With the match underway, Kirin unsheathed the Fudaraku. A gush of purple electricity shot out, scorching the air around her.
As she pulled the blade out, it resisted like a giant dragon raging in her hands. Kirin clenched her teeth and held it in check—otherwise, the weapon might have gone on a rampage at the slightest opportunity.
After all, the Fudaraku was an Orga Lux in the shape of a Japanese sword, whose ability was to store energy while the blade remained sheathed in its scabbard. And the more energy the weapon had stored in it, the more difficult it was to control. A month’s worth of energy was said to bestow a level of power similar to any of the Four Colored Runeswords. Back when she had fought Percival Gardner during the Golden Noontide, she had defeated the Holy Grail with four months’ worth of accumulated energy.
Right now, the Fudaraku had a full year of energy stored inside it.
And Kirin was strong enough now to control it.
“Haaaaaaaaaah!”
She drew her sword with a heated cry as a gust of wind swept across the stage.
“Hah… Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Wonderful! What majesty! Such fierce spirit! I can’t hold back any longer! Let’s go!”
Xinglou’s cheeks were red with excitement. She cracked her knuckles and—
…! She’s gone?! Kirin wondered in a panic. No, she’s behind me!
There was no way that the Ban’yuu Tenra, as capable as she was, could have moved faster than Kirin’s clairvoyant eyes could discern—which meant that she must have used some teleportation ability.
Kirin leaped forward, twisting her body in midair, and unleashed the Fudaraku in a blinding flash.
“Oh-ho! So you can respond to my shukuchi techniques on the first try?!”
In an instant, Xinglou appeared behind Kirin, attacking with a powerful kick and quickly countering when she lashed out with her Orga Lux to meet it. But Xinglou still managed to dodge the strike in an unbelievable display of martial arts.
Xinglou jumped into close range, unleashing a palm strike with her right hand, which Kirin caught with the Fudaraku. While not on the level of the Ser Veresta, the Fudaraku should have had more than enough stored energy to cut through practically anything. A direct hit on one’s bare hands should have caused injury, yet Xinglou brushed the blade aside with a simple flick of her wrist, then delivered a fresh strike with her left hand.
“Huh?!”
Kirin circled around to the right and attacked with a downward slash while falling back a half step—but it wasn’t enough. She sliced clean through the sleeve of her opponent’s Jie Long uniform, but at the same time, Xinglou’s elbow punch landed square in her gut.
“…!”
“Ngh!”
Kirin was thrown backward by the force of the strike as her next slash made a shallow cut into Xinglou’s upper arm.
And then—
Spitting out bloody phlegm, Kirin unleashed another strike.
“Hmm!”
The slash, unleashed with her full strength, bisected the stage in a straight line, and while Xinglou ducked low to dodge it, it still sent a tuft of her hair fluttering like the wings of a butterfly as it landed softly on the ground.
“…Impressive. With swordsmanship like that, you’re truly unsurpassed. In that case…”
The space around Xinglou distorted, three vajras emerging from the void—Dokkosho, Sankosho, and Gokosho.
“Sage tools, left behind by the first Ban’yuu Tenra. Now then, let’s go.”
The three vajras floated around Xinglou like satellites—until they were suddenly launched at her.
The ground beneath Kirin’s feet was blown away as the first vajra sailed toward her like a missile, followed quickly by the second and third.
They did indeed possess frightening destructive power, but Kirin found them easier to respond to than when Xinglou had attacked at short range a moment ago.
Most of all—
“Pah!”
Kirin slashed down with the Fudaraku, right for the Dokkosho as it rose up again before her.
“…! What?”
The blow split the vajra clean in two, releasing a cloud of shattered fragments into the air behind her as she came to a halt, then dispatched the Sankosho and the Gokosho the same way.
“…I wouldn’t have expected you to so easily destroy my sage tools. You’re more than I imagined.”
“Physical martial arts might be a different story, but when it comes to a contest between weapons, I won’t lose,” Kirin declared as she braced herself for more.
Xinglou fixed her with a look of genuine contentment. “Oh-ho…! I underestimated you. Then let’s have another taste!”
The grin on Xinglou’s face lost its magnanimity and gained a dangerous edge.
“Rejoice. I didn’t even let Helga Lindwall taste my next technique.”
Once again, the space around Xinglou warped—but this time, she extended her hand into the distortion.
She remained that way for a brief moment, as though rummaging through a drawer. When she pulled it out, she was gripping a stick-shaped black object.
“Is that…?”
“Hmm, not so familiar an item in the world of today, is it? An old Chinese hard whip.”
Like that, Xinglou casually brought it swinging down.
“Its name is Dashenbian.”
“…?!”
The next moment, some huge, invisible force came bearing down on Kirin from above, crushing her under its weight.
“Ughhhhh!”
Though she tried to catch the blow by raising the Fudaraku, it was too heavy, too strong. Unable to deflect it, she was forced to endure, bracing herself with both feet while the weight pushed her back, carving a crater into the ground beneath her.
Until finally—
“Hah… Hah… Hah…!”
Kirin just barely survived the blow. Xinglou, watching from her perch at the edge of the crater, put her hands together in a slow clap.
“Well done. You are deserving of high praise.”
“…No way… That was real…?”
Dashenbian.
Even Kirin knew that name. The God-Striking Whip, a magical weapon known as a baobei, wielded by Jiang Ziya, the protagonist of the old Chinese novel The Investiture of the Gods.
There were countless Orga Luxes in Asterisk bestowed with names tying them to legendary weapons from all eras and cultures, but those were ultimately nothing more than borrowed motifs.
…But this was Xinglou Fan, so just maybe…
“Of course, I’d like to say it’s real…but that isn’t the case. It’s a replica of a relic left in the Immortal Lands long, long ago.”
As she spoke, Xinglou reached into the distortion over her shoulder.
“Now then, the next one… Yes, the Huaxue Shendao should do nicely.”
Appearing from the warped space was a bright red blade dripping with a bloodlike liquid.
“Now, the match has only just begun. Don’t let this be the end, you hear?”
Kirin rose to her feet and caught her breath, then, wiping the sweat from her forehead, looked up at Xinglou. “…Before we started, I didn’t feel like I stood much of a chance against you. I still feel the same way.”
“Oh?” There was unmistakable disappointment in Xinglou’s eyes.
“But I’ll say this… I don’t have any intention of losing.”
“…”
It wasn’t that Kirin was unable to accept defeat with good grace. Yes, Xinglou Fan’s strength was formidable, and Kirin had yet to reach that realm herself—but that didn’t mean she had already been defeated.
Pulling the Hiinamaru from her waist, she repositioned herself, brandishing two blades.
Xinglou’s eyes opened wide, and with her hair bristling wildly, she broke out into a laugh. “Heh-heh-heh…! Well said! That’s the best rebuke I’ve heard in centuries!”
Then, Kirin and Xinglou moved simultaneously, lashing out toward one another.
As their blades clashed amid the fury, the frenzied cheers of the audience filled the stadium.
✦ ✦ ✦
