Swords swung through the air again and again and again. The two girls dodged and dodged—and when they failed, they got hit, hard. Lunaria, the Scion of Ice, and Earnest, the Scion of Flame, were locked in a fierce sword fight.
The two scions were usually invincible. Their bodies were no longer flesh and blood; instead, they were built up from the very flames and ice crystals they usually wielded. This prevented any normal gear from touching them. Only magic, and magical weapons like their swords, could inflict damage. And since you couldn’t “attack” flames to beat them, Lunaria’s strategy against Earnest involved severing the magical connection between her and the flames or weakening the flames themselves.
The Scions of Ice and Flame were natural enemies. In their hands were Brynhildr and Asmodeus—they normally disappeared while their masters were in scion mode, but this time they had manifested anyway, driven by the wills of their owners to slash and destroy.
Even in the midst of battle, the two continued to evolve. Lunaria, the Scion of Ice, slashed and slashed and slashed. Earnest, the Scion of Flame, took it and took it and took it. She had to focus everything on defending herself. It was impossible to fight against Scion II with Scion I. Earnest could achieve Scion II, but doing that first required generating a massive fireball above her head, consuming her body and increasing the force of her flames. When under continuous attack, without a chance to catch her breath, there was no way she could break it out.
“Whoa… Whoa! Wait a minute! Stop it!”
“No… I will not listen to you! I’m going to defeat you while I still can!”
“Ah… Whoa! I can do it, okay! I can do Scion II! You wanna see it, don’t you?!”
“I won’t lower my guard. I’ll never show you any mercy. I’m throwing everything I have into defeating you. I’ll stake my life on it. He taught me how to truly put my life on the line.”
Lunaria’s attacks never let up. Before, she would have relaxed once she had the upper hand, shifting her attention toward winning in some spectacular or beautiful way. That, or she’d try to make Earnest surrender—which would never happen, of course. That extraneous thinking would lead to an opening her foe could take advantage of. Normally, Earnest would have good reason to keep hanging on. But now, there was no opening to be found. None at all. Lunaria’s fighting style was cold, unflinching, like she had seen hell and viewed this as nothing more than a surgical operation.
“You cold-blooded bastard!”
“Hurry up and go down, you hot-blooded idiot.”
“You first. I’m gonna beat you. If you don’t go down on your own, I’ll put you down myself.”
“Ugh… Over and over and over again! You’re always just plodding down the road right behind me! I hate it! It’s so annoying!”
“I could say the same! You’re always, always, always walking just ahead of me! Going on about being a great genius! If you’re such a genius, why haven’t you left me in the dust? No, you’re just aimlessly waddling around so that any normal person could reach you if they tried hard enough! I’m about to overtake you! You’re too slow!”
“How dare you!”
“What’re you gonna do about it?!”
Earnest went on the counterattack. Slash. Slash. Slash. Slash, slash, slash, slash. She slammed her sword home with all her strength, letting her anger take over as she swung.
“You’re not supposed to use your sword like that! You’re making it cry!”
“Shut up!”
As always, every strike was caught and stopped by Brynhildr. Yet Lunaria’s usual grace was fading, the sound of each sword clash growing louder and louder. Earnest threw yet more strength into the mix, swinging with all her might as she tried to break through. She was swinging her weapon around like a club.
Ka-twiiing!
An even louder noise. The blades clashed head-on.
…Huh?
Earnest was surprised by the strange feeling the impact produced. It had been more than a decade since she came into ownership of Asmodeus at the tender age of six, and she had never sensed anything like this before. Blade broke the swords the academy gave him on a regular basis; any normal legendary sword would be useless after a single training session, and even a normal-class magic sword (the kind that was mass-produced and infused with magic after the fact) would need replacing after a week, no matter how careful he was. A bigger move like Dragon Eater would destroy even one of those in a single shot.
Because of that, Earnest was familiar with this sound. It was usually made by whatever sword Asmodeus was clashing with…but that was Brynhildr right now. They were using two genuine, ancient magic swords of equal rank. Which meant…
“Ngh…?!”
Earnest changed how she used her weapon. Instead of slamming it down with brute force, she copied Lunaria’s soft, supple movements, clashing at the correct angle to retain her position and expend as little force as possible. She was capable of refined swordsmanship like this, but she didn’t resort to it much because it didn’t match her style.
“Come on, Asmodeus! Hold out!”
There was no reply to her shouting. She was starting to run short on firepower. The flames that formed the body of the Scion of Flame I were beginning to die down.
“Huh? Huh? Whoa…!”
Now Earnest had to divide her attention between Lunaria’s swordplay and the changes happening to her own body.
“Asmodeus! Asmodeus! Hey! Answer me! Hey! What’s wrong?!”
This did nothing to boost her flames. They kept shrinking and shrinking without end…and then they finally disappeared. All that remained on the battlefield was a single sword and a single naked woman.
“Asmodeus…! Asmodeus! Answer me! Answer me!” Earnest shouted, holding the sword to her bare chest. “In the name of Earnest Flaming, I command you to answer me! If you don’t… If you don’t, I’d hate it!”
“…”
This got a response, but it was too weak to be understood. She couldn’t tell what it was saying.
“Uh… Yeah, ever since that crack showed up…”
Blade spoke up, and Earnest turned toward him.
“When?! When was that?!”
“When you made that really loud ka-twiiing. When you guys were fighting for the zillionth time and I stopped the fight with my fists.”
“Back then…? Wait, that long ago?! I never noticed!”
“Yeah, uh, sorry. If I knew you hadn’t noticed, I woulda pointed it out, but…”
Blade was apologizing. But Earnest knew. It wasn’t his fault. It was all her. She was this sword’s master, the one always wielding it. How could she have missed it? Or really, this was all happening because she had been reckless. She was relying completely on the magic strength of her sword, brute-forcing her way through every battle.
She could’ve fought the right way if she wanted, but she never did. For a while now, she had been risking her life to study Lunaria’s techniques, fully copying them so she could catch up and defeat her someday. If she’d used what she’d learned, she could have done it. But she hadn’t. She hadn’t done it because it was easier and more fun for her to resort to brute force.
And now she had hurt Asmodeus.
“Earnest.”
A cold blade of ice slowly pressed against her neck. It was Lunaria. She hadn’t undone her transformation, never letting her guard down as she put her blade to Earnest’s jugular. The referee, snapping back to reality, looked like he was deciding whether to stop the fight. Earnest gave him glare that said “do it and I’ll kill you”. It sent him flying out of the arena, corkscrewing through the air. Oh well.
“Earnest Flaming… Take my advice, all right? Throw in the towel.” There was a hint of mercy in Lunaria’s voice. “Surrender, and you can still fix that sword. I know a craftsman who’s gifted at repairing such items. I’m sure he’d accept the job if it came from the Steinberg family. I’d even go with you and beg him. So, please…give up.”
“Lunaria…”
Earnest looked up at her, utter disbelief in her eyes as she beheld her greatest enemy…her rival…her friend.
“…No.”
“Asmodeus?!”
A voice came from the sword. It was weak and pained, but it belonged to Asmodeus.
“My…my master knows no fear…!”
It was clearly audible now. Earnest straightened up.
“No matter what, she never shrinks back. She never gives in…for she has a heart of flame! I have sworn my allegiance to a woman who burns more fiercely and passionately than even I, the divine demon of fire.”
Its thoughts came across loud and clear despite how much pain it was in. It was recognizing Earnest as its master.
“And that woman…is Earnest Flaming!”
“Yeah. You’re right.”
Earnest stood. She readied her sword, unwavering determination in her eyes. She wasn’t backing down. She couldn’t be afraid. She couldn’t transform any longer. She couldn’t become a scion. And so, as a mere mortal… As a woman of fire… As the Empress… She held out her sword.
“Come to me,” she said, as if ordering around a member of the junior class. There was no one left who could stop this fight now, especially now that the referee was sprawled out, unconscious. So Earnest’s fight with the Scion of Ice resumed.
Lunaria’s blows were merciless. Each one packed every bit of her remaining scion power. She was waging a brute force attack of her own—all so she could break her foe. Earnest parried it all with her brilliant swordplay.
Now their styles were completely reversed. It was as if they had switched places. Lunaria usually relied on grace and beauty, but now she was wildly flailing away with Brynhildr. Earnest was blocking it all, demonstrating techniques straight from Lunaria’s playbook. As Earnest shrugged off her opponent’s strikes, she began to move forward. Lunaria responded with all her might, but now she was being pushed back.
A white line was drawn on the ground, indicating the out-of-bounds area. Lunaria didn’t hesitate as she crossed it. This battle would not be decided by the rules but by the will of these two fighters. She wouldn’t allow anything else to determine the winner.
With a clean twiiing, Asmodeus’s blade broke from its hilt. It fell, striking the stone floor and sticking right out from it. The base and hilt remained in Earnest’s hands. She embraced it against her bare chest, hugging it between her ample breasts as if offering a prayer.
“Asmodeus,” she whispered, “thank you.”
A single tear rolled down her cheek.
The referee picked this moment to suddenly jump up from the ground. He was about to shout, “Out of bounds!” but the crowd around him knocked him unconscious once more. Everyone was offering a silent prayer, watching as the sentient sword and loyal servant parted ways with its master. Even Blade the ex-Hero, who had seen the parting of sword and master up close many times before, offered them a few seconds of respectful silence.