Demon Sword Master of the Holy Sword Academy - Volume 8 - Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

THE HOLY SWORD DANCE FESTIVAL

It was 10:30 Imperial Standard Time—the day of the Holy Sword Dance Festival.

The members of the eighteenth platoon boarded a large, self-driving vehicle that transported them to the stage of the festival in the Eighth Assault Garden.

Since the Eighth Assault Garden was still under construction, its surface area was only a third of the Seventh Assault Garden’s. It had two cutting-edge mana furnaces as its energy source, and upon completion, it was set to boast the highest mobility of all its kind.

“Construction is currently at seventy-eight percent, but since they’ll need to divert resources to repairing the Seventh Assault Garden, it’ll take two more years for it to be completed,” Elfiné said from the seat opposite Riselia’s.

“It already looks pretty much done, though,” Regina noted as she looked out the window.

The vehicle was driving through Area III, passing by many large buildings. They were all deserted, and it reminded Riselia of the Third Assault Garden.

Despite this being an unpopulated city, destroying any structures outside the designated combat area would mean a loss of points. This rule put Regina at a disadvantage, since her Holy Sword’s Drag Blast attack was a wide-area bombardment, but the regulations were based on real urban combat, so there was nothing to be done.

“Where are we headed?” Riselia asked.

“It’s pretty far from the Central Garden,” Elfiné replied, tapping her terminal.

Each unit participating in the Holy Sword Dance Festival had a designated starting spot. These positions were kept secret from the participants. Each site in a team’s area had core flags in place, and by stealing them, a rival unit would score points, and the defending one would lose points.

A team member was disqualified when knocked unconscious or if their Holy Sword was destroyed. Baiting enemies out using the core flags would be a helpful strategy.

The game area appeared to be vast and included underground passages. However, as time passed, float blocks would be detached from the game area, and partitions would descend to seal off underground passages. The constantly shrinking game area would force a conflict even if a team tried to run around with a core flag and remain elusive.

The vehicle drove past the urban area and got on a highway. Riselia looked up at the blue sky.

Leo…

He hadn’t made it back in time. The one seated next to her right now was his body double.

“You want a sweet, kid?” Sakuya asked.

“Yes, please.”

Sakuya pulled a castella from her sleeve, which the body double gladly accepted.

Is the faker worried about Leo, too? Riselia wondered. “Miss Finé, has the broadcast started already?” she asked.

“Yes, there are drones scattered around the city.”

The machines were controlled by Artificial Elementals, which used the Astral Garden to transmit what each team was doing to large screens in each Assault Garden.

The vehicle continued out of the urban area and entered an underground tunnel. Finally it came to a stop before a gigantic supply silo, and a voice played from inside the vehicle.

“Arrived at Point E. Members of the eighteenth platoon are to stay put until they receive the signal marking the opening of the Holy Sword Dance Festival.”

“Hmm… The seats for invited guests should be around here…” Arle turned her head this way and that. She had the ticket Sakuya gave her clutched in one hand.

She was in a spectator stadium set up on Excalibur Academy’s premises. The arena was open to all citizens. The large screens used for student matches would instead show the festival activities. There weren’t usually many spectators here, but the Holy Sword Dance Festival had brought people out in droves.

This place is even more crowded than the Rognas Kingdom’s marketplace. It’s making me dizzy.

Arle was bad with crowds and longed for the sacred tranquility of the Spirit Forest. Honestly, she wanted to leave but refused to let Sakuya’s ticket go to waste.

Besides, I would like to see how the strongest warriors of this era fight…

It took a while, but Arle finally found a seat. Yet just as she went to sit, she spotted a familiar child a few rows ahead.

Is that Tessera? What is she doing here…?

The young girl was from an orphanage Arle had eaten at once. She was walking along a passage in front of the many rows of chairs, unsure where to go.

“You there, girl.”

Tessera turned around, surprised. “Miss Arle…?” Her eyes widened upon seeing a familiar face. Arle motioned for Tessera to approach, and she did. “Hello,” she greeted her with a polite bow of her head. “Did you come to watch the festival, too, Miss Arle?”

“…I suppose. I am curious about this,” Arle replied, using a finger to play with her ponytail. “Is that why you’re here?”

“Yes. Big Sis Riselia gave me a ticket, but I can’t find my seat…” Tessera retrieved her ticket from a pocket, showing it to Arle.

“Let me have a look. I can help with your search.” Arle inspected the printed number. “Hmm… Isn’t this…? Yes, it’s the chair next to mine.”

“I-it is?”

Sakuya was in the same unit as that Riselia girl, so it followed they’d received tickets for adjacent spots. Arle and Tessera bought popcorn and drinks from a passing trolley and settled in.

“Did you come here alone? No one’s watching you?”

“No, I’m here by myself. I come to watch the matches here all the time.”

“I see…”

A thousand years ago, even in relatively peaceful countries like the Rognas Kingdom, abductors wandered the outskirts of the cities. A girl walking about unsupervised was unthinkable. However, things were different in the Seventh Assault Garden, and this was Excalibur Academy, likely the safest place in the city.

Although technically, I am in a criminal organization.

Remembering that made Arle gloomy. She’d joined to learn the Dark Lord Zol Vadis’s identity, but she’d since become the Demon Wolf Pack’s designated bodyguard.

The screen displayed each school’s representatives.

How does this work, exactly? Do they use spirits or familiars to project this image through some kind of Farsight sorcery?

It boggled Arle’s mind to consider how developed present-day magical apparatuses were.

Why were the ancient ways of sorcery discarded, and how did all of this technology advance?

While she thought on it…

“H-hey, what’s that?”

“I—I don’t know. How did it get in here…?”

…Arle heard a minor commotion from the seats behind her. Upon turning around, she saw…

“What? A-a dog?!” Arle nearly dropped her popcorn.

…a large hound with pitch-black fur walking among the stands. It carried itself with the gait of a king, as though expecting all others to vacate its path.

Arle frowned suspiciously. Why is there a dog here?

“Ah, Fluffymaru!” Tessera got up and waved to the beast.

“…Fluffy?” Arle repeated, confused.

The dog noticed Tessera and approached. It obediently took a spot next to the girl.

“Did you come to watch like we did, Fluffymaru?” she asked.

“Woof…,” the great hound barked.

“You know this dog?” Arle questioned.

Tessera nodded while rubbing under Fluffymaru’s chin. “Yes. He comes to the orphanage sometimes to play.”

“I…see…” Arle gazed at Fluffymaru.

She liked animals, as all elves did, yet an instinct told her to remain on guard around this black dog. He reminded her too much of another… The Black Wolf Emperor, who was the Undead King’s trusted companion. Blackas Shadow Prince struck terror in the kingdom’s army with his jaws of death.

Of course, this couldn’t possibly be him… But that dark fur, creeping night given form, and those golden eyes… Arle couldn’t help but think of that fearsome demon.

“D-does he bite?” Arle asked cautiously.

“Don’t be afraid. Fluffymaru is a good boy,” Tessera replied, still scratching the animal’s chin. It closed its eyes in satisfaction.

R-right. Blindly fearing this hound wouldn’t do.

Arle calmed herself and returned her attention to the large screen. No sooner had she done so than a familiar face appeared.

“Ah, it’s Big Sis Riselia!” Tessera leaned forward and pointed.

The screen showed portrait shots of each member of the eighteenth platoon, the characteristics of their respective Holy Swords, and graphs detailing statistics calculated from practice matches.

“Now then,” a commentator’s voice boomed. “This is a group that’s drawn a lot of attention. It’s Excalibur Academy’s special entry squad. Riselia Crystalia, the leader of the eighteenth platoon and my eternal rival, is on the screen right now. Why, I recall our first meeting. It was some ten years ago, when I was pursuing a giant lizard that escaped one of Duke Crystalia’s parties—”

“Er, Miss Fenris, please keep your commentary impartial.”

“What are you saying, President?! I haven’t even begun my stor—mmmg!”

“My apologies for this shameful broadcast, good listeners.”

After a bit of static, the commentary ended.

The stadium’s spectators were all riled up by the introduction of Excalibur Academy’s representatives.

“Look, look! That boy is so cute.   How old is he?”

“He’s only ten. If we just let him sit for a few more years…he might be ripe for the picking.”

“Cute boys like that grow up to be Dark Lords in the bedroom.”

Arle overheard some nearby girls wearing Excalibur Academy uniforms discussing a boy who’d come on-screen. It seemed he was rather popular among…

“Leo…”

Arle glanced at Tessera, who gazed at the screen with rosy cheeks.

Oh my. She’s a precocious one, isn’t she? Arle chuckled.

A girl in love. Arle envied Tessera a little. Having been raised as a hero since infancy, she had never been allowed to experience romance. Arle’s thoughts drifted to her past, one thousand years ago. The visage of her fellow apprentice, who’d studied under the same master as her, came to mind. She’d always admired him for working so hard to save the world.

Perhaps…he was my first love.

Yet the hero she’d once admired had gone on to become a Dark Lord who threatened humanity.

Wh-what am I thinking?! I can’t believe myself…

The elf girl shook her head vigorously and focused her attention on the screen.

The Imperial Standard Time was 10:40.

Sitting beneath the glow of the underground silo’s mana lamps, Riselia and her platoon awaited the signal for the match to start. Riselia and Elfiné were huddled around their terminals, discussing strategy. Regina was leaning on a wall doing stretches, while Sakuya munched on a famous Sakura Orchid food called a sushi roll. Shary, disguised as Leonis, snuck longing glances at Sakuya’s snack.

“Starting underground is kind of an advantage. The other teams are gonna have a harder time finding us,” Regina said.

Riselia shook her head calmly. “Not necessarily. If we had a locational advantage, you’d be right, but an Assault Garden’s underground passages are long and winding. Fighting down here will demand different tactics than if we were aboveground.”

They’d have to analyze countless underground routes to guess at what opposing squads might do. Compared to the surface, where large fights would break out almost as soon as the match began, this station would require the eighteenth platoon to deploy members more cautiously.

“Also, anywhere below the fourth underground level is considered off-limits,” Elfiné cautioned while showing everyone the map on her terminal. “The linear rail tracks are down there, and they don’t want us to damage them.”

The Holy Sword Dance Festival allowed participants to bring their terminals, but their communication features were limited outside specific areas. This was meant to mimic the kind of EMP (Excessive Mana Pulse) jamming they might encounter in real combat against the Voids.

Regina tapped her chin with a finger. “I wonder which other groups are nearby.”

“I think we can rule out the other Excalibur Academy representatives,” Riselia replied. “And Princess Chatres’s unit is likely on the surface, so we won’t run into them soon.”

Highly rated units were set on the surface so they would clash early on and get the audience excited. From the higher-ups’ perspective, it was foolish to put the winning team—Chatres’s in particular—underground. The princess was too popular and charismatic.

“I mentioned it during this morning’s meeting, but,” Elfiné said in a hushed-up voice, wary of the surveillance drones, “we should probably be careful of the Fourth Assault Garden’s Academia unit.”

The Academia was an institute primarily for Holy Sword researchers, and its teams rarely scored highly at the Holy Sword Dance Festival. Its top-ranked students were very capable, but they didn’t draw the same attention as the large-scale Excalibur Academy or the elite students of Halcyon Academy.

However, Count Deinfraude Phillet governed the Fourth Assault Garden, and Finzel Phillet was an Academia alumnus.

“It’s possible research for the Demon Sword Project was conducted at the Academia. I doubt they’ll try to do something during an event as major as the Holy Sword Dance Festival, but we should keep that in mind.”

There was a minute left until the match began. Riselia got to her feet, her expression serious. Shary, naturally still disguised as Leonis, took her sleeve.

“Miss Selia.”

“…What’s wrong, Leo? Do you want a sweet?”

“No,” Shary replied, exasperated. “I’ve already told you this, but remember that I will only be able to offer minimal support.”

Riselia nodded. “That’s fine. I’ll show you how much stronger I am from all that training.”

“I see.” Shary averted her gaze. “If nothing else, I will admit you have guts. You worked very hard.”

“Th-thanks.” Riselia smiled sheepishly.

At 11:00 Imperial Standard Time, the horn signaling the start of the Holy Sword Dance Festival echoed over the Eighth Assault Garden.

“““Holy Sword—Activate!”””

The members of the eighteenth platoon all spoke the words as one, manifesting their Holy Swords. Regina’s Drag Striker, Sakuya’s Raikirimaru, Elfiné’s Eye of the Witch, and Riselia’s Bloody Sword. “Leonis” likewise conjured the replica of the Staff of Sealed Sins, which was registered as his Holy Sword.

What made this event different from the usual interschool bouts was the ability to disqualify an opponent by destroying their Holy Sword. Once a Holy Sword was broken, it was forbidden for its wielder to call it back. Additionally, all competitors had to have their Holy Swords manifested constantly.

Riselia glanced at Regina, Elfiné, and Leonis as she spoke. “As previously discussed, we’ll head out to claim core flags.” Once the three of them nodded, Riselia’s eyes went to Sakuya. “We’re counting on you.”

“Yes, understood. I’ll do my best to keep moving.” Sakuya brandished Raikirimaru lightly.

Sakuya’s role was to go up to the surface alone and scout enemy teams. If possible, she would use hit-and-run tactics to keep opponents distracted. Essentially, she was a hyper-offensive decoy. Having the strongest member of the eighteenth platoon operating solo would hopefully disrupt the opposing squads. This kind of tactic was only possible thanks to Sakuya’s overwhelming skills and Raikirimaru’s powers over acceleration.

“Don’t blame me if I sweep the whole match, though,” Sakuya boasted.

“Be careful not to get too involved in any fights. Your main role is to scout and cause disarray,” Riselia reminded her with a strained smile. “All right. Let’s go!” Riselia raised her voice dignifiedly, the Bloody Sword in her hand.

At the same time…

Elysion Academy’s first platoon members, led by Chatres Ray O’ltriese, activated their Holy Swords. They stood at the heart of the Central Garden.

“As expected, everyone’s eyes are on the princess,” a young man shouldering a hunting gun–type Holy Sword remarked flippantly. “I’m sure they’re getting lots of flattering pictures of you, Silver-Blooded Sword Princess.”

Three drones buzzed around the area.

“We don’t have time for chatter, Colt.” Chatres glared at the young man coldly, and he went silent immediately.

As frivolous as Colt appeared, he was a first-rate sniper. Unsurprisingly, each member of Chatres’s squad was a skilled elite, fully devoted and obedient to the princess. They were disciplined and moved with precision according to her orders.

That Chatres could skillfully unite and command a group of idiosyncratic talents was due to more than her royal status. It was because all her teammates recognized her overwhelming prowess. The members of Chatres’s platoon were her faithful pawns on the battlefield.

A commander couldn’t have asked for better fighters. However, that meant the blame for a loss all fell upon Chatres. She had long since accepted that intense pressure, though.

The three royal houses were meant to serve as a banner for humanity to unite under in the war against the Voids. If Chatres couldn’t handle this challenge, then she had no place among royalty.

“Ah, I’ve detected something. Some bugs hiding in a large building in Area IV,” a girl reported in a carefree tone. She was holding a terminal and used a scanner-type Holy Sword.

“Which unit are they from?”

“The St. Eluminas Monastery’s fourth choir. Their Holy Swords’ abilities are—”

“It’s fine, I know all their abilities,” Chatres cut in, shaking her head.

“Running into us right away is pretty bad luck for them,” a tall man with a stern expression remarked. He was from a family line that served House O’ltriese. “Should I use my Holy Sword to level the enemy base, Your Highness?”

“No, I’ll do it. The audience needs a demonstration.”

To Chatres, winning the Holy Sword Dance Festival was a matter of duty. And victory alone wasn’t enough. She needed to show off her incredible power and crush all opponents directly. Doing so would boost the royal family’s authority and better secure its status as the guardian and hope of the entire human race.

Chatres drew her Holy Sword in a fluid motion, letting the silver broadsword reflect the sunlight. “Holy Sword—Ragna Nova.” She held the weapon up and then swung it down at once. A flash of light ran across the sky for a moment.

Booooooooom!

Far in the distance, a building was severed in half, its top section collapsing and crashing to the ground.

“Princess, they might scold us if you go too hard,” Colt whispered, looking exasperated.

“I made sure it wasn’t a direct blow. No one participating would be foolish enough to get caught and die in an attack like that.” Chatres lowered her shining sword.

“No, er, I mean we’ll lose points for destroying buildings…”

“It doesn’t matter. A single core flag will negate that.”

The princess had destroyed the building to demonstrate her might to the audience. The Holy Sword Dance Festival’s organizers wanted Chatres to put on a spectacle.

“Now, the hunt is on. And our target”—Chatres looked up at the clear sky—“is the leader of Excalibur Academy’s eighteenth platoon, Riselia Crystalia.”