"Huff… huff…"
With the continuous training, her muscles were already aching, her strength was fading, her stamina constantly being consumed.
This was the unmistakable sign of reaching the limits of the body.
The crimson-haired Crimson Princess bent slightly forward, gasping for breath in great gulps.
"Makoto, do you train at this level of intensity every morning?"
Running thirty kilometers—
And not a leisurely thirty kilometers either, but thirty kilometers that had to be finished within thirty minutes.
Stella had always thought that her training regimen since childhood was already quite rigorous.
Otherwise, she wouldn't have the strong and healthy body she had at her age.
But when she trained together with Makoto today, she realized at last—her training had been far too lenient.
"Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty…"
Makoto, meanwhile, was by the wall, doing handstand push-ups against it.
Sweat trickled ceaselessly down his half-bared chest, dripping to the floor and soaking the tiles.
The muscles of his arms swelled with effort, and a strong, masculine aura radiated from him.
Gulp—
A swallowing sound slipped out.
"Not really… it's only the past couple days that I've pushed the intensity this high. Before that, it was around twenty kilometers in half an hour."
At first, when Makoto realized his body was abnormal, he had bought a large amount of training equipment to properly develop it.
Eventually, he had reached a point where his physical growth seemed saturated.
But when he gained this mysterious power called mana, he discovered his once-stagnant growth had started again.
"As I thought, I still need to work harder. Otherwise, I'll be left far behind by you."
Struggling to tear her gaze away from Makoto's chest, Stella swallowed again unconsciously, speaking with a hint of emotion.
"I've told you—you're probably stronger than me right now. If you keep pushing yourself, it'll be tough for me to ever catch up."
With another burst of strength, Makoto sprang into the air from his handstand, twisting gracefully in midair before landing firmly.
"Exactly. That's why I need to work even harder."
Stella proudly lifted her chin, but then curiously asked:
"Is this enough for today?"
"Mm. That's about it for basic training. Next, I want to practice swordsmanship. Stella, could you spar with me a little?"
With a flash of dazzling light, his long blade, Ametsuki, appeared in Makoto's hand.
"Of course."
In an instant, Stella donned her Empress Dress, flames blazing around her.
"Come forth and serve thy master!"
She seized the flames rising before her.
"—Lævateinn!"
-=-=-
Time rewinds to yesterday evening, at the Seventh Training Ground.
"Boy, do you know what problems you still have besides the issues with your mana usage?"
Saikyō Nene lounged idly in her chair, her open fan sustaining fifty times gravity, crushing down on Makoto.
"Wha… wha… what… problem…"
Sweat poured off him like rain, soaking his black-and-white uniform completely.
"Your swordsmanship, boy. Seriously, how did you manage to be this one-sided in your skills?"
A mocking grin curved across Nene's lips.
"In spear techniques, even Kuu-chan said she can't teach you anything more. Your firearm skills are already excellent. But why, when it comes to the sword—which is also your Device—are you such a complete disaster?"
It was a question he couldn't explain.
After all, he'd never touched swords before coming here. The closest he'd handled in close combat were daggers.
Naturally, he knew nothing about swordsmanship, so he could only answer Nene's taunt with silence.
"Forget it. In some ways, it makes teaching you easier."
-=-=-
Clang—!
A sharp clash rang out.
Facing Stella's sweeping blade, Makoto quickly countered with a hurried swing, deflecting her strike.
"As I thought, Stella's sword is heavy. I may not know much about swordsmanship, but the sheer weight of your sword comes through clearly in my hands."
This time, Makoto didn't rely on his ability to boost speed.
He used only his physical strength to wield his blade.
Stella did the same, refraining from releasing her flames and focusing only on heavy strikes with her weapon.
Both wielded their Devices in released form, so neither worried about accidentally harming the other.
"Hmph. So you noticed."
A spark of joy lit up Stella's expression.
Since the day she awakened her power and was declared the possessor of the world's strongest mana, she'd been branded a genius.
Every time she grew stronger, every time she won, people whispered the word genius behind her back—
As though she had never worked hard, as though she had only grown this strong by talent alone.
But how could that be true?
To control her overwhelming power, the effort she poured in far surpassed those who only sneered at her.
Those people simply shifted the blame for their own laziness onto her.
That's why she hated it.
Hated those who saw only her talent, but not her effort.
"In that case, I'll keep pressing you."
Flushed with his praise, Stella grew even more spirited.
Gripping her blade with both hands, she swung again and again, like a charging tank crashing forward, hammering Makoto with her attacks.
"Hey, hey, hey, that's just more pressure on me."
Makoto's lips twitched as he stepped back, raising his sword again and again to block.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Makoto defended, Stella attacked.
He retreated step by step, she advanced without pause.
Their swords clashed in rapid succession, sparking crisp, ringing sounds in the air.
In terms of speed and power, the two were now about equal. But in technique, the gap between Makoto and Stella was vast.
So he was forced entirely onto defense.
Luckily, thanks to years of gun training, his dynamic vision was excellent. With Stella holding back, he could still barely keep up.
"Haramura-kun, if you lower your hips another fifty centimeters, it'll be easier to block."
Amid the tense, heated spar, a male voice suddenly rang out.
Makoto, however, had no time to think about who it belonged to—
His body instinctively adjusted as suggested.
Clang—!
Another sharp metallic note resounded.
With both hands gripping hard, Stella's overhead slash was perfectly blocked by Makoto.
Neither had any desire to continue sparring now; both turned to the source of the voice.
A boy stood among the shrubs.
He wore a tracksuit. Not burly, but with a lean and sturdy build.
He had short black hair, looked about Makoto's age, and had been the one to call out just now.
"Makoto, do you know him?"
Stella frowned unconsciously.
The atmosphere just now had felt so good—
Only to be broken by his interruption.
That precious mood was ruined.
"No. I have no memory of him."
Makoto didn't even need to think. He'd only been in this world a few days; the people he knew could be counted on one hand.
"Sorry. I just noticed something and couldn't resist pointing it out. You don't know me, but I saw your fight yesterday at the Tenth Training Ground. It was impressive."
Scratching his head, the boy replied with friendly sincerity.
"It's fine, it's fine! Your advice just now was very helpful—I really learned something."
Unlike Stella, Makoto showed no dislike.
Instead, he sincerely thanked him.
No one is obligated to help you. But if someone does, you should at least thank them.
"I'm Haramura Makoto, first-year student, just enrolled."
Makoto stepped forward and offered his hand.
"I'm Kurogane Ikki, a second-year repeater. Nice to meet you."
For a moment, surprise flashed across Ikki's face, as though to say—why is he being so friendly to me?
But it vanished in an instant, and he took Makoto's hand.
"Kurogane?"
Makoto blinked in surprise.
"Haha…"
Ikki let out a strained laugh, as if realizing what Makoto had caught onto, covering his discomfort with a chuckle.
That laugh was confirmation enough.
Makoto was certain now.
"So it really is you."
"In that case, Kurogane Itsuki is…?"
As though confirming the last piece, Makoto asked.
"…He's my father."
Ikki's face turned more helpless. He had no choice but to admit it.
Even Stella's expression shifted at that.
Not for any personal reason—
But because the Kurogane name carried great weight in Japan.
During World War II, thanks to a single Blazer, Japan, a small nation, had risen to become one of the victors, maintaining prestige within the Allies.
That man was the Blazer, Kurogane Ryōuma—known as the "Samurai Ryōuma."
It was Ryōuma whom Stella idolized.
It was to emulate him that she came across the sea to study in this far eastern land.
But Makoto's knowledge of Ikki wasn't because of that.
It was because yesterday, when he demonstrated his ability, Division Chief Kurogane Itsuki had shown a strange attitude toward Kurono.
And Ikki, despite being a Kurogane, was infamous at this academy.
Though he bore the Kurogane name, his mana was pitifully low—only F-rank.
Because of this, his school life had been extremely difficult. By all rights, he should have been expelled last term.
And yet, here he still was.
Which meant only one thing.
That he was the very student Kurono had mentioned—The one who had defeated her despite her holding back.
"Stella, I know you're curious, but now's the time for a self-introduction."
Noticing Stella's inquisitive stare at Ikki, Makoto realized she must have already seen his weak mana.
"Ah, right."
Almost as if belatedly realizing, Stella stepped up beside Makoto and offered her hand as well.
"Stella Vermillion. Just enrolled this year. Pleased to meet you."
"Pleased to meet you."
For Ikki, it was a strange feeling.
Having long grown used to mockery and contempt, he expected these A-rank knights to sneer at him too.
Yet they treated him like anyone else.
"Kurogane-kun, are you very skilled with the sword?"
After introductions, Makoto immediately asked, eyes full of curiosity.
There was no other reason—simply that Ikki Kurogane's guidance just now had been sharp and to the point.
Compared to yesterday's approach from Nene, who merely told him to "realize it yourself in battle," this was on a whole different level.
"I've studied it a little, that's all. After all, look—my mana capacity is very low, and all my other abilities are low as well. That's why I can only be evaluated as an F-rank knight."
Ikki Kurogane laughed heartily.
Even when bringing up his own embarrassing circumstances, not the slightest shadow clouded his face.
"So all I can do is relentlessly hone my swordsmanship. Fortunately, when it comes to the sword, I seem to have just a little bit of talent."
"No—! That's far more than just a little talent."
Makoto's eyes locked firmly onto Ikki Kurogane. Only after a long while did the corners of his mouth curl upward into a faint grin.
"To be able to defeat the director while only at F-rank—there's no way mere 'talent' could explain that."
"That was all just luck."
"Well then… this might be a bit sudden, but—would you be willing to have a mock battle with me?"
Makoto's gaze burned as he looked at Ikki Kurogane.
He could tell—this man before him was without a doubt a swordsman of extraordinary caliber.
Just yesterday Nene had also said it: the fastest way to sharpen one's swordsmanship is to continually cross blades with those above your level.
That's how growth comes quickest.
Ding—
"Makoto, maybe put it off for a little later. The opening ceremony's about to begin—you need to head back and shower first."