursula Svend had taught Queenvale's number-one fighter and the runner-up from the last Lindvolus. He should have expected that she would be a formidable opponent. And yet—

"You are indeed strong. Frankly speaking, I'm impressed…," Ernest said. "And yet, I doubt you can win against us both." Right. There was no doubting Varda's skill, but she wasn't at the level of Lamina Mortis. Yukio had only faced him the once, but that was clear enough.

"Indeed. I could take either of you alone, but not together," Varda admitted without hesitation.

"But that doesn't concern me. He should be long gone by now. In which case… There's no need for me to keep this area sealed off." No sooner had she finished speaking than the strange, oppressive feeling that enveloped them lifted. Ernest seemed to have noticed it as well.

"That's…," he began as he glanced around in suspicion.

At that moment, Varda released a burst of black light more intense than any Yukio had seen before.

A ferocious pain tore through his skull, sending him crashing to his knees. So that's how much power she was putting into her boundary…!

The fact that she had turned it all against him now meant she was serious this time.

"Argh…" Ernest carved the Lei-Glems through the cloud of black light, but for what seemed like the longest time, it refused to abate. When finally the pain stopped, Varda was nowhere to be seen.

"…Dear me. Are you all right?" Ernest asked as he held out his hand.

"I think so," Yukio answered as he was helped to his feet.

"I've contacted the city guard, so they shouldn't be too long now. You can tell me what that was about once they arrive."

"Sorry to get you caught up in all this," Yukio answered, his head bowed.

"But thanks. If not for your help…" To be honest, he had no idea what might have happened if Ernest hadn't shown up. Ernest, however, gave him a brilliant, almost-sparkling smile as he shook his head.

"Not at all. I'm just glad you weren't hurt. I'm looking forward to facing you myself tomorrow, after all."

"…Me too." Yukio grinned back. But at the same time, he was filled with questions. True, with the exception of the damage he had taken during the semifinal, he was largely uninjured. The worst that he had received from Lamina Mortis was the kick that had thrown him to the ground.

Mortis was at least as powerful as Xiaohui Wu—and probably more so. It simply didn't make sense that Yukio had been able to face him and escape unharmed. Unless he was trying not to injure me…? But in that case, why would he have gone to all this trouble…?

Yukio had no idea what the man had been hoping to achieve. But he stopped himself was no understanding something that couldn't be understood. Even thinking about it was pointless. Instead, he directed his next question at Ernest:

"By the way… What were you doing here?" Ernest, of course, ought to have been preparing for tomorrow's match as well. Given Kirin's condition, Ayato had reason enough to visit the hospital, but Ernest's team had won their match by default, and so, they were perfectly able-bodied.

"I came to see my sister."

"Oh, Team Kaguya…," Yukio murmured, suddenly remembering the team from Queenvale that had been earmarked as this year's dark horse.

They had been soundly defeated in the quarterfinals, with several of their members sustaining major injuries.

Ernest's sister, Sophia, must have been one of them.

"As her brother, I thought I should check in," he said, his expression suddenly unreadable. "But I wonder whether I still have the right to call myself that…"

"Huh?" "I'm the reason she came to Asterisk," he said with a tired sigh.

"It sounds like she wanted to win the Festa so she could take over the Fairclough name, setting me free to live as I pleased… Such a foolish girl…"

"Setting you free…?" Ernest let out a resigned chuckle. "From the bonds of family. She was involved in an accident, a long time ago. She ended up hurting a good friend of mine. That led to a rift between my friend and me— no, between my friend's family and our own, I suppose. She still blames herself for that, it seems."

Ernest spoke quietly, but he seemed to become somewhat more animated when he said the word friend, a hint of nostalgia entering his voice.

"She—my friend— was very important to me, and there's no denying that the only time I could really feel at ease was when I was with her. So it isn't as if I can't understand Sophia's sense of guilt… But it's all in the past now."

He stopped there, setting upright a bench that must have been knocked over during the previous fight, before urging Ayato to join him.

As Yukio sat down beside him, Ernest tilted his head back to stare up at the glimmering night sky.

"I've come to accept the bonds of house and family. You could say that I've managed to tame that sense of confinement. I thought that Sophia had realized that, but I suppose it must have still looked like a burden to her."

Not once did Ernest look in his direction. He half sounded as if he were talking to himself. Even so, there was something Yukio wanted to ask.

"Is it really such a burden?" He didn't know much about the Fairclough house, nor about Ernest's particular circumstances. And yet, the young man sitting across from him had always come across as somewhat too perfect. Ernest was the kind of person whose fame seemed to just keep on rising to new heights.

Endowed with strength, kindness, nobility, and a broad-minded attitude—and with a tenure as student council president at Saint Gallardworth Academy that simply couldn't be faulted.

And yet, Yukio had a hard time believing anyone could truly live up to such lofty standards.

"No one can live apart from their surroundings. So the question is how to take control of one's circumstances. I'm fortunate enough to have been blessed with the resources necessary to do that."

It was a vague response, but the words rang true. The way Yukio saw it, there could be no doubting that Ernest would be able to meet whatever bonds or expectations that were thrust upon him—no matter whether they were born out of kindness or ill will.

"Selflessness might be the guiding principle for all of us at Gallardworth, and yet… You might not know this, because we're cautioned against putting our desires into words, but there are many among us who would like nothing more than to win at the Festa and have our selfish wishes come true."

"Huh?" Yukio stared at him blankly. He had no idea what Ernest wished for. "In that case, why are you…?"

"Some of us do it for a house or family, for example," Ernest continued. Yukio, however, still didn't understand.

"In that case…"

"You must have noticed how many of our students come from old families and supposedly noble pedigrees. It isn't at all common for Genestella to be accepted by such families. If you want to find somewhere you can belong among such people, you need to find a way to prove your worth. That is, by winning at the Festa and using your wish to benefit them in some way." Ernest's voice was startlingly cold as he spoke.

"Laetitia, Kevin, Lionel, Doroteo, Elliot— the same goes for all of them. But there are exceptions, too, I suppose. In my team, Percival seems to have a wish of her own, for instance." No one can live apart from their surroundings, Yukio repeated in silence. The words seemed to carry a strange weight.

"I've gone on a little, haven't I? Don't let what I said bother you,"

Ernest offered, flashing him a friendly smile. Footsteps could be heard gathering in the distance—the city guard, no doubt.

"Well, we might as well get this over with." With that, Ernest rose to his feet, signaling the end of the conversation.

At that moment, Helga Lindwall appeared at the edge of the courtyard, leading a squad of Stjarnagarm officers. Yukio, troubled in a way that he couldn't easily describe, rose to meet her.

The following morning, in the team's prep room at the Sirius Dome, Yukio recounted the night's events to his assembled team members.

"Wh-why are you always letting yourself get caught up in things like that?" Julis demanded angrily, but she soon trailed off. Her face turned scarlet as she mouthed something to herself in silence, then sunk limply into her chair.

"Ayato is always getting himself in trouble. You should be used to it by now, Julis," Saya said with a smug look. Claudia, however, wasn't amused. "Even so, this is going a little too far. We can't overlook it this time."

"Oh? Since when are you prone to worrying, Claudia? But only when it comes to Yukio, it seems," Saya pointed out.

"Not at all," she answered with a smile. It was clear, however, that her composure this time was entirely feigned. "Claudia… You actually look pretty cute, for once."

"I don't know how I'm supposed to feel when you say that, Julis," she answered, her expression a delicate mix of happiness and chagrin.

"Anyway," she began, clearing her throat and turning to Yukio, her countenance once again serious.

"There are things I want to ask you about that, but we should save them for later. And there's something I have to tell you all, too."

"What do you mean?" Yukio asked, but Claudia quickly cut him off.

"Later. Right now, we need to think about the match." Letting out a resigned sigh, she opened several air-windows. "This is a simulation based on my calculations…"

"…That doesn't look good," Julis grunted in concern. "It's practically a slaughterhouse," Saya added.

Meanwhile,

in Miluše's private quarters at Queenvale Academy for Young Ladies—

"Didn't you hear me—? There's no way they won't win!"

"Right, what Miluše said! Yukio Amagiri can't lose!"

"…No, no matter how you look at it, Team Lancelot has the advantage."

"Right, right! Team battles are all about your combined strength! You've already lost if you go out there shorthanded!" Miluše and Tuulia were practically shouting, their voices overflowing with confidence.

Päivi and Monica, on the other hand, looked somewhat sulky. Then there was Mahulena, caught in the middle of the two sides. "Uum, everyone, why don't we try to calm down a little…" This was, however, the usual state of business for Rusalka.

If indeed there was something that didn't feel exactly right, it was probably her own presence among them, Sylvia thought as she glanced at each of the band's members in turn as she sipped her tea. Just yesterday, she had been planning to go to the Sirius Dome in person to cheer Yukio on. That was, until late last night, when she had received a sudden phone call from Yukio. That in itself was a surprise, but the contents of the call were even more shocking. Not only had he encountered Ursula—or rather, Varda—she had been acting alongside this Lamina Mortis person.

It wasn't at all clear what the two had hoped to achieve, but it was obvious enough that Mortis was after Yukio. No sooner had she heard Varda's name than Sylvia found herself burning with impatience and frustration. She had wanted to go to Yukio at that very moment to hear everything in detail. However, the championship was just the following day, and Yukio would need to rest. She didn't lack so much self-control that she could think only about her own wants and desires. In fact, she should have been grateful to him for calling her immediately after talking to the city guard.

And yet, she still couldn't separate the two conflicting sets of emotions. If she was to go to the Sirius Dome and see Yukio, she feared she might find herself doing something that she would later was why she had thought to watch the match with her juniors in Rusalka. Their uncontrollable gaiety would, she hoped, help to bring her own impatience under control.

"Then let's ask Sylvia!" Miluše announced. The gazes of the five girls all spun toward her, pulling her back into the here and now.

"Huh? Me?"

"Yep! Who do you think will win?" Miluše beamed, leaning forward in excitement.

"Don't hold back! Sylvia didn't even need to think about it. "Team Enfield, of course."

"I knew it! See, see! Sylvia thinks so, too!" Miluše cried out, ecstatic at having found an ally.

"I knew you had an eye for these things!" Tuulia nodded passionately. Monica and Päivi, on the other hand, were evidently disappointed.

"What?! Really?"

"…You're just basing that off your personal feelings." "Yep." Sylvia nodded. "That's what my feelings tell me. I mean, it's only natural to believe in the team of the person you love, right?"

"…!" She paused there, realizing she had been, perhaps, a little too frank. The faces of the five younger girls had all turned scarlet. As she watched their adorable reactions, Sylvia felt like laughing for the first time all day

. She truly did want Yukio and the others to win—for her as well as for themselves.

In the audience chamber of the Hall of the Yellow Dragon, Alema watched on from behind a nearby pillar, while the members of Team Yellow Dragon—Xiaohui excluded—knelt in front of the seated Xinglou, each staring at the live broadcast from the Sirius Dome projected in the huge air-window before them.

"Hmm… So I take it that your shared opinion is that Gallardworth will win?" Xinglou asked.

"Yes," Hufeng answered, head bowed respectfully.

"Kirin Toudou's absence is a major blow and one that can't be solved through strategy alone."

"I see. And you, Alema? You chose Seidoukan?"

"I DIDN'T SAY THEY'D WIN. EVEN I THINK GALLARDWORTH'S GOT THE ADVANTAGE HERE, AND YET…" Alema, her interest piqued, put on a self-satisfied grin."YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN THE MURAKORIKUMO TAKE DOWN THAT YABUKI HEAD. IF HE CAN DO THAT AGAIN, NO ONE AT GALLARDWORTH IS GOING TO STOP HIM."

Xinglou looked down fondly at the two before clapping her hands together lightly. "Now, now. As Alema has noticed, there's no doubt that Yukio Amagiri possesses a Lot of hidden power—or rather, that Lots more of it remains sealed away."

(Later on the Day)

The confident aura emanating from the members of Team Lancelot across the stage was nothing short of overwhelming. And it made sense: Taking into account no more than their individual abilities, it seemed all but impossible for Team Enfield to prevail. As they faced their five opponents, standing across from them in a row, Yukio couldn't help but feel as if a towering mountain were about to come crashing down upon him.

"Hey, Yukio."

At the sound of Julis's whisper, he snapped back to his surroundings. Amid the thunderous roar of cheering voices, Ernest stepped forth, holding out a hand toward him.

"It's a shame you're one short, but I'm afraid we won't go easy on you." "I know," Yukio replied, handshake firm. "Let's give them all a fitting performance," he said with his usual fresh, invigorated voice. Next, it was Laetitia who stepped forward. Her gaze was directed not at Yukio, but at Claudia, standing beside him. "The time has finally come, Claudia. Today's the day I finally pay you back for everything that's happened over the years!" she called out with her typical confidence. "I'm looking forward to it," Claudia replied with a gentle laugh. It was clear to Yukio that she was putting her heart and soul into this match in a way she hadn't just a few days prior.

"Gryps Championship Match—battle start!" No sooner did it sound than the mechanical voice was drowned out by an excited roar. Team Lancelot immediately moved into battle formation, their movements perfectly synchronized. Ernest and Lionel took point in the vanguard, with Laetitia and Kevin falling back to the middle of the stage, and Percival acting as support in the rear—the same formation that they always employed. On Team Enfield's side, Yukio and Claudia took the vanguard, with Julis slightly behind them as support, while Saya, in the rear, began to charge her Waldenholt Mark II.

"Let's get started!" Laetitia was the first to activate her abilities, summoning a pair of gigantic, semi-translucent wings of light from her back. They unfurled like amber spider's legs as she lunged toward Yukio and Claudia.

"Burst into bloom—Primrose!"

Next up was Julis, casting nine separate fireballs, each resembling graceful blossoms in a dance-like volley over the top of their heads.

Laetitia's wings swung downward from above, the fireballs unfurling like beautiful flowers as they collided with them, while underneath, Yukio and Ernest, and Claudia and Lionel, rushed to meet one another.

"I've been looking forward to crossing swords with you! And to think we've been given such a grand stage as this! We truly should thank the gods!"

Ernest's Lei-Glems clanged against Yukio's Ser Veresta, each impact throwing off sparks in every direction. While the Lei-Glems had the ability to make physical contact with only that which its user wanted to strike, and the Ser Veresta was capable of burning through everything it touched, when they came together like this, those abilities essentially canceled each other out.

"I hope I can live up to your expectations…!"

In a duel, victory inevitably went to whichever party possessed the greater swordsmanship, and in that area, Ernest was practically flawless. It only took a brief moment for Yukio to realize what exactly he was up against. Gallardworth's particular style of swordsmanship was characterized by wide arcing moves and quick flicks of the wrist, but unlike, say, Elliot's, Ernest's was a larger two-handed weapon. That meant he wasn't as fast, but he more than made up for that with technique.

"Urg…" Just as Yukio found himself being pushed back, another volley of Julis's primroses fluttered down from above. Ernest brushed the flames aside, his expression unflinching. Yukio taking advantage of that momentary opportunity, rallied himself, dashing forward. But of course, these were the kinds of moments when a team's support would step in. Just as he was approaching Ernest, three of Laetitia's luminescent wings descended upon him.

He sliced through one of them with the Ser Veresta, the remaining two all but diving onto each other to escape his counterattack, when he heard Claudia's voice, crying out as she parried Lionel's spear. "Yukio, above!"

"—!"

Ernest, using the two wings that had dived to the ground as a foothold, had leaped high into the air to attack from managed to repel the attack not a moment too late, but only to have Saya call out: "It's coming!"

Glancing across the stage at her warning, he caught sight of Percival at the opposing team's rear, one hand lifted into the air as she intoned solemnly:

"A halo of mercy and atonement I give to thee."

Almost instantaneously, the huge chalice-shaped Orga Lux floating above her began to emanate a golden light. After a short moment, a brilliant current burst out of it as if to sweep away the entire stage, wide and fast enough to engulf everyone in its path, comparable in force even with Saya's most powerful Luxes. That band of light, the Holy Grail's signature ability, was capable of robbing its targets of consciousness not through brute force, but rather by psychological shock and awe, making it all but impossible to defend against.

In other words, Team Lancelot had two supposedly invulnerable weapons: Ernest's Lei-Glems and Percival's Amalthean Goat. What was even more astonishing was that each member of Team Lancelot successfully evaded the oncoming wave without even the slightest hint of needing to communicate their actions. Rather, they had taken advantage of their opponents' momentary lapse in concentration to increase the fervor of their own attacks.

(Meanwhile as the Match continues)

Team Enfield are in a pickle right now especially Yukio.

He put his whole body into the attack of Lei Glems. His timing was so perfect, as was his speed, that no one in their right mind could have even hoped to dodge it. And yet, at that moment, Ayato felt something inside him snap open with a click.

"…Hmm. It's about time." Madiath, watching the match from the Sirius Dome's special observation lounge, let out a satisfied sigh. His Lamina Mortis mask lay strewn casually on the desk beside him.

"It looks like it was worth giving him that little extra push last night, after all."

"What does that mean?" Varda, sitting beside him, tilted her head in his direction.

"What does this have to do with that?"

"There are three parts to the seal that Haruka placed upon our friend Yukio Amagiri, each of them lifting only when certain conditions are cleared."

"…What's the point of something like that?"

"My guess would be that she had her own way of showing her love for him. But if you really want to know, you'll have to ask her yourself," Madiath continued with a shrug.

"Anyway, it seems that the third seal could only be released when his accumulated strength exceeded her own and Chifuyu's. In other words, it looks like he's finally overtaken her."

"His strength…?" Varda repeated, clearly not yet comprehending.

"There's no need to think that hard about it. It basically just means that he had to reach a certain level in ability." Varda stared at him with something bordering on disgust.

"Don't tell me… So last night was all about tempering his skills?"

"Exactly. That's the quickest way to build up someone's strength, don't you think?" Madiath murmured, the corners of his lips curling in a faint smile.

"Now then, let's see if you were worth the effort…Yukio Amagiri."

Yukio was staring down at another him in the middle of the darkness. It was the him who had been sealed away by his sister's ability. There were three locks attached to the chains that bound his body. The first lay broken, and the second was already unlocked. As for the third one—as he gazed down at it, he slowly unclenched his hand, revealing a glimmering key. Unlike last time, this time, the key was complete.

He inserted it into the lock; with a faint echo though the Ice Cold darkness, it sprung open.

As it did, a tremendous force seemed to lift up out of his body, trembling like a living thing, before soaring off into the void. Only then did he realize—or rather, only then could he clearly recognize—what it was.

It wasn't Yukio himself who had been sealed away. It was the Yukio of the past, of six years prior, who had parted with his sister.

The young Yukio, wearing a carefree smile, held out his hand. The Yukio of now took it in his own—and as he did so, the darkness around them erupted into a dazzling Freezing Blizzard.

"What…?!" Ernest's eyes opened wide in shock. Yukio could hardly blame him. His opponent's attack had been timed perfectly, making it all but impossible to evade. And yet, Yukio had done precisely that. He crouched down and stepped backward, pulling out his spare blade-type Lux from its holder at his waist. Ernest's expression changed from one of startle to pure joy. "

Amazing…!" he said as he resumed his fighting posture before, once again, stepping forward.

First, he thrust his blade low toward the ground, following through with an upward arc. With his current Lux, blocking Ernest's Lei-Glems simply wouldn't be possible.

Even so, Yukio dodged his consecutive strikes with minimal movement.

"Hmm…" He felt like he had when he had fought Bujinsai, as if he had returned to who he was meant to be. He could feel the cold energy flowing through every corner of him, as if his mind and body had melted together and become one. He slashed upward with his blade, twisting his wrist as he did so to flow immediately into a diagonal downward slash. Ernest attempted to raise the Lei-Glems to defend himself but wasn't able to prevent the second part of the attack from cutting through his uniform.

Ernest hadn't made a mistake. Yukio had simply been too fast. His body was moving much more naturally, precisely, and above all, faster than ever before. "Ernest!" Four additional luminescent wings had sprung from Laetitia's back, making for twelve in total that were now rushing toward him.

But catching his breath, Yukio then sliced through them all with a single flash of his blade.

"How is that…?!" Even so, Team Lancelot's coordination was nothing short of incredible.

In the brief span of time that it had taken him to destroy those glowing wings, Kevin and Lionel had appeared out of nowhere to catch him in the middle of a pincer formation.

Glancing across the stage, he could see that the only thing stopping Percival from joining in on the attack was Claudia.

"Impressive! But without your Ser Veresta, you're ours!"

"En garde!" The two launched into a combination move, coming at him in the blink of an eye with both sword and spear.

Yukio, however, turned aside the long blade with a casual flick of his body, while at the same time parrying the spear descending toward him from above with what must have looked like no more than a gentle caress.

With that out of the way, he then followed through with an attack of his own.

Kevin managed to raise his shield to deflect the full force of the strike, but Lionel, armed only with his two-handed greatsword, had no way of parrying it. "Lionel Karsch—crest broken."

"Wait… What?" The tip of Ayato's blade had cut straight through his school crest. Lionel's eyes opened wide in astonishment before he fell to his knees with a silent thud. Yukio, however, paid him little attention as he focused on launching another strike aimed for Kevin.

"You've got to be kidding me…! That was… Even Ernest couldn't do that…!" Gallardworth's students prided themselves on their sturdiness in battle, so Kevin's defensive techniques were as excellent as could have been expected.

But even so— "Amagiri Shinmei Style Master Technique—Hornet Charge!" Yukio took a short step backward to gauge his timing before twisting his body and diving forward to unleash the attack. Kevin's shield began to crack under the force of the repeated thrusts, until it finally shattered.

Ayato stepped forward once again, this time aiming for his school crest, when—

"Even I couldn't do what, exactly?" Ernest inserted himself into the fray, deftly brushing aside Yukio's blade.

"Kevin, go see to Miss Enfield! Percival is probably nearing her limit!"

"A-ah… Understood!" Yukio let him go, turning his gaze toward Ernest—when he was overcome by some inexplicable sense of unease. There was something different about his opponent's stance. Gallardworth's style of combat normally centered on maintaining a balance between offense and defense, but the way that Ernest was holding the Lei-Glems suggested he was focusing now purely on attack. And there was something else, too.

"Now then, shall we continue?" As he spoke, his usual composed smile fell away, revealing a disquieting grin. "…Julis, are you okay?"

"Ah, sorry!" As a barrage of Laetitia's wings of light pummeled into her, one had managed to score a hit on Julis's leg. Fortunately, with Saya's help, she had been able to drive away the pursuit, but there was no hiding the fact that she was injured. Laetitia's wings continued to sweep down to check their every movement, but Saya, though burdened with helping her and still with the vernier of the Waldenholt fully equipped, slid past them all as she made her way across the stage. Julis couldn't say that she liked being put in this situation, but right now, she had no choice but to rely on her. She could probably still use her Strelitzia technique to fly across the stage, but in the air, she would make an easy target for Laetitia's ever-transforming wings.

"Anyway… When did Yukio get so strong?"

As she summoned up a ring of fire to help defend Claudia from Kevin, she could do little but watch out of the corner of her eye in worry as he exchanged strikes against Ernest. There could be no mistaking that, until just a short moment ago, Ernest had had the advantage. That was to be expected—not only was he considered Asterisk's premier swordsman, he was widely regarded as one of the greatest, if not the greatest of their age. And yet now, the situation seemed to have been reversed. No matter how you looked at it, amid the furious exchange of blows, Ayato was the one who had Ernest on his toes. On top of that, Ayato wasn't even wielding the Ser Veresta. If he still had the Orga Lux, the battle might already have been over. Ayato was practically overwhelming him. She had heard from Claudia about how he had driven Yabuki's father back, but to think that he could be this powerful…

"…He must have completely broken the seal that Haru placed on him. In other words, that's his real strength." Saya's voice, as she exchanged fire with Percival, was low, but it held an unmistakable touch of pride. "I can see that… I just had no idea he could be this strong…"

"Do you remember what I told you a while ago? That if you really fought Ayato, you wouldn't be in one piece?"

"…Ah, I remember. It was when we were showing him around the campus, right?" At the time, she had thought Saya was merely trying to provoke her. "I always thought it was strange. If the Ayato I remembered had kept growing, he'd have to be really, really stronger than Haru was. He was still strong when he broke his seal, but not as strong as I had been expecting."

"What?!" Saya spun around sharply to dodge an oncoming attack from Laetitia aimed at her blind spot, Julis clinging to her to avoid being thrown off. "It might have made sense if he had given up on his training and stopped practicing, but that doesn't look like it was the case," Saya continued softly between carefully timed shots with her handgun. "When he came here, he was really trying to do his best, so he must have stayed at it after I moved away."

"What are you trying to say?"

"…Haven't you noticed? It's been more than a year since Ayato first arrived here, but he hasn't really gotten any stronger since then."

"What…?" Aghast, Julis stared back at her. "N-n-not at all! I mean, he's…" But she stopped there, unable to properly refute her. Now that she mentioned it, the only time she had really felt a Extreme increase in Ayato's strength was whenever he broke his seal. That was in spite of the countless hours that they had spent training together since the Phoenix.

"He was still able to pick up new techniques, like our coordination patterns, but he didn't really move beyond that… But his real power, the Yukio that I'd always known, has probably been held back by Haru's seal all this time."

"I-impossible! If that's true…" Julis stared at Yukio in shock. Haruka had placed that seal on him six years ago. In which case—

"Right. That power has been building up in him for seven years now. He should be able to win no matter who he faces," Saya declared, brimming with confidence.

Across the stage, a sudden flash of Yukio's sword seemed to send the Lei-Glems flying from Ernest's hand— No, wait… He threw it away himself? Julis had to strain her eyes to make out what was going on. This time, it was Ernest's turn to undergo a transformation of his own.

Ernest Fairclough was the kind of person who kept himself under control at all times. Even if it wasn't what he himself truly wanted to do, if, by doing so, he could bring some kind of benefit to his friends, his house, his school—indeed, to all those around him—then that was good enough for him. This wasn't to say that he was particularly philanthropic or altruistic at heart. Rather, if, by acting selfishly, one was to cause disadvantage to befall others, then it was simply more efficient to take the total sum of consequences into account and act accordingly.

That was the most logical way to survive in this world under the thumb of the integrated enterprise foundations. It was, of course, stifling to live while having all but suffocated his heart, but Ernest excelled at deceiving even himself. That allowed him to keep breathing, and he didn't feel any particular discomfort or difficulty as a result of it.

Except, perhaps, when it came to what had happened with her. But that was a long time ago now. And it wasn't as if he hadn't sensed this moment coming. That way of living would break down the moment he wished for something that was difficult to change. Even if he had thrown everything else away, even if he cast aside everything that he had so painstakingly built up until now, there was one wish he needed to see come true. He feared it, somewhere deep inside himself, and yet, at the same time, he was desperately searching for it.

"Haaah!"

"Argh!" He warded away Yukio's oncoming strike at his school crest with the Lei-Glems, but his opponent immediately adjusted the course of his movements and swooped down with another strike. Yukio Amagiri. His swordsmanship and movements—practically his whole fighting style—were completely different from just a brief moment ago. Their most essential components, however, remained unchanged. It was more like the gears had clicked into place, his technique becoming clearer and more precise. Even with the overwhelming advantage of the Lei-Glems, Ernest was still being one-sidedly pushed back. At this rate, it was only a matter of time before his school crest was destroyed.

"Ha-ha… Ha-ha-ha…!" The situation was getting out of hand, but still, he couldn't hold back his mirth. He couldn't help but be overjoyed by this adversity and by the one who had plunged him into it. There was a craving deep inside him, something he couldn't oppose.

He had felt it, intuitively, the moment he had first set eyes upon this opponent. Yukio was just like himself. There was a wickedness inside his opponent, something that he kept under control at all times. And yet, that opponent was far freer that he himself was. It would be a lie to say that he wasn't jealous—but that was hardly important.

What mattered now was that that opponent—Yukio Amagiri—was closing in on him. Then so be it. In that case, there was no need to keep putting up with it any longer. He would acknowledge that craving, his impossible wish for change, for which he was willing to sacrifice anything and everything to have granted. He would unleash the power that he himself was keeping in check.

"What are you…?" Yukio stared at him in surprise as he cast the LeiGlems aside. Right.

He didn't care what happened next. Whether it was the gloomy, stifling Fairclough house; the excessive expectations and demands disguised as flattery of the people around him; the worthless Runesword that forced him to bury his true self; the alias Pendragon that hung heavy around his neck; the lip service and empty loyalty of the academy that purported to care about him; his companions bound to him through respect and friendship; his foolish, charming, courageous sister, so filled with self-reproach and dedication that she was willing to throw herself into the heat of battle for him; and then after, his memories of her—now that it had come to this, none of it mattered anymore. He activated the longsword-type Lux that he had been keeping in reserve and, for the first time in his life, felt a grin—a real, authentic grin—rising up from the depths of his heart.

Yukio knew, on some instinctive level, to fall back. At that moment, a fierce slash, aimed directly at his neck, brushed against the edge of his skin. It wasn't the kind of graceful arc that characterized Gallardworth's style of swordsmanship—it was more direct than that, sharper, neither elegant nor showy, a technique designed to achieve nothing more than to slaughter one's opponent.

"…Is that the real you, Ernest Fairclough?"

"Indeed. The real me to match the real you." Casually lowering his sword, Ernest's ever-handsome face now looked somewhat distorted. He directed a fiendish grin toward Yukio—one that looked, somehow, strangely familiar.

"Yaaaaaargh!"

"Raaaaaah!"

The two roared as they charged at each other. Ernest, brushing Yukio's downward swing to one side, twisted his body to put himself within reach of him and lunged toward him to trip him up. This kind of grappling technique didn't exist in the Gallardworth style of combat—but it did in the Amagiri Shinmei style. As he approached the ground, Yukio used his free hand to propel himself around to kick Ernest's legs out from under him. As the Gallardworth boy leaped backward to dodge the blow, Yukio regained his footing and, without a moment's delay, lunged after him with a downward slash. Ernest bent backward to evade it, but the tip of his blade gashed across his chest, tearing straight through his uniform. That didn't stop him, however, from attempting to counter with a powerful stab at Yukio's flank—which, thanks to his quick reflexes, only managed to graze his skin. Neither was seriously injured. Even so, at this rate, the two were bound to keep wounding each other, the seriousness of those wounds increasing with every blow.

They were both starting to take greater risks with all of their exchanges, both pulling back only at the very last moment.

Ernest's current technique was both ferocious and cold, but being based as it was on his overwhelming mastery of swordsmanship, no matter how rough or unsophisticated it might appear, he was showing no opening that Yukio might take advantage of. As they continued to exchange blows, their uniforms, Seidoukan and Gallardworth alike, tore with each strike, dashes of blood splashing across the stage. And yet, neither could deliver a conclusive blow. What was more, Ernest was always the first to move.

"Ha-ha-ha-ha! How magnificent! How exhilarating! I truly feel alive!" He bared his teeth as he roared with laughter, still not letting up on his assault. The two locked swords, when all of a sudden, he elbowed Yukio in the chin at point-blank range.

"Hrk…!" Yukio dodged backward out of pure reflex, Ernest swooping down on him yet again. He spat out the lump of blood building in his mouth, preparing this time to be the one to take the offensive. That way of fighting was the Amagiri Shinmei style's specialty.

"Amagiri Shinmei Style Grappling Technique—Grindstone Pommel!" Yukio moved in on his opponent, diving forward with a diagonal slash from top to bottom. Ernest may have managed to dodge that, but he couldn't escape Yukio slamming the weapon's hilt into his abdomen.

"Guh?! Yukio didn't stop there, using his free right hand to strike his opponent's chin—only to have Ernest dive his knee deep into the pit of his stomach. Even having exchanged such fierce blows, both remained armed and ready, neither allowing themselves to sink to the ground in defeat. As Ernest lashed out with a downward diagonal slash, Yukio met it with an upward strike of his own, both deflecting the other's attack.

When they closed the distance, they lashed out at each other with their hands and elbows, homing in on the other's vital organs, just waiting for an opportunity to pin their opponent down. Blood splattered across the stage with every strike of their blades, punch, and blow, and yet, neither one allowed himself to falter, neither allowed himself to yield so much as an inch of ground.

They were remarkably similar. Yukio was perhaps the fitter of the two, but in terms of raw ferocity, he couldn't keep pace. Either one might come out of the battle on top. Even so, if they kept this up, there could only be one outcome.

One would end up taking the other's life. He would have to finish it before it could come to that. Yukio fought to get his ragged breathing under control as he slowly edged toward his opponent, looking for some kind of opening, anything, when—

"A halo of mercy and atonement I give to thee," came Percival's gentle voice ringing across the stage, followed by a wave of golden light.

Neither Yukio nor Ernest, both fighting at their absolute best, should have had any difficulty evading it. For both of them, however, this was the perfect opportunity. The two threw themselves toward each other with all their weight, crashing together with such force that sparks flew in every direction.

A crater erupted at their feet, the force of their blows so strong as to send rubble flying through the air. They were both putting everything they had left into this closefought duel. They each clenched their teeth as they pushed against each other, but the difference in ability was readily apparent. More important than that, however, was that this wasn't a contest of strength, but rather a kind of delicate negotiation. When finally they pulled back from each other, it was Yukio who retreated ever so slightly. Ernest only needed a split second to follow through once more.

At that moment, Laetitia's wings of light descended toward him, but Ernest paid that no heed as he lunged toward Yukio's chest with the tip of his blade. It went without saying that, if Ernest had been his usual self, he would have linked up with Laetitia's wings. If he had done that, Yukio would have lost then and there. However…that would have required that he fight as part of a team.

"Burst into bloom—Anthurium!" A shield of fire manifested in front of Yuko's chest, protecting his crest and stopping Ernest's blade in its tracks. And then— "Boom." Six separate beams of Saya's homing blaster made straight for Ernest's own badge.

"Tch!" The Gallardworth student clicked his tongue as he cleared them away with a flick of his blade, but that split-second opening was all Yukio needed.

"Amagiri Shinmei Style, Hidden Technique—Crescent Ice Carnage!" Yukio launched himself off the stage to slice through Ernest's school crest with a rounded arc, when—

"Not yet!" Just before Yukio's blade could reach him, Ernest managed to block it from making contact.

"Yaaaaaargh!" Letting out an earsplitting roar, and with a gruesome grin that was a bloodcurdling concoction of savage ecstasy, Ernest pushed back against him. His longsword glimmered through the air as it sped straight toward him. With his arms outstretched, Yukio's chest was now vulnerable, leaving him no possibility to defend himself.

And yet— "Raaaaaah!" Right. The Gryps was, first and foremost, a team contest.

"—?!" Claudia, having jumped out from behind him, parried Ernest's blow with the blade in her right hand while using the chambered one held in her left to home in on his chest. "Ernest Fairclough—crest broken."

"End of battle! Winners: Team Enfield!" As the mechanical voice resounded across the now-silent stage, Claudia, the twin blades of the Pan-Dora still gripped in either hand, flashed the fallen team leader an exhausted smile.

"As long as I have my companions behind me, even I'm fit to be your opponent, Ernest."

"Phew…" When she watched the match finally reach its dramatic conclusion from her hospital bed, Kirin let out a deep sigh of relief. "At… At last! The championship is decided! Having risen to the top of this year's two hundred and fifty teams and having snatched glory in the face of their overwhelming numerical disadvantage, it's Team Enfield!"

"If this were the Lindvolus, that duel between contestant Amagiri and contestant Fairclough may have ended very differently. That being said, I must confess my surprise that it wasn't Team Lancelot that pulled through here…" The excited voices of the announcer and commentator spilled out from the live broadcast projected in the air-window in front of her, along with an indistinct cacophony of cheers and applause.

There could be no mistaking that it had been a severely fought contest. Kirin's hands, clenched tightly in suspense the whole time, were now covered in sweat. From the moment it started, she had been bracing herself for the worst, unable to relax for so much as a second. Even now, after having watched Yukio apparently break through his final seal and unleash his true power, and having watched Ernest somehow manage to increase his technique to surpass even that, she still couldn't command her racing heart to calm down. And while they might have won, she still couldn't bring herself to wipe away the shame that continued to torment her for not having been able to be there herself.

"…Congratulations, everyone," she whispered in a small voice, hands gripping her blanket ever tighter.

She couldn't say she was unhappy. She was, of course, overjoyed to be a member of the victorious team, not to mention immensely proud at having been able to carry the semifinal despite her own paltry ability. On top of that, even if she was absent from the final match, that didn't mean she wouldn't be able to have her wish granted (although, strictly speaking, that was determined based on how many matches any given contestant had participated in).

Now she would finally be able to free her father. That was, after all, her most sincere wish. And yet, in spite of all that, she still couldn't shake her feelings of shame. The fact that she hadn't been able to stand beside her friends on the stage, to fight beside them, and to snatch victory alongside them, was, for her, unbearably mortifying. "I suppose I really am still inexperienced…," she said to the empty room, her shoulders slumping.

She could feel her energy returning to her, albeit it in dribs and drabs, but it was still far from the level at which she could properly control it.

Having seen just how powerful Yukio had been during the match, she knew that she still had a long way to go.

Even if only in a minor way, she wanted to be able to stand beside him as his equal.

"Wh-what am I saying…?!" But just as her thoughts led her into a flustered panic, her mobile began to ring. She had automatically assumed it must have been from Yukio and the others, but she could see on the air-window that they were all still in the middle of their winners' interview.

As she glanced at her mobile, a completely unexpected name stood out.

She hurriedly shut the air-window displaying the live broadcast and opened a new, smaller one to take the call.

As the image of a woman of advanced age appeared in front of her, she all but unthinkingly straightened her back and sat up straight. "Great-Aunt! I'm sorry I haven't kept in touch…"

"Yo, it's been a while," Dirk's low voice echoed through the wide access corridor underneath the Sirius Dome. On the stage above, everyone would be getting ready for the awards ceremony and the formal closing speeches, so it was all but guaranteed that no one else would come down here. No one else, that was, except for the person he had expressly summoned.

"What do you want, D? Are you really still hiding behind the name of the institute?" The figure that emerged from the wan darkness belonged to none other than Saint Gallardworth Academy's fifthranked fighter, a person who, until just a short time ago, had been fighting as part of Team Lancelot—Percival Gardner.

"It's been what, ten years…? Who would have thought you'd go to Gallardworth of all places? I'll be honest with you—I didn't even realize it myself until I had some people look into it. And you've got the Holy Grail, too?"

"Well, I recognized you from the very beginning. You really haven't changed at all. Le Wolfe suits you." Percival continued to look straight ahead, her expression calm and unfazed.

"So? You didn't call me here to talk about the past. I've got an awards ceremony to go to."

"Hmph, that goes for me, too." As a student council president, he was, in principle, expected to attend formal events of that kind. "Let's get straight to the point. Come back. Work with me. You'd be much more useful than the dolts I've got now."

"…I don't know what you mean. You want me to transfer to Le Wolfe?"

"Don't be an idiot. You know as well as I do that transferring schools is against the Stella Carta. Don't you?" Dirk clicked his tongue in annoyance as he glared across at her. "Give us…no, give me a hand. I'm putting certain plans into motion. If you do that, I'll make sure your wish gets granted."

"…My wish?" At that, her steely expression finally wavered. "Your wish, yeah. You don't need to take the long way and win at the Festa to get that done. I'll grant it faster than they ever could. And to be honest… I watched the match. You don't have a chance in hell of getting what you want that way."

"…I did the best I could."

"That's what I'm telling you. Your best won't cut it there."

"…" Seeing that Percival wasn't about to talk back to his abuse, Dirk surmised that she must have also realized that for herself. "You're the one who keeps going on about being a weapon, right? So what you need isn't friends. It's a competent user."

"And that's you?"

"Just think back to ten years ago, and you'll have your answer." Percival remained silent for a long, drawn-out moment before finally answering. "Very well. I'll hear you out."

"Ah… I'm glad that's over. I thought the Phoenix was bad, but now I really am sick of their way of putting fighters up on a pedestal like that." Julis, limping down the corridor as they made their way back to their prep room after the ceremony, wouldn't stop complaining.

"Dear me, and I thought you went straight to the hospital after that one and missed all the formalities," Claudia pointed out with a smile.

"I wish I could have done the same thing this time," Julis retorted before turning her piercing gaze to Yukio. "But one of us is much worse off than I am, and if he wouldn't go, it wasn't like I could, either."

"Ha-ha-ha…" Yukio, his body covered in first-aid dressings, looked away, scratching at his cheek. To be honest, he, too, had wanted nothing more than to rest, but he couldn't bring himself to turn away the academy's associated publicity groups. Fortunately, none of his injuries were life-threatening, and with his seal finally being properly unlocked, not even his many wounds could dampen his mood.

"By the way… Are you all right, Saya?" Claudia asked.

"Ah…" Saya, who had been following them all half asleep slowly raised her thumb. "That's some dexterity you've got there," Julis answered sarcastically, when she suddenly turned tense. "Huh?"

"Hello again, Team Enfield." Standing across from them, down the corridor, were the various faces of Team Lancelot. "We didn't have a chance to talk properly up on the podiums. Let me begin by congratulating you all," Ernest said with his usual charming smile. Like Ayato, he, too, was injured all over, his wounds similarly freshly treated.

"…It looks like you're back to normal," Claudia remarked. "Ah-ha-ha. I feel much better now, thanks to you all. I'd been waiting for an opportunity like this for over ten years… Although, it looks like I've fallen out of this one's good graces," he said, tapping the empty holder at his waist. The Lei-Glems, it seemed, had turned its back on him.

"You've really put us all in a bind now," Laetitia said, raising her hands to her head.

"How could someone with the title of Pendragon, and not to mention the student council president of Saint Gallardworth Academy, do something like that…?" Certainly, for someone as supposedly perfect as Ernest to have that level of savagery be exposed so publicly, it was inevitable that he would take a significant hit to his image, not to mention cause a massive headache for the student council.

"That's where the support of the vice president matters most, right?" Claudia broke in. "Everyone's counting on you, Laetitia!"

"What?! Don't start meddling in other people's affairs…! And just so you know, we might have lost as a team, but it was Ernest you defeated this time, not me!"

"…That's rather harsh." Ernest grimaced. Laetitia, however, didn't even spare him a glance as she thrust a finger toward Claudia.

"As far as team combat goes, this just means we've got one win and one loss each! So the real champion is whoever wins the next one!"

"Yes, yes, if you say so… I have a debt to settle with you as well," Claudia responded with a smile.

"I'm the one who was utterly defeated. Yukio Amagiri, that technique of yours is amazing," Lionel said as he gripped his hand firmly in his own. "N-not at all…" "Well, it was you, Leo, who got your crest broken." Kevin, standing beside him, grinned. "It wasn't like I was beaten or anything."

"You're as modest as ever, I see." "Come on, Leo. There's no need to take your anger out on me." Kevin and Lionel all but butted heads as they glowered at each other.

"…It looks like you all get along well," Julis murmured, a touch of surprise in her voice. "Of course. There's always more than one side to someone." "I suppose that is more persuasive when you say it, Ernest."

"…The same goes for you, too, Claudia," Yukio remarked. "Well, at any rate, Percival aside, the rest of us are all going to retire from this kind of thing," Ernest said. "I'm glad you were our last match."

"Percival's around your age, so maybe you'll face her again one day. You'd better be ready for it," Laetitia added boastfully, placing a hand on the shoulder of her silent companion.

"…Not at all," Percival replied expressionlessly. "Well then, I suppose we're going to have a lot of free time from now on. We might have retired, but maybe we'll see one another again one day? In fact, I'll be looking forward to it," Ernest said, calm and invigorated to the last. With that, Team Lancelot made their departure.

"…There's something dangerous about that one," Saya murmured faintly. Yukio, who had assumed that she was sleeping on her feet, turned to her in surprise. "Huh? That one? You mean Percival Gardner?"

"Right. She's the only one I couldn't properly gauge." Saya's tone was unusually grave, but now that she mentioned it, she was the one who spent the most time engaging her as an opponent, so if anyone could have made that observation, it was her.

"Come now, we had better make our way to the hospital before worrying about things like that," Claudia said brightly, clapping her hands together as if to change the subject.

"Yukio and Julis need proper treatment, and it's about time we reported everything to Kirin properly."

"Ah, right. I'm still a bit worried about her condition," Yukio replied. "If she sees you like that, she'll be the one who'll worry, though," Julis remarked. There was no arguing with that.

"Hmm…" Saya sighed. "Well then, let's go. She must be waiting for us," she said, flashing them all a weak smile as if to change the mood.

"At this hour, it will be faster to take the airship, I should think. It won't take long to get ready," Claudia added as she fumbled through her pocket, when all at once, not her own, but Yukio's, mobile began to ring. As he glanced at the name on the display, his expression suddenly stiffened.

"Huh…? D-Dad and Bis Sis Chifuyu?"

To be Continued