The Asterisk War, Vol. 5: Battle for the Crown

by Yuu Miyazaki

  As Ardy spoke, Ayato noticed that countless cracks had appeared in his armor, revealing the same blue light. His body was unable to withstand the energy output.

  “Here I come!”

  The Puppet showed no hesitation as he formed another hammerhead of barriers and charged. Ayato readied the Ser Veresta at his side to face him.

  “Raaagh!”

  “Ngh!”

  Ardy’s attack was clearly faster and heavier than when they had faced each other moments before. Wielding the enormous hammer should have posed a significant difficulty, but Ardy’s overwhelming power output and learning capacity allowed him to overcome it.

  After exchanging several strikes, Ayato found himself on the defensive. Although not as large as the hammer, the size of the Ser Veresta was slowing him down. He could barely keep up with Ardy’s newfound speed.

  It’s only a matter of time before he overtakes me…!

  “Ayato, get back!” Julis cried sharply.

  Quickly realizing what she meant, Ayato used the flat of the Ser Veresta to block Ardy’s swinging hammer and let the momentum carry him into a backward leap.

  “Hmm, something else up your sleeve?” Ardy rumbled, sounding amused. “Very well, I shall prove to you that nothing will work on me now!”

  “Oh, is that so? Then take this!” Julis swung the Aspera Spina down as a giant magic circle lit up at Ardy’s feet.

  “Blossom—Rafflesia!”

  A fiery flower of extraordinary size materialized in front of Ardy’s face and began expanding.

  But their opponent only bellowed with laughter. “Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Look well! See what I can do in this state!”

  Defensive barriers materialized in four directions, boxing in the flower and crushing its petals.

  Flames and explosions raged inside the box, but the barriers did not give in the least.

  “That’s not possible…,” Julis muttered, stupefied.

  Her shock was understandable, since the Rafflesia was her most powerful conditional move. The Gravisheath had defended against it once, but only partially. This total shutdown of her technique came as an unwelcome surprise.

  “Now it’s my turn!” Ardy held out his palm, and barriers formed and layered atop one another to form a massive sphere. An enormous amount of energy began pouring into it. He was directing the output of the urm-manadite there—a ball of raw power.

  Then Ardy closed his hand, and the sphere shrank to fit inside his fist.

  “No way…!” Ayato’s instincts screamed that he was in extreme and immediate danger—but there was nothing he could do.

  “And now— Explode!”

  When Ardy opened his fist, all the condensed energy was released at once.

  The violent explosion engulfed the whole arena. There was nowhere to run.

  “—”

  The flash turned Ayato’s field of vision to blank white, and the roar of the explosion drowned out Julis’s scream.

  After being blown away like so much dust, he almost lost consciousness. Luckily—if it could be called lucky—the searing pain running through his body forced him to stay awake.

  “Guh…agh…”

  With a groan, Ayato managed to prop himself up and ascertain the situation. His school uniform with its reinforced composite fabrics was ripped in several places, but the crest was intact despite a few cracks. Had he protected it subconsciously?

  He looked around in relief and froze.

  The arena before him was completely destroyed.

  The ground was carved out into a crater, baring the artificial soil designed to absorb impact. Even the defensive barriers protecting the spectator stands were sparking here and there.

  Only a small space at the center of the explosion remained unscathed. Countless barriers covered Ardy with a dome of defense.

  He was standing in the middle of that explosion—and he’s not even scratched?

  That meant Ardy’s barrier might be strong enough to withstand the Ser Veresta. Things could be different if Ayato were able to draw out the full power of the sword, but at the moment, he was no match for Ardy wielding his urm-manadite to the fullest.

  “Bwa-ha-ha-ha! Let us continue! I’m still—” Suddenly, Ardy dropped to his knees. “Hrm…?”

  Was it was deterioration due to the urm-manadite’s elevated output? His legs were discharging blue sparks.

  Ardy did not appear to be too seriously hurt, but Ayato was glad for the time it bought him to regroup. If an attack had come then, he wouldn’t have been ready to defend himself.

  “Ayato, how are you doing…?”

  Ayato turned around at the faint voice to see Julis dragging herself up. But with an agonized expression, she immediately dropped to the ground again.

  “Julis!”

  “I-I’m fine…is what I’d like to say, but obviously, that would be a stretch…” As Ayato supported her, Julis lay weak in his arms, smiling ruefully. “Tell me the truth… Do you think we can still win?”

  “…Well, I don’t think it’s completely hopeless.”

  If they could keep buying time, it seemed likely that Ardy would break down.

  But actually, he doubted they could get that much time. They were already at the limits of what they could endure. He did still have prana to spare, but the cumulative damage had worn down his stamina.

  He could cross weapons with Ardy perhaps ten or twelve more times.

  “That doesn’t sound terribly realistic,” Julis said. “Do you have anything else?”

  “If I could just move faster than he does, I’d have a shot at finishing him off…”

  But he was trailing in speed, and he couldn’t even dive in for one final charge.

  He might try a Meteor Arts move—but while that would make his attack stronger, it would also make the sword larger, slowing him down even more. He’d never be able to hit Ardy.

  “Faster…” Julis looked up at him with a gasp, as if she’d thought of something important. “I remember Claudia saying that the Ser Veresta assumes a shape that’s best for the one who wields it. But its current form isn’t exactly meeting that criterion. If we could do something to fix that, would it help?”

  “I mean, it’s a good idea, but…”

  “You made it larger to use a Meteor Arts technique. Isn’t that essentially the same thing?”

  She made it sound easy, but in fact all Ayato had done then was to pour in his prana.

  “I’m bad at fine-tuning my prana,” he pointed out. “Really bad.”

  “Hmm…” Julis thought for a bit, then told him with firm resolve, “All right. I’ll do that part.”

  “Huh?”

  “Let me touch the Ser Veresta for a second.” Ignoring his bewilderment, Julis reached for the Lux in his grip.

  “Hey, wait—!”

  Wincing in pain, the girl quickly let go of the sword. She had touched it for only a moment, but her palm was hideously burned. “Heh… It is hard to handle. It won’t let just anyone so much as touch it. Well, a Strega like me would never be able to use it.”

  She had told Ayato before that most Dantes and Stregas could not use an Orga Lux.

  “No matter,” she went on. “That should be enough. Ayato, try using a Meteor Arts technique.”

  “Meteor Arts? Now?”

  She nodded, and Ayato poured his prana into the sword in his hand. In response, the blade lengthened. Julis placed her right hand atop his.

  “Julis…?”

  “Burst into bloom—Alexandrit.”

  Julis’s prana flowed through Ayato’s right arm, and bright flames coiled around the Ser Veresta’s blade.

  “What’s this…?”

  “It’s a technique to wrap a weapon in fire,” she replied, “but now I’ll use it to help you control your prana. All you have to do is pour it in.”

  “O-okay…!” Ayato put his faith in Julis and obeyed. The Ser Veresta abruptly stopped growing.

  “Ayato, imagine it. The shape and size eas
iest for you to use—the ideal form for the Ser Veresta.”

  “…”

  He kept silent and pictured it.

  Julis’s flames wrapped around the blade in a spiral and squeezed it; then black symbols did the same.

  The urm-manadite core glowed stronger and shook with a low growl.

  At last, the Ser Veresta transformed into a slender, supple weapon a little larger than Kirin’s Senbakiri. Along the length of its blade, the black symbols and flames intertwined to create a wondrously beautiful weapon.

  “Phew… There. This is your—Ayato Amagiri’s—Ser Veresta.” Julis exhaled heavily and gave him a faint smile.

  “It’s…,” he said in wonder.

  “That’s all I can do in this match. I’m leaving the rest to you, Ayato.”

  “…Got it, Julis.” Ayato gently laid her down and swung the Ser Veresta toward Ardy, facing his opponent once more.

  “Sorry to make you wait,” he said.

  “Not to worry. I had a slight malfunction on my part as well. I had to make some stopgap repairs.”

  Ayato walked slowly to the center of the stage—or rather, the field of dirt scattered with pieces of the stage.

  Opposite him, Ardy also advanced at a steady pace. The two came in range, and—

  They closed in, clashing in the middle of the stage.

  With a ferocious shout, Ayato swung the Ser Veresta.

  This is amazing! I can’t believe how light it feels; it works so much better!

  It seemed like his sword was twice as fast.

  Ardy barely blocked the strike with his hammer, but the head made of barriers was knocked away—and not cut through; it was simply melted and repelled by the heat.

  “What—?!” He started, but he quickly rematerialized his weapon and brought it down.

  Even if Ayato had eliminated his disadvantage in speed and improved his weapon enough to win, one blow from his opponent would be the end. He didn’t have the stamina to continue parrying and countering.

  I have to settle this now—!

  Ayato barely dodged the attack, then made a thrust at the crest on Ardy’s chest with all his might. But the hammer blasted through the bottom of the stage.

  “Guh!”

  Ayato leaped away from the chasm opening at his feet as Ardy launched into the air with his flight unit and locked onto his opponent.

  “I have you now!”

  His hammer rushed at Ayato with a force that might have crushed the wind itself—but Ayato used the flying fragments of the stage to leap even higher. He felt as if his body was surpassing its own limits, but he was confident that he had the ability now to make that possible.

  He used shiki to grasp where the largest fragments were, and he sprang from one to another to get behind his victim.

  “Raaaagh! Not so fast!” Ardy roared. His blue aura shone even brighter, and his flight unit fired like a rocket to turn him around. At the same time, Ardy swung his hammer sideways to meet his foe.

  But—

  “Amagiri Shinmei Style Master Technique—Hellmoon!”

  Ayato had already leaped in under Ardy’s guard.

  As the hammer shattered the broken slab where Ayato had just been, the Ser Veresta traced a half-moon arc.

  The two fighters passed each other in midair and, unable to land properly, crashed into the ground with impressive plumes of dust.

  Ayato lay on his back, panting, pushed too hard for too long. He could no longer stand up, let alone swing his sword again. All he could see was one bright light on the distant ceiling shining down straight at him.

  What had happened to Ardy? Had the Ser Veresta reached him?

  He didn’t have the energy to look. But he didn’t have to—the automated announcements let him know instead.

  “Ernesta Kühne—badge broken.”

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

  As silence settled over the arena, a more human-sounding mechanical voice burst into laughter. “Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Oh, I’ve suffered a crushing defeat!”

  The applause began with a few scattered claps, but it gradually swelled into a thunderous cheer.

  “At…At last! At last it’s decided! We have our winners! At the end of this incredible battle, the champions of the Phoenix are Amagiri and Riessfeld of Seidoukan Academy!”

  “Well, I was completely lost in it there, so. That was a fantastic fight, just what a championship match should be!”

  Cheers and applause, ovations and whistles, the voices of the two announcers. As the adulation washed over Ayato, he slowly closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh.

  CHAPTER 7

  CEREMONIES

  Since the stage in the Sirius Dome was now in no condition to serve as a venue, the closing ceremonies were hastily moved to the Procyon Dome. Fewer students would participate compared to the opening ceremony, so a slightly smaller venue would not pose a problem.

  In fact, only the champions and the second-place team were to participate in the award ceremony, which did nothing to make Ayato more comfortable on stage. After the match, Julis had been immediately taken to the therapy center, and Ernesta had hauled Ardy off to the lab—meaning that at this moment, the only contestants on the stage were Ayato, Camilla, and Rimcy.

  Meanwhile, the stands were packed to the brim with people. Anyone could attend the ceremonies (as capacity allowed), and the more entertaining the championship match, the more people stayed for the closing ceremonies. The full house proved that the spectators had been very happy with the battle.

  “…And all of this only goes to show how splendid this Phoenix tournament was. In particular, the special provisions for the two fighters from Allekant Académie, while implemented strictly on a trial basis, are sure to have significant impact on the rules for future tournaments…”

  Up on the dais, the Executive Committee chairman, Madiath Mesa, was presenting his thoughts on the tournament. Whereas his words at the opening ceremonies had been directed primarily to the students, now he was speaking to the audience, here and at home. He sounded slightly more formal.

  The student council presidents of each school were also lined up on the dais. As Ayato scanned their faces, his eyes met those of the president of the Queenvale Academy for Young Ladies.

  Sylvia gave him a tiny smile and a mischievous wink. Ayato’s heart skipped a beat, but she quickly looked away.

  Just as reality set in that this girl was the Sylvia Lyyneheym, he saw that others had their eyes on him, too—namely, the student council presidents of St. Gallardworth Academy and Jie Long Seventh Institute. The latter’s eyes were sparkling, which was unnerving.

  In contrast, the student council president of Le Wolfe Black Institute, Dirk Eberwein, did not even glance his way. They had no proof that Dirk was behind the earlier incident; they’d simply have to await the findings of the city guard’s investigation.

  Claudia had contacted the guard once she was told that Flora had been rescued. She took Julis’s place at Ayato’s side for the post-match interview, and there, she revealed the kidnapping to the public. The press conference room erupted into chaos, such that extra time had to be allotted for the interview, and the award ceremony—originally scheduled for early evening—was now taking place so late that it was completely dark out.

  It seemed Claudia had received a stern dressing-down for failing to report the kidnapping right away.

  “Now, let us welcome the winning and runner-up teams of the Twenty-fourth Phoenix tournament. Please step up, all three of you.”

  Beckoned by Madiath, Ayato climbed the dais to loud applause from the stands.

  “First, I commend the distinguished skill and determination of Camilla Pareto and Ernesta Kühne, alongside the splendid performance of Ardy and Rimcy. Congratulations.” Madiath shook hands with Camilla and handed her a large trophy.

  “It’s an honor, chairman,” she replied.

  “I don�
�t think it’s an understatement to say that your contributions mark a new chapter in the history of the Festa. We must continue to evolve, and to do that, we need talents like yours. I look forward to seeing your future accomplishments.” Madiath then faced Rimcy to shake her hand. “I can’t say how Puppets will be treated in the Festa going forward, but your performance in this tournament is sure to play a significant role in deciding that.”

  “…Much appreciated, sir,” Rimcy said with her usual cool expression.

  “And I commend the unbreakable spirit and glorious victory of Ayato Amagiri and Julis-Alexia von Riessfeld. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Madiath’s strong hand gripped his. “You persevered despite the interference against you in the championship. You are truly deserving of this trophy. We on the Executive Committee promise to fully cooperate with the city guard to uncover the truth. Rest assured that something like this will never happen again.”

  “Thank you.”

  The trophy was carved with a hexagonal emblem, the symbol of Asterisk. It was bigger than the one Camilla held and massively heavy in Ayato’s hands.

  “I personally enjoyed your match very much. I’m looking forward to seeing you fight again in the next Festa.”

  “Uh—yes, sir…”

  Madiath nodded to him with a smile and placed a hand on Ayato’s shoulder, prompting him to turn around. It was then that Ayato saw the gaggle of reporters surrounding the stage.

  “Now—let us applaud the fighters who won our hearts and provided us with unparalleled excitement and drama!”

  On Madiath’s cue, the entire arena burst into thunderous cheers and applause.

  It was the greatest and most passionate ovation since the Phoenix had begun. He felt like he was in the eye of a typhoon.

  Even as he stood there blankly, at a loss for how to respond to the adoration, Ayato was experiencing the satisfaction of a task accomplished.

  With the award ceremony concluded, Ayato and Claudia headed to the prep room together.

  “What would you like to do now?” Claudia asked. “There’s a reception, but your attendance isn’t mandatory.”

  “Then I’d like to head to the therapy center. I want to see how Julis and Kirin are doing.”