The Ice Breaker
The match unfolded at a breakneck pace.
Both teams had been whittled down to less than half their numbers, and Class A's main offensive threat, Meilin, was unleashing an all-out assault.
Her target: Serne, who was hiding in a corner of the court, grinning like someone poking at a beehive for fun.
But not once had Meilin landed a single attack that could even be called an attack.
"Ack!"
"Kghk!"
The instant a ball flew toward Serne, other Class C students would hurl themselves into its path, shielding her with their own bodies. Judging by the hollow expressions of the students sprawled on the ground after taking the hit, it clearly wasn't voluntary. Serne had manipulated them with her feathers, no doubt about it.
'Ugh, I seriously can't stand her!'
Meilin gritted her teeth. Watching Serne handle fellow Kizen students like chess pieces made her blood boil.
And what irritated her more than anything was—
Swish, swish.
The sight of Serne flaunting the jacket Simon had personally draped around her waist, waving it about like a trophy.
'...I genuinely want to rip her to shreds.'
There were moments when her vision went red and she wanted to bury the woman in flames instead of balls, but she knew that was exactly what Serne wanted, so she had no choice but to endure.
"S-Serne."
Class C had their own headaches with Serne, too.
A boy leading Class C's offense had finally had enough.
"We asked you to stop using Hideo as a shield. He's an essential support."
In response, Serne nudged a ball on the ground toward the boy with the tip of her toe.
"Go attack something."
"......"
This is bad. Serne isn't paying any attention to the match at all.
He'd actually been quietly relieved when he saw her diligently attending Magic Combat class alongside the Class A students, but she was right back to her old self.
'...Damn it. I have to win no matter what with Serne on our team. Can't let those Class A brats get cocky.'
The boy glanced around.
The one Class A student capable of drawing out Serne's interest—Simon Polentia—had, regrettably, not been fielded this round.
Though it wasn't exactly sane of him to be disappointed about his own situation for that reason.
'Try being a leader with a selfish princess to babysit. It's a living hell.'
Class C was already completely under Serne's thumb. The entire class might as well have been her personal faction.
So no one dared breathe a word of complaint about her cavalier attitude. They simply watched her mood and prayed she stayed happy.
And as for getting close to Serne? That was its own impossible challenge.
According to the girls who'd shared meals with her, they sometimes found their memories of eating with Serne had been cleanly erased. Or they'd try to recall a conversation with her and couldn't for the life of them figure out why they'd said what they'd said.
Emotion manipulation.
She was the core of Class C's faction, but not a single person in Class C considered her a true friend.
And she felt the same way. She had no interest in forming genuine bonds with anyone. If someone annoyed her or made her uncomfortable, she'd simply send a feather their way and manipulate them without a second thought.
'...I don't know what happened to her in the past, but she's the type who's twisted from the very root of her being.'
The boy's gaze drifted back.
He caught sight of Simon Polentia's face—Special Admission No. 1 of Class A.
A flicker of jealousy stirred in him.
It stung that the one person Serne treated as an equal wasn't a Class C student who'd been by her side all this time.
"Hey! What are you doing? Move it!"
Brad's grumbling voice snapped the boy back to his senses.
"Ah—yes! Sorry!"
He was a Magic Combat hopeful, and he hurled the ball with all his strength once more.
Dick lowered his stance to receive it, but the ball bounced off his stomach and sailed out of bounds.
"Ugh! You idiot!"
The boy's gaze swung toward the girl shrieking at him.
Come to think of it, Class A had its own Ivory Tower student too. Meilin Villenne, was it?
She was just as individualistic and arrogant as befit her Ivory Tower pedigree, but her whole vibe was different from Serne's.
"You hunt down every bad form except your own, and you can't even catch that?"
"Because every time you land a hit, you have to strike 'the pose'."
"Drop dead!!"
Ahahaha!
Class A's atmosphere was great.
Meilin also bossed people around, acted high and mighty, and loved being the center of attention—yet somehow the Class A students never found her grating. If anything, they treated her warmly.
'Same Ivory Tower background... I'm jealous.'
Just as the boy was thinking this, Meilin picked up a ball and stepped forward.
"Well, either way, I owe my teammate some payback."
Meilin raised the hand clutching the ball and pointed it at Serne.
"How long are you going to hide behind your meat shields? Get out here."
At that, Serne flashed her that infuriating, teasing smile.
"Nope~ Sery's scared of getting hit, you know."
"Grrr! You are SO annoying!"
Meilin sank into a stance, her ball-holding arm stretched out to the side. Everyone in Class C tensed up.
'Her server and support is down.'
'What's she planning to do alone?'
Crack.
The ball in Meilin's hand began to change. Serne's expression, which hadn't shifted once since the match began, finally faltered.
Cr-crack. Crick. Cr-crick.
The ball in Meilin's grip was freezing over. Cold air swirled around her, and several students on the court could be seen rubbing their arms against the chill.
"Hmm."
Serne stepped forward with a fox-like smile.
"Meilin, so you've finally thrown away that useless pride of yours?"
"Shut your mouth."
The ball in her hand was steadily becoming a lump of ice. Her supporting arm trembled, seemingly straining under the weight. A layer of frost spread across the floor beneath it.
'Interesting.'
Serne smiled in satisfaction.
Setting aside her unique ability and looking purely at Jet-Black Elemental Magic, Serne's specialty was fire. Simply put, she was capable of unleashing twenty Dark Flares in a single barrage.
Meilin, on the other hand, was slightly more gifted in ice than fire, but she rarely used it for anything beyond defense.
Purely because of the elemental disadvantage against Serne. Meilin had once declared outright that she'd bend Serne to her will with flames one day.
"Hahh."
A puff of breath escaped Meilin's lips. Then she bent her arm and gripped the ball with both hands.
The surrounding air thickened with tension.
"My goal hasn't changed. I'm going to become stronger than anyone, and I will break you before I graduate from Kizen."
"Yeah, yeah! Good luck~"
"But getting stronger doesn't mean I have to stay fixated on you, of all people."
Her gaze slid sideways—toward Simon.
"Oh my, how admirable~ Then I simply must award you something special."
She looked back and gave a small nod, and the Class C students bowed their heads and withdrew.
"HAAAAH!"
Letting out a battle cry, Meilin flung the frozen ball with everything she had.
Serne leisurely drew a feather from the tip of her index finger, swinging her arm back to throw it at the incoming ball—
"......?"
Suddenly her foot slipped, and the arm poised to throw whipped wildly off course.
Meilin's ice magic had coated the floor in a slick sheet of frost.
'Oh no—?'
The moment Serne began to fall, Meilin's ball smashed into her forearm and went flying.
"WAAAAAH!"
All of Class A erupted in a colossal roar. Meilin too clenched both fists and whooped, cheering at the top of her lungs. Serne, sprawled on the frost-slicked floor, blinked with a dazed expression.
The shock hit Class C even harder.
"S-Serne got hit!"
"Just like that... so anticlimactic..."
Serne scratched the side of her head in a daze, then, catching her classmates' eyes, stuck her tongue out playfully and laughed.
'Ha......'
'Fine, I'll throw the ball and then march straight to hell.'
Serne brushed off her skirt and strolled out of the court without a shred of resentment, while everyone on Class A's side cheered around her.
"Class A's Meilin Villenne is disqualified."
Brad's half-hearted voice rang out.
Meilin's face flushed crimson at the sudden ruling, and she whipped her head around.
"WHAT?! Why?!"
"Did you not memorize the rules? Anything that affects the opposing team is grounds for disqualification. Your ice slick just made their player slip."
"AAAAAGH!"
And so Meilin was knocked out as well. She wailed 'I didn't do it on purpose!' but Simon and Camibarez subdued her and dragged her off the court.
With both aces gone, the remaining 7-to-5 matchup proceeded honestly, players dropping one by one.
Tweet!
Brad blew his whistle.
"Winner: Class A."
Class A claimed victory by a margin of two. The students, morale at an all-time high, bounced up and down celebrating.
Class C, meanwhile, was frostily silent after watching their trusted ace fall.
"Didn't expect the underdogs to win."
"So we just need to take one of the next two rounds, right?"
"Alright, let's go!"
Both sides fielded teams of middling strength for the next round.
Class A sent out their most well-rounded squad, featuring Cindy, Jamie, Camibarez, and others.
And then—
THWACK!
POW!
"WAAAAAAAH!"
An unexpected dark horse had emerged.
"Who the hell is that guy?!"
Class C's Ivan Varshani.
A boxer-turned-Magic Combat hopeful.
Self-proclaimed fastest student in Kizen.
Also the man who'd lost to Meilin in his Duel Evaluation debut. And right now, he was flying all over the court.
"Hup!"
Running Internal Jet-Black Eruption, he was personally blocking every single ball aimed at his teammates.
Since this match hinged on defense, all of Class A's attacks were shut down, which meant Class C got more opportunities to attack—and converted them. The gap in player numbers ballooned in mere moments.
This match was, quite simply, Ivan's stage.
'You watching this, Meilin Villenne?!'
Ivan's gaze fixed on Meilin, who stood outside the court with her arms crossed and a sour look on her face.
'The defeat you gave me built the man I am today!'
Ivan blocked a grand total of five attacks.
In the end, his body reached its limit and he collapsed to the floor, and the motionless Ivan was promptly finished off by Class A's counterattack. Still, he'd achieved more than any single player had a right to, and applause rained down from every direction.
'Hahh, I'm proud of myself. I truly gave it my all.'
Ivan's gaze turned.
As he walked off the court, he happened to catch Meilin and Simon talking.
"You saw that, Meilin!!"
Ivan thrust a hand toward her and shouted.
"I made it into a High Squad off that Duel Evaluation too! Look forward to the rematch!"
She frowned as if to say, who is this guy?
"Why are you talking to me? Do I know you?"
"......!!"
Ivan's face went scarlet.
"I was your first Duel Evaluation opponent!"
"Oh, right? Sorry, I'm bad with names of weak people. Good effort, though."
Meilin waved him off breezily.
Too flustered to even formulate a rebuttal, Ivan stammered for a moment before trudging over to the Class C students. A hero's welcome of praise showered down on him, but Ivan didn't feel much like celebrating.
The momentum had tilted.
Cindy Vivace, unable to use Spirit Transformation, went down meekly, and the other students likewise overreached trying to catch balls and found themselves eliminated.
"Everyone, focus! Don't give up until the very end!"
Honorary class representative Jamie shouted encouragement to her teammates.
Just then, a Class C attack came arcing in from the side, and her eyes darted.
"Watch out, Cami!"
Camibarez—who had been crouched down trembling in both legs, terrified of when a ball might come flying at her—snapped into an awkward defensive stance.
POW!
Out of nowhere, one of the boys darted forward and took the ball in her place, collapsing to the ground.
"Ghk!"
"A-are you okay?!"
Camibarez rushed over, eyes brimming with tears.
"Because of me......"
The spot where the ball had struck him hurt, but the boy felt his heart melt and his happiness meter shoot through the roof. He grinned and gave her a thumbs-up.
"Yup, I'm fine!"
Class C kept hammering Camibarez with attacks, but every time, boys would spring seemingly out of thin air to take the hit or shield her.
When another one dropped with a ball to the face, Camibarez started sobbing.
"Waaah! I'm so sorry!"
The Class C students watched this bizarre spectacle and murmured in bewilderment.
"...What is with her? Is she Class A's Serne?"
"I think she can use mental dark magic!"
"Mental magic? I heard someone call her 'Ursula' earlier."
"But she's kind of cute, though?"
Camibarez scampered over and scooped up a fallen ball.
"I-I will have my revenge!"
She let out a squeaky cry of resolve, and explosive cheers and support erupted from the Class A students outside the court.
Camibarez was a truly rare breed of character at Kizen.
Beyond factions and rivals and all the rest of it, sixteen-year-old Camibarez had somehow become everyone's little sister in Class A.
"Hah!"
She tossed the ball high into the air, dropped to one knee, and curled her hand around her palm like a pistol.
"Sorry about this!"
With a vicious recoil, a crimson bullet shot from her fingertips. It struck the falling ball dead center, and the ball rocketed forward at tremendous speed.
It angled out of bounds—but carried by the sheer force of Camibarez's shot, it curved back and smacked into another student, knocking him flat.
"Ah!"
"That's it!"
"CAMIIIII!"
The loudest roar of the day erupted.
She bowed her head politely to the eliminated opponent, then flashed a sheepish grin at her cheering classmates beyond the court.
"Nice one, Cami!"
Simon shouted too, and her expression melted like spring snow, blooming into a smile as radiant as a flower in full sunlight.
"Simon~ I caught one!"
She hopped up and down with joy, and Simon waved back with a smile of his own.
'Hm?'
Was it his imagination, or had the back of his head suddenly gotten very prickly?
In fact, the murderous glares of countless male students were boring straight into the back of Simon's skull.
"Alright, quickly now. Next team, attack!"
Brad, wearing the expression of a man exhausted by everything in life, barked the match back into motion.
THWACK!
POW!
Camibarez and Jamie fought valiantly, but the game had already slipped too far out of reach. Without any dramatic comeback, Class C sealed the win and took the score.
That brought the overall tally to 1–1.
It all came down to the final round.
"Final round. Everyone who hasn't played, get out here."
At Brad's words, the students who'd been warming up and waiting flooded onto the court.
The decisive final match should have fired everyone up, but the Class C students' faces had frozen stiff.
And no wonder—the presence of the two boys standing at the very front of the court, stretching, was utterly overwhelming.
'Oh, for crying out loud......'
'How are we supposed to beat those two?'
A deeply unusual duo.
Special Admission No. 1, Simon, and Hector of the Moore family, standing on the same court as teammates. For Class A, desperate for a win, it was hardly an encouraging sight.
Then, mid-stretch, the two men's eyes met.
"......"
Hector fixed Simon with a look that could kill a man on sight alone.
"Smooth out that scowl, Hector."
At Simon's mild remark, the veins on Hector's neck instantly bulged.
He stalked straight up to Simon. Simon didn't back away—he tilted his chin up. The other students on the court panicked and scrambled to pull them apart.
"Hey! Hey! You're doing it again!"
"You're on the SAME TEAM today!"
A matchup made in hell.
The Class A students' worries came flooding in, a beat too late.
'Can those two actually pull off any teamwork?'