The Asterisk War, Vol. 8: Idol Showdown

by Yuu Miyazaki

  “Phew… The teams in the main tournament really are at another level, huh?” Ayato said with a sigh as he sunk into the sofa once they had all returned to their prep room after the winners’ interview.

  When it came to combat ability, there weren’t many teams stronger than Team Enfield, but that didn’t mean they could afford to underestimate their opponents. They were, after all, one of the favorites, so they could expect that any team they faced would have devised some kind of strategy to counter their advantage.

  “We put too much pressure on Ayato this time,” Claudia remarked. “We should have thought more about their abilities in close combat. That is Jie Long’s forte.”

  “Well, even if I did get eliminated, that would have been fine with me as long as it gave you all the advantage you needed to win.”

  It was a team battle, after all.

  “Maybe as a last resort, but we would be in trouble if you were to get hurt. So if you do have to lose, try to make it happen by having your school crest get destroyed—not anything else.” Claudia’s tone was light, but it was nonetheless a reasonable request.

  Even if they were to win, if he got injured in the process, that would prove to be a problem for the next match. The Executive Committee disliked giving victories by default, so teams were still allowed to participate even if short of up to two of their members, but it was undeniable that such teams were at a significant disadvantage.

  “Still, aren’t we in a relatively good bracket?” Julis asked.

  “R-right… At the very least, we won’t have to face Team Lancelot until the finals.” Kirin nodded in agreement.

  The bracket for the main tournament had been drawn the previous day. Fortunately, among the thirty-two teams that had made it that far, Gallardworth’s Team Lancelot, still the team most favored to take the championship, had been allocated to a different block.

  “…That goes for that crazy team, too,” Saya added.

  She was referring, of course, to Team Hellion, whose brutality, just as much as their strength, made them an undesirable opponent.

  “The one that we’re probably going to need to deal with first, based on what happened in the preliminaries, is Team Yellow Dragon,” Ayato said. “Hagun Seikun in particular.”

  “As expected from the Ban’yuu Tenra’s top disciple,” Claudia agreed.

  It was no understatement to say that Hagun Seikun’s overwhelming performance in the second round had far exceeded any of their expectations.

  It was hard to tell from that battle alone, but his close-combat abilities probably excelled those of both Ayato and Kirin.

  “Ayato…?” Kirin asked worriedly. She had no doubt guessed what he was thinking.

  “…No, let’s not worry about that now,” he said, changing the topic as he opened the prep room’s largest air-window. “We need to start preparing for the next match.”

  They certainly would need a strategy to deal with Hagun Seikun, but for now, they would be better off focusing on the problem at hand.

  “Looks like it’s already started.”

  They turned in tandem to the live broadcast just as five familiar white-uniformed figures entered the frame.

  “From the east gate, we have the second half of Saint Gallardworth Academy’s Silverwinged Knights, and the runners-up from the last Gryps! Well, their members might be completely different, but anyway! Elliot Forster, the Claíomh Solais, is leading Team Tristan onto the stage!”

  The surge of cheers echoing throughout the arena seemed to pour into the prep room itself.

  “And now, from the west gate, we have one of the teams that made the top eight during the last tournament! Queenvale Academy for Young Ladies’ renowned all-girl rock band, Team Rusalka!”

  Another wave of cheers, no less than what had greeted Team Tristan, erupted from the crowds. In the center of the screen, Miluše and the others were all waving to the galleries as if about to open a live performance—a stark contrast to Team Tristan’s somber entrance.

  “Who do you suppose will win?” Claudia asked with her usual mysterious smile.

  Julis was the first to answer. “…I’ll go with Team Tristan. They’re too different in strength. Rusalka might have unparalleled coordination, but Miluše is probably the only one among them who can keep up with Elliot Forster.”

  “I agree. To be perfectly honest, I doubt they’ll be able to keep up with him…”

  Indeed, based on what Ayato had seen from the preliminaries, Elliot Forster’s swordsmanship had improved dramatically since the previous year.

  And not just his swordsmanship. His physical abilities had undergone a complete transformation as well.

  Team Rusalka, on the other hand, didn’t look to have changed much since the last Gryps. Of course, it was to be expected that they would have undergone incremental improvement, and their coordination did seem to be more involved, but that by itself was unlikely to be enough to take down Team Tristan.

  And when it came to coordination, Gallardworth’s Team Tristan had always prided itself in that area, too.

  “And then there’s Perceforêt. Her ability won’t be easy to deal with.”

  “It is a very team-oriented ability,” Claudia nodded.

  It was a very rare kind of ability, Ayato thought. If they had to fight against them themselves, they would have a hard time countering it.

  “What do you think, Ayato?”

  “Hmm…”

  The conditions being what they were, everything did look to be in Team Tristan’s favor.

  But still, he found himself unable to respond.

  There was something nagging at him—something seemingly just out of sight.

  “I think it will be Rusalka.”

  The one who finally spoke up was Saya.

  “Oh? What makes you say that?” asked Julis, suddenly interested.

  Saya, expressionless, shook her head. “Just my intuition.”

  “…I see.” Julis gave her an amused shrug but said nothing more.

  After a moment, Claudia clapped her hands together as if to announce the end of discussion. “It’s about to begin. Now, everyone, let’s watch carefully. After all, we’ll be facing the winners.”

  As soon as the match was underway, Elliot Forster rushed ahead of the vanguard.

  Without him having to say anything, two more of his team’s knights followed after him.

  Gallardworth’s teams had no formations. They were able to coordinate organically, no matter the situation, using collective judgment to build on individual decisions. Embodying such contradiction, having emerged through strict discipline and continuous training, were Gallardworth’s finest teams, in which the whole functioned as one.

  With an effortless swing of his sword, Elliot brushed aside the barrage of bullets of light that had shot out from Mahulena’s keyboard-shaped Orga Lux.

  “It’ll take more than that to stop me!” Elliot muttered under his breath.

  He had been enduring his humiliation from the Phoenix for more than a year now.

  In fact, it was fair to say that, if not for that humiliation, he wouldn’t be where he was today.

  “But your sword…is still too light.”

  With his defeat, Elliot had accepted those words that Ayato Amagiri had whispered to him—and ground them between his teeth until there was nothing left.

  I don’t need a heavier sword. If that’s how it is, I’ll just make my sword lighter and faster!

  “No, you don’t!”

  “…That’s as far as you go!”

  Blocking his path were Tuulia and Päivi.

  But Elliot merely slowed his speed, letting two fellow knights overtake him to engage the girls, thus giving him an opening to keep pressing forward.

  At Gallardworth, team coordination went beyond words. After all, what he wanted was what his team wanted.

  “…I was wondering how long you’d take. I thought I’d have to reach out to you myself,” Miluše goaded, readying her guita
r-shaped Orga Lux, the Lyre-Poros Calliope.

  “I’m not so uncouth as to force a lady to come to me!” he called back, tightening his grip on his own sword Lux and correcting his stance.

  They were both the leaders of their respective teams, meaning that whoever won this duel would win the match.

  The first one to make a move was Miluše. “Here I come!”

  That was fine. Elliot’s specialty had always been harmonizing with his opponent’s attacks in order to deliver a crushing counterstrike.

  The point of his sword shimmered as if a mirage, moving to pierce through Miluše’s school crest faster than her overhead attack could reach him, when—

  “Wha—?!”

  But he stopped in mid-strike, spinning around.

  At that moment, a high-pitched burst of sound, the reverberations from Miluše’s overpowered guitar, struck him like a wave, pressing him low to the ground.

  “Ngh…! That was close… So that’s your acoustic crush, is it?”

  “Grrr! You weren’t supposed to dodge it!” Miluše seethed childishly. “I’ll just have to try again!”

  But before she could finish speaking, Elliot had already lunged out with a counterattack.

  “Wha—?!”

  Miluše dodged the attack by a fraction of an inch, but Elliot immediately continued into a large circular slash with overwhelming speed. Nonetheless, she hastily managed to activate a glowing blade of light from her Orga Lux to meet it head-on.

  Her ability to parry his attacks was beyond Elliot’s wildest expectations. Queenvale might have been the weakest of Asterisk’s six schools, but it looked like her rank as its number three wasn’t undeserved. Perhaps she wouldn’t be taken down quickly with a full-frontal assault after all.

  But that didn’t matter. Sensing that Noelle’s preparations were complete, Elliot was already half assured of victory.

  “Uh-oh! Th-that’s…!” Miluše seemed to have realized it, too, leaping back to join Mahulena in their rearguard.

  Elliot didn’t pursue her.

  After a moment, the other members of Rusalka also quickly retreated in alarm.

  An innumerable mass of tentacle-like thorns lay writhing on the ground, surrounding them from every side. They had sprung from Team Tristan’s rearguard, at the feet of Noelle Messmer, alias Perceforêt, who knelt with her staff-shaped Lux in front of her as if deep in prayer. The thorns already covered more than half of the stage and had begun to intertwine with one another into powerful chains.

  Put simply, it was an incredibly rare ability highly effective over large areas, and while it took some time to properly deploy, it gave its user complete control over the affected space.

  Team Rusalka, it seemed, was piling every move at their disposal into the writhing thorns, but they were unable to keep pace with their regeneration. Their efforts were having no real effect whatsoever.

  Before long, the thorns had confined them to a corner of the stage, like princesses trapped in a fairy-tale castle.

  “Now then, how about you surrender and save us all the trouble?” Elliot called out, pointing his sword toward them.

  They were confined like rats, but they didn’t look ready to give up just yet.

  “Don’t be stupid!” Miluše shouted back. “There’s no way we’d do that!”

  “Oh? That’s a real shame. You leave me no choice, then.” Elliot raised his sword and began to edge his way toward them.

  He couldn’t afford to take any chances now. Their next opponents would be Team Enfield. His long awaited chance to repay Ayato Amagiri in full for their last encounter was practically before him.

  Miluše and the others stood back-to-back, preparing to launch their own attack, but the thorns wound themselves through an unseen opening, coiling around their feet.

  “Wha—?! W-wait, no!”

  They squirmed wildly, trying to break free, but it wasn’t enough to shake off the writhing thorns.

  Elliot wasn’t about to let such an opportunity go.

  “I’ve got you now!” he cried out, when—

  “Argh! It’s not going to work like this!”

  It must have been Miluše, her gaze cast downward, who had murmured the words, but before he could properly process what was going on, an earsplitting explosion of sound blasted across the stage like a hurricane.

  “Guaaaaah?!”

  Elliot and the other members of Team Tristan found themselves thrown across the stage, and the thorns that until now had been keeping Team Rusalka pinned down disappeared without a trace.

  After landing on his feet, albeit with some difficulty, Elliot glanced back toward the five girls. They hadn’t moved but now stood there flamboyantly, their eyes dazzling, holding their Orga Luxes as if in the middle of a live performance.

  “And now,” announced Miluše, “it’s time for our next session!”

  “Th-that’s…” Kirin, her eyes fixed on the air-window, was at a loss for words.

  The same thing went for Ayato and Julis. Even Saya, who had predicted that Rusalka would win, was completely speechless.

  The two teams had undergone a sudden and total reversal of fortunes.

  No sooner had Rusalka eradicated the thorns than they effectively switched places with Team Tristan. The five girls in Rusalka were suddenly moving quickly and nimbly, while the Gallardworth’s knights seemed to have become lethargic and disoriented. The change was a dramatic one, and it clearly wasn’t the result of fatigue or injury.

  Which meant…

  “They’ve strengthened themselves and weakened their opponents,” Ayato murmured under his breath.

  “So they were able to do it after all,” Claudia whispered. “This must be the true power of the Lyre-Poros…”

  She, perhaps, was the only one who had anticipated this outcome, as she didn’t seem particularly surprised—about the match, at least.

  Julis looked to her sharply. “Do you know something about it, Claudia?”

  “Nothing that will be useful in devising a counterstrategy, I’m afraid. I was just able to get a little information on how it works; that’s all.”

  “And…?”

  “Like the Pan-Dora, the Lyre-Poros was developed by Ladislav Bartošik, so I wondered whether their abilities might also be similar,” Claudia said, removing her own Orga Lux from the holder at her waist. “The Lyre-Poros was originally just one Orga Lux, but its urm-manadite core proved to be so strong that no compatible users could be found. As such, on the assumption that the burden of wielding it could be shared, it was divided into five pieces. And yet…” She paused there in order to take a long breath. “It looks like they mustn’t have been able to realize its full potential during the last Gryps.”

  While Claudia had been speaking, Team Tristan’s members had been defeated one by one, with only Elliot Forster still standing, until—

  “End of battle! Winners: Team Rusalka!”

  The automated announcement sounded over the silence.

  CHAPTER 7

  A BUSY NIGHT

  “Beneath the ballast area…? No wonder I couldn’t find it.” Sylvia, leaning against the wall in the corridor, let out a faint laugh.

  “If you’re thinking about going down there, you can’t come back the same way without some kind of special ID card. So be careful.”

  Sylvia hadn’t opened an air-window for the call. Rather, she’d sent the audio stream directly to her headphones. The voice on the other end belonged to Ayato.

  “I see. Are you sure it’s okay, telling me this?”

  “You’d do the same if our situations were reversed, right?” Ayato said half-teasingly, but his voiced seemed emboldened with conviction.

  “…Yes. Thank you. This will be a great help.” She closed her eyes, clenching a hand at her chest.

  “Ah, I know it’s a bit late now, but I wanted to thank you for lunch the other day, too. It was delicious.”

  “Oh, that? Thanks. I did say I was confident in it, but to be honest, I
still wasn’t sure if it was the kind of thing you’d like…”

  “…It’s just a shame I wasn’t able to savor it properly, the time and place being what they were…”

  “Huh? Oh, before the match. Well, there’s no helping that, I guess.”

  “Ha-ha…,” Ayato said, but he seemed to be holding back—as if he wanted to add something but wasn’t quite sure how.

  “By the way, round five starts tomorrow, right? Do your best! I’ll be cheering for you!”

  “Shouldn’t you be supporting Rusalka? You know, given your position?”

  “Of course, I’ll be cheering for them, too. They are my cute little juniors, after all.”

  She genuinely believed that.

  It was precisely because Sylvia could judge situations appropriately—though in her own way—and differentiate between concerns and responsibilities that she was able to do so. No matter what kind of problem lay in front of her, that was her basic approach for dealing with things.

  This wasn’t to say that she had the wisdom of a saint. There were, of course, things she wasn’t able to look at objectively, just as there were times when she found herself unable to clear her mind from worry.

  But she didn’t have any particular dislike for that side of herself.

  “Ah, sorry, Ayato. It looks like it’s time.”

  “Right. See you later, then.”

  With that, Sylvia ended the call before once again confirming everything and heading down the freshly cleaned corridor.

  She was on the top floor of the east wing of the Twin Hall at Queenvale Academy for Young Ladies.

  She knocked lightly at the large double door at the end of the corridor, and when there was no response, she decided to go inside.

  “…Oh?”

  With the exception of the space left over for the entrance and a window at the far end, every wall in the room was fitted with panes of glass. It was a sterile, bleak room, outfitted with nothing else but a desk and chair situated directly across from the door. A woman wearing a visor-like pair of glasses sat behind the desk, surrounded by several open air-windows.

  It was a familiar enough sight, but to Sylvia’s surprise, there were already five other visitors.