Oliver had seen the whole thing and was just as shocked. That golem's
counter was bizarre. Rossi had approached it undetected, so if it had been
sound reliant, its strike wouldn't have been that accurate. Sound was far less
accurate than vision to begin with. Since it had been sticking to wide-range
slashes, he'd assumed that was compensating.
But the golem upturned his theory again. Chela, Stacy, and Albright
each found thrusts aimed at them. These were much narrower than the whip
attacks but came straight out with no warning, and it was hard to react in
time.
Stacy barely dodged hers, yelling, "Hey, why did it change things up?
What's with this thing?!"
"Stace, it's too dangerous! Stay behind me!"
"A second phase? Damn…we were so close!" Albright swore.
Like the other two golems, the liquid golem had shifted attack patterns
to fend off their advance.
"...Hmm?" Nanao said. She leaped sideways as if she was testing
something. The golem thrust right at her, and she deflected it with her
blade. "It's anticipating our movements. Like fighting a human."
"A human?"
That word caught at the edge of his mind, and Oliver dug in after it.
These reactions were less like a golem than a living creature—and more
like a human than an animal. If it could predict their movements, then the
golem had experience in combat. The mad old instructor was famous for a
reason, but could he make a golem that did that?
" !"
Dodging another whip, Oliver racked his brain. It might be possible. But
it didn't quite make sense to him. For example—the attack he'd just
dodged. Like Nanao, he was stuck at the five-yard range, so why was the
golem using the whip? Why didn't it come at him with the pinpoint thrust?
Why was it able to attack the others but not him?
That thought was enough to reach a hypothesis. His position was the
key. They didn't know what the golem's eyes were, but he might be
standing somewhere that prevented it from accurately locating him. So
where might that be? What could be making him invisible to the golem?
Suppose the enemy's eyes were literally light-detecting organs. In that
case, the most obvious reason why he'd be out of sight was because there
was something between them. And the primary candidate for that obstacle
was the golem's own bulk. So the eyes must be on the other side of it,
which meant…
"Katie, Guy, Pete! Cover the instructor's eyes!"
That was the logical solution. The flow of battle had led him to be on the
far side of the golem from his friends. They heard him cry out from behind
it and looked at one another.
"H-his eyes?"
"…Come on!"
"Mm!"
None of them knew what this meant. But they turned around despite
that, ignoring any trepidation. All three ran right for the source of this
horror show—Enrico Forghieri.
"Oh? What is it, children?" he said, all smiles. "Question about the
assignment?"
Guy and Pete drew up close, looking uncertain of their next step. You
couldn't just point an athame at a teacher, and even if you tried, you
wouldn't be able to actually manage anything.
"…What do we do?"
"......"
Katie knew why they were hesitating. But they didn't have time to think.
The curly-haired girl sheathed her blade and stomped right up to Enrico.
"Pardon me!"
"Ohhh?!"
She put her hand over his eyes. Shaking his head, Pete did the same, and
Guy loomed behind them, using his tall frame to further obscure Enrico's
view. And the moment they were in place—the liquid golem's attacks lost
all accuracy. A horizontal slash passed harmlessly to one side, and Oliver
took this as proof his theory was correct.
"…The pattern's reverted! It was being remote controlled!"
There had been hints. The old man himself had pointed out that
technology was shared between marionettes, automatons, and golems. And
that meant golems were not guaranteed to be self-directed. It was entirely
possible someone else was issuing directives. That had been the trick here;
when it shifted to its second phase, the golem had been acting based on
Enrico's visual data.
Liquid metal spikes were still shooting out of the golem's surface, a
harrowing threat if aimed right—but now that the trick was uncovered, it
was nothing this group couldn't handle. All eight of them could leap back to
evade the thrust, then lunge in close as the spike retracted.
"Take it down! Frigus!"
"""""""Frigus!"""""""
Each jabbed an athame into the liquid golem and began freezing it from
point-blank range. The golem tried to fight back, but the frozen sections
couldn't shape-shift. A half-formed whip lost shape, and the golem stopped
moving.
"Don't relax yet!" Chela turned to the room behind her. "Anyone
nearby, step in and lend a hand. If we don't keep this thing frozen, it'll be
up and active again in no time!"
Students in earshot came running in, adding their blades to the pile and
pouring in more cold. The sheer volume was too much for the golem to
withstand. Certain the chill had stabilized, Oliver removed his own blade.
"Keep that cooling going!" he said. "Nanao, let's dig in!"
"With pleasure!"
Nanao freed her katana, and the two of them began excavating in
tandem. The frozen metal was as hard as steel, but to a mana-charged
athame, that was no worse than hardened soil. The hole in the golem's side
grew quickly in size. At this point, Oliver paused.
"Okay, we're almost at the center! Careful, there might be—"
Before he could finish that thought, there was a cry from the sphere
golem team.
"A—a magic trap! There's a magic trap in the golem!"
Oliver turned to look, and a third voice went up from the other direction.
"Same here! Shit, one false move and it'll trigger…!" yelled a student
digging into the top of the now-legless golem.
Chela glanced at both, then spun back to their own golem. "…Oliver!"
He nodded, took a deep breath, and dug in once more. Less than two
minutes later, they had their answer—right next to the golem's control core
was a box laden with sinister mana. It was nice enough to include a
countdown timer.
"…This one, too," he growled, gritting his teeth.
Across the room, Enrico got his face free, laughing maniacally.
"Kya-ha-ha-ha-ha! All three golems are defeated! Well done. Excellent
work! But the assignment isn't over yet! We're in the exciting bonus round,
now! Golems are fundamentally architectural constructs. We discussed this
earlier, remember? Homes, warehouses, or castles—all of them are built to
contain the people or things within. That goes for golems, too! They
frequently have a space at the heart, in which something is kept safe!"
As the old man motormouthed his way through this exposition, Oliver
fumed—precisely because it did make sense. Despite the ludicrous threat
levels of his assignments, Enrico Forghieri's classes always emphasized
understanding the fundamental nature of the topic at hand. And experience
with this principle was enough that he knew this was the final trial of the
day.
"And what do we have inside today? Your favorite! Magic traps! Safe,
stable, timed, spring-loaded ones! If you take too long or get the disarming
sequence wrong, they'll go off! Everyone within ten yards will meet a
horrible fate. Kya-ha-ha-ha-ha! A crisis, indeed!"
Enrico slurped away at his lollipop, making no effort to hide how
thoroughly he was enjoying the spectacle. Meanwhile, Albright withdrew
his athame and turned around.
"…Can't leave these to nobodies," he muttered. "I'll take the ball
golem."
"We'll head to the multi-legged golem, then," said Stacy. "Take care of
things here, Chela." She and Fay ran off. Andrews joined Albright at the
sphere golem.
Rossi shrugged. "Disarming 'as never been my forte. Maintaining this
icy chill will be my sole contribution."
"Shamed as I am to admit it, I, too, am ill-suited to gadgetry."
Nanao bowed out as well, which left Oliver and Chela eyeing each
other.
"…Guess it's down to us, Chela."
"I'm afraid that's our only option."
But before they could tackle the trap, a voice called out from behind.
"—Wait!"
They looked back and saw the bespectacled boy running toward them.
"…Let me in on the dismantle. I know I've worked harder than anyone
in this class. Let me prove it."
"Pete?! But—," Oliver began, then swallowed his protest. He
remembered something Pete had said before. "Quit acting like you're our
guardian. We're not here to get in your way."
The boy in front of him was no longer the frightened first-year who
didn't know his right from his left. He was a full-fledged mage, survivor of
a year in the Kimberly hellscape. It was high time Oliver adjusted his own
perception accordingly.
"…Okay," he said with a nod. "Help us out."
"Mm!" Pete instantly slipped in between them, and together, they started
taking the trap apart. All students in range watched closely, a cold sweat on
their brows.
This stage of the assignment was as grimly quiet as the combat had been
raucous. A mistake would mean disaster, not only for the people working
but everyone keeping the golem itself pinned. And if that wasn't stress
enough, the clock was ticking—
"Disarmed!"
"Ours is done, too! And just in the nick of time…"
Cheers went up from two directions. Albright's and Stacy's teams had
successfully disarmed their golems' traps. But the jubilation soon died
down—all eyes turning to the last location.
"…Two minutes left. Hate to say it, but we're out of time to analyze,"
Oliver muttered, lowering his wand.
They had the trap interior almost fully exposed. Chela and Pete looked
up at him.
"No time to debate the right approach, either," he added. "We've gotta
pick someone and leave it to them."
"You cannot be serious!" Rossi wailed, taking another turn on freeze
duty. But the trap's clock just kept ticking.
After a few more long seconds, Oliver said, "I nominate…Pete."
"…Huh?"
The bespectacled boy looked genuinely surprised, so Oliver hastily
added a rationale.
"From the work we've done so far, Pete's been the sharpest mind,
always one step ahead on picking apart how it works. He's really thrown
himself into magical engineering, and it's apparent his knowledge already
trumps our own. I think that's grounds enough to put the final choice in his
hands."
He made it clear this wasn't preferential treatment but an objective
determination based on the disarming procedure so far. Chela nodded.
"…True enough. It pains me to admit it, but I'm in agreement."
" !"
When they both looked to him, Pete swallowed hard, not moving.
Oliver gave him a nod. "We've made our choice. One minute left. If
you're willing, take it away." He shot the timer a meaningful look, well
aware the bespectacled boy's shoulders were shaking.
Pete knew this was no time for nerves—and so, white wand in hand, he
stepped up to the trap without steeling said nerves in the slightest.
"…Hah…hah…"
He knew what to do. The steps to disarm this trap were already clear in
his mind. But he couldn't bring himself to actually take them. His arms and
lips were petrified, his breath and heartbeat throbbing in his ears.
"…Hahh…hahh…hahh…!"
Pete knew further worrying was a waste of time, but his mind wouldn't
stop spinning. If his approach was wrong—he wasn't the only one in harm's
way. Everyone around him would go down, too. Oliver and Chela were
right next to him and would bear the brunt of it. But they'd put their faith in
him.
And that was what really scared him. That was far more terrifying than
getting hurt himself.
"…Can…"
"?"
"…Can you hold me, Oliver…? Doesn't matter how…"
Feeling a desperate need for reassurance, the words left Pete's mouth
before he knew it. Oliver let a single beat pass, then stepped up and put his
arms around his friend from behind. Like spreading his warmth through the
boy's frozen body.
"…I've been watching you. I've seen how much you've improved,"
Oliver said softly.
"......…"
"So trust me. You've got this, Pete. Do what you think is best."
He put his all in that brief phrase. Coupled with the embrace, it felt like
the sun beating down on Pete's back. And the bespectacled boy's arm
finally budged. The golem's shell was peeled off, exposing the trap's inner
workings. With his right hand, he slipped several toolplant seeds in, each
the size of a poppy seed, and then shook a small bottle of nutrients over
them. He held up his wand…
" Brogoroccio."
A growth-enhancing spell. The seeds sprouted, sending spindly roots
through the circuits. These sucked up the elementals flowing through the
device, and the magical connection binding the components was lost.
There was a click, and the timer's needle stopped. Two seconds left. No
one cheered yet. The silence was palpable.
It was broken by a soft clap.
"All traps disarmed and the assignment cleared. Congratulations,
children."
His maniacal laugh gone, Enrico Forghieri was now dishing out
compliments. As he did, he waved his wand around, sending candy from his
pocket—five pieces, for five students.
"Mr. Albright, Mr. Rossi, Ms. Cornwallis, Mr. Willock, and Mr.
Andrews—a treat for each of you. Not only did you disarm the traps, you
immediately identified the golem functions and took action against them.
Well done. Far fewer people injured this time!"
Here he turned toward the liquid golem. Again his wand swayed,
sending lollipops their way.
"And treats for Mr. Horn, Ms. Hibiya, and Ms. McFarlane. Bravely
charging into battle against the liquid golem, leading directly to its defeat.
Mr. Horn's unraveling of the remote function is especially impressive. The
fruits of your bountiful combat experience, I gather?"
A gleam of curiosity appeared behind those glasses, and Oliver had to
fight to keep himself from looking perturbed. At length, the old man's eyes
turned to the boy in Oliver's arms. He waved his wand once more, and over
a dozen lollies flew into the air, a ribbon tying them together. The sugary
mass swooped toward Pete.
"But above all, Mr. Reston—your efforts deserve an entire bouquet of
goodies."
"…Oh…"
The bespectacled boy caught the candy bundle, clearly stunned.
"First, you knew the types of magical metals that could be used in a
liquid golem and could distinguish between them," Enrico said, moving
closer. "That was genuinely astonishing! That isn't knowledge you can
obtain without systematically reading your way through tomes upon tomes
of treatises. Goodness knows how much time you've spent in the library the
past year.
"On top of that, you had both the observational and analytical skills to
determine the magic trap's construction. The trap within the liquid golem
was far more difficult than the others. The fact that you were able to disarm
it at all is proof of your diligence."
By this point, Enrico was right in front of him. Oliver's arms tightened,
clearly worried, but the old man never even looked at him. He leaned in
close to Pete, their glasses almost touching, the mad old man's eyes
gleaming.
"Excellent work. You have potential."
" !"
A shudder ran down Pete's spine—but mingled with it was a rush of joy.
This horrifying warlock was praising him. He'd said he had potential—
Pete, whose nonmagical background had left him dismissed by all and
sundry.
"Tell me—would you be interested in visiting my laboratory?"
Propelled by forces he could not resist, Pete nodded. Oliver knew he had
no right to stop him, but his grip about the bespectacled boy's slender frame
tightened. Feeling a wave of panic, Oliver had a thought…
I've gotta take this madman down. As soon as I can, before he destroys
my friend.
"…All three of them have improved tremendously," Chela said, teacup in
one hand. She, Oliver, and Nanao were in the dining hall for lunch, having
just finished one of their greatest classroom trials yet. Katie, Guy, and Pete
were all elsewhere, studying or training. As they often were, lately.
"…Yes," Oliver said. "They always had the appetite, but lately they've
learned to act despite the dangers present. I find that hard to applaud
without reservation, but…let's just say, they're gaining the mental fortitude
of a mage."
He took a bite of his meat pie.
"A year at Kimberly makes all the difference," Chela agreed, nodding.
"Compare anyone from our year with the new students and you can tell at
once. See those kids over there? That's us, a year ago."
She pointed, and Oliver looked. Through the crowded lunchroom, he
saw several faces he recognized, walking nervously together. One girl
towered over the others—Rita Appleton.
"Teresa!" she yelled. "Teresa, where'd you go?"
"Aw, forget her! She doesn't know the meaning of the word coordinate."
"B-but she actually ate with us for once! That's progress, right?"
Dean and Peter were behind her. The name they were calling was all
Oliver needed to figure things out. He'd told her to eat lunch with other
students, but perhaps he should've insisted she not vanish instantly when
they were done. Suppressing a sigh, he voiced what Chela was thinking.
"Yep… They look like newborn deer."
Trying not to laugh, Chela looked across the table to the Azian girl. "But
in your case, Nanao…it's your surroundings that are changing."
"Hmm?"
Nanao glanced up from her drumstick. Her appetite suggested there was
no cause for concern, but Chela elected to ask anyway.
"You have your first senior league match tomorrow. You'll be sharing
the skies with veteran fliers. Feeling prepared?"
"I am at the ready, my heart soaring with anticipation."
Not a trace of stress or trepidation. Clearly just looking forward to it.
But then she put the chicken down, straightening herself up, and turned
to face Oliver.
"That said, I imagine—nay, I am certain—the battle will be far fiercer
than any before. Falls will be truly spectacular. Oliver, do you have me
covered?"
Oliver put his fork down and turned to face her in kind.
"…Of course I do. I'm your catcher," he replied. "Just…don't forget the
dangers that flight poses. Winning a match is nowhere near as important as
coming back safe and sound. Promise me you'll see to that."
He'd said this to her time and again. Nanao nodded solemnly, and Chela
grinned at the two of them.
"A rider goes nowhere without a skilled catcher," she said. "I'm looking
forward to seeing both of you in action."
And the big day arrived. By ten AM, the stands were filled to the brim, the
skies teeming with masterful broomriders. The student doing commentary
was already yelling.
"It's the moment you've aaaaall been waiting foooor! The day of
reckoning! The sixteenth match of the senior league, the Wild Geese versus
the Blue Swallows! And the senior league debut of Nanao Hibiya, the
shining new star who's rocketed to the top with lightning speed!"
The crowd was already roaring. Clearly, everyone here was certain this
would be a match for the ages. Before it had even begun, their enthusiasm
had already reached a fever pitch.
"And today's commentary is not just by yours truly! We've invited the
broomriding instructor himself, Dustin Hedges! Instructor Hedges, what are
we looking out for today?"
"Ms. Hibiya's flying and how the senior league welcomes her. It oughtta
be a shock to the system."
"So it won't be as easy for her as the juniors?"
"Of course not! The Blue Swallows aren't gonna just let a rookie show
up and have fun."
Hedges leaned back against his chair with a creak. His eyes were on one
corner of the sky, where Nanao and the Wild Geese were having their final
pre-match meeting.
"…They've got Instructor Hedges in?" muttered a male student—the Wild
Geese team captain. "Now we really can't screw up."
Every player had their instructions, and they were waiting for the match
to begin. There, Nanao raised a hand.
"Pardon the repeated confirmations, but…am I really just to fly like
usual?"
"That's right," the captain answered, grinning. "Your first task is to fly
how you want to and get a taste of the senior leagues. We can add in
strategies afterward."
He glanced over at their opponents.
"Though they'll have something to say about that."
"Oh, they're putting the rookie in!"
"Well, Ashbury? How do we butter her up?"
The veteran players were clearly enjoying this. But the Blue Swallows'
ace player—Diana Ashbury—kept her tone curt.
"You handle her in the opening act. Just don't drop her."
"Sure…and after that?"
Ashbury reached for the club on her hip, running her fingers down it.
"I'll put her in a tailspin. She's gonna crash so hard it'll be a month
before she can look at a broom again."
Her teammates whistled.
As the crowd waited impatiently—a fanfare rang out.
"—And they're off!"
"Show 'em, Nanao!"
Katie, Guy, Pete, and Chela were all in the stands, cheering as loud as
the other team's supporters.
In the sky above, three shadows were closing in on Nanao.
"Oof, already three players marking her! Rude!"
"…Not so much marking as…"
"A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Hibiya."
"Welcome to the senior leagues! It's an honor to have you here."
"We've even got a welcome gift for you. Hope you like it."
"—Hrm."
Three voices behind her. Already outnumbered, but Nanao was not one
to let that bother her. She pulled on the broom's head, rapidly ascending—
and kept going, tracing a circle that placed her behind her foes.
"Ooh, nice loop the loop."
"Glad you've got the guts to get behind us instead of running away."
"Well worth leaving space above you!"
All three Swallows were grinning. A second later, their broom pitch
leaned back into a rapid ascent, gaining height but losing speed, then flitting
through the air like feathers on the wind.
" Mm?!"
Trying to follow would risk losing control, so she maintained speed,
shooting underneath them, but—
They all used inertia to right themselves and were on her tail yet again.
Once more, they jeered at her back.
"Surprised? That's called a feather fall."
"Speed alone won't help you survive up here. You've gotta learn to
stall."
They'd intentionally used the stall of the up pitch to swap positions.
She'd never seen a maneuver like that in the juniors and was genuinely
impressed. Sacrificing the stability of speed midflight could easily leave
you dangerously exposed. But these riders all had the raw skill to keep it
under control.
And the pressure they were putting on her made her fly faster. They
clearly had the upper hand when it came to jockeying for position, so before
they took initiative, she was better off gaining distance and coming at them
head-on. But of course—they knew what she was doing.
"Already pulling away? Decisive!"
"I can't keep up with that boost. That broom's famous for a reason."
"Still, that leaves her just fast."
They nodded at one another and banked left. Nanao had headed into a
turn at the far end of the arena, and their tighter turn left them coming in
right on her tail again.
"They caught her! Those three Blue Swallows won't let Hibiya shake 'em!"
"They anticipated her move. Hibiya's maneuvers are still a tad too
obvious."
Hedges was watching the dogfight above. For all her talents, the first
wall Nanao Hibiya was facing was exactly what he'd expected—and what
every rookie struggled with.
"In the boundless open sky, she might win, but in this narrow field,
you've always gotta turn. And other players can read the timing and
trajectory of that. Experience will make her better at feints and tricks, but so
far, she's outshone her competition so hard she never needed any of that.
The downside to her talent."
"She was too good to ever need strategy…! What irony! Hibiya can't
seem to shake the veterans' mark!"
There was sweat on the student commentator's hands.
"That's not a mark." Hedges snorted. "They're just saying hello. A nice
way of telling the rookie exactly where she is now."
Meanwhile, Nanao's friends were watching, mouths parched. They'd never
seen her pursued so doggedly, unable to turn the tables.
"Damn, she can't get away!" said Guy. "And she's so much faster!"
"They're more experienced. They know exactly what she's going to do,"
Chela explained.
"Three-on-one's too much! Why aren't her teammates helping?!" Katie
asked, looking around for the other Wild Geese. But they clearly had no
intention of stepping in.
"…They're riding her hard. You sure we shouldn't do anything, Captain?"
In fact, the same thought had crossed her teammates' minds. They
weren't usually prone to letting their comrades suffer the squeeze. But this
time alone the captain shook it off.
"It's what we expected. No need to help. Plus, I don't think she'll spend
all day reeling from surprise."
He flashed a mischievous grin, then jerked his chin at the Azian flier.
"Don't worry… They'll soon learn just how dangerous their prey is."
Dogfights weren't only about the chase. Each time they drew close, three
clubs swung at her, and Nanao was forced to fend them off no matter how
awkward her position.
"Hard to avoid a hit from your blind spot, isn't it? Especially on your off
hand!"
"Here's a tip: If you're right-handed, best to make your turns clockwise.
That way, if you get cut off, they're on your dominant side."
The Blue Swallows were alternating attacks with advice. Which was, of
course, partially manipulative. Yet, at the same time, they hadn't seen any
results.
"…She really doesn't crumble, huh? No matter how many times we
swing…"
"Her speed advantage makes it hard to land a finisher. I'm gonna take a
run from the front."
"Oh, already going for it? You know if you drop her too easy, Ashbury's
gonna lose her shit."
"I don't give a damn what she thinks. Plus, if we keep three on the
samurai all day, it'll cost us the victory."
One fed-up flier broke off pursuit, gaining distance. As Nanao exited her
turn at the far side of the course, she was right in front of her.
"…Mm!"
"Sorry, rookie."
"It's been fun, but your lesson's over."
The two opponents on her tail were still jeering, making no bones about
this being a pincer attack. They were winding up their rookie hazing with a
takedown. The moment Nanao took the hit from ahead, with the loss of
momentum or stall that caused, both Swallows would hit her from behind.
A classic formation for polishing off an outnumbered foe. But…
"—Hmph."
"…Huh?"
As their clubs clashed—it was the Swallow who lost her balance. Seeing
their teammate reel and lose altitude, and their chance at a follow-up hit
evaporate, the rear party looked surprised.
"Yo?!"
"Wh-what the heck are you doing?!"
"S-sorry…! …Huh? What…what was that?"
The Swallow was baffled though still flying—but until she recovered
altitude and speed, her teammates were on their own. They looked at each
other.
"I don't like it. Match me on this turn and let's make sure she goes
down."
"Two at once on a rookie? Even here, that's—"
"Just do it! We let her get away, Ashbury really will kill us."
Now they were the ones stressing this. The Azian girl might be talented,
but she was a second-year, fresh out of the juniors—they couldn't let her
win.
Nanao hit the far end and went into her umpteenth turn. They'd both
read her course and came at her from above and below. Even if she dodged
one hit, the other would get her. A polished combo showing their years of
training.
"—Down you go, rookie!"
He was sure he had her. The player above swung his club back, aiming
for her head; the player below was going for the body blow. But just before
they committed—Nanao's broom jumped forward.
"Huh—?"
"Wha—?!"
The Azian girl's unexpected acceleration threw off their timing. The
player above failed to take a swing at all, and the one below clashed with
her a moment earlier than he'd expected. First she was on him, then—
"Gah—!"
His adjustment came too late. Nanao's club hit him square in the chest,
and he was off his broom, plummeting headfirst toward the ground.
"Ohhhhhhh! He's going doooown! Hibiya broke out of the three-man mark
head-on!"
"They rushed to finish her and got the timing wrong," Hedges grumbled.
"Come on! You should have known she wasn't at top speed yet. That's what
you get for underestimating a rookie."
"Instructor Hedges, can you tell us what Hibiya just did?"
"You saw it yourself! She's better with a club than that downed idiot.
That's all."
There was a small smile on his face. He might not realize it, but that
look spoke volumes.
This was what a true star brought to the game.
"To think I'd be employing Hibiya-style mounted swordplay in the sky,"
Nanao muttered. She could feel that hit in both hands and knew it was true.
She looked around for her next opponent—and at last, the Wild Geese
captain let her teammates join her.
"Nice work, Nanao. You returned that greeting properly."
"Indeed!" Nanao replied, grinning happily. "The senior league does not
disappoint. Not a warrior to be trifled with."
"I think you pulled the rug out from under them," her captain said with a
chuckle. "Try to drop a rookie, get dropped instead."
He glanced toward the Blue Swallows, and their entire atmosphere had
changed. Their formation was shifting, radiating caution. That one drop had
completely changed their opinion of Nanao. Thoroughly pleased with this,
the captain turned toward her.
"Keep it up," he said. "Take on anyone you like. But just know that
they'll be taking you seriously now."
"I wouldn't want it any other way."
With a nod, Nanao took off like a shot. It was her turn to attack.
"Wow, wow, wowww!" Katie yelled. "Nanao's still in this! She took down
a senior league player!"
Nanao's daring escape had left the curly-haired girl waving both arms
wildly. Chela was just as elated but at least trying to maintain a semblance
of cool.
"Swinging a weapon while riding something is not a technique so easily
mastered. I assume she's applying skills learned on horseback—yet another
product of her homeland. That experience gives her the edge with the club."
"And it works here in the senior league, too! Let's see how many others
she takes out!"
Guy was feeling pretty optimistic, but Chela shook her head.
"It won't be that easy," she said. "She took advantage of her opponent's
error—but now that they know her skills aren't rookie level, they'll come at
her in kind. This is where her real battle begins."
Her eyes sought out the opponent's biggest threat: a witch so terrifying
she'd downed three Geese while Nanao had managed only one Swallow.
"Remember—the Swallows have an ace of their own."
"…S-sorry, Ashbury," the male Swallow said, regrouping with his team. An
apology was all he could offer. They'd gone after a rookie with three on
their side, and they not only failed to drop her—they'd lost a teammate.
"Fall and you're dead. Start over from scratch. That's what I'd usually
say, but…"
Ashbury never minced words, but for once, she was actually smiling.
Her attention was clearly on something other than her teammates' failures.
"She's not bad at all. Hey, losers, focus on the match. I'm gonna go play
with her."
With that, Ashbury shot off across the sky. Total grandstanding, ignoring
all strategies—but no one complained. That's how the Blue Swallows' ace
operated.
In seconds, she was at her target's side, flying neck and neck.
"How's your day going, Ms. Hibiya?"
"Milady Ashbury."
"Nice job waking up our dumb asses. Figured I should thank you in
person."
She raised her club. She was on the right; Nanao, the left. Since both
were right-handed, this formation gave Nanao the ostensible advantage in
combat.
"I'll let you have the dominant side. And don't worry, my team won't
interfere."
"A joust, then?" Nanao said, delighted. "I'll gladly take that offer!"
And their aerial clash began.
"Hibiya accepts the challenge! This is gonna be a doozy! The rookie hope
versus the school's top player, one-on-one!"
"Not a shock, given their personalities. This is a team sport, people!"
Hedges shook his head. Then he sighed, cutting off his amplification spell.
"Shame, though. I'd have liked to see Ms. Hibiya fly a little longer."
Only the student commentator next to him heard. He quickly cut his own
spell.
"Instructor, you mean—"
"Their talents might be even. But experience in the sport? And sheer…
specialization?"
There was clearly no doubt in his mind. He'd been watching the
Swallows' ace for years now. There was no disputing what was to come.
"Get her on a broom and she's faster and stronger than anyone. That's
what Diana Ashbury was born to do, how this mage has lived her entire
life…as Ms. Hibiya is about to learn."
"Hahhhhhh—!"
With a roar, Nanao put her back into a swing. They slammed together
like their entire bodies were blades, knocking each other back, hearing their
very bones scream.
"Very good!" Ashbury cried, exultant. "Never seen a swing like that!
Don't hold back! Show me all you got!"
Not all her land-bound moves applied in the air, but Nanao's flurry was
nonstop. And Ashbury was not only blocking, she was deflecting every
strike—an astonishing feat all on its own. Since the first clash of clubs,
she'd just been letting Nanao spar with her.
"Didn't think you'd be this good! It'd be a shame to drop you in a side
fight."
Ashbury parried a blow and sped up, upping her pitch until she was
rocketing skyward. Nanao followed, climbing higher and higher. The Blue
Swallows' ace called over her shoulder.
"Follow me. Your efforts deserve a reward—I'm gonna show you the
magic."
An invitation to still higher skies. A hundred yards, five hundred, a
thousand, and still they climbed. Leaving the crowds and their teammates
far behind. Ashbury didn't seem to care. They burst through the clouds,
bound for what lay beyond.
"...Ngh...!"
As they crossed the four-thousand-yard mark, Nanao sensed something
awry. Her broom was getting hard to control. The higher they went, the
bumpier her flight, and the more mana it took to combat that and maintain
speed.
With good reason—they higher they got, the less air there was, and the
fewer magical particles in it. With the brooms drawing no power from the
air, the demands on the rider's reserves grew that much steeper.
"…Huff…!"
A trail of white breath streamed from Nanao's lips. The temperature was
long since below freezing, and they were at half the surface atmosphere.
Even for a mage, this was a harsh environment. If she climbed any farther,
her life would be in danger. Her instincts were warning her to turn back
now.
But she wasn't stopping. As long as her opponent was still out ahead of
her, Nanao wasn't about to turn back. This wasn't just stubbornness on her
part—if she gave up and turned back, Ashbury would turn and strike, and a
blow to the back while headed straight down was not good news.
But if they kept flying, it became a test of endurance. Her foe was
struggling just as much with the altitude. Not even the most hardened
broomrider could ascend forever; once she reached her peak, she'd have to
turn. And Ashbury should, in theory, hit that a moment before Nanao.
This was her one shot at winning this. Read Ashbury's trajectory and cut
her off, landing a blow from the side. Given how tiring this climb had been,
odds were high a blow like that would connect.
" Huff "
But Ashbury knew that's what Nanao had planned. And that's why—she
did something Nanao could never have predicted.
"Go on," she said.
And her feet left the stirrups. They were over eight thousand yards in the
air. A gulf opened between them and the earth below, at heights even birds
dared not fly.
But Ashbury let go of her broom.
" ?!"
Her opponent above split in two. That made no sense, and Nanao
boggled at it.
Flung free into the air, the inertia of Ashbury's upward trajectory gave
the witch a few seconds before she began to fall, and she used those to flip
herself. She was now looking straight down at Nanao—and their eyes met.
Meanwhile, her broom was still rocketing higher. It took several seconds
for it to burn through the last of the mana Ashbury had fed it.
Unencumbered, without her weight slowing it down, the broom flew even
faster. And at the end of that burst of speed, it traced an arc across the sky
and came back—reaching Ashbury's hands just as she finally began to fall.
"That's the Ashbury magic, Nanao Hibiya."
The broom slipped between her thighs, and her feet caught the stirrups.
The broom and the rider joined seamlessly once more—and already at full
speed. She'd reversed direction far faster than a conventional turn would
ever allow, leaving the witch primed to take a run at her opponent. Nanao
was at a massive disadvantage, both on speed and positioning.
This was the Ashbury Turn. In the history of broomsports, no one had
ever defeated it.
"Down you go."
The two shadows crossed, and the witch landed a final blow. Awestruck,
Nanao swung her own club—
—and a long moment later, the audience learned the outcome.
"Ah—!" Katie clapped her hand over her mouth.
"Nanao!" Chela called her friend's name.
Guy and Pete could not speak at all.
A girl, falling through the curtains of the clouds from far above. For an
agonizingly long time, all they could do was watch.
"...Mm...?"
The cold air rushing past gave way as something softly scooped her up.
A gentle warmth, enough to wake her—and she saw a boy's face peering
into hers.
"…Oliver…"
His name escaped her lips. He smiled.
"…Still with us, I see. Any pain? Headaches? Nausea?"
She checked herself over and shook her head. Sensations were returning
to her limbs, and realizing that, he set her on the ground. She was steady
now.
"Time you left the field, then. You lost this one, Nanao."
He put a hand on her shoulder. There was a long silence. The Azian girl
looked up at the battlefield above and nodded.
"…A magnificent adversary. She left no latitude for rancor."
"Awww, Hibiya's down! Her first-ever loss! Even our most promising
rookie can't handle the magic! The catcher Mr. Horn caught her safely and
is escorting her out of the pitch," said the commentator. "Diana Ashbury
remains a terror! The Ashbury Turn prevails! Is there no one who can
defeat it?!"
"Don't sell it too hard. Sure, it's amazing, but the audience can't see it,"
Hedges grumbled.
Once he saw Ashbury finally break through the clouds herself, he
snorted.
"It's her way of showing respect. She'd have won in a normal fight, but
she made a point of taking her opponent out with the turn. That's how much
Ms. Hibiya's flying impressed her… And I'd call that a pretty promising
senior league debut."
"Entirely agree! There's still lots more action to come, superfans! Let's
give Ms. Hibiya a big round of applause! We know she'll turn this loss into
inspiration and come back even stronger than before!"
While Nanao and Ashbury hogged the limelight, the overall match was
pretty even; ultimately, the Blue Swallows emerged with a one-point
victory.
"Aw, so close."
"Dammit! We just needed one more!"
The Wild Geese lamented their loss on the way to the team room.
As they entered, Nanao bowed her head to them.
"I was of no use in the back half. My apologies."
"? What are you talking about? You took down a Swallow."
"And dueled Ashbury on your senior league debut. That was literally
insane."
Her humility was met with praise. She seemed surprised, so the captain
came over.
"This isn't a war. Winning matches definitely matters, but the real goal
is to show the audience a good time."
"Captain?"
"And in that sense, you delivered in spades. Don't get discouraged,
Nanao. Losing to the Ashbury Turn is considered an honor among
broomriders."
He gave her a grin and wink. Oliver had been at her side this whole
time, clearly waiting for something like this.
"…She's a powerful foe, but the match itself was winnable," Oliver
said. "Let's put Nanao in a proper formation next time. And I've got some
ideas about strategy—"
"Oh, Horn's all fired up!"
"His wife got dropped! That'd get anyone ticked off."
"I hear that catch was extra gentle."
"Well, yeah, you gotta be. It was his wife falling!"
"…Um, could we please take this a bit more seriously?" Oliver was not
good at being teased.
The captain bumped him on the shoulder and turned back to the team.
They might have lost the match, but his duties were not yet done.
"Horn's right. Time for a postmortem. Nanao's got a feel for the senior
league now, so next time, we're gonna want her working as a fully fledged
member of this team," the captain said. "Looking at the match as a whole, I
think we're a bit too eager on the offensive…"
"...Urp..."
"...Eek..."
Meanwhile, in the Swallows' room, a boy and girl were standing bolt
upright, afraid to sit, shaking like prisoners awaiting execution.
"…? Why are they cowering?"
"Waiting for Ashbury's lashing. Hibiya nearly downed one and did
down the other."
"Ah."
This earned them looks of immense pity. But a moment later, a new
teammate came in and spared them further terror.
"Relax, you two. Ashbury already left."
" Huh?"
"She did…?"
"Skipped the postmortem, didn't even change, just flew outta Dodge
with a grin on her face. She must have really enjoyed going against that
rookie. Looked like she'd totally forgotten your screwup."
The teammate shrugged, and the two doomed players collapsed onto the
bench behind them.
"…We're saved…!"
"Thank you, Hibiya… Thank you…!"
"Don't thank our enemies! I mean, I get it, but…"
The whole team nodded. Win or lose, good or bad, they were always at
the mercy of their ace's mood. That was how the Blue Swallows did things.
"Nanao, Oliver, there you are! Great match!"
"So close! If they'd downed one more, it would've gone to overtime!"
Once the meeting was over, Oliver and Nanao found their friends
waiting outside. The Azian girl smiled.
"A powerful foe, and my training proved inadequate. I shall hone myself
so that I might prevail next time."
"That's the spirit. Your potential is limitless, Nanao," Chela said, putting
her arm on the girl's shoulders.
"If you're joining us, mind going ahead to the cafeteria and grabbing a
table?" Oliver asked. "We'll catch up as soon as we've changed."
"Sounds good," Pete said. "Make it quick!"
He headed out, and the other three followed.
As she watched them go, Nanao said, "They're all too kind. Here I am,
fresh from a loss."
Her tone dropped as she spoke. Oliver stood silently by as she hung her
head, fists clenched tight.
"An abject defeat. I never stood a chance…"
He'd never seen her regret anything to this extent, not since they first
met. Oliver stepped around in front of her and put his hands on her
shoulders. He'd already prepared what to say in this situation long before.
"What matters isn't winning or losing. What matters is that you're safe
and sound, Nanao."
This was how he really felt. Not just as her catcher but as her friend.
"You didn't do any crazy flying, and you fell right toward me. You
emerged without any serious injuries. In my book, that's full marks."
" "
Nanao spoke not a word but simply looked up at him. As they stood
alone in the hall, there was a long silence. And then her lips parted.
"Then…"
"?"
"I think full marks deserve a reward, Oliver."
She spoke in earnest. Aware of that, he thought hard, then cleared his
throat, mind made up—and put his arms around her.
The lingering Perfume was long since gone. But still his pulse
quickened, and he was forced to control himself.
"…Is that enough?" he asked.
"…Heh-heh-heh."
With a purr of a laugh, Nanao pulled him close. The comfort of each
other's heat made it hard to let go.
"...A touch longer."
"......"
And before he knew it, he'd blown his chance to end the embrace. They
stood silently in each other's arms for a good ten minutes.
Dinner was a cheery one, buoyed by talk of the day's match. By the time
they headed back to the dorms, it was late. Pete had fallen asleep over a
book, and Oliver carried him to bed, pulling the covers over him.
"…Good night, Pete," he said, softly brushing the boy's head.
Certain his friend was asleep, he left the room, then the dorm, and
headed into the darkened school building.
By this hour, encroachment left the line between labyrinth and school
ill-defined. He quickly chose an entrance and plunged into the first layer.
The darkness lurking in these halls made it impossible to stay calm.
"I'm too late—I should hurry."
He checked his watch and picked up his pace. He could feel the mask in
his pocket. He'd meant to don it once he met with his compatriots, but
given the risk of being seen before he reached them, perhaps he ought to put
it on now.
"…Here should do."
He found a secluded corner and reached into his pocket. As his fingers
closed around the mask…
"...Mm? Oliver...?"
A voice from behind. His heart leaped out of his chest, and he spun
around. Is that—? But no; it was a tall boy, in a sleeping bag, inside what
appeared to be a basic barrier.
"Guy?! What are you—?!"
"Oh…it is you, Oliver," Guy replied sleepily. "Kevin's suggestion. Good
way to get used to labyrinth camping… Hey…did you just hide
something?"
Guy was rubbing his eyes but had spotted Oliver's hasty motion. To
cover, he quickly switched the mask for something else, pulling out a pack
of cookies.
"…Just nibbling on a little provisions. Want one?"
"Oh…nah, I'm good… Too…sleepy…"
Guy drifted off again, but something about the way he rolled over
bothered Oliver, and he knelt down next to his friend.
"Wait, Guy, lemme see your back."
"Mm…?"
Guy looked up, bleary-eyed; Oliver forcefully peeled the sleeping bag
off him, then pulled off his shirt. His body was covered in fresh cuts and
scratches.
"…What are these?!" Oliver gasped. "You just…smeared ointment on
them? No healing spells?!"
"Ah…yeah, that's the thing. I can't use healing spells yet. And with my
skills as they are, I'm not getting around the second layer uninjured."
"Then don't go solo! Stay still; I'll heal you up!"
Oliver pulled out his wand, shaking his head.
"Seriously, both you and Pete… And Katie was always like this, too.
You've got all the nerves in the world, but this is clearly going too far.
Nothing's even happened yet—"
"But once anything does, it's too late. You gotta train yourself now, or
you'll be helpless when shit goes down."
Guy had his back to Oliver, letting the healing magic work. His voice
was grim.
"Getting down to the second layer made that real clear to me. I know
how much danger you were all in and how crazy it is you guys came back
safe…not to mention just how weak I am."
"......"
"I can't catch up to you sitting on my heels. So lemme go too far. Long
as it doesn't kill me, right? And next time…"
He locked an arm around Oliver's head. As he pulled his friend close,
Guy's voice grew even more intense.
"Next time, I ain't letting you go alone."
This was clearly Guy's main motivation. The arm around his neck made
Oliver painfully aware of that, and he smiled.
"…You're getting pretty ripe, Guy."
"Aw, shut up. It's a guy thing. Can it."
"…True, I've never been one to mind a little sweat myself."
He nodded and gently freed himself, standing up.
"Sorry I woke you," Oliver apologized. "Still, if you're gonna camp
here, put the alarm line farther out. And don't be late for class."
"You got it. Redrawing it's a real pain, though…"
But the boy started fixing the magic circle.
Oliver left, mad at himself for failing to notice Guy lying there.
Get it together. A mistake like that could cost you.
He walked for a good length of time, finally reaching a room off the
passage—the prearranged meeting spot. His comrades were all assembled.
"Oh, there you are, Your Majesty."
The group of six included Gwyn, Shannon, Teresa—and the plainspoken
seventh-year girl who'd been at the last meeting. She gave him a look of
appraisal.
"Not in the best mood there, huh? You gonna be okay? We're in for a
long night, you know. Could be rough on a second-year."
A blunt question, equal parts concern and condescension. He knew that
but merely shook his head, not arguing. He thought it was only fair that the
older students would feel that way. And the best way to change their minds
was to show what he could do.
"Noll…," Shannon said. Hers was all concern. But he couldn't afford to
let her indulge him. He wasn't her brother here; he was her lord. Even if he
still had to remind himself of that.
Certain the coast was clear, he pulled out the mask and put it on. Then
he took his place at the head of the group, speaking over his shoulder.
"Come. Let's scout the field of battle."
He set out, and his comrades followed. They melted into the darkness of
the labyrinth. No one here showed any hesitation—not even if in the not too
distant future, this darkness might consume them.