"The distance was too great..."
The moment the ambush had begun, Haruki Aizawa had already extended his Sense of Fluctuation. However, due to the density of the forest and the sheer distance of the shot, the attacker had managed to slip away before Haruki's mental radar could fully lock onto their signature.
Haruki stood up, releasing his hold on Julis. He moved to offer her a hand, but the girl looked up at him with a storm of complex emotions brewing in her turquoise eyes.
"Why?" she whispered. "Why did you save me?"
"Why?" Haruki paused, genuinely surprised by the question. "We're acquaintances, aren't we? If I let you die right in front of me, it would weigh on my conscience."
"Your conscience? That's it?"
"All acts of justice stem from a personal moral code," Haruki explained with a detached, clinical rationality. "I consider my sense of ethics to be within the standard human range. I don't let people I know die if I have the power to stop it."
To Haruki, life was governed by the essence of the self. His essence was that of a swordsman; therefore, he followed the unspoken creed of the blade. As long as the person in danger wasn't an evildoer, he would act. It was as simple as a mathematical equation.
"I... I see," Julis murmured, stunned by his bluntness.
Seeing her hesitate, Haruki didn't wait for her to stand on her own. He reached down, scooped her up in a professional "princess carry," and began walking.
"W-What are you doing?! Put me down!"
Julis panicked, her face turning a volcanic red. She began to squirm, but Haruki's grip was like iron.
"You've been sitting there for a while. I assumed you twisted your ankle," Haruki said calmly. "I'll see this through and get you back to the dorms."
"You... you intend to carry me like this all the way back?!"
"Is there another way?"
He looked at her with such a matter-of-fact expression that Julis found herself momentarily speechless. However, their "moment" was interrupted by the sound of footsteps. A group of students was heading home after club activities and rounded the corner just in time to see the Rank 5 Princess cradled in the arms of the mysterious transfer student.
"Wait... is that the Princess?!"
"The transfer student is carrying her? Are they really a thing?"
"He moved fast! He took down the Ice Queen in a single day!"
"Man, I'm so jealous... I mean, how dare he! I want to be that close to Julis-sama!"
The whispers and catcalls erupted instantly. Julis's embarrassment shifted into white-hot fury. Faint sparks of mana began to dance along her skin.
"LET! ME! DOWN!" she shrieked.
Haruki, realizing the social situation had officially become "loud," set her down gently. He expected her to attack him out of spite, just as she had that morning.
But Julis, while temperamental, wasn't ungrateful. She took a deep breath, smoothing out her dress and forcing her magical energy to recede. She looked at the spot where the arrow had landed and then up at Haruki.
"Thank you," she said, her voice quiet but sincere. "If you hadn't moved, that arrow would have taken my head."
"True. I suppose I am your savior."
Julis's eye twitched. "Calling yourself someone's savior is incredibly arrogant, you know."
"I am merely stating a fact."
"You..." Julis sighed, giving up. "Fine. I'll repay the debt. I won't challenge you to another duel. We're even."
"That's a shame," Haruki said. He had been looking forward to analyzing her flame fluctuations further. But he wasn't the type to force an issue. He turned to leave, but Julis called out to him again.
"Aizawa. You're planning to enter the Phoenix Festa, aren't you?"
"What makes you say that?"
"Transferring into Seidokan as a Special Cadet right before the tournament season? The Academy Foundation only brings in people like you when they're desperate for a win. They haven't had a champion in years."
"You're not wrong," Haruki admitted.
"Then we're in the same boat," Julis said, crossing her arms. "I'm entering too. I don't care about my title or being a Princess. Everyone in this city is fighting for something they can only get here. I'm going to be the champion of the Phoenix Festa, no matter who stands in my way."
Her eyes burned with a fierce, unwavering resolve. Haruki looked at her and saw a kindred spirit—someone who was willing to bet everything on their own strength.
"You have a goal then," Haruki noted.
He knew that the winner of the Festa was granted a "wish" by the megacorporations—a reward that could range from wealth to political changes.
"I do," Julis said.
"And what is it?"
Julis didn't hesitate. "Money."
"Money?" Haruki repeated, a hint of disappointment in his voice. To a man who sought the peak of existence, chasing currency felt... shallow.
"I need it," Julis snapped. "And the Festa is the fastest way to get it. I don't have much time left. I have to achieve my goal this year."
Haruki nodded. He didn't judge her. He could sense that her desire for wealth wasn't born of greed, but of a necessity he didn't yet understand.
"Which means," Haruki said, "we'll eventually be opponents."
"Hmph. Don't expect me to go easy on you."
Julis's confidence was high, but her expression flickered with a brief shadow of doubt. Haruki remembered the rules of the Phoenix Festa—it was a doubles tournament. Partners were required.
Julis was the "Ice Queen." She was isolated, abrasive, and proud. She likely didn't have a single person she could call a friend, let alone a partner who could keep up with her in a high-stakes battle.
"You haven't found a partner yet, have you?" Haruki asked.
"I... that's...!" Julis bit her lip. "I haven't found one because no one meets my standards! It has nothing to do with my social life! Most students here are just looking for a ride on my coat-tails. I won't carry a weakling."
Haruki considered her for a moment. "What are your standards?"
"Strength equal to my own—which is a high bar. At least Page One Twelve level. They need to be sharp, determined, and have a clear code of honor. No thugs, no cowards."
"Then you'll never find one," Haruki said bluntly.
"I will! And if I don't... I'll fight alone. I don't need anyone to win."
She turned to walk toward the dorms, her shoulders tense.
Haruki watched her for a beat, then spoke. "Julis. Why don't you partner with me?"
Julis spun around, nearly tripping over her own feet. "W-What did you say?!"
"I meet your requirements. And more importantly, I won't hold you back."
Haruki wasn't acting out of pity. He simply saw a pragmatic advantage. Julis was a powerful Strega with refined control. She would be an excellent support for his frontline style.
"Are you... are you serious?" Julis asked, her face flushing again. "You know how difficult I am to work with, right?"
"Your personality is a mess," Haruki agreed. "But your power is real. That's all I care about."
"You...!" Julis wanted to be angry, but the compliment—buried as it was in an insult—made her heart skip. "If we do this... you have to take responsibility. No quitting. No excuses."
"Fine."
The following Sunday, Haruki and Julis met in the Slums of Asterisk. Haruki had deduced that the "assassin" was likely an insider using Al-D puppets, and the Slums were the only place to meet handlers without being caught on camera.
As they searched the Re-development Zone, they were ambushed by Silas Norman and his swarm of autonomous puppets.
"My, my... I didn't expect you to find me so quickly," a voice drawled from a high concrete beam.
Silas Norman, the seemingly unremarkable student with the perfect alibi, looked down at them with a sneer.
"So it was you," Julis hissed, her flames already igniting. "Why? Why attack your own classmates?"
"For the same reason you're in the Festa, Princess. Money. Allekant pays well for field data on Page One members. You're just a premium test subject."
Julis launched a massive Dragon-Swallowing Flaming Bloom, but a hulking, black-cloaked figure dropped from the ceiling, absorbing the blast with its bare hands.
"What!?" Julis gasped. No human could touch her flames like that.
The figure tore off its cloak, revealing a faceless, metallic Al-D combat unit. Two more stepped out from the shadows.
"These aren't standard robots, Julis," Silas laughed. "I'm a Dante. My ability allows me to imbue inorganic matter with Mana and control it like my own limbs. These puppets have been specifically reinforced with heat-resistant alloys. Your fire is useless here!"
Silas snapped his fingers. The puppets drew high-caliber machine guns and opened fire.
Haruki had already vanished. He had identified the "anchor" puppets and was currently busy dismantling them in the surrounding ruins.
Julis, left to face the primary squad, found herself on the defensive. Her flames licked harmlessly off their armor. She tried to dodge, but the crossfire was too dense.
STUNG!
A bullet grazed her thigh. She cried out, her concentration breaking. Her flames flickered and died as she collapsed against a concrete wall.
"Your fire is impressive, but your body is fragile," Silas said, walking toward her as his puppets pinned her down. He kicked her wounded leg, eliciting a scream of pain.
"I'm not a monster, Julis. I'll make this quick. I just wanted to see that look of despair on your face before I finished you."
He signaled a puppet wielding a massive executioner's axe. The machine raised the blade over the kneeling Princess.
Julis closed her eyes, waiting for the end.
WHOOSH.
A violent wind swept through the construction site. It smelled of ozone and cold steel.
"Sorry I'm late," a familiar, low voice echoed.
Julis opened her eyes. Haruki Aizawa was standing in the center of the clearing. He was holding Onikiri, the dark Varanium blade dripping with mechanical fluid.
Behind him, the ruins were silent. A mountain of decapitated and shredded Al-D units lay in his wake—dozens of them, reduced to scrap in minutes.
Chapter 133: Haruki's Absolute Domain
Haruki looked at Silas, his eyes glowing with a faint, violet light.
"You called these 'unstoppable'?" Haruki asked, gesturing to the pile of scrap behind him. "They moved well enough, but their rhythm was too predictable. A machine without a soul can't win a duel."
Silas stared at the wreckage of his "masterpieces" in horror. "Impossible... those were prototype combat units! No human should be able to cut through that armor!"
Haruki stepped forward, the air around him vibrating with the weight of his killing intent.
"You relied on your toys," Haruki said. "I rely on the blade. That is the difference between a technician and a warrior."
Silas panicked. He signaled the remaining puppets to swarm Haruki, but it was like watching a man try to hold back a tsunami with a sieve. Haruki didn't even use a named technique. He moved with a terrifying, fluid grace, his blade a blur that left only sparks and severed metal in its path.
Within seconds, the remaining puppets were silenced. Haruki stood before Silas, the tip of his sword resting against the boy's throat.
"Wait! I... I give up! Don't kill me!" Silas shrieked.
Haruki looked back at the wounded Julis. "He's yours. What's the verdict?"
Julis, clutching her leg, looked at the coward who had tried to murder her. Her eyes were hard, but she didn't call for blood. "Turn him over to the Guard. He's not worth the stain on your blade."
Haruki nodded and knocked Silas unconscious with the hilt of his sword. He then walked over to Julis and knelt beside her.
"Can you walk?"
"I... I think so," she whispered, her gaze lingering on him. She had seen him fight before, but this... this was different. He hadn't just beaten the enemy; he had erased them.
Haruki didn't wait for her to try. He scooped her up again in a princess carry.
"Aizawa! I said I could walk!"
"You're bleeding," he said simply. "Be quiet."
Julis huffed, but this time, she didn't struggle. She rested her head against his shoulder, her heart beating with a rhythm that had nothing to do with fear.
The Sword Ghost had found his partner. The Phoenix Festa was about to become a very one-sided affair.
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