The Asterisk War, Vol. 3: The Phoenix War Dance

by Yuu Miyazaki

  “Irene?” Priscilla warned.

  “Just asking! I’m just asking! I’m not gonna do anything to him! That’s okay, right?”

  “Hmmm…” As Priscilla regarded Irene with suspicion, Ayato chuckled uncomfortably.

  “It’s okay,” he told Priscilla, then turned to Irene. “What do you want to ask?”

  “First. The dudes lying around down there. Did you do that?”

  “Do…what?” Ayato didn’t understand the question, so he had to return it with one of his own.

  Irene stared straight into his eyes for a good bit, then let out a sigh. “Fine, never mind. The second question: Priscilla says you came this way by coincidence. But what were you doing in the back alleys?”

  “I was just…” Ayato suddenly remembered the reason he was there in the first place. “Oh, that’s right!”

  He hurriedly took out his mobile and placed a call to Saya. After a few rings, an air-window opened to show his friend’s face.

  “Are you okay, Saya? Where are you now?”

  “I’m okay. The problem was solved just a little while ago.”

  “Oh, Ayato. I’m glad you called. I found Saya.” Kirin poked her head into the frame with a relieved smile on her face.

  “Oh, that’s good.” Ayato put his hand to his chest, his mind at ease.

  So Kirin had gotten to Saya before she caused any trouble.

  “And where are you, Ayato?” Saya asked.

  “I don’t think I’m very far from you, actually… Kirin, do you want to meet at that same corner? …Okay. See you.”

  Ayato finished the call and put away his mobile. Irene and Priscilla stared at him, bewildered.

  “That’s all… I was looking for a friend of mine who got lost,” he explained.

  “I told you, Irene,” Priscilla gloated.

  Irene stood abashedly scratching her head, then finally let out a long breath and dropped her shoulders. “Tch. All right, I guess I owe you one.”

  “Don’t worry about it. We all have to help each other out when things get tough.”

  Ayato was completely sincere, but Irene shook her head, exasperated. “It’s not that easy… I gotta pay you back sooner rather than later, or it’ll get weird.”

  At Ayato’s and Priscilla’s empty expressions, Irene heaved another sigh. Taking out her mobile, she showed them an air-window.

  It displayed a tournament bracket.

  “Oh, right. They must have announced the matchups for the main tournament.” Ayato reflexively searched for his own name, and when he read the bracket, his jaw fell open.

  Phoenix—Round Four.

  In the space for Julis and Ayato’s opponents, along with the school crest of Le Wolfe Black Institute, were the names Irene Urzaiz and Priscilla Urzaiz.

  CHAPTER 6

  POWER AND ITS COST

  “T-t-t-t-trouble, Mr. President!”

  Pale with worry, Korona Kashimaru dashed into the office of the student council president—until her legs tangled, and she fell flat on her face.

  The Le Wolfe office was located in the deepest part of its central school building. It had no windows nor decorations of any kind. It was, however, far from poorly furnished. There were no more pieces than necessary, but each one was massive, both imposing and elegant.

  “…What is it?” Dirk, seated in a chair that swallowed his frame, did not even look at Korona, making only a token response as he went through the electronic paperwork in front of him.

  “W-well, this is rather sudden, but Miss Urzaiz says she would like a word with you…,” Korona told him, rubbing the bruised end of her nose.

  Just as the words were out of her mouth, the office door blew off its hinges with a tremendous blast. She yelped in terror.

  “Hey, Dirk. Sorry to bother ya.”

  Korona gingerly turned to see Irene standing in the doorway, gripping the Gravisheath and wearing a dauntless smile on her face.

  Beyond Irene, Korona saw the security detail in a pile on the floor.

  Whimpering, Korona managed to crawl to where Dirk sat and hid behind him.

  “Irene, I’m busier than I look. I don’t see people without an appointment.” Dirk glanced up from the documents, at least, but otherwise sat completely unfazed.

  “Is that right? Then let’s make this quick.” Just then, Irene nonchalantly struck with the Gravisheath.

  Dirk’s desk split in two, and Korona jumped up, yelping.

  Dirk did not even raise an eyebrow. “What are you trying to do?”

  “I oughta be asking you that. I thought you were a guy to keep promises, if nothing else.”

  “That’s right. I always keep my promises. If I didn’t, I’d be in a cemetery by now.”

  “You’ve got some balls, telling me that!” An evil bloodthirsty aura rose from Irene’s body, and the Gravisheath growled.

  But in the next instant, she sprang back, crouching, and glanced cautiously around the room.

  She clicked her tongue. “You’ve got Cats here, too?!”

  “Unlike you, I’m a fragile ordinary civilian. It’s only natural I take precautions.”

  “Cats” was a codename for students belonging to Grimalkin, an organization that undertook covert activities at the direct orders of the student council. Korona had never seen a Cat; she did not even know how the organization functioned. All she knew was that they were divided into Silver Eyes, who operated within the school, and Gold Eyes, who focused on intelligence gathering and operations outside the school.

  Her knees buckling with fear, Korona tried to spot them—but she saw no one other than Dirk and Irene. There was really nowhere in this room to hide in the first place.

  Still, Irene seemed to sense their presence, and remained warily still, braced for combat.

  “Well, let’s hear why you think I broke my promise,” Dirk said from his seat.

  “Priscilla was attacked today. Don’t pretend like you didn’t know.”

  “Oh, that,” Dirk said casually, as if remembering some trivial event. “You don’t suspect me, do you? Anyway, wasn’t it the idiots from Rotlicht? That’s something you started.”

  “Yeah, I did. But Priscilla’s protection was included in our contract. You gonna tell me you forgot that part?!”

  “Of course I didn’t,” Dirk replied. “My people know not to attack you or your sister, and I told them to teach a lesson to the guys who attacked you the other day. But there are those in our school who still refuse to obey me. You know that.”

  “Then why d’you let them do whatever they want? Just take care of ’em already.” Having reined in her temper a bit, Irene flopped onto the sofa while still glaring at Dirk.

  “Even idiots can be useful.”

  “Useful…? Fine, whatever. Still, Dirk, I thought that the Cats were supposed to be with Priscilla when I’m not around. What the hell were they doing?!”

  “Yes, I’ve assigned Cats to her. I guess they were a little late this time,” Dirk said with a bored sniff.

  “A little late…?” The menacing glow shone again in Irene’s eyes.

  “She’s a regenerative anyway. So what if she gets a little roughed up?”

  Slowly, silently, keeping her head down, Irene rose and easily hefted the Gravisheath.

  The purple scythe rattled in her hands. It sounded to Korona like the weapon was cackling.

  “…Die.” Her voice was emotionless, inorganic.

  But the scythe came down in a stroke swift enough to cleave the wind.

  Its point whizzed toward Dirk’s throat with pinpoint precision. At the very last instant, however, it changed direction, as if blocked by an invisible wall.

  Still, the blade grazed Dirk’s face, leaving a red streak on his cheek.

  Irene took a step back to prepare for the next attack. Head still bowed, she readied the Gravisheath again.

  “Hmph. That thing’s gotten quite a hold on you…” Dirk scowled—as he often did—then brusquely raised his voice. “Hey
, Irene. Who’ll suffer the most when I’m gone?”

  At that, Irene snapped her head up with a tiny gasp, as if regaining consciousness. The purple phosphorescence of the Gravisheath weakened faintly.

  “Yes, the Cats were a little late in this instance, but they made it to the scene in time. They just couldn’t come out into the open because that brat from Seidoukan got himself involved. They can’t be seen. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Sure. But the fact is: He’s the one who saved her.”

  “All right, then, what do you want me to do?” Dirk said carelessly, leaning back in his chair until it creaked.

  “Now it’s hard for me to fight him,” Irene spat. “I’m gonna set things straight on my end. And I don’t wanna hear any whining from you.”

  “Do whatever you want.” Irritated, Dirk shooed her away like a stray dog.

  “Hmph. Sorry to bother ya,” Irene said curtly, and left the room.

  As soon as she had, the atmosphere relaxed, and Korona let out a long sigh. “That was scary.”

  Her relief was short-lived. Dirk’s harsh voice came like a barb in her ear. “Hey, Korona. What time is it?”

  Korona stood up in a rush and quickly checked the clock. “Uh, um—It’s just past six PM, sir!”

  “I guess that works. Read my fortune.”

  “Huh? R-right now?” Korona looked at Dirk with surprise. “Shouldn’t we clean up first…?”

  Thanks to Irene, the office was a mess. The desk was broken in two, the rug was in tatters, and the sofa was flipped over. The scene was far from reassuring.

  Dirk didn’t appear to care. “Don’t make me repeat myself,” he snapped.

  “Y-yes, sir! Sorry, sir! I’ll prepare it right away!” Korona took out a deck of Tarot cards from the inside pocket of her uniform and spread them on the floor.

  “And what would you like me to augur?” she asked timidly.

  Dirk loomed over her with crossed arms and answered bluntly, “Same as always. Whatever you see.”

  “Okay…” Perplexed, Korona began to shuffle the cards.

  Fortune-telling was one of her many hobbies. She had no formal training, and her style was mostly self-taught. Despite her enthusiasm for it, her fortunes rarely came true—well, almost never. Still, around this time every day, Dirk ordered her to read the cards.

  That was fine with Korona, but the problem was that Dirk never told her what he wanted her to look for. Normally, one made readings based on some kind of request, so the lack of direction always gave Korona trouble.

  “Oh—It seems like a waste to let this chance go by, so how about I predict how the Urzaiz sisters will fare in the Phoenix!” Korona clapped her hands at her own brilliant idea.

  After fretting for a while, she would usually decide on trivial things like the night’s dinner menu or the next day’s weather. But today, there happened to be a perfect subject.

  “Okay. I’ll begin…” Korona closed her eyes and began to rearrange the cards, feeling for them by touch.

  As she did so, a blue-white magic circle formed around her, drawing in an enormous amount of mana.

  Korona herself was unaware of this, selecting and flipping five cards with her eyes shut.

  “Done!” As soon as she finished turning the cards over, the magic circle disappeared.

  “Let’s see. The Fool upright, and the Sun inverted, and…” She read the flipped cards one by one, then brightly looked up to Dirk. “This is great, Mr. President! The cards say that Miss Urzaiz and her sister will win it all!”

  “Hmph. I bet,” Dirk muttered, as if that outcome was obvious, then motioned with his hand. “Korona, get me one of the vice presidents. It doesn’t matter who. You can go home for the day after that.”

  “Uh, sure. Got it.” Korona quickly put away her Tarot cards and left the president’s office with a bow.

  Dirk ran Le Wolfe’s student council more like a dictatorship. It consisted of three vice presidents and several clerks. They helped him with his work in ways that more resembled secretarial jobs than Korona’s role did. She really just handled errands and odd jobs.

  “The president sure does like fortune-telling,” Korona murmured as she headed to the council room crammed with student officials.

  Meanwhile, Dirk sat alone in the president’s office, arms crossed and deep in thought.

  Korona’s fortune was clear. The result would be inevitable. He had to do something.

  “Guess I have to be ready,” he muttered, and took out a black mobile device from the wrecked executive desk.

  The device belonged to Dirk, yet it did not. The only one allowed to use it was the president of the Le Wolfe Black Institute student council.

  Dirk tapped something into it. No air-windows opened; this communication would be by voice only.

  “Get me Number Seven of the Gold Eyes,” he said tersely.

  After a moment’s pause, a quiet gloomy voice answered.

  “…She asked you to dinner? Don’t tell me you accepted?”

  “Well, yes.”

  Julis stared at Ayato in utter disbelief, then collapsed on the floor of the training room, head in her hands. “You’re unbelievable…”

  Unable to form the words to finish her sentence, she was left literally speechless.

  Ayato might have anticipated this response. He didn’t try to make any excuses.

  Julis remained curled up for a little while, then finally stood and shook her head. “No, it’s all right. If I’m going to be around you, I have to get used to things like this. Fine. I got myself into it.” She smiled tightly. “Now, explain to me again exactly what happened. One thing at a time.”

  “Um, well, so yesterday I saw Priscilla getting attacked. Then, when I helped her out, Irene wanted to attack me. Then, we cleared up the misunderstanding, and Priscilla insisted she wanted to repay me somehow…” Ayato counted each step on his fingers.

  “And you knew at that point,” Julis asked, “that those two were our opponents for the next match?”

  “Yeah. Irene told me.”

  “And you still accepted their invitation?”

  “Um, I wasn’t sure if I should, either, but I couldn’t just turn them down.” Ayato scratched his cheek. “I mean, we might be enemies in the Festa, but not outside of that…”

  “You’re too soft!” Julis shouted, pinning him with an angry scowl. “I don’t need to remind you of Silas Norman. This city is a pit of nasty cutthroat competition. There are countless students who would frame or deceive others for their own ends. What if it’s a trap?”

  “I-I’m sure it’s fine. They don’t seem like bad people… Well, Irene might be a little scary, I guess.”

  “That’s why I’m telling you you’re too soft. The world would be a simple place if every schemer looked like a bad person. Don’t trust people so easily.”

  What she was saying sounded reasonable enough to Ayato. But still… “Then what about you, Julis?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “We’re teaming up for the Phoenix, but if we fought in the Lindvolus, we’d be enemies. Would I have to be suspicious of you, too?”

  Ayato had no intention of participating in the Lindvolus. His only reason for fighting now was to help Julis, so his question was purely hypothetical.

  She flinched at the curveball question. “Er… Well…”

  To bring that up was a little unfair, but effective.

  Julis faltered, looking conflicted, and finally gave a long, resigned sigh. “Fine. Do as you like… But on one condition!”

  “Condition?”

  Julis jabbed a finger at him and declared, “I’m joining you at the table.”

  The next evening, they headed to the address Priscilla had given Ayato—an apartment in the residential district.

  The building was not quite a luxury apartment complex, but it was clean, stylish, and neat.

  “I was wondering which restaurant they invited you to,” Julis said. “Why their apartme
nt?”

  “I have no idea.” Ayato was just as surprised as his partner. He couldn’t say what this was about.

  “Maybe it really is a trap…”

  Julis trailed behind, distrustful, as Ayato headed to the indicated apartment.

  The door opened, and an apron-clad Priscilla greeted them with a broad smile.

  “Welcome! Oh, you must be Miss Riessfeld. I’m so sorry I couldn’t introduce myself the other day.”

  “Oh, um, no—Me too…”

  “Please come in! Dinner will be ready soon.”

  While Priscilla’s hospitality disarmed Julis, the pair entered to find a dining table in a tidy living room. Irene sat morosely at the table. Naturally, she was not wearing her uniform. She was dressed down in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.

  “Hey.” Irene offered them a glance and a curt greeting, then quickly looked away. She’d been against inviting Ayato to begin with, so her attitude was understandable.

  Her behavior was in extreme contrast to Priscilla’s, but that in itself seemed to set Julis at ease.

  Her usual confidence returning to her face, Julis sat across the table from Irene.

  “Some welcome, Lamilexia. That’s how you greet us after inviting us over?”

  “I don’t remember inviting you, Witch of the Resplendent Flames.”

  “Well, this exceptionally good-natured boy is my partner. I can’t have him getting in trouble. So here I am.”

  Irene smirked. “Ooh, such a worrywart. What, are you Amagiri’s mom?”

  “Excuse me? His mother?!”

  Julis and Irene went on bickering, but oddly enough, there was little animosity between the two. They both seemed to have a grasp of the boundaries.

  Maybe they are actually getting along in their own way, Ayato thought, taking a seat next to Julis.

  Just then, Priscilla brought their dinner. “Sorry to keep you waiting!”

  She laid out numerous dishes piled onto small plates. Ayato thought they must be appetizers.

  “A chickpea and tomato salad, potatoes with aioli, shrimp sautéed with garlic and hot peppers, and ajillo mushrooms.”