The gymnasium trembled beneath the weight of clashing magic and raw spirit.
Cracks spiderwebbed across the once-polished floor. Arcane sigils flickered in and out of existence like dying stars. Miya Tsukihiro moved like a storm compressed into human form in the chaos.
Her fist collided with a masked attacker's ribcage, followed by a sweeping kick that sent the girl crashing into the wall. A flash of spiritual energy—wolf-shaped and crackling with silver light—rippled behind her, her twin spirit familiars circling like sentinels.
"Three pawns and a rook," Miya muttered under her breath, flexing her knuckles as her gloves hummed with barely restrained power. "All girls."
Eiji Kuroryuu stood just a few meters away, crouched behind a toppled bench. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he flicked a condensed void burst forward. It slammed into a glowing sigil mid-cast, exploding it in a sharp pulse of static energy. The girl casting it stumbled back, coughing, eyes wide.
"I recognize one of them," Eiji said, rising to his feet. "Back when Reignar gave me a personal beatdown. She watched the whole thing from the bleachers."
Miya threw a punch that cracked the gym floor as the rook barely dodged.
"Lucky you," she said dryly. "They remember your face."
"Maybe they remember my tragic charm."
"Or your tragic hair."
"I styled it like this on purpose," Eiji shot back.
"With a blindfold and a cursed circle?"
He sighed. "Low blow."
Her gaze turned serious as she scanned the enemies. One girl stood out—the rook. Taller, heavier-built fists wrapped in glowing magical steel. She cracked her neck like she was about to break bones just for fun.
"The rook's mine," Miya said, dropping into her stance. Her aura condensed around her fists, wild storm spirals interlaced with white wolf energy. "You take the pawns. Try not to get molested."
"I feel like that's foreshadowing something," Eiji muttered.
Before either could act, the three pawns surged forward. One sprinted straight at him, empowered with brute strength. Another flickered sideways using wind-enhanced step magic. The third remained at a distance, rapidly drawing glowing incantations in midair.
"Cute," Eiji said, sliding back. "Alright then. Let's dance."
The flanking pawn tried a surprise tackle, but one of Miya's wolves intercepted her mid-leap, jaws glowing cold blue. The other spirit beast disrupted the sigils the long-range caster had just finished drawing, scattering the spells before they could ignite.
Then Miya moved.
Her footwork was brutal and beautiful—raw martial grace honed through training and instinct. She ducked low, launched upward, and slammed her elbow into the lead pawn's chin. The girl spun midair and hit the ground hard, unconscious before she landed.
Behind her, the enemy rook slammed her foot into the gym floor.
BOOM.
A heavy pulse of pressure exploded outward, shattering the magic haze. All illusions dissolved in a single ripple, leaving the battlefield raw and exposed under white gym lights.
Eiji and Miya now stood clearly—no tricks, stealth, just power.
"Finally," Eiji murmured, cracking his knuckles. "A fair fight."
One of the remaining pawns rushed him in desperation. Eiji sidestepped and countered with a low burst of abyssal flame. It wasn't flashy—but it was fast. The black fire wrapped around her robes, burning the mana circuit without singing her skin. She hit the ground, groaning.
The final two pawns hesitated.
Eiji raised one finger. "You girls want to see something fun?"
Miya, still trading blows with the rook, didn't look over. "Eiji. Don't."
"I'm serious this time. It's genius."
"I said don't do anything stupid."
"I never do stupid things," Eiji said—and then, naturally, did something foolish.
He pinched his thumb and index finger together.
There was no light. No explosion. It's just a soft click, like snapping a thread in the universe.
And then—chaos.
The two pawns gasped. Their enchanted gear flickered. Armor runes failed. Clothes began to unravel into glowing pixels, dissipating midair like dandelion seeds caught in flame.
In the span of three seconds, both girls were reduced to underwear—and then, as Eiji's shatterwave reached its peak frequency, nothing but magical mist.
They screamed. They clutched at themselves. They dropped to their knees in shock.
"What the hell?!"
"My mana link—it's gone! My gear—it's… I'm naked!!"
From across the
arena, Kirika and Aika stared frozen through the magical viewing orb.
"…He didn't," Kirika whispered.
"He did," Aika said, covering her face. "Why is he like this?"
Miya stopped mid-punch, turning just enough to squint at Eiji. "You created a magic-based strip bomb?"
"It's a suppression pulse!" Eiji snapped. "Temporary disruption of surface enchantments and mana-linked gear. They'll get their magic back in ten to fifteen minutes."
"They're naked, Eiji."
"They're powerless, Miya. Big difference."
The girls scrambled away, their casting attempts fizzling. Their mana was gone—temporarily severed from the internal flow.
"I call it: Clothing Collapse—Cursed Core Cut-Off," Eiji declared, spreading his arms like he expected applause.
Miya raised a brow. "You are never naming anything again."
Eiji grinned. "I didn't even activate the secondary phase—Absolute Strip Trigger: Void Mode."
"Shut. Up."
With a final roar, the opposing rook charged Miya.
Bad idea.
Miya feinted left, caught the girl's punch with a twist of her shoulder, then slammed a knee into her midsection. As the rook gasped, Miya spun, her fist glowing with condensed wolf energy, and slammed it into the girl's chest.
The rook flew backward like a missile and crashed into the bleachers, wood shattering.
Silence.
Only Miya's shallow breaths and Eiji's smug chuckle remained.
"Well," he said, walking over. "That was fun."
"I swear if you ever deploy that spell again…"
"…We win, don't we?"
"You're impossible."
Eiji gave her a crooked smile. "And yet, here we are. Storm and fire. Tag team champions of this weird-ass tournament."
Miya rolled her eyes—but she didn't deny it.
From the viewing room, Kirika finally exhaled.
"…He just strategically served his way to victory."
Aika buried her face in her hands. "I'm transferring schools."
And back on the gym floor, Eiji Kuroryuu adjusted his gauntlet, looked around at the fallen girls, and said:
"Next round's gonna be even better."
Miya just sighed.
The match had only just begun.
courtyard
The courtyard shimmered with residual magic.
Faint trails of golden light faded into the cracks of the flagstone as the last of Reignar's pawns collapsed, unconscious and disarmed. A gust of warm wind stirred the fallen leaves, and silence followed—a rare stillness in the chaos of the Club Combat Cup.
Seraphina Falcor exhaled softly, brushing back a lock of pale hair that had slipped free from her enchanted braid. Her golden eyes flickered—not with panic, but with calculation.
Two enemies down.
Dozens more to go.
Behind her, Amane Shirayuki lowered her hand, the silvery glow of her barrier magic fading like moonlight receding before dawn. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, but she smiled just a little.
"You're not hurt, right?" Amane asked, brushing invisible dust from Seraphina's shoulder.
Seraphina gave a subtle shake of her head. "Thanks to you. That last one nearly got me with a binding curse."
"She would've had to get past me first," Amane said with a slight grin, rubbing her sore wrist.
Seraphina looked around. The courtyard was scattered with faintly glowing sigils, cracked pillars, and scorch marks—a battleground decisively won but not without cost. Their time was up here.
"The phase is complete," Seraphina said, her tone crisp. "Time to retreat and reorient."
Amane blinked. "Retreat? But we're winning."
Seraphina's eyes sharpened. "Which is why they'll counterattack soon. I don't plan to let them control the next engagement."
She raised a gloved hand, runes igniting around her fingertips in gold-etched spirals. The ground beneath them pulsed as a magic circle bloomed outward, forming like a celestial gate beneath their feet.
Amane stepped closer instinctively. "We're heading back to base?"
Seraphina nodded once. "To the Research Club Room. We'll regroup, then issue new orders."
The golden light flared, and in a heartbeat—they were gone.
The scent of sandalwood and old parchment filled the air as they materialized inside the Research Club's base.
It wasn't a massive command center—just a renovated storage room filled with arcane devices, crystal screens, and stacks of maps glowing with magical threads. But it was theirs. It was home.
The room responded to their presence, or perhaps just to Seraphina. The runes along the walls glowed brighter, and the projection table in the center flickered to life, displaying a bird's-eye view of the Academy grounds—color-coded markers tracking movement across various sectors.
"Status map initializing," the system chimed in a monotone voice.
Amane let out a breath and sank onto the nearby couch. "Okay. That teleport always makes my ears pop."
Seraphina was already walking toward the center console, hand hovering above the command interface as the map rotated, zooming in on the gymnasium, library wing, and courtyard.
"Team Miya and Eiji just cleared the gym," she said. "Three pawns and a rook neutralized. No injuries on our side."
Amane perked up. "Eiji followed orders?"
Seraphina's lips twitched faintly. "He followed… most of them."
"Wow," Amane smirked. "So he didn't blow up the whole gym. Character development."
The projection flickered again. Dots shifted, and new units entered from the southern dorms. Seraphina's eyes narrowed.
"Reignar's reinforcements are heading toward the greenhouse and the east library wing. They're trying to encircle our outer zones."
Amane leaned forward. "That means they're either underestimating our core strength… or planning to bait us into overextending."
"Either way, they're forgetting something," Seraphina said, adjusting the layout. "This isn't just a game of power. It's a game of placement."
Golden threads of light spun outward from her fingers as she issued a silent command. Across the map, her peerage markers began to shift.
Telepathic link activated.
"—This is Seraphina. All units adjust formation. Group Theta: fall back to the library wing and set up barrier traps. Miya and Eiji, hold gymnasium control for six more minutes—then switch to the west corridor."
Miya's voice came through faintly in her mind: "Understood. Eiji's grinning like an idiot, by the way."
Seraphina closed her eyes for a brief second. "As long as he's grinning and not stripped naked, I'll accept that."
"Focus," Seraphina replied calmly, even as a smile ghosted her lips. "We're pivoting our axis. You'll be the new center point."
"Copy that."
Amane, still lounging, raised an eyebrow. "And you're just… this calm? After two fights, a retreat, and half the school trying to turn this into a political bloodbath?"
"I'm used to pressure," Seraphina said quietly. "And I'm not here to win applause. I'm here to win."
There was a long pause.
Then Amane smiled.
"Remind me why I didn't join the student council again?"
"Because you said their uniforms were 'too authoritarian' and their tea selection was garbage."
"…Fair. Also, I like watching you get scared when you're strategizing. It's kind of hot."
Seraphina blinked once. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that."
"No, you won't."
A soft chime interrupted their exchange as the map pulsed—new intel incoming.
A mysterious marker had appeared near the abandoned clock tower zone. Faint. Flickering.
Seraphina stared at it.
"What's that?" Amane asked, standing now.
"I don't know," Seraphina said slowly. "But it wasn't there before."
She reached out and marked the location with a golden rune.
"New directive," she murmured. "We investigate that signal last. I have a feeling… that's not part of Reignar's plan."
In the quiet hum of the Research Club's war room, Seraphina stood tall.
The battlefield shifted.
The players moved.
And the queen, calm bene
west corridor
The west corridor groaned.
It didn't just creak or rumble—it groaned like a wounded beast trying to breathe through shattered lungs. Walls pulsed faintly, like veins twitching beneath diseased skin. Doors contorted into wrong angles, frozen mid-swing between open and closed. Hinges moaned. Lights overhead flickered in jittery white and blue rhythms like time glitching.
Ayaka Ryuzen crouched above it all, balanced perfectly on a fractured support beam, her coat trailing behind her like a torn banner. Her crimson eyes gleamed under the pale, broken lights.
"This corridor… it's half-dream, half-nightmare," she muttered, her voice low enough to drown beneath the hum of warped energy.
Below, two of Reignar's pawns moved with eerie symmetry. Their armored cloaks rustled as they advanced, and twin spears were held in mirrored grips. Their eyes flicked side to side, alert and professional.
"They're synced," Ayaka whispered. "Military-style pairing. One disrupts, the other finishes."
Perched on a half-crushed stairwell railing beside her, Riku Shinseira said nothing at first. She observed, her hood casting a deep shadow over her unreadable face.
Her fingers rested on the hilt of her blade, but her presence was quiet—like moonlight through a cracked window.
"I'll take the left," she finally said. "You handle the loud one."
Ayaka raised an eyebrow. "The arrogant one with three cloaks and enough hair wax to start a fire?"
"Exactly."
A beat of silence passed. Then:
"Three steps," Ayaka murmured.
Two.
One.
"Now."
She dropped like a thunderbolt.
No theatrics. No declarations. Just precision. Her boot, wreathed in a shimmer of barrier energy, collided with the first pawn's ribs.
CRACK.
The girl flew, her body slamming into the warped wall hard enough to scatter dust and fragmented enchantments. Her spear clattered across the floor.
Riku followed a heartbeat later. Her descent was so fluid that she looked like a wisp of wind-given form. Her blade moved faster than a blink—three cuts in less than a second.
The second pawn froze.
Then dropped.
Three faintly glowing runes blinked along her limbs—binding her body and muting her magic.
She hadn't even screamed.
Ayaka landed in a crouch, hair tousled by the residual energy in the air. She raised her hand.
Four fingers extended.
Flash.
Symbols ignited at both ends of the corridor. Lines twisted through the air like neon vines.
Spatial Lockdown Activated.
"Welcome to the funhouse," Ayaka said dryly, dusting her gloves. "No exits. No refunds."
The first pawn groaned, still conscious but dazed. She struggled upright, blood at her lip.
"You devils…"
"No," Riku said calmly, stepping forward, her movements crisp and calculated. "We're researchers."
Ayaka smirked. "With a PhD in erasing problems."
The pawn lunged, her spear spinning in defiance.
Ayaka pivoted, ducked low, and drove her knee into the girl's gut.
The air whooshed from her lungs.
Riku moved past Ayaka without pause and brought her blade down at a precise angle—not fatal, just enough to slice through the boot and pin her to the ground.
She dropped, paralyzed.
Still breathing. Still alive.
The corridor returned to silence; its previous shrieks now echo.
Riku knelt and wiped her blade clean.
Ayaka exhaled, surveying the two bodies with grim satisfaction.
"Two pawns. Eliminated."
"Efficiently," Riku agreed.
Ayaka glanced toward the sealed end of the corridor. "I placed a Gravity Pit rune earlier in case they bolted. Would've crushed their legs like sticks."
Riku tilted her head. "And if I had landed a second too late?"
Ayaka gave a sharp grin. "Then you'd be limping. But you weren't. Because we're perfect."
"You're reckless."
"You're cautious."
A breath of silence.
Then, faint smiles.
The corridor began to stabilize. The distorted walls straightened, and the lights steadied. Reality slowly reclaimed the space.
Ayaka cracked her neck. "Sending the signal to Seraphina."
Riku nodded. "Already did. She'll redirect the others. This route's clean."
Ayaka paused, caught off guard by the quiet confidence in Riku's voice.
"She's good at seeing the board."
"So are you," Riku said, almost as an afterthought.
Ayaka blinked.
She wasn't used to compliments, especially from Riku.
She masked her flinch with a shrug. "Well, I am the Vice Devil President. It comes with perks. Like nightmares. And paperwork."
They moved toward the exit. Under Ayaka's touch, the spatial lock peeled away, unraveling into shimmering threads.
Behind them, the two pawns remained suspended in stasis, unconscious and bound.
Mission complete.
No applause. No drama. Just clean execution.
As they stepped into the next hallway, Ayaka pulled out a rune mirror and tapped it.
"West corridor secured. Two neutralized. No injuries. Moving to the next objective."
Seraphina's voice came through moments later.
"Understood. Regroup with Team Gamma near the north stairwell. We detected unknown energy near the clocktower."
Ayaka raised an eyebrow. "Unknown?"
"Not Reignar's. Not ours. Possibly a third party."
Riku stiffened. "Another faction?"
"Possibly. Be cautious."
Ayaka clicked the mirror shut. "Clocktower, huh? Things just got spicy."
She looked at Riku. "Race you there?"
Riku gave a tiny nod. "Try to keep up."
They disappeared into the corridor's embrace.
Behind them, the broken space was sealed.
The thorns had struck.
The war wasn't over.
It was only evolving.
The battlefield was alive—and it belonged to Seraphina Falcor.
In the center of the Research Club's command room, the golden map pulsed like a living heart. Light lines traced across the Academy blueprint, marking secured zones and active combatants. Blue runes—her peerage—lit up corridor after corridor, a visual symphony of coordination and precision.
"West corridor sealed," Ayaka's voice came through telepathically. "Two down. No casualties."
"North tower under control," Miya followed. "Team Delta is holding the perimeter."
"Gym's ours too," Eiji chimed in, annoyingly smug. "And I only got slapped once this time. Progress."
Amane laughed softly beside Seraphina, but Seraphina herself didn't smile. Not yet. She stood over the projection like a monarch overseeing her empire.
The pieces were all moving.
Her formation was near perfect.
And Reignar's remaining forces? Isolated. Pinned.
"We're nearly there," she said quietly. "Sweep from the west and northeast, converging in ten minutes. Once we eliminate the last two squads, we'll force a forfeit or trigger the final duel."
Amane leaned on the desk beside her, arms crossed. "You look like you already won."
"I haven't," Seraphina replied. "Not until Reignar bows."
She extended her hand, weaving new commands into the map. Runes shifted. Units aligned.
It was beautiful.
Clean. Methodical. Controlled.
Like a queen pulling her trap closed around the king.
And for the first time since the battle began, she let herself believe they would win.
Meanwhile…
Silence ruled far across campus beneath the eastern greenhouse in a sealed training vault.
No flickering lights. There is no battlefield chatter—just the subtle hum of containment wards and the low ticking of an ornate wall clock.
Reignar Ignidrath sat alone in the command chair of his war room, a pristine black-glass table before him. The magical feed of the match hovered in the air, showing the damage, losses, and sealed zones.
West corridor, North wing, Gym, all them are now in Seraphina palms, he said in an Amused Voice.
He watched it all.
And it didn't blink once.
A voice finally stirred the silence.
"She's confident."
Reignar didn't respond right away. His gaze shifted from the feed… to the figure seated beside him.
A woman.
Long legs crossed, her back impossibly straight. She was dressed in crimson-black battle robes, her face partly veiled behind a silver chain mask. Her posture was regal—almost bored—but her presence was anything but.
Ruria.
Reignar's Queen.
Her eyes flicked toward him, unreadable. "She thinks she has us trapped."
"She's not wrong," Reignar said finally. His voice was calm and clinical. "She is controlling the board."
The other girl in the room—slighter, younger, seated on the lower dais—shifted. Her hands clutched a spellbook, but she hadn't moved all game. A Bishop? A Knight? No one was sure. Not even the spectators had seen her act.
Not yet.
Reignar stood, his long coat rippling as he moved toward the edge of the strategy pool. The glass lit up beneath his steps.
"She forced me to lose six pieces to test her tempo," he murmured. "And now she thinks I've run out of breath."
Ruria tilted her head just slightly. "Haven't you?"
Reignar smiled faintly.
"No."
He turned, his eyes meeting hers beneath the veil of half-light.
"Shall we proceed to Phase Two?"
He extended his hand toward her, palm up, like a man offering both dance and execution.
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"Your turn is up, my Queen... Ruria."
The silver chains on her veil shimmered.
And slowly—elegantly—she rose.
To be continued…