by Yuu Miyazaki
“When it comes to the raw amount of prana, he might be neck and neck with our own company president. I wonder if he’d come join us when he graduates. Bet he’d be able to go straight into the field.”
Amid the excitement and fervor, the Gallardworth team stood in stunned silence.
As Ayato walked back to Julis, feeling a little bad for their opponents, she raised her hand to greet him.
“Hmm. I expected nothing less.” She smiled proudly, and he high-fived her.
The two left the stage after a match less than ten seconds long. It was an instant victory.
“Now we’ll be interviewed as the winners. No matter what they ask you, be as vague as you can. We don’t want to give the competition anything to work with,” Julis firmly reminded him.
“Got it. But you had me worried for a bit. You didn’t even activate your weapon.”
“Oh, no need to worry. I laid traps for them with my fixed ability. If they’d stepped too close—boom.” With a fearless smirk, Julis opened her fist to mimic an explosion. “In any case, we got through the first round without revealing our combination attacks. Let’s try to keep doing that.”
Above all, they wanted to keep it hidden that Ayato’s full strength had a time limit. A few might have gleaned some idea from watching his duels, but they wanted to avoid confirming any suspicions. In fact, they would have preferred not to break the seal publicly at all, but he could run out of time if he did it before the match began. Just as they had hoped, the crowd figured it was a type of showmanship. Neither Julis nor Ayato believed they could keep the secret all the way through the Festa, but it was better to do so for as long as possible.
One more thing they wanted to keep under wraps was their combination moves. Ayato and Julis had only been partners for about two months. While they had polished their teamwork as well as they could, they would inevitably fall short compared to pairs who had been fighting together for years.
Round-one opponents were one thing, but against those who could compete with Ayato, teamwork was going to be the key to victory. They wanted to go for as long as possible without revealing their moves.
“We won’t run into any of the favorites during the rest of the preliminary rounds. Let’s keep our cards close as much as possible until the main tournament.” Julis’s tone was light, but her face was tense with resolve as they walked down the corridor to the press room.
“Whew. We’re back!”
“Sheesh…”
After returning to the waiting room, Ayato and Julis plopped down on the sofa in exhaustion.
“Oh! There you are!” Kirin exclaimed. “Congratulations!”
“…Why are you so tired?” Saya asked. “It was instant death for them.”
Because the two had been watching, Saya and Kirin regarded them curiously.
“Well, the match was just fine,” Ayato replied with a pained smile. “But the press conference after that…”
“The media from outside are so pushy. Compared to that, I’d much rather deal with our journalism clubs.” Looking thoroughly fed up, Julis chugged down the drink that Kirin offered her.
Indeed, the winners’ interview after the match was beyond draining. Of course the interviewers asked about Ayato’s flashy moves and the Ser Veresta, but they also inquired about his relationship with Julis and his reasons for entering the tournament. Eventually, they were hounding him for details about his private life that had nothing at all to do with the tournament, like his favorite food. The whole process dragged on for nearly an hour. By the end, it had completely drained them.
“Why, such kind words,” came a voice near the wall.
“Oh, you’re here, Eishirou.”
“Well, congrats on your first win!” Eishirou grinned and took a picture of the two with his mobile.
“Just to be clear, I only said that you were better by comparison,” Julis told him flatly. “Don’t mistake that for any sudden affection on my part.”
Eishirou shrugged theatrically. “Oh, of course. Your Highness is as severe as ever, I see.”
Ayato or Julis could grant others access to enter or leave their waiting room as they pleased. Anyone else had to be let in from the inside. Saya and Kirin were the only ones with access, so the two must have let Eishirou in.
“So, what brings you here? You didn’t come to cheer us on, did you?” Ayato asked.
It was already August, and most of the students who were not fighting in the Phoenix were on summer vacation.
Usually, gaining permission to leave Asterisk was not easy, but exceptions were made for long school breaks, and many students went home for the summer. On the other hand, many also decided to remain, as Eishirou had; the ratio was actually close to fifty-fifty.
“Well, you don’t need me in your corner against opponents like that. I’m here for the third match.”
“I see. Allekant.” Julis nodded.
“Naturally, that announcement at the opening ceremony whet my journalist’s appetite. They can say what they like, but the rule adjustment has everything to do with those two from Allekant. That’s patently obvious. So I headed right over to their waiting room, and…”
“What did you find, Yabuki?” Saya strode up and planted herself in front of him.
“Nope. Total lockdown. Security was so tight not even a mouse could sneak in. They would have slammed the door in my face, if there was a door to slam.”
“…Oh.” Saya’s shoulders drooped.
“Well, no need to fret over that now. It’s almost time for the third match,” Julis said.
“Speaking of time,” Ayato said, “don’t Lester and Randy have their match soon?”
“Oh, yes. They were scheduled to fight in the Capella Dome, so it should be…” Kirin turned on the television and flipped through channels until the screen showed Lester’s towering frame wielding the Bardiche-Leo.
“Hmm, they’ve already started,” Julis said.
“Oh, good, it looks like they have the upper hand,” Ayato observed.
Behind Lester, Randy fired a rapid stream of arrows. They fought well as a team, perhaps because they had known each other for a good while.
“I would’ve liked to go root for them in person, if our matches were on different days,” Ayato thought out loud.
“You’d be lucky if he just chased you off,” Julis teased. “It’s better this way.”
“…They are pretty good, though,” Saya said, impressed with Randy’s marksmanship.
“Well, MacPhail is a Page One, after all. And Randy Hooke used to be a ranked fighter. He’s no slouch, either,” Eishirou said.
“Their opponents are from Allekant,” Kirin commented.
Lester’s physical prowess was overwhelming both of his adversaries. He was in his element here. Randy provided superb ranged support himself, pinning down their competition as they tried to escape Lester’s range of attack.
While the group gave their full attention to the match, suddenly a rumbling roar reached them through the walls.
“Wha…?!” They looked at one another in surprise, but then identified the noise.
It was cheering.
“Aw, crap! It started already?!” Eishirou hurried to open another air-screen.
They knew there could only be one reason for the crowd’s enthusiasm.
The earth-shaking hurrah went on and on, putting the reception of Ayato and Julis’s sensational debut to shame with its fervor. The crowd was not just excited, but shocked.
Just as the five in the waiting room had expected, the screen showed two figures—not humans, but humanoid machines.
CHAPTER 3
AR-D AND RM-C
Of the two machines now standing onstage at the Sirius Dome, one closely resembled a battle puppet. It was, however, a good deal larger than the models in standard use. Standing over seven feet tall and shaped like medieval armor, it looked like a mechanical knight.
In contrast, the other was hardly distinguishable from a huma
n—a woman, to be precise. Its face was almost too perfectly shaped, and its sleek body was wrapped in a metallic suit.
Both machines wore the school crest of Allekant Academy, the Dark Owl, on their chests.
“Here we go! The new Puppets from Allekant have finally been unveiled. In this tournament, they are proxies for Ernesta Kühne and Camilla Pareto. What do you think, Ms. Tram?”
“Well. In my line of work, I’ve fought a ton of Puppets, but I don’t think the ones I’ve fought would be any match for Genestella, no matter how much they improve on the specs. So far, most battle Puppets have been externally controlled, and they could never beat us because they just can’t respond as fast as a person. There’ll always be that lag, so.”
“I see, I see. But they say these Puppets are autonomous?”
“Well, it’s true that sentient artificial intelligence—that is, AI that can make its own decisions—has been used in the field. Still, I’ve never seen any that can make decisions in battle at the same level as Genestella, so.”
“Oh, is that right? But the regulations were even changed so these two could fight. That means they must be better… Oh, excuse me… Hmm. Uh-huh…? Um, ahem! Sorry about that—Up here at the booth, we’ve just received more information on these two. And our source is none other than their developer, Ernesta Kühne!”
“Ooh, that’s quite generous of her.”
“She says she’s releasing the information today. And… Let’s see. According to this, the bigger one is Automated Puppet Prototype AR-D, or Ardy, and the female one is Automated Puppet Prototype RM-C, or Rimcy.”
“They’re proxy fighters, so should we refer to them as if they’re human contestants?”
“Ah-ha-ha, I’m not sure about that. But there is a lot of interesting information here. For example…”
During the exchange between the announcer and commentator, Ardy and Rimcy’s opponent—Moritz, the Spiral Mage, Septentrio ranked twelve at Le Wolfe Black Institute—clicked his tongue in irritation.
“I don’t like this one bit! Those mechanical dolls are getting all the attention…”
Moritz’s spiked-up black hair resembled a dead tree, but his eyes glinted with unusual ferocity. He spoke with a formal tone and—what was more atypical for a Le Wolfe student—he wore his uniform properly.
As a Page One fighter from Le Wolfe, albeit the lowest on the page, he would have drawn attention as a tournament favorite under normal circumstances. But it was clear who the main attraction on this stage was.
“The organizers have some nerve, using me as a prop for those flashy things…!”
“So what do you want to do, boss?” asked Gerd, his tag partner, activating his Lux behind him. Gerd had an austere and sturdy build, and he rested the assault rifle on his shoulder with the air of a practiced fighter.
Moritz led a group of several dozen students, and Gerd was one of his followers. He was an excellent shot, and the two had successfully reached the main tournament in last season’s Phoenix. A man of few words and obedient besides, Gerd made an ideal partner.
“What is there to do?” Moritz replied. “The same as always. You just concentrate on backing me up.”
Without any data on their opponent, they could not formulate a plan. Facing a completely unfamiliar adversary was not rare in a Festa event; all the schools often deployed previously unknown wild cards into the mix. But even by those standards, this was unusual.
Then suddenly—
“You two humans—hear me!” Ardy’s call to Moritz and Gerd was so loud, the vibrations buzzed on their skin. “I stand upon this battlefield at the command of my great master! I aspire not for victory, but to let the world know of the powers she has bestowed upon me! You two will be the first sacrifice upon which I build her glory!”
His speech was so unbelievably frank, so astoundingly haughty, it was hard to believe Ardy was a robot at all.
Moritz was completely dumbfounded.
Ardy ignored him and went on. “I shall give you one minute’s time, during which I shall not move a single finger. Attack me to your heart’s content.”
A blue vein protruded on Moritz’s temple, and his eyes flared with rage. “Why, you—!”
But just as Moritz took one step forward, a bullet of light smashed into the side of Ardy’s head. His head tilted slightly at the impact, accompanied by a dull boom.
“That hurt, Rimcy,” Ardy gruffly complained to his partner.
“Silence,” Rimcy answered coldly without even turning to him. She held a large handgun-type Lux. “You dull, dim-witted, vapid, ignorant piece of junk. On what authority do you utter such foolishness? If you have the energy for inane prattle, you should use it in our master’s service. We are to follow her orders, faithfully and without fail—nothing more. I would tell you to go back to the lab for maintenance on your head, but that would only make extra work for our master. You should simply break down here and be terminated. I would be happy to lend a hand.”
She spoke just as articulately as Ardy—much more so, in fact. But her chilly disposition seemed more appropriate to a machine.
(Attacking before the start of a Festa match was a violation punishable by immediate disqualification. This rule did not apply, however, in the case of an attack against one’s own teammate.)
“Say what you will, Rimcy, but foes like these would be insufficient to make the masses understand our excellence and our master’s sublime magnificence. This is why I deemed it necessary to give the audience some sort of, well, showmanship…”
“Indeed, it is a wonderful idea to impress upon the world the greatness of our master. I give you credit for that.”
“Ah, so you do see!” Ardy happily nodded several times. “Hmm…? Wait, then why did you shoot me?”
“Because I also found it rather annoying,” Rimcy deadpanned.
“…Oh. Well then, so be it.” Rubbing the place where he was shot, Ardy shut his mouth.
Rimcy sighed at him and turned back to Moritz and Gerd. “Now, humans—even though that pronouncement was uttered by a defective failure, taking it back may bring shame to our master. Therefore, I also—albeit reluctantly—promise not to attack you for one minute.”
As if this brought him to a place beyond anger, Moritz wore a thin smirk, astounded and condescending. An incredulous laugh broke from him. “Very well, I’ll take you up on that generosity, then!”
Now that he had a moment to think about it, their opponents were offering to fight them at a disadvantage. This was no reason to be angry. He did not care for being underestimated, but that was trivial if it would gain him a victory in a Festa tournament.
“Gerd, you get the thin one. I’ll take the hulking one.”
“Roger,” Gerd said from behind him.
“Well then, this is quite an interesting development… But it’s almost time for us to start! Which team will win this riveting match?!”
Just as the announcer finished speaking, the school crests declared the start of the duel.
“Phoenix Block H, Round One, Match One— Begin!”
Moritz immediately rushed at Ardy from the front.
Swirling winds rose up and wrapped around his arms, creating miniature tornadoes like drills.
This was Moritz’s power as a Dante: Borea Spira, a wind that could gouge through any substance. Despite its lack of flexibility, in terms of simple destructive power the ability was among the best at Le Wolfe.
In fact, his ability was so powerful and his willingness to use it so aggressive that he had been penalized for deliberate cruelty in a past match.
But, luckily for him, these opponents were not human. He wouldn’t have to restrain himself at all.
One minute is more than enough time. I’ll turn you into a heap of scrap before anyone can blink…!
The wind drills roared, whirring faster and faster.
Ardy stood perfectly still with his arms crossed, true to his declaration.
“You’re brave, I’ll
give you that,” Moritz laughed. “I’ll open a nice gaping hole in your metal gut, just like you asked for!”
Ardy remained in unmoving dignity. Moritz thrust out his right arm to drive his wind through Ardy’s torso, but then—
“What?!”
Without warning, a translucent wall of light appeared in front of Ardy to block the blow. It was some three feet wide and six feet tall but had no thickness at all. At first glance, it resembled an air-screen, but it exerted physical resistance.
Moritz snarled. “Don’t assume that a trick like that can save you from my power!”
The Borea Spira on Moritz’s arms whined even louder, spinning more fiercely. Sparks fell from the point of contact, and the whole arena reverberated with the shrieking, grinding noise. Still, the wall did not budge.
“It is no use,” Ardy said loftily.
His voice held both unconcealed pride and the candor of speaking a hard truth.
“Peh! In that case…” In an instant, Moritz moved around behind Ardy, then drove the Borea Spira into his back.
I don’t know how that thing works, but if I attack him from a blind spot…
To make the most of his powers, which specialized in close-range combat, Moritz had trained himself well in martial arts. He was sure that his fluid motion would make it seem as if he had vanished. He struck with absolute confidence, but the result once again fell short.
The light blocked his attack as suddenly as before, Moritz was flabbergasted to find.
Ardy stood unperturbed, not even looking in Moritz’s direction. “Forty-five more seconds,” he said.
Feeling an indescribable terror, Moritz instinctively leaped away from his opponent. Cold sweat trickled down his back.
What if they were facing something beyond them?
The thought flashed through his mind, and Moritz shook his head to chase it away.
“Gerd, change of plans! Get over here and…,” he began, turning, but trailed off as his eyes went wide.
Gerd appeared to be engaged in an intense firefight with the other Puppet, Rimcy. Both held large gun-type Luxes, and countless bullets of light flew between them.
