Gakusen Toshi Asterisk - Volume 15 - Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5 
THE INHERITOR OF THE RUNESWORD 
“Saya really went overboard this time…,” Ayato murmured as he watched the end of her match. 
His companions, it seemed, had been left completely speechless. To be fair, even he, who had known her the longest, was nothing short of astounded. Claudia was lost for words as well. 
And the other two—Elliot and Noelle—seemed to be in mute shock. 
“…That truly was excessive,” Elliot eventually whispered under his breath. 
Ayato had to agree with that assessment. 
Nonetheless, at the same time, that incredibly overpowered Lux was so in character for Saya. 
“Ah… Well, congratulations are in order, Claudia. Three of the best four this time around hail from Seidoukan. I suppose it’s fair to say that this has been your season. I’m quite jealous,” Elliot said with a slight shake of his head, turning toward Claudia with a bitter smile. 
From his attitude, he wasn’t saying that with empty words—he truly was congratulating them. As student council president of a rival school, that mustn’t have been easy for him, Ayato thought. 
“Not at all, it’s the contestants themselves who deserve your praise,” Claudia began with a seemingly practiced response. “I just wonder…,” she continued, her voice trailing off as she glanced back toward Saya, who was dragging her leg as she left the stage. “With those injuries, will she be fit to fight in the next round?” 
Indeed, Saya might have won, but she had sustained significant injuries, particularly on her arms. 
And not only that, her next opponent would be Orphelia. Even if she were in perfect condition, it would still be an arduous struggle at best. 
“I should go check on her,” Ayato said, rising to his feet. 
“Ah, please wait a moment, Amagiri,” Elliot called after him. “It’s you we came here to talk about.” 
“Me…?” 
Given that Elliot had obviously come to discuss something confidential, Ayato had assumed he wanted to speak with Claudia. 
“Or strictly speaking, your sister.” 
“—!” 
At this, Ayato immediately retook his seat. 
Claudia’s expression tightened ever so slightly, too. 
“I don’t know the details, nor do I want to. But I believe that only I, using the Runesword, can help her—or at least, there is a possibility that I can. That’s what I came here to say.” 
“The Lei-Glems… Right!” 
Ayato exchanged glances with Claudia. 
The Lei-Glems was a unique Orga Lux with the ability to cut through only that which its user intended to destroy, passing harmlessly through all else. With that power, there was indeed a possibility that it could destroy the fragment of the Raksha-Nada embedded in Haruka’s body. 
“In other words… You would help Ayato’s sister?” 
“So far as I am able.” 
“That’s a generous offer…” Claudia paused there, staring at Elliot as if trying to gauge his intentions. “But how does that benefit you?” 
Elliot was the student council president of Saint Gallardworth Academy. Naturally, his own school would be his highest priority. Helping Haruka might not be directly against his interests, but it wouldn’t exactly help them in any way, either. It might have been different if, like his fellow student council president Sylvia, his own personal goals aligned with theirs, but if that wasn’t the case, he had no real reason to help them. 
“Is it not natural that a knight wielding the Runesword should help a lady in distress…? But no, I suspect that won’t convince you.” Elliot shrugged, shining them an amused smile. “To tell you the truth, the material benefits will come entirely from our benefactor. So you needn’t worry about that.” 
“…And can you tell us who this benefactor is?” 
“If I could, I would have done so from the beginning.” 
This time it was Claudia’s turn to shrug her shoulders. She had no doubt known that would be his response. 
Only a very small number of people knew about Haruka’s situation. Apart from the Golden Bough Alliance, there was Ayato, Claudia, Saya, Kirin, Sylvia, Commander Lindwall, and Haruka herself in Stjarnagarm, as well as Claudia’s mother and Galaxy’s highest executive, Isabella. The only other person with any knowledge would have to be the director of the hospital, Jan Korbel. There was no need for Elliot to keep any of those names secret. 
In that case, that only left— 
“Very well, let’s put that aside for now. But I do have one question. Elliot, you said that you don’t know the details, but you do understand the situation of the person you want to save, no?” 
“There’s a fragment of the Raksha-Nada inside her body,” Elliot answered cautiously. “Although I don’t know how exactly that happened.” 
He had said as much himself just a moment ago, but it seemed he didn’t want to delve too deeply into it. 
“You understand what that means, then?” Claudia asked. “So long as the Raksha-Nada remains inactivated, that shard simply doesn’t exist. Can the Lei-Glems destroy a target that isn’t there?” 
“That’s…” Elliot hesitated. “Indeed, I can’t guarantee anything. I haven’t mastered the Runesword as well as Ernest did. Nonetheless… Our benefactor was under the impression that, in theory, it wouldn’t be impossible.” 
“In theory?” 
“The Lei-Glems only makes physical contact with its user’s intended target. And the act of targeting something redefines it in a sense. That should apply just as equally to that shard from the Raksha-Nada. It’s not that it doesn’t exist, but that it occupies an ambiguous status somewhere between existence and nonexistence. And so by targeting it with the Lei-Glems, I might be able to do something about it… Or so I’m told, in any event.” 
“Targeting it with the Lei-Glems. I see… It’s an interesting idea.” 
Judging from her reaction, Claudia seemed to think the proposal had merit, but Ayato had no idea how it was all supposed to work. 
Perhaps having noticed his confusion, Claudia turned toward him. “Hmm, let’s say that we used the Lei-Glems to cut a steak,” she began. 
“…I would never use the Runesword in that way,” Elliot interrupted in disgust at the analogy. 
Claudia, however, went on. “We could use the Lei-Glems to cut away only those parts of it that were overcooked or burned. But how do we judge what is overcooked? That’s where its user’s sense of recognition comes in. What the Lei-Glems does is determines what is overcooked based on its user’s definition. That’s the process that Elliot here described as redefinition. And as a result of that process, it can cut through only what its user intends to target.” 
“So… What you’re saying is that if Elliot can picture the fragment, then the Lei-Glems could target it even if it doesn’t physically exist?” 
“Theoretically, it makes sense. Of course, normally it would be impossible to recognize something like that, but if the Lei-Glems’ user knows that it should be there, then it might just work…” 
In other words, there was a chance, however small. 
If so, it was worth trying. After all, neither Ayato nor the others had found any other way of removing it. 
He exchanged glances with Claudia to measure her thoughts before turning to Elliot and bowing his head in thanks. “I don’t know exactly how you found out about this… But thank you. Please try.” 
“…I’ll do what I can.” 
Right after Ayato contacted her, Haruka made her way to the special viewing lounge. 
As Elliot had been reluctant to explain anything in detail over the phone, they once again went over the proposal. After all, no one knew better than him just how effective Sinodomius was at gathering information. He couldn’t afford to be careless. 
“…I see. If that’s true, then there is a chance it might work. But I think it will still be difficult.” Haruka didn’t need long to agree with the idea. “I’m in your hands, Elliot,” she said, meeting his gaze. 
“N-not at all,” stammered Elliot from his position next to Ayato. 
To tell the truth, he hadn’t expected her to give her consent so quickly. Her swift agreement had left him feeling unexpectedly nervous. 
So this is Amagiri’s sister… 
According to Sinodomius’s reports, she had been asleep in the hospital for an extended period of time. Apparently, she used to be affiliated with Seidoukan, but there were no official records of her ever having participated in any matches. And while Sinodomius hadn’t been able to confirm the veracity of the reports, it was thought that she had participated in the Eclipse with the Ser Veresta. That wasn’t hard to believe, judging by the trouble she had found herself in. She was clearly over her head, caught up in something big. 
Nonetheless, Elliot was more interested in her reputation as a swordswoman. After all, she was Ayato Amagiri’s elder sister and an assistant instructor of the Amagiri Shinmei style. On top of that, she had been enlisted into Stjarnagarm, which was known to be incredibly selective of its members, so Helga Lindwall herself had clearly attested to her skills. 
Above all, if he were to help her in this way, he would no doubt have an opportunity to see her abilities for himself one day. Her attitude was casual, her movements carefree, but it was crystal clear to him that she was ready to respond to anything. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that he couldn’t sense any weakness or vulnerabilities in her. 
I wouldn’t stand a chance against her as I am now… 
With the Lei-Glems, he would have the ultimate advantage if he were to face her in a contest, and he prided himself on his swordsmanship, of course. But he knew that when it came down to it, his skills simply wouldn’t measure up to hers. 
“In that case… Let’s give it a try,” Elliot said, unfastening the holder at his waist and activating the Lei-Glems. 
The Orga Lux’s opaque pure white blade was slightly shorter than when Ernest had wielded it, adjusted to the optimal size for its present user. 
“Where exactly is it embedded?” 
“Hmm… I can’t pinpoint it exactly but around here,” Haruka answered, lightly touching the right-hand side of her body. 
It was a rather large area that she indicated, but no doubt it was difficult for her to accurately identify its precise location. 
“It’s about as large as someone’s little finger, yes?” 
“Mm-hmm,” Ayato answered. “Any smaller and it wouldn’t be able to be controlled. So if you can break it up—” 
“—it will disappear,” Elliot finished for him. 
It was easy enough to say, but actually pulling it off was another thing entirely. It was a tiny fragment, no larger than his little finger, embedded in an unclear location, which wasn’t physically present. Destroying it was no simple matter. 
Nonetheless, if he was to get Julis to provide him with information on Percival, he had no choice but to find a way to pull it off. That was the only way to resolve Percival’s situation as quietly as possible, which in turn would benefit both her and Saint Gallardworth Academy. 
He took a deep breath, concentrating his awareness on the Lei-Glems, when it let out a silent flash. The pure white blade passed straight through Haruka’s torso. 
“…” 
There was no response. 
The blade hadn’t made contact with the fragment. He didn’t know exactly why, but it was possible it had failed to target the fragment due to its user not properly recognizing the shard. All he knew was that it hadn’t worked. 
He tried a second, then a third time. 
“Guh…!” 
No matter how many times he moved the Lei-Glems, the result was always the same. 
“It looks like this might be difficult,” Claudia finally said, her expression troubled. 
“Elliot…” Noelle, clearly worried, grabbed on to the edges of his sleeve. 
Elliot gritted his teeth, turning his gaze downward. The Lei-Glems felt somehow heavier than usual. 
“Don’t worry about it, Elliot. I’m very familiar with just how difficult Orga Luxes can be to handle,” Haruka said with a reassuring smile. Judging by her expression, it looked as if she was the one worried for him now. 
“H-hold on! Let me try again…!” As Gallardworth’s student council president, he couldn’t afford to give up so easily. 
Given that she had been ordered to attack Julis, Percival was undoubtedly caught up with a very dangerous organization. If something were to happen and her identity was revealed, it would have disastrous consequences for Gallardworth’s public image, and Elliot himself would be held accountable as its student council president. 
But to be honest, none of that really mattered to him. If worst came to worst, he would feel bad for those who had supported him during his tenure, but as far as he himself was concerned, there would really be no helping it. 
The real problem would be if Elliott-Pound and their tool Sinodomius were to attempt to cover it all up and eliminate Percival. They were perhaps even working toward that end already. 
In that case, his best course of action would be to save Percival before Sinodomius could get to her. 
“Hmm…” Elliot closed his eyes, refocusing his attention. 
“Ha…!” He brandished the Lei-Glems with all his strength. 
“…” 
Everyone in the room was watching him—but Haruka merely shook her head regretfully. 
“Why isn’t it working…?” 
Was he doing something wrong? 
Had he simply not found the shard, or was his compatibility with the Lei-Glems too low to fully draw on its power? 
I guess it’s true, then. I really am useless… 
If Ernest were here, perhaps he would be able to— 
It was a baseless assumption, but he had to fight himself to quell his thoughts. 
And then— 
“Your sword…,” murmured Ayato all of a sudden, before holding his tongue. 
“Huh?” Elliot turned toward him. 
Ayato, however, merely averted his gaze. “No, it’s just…” 
“What about my sword?” 
Ayato, it seemed, was reluctant to voice his thoughts, but with Elliot staring back at him so forcefully, he eventually relented. “It’s just, and I know I’m probably speaking out of turn here, but… You’re a lot more tense than you were last time we fought.” 
“What? That’s absurd…!” Elliot quickly denied the accusation, but soon found himself shaking his head weakly to correct himself. 
The two of them had last faced off in the semifinals of the Phoenix more than two years ago. His swordsmanship had improved immeasurably since then, becoming much more polished and sophisticated. There was no denying that. 
And yet— 
“…You may be right.” 
The sword was a mirror of one’s heart. And in that case, given his present situation, his use of it was no doubt vague and ill-defined. 
Having inherited the Lei-Glems and the role of student council president from Ernest when he became the academy’s number one, Elliot had always felt himself being crushed by the pressure and expectations placed upon him. And in order to continue to use the Lei-Glems, he had to ensure that his soul remained pure and dedicated to justice. Nonetheless, the responsibilities of the student council often didn’t allow for that. It was a very difficult set of weights to balance. He didn’t have Ernest’s dexterity. 
“Even so, if I’m going to be like Ernest—!” 
“That’s impossible,” Ayato interrupted firmly. “No one else could be him. Not me, not you.” 
Elliot knew that. 
He knew that, but he had to come closer to that ideal. 
“And Ernest couldn’t be you, either.” 
“…What?” Elliot stared across at Ayato, lost for words at this unexpected declaration. 
He had never considered that. But it was obvious. Ernest, who came out victorious no matter what he set his mind to, wouldn’t even want to be like him. 
Ayato, however, seeing Elliot’s confusion, continued: “Your control over the sword is flawless, natural, and uninhibited. It’s completely different from Ernest’s—in style and in spirit. You can’t compare them.” Ayato paused there, scratching his cheek apologetically. “And, well… This might not be a good time, but I’d like to take back what I said during the Phoenix.” 
“Take back what?” 
“During our match, I said that your sword was too light.” 
“Ah…” 
Of course Elliot remembered. That match, those words—they had been nothing short of total humiliation. He had spent more than a year afterward working to remedy that shame in the lead-up to the Gryps. 
Nonetheless, in the end, Elliot’s Team Tristan had been eliminated from the tournament before they could even face off against Ayato’s Team Enfield. 
“But in last year’s Gryps, you had clearly sharpened your swordsmanship. It was faster and even lighter. There’s no mistaking that some people grow stronger by shouldering more burdens, but there are plenty of people who increase their mastery through other means… So I’d like to take back what I said.” And with this, Ayato bowed his head deeply. 
“…I see.” Elliot found himself being moved by an indefinable mixture of emotions. 
But what Ayato had said was true: Elliot’s swordsmanship was lighter than that of other people, faster and more supple. He should have been focusing on improving that quality of his. But in his depression, he had never been able to do so. 
“Ha… You’re right.” 
He found himself laughing at his own stupidity for having fallen into this trap without even realizing it. 
He could never be as good as Ernest, not at the things that Ernest excelled at. He knew that, at some deep level, but he had kept trying to be what he couldn’t. 
He had to be who he was, to do the things that only he could do. 
And just by acknowledging that, he felt as if a great burden had finally been lifted from his shoulders. 
Then, in the back of his mind, he remembered what Julis had said to him the other day: 
“I want you to go to the rescue of a princess in need. That’s what knights do, isn’t it?” 
Exactly. 
Before he was student council president, Elliot was a knight of Saint Gallardworth Academy. 
Not even his position on the student council changed that. 
And so if he couldn’t save this woman in distress right in front of his eyes, what was he? 
At that moment, the Lei-Glems suddenly became lighter in his hands. 
“This is…” 
And that wasn’t all. 
From the way the Orga Lux was trembling, he knew it was responding to something. Elliot turned his awareness to that sensation. There were two things—one of them large and powerful, the other so small that it seemed as if it might disappear at any moment. 
The strong one was coming from the holder at Ayato’s waist…meaning it must have been the Ser Veresta. Elliot had last seen a similar reaction when watching the two Runeswords come into close contact during the Gryps. 
In that case, the other sensation would have to be— 
The moment he realized it, the Lei-Glems identified and redefined it. 
The Raksha-Nada…! 
He grasped onto that sensation with his mind and unleashed the Orga Lux’s power. 
“!” 
“Too fast…!” 
Ayato and the others caught their breath, the room filled with suspense. 
He couldn’t see it. Nonetheless, as the pure white blade entered Haruka’s abdomen, he felt it clearly divide the fragment of the Raksha-Nada clean in two. 
“…Phew.” 
Elliot let out a deep sigh, returning the Lei-Glems to its holder. “That should do it.” 
When Ayato glanced toward Haruka, she broke into a wide grin, nodding back to him. “Yep, I felt it—only for a brief instant, and then I guess it just shattered…” 
“I see… Thank goodness.” Ayato, holding his hand to his chest, let out a sigh of relief. 

“Then this is where we part ways. Let’s go, Noelle.” 
“R-right…!” Noelle answered joyfully as he began going toward the exit. 
“Thank you, Elliot.” Haruka said, and she and Ayato bowed their heads. 
“…That should be my line,” Elliot murmured under his breath with a forced smile. 
“Elliot?” Noelle, no doubt having heard him, looked up at him in confusion. 
“No, it’s nothing. We need to head back. We’ve got a lot of work to do.” 
There was a lightness to his step as he left the special viewing lounge—as if he had been reborn. 
  
Through the night sky, an airship gently sailed. 
In the cabin, the three members of the Golden Bough Alliance sat, their enigmatic faces each hiding a contemptuous smirk for the world outside. 
“Everything’s good on my end. We’ve finished deploying the Valiants, and all the underground preparations are complete. The problem is how to handle that… What are you doing about it, Varda? I hear you tried to set the Holy Spear loose.” Dirk Eberwein, sitting arrogantly on the sofa with his legs crossed, let out a derisive snort. 
Varda, standing by the door, shrugged her shoulders. “Percival Gardner’s driving motive is guilt. Fanning that guilt of hers allows us to raise her efficiency with the Amalthean Goat so that she will be able to handle the Holy Spear. But at the same time, it does cause her mental stability to deteriorate and increases the risk of her running amok.” 
“What’s the point of that? If we don’t get it, we won’t be able to control the Valiants. At the very least, you ought to be able to make a sensible decision.” 
“…Very well. But we don’t have much time, so I can offer no guarantees,” Varda answered softly. 
This time it was Madiath’s turn to speak up: “As far as I’m concerned, we should focus on the matter at hand. It will all be for nothing if the preparations aren’t perfect.” 
“Of course. They’re proceeding without error. Do you think I’ve been running from one country to another for the fun of it? Just give me a little time, and it will all fall into place by itself.” 
“Ha! By itself? Yeah, right,” Dirk snorted with scorn. 
Those who had been brainwashed by Varda had no awareness of what she had done to them. As far as they were concerned, they were acting according to their own free will, even if they technically weren’t. 
“That’s the kind of thinking that made the Jade Twilight a total failure,” Dirk growled. 
“I had only just awakened back then, and my sense of awareness was limited. This time is different.” Unusually for Varda, she broke into a clearly displeased frown. 
It looked like her past mistakes were a sensitive topic for the Orga Lux. 
“Yeah? I wonder. You handled the previous plan pretty similarly as far as I can tell. And how did that pan out?” 
“The plan was perfect. If not for Haruka Amagiri, we would already have reshaped this world into its ideal form.” Varda paused there, coolly shifting her gaze toward Madiath. 
“Come now, this is our last meeting… Let’s not squabble. Although perhaps internal conflict is in our nature?” Madiath broke into an amused smile as he rubbed his chin. “In any event, if the preparations are complete, then I must remind you not to put yourself in harm’s way. We won’t be able to carry out the plan if either you or Miss Orphelia is absent.” 
“If you’ve both done your part, there shouldn’t be any need for that. Unless…” 
“You’re the one who keeps causing problems!” Dirk glared across the table at her. 
He and Varda exchanged murderous sneers, but Madiath’s false smile never wavered. “Yes, well, he does have a point.” 
“It isn’t anything that can’t be addressed with a few minor adjustments to the plan.” 
“Hurry up and spit it out, then!” 
No matter how much he rebuked him, Dirk knew that Madiath Mesa simply didn’t care. His hatred for the man truly knew no bounds. And the longer he was forced to spend with him, the more they ended up speaking together, the deeper that hatred ran. 
“There are two problems. As for the first… Stjarnagarm is apparently moving to arrest me.” 
“Yeah?” Dirk retorted. “In the middle of the Festa? They’ve got some gall.” 
Stjarnagarm’s commander, Helga Lindwall, had apparently joined forces with Galaxy. Nonetheless, if they were to try to apprehend the Festa Executive Committee’s chairman while the tournament was still taking place, there was bound to be severe blowback from the other foundations. 
“Of course, they don’t want to spoil the tournament. I’m sure they plan to keep it all under wraps.” 
“And they’re arresting you based on what exactly?” 
“That’s the surprising part. It seems to be in relation to fraudulent accounting. Although they may dress it up as aggravated breach of trust or maybe graft.” 
“Huh?” Dirk found himself doubting his ears. “What the hell is that about?” 
“I used to be an outside director at an organization called PVA Industries. And indeed, I do recall instructing them to tweak their balance sheets to obtain a role in Japan’s rocket development project. Back then, PVA Industries was hardly enjoying such business success as to be entrusted with a national project. But we lacked manpower and needed to gain a foothold. And so… Well, this isn’t exactly uncommon in the corporate realm.” 
It was often said that the world, presently dominated by the IEFs, was considerably less ethical than in past centuries, especially when it came to financial crimes—so much so that incidents involving the IEFs seldom turned into full-blown scandals. 
“So it was more than ten years ago? The statute of limitations must have expired by now.” 
“I thought so, too… But then there’s the extraterritorial complications.” 
“…Ah, so they’ll act as if you were abroad, then?” 
Galaxy was headquartered in Japan and Madiath was officially an executive there, but that was really only an on-paper title. While he often traveled abroad to carry out his duties, the Executive Committee was formally based in Asterisk. In other words, the statute of limitations didn’t count the time when he had been outside of Japan. 
“They’re certainly attacking from an unexpected angle. I’m afraid they found my blind spot.” 
“Hmph, only because Galaxy’s helping them.” 
In principle, Stjarnagarm had no authority to investigate crimes that took place outside Asterisk, but exceptions could be made if they received an external request for assistance. With Galaxy’s connections, it wouldn’t have been hard to push the Japanese authorities to get Stjarnagarm involved. 
“So what are you going to do about it?” Varda, until now seemingly uninterested in their conversation, finally spoke up. 
“We can’t afford to let them take me. I’ll have to go underground a little ahead of schedule. I was already planning to disappear from the public arena, but I’ll just have to move that forward a day.” 
“Won’t that cause problems with the tournament?” 
“The vice-chairman is a distinguished fellow. I’m sure he’ll have no problem handling things.” 
The vice-chair of the Festa Executive Committee belonged to the faction opposing Madiath. Madiath’s sudden disappearance would no doubt cause some consternation, but he was sure they would waste no time reshaping the tournament as they saw fit, undoing all his changes to it. The city guard would no doubt try to get as much information from them as they could, but the vice-chairman and the others didn’t know anything that could lead them to him. 
“And where are you going to hide?” 
“Let’s see… I do need to apply the finishing touches to the underground project. It seems I have a fateful connection to that place. I’ll watch the excitement of the Lindvolus from the shadows.” 
“…And are you going to join the final act yourself?” Dirk scoffed. That would be highly out of character for Madiath, he thought, but he chose not to add that to his remarks. 
“That said, this will make it more difficult for me to oversee every aspect of the plan,” Madiath went on. “Varda, I trust you will be able to deal with any unforeseen developments?” 
“…Tch, that’s asking for trouble,” Dirk sneered. “But I guess you’re not giving us much choice here.” 
As if they could just leave everything to Varda. The Orga Lux might have been able to manipulate people’s thoughts, but it was completely incapable of understanding them. 
“And the second problem?” Varda pressed. 
“Ah, indeed,” Madiath said lightly. “It appears our friends have extracted the shard of the Raksha-Nada that we left within Haruka. I don’t know how they did it, but that’s quite a feat.” 
“Huh? I guess that means Ayato Amagiri won’t bother with the semifinals, then?” 
“That is a logical assumption.” 
Madiath had manipulated Ayato into entering the tournament by leveraging Haruka’s life. If that danger had passed, there was no longer any need for him to continue. Having reached the semifinals, he was just a stone’s throw away from achieving a grand slam, but Dirk sincerely doubted that Ayato had the ambition to see it through. 
“What makes you think the other match will go smoothly?” he pointed out. “Saya Sasamiya is skilled, too. If both semifinal matches are canceled, won’t that throw a wet towel over your precious little tournament?” 
The average broadcasting ratings for the Festa this year had surpassed 70 percent. That was one of the highest numbers ever achieved. And it was only natural to expect the championship match to top that. The whole world would be watching in real time. 
“There shouldn’t be a problem. Even if the excitement dies down a little, that won’t change too much. It’s just a symbol, a way of initiating the process.” 
Judging by her tone of voice, Varda, it seemed, was as apathetic toward it as ever. No doubt she would have preferred to put the plan into action right away. 
“That’s the point. Precisely because it’s a symbol, we need to have as many people as possible witness it. If we could, I would like to burn the image of Miss Orphelia into the eyes of every single person on the planet.” 
Madiath, on the other hand, was resolute on the matter. He was obsessed with it. He simply needed that paradoxical combination of love and hate in order to function. As far as Dirk was concerned, it was pathetic. 
But then again, if he was any different, he wouldn’t have been able to wield the Raksha-Nada for as long as he had. The price that Orga Lux demanded was anger—the Runesword fed on its user’s resentment and indignation. And that level of anger required considerable energy. If that anger wasn’t without end, time alone would render the weapon’s user spent and wasted. 
The fact that Madiath had been able to maintain it for this long was nothing short of extraordinary. 
“So what’s your solution? You are up to something, no?” 
Dirk, as much as he hated to admit it, had to side with Madiath on this issue. If at all possible, they needed to ensure maximum anticipation for the championship match, so that all of humanity could know Orphelia’s power. He might not have believed in their goals as fervently as Madiath did, but there was no mistaking that this would change the world. So if he could leave his mark and transform this godforsaken sandbox of theirs, then he was all for it. 
“I have a thought. I can’t be one hundred percent confident…but Ayato Amagiri has a good heart. I’m sure he’ll meet our expectations.” Madiath’s soft grin as he finished speaking was so disgustingly slippery that it left Dirk feeling like vomiting. 
“Welcome back, Mr. President!” 
When Dirk returned to his office at Le Wolfe after the meeting, he found his secretary, Korona Kashimaru, waiting for him. Never mind that it was almost midnight; it looked like she still hadn’t completed the tasks he had left her. 
“Geez! How slow can you be? Don’t tell me you still haven’t finished?” 
“I’m s-sorry, really!” Korona bobbed up and down, bowing apologetically in response to his reprimand. 
Dirk watched her out of the corners of his eyes as he sat himself down on the sofa and rested his chin in his hands. “So how’s Orphelia?” he asked. 
“Ah yes! Her hand injury is pretty bad, but they’ve managed to stop the bleeding for now. But…her poison was too strong, so the medical staff couldn’t do a very thorough examination…” 
“I thought as much.” 
Korona didn’t know it, but Orphelia had stopped taking the medications that helped to keep her toxins under control. Even a drop of her blood would probably be enough to fill a whole room with poison now. Without the most thorough precautions, no one would be able to approach her closely. 
“Er, um… I know it’s none of my business, but shouldn’t she go to the hospital…?” 
“Don’t worry about it. They wouldn’t accept her anyway.” 
As excellent as Le Wolfe’s medical staff were, those at the hospital were indisputably superior. In fact, if all that was required was the treatment of regular injuries, he would have sent her there immediately. Nonetheless, in her present state, Orphelia required a dedicated isolation facility, and the hospital wouldn’t be able to prepare one on short notice. Nor would Orphelia herself want to go. She only had two matches left to endure. 
“B-but…she said something a little strange today…” 
“Huh?” Dirk turned his piercing gaze toward Korona, prompting his secretary to jump back in fright and bow her head once more. 
“I’m s-s-s-s-sorry! It’s none of my business!” 
“It’s fine. Go on. What did she say?” Dirk pressed her. 
Korona looked up at him fearfully before continuing. “Er, um… After the match… She’s normally sadder, you know…? But today, well, there was something different about her, I guess…” 
“She’s always moping around. That’s nothing new.” 
“I—I know, but today… She was angry, maybe?” 
“Angry? Orphelia?” 
Dirk couldn’t picture that woman, a living mass of grief and resignation, possessing such human emotions. 
That said, her quarterfinal match today against Sylvia had been a little odd. 
Sylvia was certainly a strong opponent, and she had clearly developed her strategy for the encounter. But still, Orphelia’s response had been unusually poor. If she had been her usual self, she should have been better able to counter her foe, her teleportation ability notwithstanding. 
Had she become unstable from her lack of medication, or else—? 
In any event, he would have to keep an eye on her. 
“I’m surprised you noticed. Are you interested in her or something?” he asked. 
“Huh? N-no, I mean… Ah, well, I think she’s incredible!” 
“Oh…? So cowardly little Korona isn’t afraid of our almighty Orphelia anymore?” 
Even to her admirers at Le Wolfe, the name Erenshkigal was practically synonymous with pure horror. For better or for worse, any normal person would no doubt flee in panic at the first sight of her. 
“Th-that’s not it! She’s terrifying, really!” Korona shook her head from side to side. “B-but… Well, putting that aside… I mean, she’s one of us, right? We all go to the same school.” 
“Oh, really…?” Her explanation was so absurd that Dirk found himself snickering involuntarily. 
Once more, he scrutinized the hapless figure of his utterly useless secretary. “You’re a strange woman.” 
“S-strange…?” 
Dirk let out a tired sigh. “Korona, I’ve got a job for you. Go to Solnage’s headquarters for me. From tomorrow…right, for about a week.” 
“Y-yes, sir… Wait, what?! B-but that means I’ll miss the final!” 
“Shut up! Just go back to your quarters and start packing!” 
“Y-yes, sir!” Korona stood sharply to attention at the sight of his threatening glare before all but dashing out of the room. 
“What a completely useless woman…,” Dirk muttered, but even he was surprised at himself for this small act of kindness. 
After all, the world would change with that championship match. 
And even if the thought wasn’t fully formed, something deep inside him wanted that idiotic and hapless woman to live through it. 
  
Percival Gardner was one of many children who had been born and raised at the Institute. 
She, like them, was the product of genetic-engineering experiments. Unlike the Hercules Project, the explicit goal of which was to create artificial Genestella a priori from otherwise regular people, the Institute had inadvertently produced her by modifying her DNA while she was just an embryo. 
Those experiments had borne many designer babies, but what made Percival unique was the fact that she had been born a Genestella. Back then, the conditions necessary for a child to become a Genestella had yet to be fully understood, and the probabilities were so low that it was widely considered impossible. In other words, the genetic manipulation that produced her had been intended to simply produce a regular person with greater than average strength and physical abilities, but instead, they had birthed a strengthened Genestella. And among those designer babies, only she had been born that way. 
Perhaps because of that, Percival had exhibited outstanding skills and abilities since her early childhood. Her physical strength and stamina, her intelligence, and her proficiency in combat were all first class, and she performed well in even the most arduous of simulations. Her only failing, as far as the staff at the Institute were concerned, was that her personality was too kind and gentle. 
While Percival was a team leader among the designer children, the others failed to measure up to the expectations of the Institute. In that place, experiments that didn’t produce results were mercilessly disposed of. Of course, the children also had value as products, and so they weren’t needlessly wasted. They were simply shipped out to places throughout the world for one reason or another. 
Still, there were some exceptions. Children who failed to reach a certain level of quality were considered deficient goods, and for them, there was no escaping their fate. After all, if they were put up on the market, they would end up damaging the Institute’s public image. 
And so, with the sole exception of Percival, it was decided the designer children would all be disposed of. 
She had confronted the staff, pleading with them to save the lives of the other children. As a designer child herself, she had no parents or family to call her own. All she had were the other children, born to the same circumstances as her. 
To her surprise, the head staff heard her out and even agreed to humor her wish. 
They simply changed from an aggressive disposal policy to a more passive one. The head staff used her wish as an opportunity to conduct performance tests with her and to train another team simultaneously. 
“How about this, then? If you and your team can survive this combat test to the end, we’ll call off the disposal.” 
Taking the head staff for their word, Percival and the others were sent to an abandoned city where each of the teams would face off against one another in a practical assessment. 
In the end, however, everyone except her had been annihilated. 
Nonetheless, Percival fought on ferociously by herself. She took command and fought at the vanguard alone, leading her companions against their opponents in spite of their obvious performance discrepancy. But it wasn’t enough. 
Unfortunately for her and the others, their opponents were other Genestella led by Rodolfo Zoppo and Dirk Eberwein. Rodolfo relentlessly pursued the designer children, while Dirk ensnared them in viciously deceptive traps. 
And then, when Percival alone was left standing, having lost everything she had ever held dear, she had been approached by Dirk. 
“Do you know why your whole team is dead? It’s because you’re incompetent as a leader. It’s not your job to do everything by yourself. You listening? It’s your fault they’re dead. If you had put me in charge of that lot…I’d say about half of ’em would have lived.” 
With those words, Dirk beat the results of the test into her. It might have only been a simulation, but it was enough to break her heart. 
“But how about this? I’ll take your skills. You’re useless as a leader, but you’re not bad as a weapon. Come to my team. I’ll talk to those idiot staff. If I’m gonna beat Rodolfo, I’m gonna need you. Don’t worry. I’ll make proper use of you.” 
So Percival became part of Dirk’s team, serving under him up until the Institute sold him off to Le Wolfe. 
And then— 
Percival opened her eyes, staring out into the dimly lit warehouse. 
Around her, the autonomous puppets—the Valiants—were lined up, ready for deployment. 
Her head was throbbing. 
At the same time, a nauseating sense of guilt gripped her chest. 
She was tormented with self-hatred and a sense of inferiority—enough that she wished she could just disappear. 
But she couldn’t do that. 
She, the sole survivor among the designed, couldn’t do that. She had to keep going until the very end, to atone for what she had done. 
“…You’re awake?” 
She turned around at the sound of that voice to find the figure of the Varda-Vaos. 
Percival couldn’t read any emotion in those expressionless eyes staring back at her. 
If she, too, could be like that—but she stopped herself there. That kind of thinking was nothing more than a means of running away. And trying to escape from what she needed to atone for was absolutely inexcusable. 
“Hmm… It looks like you need some adjustments,” Varda said, resting a hand on Percival’s forehead. 
A jet-black light gushed forth from the necklace at her chest, and something beyond her vision flowed into her head. 
“Ah… Ah…” 
It was a strange sensation, having someone tampering around inside your mind. 
“Oh…? So even you have a wish?” Varda said. 
Percival remembered. It was her wish for the Festa, which she had been one step away from achieving. 
Assuming her team had won the Gryps, would the foundations have granted it to her? 
“…You want to destroy the Institute? I see,” Varda murmured indifferently. 
No doubt that didn’t mean anything to her. 
But Varda had more to say. Perhaps, as far as she was concerned, it may have been no more than a prediction. She may have had no intent to see it happen directly. But for Percival, those words were a great comfort. 
“Don’t worry. Once we have accomplished our plan, this Institute will be the first to be crushed.”