Games Of The Sky Part 2

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.