Fairy Dancer Noktia (1)

Harné's movements were slow. But there was no waste in her power. In contrast, the force her opponent pushed with was futilely squandered. A sword art infused with softness seamlessly woven into restrained motions, without a single gap. It was a type of swordsmanship Skala had never seen before in her life.

At the same time, she had a gut feeling. This isn't something a student-level fighter could pull off.

"How did you do that?!"

Skala finished off the last remaining boy and bounded toward Harné almost like she was bouncing. Her ears and tail stood rigidly upright, unable to hide her surprise and excitement.

"What are you talking about?"

"What else? That counterattack just now. I've never seen swordplay like—"

You just showed off some insane swordsmanship that even I couldn't match. How the hell did you do it? Unable to voice her inner thoughts directly, Skala quickly changed her words.

"...No, for someone like you, that was pretty decent. I'm impressed."

Harné blinked a few times before answering nonchalantly.

"My sword art is so newly created that hardly anyone knows about it. Isn't that why it feels unfamiliar to you?"

"...Is that your excuse?"

Harné let out a small laugh at Skala's furrowed brow.

"Counter-focused sword arts aren't exactly common either. And as you can see, with a body like this."

Harné lightly shook her slender arm. It looked so fragile that it was hard to believe it had just deflected a greatsword moments ago.

"Other styles didn't work for me, so I practiced this one to death. Of course, what I just did doesn't deserve such high praise."

"I see. Still, that was really impressive!"

Darvin clapped in admiration. To a mage who couldn't comprehend Harné's technique, it just registered as "amazing" in general terms.

Of course, Skala was still eyeing Harné suspiciously.

The explanation sounded plausible. It was logically convincing. But it felt like a prepared answer. Her unnaturally calm expression made it even more so.

"Hmph... Fine, whatever."

But pressing further didn't seem like it would reveal anything. Skala grumbled and turned her head.

At that moment, shadows flitted across the upper walls of the maze.

"Huh?"

Anyone could tell it was human movement. Footsteps echoed from running along the walls, and immediately after, three purple lines shot toward them like fishing lines. They wrapped around the eliminated students like snakes...

"Gah?!"

...and the three boys were yanked up to the walls in an instant.

The startled Skala and Darvin looked up at the walls. There stood assistants in uniform attire. They were retrieving the dropouts using fishing-rod-like magic tools. Apparently, the headmaster couldn't teleport everyone individually, so some were handled this way.

"H-ha... That scared me. If we get eliminated, that's what happens to us too...? Huh?"

Darvin, who had dodged the purple lines only to fall flat on his butt, gave an awkward laugh. But that smile didn't last even a moment.

Footsteps. And not from one direction. They came from all sides.

"Whoa, I hear a ton of footsteps! Doesn't sound like just one team!"

"I have ears too, so I know that much. Get ready, quick."

Skala irritably snatched up her bow and quiver. It seemed nearby teams had heard the sounds of their recent battle. As the footsteps grew closer, Harné murmured lowly.

"Hm, I expected two teams, but three?"

No sooner had she spoken than people appeared from three of the four passages leading to the elimination point. One team per passage. A total of nine opponents.

They were suddenly surrounded from three directions.

"S-Skala! Here, take these!"

Darvin reached out, and arrows scattered around levitated into the air. Even the weapons dropped by the eliminated were pulled in and presented before Skala. He finally seemed to grasp his role: supporting the weapon master's rampage.

But defying Darvin's expectant gaze, Skala firmly shook her head.

"Abandon the point for now and fall back. We'll fight from a corner and retake it later."

"Pardon? Is it that dangerous?"

"Hmph. With me here, we'll win. But you two won't last until I clean them up."

Her tone was prickly, but her judgment was textbook. Starting the early game down a teammate was a burden even for Skala. Especially Harné, whose breathing was ragged—she looked in bad shape to anyone watching.

Then Harné turned to face Skala.

"...Do you trust me enough to hold out a bit longer?"

"What?"

"The point's score acceleration has kicked in. If we leave, it resets. So if we can hold, let's hold."

"Hmmm."

A bold proposal that didn't match her fragile appearance. Skala's ears perked up.

Reason screamed to retreat immediately. That was the rational choice. But oddly, her instincts wanted to bet on Harné. She hated to admit it, but she wanted to trust this frail-looking young lady.

"You confident, Harné?"

"Yes, Skala. Trust me."

Skala grinned and nocked an arrow. At the same time, the three teams kicked off the ground in unison, as if on cue.

"They look doable—let's take 'em quick!"

"Let the ones on the point fight among themselves. Target other teams first!"

Battle erupted in an instant. But not all rushed into the point. One team stepped on the outskirts to rack up points, while the other two held back, checking each other.

"Fireball incoming! Dodge!"

"Ayrick, lead! I'll follow!"

Short shouts crossed as a 2-vs-2 skirmish unfolded. But the enemy teams should have sensed something off. Despite the battle sounds from the elimination point, the occupying team was at full strength.

Of course, on the surface, the three looked easy pickings. And the price of that complacency came for the team trying to step on the point.

Skala fully drew her bowstring. A viscous blue mana condensed at the arrowhead, making the surrounding air tremble faintly as if in fear.

"W-wait, guys! That archer's no joke—"

Too late.

Boom!

A blue flash lanced out like a laser. The two in its path flew like bowling pins, slamming into the wall. Two explosions followed immediately. Both eliminated in one shot.

"H-heeek!"

The lucky one who merely grazed by collapsed, legs giving out. The maze wall behind him had a bomb-blast hole. Before he could rise, an arrow pierced his forehead, finishing him.

"...!"

One person had wiped a team in a blink. The two teams checking each other halted their attacks. No—the atmosphere shifted entirely. All eyes locked on Skala.

Hah, look at this? Things are getting messy.

Skala clicked her tongue inwardly. She'd overdone it hoping they'd scatter in fear, but it backfired. Were they just that composed? Or dead serious about the exam? Facing a massive threat, they were forming an impromptu alliance.

"Take out that archer first! Or we're all done!"

As if waiting, the other team responded.

"Agreed! If we don't claim this point here, we're screwed! Prioritize the strong one!"

But some hesitated for practical reasons.

"What if they betray us?"

"...This isn't central zone—open collusion means penalties, right?"

They hadn't grasped it. Arrows weren't aimed at them. Walls weren't shattering around them. And as the enemies dithered helpfully, Skala wasn't about to let it slide.

"Chatting a lot with the enemy right in front of you?"

Suppressing the skill's recoil, Skala rapidly loosed arrows.

"Wind Barrier!"

A pale-faced mage swung his staff. A whirlwind curtain enveloped them. But the arrows didn't stop. Weakened slightly, they still pierced the barrier, embedding deep in feet or walls.

Only then did the enemies realize. The arrows still hummed with chilling mana. A direct hit wouldn't end pleasantly.

"Running means 1-2 of us drop for sure! Fight back!"

"Got it—don't stand still, scatter!"

Short talk, swift decisions. The two teams turned weapons on Skala.

"Hmph, being too good has its downsides. Didn't expect this much attention."

Skala scowled and drew again. Harné ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and Darvin quickly assumed positions before her.

"Darvin, support Skala. I'll block most attacks."

"Leave it to me!"

The enemies charged without delay. Two mages, four melee DPS. Mages hid in corners chanting; warriors split front and flank.

"Keep moving to avoid arrows! Take one down and momentum shifts!"

"Ha, you think that makes me miss?"

Skala aimed at the lead spearman. But she tsked and adjusted—the fireball from the corner.

Whump!

Arrow intercepted the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fireball; spearman lunged through the gap. But before thrusting, rubble smashed his side—Darvin telekinetically hurling wall debris Skala had shattered.

"Good, one down... Tch."

As Skala moved to finish the fallen spearman, magic missiles poured from another corner. She twisted aside barely in time; he scrambled away.

Skala licked her lips, amused.

"Hm, someone's got some bite over there? How much mana do they have?"

Missiles fired at steady intervals, denying her time on warriors. Mages were tucked in corners, unblockable. Meanwhile, three melee closed in.

"Good—hit her all at once!"

Victory seemed near. Just three steps away, the formidable foe exposed a gap. But they'd overlooked the girl standing firm before Skala.

Harné's blade tip swam smoothly through empty air.

Shhwick!

A faint ink-black afterimage rippled through the air like waves. An alien sight, as if mana had painted a picture in the void. The white taedo sliced forward a half-beat ahead, and the three froze mid-swing.

"Ugh! What is this sensation..."

"Ngh, my mana control..."

They weren't cut by the blade. Just grazed by the ink-black afterimage extending from it. Yet their internal mana suddenly disobeyed. Caught defenseless, they hastily retreated.

They realized: they couldn't reach the archer without passing the girl.

Discarding pride, all three attacked Harné. Greatsword, spear, dagger. Overlapping trajectories wove a net of death.

But Harné's blade swept it away like rapids deflecting debris. Each tip motion twisted attack lines; weapons clashed, deflected, spun astray. Like carriage wheels skidding on ice. Like branches swaying in fierce wind.

"Damn...!"

"Argh! Why's an arrow coming from behind?!"

Darvin's telekinesis joined: twisting legs slightly, yanking collected arrows for strikes.

"Hey! Almost hit me too!"

"Eek, sorry, Skala!"

The battlefield tilted. Harné swept the front; Darvin sub-DPSed and supported; Skala downed spells and exploited gaps.

Pop!

One lurking at Skala's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠flank took an arrow to the forehead, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠retiring.

"Yes! Harné, keep it up like—huh?"

At this rate, victory was in reach. So thought Darvin, carefully gathering arrows. He froze looking at Harné. Her breaths came visibly ragged; small shoulders trembled.

"H-Harné? You okay?"

"Yes... fine... Just 20 seconds... more..."

She didn't look fine at all. Her face had been off since suggesting they hold. She was overexerting, as expected.

And the enemies noticed Harné's state.

"She's worn out! Push now and we break through!"

Warriors who'd hesitated charged boldly. Harné raised her taedo with gritted teeth; the blade quivered pathetically.

"Ngh... 10 seconds..."

Spear grazed her side. Dagger scratched her arm. Blocking the overhead sword buckled her; one knee hit the ground.

"Good, one more hit!"

Arm numb from impact, Harné couldn't lift her sword. Spear mercilessly swung at the defenseless girl.

"Harné!"

"Tch, you said you were confident, now you're wheezing...!"

Skala intercepted yet another magic missile barrage. She scooped a fallen sword and kicked off. Body moved before mind—pure instinct, no room for calculation or reason.

That instant, Skala met eyes with Harné, who'd turned. Despite foes closing in, she looked uncannily calm. Just paler. But those eyes were unchanged.

Spear tip neared. Yet she faintly smiled, as if reassuring Skala. Then parted lips, declaring flatly.

"Noktia."

Crackle—

That single word flipped the battlefield's air.

"Wha—"

"Guhk!"

Spear tip bounced off into empty air just before Harné's chest. The dual-dagger student flew back, tumbling across the floor.

Pop!

A beat later, an explosion from someone's vest. The swordsman looked down at his, slumping in blank defeat.

"...What the hell was that."

Skala muttered blankly. Eyes saw fine, but brain couldn't process.

An unidentified entity emerged from a massive subspace rift, positioning protectively before Harné. It had instantly pressured the three foes.

Feminine in form, yet two heads taller than Skala. Slender limbs looked fragile enough to snap. Glossy deep-gray skin gleamed coldly; black-ink butterfly wings on her back shed dark powder. Crafted with inhuman elements melting into beauty, her appearance held a hypnotic elegance. A short black dress sharpened the otherworldly allure.

Ignoring the frozen surroundings, she met Harné's eyes, slowly kneeling. Then extended a hand courteously, like a noble gentleman.