Chapter 111: The Girl Who Calls the Stars
Erika had been practicing kendo since she was very young.
Swinging her sword before dawn until she was drenched in sweat was part of her daily routine.
Until the age of ten, she couldn't defy her father and obediently trained in the dojo day after day, raised almost like a boy.
By fourteen, when she learned of her true identity, her mentality had already become more like a Chiba swordsman than anyone else's.
Up until last March, she had been training purely out of habit, aiming to become a Chiba swordsman.
But ever since meeting that person last April, Erika had actively desired to grow stronger—by her own will.
Her father had naturally recognized her talent long ago. To mold her into the wielder of the secret sword technique "Kirikage"—no, to make her the wielder of Kirikage—he had trained her relentlessly.
What he imparted to her was the sword of speed—a blade that slashed like the wind and struck like lightning.
Thus, the training she endured was even harsher than that of her eldest brother, Chiba Toshikazu, the most outstanding swordsman in the family.
Yet she never complained, and her progress was undeniable. Even Sayaka, who was also skilled in pure swordsmanship, couldn't help but marvel at her talent.
After receiving the enhancement serum provided by that person—Mahiro—Erika felt her abilities had ascended to another level.
First, she defeated her eldest brother, Chiba Toshikazu. Then, she fought to a draw with the prodigy of the Chiba family—her second brother, Chiba Naotsugu, who had mastered the Chiba-ryu swordsmanship to the point of receiving the menkyo kaiden (full transmission license).
Logically, with her skill, she should have earned the same recognition.
But because she was a girl, Erika only received the Chiba family's menkyo (license), not the full kaiden.
Not that she cared about such titles. All that mattered was that her strength had been acknowledged—she had truly become powerful.
And so, riding that high, she wanted to challenge even stronger swordsmen.
Like Mahiro—someone who wasn't even a swordsman but a magician with formidable sword skills.
That had been her plan: to settle things during this spring break!
But before she could even challenge the "final boss," she suffered a crushing defeat at the hands of Kisara, a pure swordsman—her own personal Waterloo.
"Oww, it hurts!"
Erika lay face-down on the sofa, groaning in pain as her cries filled the room.
Beside her, Mari applied medicinal oil to her slender, soft waist, murmuring, "Bear with it. The pain will fade once the medicine takes effect."
But seeing Erika in such a pitiful state, Mari couldn't help but sigh.
"Honestly, you're such an idiot. Who told you to challenge her so recklessly?"
"Ugh, how was I supposed to know she was that strong?" Erika whined, her eyes burning with frustration—so much so that she even forgot her usual bickering with Mari.
Kisara hadn't even used magic. She had predicted Erika's movements purely through instinct and then delivered that absurdly powerful strike.
Her bamboo sword had been shattered. If it had been a real blade, she might have been bisected.
"This is what they call 'there's always someone better.' Now you get it, right?"
"Someone better my foot! She just—Eek! Oww, oww, oww!"
Seeing Erika still defiant, Mari pressed down a little harder with the medicine, making her yelp in pain.
That said, Mari herself was surprised.
Even Erika had lost.
As a disciple of the Chiba school, Mari knew exactly how strong Erika was—praised as the most talented successor in the dojo.
Even Chiba Naotsugu, the most skilled among them, had admitted that if Erika ever got serious and fully unleashed her talent, he wouldn't be able to keep up.
Too bad she was a girl.
"Quit complaining when you got off easy."
Hearing their conversation, Mahiro, who had been leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed, walked over and took Mari's place. He picked up the ointment and began applying it to Erika's back.
"You lasted quite a few exchanges against Kisara. That's already impressive."
After years of training, the muscles of the girl's waist were perfectly toned—not overly bulky, but defined with smooth lines while remaining supple.
The curves flowed seamlessly into her well-shaped hips, like a work of art—a model's physique in every sense.
Feeling the sudden change in technique, Erika sucked in a sharp breath.
Between the faint pain and the cooling sensation, her body inexplicably grew warm. She squirmed slightly, muttering in protest:
"...Hey, be gentler!"
"Yeah, yeah. I'll go easy."
Mahiro lightened his touch, and Erika settled back down, quietly letting his fingers glide over her waist.
"...I already knew that," Erika suddenly murmured, her face still buried in the sofa.
"Knew what?"
"That she wasn't going all out against me... right?"
"Surprised you noticed."
"You are treating me like an idiot!"
Erika bared her fangs in annoyance. "I've trained in swordsmanship for years. Just from crossing blades, I can tell if someone's holding back... But that Kisara—just how strong is she at full power?"
Her voice trailed off into a whisper, as if talking to herself.
Truthfully, she couldn't even imagine it.
But Mahiro gave her a clear answer—
"One strike, two hits."
"…Huh?"
Erika twisted her neck to look at him, confusion in her eyes.
Mari, who had been drinking water nearby, also didn't understand. She had never heard of such a thing. "What do you mean?"
Mahiro continued massaging Erika's waist as he calmly explained:
"It's exactly what it sounds like. A single slash that's actually two. The second strike reaches supersonic speed, making it impossible for the human eye to perceive—so it's mistaken for one."
Mari nearly dropped her glass.
"Without using magic? Just pure skill?"
"Yep."
"..."
Mari was stunned, holding her breath.
Erika, too, fell silent.
Without exchanging a word, they both thought the same thing—
Is that even humanly possible?
But then, Mahiro added:
"And that was back when her kidneys were failing and she needed dialysis to survive. Now? I have no idea how strong she's become.
She might even be able to pull off three or four hits in one slash."
He wasn't exaggerating.
This was the pinnacle of swordsmanship honed by Kisara, the vengeful demon.
Sure, Miori could hold her own in their bouts—but that was partly because Miori herself was no slouch, having mastered the Shiba-ryu to menkyo kaiden level.
And partly because Kisara never went all-out.
If she ever unleashed Kendo-ryu seriously, Miori might not even survive a single exchange.
Even Mahiro had been stunned when he first saw it.
"Tch... So she's that strong, huh..."
Seeing no deceit in his words, Erika turned her head back and rested her chin on her hands, staring blankly at the cracks in the floor as if counting the dust particles.
What she was thinking, no one could say.
By now, Mahiro had finished applying the ointment. He stood up and said:
"Alright, Erika. Rest up for a day or two, and you'll be fine. Just don't forget our bet."
"Yeah, yeah. I won't."
Erika pouted, looking thoroughly wronged, before muttering under her breath:
"Teaching sword techniques, huh? Fine, I'll do it!"
She couldn't shake the feeling that Mahiro had played her.
Meanwhile, Mari was completely in the dark—she had no idea Erika and Mahiro had even made a bet!
But after hearing the details from Erika, her expression turned strange.
Like Erika, she was convinced this was all part of Mahiro's scheme!
That said, what they thought didn't matter to Mahiro—he neither knew nor had time to care.
Because the moment he stepped out of Erika's room, he ran into Mayumi, who was hurrying toward him with a panicked look.
"What's wrong, senpai? You seem flustered."
"Thank goodness I found you, Mahiro-kun! I need your help!"
Mayumi panted lightly, clearly out of breath, yet her expression remained deadly serious.
...
Half an Hour Earlier.
Mayumi had received an encrypted email.
After decoding it, she realized it was a distress call.
But not for her—for the Saegusa family.
A certain naval base was conducting inhumane human experiments—attempting to recreate the strategic magic "Meteorite Fall," a relic from the Great War.
Just reading that much had already filled Mayumi with dread.
Meteorite Fall.
The strategic magic that had struck Florida, USNA, back in February.
She knew exactly who had used it—her boyfriend, the unexpectedly troublesome Mahiro-kun.
And right now, she was standing in his territory.
So she went straight to him and explained everything.
"So, let me get this straight—some idiots holed up in a military base are trying to replicate the same magic I used?"
"Well... that's one way to put it."
Mayumi nodded gravely.
"But according to my research, this 'Watatsumi Project' was supposedly shut down long ago due to various issues. I never expected it to be revived now..."
"Tsk..."
Crossing his legs, Mahiro propped his chin on one hand with a slightly peculiar expression.
His own "Meteor Fall" shared the same principle as the legacy magic "Meteorite Fall" from the Great War—both utilized gravity magic to pull meteors or asteroids from the sky.
But strictly speaking, his version was more powerful.
After all, he employed thirty-two layers of gravity magic, making it far more potent than "Meteorite Fall" in both effect and destructive force.
What a coincidence...
"One more thing, Mahiro-kun. Our objective this time is to rescue a child named Kokoa. Just bring her to safety."
"Got it. Leave it to me."
Mahiro responded, his gaze drifting to the window as he murmured nostalgically,
"Does this count as revisiting old haunts?"
As the island below grew larger, Mahiro felt a surge of emotions.
Who would have thought their destination would once again be South Shield Island—the same place he had toured with the Saegusa sisters and Miyuki before?
It was also here that he had officially won Mayumi's heart.
But this time, they weren't here for reminiscence or leisure.
They were here to turn this place upside down.
However, they weren't the only ones taking action.
Perhaps still traumatized from their last encounter with Mahiro, the USNA had also mobilized.
Under the guise of military exercises, they had stealthily deployed tactical submarines into Japanese waters, preparing to invade South Shield Island.
"I'll relay the General Staff's orders. Our mission is to completely destroy the magic research facility at the South Shield Island naval base—including all research data and experimental equipment."
So declared Major Angelina Sirius, the golden-haired girl in black combat fatigues, her long hair cascading down to her waist.
Once again, she was leading the operation.
Though she had only recently left this nightmarish country and should have been enjoying her leave, she had barely touched down before being abruptly ordered back for another mission—in the very same nightmarish country.
On one hand, the higher-ups likely intended this as a chance for her to redeem herself.
After all, her previous mission had been a complete failure.
On the other hand, rumors suggested the magic researched here posed a global threat—potentially capable of causing another Florida-scale tragedy, or something even worse.
Angelina refrained from further comment. She just prayed she wouldn't run into that man again...
"...Surely lightning won't strike twice?"
Meanwhile, chaos had already engulfed South Shield Island.
"Have you found that escaped test subject yet?!"
"Not yet. We've searched the entire facility but—"
"Damn it! Then why are you still here?! Scour every inch of this island! Lock down all air and sea traffic immediately—nothing leaves until we recover the subject! Understood?!"
"Yes, sir!"
There were nine test subjects in total, all meticulously engineered and adjusted.
Only with nine or more adjusted subjects forming an array could they properly operate the massive CAD and successfully cast "Meteorite Fall" to pull an asteroid from orbit.
Yet at the brink of success, one had escaped.
"That damn traitor...!"
The lead researcher glared furiously at the restrained woman—the one who had freed the subject.
"Take her away and lock her up! No visitors without my authorization!"
Though he wanted to execute the traitor on the spot, he needed her alive to track down the escaped subject.
And besides—
"You think losing one subject means the experiment is over?
How naive!
It'll still work—just with minor imperfections!"
The old man's murky eyes gleamed with fervor as he studied the orbital trajectories on screen, particularly one decommissioned USNA strategic satellite—the "Seventh Plague."
Armed with 60 tons of depleted uranium, this orbital weapon had been developed during the Great War as a "Rod from God"-style system before being abandoned for humanitarian reasons.
If they could alter its trajectory to target the USNA itself, their "Watatsumi Project" might regain the higher-ups' favor!
"Is this Kokoa?"
"Should be..."
After landing on South Shield Island, they located their target per the coded instructions.
A young girl—perhaps slightly older than Tina and her sisters—with unkempt, tangled hair and a frail frame draped in what resembled a surgical gown.
Mayumi crouched to eye level, offering a gentle smile.
"Are you Watatsumi Kokoa-chan?"
From behind her bangs, the girl's sea-blue eyes blinked as she studied Mayumi, then slowly looked up at Mahiro and the others.
After a brief pause, she nodded mechanically.
"Affirmative. I am Watatsumi Series, Production No. 22, Designation: Kokoa. Are you Saegusa Mayumi?"
Her speech pattern sounded artificially learned.
Mahiro instantly recognized her as an adjusted subject—one crudely engineered as a disposable component rather than granted proper knowledge.
Some things never change across worlds...
Kokoa reminded him painfully of the Cursed Children.
"So that's why 'Watatsumi'..."
Fellow operative Miyuki pondered the name.
"Watatsumi"—homophonous with the Japanese sea deity Watatsumi.
But if the magic pulls rocks from space, why name it after a sea god?!
The absurdity almost made Mahiro laugh.