Nanatsu no Maken ga Shihai suru - Volume 7 - Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Free-for-all

Where would the current of battle flow on its path to the end? Far too many potentials existed, and no one could begin to predict them all. With multiple teams in a free-for-all, that was exponentially worse; a minor coincidence in the opening moments could prove decisive in the finale.

“Oh, wait, Nanao,” warned Yuri. “Dragon breath’s in effect there.”

“Hrm.”

Three days had passed since the prelim. The main act lay before them, yet in the first-floor waiting room, Oliver’s teammates were absorbed in a game, showing no hints of nerves.

“……”

Oliver himself knew there was no use fretting over things. He’d drilled a set of basic expectations and countermeasures into their heads, and now all they had left to do was stay flexible and take the match as it came. Perhaps relaxing was the best thing they could be doing. Certainly far better than stressing out. Still…

“Hmm, the golems are in a line. I believe I can combine them now!”

“Oh, nice, Nanao. Lemme check the rules. Um…once earth golems fuse, their resistance and attack…”

“…Increase eightfold, in that variation,” Oliver said, unable to stand by while they dug through a very thick rule book.

He glanced over the board stuffed with minis of all shapes and sizes, looking appalled.

“The match is upon us, yet you’re enjoying this chaotic mess of a game.”

“The turmoil is the fun! Have you not played Magic Chess Dynamic?”

“…I started with the fifteenth edition, Coolish, and kept up until the twenty-eighth, Invisible. But there I learned my lesson. Rules update every month, each completely overturning the fundamentals of the previous edition. Ordinary chess is far more polished and preferable.”

Even as he spoke, Oliver winced, hearing himself sound exactly like his father. The memories were coming back to him already. His mother, the undefeated champion—his father, reeling from another loss and wailing, “Noll, play me again!” But no matter which of them was seated across the board, he was always at his wit’s end.

“Five minutes till start. Take your places.”

An upperclassman’s voice dragged him from his reverie. Nanao and Yuri abandoned their game.

“Oh, it’s time!”

“Verily.”

They stood up, and Oliver joined them.

A voice echoed from the ceiling.

“Before our match begins, let me run over the rules again.”

As ten AM drew near, Garland kicked off the commentary. The feed from the surveillance golems showed the twelve students about to do battle.

“This is a four-team free-for-all. All teams will hit the field at the match’s start. Spells and blades allowed. You earn a point for each member of the opposing teams you take out, and teams that survive till the end of the match earn two additional points. The team with the highest total score is considered the victor.” Garland continued: “As per the previously announced terms, familiars and golems are allowed. Entrants wishing to make use of these but without any ready may borrow thoroughly average units from the league administration. Feel free to ask.”

These loaners were primarily to assist the second-year teams. Third-year students were expected to have familiars on hand for scouting and messaging, but it was hardly reasonable to expect younger students to match that. But since the competition about to start was entirely third-year teams, this was hardly a serious concern.

“This is the lower-form league, so naturally, dulling spells have been applied. Contracts are in place to ensure spell lethality is limited to noncritical damage, and the field itself has dulling spells applied to ensure no unfortunate accidents from, say, bad falls. In other words, league combat requires a means of determining injured and eliminated beyond the entrants’ actual physical condition. These are the rings you see around the entrants’ wrists, ankles, and necks.”

“These right here!” Glenda leaped to her feet, showing off the rings she herself wore.

“These rings detect extreme heat, cold, and impacts,” Garland went on. “In other words, offensive interference with the flesh. When the values registered cross a certain threshold, the spell activates—applying a local paralysis to the area around the ring. So if a spell scrapes by the ring on the left wrist, you’ll lose some feeling in your entire left arm—but if you soak that hit directly, you’ll lose the use of that arm entirely. Blows to the head or torso are registered by the ring around the neck, causing not paralysis but unconsciousness—in other words, eliminating you from the match. Even if the neck ring itself is intact, if all four limbs are down, you’re taken out.”

At this point, he paused and glanced at Glenda. She caught the signal and drew her athame, holding it in her dominant right hand. The screen zoomed in.

“The key point to understand here is that the loss of one’s dominant hand does not result in immediate elimination. Unlike a regular duel, this is a team battle. Without that hand, fighters may not be casting spells or swinging swords—but as long as they’re running around, they can still help their team win. With that in mind, we’re expecting everyone to scramble like crazy.”

As a general rule, mages could wield wands only with their dominant hand. In light of that, standard duel rules held that a cut to the dominant hand—incapable of casting or swinging—was a loss. But in a group event, this might not be true. There was still plenty that could be done: Mages could serve as decoys, soak blows for the others, or even focus on controlling familiars.

“We have several fields prepared, and these will be chosen at random for each match. The time limit is one hour. You are free to fight however you like within the parameters of the rules, but if you lurk or flee or avoid combat for too long, you’ll be declared unwilling to fight, and your rings will activate and eliminate you. Take care that does not happen.”

Fight—and survive. As primal a theme as any.

Garland wasn’t quite done yet.

“Forbidden actions—first and foremost, any and all dangerous behaviors that could lead to death or lasting damage. That includes all curses. Even if it doesn’t fall under those parameters, inflicting unnecessary or excessive pain is obviously forbidden. Anyone spotted engaging in such behavior will receive a warning or a penalty, and if deemed dire enough, they may be immediately disqualified. To that end, there are upperclassmen placed around the field to act as referees. Remember, their eyes—and mine—are always on you.”

“So don’t be an asshole!” Glenda roared. A succinct interpretation.

Garland nodded, and Glenda turned to the two other students seated at the commentators’ table.

“For this match, it won’t just be Instructor Garland and me! We’ve also called in two candidates for the next student body president. Ms. Miligan, Mr. Whalley, can we get a word from each of you before the match begins?”

“Vera Miligan, presidential candidate. It’s an honor to be offered a seat at this table. Can’t say I love the company, though.”

“Percival Whalley, presidential candidate. I’ll ignore the inscrutable squawking next to me and simply say that I can endure any hardship for the future of Kimberly.”

They were already trading barbs.

“Yikes! Tensions are clearly high.” Glenda chuckled. But her eyes were on the clock before her. “Whoa! Two minutes till the match begins. Let’s welcome our fighters to the field!”

“Okay, it’s time. Get out there!” the upperclassman administrator barked.

The cloth covering one side of the room fell away, revealing a painting of sheer rock faces. They knew at once—this was the entrance to the battlefield.

Nanao and Yuri were clearly raring to go, so Oliver issued his first instruction.

“Hoods up. You ready for this?”

“You bet!”

“I can hardly wait!”

Enthusiastic faces vanished beneath their hoods. The pair’s anticipation clearly outweighed any anxiety. There was no need for Oliver to encourage them further. All three stepped forward as one and leaped into the painting.

For a few seconds, they plunged through darkness—then they were thrown out into an open space. Landing silently, they swiftly checked their surroundings.

“…The painting told no lies.”

Steep terrain, boulders bathed in orangish light. Few signs of life, but even with their eyes closed, any mage worth their salt could sense power emanating from beneath the ground. Even without a proper investigation, Oliver knew exactly what type of field this was.

“The first match will take place on the beldite reserves! Applying the labyrinth’s magitech, our battlefields reproduce real-world terrain in a limited locale! Both our guests have experience in team combat, so what do you make of this field?”

Glenda was already getting her guests involved.

The Snake-Eyed Witch smirked. “A mineral-rich zone? Certainly a field type that’ll rattle a newcomer. The first test will be accurately reading the properties of the terrain, and the second how they incorporate that into their strategy. A chance for our adorable juniors to display their skills.”

It would be faster to show them. With that in mind, Oliver applied a little mana to the ground at his feet. A rock pillar rose from it, growing to waist height in the blink of an eye.

“Oh!”

“Whoa.”

Nanao and Yuri both looked fascinated. It was a standard foothold alteration in the Lanoff school’s earth stance, but under ordinary conditions, you could hardly get an effect this dramatic without casting. Which just showed how extraordinary this terrain was.

“As you can see, the terrain here is primarily beldite—a spellstone with a high mana capacity. Magic that alters the ground will get a major boost. Even something like Clypeus. On the other hand, oppositional-element spells will be absorbed by the ground and their power diminished. Be prepared for that.”

Even as he explained it, Oliver felt like this was a pretty tricky field. His personal style made great use of the earth stance, so it had a big impact, and there was no telling what effects it would have on their opposition—whom they already knew far too little about. Before they entered combat, they’d have to adapt to the terrain itself.

“You can cause big changes with a tiny amount of mana, but if you forget that, you’ll end up shocking yourself with the power of your own spells. Or the lack thereof. You’ve been warned.”

As for the minimal necessary precautions, he deliberately explained no further. A verbal breakdown would be less useful for these two than acquiring an innate grasp. He quickly moved to other subjects.

“How’s it going for you, Leik?”

“Uh…not the best. The voices are quite soft… I can barely hear ’em.”

Yuri had his hand on a rock nearby, shaking his head. His quirk was still a mystery, but the voices of nature he heard were not going to help much here. This was far from a natural environment—the field itself had been made by the combat league administrators.

“Then we’ll do this legit.” Oliver nodded. He swung his athame. “Satus sursum.”

At his incantation, three shadows flew out of his robe, each headed in a different direction. Little golems, modeled after birds. They made a quick circuit of the airspace above the field, sharing their visual intel with Oliver.

“…Ngh…”

Processing four fields of view at once left him mildly “drunk,” but he adjusted after a few seconds. He closed his eyes and focused on the terrain observations.

“…I’ve got golems scouting,” he said. “They’re getting a big picture of the field itself and locating the other teams if possible.”

“Everyone starts by hiding and probing, huh?”

“Naturally, if we’re attacked, we’ll handle it, but nobody’s going to be running around without any information. Relative positions are going to be a major factor in the outcome here. If multiple teams surround you, you’re instantly in trouble.”

He held his athame out between Nanao and Yuri. Catching his drift, they placed theirs on his, and the map he’d drawn in his mind was shared with them. This approach required knowledge of the methodology and some practice, but mages could link minds this way.

“Sending the image. See it? I’ve set provisional directions, but we’re on the southeast side of the map. No enemies for around two hundred yards. The outskirts have some greens, but the elevation increases as you reach the center, leading up to a towering peak. Keep it stealthy, but let’s head there at top speed.”

“Mm-hmm, got it.”

“Position ourselves on higher ground. A military fundamental.”

All nodded, and they dashed off toward their first destination. Yuri glanced up from behind a rock—there were several small golems flitting around. The admin’s surveillance golems and the scouts of opposing teams.

Like Oliver’s team, the others were on the move.

“Spellstone reserves? It’s our lucky day.”

Jürgen Liebert, leader of one third-year team, was examining a stone in hand. The students flanking him nodded. The girl with hawklike eyes was Camilla Asmus, and the boy with fair, messy hair was Thomas Chatwin—the other members of Team Liebert.

“Then let’s get started.”

“Gonna be a real showstopper, boss?”

“Yeah. High-quality beldite… The build’s gonna be ideal.”

Liebert drew his athame and pointed it at his feet. His first spell flattened the ground around them. Then light flowed from the tip, drawing on the ground. As he worked, he issued orders.

“Blueprint A-3. It’s in your heads?”

“Yep.”

“Not forgetting it anytime soon, not after all that practice.”

Both set about their respective tasks, treating the ground as a canvas and covering it in letters and diagrams to sketch out a giant, ornate magic circle.

“Horn to the southeast, Ames to the northwest, Mistral to the southwest—all three teams on the move. Everyone’s running straight to the peak at the center! They all started at roughly the same distance from it, so who will get there first?!”

Surveillance golems had every inch of the action covered, and the audience was fully aware of what each team was up to. Watching the three teams converge on the high ground, Miligan put her hand to her chin.

“Yes…Horn’s team is noticeably fleeter of foot. Oliver and Nanao I expected, but I’m rather shocked Mr. Leik can keep up with them. He transferred in last year and hasn’t really made a name for himself—so perhaps we just didn’t know.”

“Hmph, speed alone will get you nowhere. Under these conditions, gaining the sole high ground means you must be prepared to be the target of all other teams. Have they given thought to what lies at the end of this race?”

Sensing that his political rival was backing Oliver, Whalley immediately moved to disagree. Her guests locked horns, and Glenda shot them a sidelong smirk—it was her job to keep the hype going.

“But the three-way race is not the only attraction! Look to the northeast, to the Liebert team! They haven’t taken a step outside their starting location!”

“Avoiding the race to high ground is one strategy, although I’m not sure what they stand to gain from staying put. I can see they’re sketching something…but do they plan to camp there?”

Whalley folded his arms, puzzled. To avoid affecting the battle, the surveillance golems were keeping their distance—and no one could work out just what was being drawn. Miligan looked equally lost.

“Even if they’re going full defensive and waiting for the other teams to crush one another, they’re still too far from the main action. They might be deemed unwilling and find themselves disqualified. So what is their plan?”

Eight minutes after the match started—the last chunk of which involved running up a very steep slope—Oliver’s team reached the top.

“Well, that was easy,” said Yuri.

“Stay on guard. No ambushes, but odds are the enemy’s close,” Oliver cautioned. “Clypeus.”

He cast a spell to adjust the terrain and swept his eyes over their surroundings. He had scout golems patrolling, too, but he had to keep them high up or they’d be shot down, and the functionality of golem eyes was a far cry from those of a mage. Placing himself on high ground gave him far more detailed intelligence, which made it easier to guard their vicinity and freed up the golems to cover a broader area.

“First, we’ve gotta find the enemy. Once that’s done, we hit whoever is a close run downslope. Our goal is always swift strikes to take one team at a time, not to defend this location.”

The increased elevation helped locate enemies, but Oliver had no intention of camping here. The advantage it offered was not worth getting surrounded. Yet it would be tricky if their opponents occupied it, so as they scouted, all three of them were planting spells in the ground and placing magic traps. Only a third of them would actually trigger, and the rest were fakes, but just knowing there were traps around would make a foe hesitate. The mineral deposits strengthening earth magic really helped here.

“…? There’s a team to the northeast, but they aren’t approaching. They’re drawing something on the ground, but I can’t tell what. They don’t seem like an immediate threat…”

It bothered him, so he left a single golem wheeling in the sky above. Nanao and Yuri were checking other directions, so he glanced their way.

“Hmm, not finding anything.”

“Nor am I. They excel at hiding.”

Oliver nodded, unperturbed. Unless you were specialized in stealth like Teresa, moving unnoticed was a real challenge in these conditions. If the enemy was escaping detection, they were either moving extremely slowly or not at all. Most likely hiding behind rocks and waiting for an opening. Inspecting the surroundings in light of that and their potential locations was limited.

Perhaps it was time to flush them out. As Oliver considered that, a vibration came from underfoot. All three saw rock fragments skittering down the slope.

“Mm, the field’s shaking,” said Nanao.

“An earthquake?” Yuri wondered aloud.

The pair exchanged frowns. But the cause was no mystery—the golem Oliver had monitoring the northeast was watching the ground rise at prodigious speeds.

“ ?!”

“Build complete,” Liebert said as the spell finished deploying. He wiped the sweat from his brow. He and his teammates were in rather different surroundings now.

A tower had rapidly grown from the ground, carrying them up. The top of it was now taller than the mountain peak, looming over the entire field. But it was no mere pile of rocks. There was space inside, windows coating the exteriors, and a defensive wall surrounding the level ground at the base. A literal fortress born from sheer rock.

“Nice.”

“Whew, glad that didn’t collapse halfway.”

Long white wands in hand, Camilla and Thomas had their eyes trained on the sights below. As they stepped forward, Liebert sat down heavily, his job done.

“…I’ll rest a moment. It should be tall enough. Can you aim?”

“’Course.”

“I’ve spotted them. On top of that little hill.”

They each took aim—at what had once been the field’s highest point. Their wands targeting the prey in position there, their chants rang out.

“Flamma!”

“Tonitrus!”

“Clypeus!”

Flames and lightning shot out of the tower’s tip, and Oliver quickly threw up a barrier. The wall creaked from the force of the spells, and hot electrified winds billowed around the sides. Still scrambling to catch up with these changes, he barked an order.

“Spell snipers to the northeast! Don’t return fire! Stay low!”

Repairing his spell’s defenses, he urged Nanao and Yuri to defensive positions. He would’ve loved to shoot back himself—but the enemy was much too far away. At this distance, they’d be lucky if their spells even traveled that far. And they had other teams to worry about—defense was their only option.

“Wow, that’s really something. A whole new tower!”

“Indeed! That was not how I expected to lose the height advantage.”

Their cries were astonished and delighted, and Oliver couldn’t help but laugh, all the while analyzing what these latest developments meant.

“…Pretty sure it’s a golem fortification. Never seen one that size before.”

“Wowzers!” Glenda cried. “Team Liebert went for some crazy construction! They made a whole new tower and claimed the highest point with brute force! Or I suppose incredible skill. And the moment it was done, they started sniping Team Horn!”

“A golem fortification!” Garland added. “Well done, Mr. Liebert. An advance application of classical golem techniques.”

You’d expect him to elaborate, but the sword arts instructor broke off there, his gaze turning to their guests. Catching his drift, Miligan and Whalley spoke up.

“Allow me to explain. Modern mainstream golems prize careful construction, from materials to schematics, while classical golem practices merely prepare a core formula and use materials at hand to complete the build. The primary advantage is that you need merely carry a small core with you but can create large-scale golems.”

“The disadvantage is that the size and quality of the golems vary wildly by the materials at your location. Common dirt will just make cheap mudmen—the quality of the ground may make construction entirely impossible. But naturally—that can work the other way around, as it has here. A field of high-capacity spellstones is the ideal environment for golem work. Under ordinary conditions, three lower-form students would never have enough mana to build a structure that size. But here, if the caster is skilled enough, it becomes possible. Though clearly it took a lot out of him.”

Like Whalley said, Liebert himself was leaving the fighting to his team and recuperating. Perfectly understandable after a feat like that, Miligan thought.

“The bigger a golem is, the more mana it requires to move,” the Snake-Eyed Witch said. “But there has long been a view that you simply need not move them at all. In essence, golems are containers, so they do not technically require arms and legs. This golem fortification is clearly based on that principle. Essentially a mage’s pop-up fort.”

Garland nodded approvingly.

“Solid exposition, both of you. If I have anything to add—it’s that a build this large is hardly a matter of burying a core and chanting a single spell. You need thorough knowledge of the earth’s composition and the support of appropriate magic circles to ensure nothing gets unbalanced during the build itself. That alone is difficult enough, but Team Liebert pulled it off without a hitch less than ten minutes into the match. Mr. Liebert’s skills on main construction are commendable, but this proves the entire team came well prepared.” He then added, “Effectively, this flips the terrain advantage that Team Horn’s speed gained. They’re in trouble already—and if they make the wrong judgment call here, they’ll be swiftly cornered.”

Meanwhile, at the base of the rocky mountain Oliver’s team had occupied, another team was getting ready to act.

“There goes Team Liebert. What a sport.”

The three-man team led by Rosé Mistral. Like Oliver assumed, they’d been hiding behind rocks, waiting for a chance to attack. And that opportunity had just presented itself.

“Time we do our part. Effingo frable.”

He closed his eyes, beginning an incantation. An amorphous fluid born from his wand steadily took form, the outline growing clear—and in time, two more Rosé Mistrals stood before him.

“Clypeus! Down the hill! This is no longer the highest point, so no use staying put!” Oliver barked, strengthening the barrier against the powerful spells raining down from the northeast.

Yuri turned in the opposite direction.

“Mm, if we want to avoid the snipers, we’d need to head west…,” he said, peeking down the slope. A lightning spell hit the rocks nearby, and the shower of sparks made him duck back under cover. “But, uh, it’s occupied. We’re pinned down above and below.”

“I see full teams to the northwest and southwest. We’re punching through the latter.”

The results of his scouting informed Oliver’s decision. Using the mountain itself as cover against the snipers, they’d head southwest and use the momentum of the downslope to push past the team stationed there—or even take them out. The terrain switch up had been a surprise, but the general plan hadn’t changed: one team at a time, as hard as they could.

With their new goal confirmed, the team set out—but then Yuri stopped in his tracks.

“? What’s wrong, Leik? If we don’t move now, we’ll be a punching bag.”

“…Mm…but still…”

Yuri tapped his forehead, falling silent.

“This your thing?” Oliver asked.

“…I think so? It’s faint, but something’s speaking to me. Hmm…”

Yuri started cocking his head. Feeling like this was a bad sign, Oliver took another look around. The scouting he’d done had given him a good idea what their opponents were up to. Given their current positions, southwest was the safest move to make. But was he missing something?

As the wheels in his mind churned, more sniper spells came in, and Nanao’s spell strengthened the rock wall. Feeling the heat of the wind gushing past that barrier on her skin, the Azian girl murmured, “Most impressive. Spells of this force from so great a distance.”

She meant little by it; she was simply voicing her admiration. But it tugged at Oliver’s mind in a way he could not ignore.

“…No, that makes no sense.”

“Mm?”

“It’s downright unnatural. One team to the east, two to the west, but the teams on the west side are much, much closer to us. Yet the attacks from the east are clearly far stronger.”

This was feeling more and more wrong by the second. From their opponents’ perspective, this was a prime chance for all three teams to focus fire on Team Horn. There was no point in anybody holding back—and to keep the tower team’s line of sight, they’d actually want to push Oliver’s team to the east side of the mountain. Which would mean they’d up the pressure from the west. Yet the spells coming from that side were clearly far and few between.

There must have been a reason why the teams couldn’t hit them harder. At this point, Oliver had one of his scout golems look toward the peak upon which he and his teammates stood. There, he saw three figures plastered against the barrier wall, hiding among the snipers’ flash and noise.

“ ! Behind you, Nanao!”

The Azian girl swung around just as one of the figures leaped over the barrier, lunging straight at her. Nanao braced her katana—but as the figure reached her, so did a pair of lightning bolts.

“Hrm—!”

Cover spells timed perfectly with the assault. Three blows at once—and Nanao knew she couldn’t block them all. She made her choice and stepped hard to the left, dodging the right bolt, parrying the thrust to her chest and taking a swing to force her foe back. Inevitably, the bolt she had chosen to soak struck her left elbow.

“Bold and decisive. You live up to your reputation.”

“Tonitrus!”

“Impetus!”

Oliver and Yuri soon had spells flying in, but the figure danced around them and flitted back up on the rock. As the figure fell back down beyond, the wind caught their hood—revealing distinctive long bangs.

“But we took an arm. Next time—it’ll be your head.”

“Ms. Ames…!”

And with that, Ames was lost between the boulders to the east. With the sniper fire raining down, they couldn’t exactly give chase. Oliver had a scout golem follow, and he ran to Nanao’s side. The hit had resulted in her left arm dangling limply.

“I’m afraid my left arm is done for. I could not well afford to lose my right or chest.”

“Not your fault. I’m the one who failed to spot them in time. I was sure I’d found all our foes, and they took advantage of that. Those three must have circled around the south—which means half the foes I spotted are fakes.”

Oliver was as impressed as he was frustrated. It all made sense in hindsight. The western offense had lacked ferocity because there was only one team over there. The fakes had simply made it appear there were two. And before that perception error could be corrected, Ames’s team had slipped through the sniper fire, closing in from the south—then retreated to the east, preventing their pursuit. Hit-and-run, no injuries to their side.

There were several reasons why Oliver had failed to see it coming—chief among them being just how impressive the fakes were. Splinters and illusions ordinarily couldn’t move like the real thing, but nothing he’d seen through golem eyes had seemed remotely out of place. Was he controlling them expertly, so they appeared natural? Or had they been given an unusual degree of autonomy? Either way, the splinters were a major threat.

The second factor was the sniper barrage from the northeast. Alone, it was tricky—but it had also served a function, covering Team Ames’s approach. With the fakes tricking them into believing they knew where their foes were, none of them had been checking the south slope. If Yuri hadn’t sensed something amiss, their damages would have been far worse than Nanao’s arm.

“Worst of all, this means our foes are working together,” said Oliver. “You can’t pull off a strategy like this without prior planning. From the get-go, they were teamed up to take us out.”

“Three against one? A standard enough practice when one team is clearly stronger, but they’re not making any bones about it.”

Miligan was frowning, reassessing the match flow.

“Not a fan?” Whalley sneered. “I’m inclined to praise them. They’re doing what they need to win. That is how a Kimberly student ought to be. It goes against no match rules, yes, Master Garland?”

He glanced behind him, and their sword arts instructor answered with a silent smile. Encouraged, Whalley lambasted his political rival.

“To avoid this outcome, Team Horn should have made overtures themselves. If they’d managed to ally with just one of these teams, we’d be seeing a very different match. Their indolence is a sign of their conceit. Or can you refute that, Miligan?”

He shot her a challenge, but the Snake-Eyed Witch pointedly ignored it. Fixation on victory was one thing—but mages had pride and style, too. And that must be proven not by her—but by the underclassmen fighting before them.

“…Message from Team Ames. Surprise attack successful; Ms. Hibiya lost her left arm.”

A signal via mana frequency from a scout golem above, sent to Team Mistral in the rocky foothills to the west. The teammate who received the message relayed it to their leader.

“Then she can’t use that two-handed Flow Cut,” Rosé Mistral said, laughing aloud. “The wind’s blowing our way!”

“Hate to burst your bubble, but they’ll be coming right at us. And they’re onto the splinters,” the third team member added.

Mistral cracked his neck. “Bring it,” he said. “I ain’t shown even a tenth of the Mistral bag o’ tricks!”

At the same time, with three teams breathing down their necks, Team Horn had to make a choice.

“…They’re positioned well,” Oliver muttered, his mind’s eye tapped into the view of his scout golems. “No matter where we go, we’ll have eyes on us from at least two directions.”

With the height advantage gone, they gained nothing by staying on this peak. The only question was how to get down. The eastern slope was bathed in sniper fire and had to be avoided, but going west would leave them fighting the other two teams at once. Now that they knew their foes were in cahoots, it was all the more important they target one at a time.

Oliver made his choice in light of that, turning to his companions.

“Let’s try and surprise them. We’ll take a big leap that way.” He glanced to the northwest. “You both up for some acrobatics?”

Nanao and Yuri caught his drift and nodded in response. They all lined up in a row, facing the same direction. Athames in hand, the trio aimed for their feet and chanted in unison:

“““Clypeus!”””

Oliver’s fine control pulled the three spells together. The spellstone ground gave them a boost—the rocks shot up, lifting them all. That lift hit their feet and propelled them into a bound, sending them hurtling across the sky toward the northwest.

“Whoa, this feels amazing!”

“Most exhilarating!”

“Enjoy it all you like, but be ready to land. Elletardus!”

Their flight was all too brief. The ground was coming up fast, and their last-second deceleration spell applied the brakes just before touchdown. They intentionally left plenty of momentum so they’d land running pell-mell.

“C’mon!” Oliver roared, at the fore. “Straight at Team Mistral and take ’em down!”

“Gladly!”

“Before Team Ames gets here!”

With everyone on board, they rushed through a patch of boulders toward their target team. Positionally speaking, things weren’t at all bad. They’d landed to the south of Mistral’s team, so if their foes tried to run for it, they’d have to go north. But since Team Ames was on the southwest end of the field, going north would add to the distance between them. Oliver’s goal was to isolate. And with terrain this uneven, from the northeast, Team Liebert had no line of sight.

“…Hmm, they’re not running,” Oliver muttered.

Clearly, his enemies knew flight would be pointless. His golems could see Team Mistral holding their ground, ready for battle. Another few seconds of sprinting and they could see them with the naked eye.

“Did not see that flight coming. So hasty, Mr. Horn!”

“Mr. Mistral—”

Oliver’s team ground to a halt. Before them lay a cluster of stone columns and three hooded figures among them. But then the hoods went down—and three identical faces appeared. Three more opponents emerged from the pillars on either side, and now there were six Rosé Mistrals facing them.

“We’ve got your welcome wagon ready. Let’s party!”

All six sprang into action. Nanao raised her katana one-handed, and Yuri blinked furiously.

“Wow! They’ve all got the same face! Sextuplets?”

“Splinters and transformations mixed together!” Oliver yelled. “Don’t be fooled—the splinters can’t use magic!”

That was his best guess at the trick here. He knew this foe could use exceedingly impressive fakes—so of the six, half were splinters, and the real foes were Mistral and two transformed teammates.

“Going in!”

“Frigus!”

A spell interrupted Oliver’s thoughts, and he blocked with the oppositional. Figuring the caster must be real, he aimed for them—but they quickly slipped behind a column. Another foe joined them, and then each stepped out from different sides. Oliver scowled.

“…Okay, if they shuffle often enough, it’ll be hard to track who’s real.”

“Then we gotta down ’em as we spot ’em!” Yuri yelled.

He and Nanao plunged into the fray, and Oliver backed their strategy. It might have seemed reckless, but showing no fear was the right move. Splitting strength into the splinters reduced their enemy’s output—going all out would overwhelm them.

“Gladio!”

Nanao’s severing spell knocked down a stone column. If the obstructions allowed the real foes and splinters to trade places, then best to clear those away. Naturally, if possible, she planned to cut an opponent and the column.

While she kept the enemy on their toes, Yuri made his own aggressive move.

“Those footsteps sound off,” he said. “If those are fake—then you’re real!”

The moment his observations detected a discrepancy, he made a beeline for his target. Oliver and Nanao each shot a spell to back him and keep the other foes from stepping in. In the blink of an eye, Yuri was right on his foe—

“Huh?”

But as his athame swung in, he froze—in a very awkward stance. The Mistral before him smirked.

“Keh-keh-keh! Wrong answer!”

The laughing foe’s body glowed white—and exploded, scattering fireworks. Yuri instinctively leaped back from the blast radius but couldn’t avoid the light itself; he was left blind. The enemy pressed that advantage, firing a spell at his unguarded flank.

“Flamma!”

Oliver’s spell barely managed to stifle it in midair. He and Nanao quickly moved in, shoulder to shoulder, clearing out the volley of spells.

“Tonitrus! You okay, Leik?”

“I’m fine! That was close, though.”

It took only seconds for his vision to recover, and then Yuri was back in the fight. Certain he was uninjured, Oliver went back to analyzing—armed with new knowledge of their opponent’s formidability.

“…Self-destruct magic embedded in the splinters. A nice trick, Mr. Mistral.”

“Such praise! I’m touched.”

“We accept tips.”

“But which of us is real?”

Five foes taunted Oliver around five columns. If the fakes exploded, it was harder for Oliver’s team to cut their way in. Their foes lacked offensive options, too, but Mistral’s goal was to buy enough time for Team Ames to arrive—so he didn’t really care.

The gist of the strategy was clear by this point. In light of that, Oliver turned to their next plan—but Yuri was frowning, mulling over his misstep.

“Man, it doesn’t make any sense. I was sure I could tell them apart.”

“His goal was to make you think that. I imagine—”

But midsentence, Oliver did a sudden about-face.

“Fragor!”

The spell he launched raced through the air—and a figure shot out from behind the pillar where it landed. A seventh foe, on the exact opposite side of the battle from the previous Mistrals.

“That one’s real, Nanao!” Oliver yelled.

The Azian girl was already rocketing forward. With Oliver’s team between the seventh foe and the rest of the Mistrals, the latter could offer no aid to their newest comrade. Realizing he would have to fight his own way out, the seventh foe drew his athame. Nanao’s course never wavered.

“Tonitrus!”

“Tenebris!”

The bolt of lightning was blinding, so Nanao produced a blackout; the spells clashed, canceling each other out. The enemy tried to cast again, leaping back—

“Gah!”

—and a blade pierced his neck. Still in her casting stance, Nanao had thrust her way right through the clashing spells.

“Ms. Hibiya’s strike goes through the throat! The first fighter down!”

“He misjudged the distance. Likely assumed without her two-handed Flow Cut, his spell would actually hit her.”

Garland broke off again, glancing at the guest commentators.

Miligan quickly took over.

“Darkness against lightning. A beautiful use of an oppositional counter. For the benefit of the first-years, I’ll explain—you can shoot down spells even without the use of the oppositional element. Push back a fire spell with fire of your own. But if you take that approach, both your spells will linger, clashing in the air, and as long as they’re fighting for dominance, neither caster can step through that space. It leads to both parties keeping their distance and firing more spells. Since Team Horn needs to swiftly take teams down one at a time, Nanao wanted to avoid that outcome.”

A clear explanation of the techniques and a demonstration of her ability to lead the younger students. Whalley was not about to let Miligan score all the points, and he rather forcefully interrupted.

“But if you do employ an oppositional element, the spells cancel each other out and quickly fade away. If there is little discrepancy between the power of the spells, you can chase your spell and close in fast. You first have to identify the element your foe has used—so the closer you are, the harder it is. But if you pull it off, you’ll be on top of your enemy a moment after casting. Whether that was the right judgment call in this situation aside, her decisiveness and gumption are certainly commendable. I would have gone for a more orthodox castoff myself.”

Whalley wrapped things up with a trace of sour grapes, and Miligan smirked at him. She knew full well that whatever he might say, he was far too rational to underestimate the feat Nanao had just achieved.

Thrusting through an oppositional cancel was a choice she ordinarily would not have needed. Nanao Hibiya’s primary style would simply employ her two-handed Flow Cut to deflect her opponent’s spell and cut her way in. What was truly remarkable here was how effortlessly she’d pulled off an approach she ordinarily had no use for. A purely situational technique—one she’d nonetheless clearly honed till she could wield it on instinct.

And Percival Whalley was not one to diminish that type of slow and steady self-improvement. Which was why Miligan seized this chance to boast.

“Ha-ha! It’s all too easy to be blinded by her uncommon skills, but Nanao has clearly mastered her magic-duel fundamentals, too. Oliver would hardly let her remain remiss on that front.”

“But the match is still anyone’s to win. The lost teammate was not Mr. Mistral himself,” Whalley said with a frown. On-screen, the situation was in rapid flux.

The instant Nanao took out one Team Mistral member, two of the remaining foes disappeared into thin air.

“Fewer splinters,” Oliver observed. “I’m starting to see the trick here.”

Oliver stepped in—and Team Mistral turned on their heels, running. But he knew perfectly well there were no other teams ahead, and he swiftly gave chase.

“After them!”

“Sure,” Yuri said, keeping pace. “But can I get a briefing as we run? My head’s spinning!”

Oliver made sure Nanao was on their heels and started explaining.

“There were two types of splinters. The detailed corporeal models with the self-destruct and shadow splinters that were easier to detect. The former were likely under Mistral’s own control, while the latter were operated from hiding by the opponent we just eliminated.”

He was keeping it simple. When the fight started, they’d been facing Mistral himself, a student disguised as Mistral, a student hiding behind a rock, two corporeal splinters, and two shadow splinters for a total of seven. Since one type of splinter was more tangible than the other, they had assumed those were real—a trap that exploited the way the mind worked.

“Hmm, okay. So the one I thought was real was just a corporeal splinter. But how’d you know there was someone hiding nearby?”

“It’s a classic strat. Flashy stunts and actions to distract you from the real threat. A technique common in magical comedy—your basic misdirection. That’s why I had a scout golem wheeling overhead and keeping an eye on what it saw, which helped me spot the foe sneaking around.”

Camouflage spells used while hiding were easier to spot on the move. Assuming there would be someone lurking nearby, he had intentionally left his back turned, making his foe think he was exposed. And when that lurker started moving, he’d spotted them through the golem and fired a quick spell to flush them out, sending Nanao in for the kill.

But there had been surprises, too—Oliver had assumed the foe in hiding was controlling the corporeal splinters, yet they’d actually been in charge of the shadows. That meant they still had to deal with one that could blow itself up—one that was that much worse. And of course, there was still Mistral himself.

“If they start working with any other teams, it’ll be tricky. Finish them here!”

“Gladly!”

Nanao caught up with them, and they gave chase. Oliver’s team had the speed advantage, so the gap was steadily closing. Oliver drew his athame, certain they had them—

“ ?!”

Sensing a surge above, he leaped back. Nanao and Yuri did the same—and the ground before them exploded.

“Don’tcha go thinking you’ll escape my sniping that easy,” Camilla Asmus muttered.

She stood atop the northeast tower, white wand drawn. Naturally, she couldn’t see Oliver’s team at all from this vantage point. They were too far—and the steep rock formations themselves blocked her line of sight. No amount of squinting would help.

But that applied only to her own eyes. The eyes she was using were above her prey.

“Magnus Fragor!”

A second spell, fired at a high angle. It flew in an arc, cresting, before falling directly toward Oliver’s team on the other side of the obstruction.

“There it is!” Thomas Chatwin cried, glancing up at his teammate’s spell. “Angling her shots through golem spotters. Sure is something else.”

He was busy building a slight distance from the tower. The moment Team Horn had ditched the peak and headed west, he’d stopped sniping and headed to ground level. He wasn’t a half-bad sniper himself but definitely couldn’t manage what Camilla was doing.

“No time to watch in awe. Gotta get my own job done. Argh, so much to do!”

Grumbling, he cast toward the ground, generating a wall. While the battle raged on elsewhere, he had time to prepare for what lay ahead.

A second burst spell dropped down ahead of Oliver’s team. Not a miss at all—if they’d taken the shortest route after Team Mistral, they’d have been right under it.

“They can aim without any line of sight…!” Oliver shuddered.

And the tower was a considerable distance from here—few could even make the shot aiming normally.

There were three barriers to long-range spell sniping. First, getting the spell there. Second, hitting your target. And third, predicting where your target would be. The first barrier required high magical output and a honed mental image. The second required practiced technique and stable casting. And the third—well, reading the battle was a mix of sheer experience and an innate knack for it. Three towering obstacles, and their foe had added a fourth—aiming over a literal obstacle. They must be making indirect shots using scout golems stationed overhead, but that was clearly not something just any mage could do.

“We can’t get too close to each other!” Oliver yelled.

Nanao and Yuri spread out. That at least should avoid them getting taken out together, but they’d need a much better plan, and fast. As Oliver racked his brain for one, Yuri raised a hand.

“I’ll stave off the sniping,” he said. “That’ll keep me out of combat, but you can handle three-on-two, right?”

“…Go for it!” Oliver called, nodding. If they had one of them focused on the skies, the other two need spend far less of their attention on the snipers. This cost them a big chuck of their offense, but Team Mistral was already down one member—though they did have the remaining splinters. But Oliver and Nanao alone were enough to handle them.

They were back on the chase now. Yuri lagged slightly behind, eyes above, but they were steadily closing in.

Sensing that, one of the four Mistrals yelled, “They’re on our heels! What do we do? Turn and fight? Spread out and hope for the best?”

“Hya-ha! Don’t panic.”

The real Mistral cackled. The perfect time to spring a trap was when your foes thought they had you.

“Turn and fight? Spread out? Don’t be daft! We do what we do—trick ’em!”

He was already putting that into practice. Spotting a good-sized boulder up ahead, two Mistrals went on either side of it, shuffling the splinters and real team members. The new pairs ran off in opposite directions, but Oliver’s side was prepared for that.

“Nanao, right! Leik, you’re with her!”

“Consider it done!”

“Roger that!”

They broke away, and Oliver himself acted like he was chasing the pair on the left. But as he passed the boulder they’d used to shuffle their members—

“Tonitrus!”

—he fired off a spell without even looking, his arm alone pointing directly to one side. The ensuing bolt lit up the rock’s surface, and a figure shot out of the damaged camouflage spell.

“…Dammit…!” the figure swore, grimacing.

Team Mistral had made it look like they’d split in two—but they’d actually added a splinter, leaving one behind the rock as an ambush. When Oliver had seen through the ruse, the lurker hadn’t dodged in time—and was now down on one knee.

There was a trace of the oppositional element on his athame, so this was no splinter. His injured foe couldn’t run, but Oliver approached with caution.

“That’s the second time you’ve pulled that trick. You’re the real one, Mr. Mistral!”

The moment he was in one-step, one-spell range, he lunged forward. With a leg lost, his foe stood no chance. Oliver knew he had him—but in that instant, lightning shot toward his side.

“ ?!”

He quickly leaped back and fired off a spell at Mistral to keep him in place. As his foe dealt with that, Oliver quickly scanned his surroundings. On a rock to the rear left stood a short girl with bangs over her eyes.

“I barely made it in time,” Jasmine Ames whispered, faintly out of breath, athame in hand. Very conscious of her, Oliver leaped behind a boulder, plotting his next move. She’d caught up faster than anticipated, and he couldn’t afford to take risks here.

Keeping rocks between him and their spells, Oliver ran north. Once she was certain he was moving away, Ames sighed and lowered her blade.

“A swift retreat. That gentleman never overestimates himself. Most admirable.”

“Ha-ha…you saved my ass for sure.”

Mistral wiped the sweat from his brow. Ames quickly moved over.

“I’m unable to provide assistance to your compatriot,” she said. “The odds of your team emerging victorious are slim—but may I ask one more favor of you, Mr. Mistral?”

Her tone cold, she had her athame’s tip pointed his way. It was an order phrased as a question—and Mistral had no choice but to agree.

With one crisis over, it fell to the announcers to sum things up. Miligan was smiling, arms folded.

“A fight well worth watching. We simply must lavish praise on Team Horn’s adaptability. Don’t you agree, Mr. Whalley?”

She took a jab at her political rival, which earned her a frown. Garland stepped in instead.

“Two types of splinters, of very different natures. Mixed in with transformed teammates, creating confusion, and using hidden companions to attack from their blind spot. Team Mistral’s strategies were plenty viable in their own right. The fact that Team Horn handled that on sight is, as Ms. Miligan said, well worth praising.”

That went straight to the Snake-Eyed Witch’s head, and she jumped at the chance.

“Oliver’s the one making the calls here. Nanao may find her route to victory through pure instinct, but that’s not him. He must be bringing in a wealth of projections—a genuinely dizzying number—and incorporating those into their combat on the fly. The instant he realized their opponents were using splinters, he was already prepared for a trap like that.”

Sensing that this would never end if he allowed it, Whalley cut in.

“…He can make such accurate calls based on prior conjecture alone? How exactly has this boy trained?”

“Curious?” Miligan said, leaning in. “Want me to teach you the secret art of flawless judgment? Mm?”

Meanwhile, Guy was watching them from the stands.

“…She’s got nerves of steel. Already making it sound like this is her doing.”

“Well…um…she is teaching us stuff…,” Katie said, looking highly ambivalent.

Miligan was definitely providing Katie with firsthand instruction, but she wasn’t exactly teaching Nanao or Oliver on a day-to-day basis. But since they were rooting for her in the election, pointing that out seemed unwise.

In the booth, the two rivals were still bickering. Whalley had started edging away from Miligan.

“We have praised Team Horn enough!” he declared. “Ms. Ames’s movements were equally commendable. No normal run would have reached Team Mistral in time, so she closed the difference in a bound, using the same convergence magic as Team Horn. Leaving her team behind extended the length of the flight. A decision that paid off big-time.”

“Very true,” Miligan said readily. “I thought from the start that her movements were head and shoulders above her teammates. You’d think a girl of her abilities would have made a name for herself by now, and I’m downright baffled that this is the first I’ve heard of her. Was she intentionally hiding what she can do?”

“Oh!” Glenda cried. “Ms. Hibiya has caught the remaining Team Mistral member! With their leader down a leg, Team Horn has made a big comeback from a clear disadvantage! What will each team do next?”

Team Mistral had made several miscalculations, but their biggest was just how much the loss of an arm didn’t slow Nanao Hibiya down.

“Flamma!”

Spotting her behind him, the last Team Mistral member must have decided escape was not an option. He cast a spell to intercept her.

Nanao’s athame was a two-hander—it was natural to assume the loss of an arm would be a disadvantage. Loss of blade pressure during sword art exchanges, and the reduction of swing speed when using it as a wand, would work against her in a casting duel. And naturally, both of those applied to her.

“Frigus!”

So she had to compensate. Avoid getting bogged down trading spells. Use the minimal necessary strength to cancel unavoidable spells on the approach and redirect any magic conserved by that to her legs, helping her close the distance faster. The precision was astonishing. The moment she heard the first syllable of her opponent’s chant, she knew the oppositional and was already chanting a spell of her own. Once fired, she didn’t wait for the spells to dissipate but charged straight through the space as they clashed. Such a move required snap judgment and steady nerves.

“Tonitrus…!”

The Mistral member desperately chanted another spell, thinking, It wasn’t supposed to be like this!

Generally speaking, oppositional elements were primarily used by those with low magic output. After all—in a basic one-on-one duel, whoever was more powerful didn’t need to pick and choose what they cast. No matter what spell they used, they could power through—freeing them up to focus on aim and speed.

But at a power disadvantage, that was not an option. They were forced to make up for their lack of might. Use of oppositional elements was a key part of that, and even if they couldn’t entirely cancel the spell, they could deflect it, improving their own evasion. With directly opposed elements, the clash effects were simple and easy to predict—if other elements clashed, it was far harder to tell how the spells would react. Mages might find themselves soaking the brunt of a surprise flare, and fear of that tended to make their footsteps falter.

The astounding thing here was that Nanao Hibiya in peak condition had no such concerns. Her magic output was at the top of her class and was expected to get even better as she grew. It was rare for her to encounter situations that forced her to make careful use of oppositionals, and her infamous two-handed Flow Cut made short work of it if she did. She never needed this kind of precision casting. Training for it would be low priority—at least, that’s what everyone assumed. Mistral’s team had.

So their error came from neglecting what effect having Oliver Horn around would provide. Missing the fact that his coaching ensured that Nanao Hibiya had a thorough grounding in all things a mage could require.

“Gah… Clypeus!”

In range of her blade, the Team Mistral member would wind up like his companion before him. Desperate to avoid that fate, he went for a blockade spell. The spellstones in the ground strengthened it, giving him a sturdy rock shield—

“Gladio!”

—yet her spell cut right through it and hit him hard across the torso.

“Kah…!”

Detecting a fatal blow, the ring around his neck activated—and in the instant before his consciousness faded, the Mistral member knew why he’d lost. Barriers made with blockade magic could defend against most spells, but there was a delay between the cast and the wall fully sprouting from the ground. He was well aware of that weakness, and that had led him to emphasize the speed at which the wall had formed. And that haste had undermined his image of the spell, creating a barrier too flimsy to stand up to her severing spell.

“…Shit…”

With a curse on his lips, he toppled over. When she was sure he was down, Nanao silently lowered her blade.

“Oh, you got him already? Quick work, Nanao!” Yuri cried, catching up. The scout golems above signaled them to remain on standby, so neither moved. Less than two minutes later, Oliver appeared from the west. He’d seen the whole thing through his golems’ eyes.

“I took out the left side. A corporeal and a shadow splinter. The latter vanished quick.”

“Hrm? Then what of the last member?”

“Hid behind the boulder while they pretended to split up. I spotted that and took out his leg, but Ms. Ames interfered before I could finish him.”

As he spoke, he took a good look at the face of the boy Nanao had downed. With the loss of consciousness, the transformation had faded, revealing his true form. Having confirmed that, Oliver looked up.

“This isn’t Mistral, either. That means the one I fought must be. He still has his corporeal splinters available, so watch out for them as we fight the other teams.”

“Sure, but he can’t move that fast himself. Think he can keep making corporeal splinters?” Yuri asked.

Oliver considered it a moment.

“Splinters of that detail must burn through mana like crazy. He didn’t seem like he had an unusual capacity, so if he can make more, it’ll be two at best. Shadow splinters are another matter, but those are only sustainable near the caster.”

At most, they had to worry about only two more self-destructs. Aware that was functionally the last gasp of Team Mistral, Oliver focused his mind on the scout golems. He had one to the west, but it was showing the boulder, now deserted.

“…Team Ames has scattered and gone into hiding. We could go search for them, but it’ll take time to flush them out of cover. And there’s every chance Mistral’s splinters will waste even more of our time. Plus, if Team Liebert moves to the center of the map while we’re at it, they’ll be a problem. For safety’s sake, we should go the other way around.”

“Whoever acts first prevails,” Nanao agreed.

Oliver nodded and looked east.

“If we run at speed, Team Ames can’t keep up. Head for that tower.”

All three broke into a run, but once they were up to speed, Oliver spoke softly.

“One more thing as we run. Something I noticed while my golems were doing a full map scan. This field might well—”

Meanwhile, up the top of that distant tower, they’d already spotted Team Horn coming. Team Liebert’s sniper, Camilla, had long been biding her time, and she muttered, “Two down on Team Mistral—they’re coming for us.”

“I figured as much,” Thomas said, shrugging. “Rough luck they didn’t get at least one.”

He had only just returned from his groundwork outside. He glanced over his shoulder, where their team leader sat—Jürgen Liebert.

“Boss, you recovered yet?”

Liebert opened his eyes and got to his feet.

“…I’m good to go. We’ll just shoot ’em down.”

His voice never wavered. His teammates both nodded.

“Lutuom limus!”

Oliver’s spell hit a rock dead ahead, melting it. His team was picking routes with comparatively even ground, but obstacles like this kept blocking their path. This struck Yuri as odd.

“All these walls in our way, slowing us down. Another team’s plan?”

“Lutuom limus! Yeah, while we were fighting across the map, they altered the terrain, knowing we’d be coming for them.”

“Makes sense. Whoops, up above. Frigus!”

Yuri’s spell intercepted another spell flying in. It was fired from the tower straight ahead, so not that tricky to handle, but focusing his mind and mana on defending did tend to slow him down. And that frustrated him.

“Hmm, this path is right in their line of fire, and there’s all these walls. Maybe we should just circle ’round the mountain to our right?”

“No, this is the correct route. We’ll just pretend we’re circling ’round.”

Oliver curved to the right, and Nanao and Yuri followed his lead. Not long after, two lights flashed at the top of the tower—spells activating.

“Now! Back to the left!”

All three made a sharp swerve onto their original route. A few seconds later, both spells hit the right-hand slope—and a large swath of it began to slide. A gray flow of rocks and sand.

“A landslide?!” Nanao cried.

“Yikes, glad we didn’t go there!” Yuri said, eyes wide.

“They loosened the soil there and then hit it with a burst spell. If I were in their position, I’d have expected approaching foes to use that mountain as cover. That would be the first place I’d leave a trap.”

He’d predicted their opponents’ response to the situation at hand, and that was some small measure of comfort. Oliver’s gaze shifted back to the tower above.

“For the same reasons, I’m intentionally not avoiding the blockades in our path. Odds are high they’re trying to tempt us into using the less obstructed route nearby. They do slow us down, but traps we can’t see are a bigger problem than walls we can.”

“Hmm. Hmm… Hmmmmmm.”

Yuri had pulled up alongside Oliver and was now staring intently at his profile.

Puzzled, Oliver asked, “Leik, is there something on my face? Focus on the path ahead.”

“Ah-ha-ha, sorry, my bad. Just—suddenly real glad I’m on the same team as you.”

“Uh, thanks? But frankly, you’re getting the short end of the stick here. They came after us, and you’re caught in the crossfire.”

This was accurate enough; Oliver’s and Nanao’s reputations had encouraged the other teams to join forces. Yuri might have had better odds if he’d found another team.

“He speaks not of outcomes,” Nanao said, smiling from ear to ear. “Do you, Yuri?”

Yuri flashed her a grin, one as bright and clear as any little kid’s.

“I dunno how to phrase it,” he began. “It just feels like I see the world clearer when I’m around you, Oliver. Maybe ’cause you’re so good at explaining? Anyway, it’s super fun.”

The unexpected compliment left Oliver speechless. He turned his head away, cleared his throat, and changed the subject.

“…The tower’s not far off. Once we arrive, it’ll be full-on combat. Keep your wits about you.”

“Yep!”

“Always!”

Good answers from both, and Oliver realized something. It was buried beneath the tension and need to concentrate, but…he, too, was really enjoying this match.

Back up at the tower, Thomas was spell sniping from the roof with Camilla, frustrated by their plans gone awry.

“Why aren’t they taking the bait?! So not fair!”

“Horn’s in charge. I expected nothing less,” Liebert said. “Quit griping and slow ’em down.”

Their leader was the kind of guy who never crossed a stone bridge without knocking it down and building a steel one in its place. He’d never bank on his enemy’s mistakes. To his mind, this was proof things were going smoothly. Logical, accurate—it was easy for him to guess how Oliver thought.

“Shoot a few more, then head down. Be extra careful not to get detected.”

“Sure thing.”

“Got it.”

Neither teammate looked concerned. Their faith in their leader was every bit as strong as Team Horn’s.

“Hmm, the base is in sight.”

Spotting a change up ahead, Nanao drew to a halt, and Oliver checked the view through his scout golems. The random dents and protrusions gave way to a smooth decline into a rounded crater, at the base of which were the tower foundations, encircled by a ten-foot-tall wall. He shared that view through his teammates’ athames.

“That wall goes all the way around,” Yuri said. “Any sign of our opponents?”

“No, none.” Oliver shook his head. “Not since they left the roof.”

He’d been watching carefully with two scout golems but had seen nothing at the base or the windows on the side. He could try sending one inside, but these golems specialized for conducting reconnaissance and, if discovered, could be easily taken down. If Team Liebert was their last target, that might be worth it, but Team Ames was still in full health, and he couldn’t risk losing his scouts.

Oliver thought a few seconds longer, then picked a plan.

“…First, let’s get over that wall and in on the first floor. If the enemy comes down to fight, we’ll meet them there, but expect them to hole up elsewhere. In that case, we’ll use convergence magic to collapse the tower from the base.”

“A bold strategy!”

“Sounds like fun but a bit of a shame.”

With both on board, Oliver lowered his voice.

“Enter as one from three directions. Leik on the left, me in the center, Nanao on the right. Don’t just watch for enemy fire—expect traps.”

Splitting up prevented the enemy from focusing their attacks. Once each companion had hit their start point, Oliver chanted a spell at the wall before him.

“Lutuom limus—?!”

But as he was about to gouge an opening, a bullet of wind came through the wall. Oliver twisted his body, dodging. The hole it made was barely the size of a fingertip, and the sight of that made him shudder. Wind this focused meant the caster was aiming directly at him.

“Whoa?!”

“Hng!”

Shouts went up from either side of Oliver. Yuri and Nanao had met similar fates. Natural reflexes and instincts allowed them both to dodge—

—and a flat voice drifted through the wall.

“You’ve come a long way—and this next part’ll be longer. Impetus.”

““Impetus!””

All three leaped back as the foes across the wall fired more spells, aimed directly at their vital points. To avoid this, they began running, circling the defenses.

“Sniping through the wall…?! Nanao, Leik! Block their view above! Covell!”

He soon unfurled a curtain of darkness overhead, and his team followed suit. The first attack had been a shock, but he’d fired spells through walls himself in the fight with Miligan. Their opponents clearly didn’t have a direct line of sight—which meant the blackout spell would shut down any scout golems and—

“ ?!”

But his read was quickly overturned by two spells that skimmed past, one in front, one behind.

“The accuracy’s not letting up…?! They’re not watching from above, then. But how?”

Oliver’s eyes darted around, searching for an answer. When he looked down, he found it. The ground was too flat. Even a golem fortification had no need to make the surface this smooth—all it did was make things easier on encroachers. And the lack of magic traps around the base was downright unnatural. If there was meaning in that—

“You’re kidding?! The ground’s—!”

Across the wall, Team Horn was in trouble. The three members of Team Liebert couldn’t see them but knew right where they were. Magical maps of their base were installed on the floor here and there, displaying three moving dots.

“Impetus! How do you like dancing in the palms of our hands?!”

“Impetus! Don’t get cocky. They’ll figure it out soon enough,” Liebert growled. He fired a spell through the wall, and it almost hit.

“…The ground’s part of the golem! We’re on the enemy’s skin!” Oliver yelled, dodging spellfire as he raced along the wall’s length. But the conclusion he’d reached provoked looks of surprise.

“Um—you mean the ground can sense us? Like we can see bugs walking across our skin? The tower knows where we are?”

“Accurate enough! They can pinpoint our positions!”

Even as Oliver answered, his mind was racing. The ground’s flatness and the lack of magical traps were both choices made to improve the feedback precision. That suggested the tower’s detection was likely using pressure, heat, or mana, but figuring out which and preparing countermeasures would take time. Team Ames was closing in from the west, likely less than five minutes out—time was a luxury they could not afford.

“Should we just shoot back?” Yuri suggested. “If these walls are a circle around the tower, then they’re in the center, right? Random shots should hit!”

Oliver shook his head. “I considered it, but the inner and outer sides of this wall handle attacks differently. Our spells won’t penetrate as easily as theirs are. A shootout through the wall leaves us at a disadvantage.”

They could arc their spells over the wall, but that meant their spells had to travel farther than their opponents’. He’d rather punch a hole in the wall itself, but that would require focusing a spell on the same spot for several seconds running, and the ceaseless barrage prevented that. He even considered running up the wall and vaulting over, but the enemy must be watching for that—the moment their faces came into view, they’d be hit by focused fire and downed.

They had to get past the wall, but aggressive measures would backfire. With that in mind, he thought, was there a way to overcome this impasse?

“But what part?” Nanao asked, running some distance from him. Oliver and Yuri looked her way, throwing feints into their runs to throw off their foes’ aim. “If this ground is skin, what part of the body? The tops of the feet, the palms, the brow? Perhaps the chest or stomach?”

“? Uh, that was a metaphor—”

“Ah, I see.” She frowned. “Taken literally, I imagined the sensitivity of it might vary by location.”

A simple notion, but it caught Oliver’s ear.

“…That actually makes sense.”

“Impetus! See, see? You’re helpless!”

Team Liebert alone was on the offensive here. But a moment later—their assault died down. This strategy relied upon the magic maps on the floor, but the three dots had stopped flitting around the surface—and vanished completely.

“…?”

“Yo, boss! It ain’t showing their positions!”

Suspecting something amiss, Camilla and Thomas turned toward the caster. But Liebert himself was scowling at the wall.

“…Well played.”

Across the wall, Oliver’s team was still on the move—just not on the ground. All three were using Wall Walk, their feet planted on the side of the wall itself.

“Big drop in shot accuracy! Sensors were only on the ground!”

Spells were still coming but well away from any of them—proving this was the correct solution.

“Ohhh,” Yuri said, looking very impressed. “If the ground won’t work, try the wall! Good idea, Nanao!”

“I solved nothing myself, but if we have our answer, I welcome it.”

They were speaking softly lest their voices reveal their locations, running lightly around the walls. Even more certain his theory was right, Oliver focused his attention on the other side of the barrier.

“They’re on the wall…!”

Footsteps echoed in their ears, clearly coming through the wall itself. Thomas’s eye twitched.

Watching the other direction, Camilla asked, “Can’t tell where on the wall? Ain’t that part of the golem?”

“…Afraid not. There’s no sensors on the wall itself. Adding them would have to start with the schematic.”

Liebert was clearly not happy. He’d certainly anticipated they might try running up the wall, but he assumed his team could handle that based on where the run began. He hadn’t expected them to turn the wall’s surface into their main footing. And having them perpendicular to the ground meant they were much smaller targets. Sniping them like this was unreasonably harder, and Thomas let out a wail.

“I need height…! Can I move to the top of the wall?”

“Absolutely not,” Liebert snapped. “You’ll be cut down before you get there.”

From above, they might have a clear view of their foe, but Team Horn would hardly stand by and let them reposition. Relentless spellfire from all three of them was the only thing staving off incursion; if the barrage died down at all, their opponents would hit back hard and make short work of them.

“Don’t panic,” Camilla sneered. “We’ve got more walls, and they’ll have to punch a hole—and that’ll give us a target.”

That brought Thomas back to earth. With mana diverted to their feet, it was tough for any third-year to doublecant while Wall Walking. If Team Horn wanted to punch a hole in the wall, they’d have to converge and repeatedly cast single-incantation spells. And the hole itself would give away their location. Their aim would be approximate, covering the general area, but they could make up for that in size and quantity of projectiles.

With the plan in mind, they bided their time. And they weren’t wrong—soon enough, magic turned a chunk of the northwest wall from gray to dark brown. Camilla turned her wand to it.

“See? Magnus Fragor!”

““Magnus Fragor!””

It wasn’t just the one. Two, three doublecant spells from the interior. Oliver’s team watched them fly from their positions on the wall, well away from that location—and their run resumed.

“Three doublecants! Get through now!”

The enemies themselves had destroyed the wall, and they stepped on through, flinging themselves to the interior. Opening any hole would allow for telltale signs on the far side; they’d been well aware this would leave them exposed. The liquefying spell had merely primed the pump; they’d backed off quickly once their foes reacted, making Team Liebert open a hole for them. Unable to determine Team Horn’s actual locations, they were forced to up the attack size, using doublecants to blow away a big chunk of wall.

But getting through one wall didn’t exactly mean they were able to directly engage. The second they stepped inside—a second wall rose up from the ground before them. Yuri blinked, surprised.

“What? Another wall?!”

“They have spares?!”

“Don’t worry—the same plan’ll work. Pick our moment and get through!”

Oliver led the way. He’d never for a second believed there’d be only one line of defense. If once wasn’t enough, they’d just have to try twice or three times. He, Nanao, and Yuri started running along the second wall.

Team Liebert had prepared three walls for their tower defenses. Since getting through the first wall meant they’d have figured out there were sensors in the ground, the area before the second wall was covered in magic traps. But these were not designed for foes running on the wall itself. Team Horn had simply jumped from the first wall’s interior to the second wall’s exterior, never once setting foot on the ground and giving the traps no chance to activate.

And the fact that their own spells had allowed this intrusion made Team Liebert hesitate. Sensing that, Oliver’s team quickly opened a hole themselves and were through the second wall. The final wall rose maybe ten yards from the tower itself.

“Dammit!” Thomas yelled, feeling their foes breathing down their necks. “That’s the last one! Hit, please, let me hit! Impetus—gah!”

He was starting to fire frantically, so Camilla kicked him in the back. He fell flat on his face, then gaped up at her.

“Cool your head,” the sniper snarled, her wand trained on the wall. “If you start praying for a hit, you’re done. Better off not shooting at all.”

There was a quiet fury behind her voice, fueled by the countless hours she’d put into her craft. That time had given her a sniper’s pride.

“Don’t pray. Aim. No matter if they’re too far, too fast, or outta sight. As long as they exist, they’ve got a tell.”

Words her mentor had left with her. Teachings direct from the Supreme Witch of a Thousand Years echoing in her heart, Camilla Asmus focused all senses she had. The situation was tense, but from another perspective—not all that bad. With the walls this much closer, it was easier to detect their foes. The ears were more viable than the eyes—the sound of footsteps on the walls was all she needed.

“ ”

With her mind focused on sounds alone, she could tell someone on Team Horn was running diagonally up the wall in front of her. It wasn’t enough to take proper aim, but she could tell generally where they were headed. That made it possible to place a pebble in their way.

“Fragor!”

Camilla’s wand released a burst spell, her image leaning hard toward penetration, set to detonate just after it passed through. Since the bulk of the mana was devoted to just piercing the wall, the blast itself was not that strong, but no opponent could ignore an explosion in their path. Especially during a Wall Walk—they’d have to change direction or slow down, either of which would make it tough to maintain the technique. The result—they could no longer fool gravity, and it caught them—dragged them down.

A dot blinked on the magic map at her feet. In that instant, she knew right where her foe was through the thick wall.

“Fortis Impetus!”

Her aim locked on, a gale shot from her wand. Its range of damage spread wide to each side. This shot was closer to her target than any shot before, and they’d just landed and were off-balance. They stood no chance of dodging. She had them. The spell carved an ellipse in the wall like a cookie cutter.

“…Did you get ’em?”

The footsteps had ceased. Keeping one eye on his surroundings, Thomas peered into the hole, expecting to find a fallen foe—but Camilla had the answer first.

“Hah…”

It was Nanao Hibiya. On one knee, the katana in her right hand thrust to the fore, the strength in her eyes diminished not one iota. That sight alone told Camilla the fate of her spell.

“…Nice,” she said, unconscious praise escaping her lips. Objectively, her shot had been nigh flawless. The speed and force of the spell had been on point, timed to maximize the difficulty of evasion or blocking. If there was any chance of failure, it lay in one thing—a foe who expected to be hit on a landing and was already chanting an oppositional doublecant as their feet left the wall.

““Fragor!””

An instant later, two figures leaped through the hole Camilla had dug. As they passed through that final barrier, Oliver and Yuri cast to make Team Liebert flinch. Then they split up, closing in from both sides. Nanao herself came down the center.

Seeing their defense about to collapse, Camilla yelled, “Go, boss!”

“Obliged! Clypeus!”

Leaving a small barrier as some modest support, Liebert turned and fled. Three-on-three at this range, they could not win—and they were way past the point of escape. Liebert still had a part to play, and the others would be his shield. Their roles here were designated well in advance.

Camilla simply raised her wand, and Thomas stepped up next to her. All traces of his earlier consternation had since vanished—he was almost eerily calm. The failed attempt to snipe Nanao had blown aside all unnecessary emotions.

“Sorry. My head’s level now.”

“Good. Then overlap with me.”

Oliver and Yuri were trying to flank them, but the tower’s pillars and the barriers Liebert had left were momentarily shielding them. Sparing no thought to what would happen once those fell, they aimed their wands for Nanao Hibiya alone. Their mage’s instincts told them so—even down an arm, she had to be their primary target.

“Flamma!”

“Frigus!”

As she closed in, Thomas and Camilla fired polar-opposite spells that overlapped. Even if Nanao used an oppositional to cancel the first, the other element would hit. She was running full tilt toward them and could not dodge to either side. On her own, she could never block this attack—

“Flamma!”

—but Oliver spotted it, and his spell shot in, canceling his foe’s second spell. Nanao canceled the first with the oppositional as Yuri’s lightning hit Thomas in the chest. Camilla switched from her sniper’s wand to her athame, but by then Nanao was on her, piercing her chest before she could even raise the blade.

“Magnificent shooting,” the Azian girl said.

“Thanks.”

A brief exchange in passing. Then the spell on the rings activated. Thomas and Camilla went down, and Team Horn never even looked back, charging in after the final foe.

“ !”

Oliver’s eyes went wide. Liebert was ignoring them completely, his athame pointed at his feet. He was standing dead center on the first floor, in the middle of the tower’s foundation. A prediction—no, a conviction—sent a shiver down Oliver’s spine.

“Deicitis!”

And the incantation that followed put truth to his fear. The floor caved in beneath Liebert, swallowing him—and cracks ran out, up the pillars across the ceiling. The waves of destruction rose higher and higher, collapsing the golem fortification less than an hour after it was built.

The ground was covered in the tower’s rubble, kicking up a cloud of dust so thick, visibility was measured in yards. One boy was left looking around.

“They knocked it down themselves?! Hope everyone’s okay,” Yuri Leik said.

It might be a golem, but that fortification was still a building. It had taken a fair amount of time to completely collapse—enough for the people inside to get out before the rubble buried them. But each had fled in a different direction, and Yuri hadn’t been able to confirm his companions’ well-being. Much as he’d love to shout, Team Ames was likely on top of them, making that ill-advised.

“Send a mana frequency to the golems above… No, bad idea. With no visibility below, he’ll have them spread out, and that just means our opponents’ golems would pick up my frequency. Hmm, now what?”

“Over here, Leik.”

As he pondered how to locate his teammates, a voice came from shockingly close at hand. Yuri spun around and saw a pile of rubble towering high—and his friend’s voice came from within.

“My arm’s stuck…in the rubble…”

“Oliver?! Just you wait—I’ll get you out!”

Yuri hustled over to him. He wanted to start casting, but without knowing exactly how Oliver was buried, he had to check that first. He bent over, trying to see between the gaps.

“Huh?”

Then he heard something that made his body leap back faster than thought. The rubble exploded from within, a blade thrust out directly at his throat. Yuri barely got his own athame up in time to deflect it.

“Yikes?!”

“…You blocked that?”

The figure took a step back, facing him at one-step, one-spell range. A girl with bangs over her eyes—Jasmine Ames. Yuri’s brain finally caught up.

“Ms. Ames…you mimicked his voice? Fascinating!”

He seemed to take it in good cheer. Ames inched ever closer.

“You are an enigma, but I am lacking in time. I need you out, Mr. Leik.”

“Cool—let’s do this!”

He nodded, delighted to go toe to toe with a powerful foe—

“Leik, where are you? Answer me!”

“Yuri! Reveal yourself!”

Oliver, too, was searching for his team in the dust. He’d found Nanao and no longer needed to keep quiet—Yuri must have been close, so they prioritized locating him and started yelling. Then their ears caught a hint: shoes treading on loose rocks. They ran that way…

“Whoa—”

…and that’s where they saw Yuri’s eyes gleaming with curiosity—a marked contrast with the view below: Ames’s athame was stabbing him directly in the chest.

“Yuri!”

“…!”

Both Nanao and Oliver had their blades up at once, but as the ring knocked Yuri out, Ames used his body as a shield. When they halted their attacks, she shoved him their way and fled. They tried to pursue, but two lightning bolts shot over Ames’s shoulders.

“A close call, but at least we’ve downed one… There’s hope for us yet.”

Ames left a murmur in her wake, and Oliver caught a glimpse of two more figures in the swirling dust. Once more, she’d sent the most mobile member out ahead, her teammates bringing up the rear before she picked Yuri off when he was isolated.

Oliver braced for more. Once she was a safe distance from him and Nanao, Ames glanced up at the fallen tower.

“Team Liebert was prepared for anything, yet you took them down in no time. An impressive feat.”

“…All part of your grand plan? Including the part where you didn’t make it here in time?”

There was a trace of spite in his query; Oliver was mostly trying to buy time for the dust to settle.

But a smile played on Ames’s lips—then she sighed softly.

“Would that I could claim it was, but you give me too much credit. You remaining while the other teams drop out is the opposite of our intent.”

Seeing no reason to conceal this, Ames allowed herself a moment of self-deprecation. They were not yet in any state to snatch victory from the embers. They had not delayed their rescue of Team Liebert—they had simply arrived too late. Ames had been moving out ahead and arrived as the tower fell, with no opportunity to interfere in the battle that came before.

“That said, Mr. Leik is out, and Ms. Hibiya has lost her left arm. Far from what we’d hoped, but not yet worth lamenting. Still, this is no time for idle chatter. As promised, I’m here for your head.”

With that bit of bravado, Team Ames moved forward. As the dust thinned, Oliver and Nanao stood ready.

“Clypeus!”

”Gladio!”

Team Horn acted first. As the battle began, Oliver threw up a wall before them. Nanao leaped behind it, her severing spell aimed through the wall at their foes in a surprise attack based on the same principle that had allowed Team Liebert to torment them. Ames and one teammate heard the incantation and dodged, but the third member’s thigh was gouged by the magic blade.

“Guh…!”

“Haaah!”

The ring on her ankle activated, numbing her right leg as badly as any real injury. Slowed by this, Nanao stepped in close. Ames jumped in and barely parried; Oliver had cast a spell at the same target, and the remaining teammate narrowly managed to cancel that. This at last got them off the ropes, and all members of Team Ames backed off.

“Sorry, Jaz…!”

“Fine,” Ames whispered. “As I feared, three against two is still not enough.”

A single exchange had been enough to prove their disadvantage. Oliver and Nanao were guarding each other’s backs while realizing their full potential, but Ames had to cover for her teammates, which meant her own attacks lacked bite. With one down a leg, this would only get worse.

If the two teams kept fighting, her side would not last long. With that calm assessment, Ames switched plans—and laid the foundation for her next tactic.

“Then if you’d be so kind, Mr. Mistral—launch the final firework.”

“Keh-heh…,” Mistral laughed.

Behind a rock on the west end of the field, far from the flow of battle—with his leg gone, he couldn’t reach the others if he tried. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t fight.

“Outta mana anyway. Might as well dump it all!”

The yell helped psych himself up. He squeezed the last power out of his brain to process the view—from the two splinters who’d just reached the collapsed tower.

Two figures flew out from behind a mound of rubble. Oliver and Nanao immediately sensed their approach from the south.

“Hrm—!”

“…Thought so!”

They weren’t hard to spot. This was the only timing for the splinters to join in, and since constructing the collapse tower had absorbed all the spellstones in the area, the view was excellent. They’d been careful not to let Team Ames draw them into more obstructive terrain, watching for an attack from all directions. As long as they kept the upper hand in battle, this was a simple task.

“I’ll watch the splinters! You keep pressing Team Ames!”

“Gladly!”

They were already moving. Both were far faster than the splinters, and it seemed safe to assume their sole means of attack was exploding in proximity. They could not easily approach while the two of them were forcing Team Ames to fight defensively, and if they tried anything while Team Ames was on the retreat, it was easy to swing back and take them out. And the situation afforded no opportunities for Mistral’s tricks.

“Keh-heh!”

“Or so you’d think!”

The Mistral splinters smiled cryptically—and the game changed. Leaving their leader on the spot, Ames’s backup duo turned and ran south. Oliver frowned at that.

“Splitting up? Joining forces with the splinters?”

They’d been struggling with all three, so dividing themselves still further didn’t seem like a viable idea. His side could just pick them off, and even if they did join with the splinters, they were unlikely to work well together. And even getting that far seemed like a long shot. Without Ames nearby to back them up, Oliver’s team could make short work of them both.

““It’s fun time!””

Deeming it the natural choice, he and Nanao had turned toward Ames’s backups. But out of the corner of their eyes, they saw both Mistral splinters explode. Oliver hadn’t expected them to self-destruct here, but when he noticed how much smoke billowed out, he changed his mind.

“Smoke orbs…!”

Mistral had given the splinters magic tools, triggered by the self-destruct, and the winds of the blast spread the smoke far and wide. The Ames duo plunged right into the thick of it. Oliver quickly changed his mind. They could still catch them, but by then they’d be inside the smoke.

“Going into that’s a bad idea. Start with Ames!”

“Indeed!”

He and Nanao swung back north, running toward Ames. The worst-case scenario here would be chasing the others into the smoke and exposing their backs to Ames’s blade. In which case, they’d just have to take her out first. He’d yet to gauge the measure of her skills, but with Nanao by his side, he could not imagine they’d fail.

Nanao had been leading the charge to the south, so the moment they’d turned toward Ames, their positions were temporarily reversed. That left Nanao at Oliver’s back, not all that far behind.

Ordinarily, this would have been no big deal—but a moment later, the ground shot up between the two of them.

“Wha—?!”

“Oliver!”

A wall, before Nanao’s very eyes, right on Oliver’s heels—no warning whatsoever. Unsure what to make of it, both stopped—and Ames didn’t miss a beat. She lunged at Oliver, and their athame guards clashed.

She yelled at her distant companions: “Now’s your chance!”

““Fortis Flamma!””

The Ames duo had turned back and had spells ready. Two doublecants—and Nanao was up against the wall. Even she had no choice but to dodge. Leaving the wall put even more distance between her and Oliver, and he gritted his teeth as he forced Ames’s blade away.

“…Liebert’s doing…?”

“You don’t miss much.”

A reluctant compliment.

Oliver himself was more impressed than shocked. Their opponents had devised all manner of schemes to take his team down.

“…He’ll know what that means,” Liebert muttered, lowering his wand.

He was in a crypt-like space underground, not far below the clashing duelers.

“And that’s the last of my mana. Finish him, Ames.”

His eyes were on the wall in front of him—on a magic map, like the ones they’d used during the fight with Team Horn. This time, however, it wasn’t displaying the defenses around the fallen tower but a location to the east—exactly where they were fighting now. It had taken all three teams working together to lure Oliver’s group to the site of this final battleground.

Team Liebert had readied several contingencies in case their tower was taken. The tower’s self-destruct was the first of these—naturally, it was designed to take out their opponents with it. Second was this underground bunker—an escape route available only to the caster who knocked the tower down. That was how Liebert had wound up inside.

And the third contingency—a golem fortification sensor zone some distance from the tower and a magic map to display the targets within that range. This allowed him to follow the battle from down below. He wasn’t buried that deep, and the spellstones in the ground were boosting certain types of magic, allowing him to cast down here and affect the surface. And the magic map to pinpoint the positions of the other teams. Liebert had spent several minutes watching the dots, figuring out which dots were which team and how the battle was flowing.

He wasn’t sure what difference splitting up Team Horn would have on the battle’s outcome. But however the chips fell, he’d done his part. That spell had taken the last of his mana, and he was no longer even capable of digging his way back to the surface. He would have to hope for Team Ames’s victory and wait for the league staff to rescue him. With that thought in mind, he leaned back against the wall—

“…Um…?!”

Liebert felt a powerful vibration from below—and found himself floating.

The ground glowed and began shaking—and their bodies were pulled toward the ceiling. Oliver and Ames both acted swiftly.

“Hah—!”

“Tsk—!”

Their athames had been guard-locked, but they pushed against each other, using that force to open the gap between them—and start casting.

“Flamma—impetus—tonitrus!”

“Frigus—prohibere—tenebris!”

Freed from all contact with the ground, combat was no different from trading spells at a standstill. Spell after spell clashed in the air, canceling each other out. All the while, they fell toward the ceiling above. Even as they cast, both were flipping themselves upside down for the landing to come.

““Elletardus!””

Deceleration spells cast moments before landing. Each went immediately into a sideways roll to lessen the impact and were back on their feet, athame trained on their opponent. Boulders that had fallen in tandem landed like a meteor shower all around them. They faced each other once more, their respective handling of the situation so identical, it was like a mirror held up between them.

“Magnificent,” Ames said. “I take it you were aware that was coming?”

“Yeah…thanks to all the sniping, I was forced to take a broad view of the field.”

As he answered, Oliver kept an eye on their surroundings. After all that time on even rocks, this ceiling was almost entirely flat, a gently sloped dome. The result of large-scale reversal magic cast on the majority of the map.

The moment had arrived without warning, but not without any prior indications. If one understood that Kimberly loved this kind of big gimmick, careful observation of the map did provide some clues—chief among them being the distribution of the spellstones. It was well camouflaged, so you’d never see it from ground level, but viewed from above, the map’s rocky outcroppings formed lines, and those lines formed a pattern. Specifically—a massive magic circle.

“I figured it would activate as the match drew to a close,” said Ames. “But…probably because Mr. Liebert used so many spellstones to create that tower, a chunk of the circle was rendered inactive. I did not expect us to be divided by polarities.”

“Oliver!”

“Jaz!”

Shouts from above, where Nanao and Ames’s teammates still stood. The reversal spell had caught Oliver and Ames, but the others had been closer to the tower, and in the nonfunctional section of the circle. When the spell activated, they were left behind—yet Oliver could not afford to glance their way.

Eyes on his opponent, he called out, “Don’t step into the reversal zone! You’ll be picked off as you fall!”

“I require no assistance! The two of you keep Ms. Hibiya occupied!”

This way, everyone could focus on their own fights. Then—mixed in with the falling rocks, a student fell behind them: Liebert, yanked to the ceiling, shelter and all. The blow of the fall had activated his rings, and he was unconscious.

“Mr. Liebert,” Oliver muttered, confirming that in his peripherals. “Not surprised he was out of mana—the wall that split us up must have used the last of it.”

“It seems it did. He and Mr. Mistral both fought till they could fight no more.”

Ames’s praise made Oliver wonder about the latter opponent. Mistral had used a lot of mana on those splinters and was likely unconscious somewhere on the west end of the ceiling. Even if he’d avoided an outright knockout, Oliver was sure he wouldn’t be rejoining the fray.

“And I must live up to their efforts. While my girls are holding fast, allow me to finish you off.”

Ames changed her stance. Her edge grew far sharper, and Oliver felt a tingle on his skin. The four teams had fought their way down to the simplest of outcomes—whichever of them fell, the other would return to the surface and claim victory.

She looked ready to pounce, so Oliver adjusted his own center, shifting it forward.

“You’ve turned this into a proper duel. You’ve got the skills for it, then.”

“They would have served me poorly against Ms. Hibiya. Fortunately, I am facing you.”

A confident smile played on Ames’s lips. Her manner suggested she believed he was beneath Nanao, but Oliver felt no anger. In fact, he smirked.

“Spare me the taunts, Ms. Ames. That’s not your style.”

His attitude sent a message—Nanao would never once consider buying time, waiting for the outcome above. Nor would he flee the duel, whether Ames resorted to words she never meant or not. When she caught his intent, the smile on her lips fell away.

“…Forgive the indiscretion. Pray forget I spoke at all.”

As she said those words, a gust of wind caught her bangs. Her eyes contained the light of madness—and her lips curled into an uncanny arc.

“…!”

“In return, allow me to demonstrate—the Ames Spellblade.”

The thin veneer of pretense gone, what stood before Oliver now was something he’d seen so many times in this hellscape. An arrogance that never once doubted her victory. The smile of a true mage.

“Gosh, the field’s gimmick is live! A reversal spell on the whole field pulling our contestants to the ceiling! Chaos reigns over the finale!”

Glenda was at peak hype in the commentator’s booth. But in the guest seat beside her, Whalley frowned at the view before him.

“That, I welcome, but the dust is rather intense. The fighters on the ceiling are completely obscured.”

He spoke for the entire audience there. The feed provided by the surveillance golems showed nothing but the dust kicked up by the reversal spell’s activation. The cloud covered every inch of the ceiling where Oliver and Ames were dueling. A chorus of boos went up from the stands, and Garland awkwardly scratched his head.

“That’s on me,” he admitted. “The reversal spell shouldn’t have made line of sight this bad, but because Mr. Liebert drew ground from all around him, there was that much more rubble and loose earth than I anticipated. And it disabled a chunk of the circle, so…room for improvement.”

As the sword arts instructor chalked it up to a planning failure, Miligan was scowling at the dirt cloud.

“Shame we can’t see it. I imagine this duel will be over before the dust clears.”

First—this would be no spellblade. As he faced Ames down, that was the first thought on Oliver’s mind.

The reason for this was simple—if it was, he could not win. Fighting it with a spellblade of his own was naturally out of the question. That had to be saved for when there were no eyes on him and used on foes he had decided must be slain. This duel met neither condition.

His second thought—this was no mere bluff, either. The basis for that was none other than the fact that she had felled Yuri. That boy was made of instinct and inspiration, yet her blade had hit home—no matter what technique was employed, that was a formidable feat. Oliver himself had experienced it firsthand as they trained—Yuri could dodge moves he’d never seen like he was meant to. Even if caught entirely by surprise, his body would react via means the boy himself did not fully understand.

That wasn’t flawless, of course. Oliver and Nanao had each landed hits several times during practice. But most of these were the result of a lengthy duel that wore him out, and it was very rare that either managed it in short order at the start of a fight. As long as Yuri’s body could keep up with his mystery instincts, even an upperclassman would be astounded by how hard he was to put down. Yet Ames had managed it in the blink of an eye.

Oliver hadn’t witnessed the entire fight. But the information he had proved it had been exceedingly brief. He found them together not long after the tower’s collapse, without ever hearing a spell cast or the clash of blades. The fight had been over on the first hit—or at most a few extra swings. That was his best read on their encounter.

She had a way to take out Yuri in a handful of moves. Even if that was no spellblade, it was worthy of the utmost caution. In light of that, Oliver now had to consider the potential nature of her move.

“…………”

“ ”

In the moments before either stepped in, he made observations. Ames was in the Rizett mid-stance, Lightning. A form he’d often seen close at hand, as Chela regularly employed it. Given the outcome of her match with Yuri, several points added up.

When he’d arrived, Yuri had been stabbed from the fore in the chest. In other words, she’d thrust her blade right at him, yet he’d been unable to parry or dodge. What stances would make that possible? The Rizett school was all about sharp thrusts and quick lunges, and Lightning stance was one of the fastest such moves. Whatever form she’d used to take Yuri out, it was only natural to assume speed had been a factor. From what he’d seen of her fighting style so far, Ames employed a mix of Lanoff and Rizett techniques, so this was consistent.

The logical conclusion was that his opponent’s finisher was a snap thrust. There were hard limits on speeds that could be practically achieved, so it was likely a thrust that followed a series of high-level feints. Oliver knew the second spellblade by reputation alone, and that likely required no such thing—but in this case, he had decided to ignore that possibility from the get-go.

“…Whew…”

Lanoff style’s mid-stance was all about balance and would not allow him to land a first strike against Lightning. Could he appropriately respond to the attack he was expecting? The accuracy of that reaction would determine his fate.

He had to parry the thrust in time, yet not get baited by the feints before it. Observe his opponent’s breathing, center of gravity, even the direction of her gaze—every move she made. Miss no signs of the attack to come, read them all accurately—and then land a counter. A tightrope act with no margin for error, but his sole path to victory.

“…Ngh…”

Easy to say. But in actual practice, the daunting difficulty of it left him nauseous. He hated having only two eyes. No matter how wide he opened them, it hardly seemed enough to catch movements this skilled.

“See, that’s a bad habit.”

He focused so hard that his ears rang—and the echo of her voice came back to him. His chest tightened. It almost made him cry.

“Aw, don’t look so sad. It’s okay. We all have habits. You can’t fix ’em that easy, and if you think you have, that’s the most dangerous moment. Ed’s still a disaster. Let’s take our time here.”

He remembered this. He wanted to do what she could, but he couldn’t. And that was so frustrating, so depressing—he’d cried about it back then. The memories were so vivid now. Her hand mussing his hair, the warmth of her palm.

“But, Noll, remember this for me. When mages are really in trouble, it isn’t their eyes they rely on but their own personal world.”

His mother’s voice gave him a push. His tension unspooled. He unstuck his eyes from what he could see and simply felt the world that was his, letting himself expand out into it.

He felt no fear. And thus, he could leave his eyes open yet put his vision out of mind.

“Ah—”

In his expanded self, he felt something hard and sharp on the move. It was not his eyes that caught it, nor the other four senses. He needed no sensory organs to know what happened within. What a mage called their “self” was the entirety of the space in their domain.

“So slow.”

His error was clear at once. He moved to that feeling. His left hand touched her wrist and deflected the blade; his right leg moved him to her side—and raked her throat. It required no real speed. Just slightly more than she had.

The vision he’d pushed aside told him Ames was just now beginning her thrust. A chill ran down his spine. If he’d still had his eyes peeled, he’d have been staring right at that as her blade pierced his chest.

“…Magnificent…”

Her voice was a whisper right beside him; her body went limp and crumpled to the ground. Only then did his vision correct itself and show Oliver the girl he’d cut down.

“A terrifying art,” he said solemnly. “This is a victory I’m proud of, Ms. Ames.”

He held respect for her craft and gratitude for allowing him to hear his mother’s voice again.

With Ames down, Oliver rejoined Nanao on the surface, and the battle from there proceeded without incident. Minus their leader, the girls had no means of resisting Team Horn, and they were both eliminated less than two minutes later. Mistral was left barely alive on the west side of the ceiling, but he held his wand backward and put up his hands, indicating surrender.

“The match is over! Three out of four teams eliminated, so the victory belongs to the survivors—Team Horn! Unfortunately, a big part of the climax was impossible to see, but we know all entrants fought hard! Truly a match worthy of launching the combat league!”

In high spirits, Glenda brought the event to a close.

“Indeed,” Miligan chimed in. “Team Horn spent the entire battle thwarting their foes’ plans, but that in no way diminished the plans themselves. Team Liebert’s golem fortification upended the very lay of the land. Team Ames excelled at disruptive assaults and Team Mistral at use of splinters and transformations to delay. Including the early loss of Nanao’s arm, we can say the flow of the match itself was consistently on their side.”

“And yet Team Horn never succumbed to it,” Garland said, folding his arms. “Largely because their precision responses and constant movement prevented the other teams from grouping up. Had the fight with Team Mistral or the shoot-out with Team Liebert been prolonged by even a minute, Team Ames would have joined the fray, and they’d have been in real trouble.”

He glanced toward the guest seat, forcing Whalley to break his sullen silence.

“I’ll acknowledge Team Horn’s apt responses. But I can’t shake the impression they regularly made things harder for themselves. Rather than walk a tightrope in a three-on-one, make a deal yourself to ensure it’s at least two-on-two. I must insist it was conceit for them to neglect that.”

“Hmm, I’m not sure I’d push for off-field scheming that hard,” the Snake-Eyed Witch said from beside him. “The league is a festive occasion, and these things are allowed to slide, but if every league match was that obvious about it, they’d crack down hard. Striving to win is admirable, but let’s not forget the true purpose of this contest is to compare your techniques in a spirit of sportsmanlike rivalry.”

Whalley started to argue but then decided better of it. He realized anything he said here would sound like sour grapes. Miligan, well aware of this, fixed him with her best smile. She’d personally trained with the team that had weathered a tough battle and emerged triumphant—this outcome clearly bolstered her candidacy.

Rescue of the downed students proceeded apace, and thirty minutes after the match ended, all participants were back in the school building. As the campus buzzed with hot takes, Yuri awoke on a bed in the break room.

“…Mm? Where am I?”

“You have awakened, Yuri!”

He squinted at the ceiling, then turned to find his teammates awaiting his return to consciousness. Realizing what had happened, Yuri bolted upright.

“Oliver, Nanao, how’d it end?!”

“The other teams all wiped out, and we won. It was a tough fight the whole way.”

Oliver heaved a long sigh. Yuri hoisted himself up on the bed, turning to face him.

“Oh, so you did win? Then, uh, did you see that thing Ms. Ames does? That’s so neat! You can see her not moving, but she actually is moving, just really slowly!”

“You saw through her technique?”

“I am confounded.”

Nanao blinked at them both, but Oliver’s jaw was hanging open. Yuri had just blabbed the entire secret to Ames’s finisher.

In simple terms, it was essentially an illusion. Show an enemy something not real to make them react wrong—classic stuff. But the artifice involved was something else.

Specifically, using spatial magic (sans incantation) wouldn’t normally allow such detailed illusions. Even the shadow splinters Team Mistral employed required a singlecant, and if those appeared before you, the lack of detail would instantly prove them fake. Everyone knew that fooling your enemy with an illusion was incredibly complex, and thus it was almost never employed in the rapid-fire exchanges of sword arts combat. But Ames’s finisher completely flipped that assumption. How did she do it?

Simple: She didn’t create an illusion different from reality. She merely slowed the reality her opponent’s eyes perceived, overriding the truth. More specifically, she slowed the speed of light evenly across the range of her own spatial magic. This left Ames’s opponent piercing her movement on a one-second delay, and in that time she slowly moved forward to stab them. If she moved too fast, nonvisual senses would kick in—they’d hear her footsteps or the wind and figure out what she was actually doing. When Oliver said, “So slow,” he meant it literally.

Nanao was pressing for an explanation, so Oliver summed this much up for her. She listened avidly, eyes sparkling, then hit the key concern.

“Fascinating, fascinating. How were you able to see through it, Oliver? From what you’ve told us, your eyes were fooled and saw not her true actions.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t relying on my eyes. Every mage has a world of their own—an innate grasp of everything within the range of their spatial magic. I tracked her movements with that alone. Without the aid of your sense, you can just know those things. I’m sure you’ve both done it.”

Oliver reached out his hands, indicating the range. This had come up before, but a mage’s concept of self differed from that of an ordinary human. The most striking aspect is the personal “space” each of them possesses. This is equivalent to the range in which spatial magic can be used, and to a mage, everything within that range is a part of them.

Naturally, everyone is aware of what happens inside themselves. Carried to the logical extreme, you don’t need any of your senses to tell you what happens in that range. The accuracy of this knowledge is somewhat dependent on the individual but can be improved with training; at the highest levels, you can count the raindrops falling behind you, like Oliver’s mother could.

“The clever part of Ames’s technique wasn’t just the surprise factor in delaying light but that her stance and actions leading into it are suggestive, tricking her opponents into sharpening their eyes. If you see the Lightning stance, you expect a high-speed stab—and any mage will likely hyperfocus, trying to catch a tell before it comes. And that’s the trap. Since her magic is slowing light itself, no matter how hard you look, you’ll never actually see her move. By the time you notice, she’s run you through.”

And that concluded the lecture. Nanao grew all the more excited. She clearly wanted to pepper him with further questions about Ames and the fight, but he held up a hand, discouraging it.

“One moment, Nanao. Let’s go back a bit,” said Oliver. “It makes no sense, Leik. If you knew how Ms. Ames’s move worked, why were you downed by it?”

“Uh, so…I was just so excited to find out what would happen that I totally forgot to dodge. Sorry!”

“You forgot?! And you think ‘sorry’ will cut it?! Do you have any idea how hard we had it without you?!”

Oliver was ready to give Yuri a piece of his mind, but someone burst through the door of the break room. Chela saw the three of them in the corner, and her face lit up.

“Nanao! Oliver! Mr. Leik! A brilliant victory!”

“Oh, Chela!”

“Whoa—”

Before they could even finish responding, Chela had them both in an embrace. She was even more enthusiastic than usual, and Yuri looked very jealous.

“Lucky! Chela, don’t I get a hug?”

“Perhaps in two years I’ll consider it,” she replied, rubbing her cheeks with the friends within her clutches. It was nearly a minute before she was satisfied, and once she let go, she turned to Yuri. “That said, you did quite well. You’ve got my attention. What training lets you move like that?”

“Um, a few things, but…you know, eat well, play hard, lots of sleep!” Yuri shot her a thumbs-up.

“I’m not asking the secret to good health.” Chela sighed.

It was impossible to tell if he was playing dumb or actually was dumb. Either way, she abandoned the idea of getting answers, turning back to her friends.

“If you’re uninjured, let us return to the stands. The next match is about to begin.”

“Yeah—Katie’s team is in it, right?”

Oliver nodded. His match might be over, but their friends’ was just beginning.

“…I-I’m getting nervous.”

The time was ticking closer. In the waiting room, Katie had her hands clutched in front of her.

Guy patted her shoulders. “Loosen up! Let’s just have fun. Like, everyone’s stronger than us anyway.”

“I’m not convinced,” Pete snapped. He was looking over his magic tools. “Mages, teams, free-for-all—the kind of strength we’re comparing isn’t that simplistic.”

“…Ha-ha, you’ve sure changed.”

Guy started mussing his hair, and Pete pushed him away. Then the upperclassman by the door called out, waving them to the field.

The trio exchanged looks.

“Right,” said Katie. “Time to go.”

“Yep.”

“All right! Let’s kick some ass!”

They tapped their athames together and dove into the painting at the back of the room. A few seconds of darkness, then their feet landed on soft soil. They could smell moisture in the air, and all three opened their eyes, soaking in the sights. The ground was covered in tall shrubs and surrounded by water.

“It’s…”

“Pretty pastoral!” Guy said.

But Katie ran straight to the water’s edge, kneeling by it. Waves lapped gently. The water was clear and quite deep. She took a scoop of water and tasted it.

“…Fresh water.”

“All teams are in the field, and it’s time for the second match! This go-around, we’ve got the lake zone! They’ll be fighting on a cluster of islands floating on a big body of water! As always, we’ve got Instructor Garland here to offer commentary. And our new guests are Ms. Ingwe and Ms. Albschuch!”

Where Miligan and Whalley had been during the first match sat two upperclassmen. Lesedi Ingwe narrowed her eyes, scowling at the field on the feed.

“…I dunno about this map. Second-years won’t know Lake Walk yet; they’re at a big disadvantage.”

“Try not to furrow your brow, Lesedi. It undermines your dashing features.”

This purr came from the seventh-year elf Khiirgi Albschuch, but all it earned her was a vise grip to the jaw.

“Silence. Do not speak again. Quit breathing and blinking, and don’t even let your heart beat.”

“We actually do want our guests talking!” Glenda wailed.

Lesedi snorted and removed her hand from Khiirgi’s face. Garland chose to respond to the original claim.

“Ms. Ingwe’s concern is a valid one but one we’re aware of. We’ve provided something that should even the gap between the years.”

With that, he waved his white wand, and his voice echoed across the battlefield.

“This is Garland coming to you from the commentator’s booth. Can you hear me, contestants?”

Katie’s team lent an ear to the voice from the sky. Garland paused a beat, then continued.

“As you can see, this is a lake-district stage. A huge advantage for third-year students—they’ve mastered Lake Walk and can move around on the surface of the water here. So how are we making up for that?” Garland answered his own question. “The waters around you are filled with magical creatures. They come in all shapes and sizes, and some varieties are inclined to attack people. But these dangerous beasts are, without exception, trained to attack only third-year students. They pose no threat to second-years.”

Pete made a noise, stroking his chin. That was a pretty big handicap. It allowed the younger students to focus on fighting alone, while forcing the older students to constantly be on guard against rampaging fauna.

“Like every fighter here, the beasts have been enchanted with a dulling spell. But their training will be the only handicap in this match. Teams, bear that in mind as you determine your best path to victory. That’s all from me; may the fights be glorious.”

Garland’s voice petered out, and silence settled over the field.

Swiftly hiding himself in the nearby underbrush, Guy whispered, “And we’re off, huh? This sure is nothing like what Oliver’s team dealt with.”

“First, we’ve gotta know the lay of the land.”

A classic opening action—Pete drew scout golems from his robe and released them into the sky above. Where Oliver’s had resembled birds, Pete’s looked more like locusts. They flew off, exploring the entire zone in mere minutes; Pete sketched a simple map in the air with his wand, giving his team an oral rundown.

“…We’re on the northwest end. One of six islands on this lake. There’s some mist, but not enough to limit our field of view. No signs of any opponents.”

“If there’s no one close, then there’s no rush to move. Pete, can you look around in the water?” Katie asked, her eyes locked on the surface.

Pete grinned. “You know mine are amphibious!”

And at his command, two of the three scout golems changed trajectory, plunging into the water. As they did, they transformed, their wings replaced with fins, slicing through the water as fast as any fish. A specialized configuration Pete had developed as part of his magineering studies.

They couldn’t see as well as in the air, but the water was clear and visibility was not half bad. As they explored, Pete held his white wand out to the girl beside him.

“Touch wands, Katie. I’ll send you what they see.”

“Okay.”

She put her wand on his and let the two golems’ sights flow into her. The multiple perspectives briefly made her head spin, but she’d been training for this. Katie briefly closed her eyes, focusing on the two new points of view.

“…Two-humped frog eggs…a school of spearfish…a forest of thorned kelp…and a six-eyed water snake within. Okay, okay, I’m seeing the pattern here…”

As she observed the ecosystem, Katie started nodding. Twenty seconds later, she opened her eyes and voiced her conclusion.

“…This is definitely Instructor Vanessa’s handiwork. The whole design fits her tastes.”

“Huh. You can tell that much?” Guy asked.

“We’ve been butting heads for two whole years now,” Katie said, making a face. Then a beat later, that gave way to a cocky grin. “But it’s paying off here. Let me tell you how this field’ll work for us.”

“Whoa…!”

While his teammates watched, Dean gingerly stepped onto the surface—and his feet sank right in, water splashing everywhere. He quickly retreated to land.

“…Enough,” Teresa said. “I get the picture.”

“W-wait! One more try—”

“Give it up, Dean. Not like I can do it, either,” Rita said.

The vast majority of second-years had not yet mastered Lake Walking, and on this team, only Teresa could stay afloat. They wouldn’t be able to move around like the older teams.

Rita folded her arms, thinking this through.

“If we can’t walk on water, that makes this harder. Worse comes to worst, we can just have Teresa go off on her own…”

“That’s fine with me. But you’ll get taken out immediately if I do,” Teresa told Dean with a snort.

This left Dean grimly staring at his soaking wet shoes, but a few seconds later, he spun around and dove back in.

“Dean?” Rita asked, blinking at him.

He surfaced again, in a cloud of bubbles, only his head above the water.

“If we can’t walk on it, then we’ll just have to swim. I know how to do that!”

Teresa and Rita exchanged glances. He had a point. That was one way to do things.

Meanwhile, Andrews, Rossi, and Albright had finished their survey and were already on the move.

“Clear ’em out clockwise. Any arguments?” Andrews said.

The simplest-possible plan. And his teammates both shrugged.

“Suit yourself. Either way’s the same.”

“I must object! Counterclockwise is inherently superior, no?”

Andrews led the way, ignoring Rossi’s bullshit. Both teammates followed as if they were taking a stroll on a sunny day.

“No need for gimmicks,” Andrews intoned. “Find them, beat them, done.”

Seeing Team Andrews move out a bit ahead of the others, a stir ran through the audience.

“Whoa! Team Andrews is already on the move! The only team here that isn’t in hiding. A bold tactic!”

“They’re well aware they’re the most powerful team on this field. With fighters like that, you expect a confident attitude.”

“True! What do our guests make of it?” Glenda asked, turning their way.

Lesedi had her arms folded. “Agree with the master here. Only surprise is that Mr. Andrews is the team leader. I’d have thought that role would go to Mr. Albright.”

“Ha-ha. Not so fast,” Khiirgi breathed. “I like the look on his face today. Makes me want to lick his throat.”

Barely resisting the urge to elbow the elf in the face, Lesedi settled for silently scooting her chair farther away.

A clockwise advance, taking out opponents as they found them—Team Andrews’s bold approach did not go unnoticed by the other teams.

“…Yo, look at that.”

The first team to make contact had this misfortune of starting closest to them—a third-year team led by one Marcus Bowles. He’d had scout golems out watching them advance, but spotting them with the naked eye really drove it home.

“Damn, Team Andrews already…”

“No need to hide, huh? Talk about cocky.”

All three were hiding in the brush by the water’s edge. Team Andrews passed by a hundred yards out, and they began to follow.

“Stay hidden and on their tails. When they start fighting the next team, we start slinging spells.”

“Real painful ones. I wanna hear ’em scream.”

“Don’t be a dipshit. Before we waste time on that, we’ve gotta align elements or the oppo—”

But as Bowles scoffed at his teammate’s cretinous behavior—Andrews drew his athame.

“Impetus.”

He never even turned around, just fired the spell backhanded. A wind projectile with explosive force swiftly covered the hundred-yard gap, scoring a direct hit on the shrubs hiding Team Bowles.

“Gah—!”

“Huh?”

“No, wait…!”

It was all too easy. The sheer impact knocked the wind out of one team member—and he fell over, unconscious. While the other two were still gaping at that, a barrage of burst spells followed it up. The ground at their feet detonated, and their brains at last caught up with reality.

“Th-they spotted us!”

“Crap, run for it!”

“Whoa, what a fast match! Mr. Andrews’s spell has already taken out Team Bowles’s Mr. Quark! Looks like he didn’t realize his team had been spotted, and he failed to dodge in time!”

“Mr. Andrews did a good job acting natural until the spell went off, but the real deal here is Mr. Albright’s scouting,” Garland said. “I hadn’t seen that familiar before, but it’s a doozy.”

To illustrate his point, the footage of the spells chasing Team Bowles froze and zoomed in—on a tiny insect. A stir went up from the stands.

“Bees…and rather small ones.”

“Lovely!” Khiirgi said. “They blend right in with the field’s ecosystem. You can have two or three buzzing around you and never even notice.”

“The smaller the familiar, the harder it is to spot,” Garland added. “But at this size, the functionality of the sensors on board drops. Each of these little bees is gathering far less intel than the scout golems the other teams are using. Mr. Albright compensates for that by having dozens—hundreds—in flight at once, then collating all those data to locate his opposition.”

“That is some transcendent scouting! He’s not from a family of famous Gnostic Hunters for nothing! Sounds like the other teams will have a tough time hiding!”

The sound of Andrews’s magic downing an opponent soon reached the ears of Katie’s team. Pete was in charge of scouting, and when their eyes turned to him, he said, “That would be Mr. Andrews’s team. They’re strolling across the northeast island now.”

“Like, out in the open? That’s an opportunity. We should sneak in close.”

“Don’t you move!”

Guy had been about to push through the brush, but Katie’s hiss stopped him. She had her eyes locked on the air in front of her.

“I just saw a bee fly from their direction. I might be overthinking things…”

“A bee?”

“Not native to this field, I take it?”

“Bees that small don’t usually fly at that height. And look at what’s growing around us—do you see any flowers they’d be gathering nectar from?”

Pete and Guy eyed their surroundings—and there definitely weren’t many flowers. But they noticed that only because she’d pointed it out; left to their own devices, they’d never have noticed the bees at all. Based purely on his faith in Katie’s ecosystem analysis, Pete put his mind to what these bees could be.

“Honeybee-size familiars are tricky to use—but I wouldn’t put it past Albright. I know for a fact he’s used a stinger bee before.”

“Buuuut…we can’t exactly hide forever, yeah? How do we move?”

“Bees don’t have great vision, so we just have to move when they’re not right on us. Be very cautious of your surroundings, and keep your mana in check.”

All three nodded and began making careful movements. The whole time, Pete’s scout golems were keeping tabs on the other teams, and he was relaying what they saw.

“…Team Andrews is across the island. Still fully exposed. Looks like they’re making a clockwise circuit and planning to crush anyone they come across—sounds like them.”

“Well, they can bring it on! We’ll be ready.”

“Don’t let them bait you, Guy,” Katie cautioned. “We need to ambush them. And from an advantageous position.”

With all the elements at play, Katie considered their plan. Their own skills, their opposition, the lay of the land, the ecosystem—the world only she saw led to ideas only she could have.

“…Okay, I think I’ve got it. Listen up, boys.”

Approximately five minutes later, Team Andrews stepped out onto the water, headed for the next island—and saw three figures waiting for them.

“Hmm.”

They were still a long way out, but this trio was easily recognizable. Katie, Guy, and Pete—all clearly ready for a fight.

“Oh my!” Rossi whistled. “I ’ad expected them to ’ide.”

“Hmph. Judging from the looks on their faces, this’ll be a better fight than those nobodies.”

Albright grinned. Chants rang out on the far cliff, and a moment later, the water beneath him burst.

Naturally, the commentator booth didn’t miss the outbreak of hostilities.

“Team Aalto hits Team Andrews as they cross the water! What are their chances?”

“Not too shabby. The timing here is excellent; Team Andrews has to keep a portion of their mana diverted to Lake Walking. But since Team Aalto is onshore, they’ve got the firepower advantage. Team Andrews will be wanting to get back on land quickly, but Team Aalto knows that and is firing burst spells into the water nearby. The resulting waves make Lake Walking that much harder, both slowing them down and siphoning away their mana.”

Garland was focusing on the basis for this attack—when fighting a superior opponent, it was crucial to start the fight on your own terms, with every advantage you could find.

“And once they’re slowed, Team Aalto keeps the burst spells flying. They can try to use the oppositional, but with your foothold rocking, precision aiming is rough. And if they just dodge, then the water gets even choppier. Even Team Andrews won’t easily escape this one.”

“Team Aalto really used the terrain to their advantage! Perhaps Team Andrews’s frontal assault was ill-advised!”

But despite the turbulent waters, Team Andrews was taking the barrage in stride.

“Going right.”

“Then I will take the left!”

With that alone, they went their separate ways. Clumped together, the waves affected them all, so splitting up was the obvious choice. Naturally, Katie’s team had predicted this.

“Three-way split!” Katie cried. “Albright went left; Rossi’s coming onshore to the right!”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured.”

Guy grinned and started chanting. His spells struck two spots on the island—places where, given the landforms, their opposition was likely to come ashore. From those locations, trees grew—toolplants he’d placed there ahead of time, ready to quickly grow when the time came. Rossi and Albright found their advance blocked by thorny brambles.

“…Hrm.”

“Whoops! They saw us coming!”

Neither looked terribly pleased about it. Going around or cutting through with spells would both take a chunk of time, and while they were struggling to get ashore, Katie’s team could focus fire on Andrews. Alone on the rocking waves, he was a prime target.

But what Andrews did next, his opponents did not expect. He reached into his robe and pulled out a polished plank, half his height. Then he dropped it on the water and stepped aboard.

“Impetus!”

His spell activated, and his body shot across the lake’s surface. The wind at his back, he skimmed across the water, moving far faster than before. All spells aimed his way hit far behind him, and the waves they generated only aided in his surge forward.

Team Aalto gaped.

“…?!”

“What in the…?! He’s surfing?!”

“Don’t let up! Keep attacking!” Pete roared.

But their barrage was to no avail. Andrews darted left and right, weaving through it all—and approaching the island.

“Wowwwww! Mr. Andrews abandons Lake Walking for lake surfing! Nimbly dodging through their barrage and heading to the shore!”

It certainly got the crowd hyped up. Garland was nodding, eyes on the screen.

“Aha, interesting. That approach really is better with choppy waters. But if you aren’t a skilled hand with wind spells, you’d never pull it off.”

“But Andrews’s reputation precedes him! What now, Team Aalto?”

Not far from the island, Andrews started maintaining his distance, dodging spells. By this point, Katie’s team had realized just how hard he was to hit.

“So fast…!”

“Even if we do hit, it won’t down him.”

“Drop back to the island’s center! Hurry, before they come ashore!”

They abandoned the shoot-out and fled to the interior. The barricades flanking the island burst apart, and two figures strode through the remnants of Guy’s trees.

“That was a nuisance.”

“Ah, dry land feels so sweet!”

Through the obstruction at last, Albright and Rossi stepped ashore. Andrews reached the beach in front and stepped off his surfboard.

Rossi shot him a grin. “Hanging ten? You will ’ave to teach me ’ow.”

“Not as versatile as it looks. Most times brooms are faster.”

With that curt dismissal, Andrews moved on. Katie’s team had taken new positions at the center, and he stopped a good fifty yards out.

“We’ve eliminated our disadvantage,” he said. “I’m afraid this won’t last long, Ms. Aalto.”

“…I’m not so sure,” she replied.

Andrews and Rossi raised their athames to attack—but pillars of water shot up from the lake behind, followed by heavy footsteps.

“…Hrm?”

“Eh? Is this a joke?!”

They swung around, yelping. Seven feet tall. Maws lined with fangs. Ten-plus beasts, like crocodiles walking on two legs—leaving the water behind.

“What’s this?! Tallgators congregating onshore?! Team Andrews is now caught between them and Team Aalto! They never saw it coming!”

“Well done, Ms. Aalto. You read the terrain flawlessly.”

Garland looked pleased and was quickly reevaluating Katie Aalto. She clearly understood the nature of this field better than anyone else in the match.

Gazing at the magifauna behind Team Andrews, Katie whispered, “If you pay attention in magical biology and study the environment around, you can tell—what the apex predator on this map is.”

“Tch…”

“Progressio!”

The moment they moved to break through the center, Guy’s spell hit the ground. Another wooden barricade sprouted up. Since they’d always planned on surrounding them, he’d seeded toolplants accordingly. From behind that brush, he yelled, “Tough luck, but we ain’t about to get in a duel with you.”

“This is how we fight. As far as it takes us.”

Unable to advance or retreat, Team Andrews found themselves subject to another barrage of spells—even as the beasts charged in from the rear. They were forced to deal with both at once.

“Ha-ha! Not ’alf bad,” Rossi cried, dodging a fearsome set of jaws. “You ’ave not spent that long in Oliver’s or Nanao’s company for your ’ealth.”

Yet even as he spoke, he fired a spell into a gaping maw. Electricity coursed through the beast’s body, and it fell over unconscious. Another beast vaulted over the top of it, but Rossi kicked its jaw upward with his heel, and he used the body as a shield against Guy’s spell.

“…But we ’ave not exactly been slacking off ourselves. If you think a trifle like this gives you the advantage—it will not end well for you.”

More than a trace of bravado there.

“I’ll handle defense against the spells,” Andrews said. “You two finish these animals.”

“Just a pack of nothings. Won’t take long.”

Albright wasn’t sweating this any more than Rossi, but then something small darted out of the pack. It went right for his throat, and he dodged by a hairbreadth. He turned for a better look, but it was already hidden inside the throng. He had just barely caught a glimpse of a diminutive girl.

“Tonitrus!”

A spell from an entirely new direction—not from Katie’s team. He canceled it with the oppositional and snorted.

“More nobodies mixed in. A mild annoyance.”

The audience could clearly see all three teams going at it.

“Team Carste has been underwater this whole time, but they came ashore with the tallgators and joined the fray! Really taking advantage of the second-years’ beast immunity!”

“If they were going to jump in, this is the place to do it. I imagine Team Aalto was prepared for that possibility. It was vital they hit quickly before Team Andrews managed to down anyone. They’re well positioned, too. Team Andrews is being pummeled from all sides.”

Garland was full of admiration for Team Aalto’s plan. But as he watched the battle unfold, his frown deepened. In the time since the pincer attack began, half the gators had been eliminated…

“And they haven’t wobbled… All three of them are just that good.”

Despite having them perfectly caught in their trap, Katie’s team hadn’t managed to reduce their opponents’ numbers. Naturally, that was starting to get to Team Aalto, but the barricade’s defenses provided some small comfort. That meant the first to find themselves in trouble were the second-years attacking with the tallgators.

“…Hah…hah…!”

More specifically—Rita. Staying hidden and doing hit-and-runs was pretty similar to Teresa’s real fighting style, but it was definitely not Rita’s. She was hanging on because Teresa was adroitly keeping their foe’s attention off her, but alone, she’d have long since been spotted and taken out. And frankly, that time was not far off. As the beasts dwindled in number, there were fewer and fewer places for her to hide.

She was at her limit. And as she sensed that, Albright dodged Teresa’s strike, lost his balance, and left his back wide open. Her teammate had given her the chance of a lifetime—and Rita had no choice but to take it.

“…Now…!”

The distance was right. She’d been using spells, but those had all been blocked—so Rita slipped out from between the gators, her blade aimed for Albright’s back, certain she had him. But her athame came up short—alongside a heavy blow to her stomach from his counter.

“Gotcha,” Albright hissed, his eyes flashing.

“Gah…?!”

A back kick, the motion hidden by the folds of his robe—the same move Oliver had once used on him. The Lanoff-style Hidden Tail. He’d intentionally left his back exposed to set up this move.

“Impediendum. Hmph, the big one… The smaller would have been easier to carry, but no matter.”

The follow-up spell took Rita out of commission, and he hefted her with one hand, thrusting her at the beasts. They all flinched. Their inability to harm second-years was now Albright’s shield—but that provoked an unexpected reaction.

“Wha—?! You son of a bitch! Get your hands off Rita!”

“Augh! Guy, don’t—!”

Unable to bear it, Guy blew off his teammate’s restraints and vaulted over the barricade, coming after Albright directly. Using a younger kid as a meat shield was beyond his tolerance. Especially Rita, whom he’d been looking after from the get-go.

“Hmph.”

As Guy charged in, Albright lightly tossed Rita to him. Guy couldn’t very well dodge that. He caught her with one arm—and something hit him in the back.

“That was very you, yes,” Rossi whispered in his ear. “But also very bad. You are in combat, remember?”

“…Rossi, you asshole…”

Guy managed one last curse before falling unconscious, still clutching Rita in his arms.

“That was brutal! Mr. Albright turning a falling second-year into an anti-beast shield! Mr. Greenwood couldn’t stand the sight of that and vaulted over the barricade, only to get himself mercilessly mowed down! He’s outta the match!”

“The magical beasts can’t attack second-years, so this doesn’t violate the rule against reckless pain and suffering. Use whatever you can—it may seem heartless, but if this were a real fight, it would be the right call. Mr. Greenwood’s attempt to defend his junior is commendable on a personal level—but given the situation, clearly ill-considered.”

Stern words from Garland. And he saw a clear shift in the balance of battle, too.

“As numbers dwindle, so does the pressure. They’re no longer really surrounded—Team Andrews will make it out.”

Guy and Rita were down, and only a third of the gators remained. There was no longer any need for Team Andrews to fight in the middle.

“Enough. To the next island.”

“Hmph.”

“As you wish!”

Breaking through the lines, they darted northwest, over the bluff to the water below. But as they landed, two burst spells erupted from the water around them. Not from behind but from the island ahead where two figures stood upon the shore.

“Are they serious? There is no point joining in this late!”

“Cowardly nobodies.”

Rossi and Albright were equally contemptuous. Team Bowles had lost a member in the initial fight and only just come back for more. But attacking after Team Andrews escaped the island trap was clearly a blown opportunity. The three of them stalked across the rocking waters, perceiving no threat at all.

“Hmm?!”

But then a hand reached up from the water and grabbed Albright’s ankle. Between his raw leg strength and Lake Walk skills, he tried to resist—but the water was too choppy, and his struggle lasted only seconds. Long enough for the follow-up strikes to reach him.

““Fragor!””

Katie and Pete were leaning over the top of the bluff they’d just vacated, firing spells after them. Rossi and Andrews quickly evaded, but with one leg secured from below, Albright didn’t have that option.

“Tch.”

It didn’t even take a second. He quit resisting and let them drag him under before the spells hit. Two pillars of water erupted; the churn left Rossi and Andrews struggling to stay balanced, and those on the bluff took that as their opening.

“Now—!”

Katie, Pete, and Teresa all used Wall Walk to run down the cliff face, going for broke. The burst spells had left the water bucking, but while very uneven, the cliff face wasn’t moving. They had the stronger foothold. And they could aim spells as they ran—while the churning surf left Rossi and Andrews too unsteady to do the same. Theoretically, at least.

“…Impetus.”

“ ?!”

“Huh—?!”

“ !”

Andrews’s chant brought a gusts of wind that slammed the cliff runners in the back. He wasn’t simply generating winds from the tip of his wand—he was summoning the atmospheric currents, generating gale-force winds from above the cliff itself. Katie did her level best to hunker down mid-cliff but was in no shape to aim a spell.

“Rahhhh!”

“Hah!”

Pete and Teresa took a different approach. They let the winds snatch them up, throwing themselves off the cliff and swinging right at Rossi and Andrews. The waves had Rossi off-balance and leaning backward, and Pete committed to a Rizett-style Hero’s Charge—

“Whoop!”

—but just before his blade struck home, a sharp pain hit his belly. Rossi was bent way over backward, his palms on the water’s surface; he’d gone into a handstand to kick Pete in the gut.

“Gah…!”

“So close, Pete. My old self might ’ave been done in.”

Lake Walking on his hands on heaving surf, plus a bold kick to an airborne foe—both moves that required a lot of nerve and extraordinary talent. Pete was sent flying, landing on his back and sinking below the waves.

“Ngh…!”

“You’re good… You must be the second-years’ ace.”

Teresa, meanwhile, had double feinted into a blow that Andrews still blocked. She backed off, looking for an opening, yet her foe remained impassive.

“But if your first strike fails, you’ve lost your shot at victory.”

Even as his voice echoed, Teresa made to dart in—and a bolt struck her from behind.

“Guh…!”

She crumpled to the water’s surface. The man who’d downed her was at her back, half out of the water.

“He actually dragged me under. That nobody’s got guts, if nothing else,” Albright grumbled, stepping back up to do a proper Lake Walk. Beside him bobbed another second-year—Dean, now unconscious. His attack from below had momentarily pulled Albright into the water, but that wasn’t enough to even the odds.

“Pete!” Katie yelled, vaulting off the cliff. She ran to where Pete was floating, pulling him to the surface. They could have stopped her, but Team Andrews no longer saw the point. They waited until the survivors of Team Aalto were both upright, then aimed their athames.

“More fun than I expected. Retrain and come at me again, Pete.”

“…Why…you…”

But Albright’s challenge was also a good-bye. Three spells at once, no means of resisting—Katie and Pete went down together.

“Oh, Mr. Reston and Ms. Aalto are both out! They hung in there for dear life, but that takes care of Team Aalto and Team Carste!”

“They made their share of errors, but both teams clearly had a very strong showing. This one simply must be chalked up to Team Andrews’s ability to weather the storm.”

Garland was already summing up the match before it officially ended. As he spoke, Team Andrews was moving quickly to the next island, easily finishing off the Team Bowles stragglers. When the buzzer signaled the end of the match, Glenda made the results official.

“And the two survivors of the last team are out! Team Andrews wins without a single casualty!”

That evening, the Sword Roses gathered in their base. Each had endured a tough battle.

“Oliver, Nanao, Chela, congrats on making it to the finals! Shame our team lost, though. Damn it all!” Katie was clearly still extremely frustrated.

But with that, cider mugs clashed. The table might have been divided between the victors and the eliminated, but Chela had praise for each of them.

“All three of you should be proud. You fought well, and the match was a joy to witness. Garland was showering you with compliments.”

“Chela speaks the truth. You all did good work. They were just stronger. Rossi and Albright go without saying, but Mr. Andrews—the way he fought was a real eye-opener.”

Oliver meant every word, and Nanao was nodding the whole time.

“Indeed, he crackled with spirit from head to toe, moving with unbridled aplomb. A feat accomplished with the certitude obtained after reforging one’s self to perfection. If you ask me, Andrews now has the air of a true warrior.”

“Yes, Rick’s amazing! Oh, I mean…well, Rick is amazing, but… Katie, Guy, Pete, this match showed the fruits of your training, and you were in no way inferior.”

Torn between pride in her old friend’s accomplishments and joy in her new friends’ performance, Chela was starting to waffle. But little of this was reaching their ears. All three of them were agonizing over their loss.

“…It’s my fault,” Guy began. “If I hadn’t jumped out like that…”

“…If I were stronger—if I’d downed Rossi at the end, we might still have had a chance…”

“…The whole plan was mine. Ugh, if only we could rewind time…! I’m sure I could come up with something better now…”

Each voice was tinged with lament. Oliver looked them over, then straightened up.

Clearly, not one of them was interested in comfort or praise.

“You want more than words of encouragement, then?” he asked. “Very well. Let’s try the harsh version.”

His gaze shifted to the tall boy.

“Guy, as you’re well aware, rushing out to save Ms. Appleton was thoughtless. In a real fight, you’d have died with her. And you’d have put Katie’s and Pete’s lives at risk. Your life isn’t just yours—it directly impacts the survival of your comrades.”

“Urgh…”

Guy hung his head, gnashing his teeth.

Oliver turned to the bespectacled boy next.

“Pete, the regret you voiced is not what I’d point to. Committing to a Hero’s Charge in the endgame is not a bad choice. Without reducing your foe’s numbers, you had no shot at victory, and in those circumstances, risks must be taken. What you need to look at was the battle on the island earlier. You were too focused on landing your spells, and the result? They were far too easy to predict.”

“…Rrgh…!”

Pete was on his knees, his fists shaking.

And Oliver turned to the last of them, the curly-haired girl.

“Katie, your plan to use the field’s ecosystem was a good one. I doubt anyone else in our year could pull that off. But if I must point out a flaw—I can’t say you fully took advantage of the ecosystem. Frankly, in that situation—I’d have been using doublecant spells, hitting my enemy and the beasts at once.”

“…But then…!”

That was a cruel blow, and it made her voice quaver. Oliver knew only too well how it hit her, but he wasn’t ready to let up.

“I know you thought of it and decided against it. Even if the lethality of your spells is limited, you would never want to harm a creature caught up in the thick of your battle. But like with Guy, imagine if that were a real fight. Your reluctance to harm an animal prevents you from eliminating your enemy, and as a result, your companions perish. Naturally, if you’re certain you could make the hard choice in a real battle, I have nothing more to say. But are you really ready to make that call?”

Katie’s face fell. Oliver glanced over all three of them, eyes narrowing.

“Today’s matches proved one thing. As mages, all three of you are growing at a dizzying pace. Chela and I couldn’t believe our eyes. But watching you convinced me of something else—in due time, in some way, each of you will act as mages do and put your life on the line… And when that time comes, I don’t want you hesitating. No matter what you’re fighting—or who.”

There was a desperate entreaty in his voice. And all three felt the weight of it. For a long time, they were silent, mulling over Oliver’s words.

At length, he let out a sigh and stood up.

“Enough pompous lectures. Time for my own regrets.”

“…Huh?”

“Mm?”

“Oh?”

As his friends blinked, he pointed his white wand at the blackboard, furiously filling it with letters. Katie’s jaw dropped. There was a downright obsessive degree of detail, and every word of it was about mistakes he’d made.

“Every one of these—every last one is a mistake I made in this match! Strings of little oversights that added up to horrific failures! You all watched the fight, and I’m sure you saw things! Go on, turn the tables. Treat me like your punching bag and pummel away! Do your worst!”

Oliver’s words were a plea. He couldn’t stomach laying into his friends after all they’d accomplished. And Chela was the first to sympathize with that. She smiled and kicked things off.

“…From start to finish, you were reliant on Nanao’s and Mr. Leik’s adaptability. Your faith in them is commendable, but can you really call that leadership?”

“Urgh…!”

Every bit as brutal as he’d asked for, but it still made him stagger. And after seeing that, Katie shot up her hand.

“…Th-then I’ve got one, too… Um…Mistral’s splinters are totally not that hard to tell apart from the real one, you know? I spent the whole time confused by why you were struggling with that.”

“?! Wait, Katie, what are you talking about?! You could tell the whole time?!”

“Y-yeah. I mean, the shadow splinters are just plain empty, but the more fleshed-out ones—the way the muscles move is all kinds of weird. Bipedal creatures’ bodies are, like, far more complex.”

Katie was clearly just speaking self-evident truths, unaware of how uncanny her observations were. Oliver couldn’t keep his jaw closed.

Guy was grinning at that, and he fired another shot across the bow.

“For all your talk about real fights, you sure picked the fun option at the end. Did you actually need to fight Ms. Ames one-on-one? We couldn’t see the fight itself, but I bet it would’ve been way easier if you’d regrouped with Nanao first.”

“Gah…b-but they were watching for that! Moving back to the surface was risky! It was logically sound…!”

“If you ask me, after you dropped two from Team Mistral, forgetting about Team Ames and going after Team Liebert was highly questionable. You clearly underestimated the challenge of tackling that golem fortification,” Pete added. “Or…no, you were freaking out about Ms. Asmus’s sniping. But you knew full well only she could aim properly at that distance. You could have just left Leik on defense and been in no real danger.”

“Aughhhh!”

Pete’s words were a dagger to the heart and Oliver was left clutching his chest. Each of these points sparked debate and led to a detailed group analysis of both matches. Harsh criticisms flew like wildfire—but each one stemmed from touching kindness.