Chapter 27 - Martial Arts 2

The match began with a one-sided onslaught from Siren. Her blade moved without pause, driving Ash back.

"Just as I thought. What is that? All he does is block."

Nymph, a member of Witchcraft, snorted. Beside her, Lamia looked at her PDA with a satisfied smile.

"Don't be so hard on him. He's getting us plenty of views, isn't he?"

Even now, donations and chat messages were flooding the PDA's screen. Lamia's smile only deepened.

"An event like this isn't bad. A shame for them, though."

Lamia jerked her chin toward the people standing opposite them—Ash's team.

As she said, the mood on their side was the complete opposite.

"M-Mister...!"

Akina covered her mouth with trembling hands, while Jack and Dullahan shook their heads as if they could not bear to watch.

There was just one exception.

Ifrit watched the spar with scarcely any change in her expression, heart-shaped lights glowing in her eyes. Thanks to her custom artificial eyes, specialized for shooting, she could see something the others could not.

'No. Ash isn't being pushed back. If anything... '

He was overwhelming his opponent.

He was redirecting every one of Siren's attacks with the barest movements of his body and sword. It was a feat akin to diverting a mighty river's current with a single pebble.

'That's possible...? How?'

The sight was so far beyond her that she could not understand it even as she watched. For some reason, Ifrit felt as though goose bumps were rising all over her body.

'He's nothing but a monster...!'

Sure enough, a moment came when Siren lost her balance all on her own and fell to the floor. It happened the instant Ash took a step forward.

"... Huh? What?"

Nymph blurted out in confusion. The chat, too, was covered in question marks in an instant.

Siren had been displaying overwhelming skill. Why had she fallen?

"Siren! What are you doing? Get up!"

Lamia shouted urgently, but Siren did not seem to hear. She simply remained where she had fallen, gazing blankly up at Ash with an unreadable mixture of fear and admiration.

Things were taking a strange turn.

"Goddammit...!"

This was hardly a display befitting the dignity of the number-one idol.

"Cut the stream! Now!"

Just as Witchcraft's channel hastily went offline at Nymph's shout, Ifrit called out from the opposite side.

"Jack! Start streaming! Right now!"

As Jack O' Lantern scrambled to launch his drone, Nymph and Lamia glared their way. Meeting their stares, Ifrit raised her middle finger.

"What, you bitches? You want us to keep all this fun to ourselves? That's no way for idols to behave."

"Hehe! I told you, didn't I? My mister is super strong!"

"Damn right! Eyes down, you lot!"

[Turns out we were the winners all along lmao]

It was a crude taunt, but under the circumstances, it worked beautifully. The way Nymph's and Lamia's faces soured at the same time was proof enough.

Meanwhile, Jack O' Lantern finished setting up the stream and spoke.

"What should we call it? Something provocative would be good!"

"Obviously."

After a moment's thought, Ifrit snapped her fingers.

"Let's go with 'Siren Is Too Easy.' Put Witchcraft in the tags, too. Now that their stream's off, we can get all their viewers over here."

"Hahaha! I like it!"

A pumpkin-shaped drone resembling Jack O' Lantern took to the air. At that very moment, cooling vapor enveloped Siren's entire body.

* * *

"Here I come!"

Siren emerged from the thick sea mist, her cry almost musical.

Her speed truly was incomparable to before. Trailing a blue afterimage, she hurtled toward Ash.

CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!

These were the merciless slashes Ifrit had warned him about—ten or more in a single second.

The ferocious assault was indeed on an entirely different level. As dazzling flourishes and tremendous force met overwhelming speed, the clumsy openings in her swordplay rapidly closed.

This was the true ability of Halloween's number-one idol.

A veritable calamity of sword strikes, impossible to block even if one saw them coming.

Ash had been waiting for this very moment.

In truth, credits were not the only reason he had initiated this strange wagered spar.

He did not want someone as unpredictable and seemingly unstable as Siren at his back. Through the wager, he had intended to narrow her options and keep her actions within predictable bounds.

Thus, Ash had originally meant to demand Siren's right arm as his prize—far too heavy a stake for a mere sparring match.

If she refused, so much the better. If she accepted, that was fine as well. He would then be able to fulfill Ifrit's wish.

That had been the plan.

But after hearing Ifrit's advice, he had decided to alter it slightly.

'Swinging a sword through data stored in an arm? What manner of bizarre practice is this?'

To Ash, it had been a profound shock.

For someone who had spent his entire life with a sword, swordplay that relied on mere data and programs was nothing short of a desecration of martial arts.

To speak of the sword with such paltry tricks?

How dare she?

Just as the Halloween Society was blindly devoted to the single value of popularity, Ash, too, held one value above all others.

Martial arts.

And so, Ash changed his plan.

He would shatter it all.

So that everyone might be freed from that arm's curse.

CRACKLE!

Blue lightning flashed in Ash's optical sensors. That was not the only change. Blue sparks flickered again and again across his steel body.

His Neuro Internal Art was fully unleashed.

The lightning energy coursing through his artificial neural network pushed all his processing power and his body's synchronization rate to their limits.

Even now, Siren's sword strikes were pouring down like a sudden shower. Ash faced them with electricity rippling through his optical sensors.

CLANG!

Her frost-coated blade collided with his sparking sword. The explosive impact echoed through the cavern.

Across their crossed blades, Ash and Siren looked into each other's eyes.

"Heh, hehe...! How's that? Am I a little more worth watching now?"

Ash answered her.

"Truly splendid swordsmanship."

"Hehe, isn't—"

"Indeed, Undine must have been an extraordinary swordswoman."

"... Pardon?"

"But where is your own will?"

Siren's face gradually stiffened.

"Who, exactly, am I fighting?"

It seemed he had struck a nerve.

Her expression twisted at once.

"... Don't speak as though you know everything! Even if it is you, Mr. Ash, that's..."

"Words have no power. Least of all those of someone holding a sword."

"... Grr!"

She swung her blade with renewed ferocity.

Every attack followed precisely the same trajectory as before, as though measured with a ruler. The speed and power within them, however, were on an entirely different level.

CLANG-CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!

The two swords met and parted at tremendous speed. Their movements were already beyond what ordinary eyes could follow.

Amid her ceaseless sword dance, madness shone in Siren's eyes. Anger and the desire to prove herself were overflowing.

Ash, too, stared down his opponent.

A steadfast will—the very wellspring of life, astonishingly enough—radiated from his steel optical sensors.

As those teal sensors flashed, Ash stepped willingly into the onrushing storm of blades.

These were Dragon-Form Steps performed at close range. The uncanny footwork slid him into positions on every side, parting the thick sea mist and rendering every attack futile.

He evaded each strike by a paper's breadth—a display truly worthy of being called an art.

"...!"

Siren's eyes filled with shock.

She had never seen or heard of anything like this.

To evade every strike in such a dense barrage through nothing but shifts of the body and changes in balance!

The pride that had slowly begun to swell within her vanished like a candle in the wind, and countless error messages filled the void.

Confronted with movements unlike anything she had ever seen, the many combat processors that had supported her until now had frozen.

Never before had she faced an opponent whose movements were so strange that she could not predict even the next instant.

Neither Siren.

Nor Undine.

And so, every system errored out at once.

[ERROR!]

[UNIDENTIFIED MOVEMENT PATTERN]

[COMBAT PROTOCOL NOT FOUND]

[SYSTEM OVERLOAD. . .]

[SHUTTING DOWN. . .]

CLUNK.

Amid the red flashing error messages, Siren's entire body suddenly jerked. The sword assault that had seemed to split into dozens of incoming paths vanished in an instant.

"Huh? Wh-what? Why is this...?"

It was absurd.

With no data available, her combat protocols had frozen, bringing everything about Siren to a halt.

Simply because they had detected movements they had never encountered before.

This had evidently never happened to Siren, either. She was utterly flustered.

Ash watched her for a moment, then lowered his sword.

"Truly, this is beyond a joke."

"M-Mr. Ash! Wait! Why is this..."

"I shall ask you once more."

His low electronic voice rang out.

"Who am I fighting?"

His quiet words lodged in her mind.

"You? Or that arm?"

A brief question.

It tore through Siren's thoughts.

In truth, Siren genuinely loved the sword. She had also been a fan of the Elementary Girls.

Of Undine, to be precise.

Watching Undine roam the ruins with only a sword to rely upon, she had been a girl who dreamed of becoming a Pathfinder.

Then, by chance, she had acquired Undine's arm.

The legacy of the immensely popular idol was exceptional in every respect. Its basic specifications were remarkable, as were its stored combat data and programs.

Even without any particular effort or attention on Siren's part, the arm had taken care of everything.

And so Siren had become an idol, then risen to number one.

Ridiculously enough, she had believed those accomplishments were all her own. Until mere moments ago.

["Who, exactly, am I fighting?"]

Her fame had been built on strength that was not hers. Only now was Siren realizing it.

An old memory flashed through her mind.

A shabby back alley in Sanctum.

There she was, swinging an old metal pipe like a sword, imitating Undine's movements in a hologram.

Back then, she had possessed neither data nor cyberware.

Only a pure admiration for the sword.

"Would you like to continue?"

Ash's question pulled her from her thoughts.

Siren slowly raised her head.

Teal optical sensors and black eyes gazed at one another.

"... May I?"

"Of course."

Ash raised his sword again.

"This is a wagered spar, is it not? We must determine the victor."

"Hasn't that already been decided?"

"Then will you concede defeat?"

Siren accessed her system.

[ALL COMBAT SYSTEMS OFFLINE]

Then she completely shut down every combat processor that had supported her.

Her blue-glowing tattoo returned to its original color. Her body's jerking motions also stopped.

Siren drew a great, deep breath, like someone breathing for the very first time.

"No. I haven't even started yet."

"That is the spirit."

Siren raised her blade once more.

Then she charged toward Ash and swung.

It was a crude, clumsy attack, with none of the near-miraculous speed or sharpness she had displayed before.

But Ash could tell.

Her blade was finally beginning to carry her will.

In her own way, she was adjusting its path and correcting her balance to break through his defenses, struggling to move forward, however little at a time.

As he watched, a faint chuckle escaped Ash's voice module for the first time.

"That is it."

For the first time, Ash launched an attack.

His slow-moving sword traced a gentle arc and met Siren's blade.

The dance of the machine and the witch continued for a long while after that.