“Amagiri Shinmei Style, Hidden Technique—Hornet Fang!”
Ayato twisted around, throwing his blade with one hand. It was a strike of unparalleled precision, aimed not at his opponent but at the activation handle of the Raksha-Nada—yet Madiath deflected it with ease.
“Tch…!”
But Ayato didn’t stop there. Leaning into his momentum, he switched his blade to his left hand and, holding it in an underhand grip, he spun around once more, cleaving to the side with all his strength.
This was the Amagiri Shinmei Style, Intermediate Technique—Ten Thistles.
Madiath raised an eyebrow in mild surprise, but still managed to dodge the attack with a simple turn of his head. The tip of the Ser Veresta passed right in front of him, but he hardly seemed to move at all. He had seen straight through Ayato’s move.
And then, despite his unstable position, he lashed out with the Raksha-Nada.
“Hngh!”
Ayato concentrated his strength into his right leg, desperately tilting his body to evade as the huge sword tore through his uniform.
At first glance, Madiath appeared to be swinging his weapon with an unsteady arm, almost as at the mercy of his own blade—but he quickly shifted trajectory, twisting around and unleashing an upward diagonal strike.
Ayato countered, deflecting his foe’s weapon and instantly following it with a downward slash of his own.
“Amagiri Shinmei Style, Middle Technique—Carved-Out Shell!”
“Whoa…!”
Madiath turned to avoid the blow, launching a kick into Ayato’s abdomen with his left leg.
“Ngh…!”
Though only a kick, it carried extraordinary force.
Unable to brace himself, Ayato was blown back, slamming into a huge, half-collapsed pillar.
“Gah!”
The air was forced out of his lungs, and his vision darkened briefly.
The next moment, shards from the Raksha-Nada tore his way, completely decimating the collapsed pillar. Ayato rolled desperately to safety.
“Haaah… Haaah… Haaah…!”
Catching his breath, he rose back to his feet and readied the Ser Veresta
“Ha-ha-ha!” Madiath laughed. “You’re much like your sister, I see. The Amagiri Shinmei style, was it? What a joke.”
“What…?!” Ayato growled, letting his anger show.
“Oh, don’t misunderstand me,” Madiath said with a feigned shrug of his shoulders. “I acknowledge your strength, Haruka’s, too. And I’m not just making fun of your school of fighting. No, it’s swordsmanship itself that I consider a joke. That goes for the Amagiri Shinmei style, the Toudou style, and even just bringing techniques and sword forms into a fight. What foolishness to think you can reduce a duel to fixed movement patterns.”
He paused there and sighed.
“Contests are about defeating and slaughtering your opponent. That’s all. If they give you an opening, you take it—if they don’t, you manipulate them until they do. It’s simple, really. And free. As far as I’m concerned, your techniques only serve to restrict the range of your actions.”
These were reckless, unreserved comments—but Madiath had the skill and power to back them up.
His attacks weren’t bound by patterns—his formless, serene movements were impossible to predict, and they never dropped a beat. Those two qualities were the essence of martial arts, and he had mastered them.
According to Claudia’s data, Madiath got his start at an illegal entertainment tournament called the Vigridhr, or Infinity Arena. For a full eight years, he had fought there. Surviving hundreds and thousands of life-or-death contests must have honed his innate talent into this abstract, unpredictable style.
In terms of swordsmanship, Kirin was the very top—but when it came to fundamental fighting skill, Madiath surpassed everyone else whom Ayato had ever met.
“Theory is, of course, important. It’s right to want to understand the basics. But I fail to see the point of tying it into forms. It’s like you’re playing a game. Though I suppose that is an appropriate analogy for this ugly spectacle of a city…”
With that, Madiath surged forward, suddenly closing the gap between them.
Despite the heightened state of awareness afforded by his shiki ability, Ayato still found his foe’s unique, unpredictable gait impossible to read.
Just before his opponent’s red blade could decapitate him, Ayato parried it with the Ser Veresta.
But Mathias’s heavy, powerful strike pushed him down, weapon and all.
“Gah…!”
“That’s why I like the Amagiri Shinmei style’s ultimate techniques. They’re not based on forms—you fight based on core principles alone, no?” Madiath grinned as their blades continued to push against each other.
Ayato waited for the right timing and disentangled the two weapons, but Madiath held his stance as he swung the Raksha-Nada yet again.
After another few exchanges, they each fell back, Madiath arrogantly holding out his hand as if to say, Come at me.
He wants me to use my ultimate techniques…? Fine!
Ayato would accept the invitation.
Ayato could respond to his foe’s movements, but Madiath still had an overwhelming advantage. He was superior in practically every metric, so that was only natural. Ayato couldn’t afford to hold back his trump card, his ultimate techniques.
His only concern was that two of his ultimate techniques had already been exposed during the Lindvolus. Of course, these were the final secret teachings of the Amagiri Shinmei style and weren’t easily countered even after seeing them once or twice. Rodolfo Zoppo might have succeeded in blocking his Tsugomori move, but it would be more accurate to say that the Ser Veresta had been parried rather than the technique itself. Besides, it should have been impossible for anyone else to replicate what he had done.
But Ayato’s current opponent was Madiath Mesa. And since he’d practically asked Ayato to use his ultimate techniques, he must have some strategy in mind.
Still, I don’t have time to hesitate…!
He had to settle this before Julis’s match against Orphelia was over.
Ayato closed his eyes, deepening his shiki state to further enhance his perception.
He wouldn’t be able to maintain this for long, but if he was attacked now, he should at least be able to respond appropriately.
He built himself a world of silence, bringing every motion into sharp relief.
And in the midst of it, he began to sense the origin of Madiath’s movement.
“Amagiri Shinmei Style, Ultimate Technique I—Tsugomori.”
Ayato swayed—and countered Madiath’s strike quietly and smoothly, like flowing water.
Or at least he should have.
“What…?!”
But his blow was repelled by a patch of empty air, altering its trajectory.
While Ayato watched in wide-eyed shock, Madiath brought the Raksha-Nada down with a flash of light, piercing through the right side of his body.
“Ngh…!”
Rather than pain, burning heat passed through him—the feeling of raw, warm blood pouring out.
He managed to take a step back in retreat, but dropped helplessly to one knee. Thanks to his quick reflexes, the wound wasn’t fatal, but it was still quite deep.
But more importantly—
“Just now…!”
It wasn’t empty air that had deflected his blade.
Looking closely, he could see fragments of the Raksha-Nada hovering brightly around Madiath. The moment Ayato launched his attack, he had sensed his opponent bringing them together.
In other words—
“Oh? You’re quick on the uptake. As to be expected,” Madiath said with a stroke of his chin. His tone wasn’t sarcastic—it held honest admiration.
“…You used an automatic defense?”
“Precisely. I’m surrounded by floating pieces of the Raksha-Nada. They react to my thoughts and gather together instantly to form a defensive blade.”
Ayato’s shiki technique gave him perfect sensory perception, but ultimately, it indicated only the result of his target’s movements. It couldn’t sense the outcome of thoughts, nor could it prepare him to respond to a blade that formed instantly in midair.
“The Raksha-Nada is mostly known for its ferocity in combat, but when wielded by the right user, it becomes an incredible tool. It can be used for defense, as you just saw, and is capable of a whole plethora of offensive variations. Like this…”
As Madiath swung the Raksha-Nada, the huge blade broke into smaller and smaller pieces, surrounding Ayato in a multilayered dome. It had to be made of more than a hundred fragments.
“…!”
Its deployment was orderly and swift—Ayato couldn’t possibly have evaded it. Even if he had been able to read Madiath’s next moves, he wouldn’t have had much chance of defending himself. If he’d retreated to keep himself from being encircled, the shards would simply have pursued him across the battlefield before finding another way to surround him.
“As you know, the smaller the fragments are, the more difficult they are to control. You need to group them together into masses of a certain size when attacking. If you make them a little bigger still, you can send them in multiple directions, though that restricts more intricate movement.”
Madiath’s words sent a cold sweat down Ayato’s spine.
It wasn’t unusual to find oneself in a siege-like situation.
Many skilled Dantes or Stregas would no doubt be able to carry out similar attacks with their abilities.
But coming from an Orga Lux, the danger was on a whole other level.
When it came to regular attacks, Ayato’s abundant prana could limit the damage to some extent. But that wasn’t the case for Orga Luxes. All the more so if slashing or thrusting attacks were involved.
“So how will you get out of this?”
The next moment, the shards surrounding Ayato lashed out all at once.
The attack came at high-speed and from all directions—even from above—without leaving the slightest opening. What’s more, each strike possessed the full destructive power of an Orga Lux.
Ayato hurried to adjust the range and intensity of his shiki ability, focusing his awareness.
“Amagiri Shinmei Style, Ultimate Technique II—Wazaogi.”
He swung the Ser Veresta in all directions, repelling the clumped shards of the Raksha-Nada.
Of course, no matter how fast he moved, there was no way that he could keep up with this simultaneous attack from all directions.
And yet—
“Wow…!” Madiath exclaimed—even louder than before. “Wonderful! Each shard you deflect blocks another, which in turn blocks yet another…! A superhuman feat!”
This level of half-reflexive defense was possible only when his shiki state was pushed to its absolute limits while employing his Wazaogi technique.
Nonetheless, it was impossible for him to deflect all the projectiles.
He kept standing after the red storm blew through, but his body was covered with countless lacerations and puncture wounds.
He had managed, albeit only barely, to protect his vitals during the onslaught, but he was bleeding from almost every other part of his body.
“Gah…!”
“I see, I see. A great display indeed. I salute you,” Madiath said with a grin as he raised the Raksha-Nada into the air.
Then, just like before, Ayato was again surrounded by fragments of the blade from all sides.
“Though imperfect, my last attack was effective enough. So there’s no need for me to bother trying anything new, is there? Let’s just keep doing the same thing over and over until we’re finished. Good idea, right?” Madiath laughed as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
✦ ✦ ✦
“Now then—how many more can you endure?”
✦ ✦ ✦
