Under the eager anticipation of the crowd, the men's preliminary round of Icicle Offensive and Defensive finally began. The arena buzzed with excitement, but that energy quickly shifted into disbelief the moment a certain figure stepped onto the stage.
"Oi, oi, oi! Are you kidding me?!" "Wait… is that guy a Magical Engineering Technician?" "No way! What kind of sick joke is this?!"
Shouts of protest echoed from the stands, some spectators practically demanding refunds.
Even Erika-chan and the others watching from the sidelines were dumbfounded.
"Seriously, why did Mahiro-kun wear that to the competition? Isn't this, like… totally mocking everyone?" Erika muttered, clutching her forehead.
"True," Shizuku said softly, a faint smile tugging her lips, "but it's also very much Mahiro-san's style."
On the stage, Yotsuba Mahiro stood with a completely unbothered look, wearing a plain technical division jacket—the type engineers wore.
Icicle Offensive and Defensive was different from other events. Contestants were allowed to wear whatever would boost morale, so most came out in flashy uniforms or stylized outfits. At times, the matches even felt more like fashion shows than magical contests.
But this? Wearing a technician's jacket onto the field… this was the first time in Nine Schools Competition history.
Mahiro shrugged it off. What else was he supposed to wear? Aside from his uniform, he hadn't brought extra clothes, and honestly—he was way too lazy to change.
"George," a voice whispered in the stands, "that's him, right? The temporary engineer from First High?"
"Yes," George nodded, pushing up his glasses. "I looked into it. His name is Yotsuba Mahiro. They say he's the so-called 'discarded child' of the Yotsuba Family. Masaki, he'll probably be your biggest rival in this event."
"I know."
Ichijō Masaki, heir of the Ichijō Family, responded calmly, but his eyes were fixed on Mahiro with a serious intensity.
The Yotsuba Family… the most mysterious and feared among the Ten Master Clans. A magician from that lineage couldn't be underestimated.
Meanwhile, the Ninth High contestant standing across from Mahiro looked like he was about to explode. His face shifted from pale green to angry red as he clenched his fists.
"To think they'd send a Magical Engineering Technician against me… You're mocking me! Looking down on me! I'll make you regret this, bastard!"
"Eh?" Mahiro blinked, tilting his head. "What's this guy mumbling about?"
Before the angry contestant could continue ranting, the buzzer signaled the official start of the match.
Mahiro didn't hesitate. In one smooth motion, he pulled out his CAD, Night Demon, aimed it at the opposing field, and pulled the trigger.
— Multiple Simultaneous Activation — Concurrent Cast — Scattering Mist, deploy!
A white mist billowed across the field.
The audience gasped, unable to process what just happened. In an instant, the twelve ice pillars on Ninth High's field disintegrated into molecular dust, dissolving into the air like fragile glass under a hammer.
The Ninth High contestant was caught in the lingering cold mist, stunned. But before he could even react—
Bzzzt!
The broadcast system blared:
"Match over. Winner: First High!"
"What the—?!" "H-how?!" "I don't even get what just happened!"
The stands erupted in shock. Nobody understood.
"…It's over? Just like that?" "Yes. It's over."
Erika gawked, mouth hanging open. "Mahiro-kun, you… baka… that was insane!"
Shizuku, Honoka, Sayaka, and Mizuki exchanged wide-eyed glances. Not a single one of them had expected the match to end in less than ten seconds.
None of them even saw the exact process. One moment the icicles were there, the next—gone. Completely decomposed, as cleanly and decisively as when Mahiro had dismantled that car during the accident they encountered earlier.
And the next matches… were no different.
Instant kill. Instant kill. Still an instant kill!
No opponent lasted more than ten seconds. None could destroy even a single icicle on Mahiro's field. Even contestants who reinforced their pillars with Information Strengthening watched helplessly as their defenses dissolved like mist before the sun.
"Mahiro-niisan…" Miyuki covered her mouth in shock, her eyes sparkling. She hadn't expected him to unleash Scattering Mist openly in a public match.
But this—this was exactly the Yotsuba Mahiro in her heart.
Her niisan never cared about appearances or the opinions of others. If someone was an opponent, he would erase them without hesitation.
Of course, such a performance didn't go unnoticed.
...
After several preliminary matches ended, the predictable storm came. The competition committee quickly received a flood of complaints from the other schools.
Accusations rained down on First High for Mahiro's so-called "unauthorized" use of destructive, large-scale magic.
The committee members themselves broke into a cold sweat at the thought.
Technically, the Icicle Attack and Defense event had no restrictions on what kind of magic could be used. Even strategic-class magic was permitted—if one had the skill to wield it. That was the entire point of the Nine Schools Competition.
But when eight different high schools lodged complaints at once, the committee had no choice but to bow to pressure.
Not long after, the results of their discussion reached First High's camp.
"So the verdict is… I can't use Scattering Mist in the upcoming matches?" Mahiro's voice was low and unreadable.
"…Yes. I'm sorry, Mahiro-kun, but that's what they decided." Even Mayumi sighed with visible annoyance as she delivered the news.
To address the "unfairness" raised by other schools, the committee had forcibly reclassified Mahiro's magic—elevating Scattering Mist from an A-class destructive spell to a tactical-level technique!
Which was absurd. Its scale clearly wasn't anywhere near tactical magic.
"The committee really went too far this time," Suzune muttered, pushing her glasses up.
"Indeed," Mori-senpai added. "This is the first time in the history of the Nine Schools Competition that Icicle Attack and Defense has seen a magic banned for being 'too destructive.'"
Even Watanabe-senpai crossed her arms and scowled. "Their bias is showing. Way too blatant, if you ask me."
The air in the room was thick with dissatisfaction and helpless anger.
"What does it matter?"
Mahiro's voice broke the silence, calm and almost detached.
"They're just sore losers. What difference does it make if they ban Scattering Mist? Do they think that's the only spell I can use?"
He smiled faintly, but no one mistook it for genuine amusement. It was the stillness before a storm.
"If the other schools want to play this way," Mahiro continued, "they'd better not regret it in tomorrow's matches."
The atmosphere chilled instantly, sending a shiver down the spines of even his allies.
"Mahiro-kun, please don't be reckless," Mayumi urged, stepping forward anxiously. "Promise me you won't do something foolish, like confronting the committee directly…"
She knew his personality too well. Mahiro wasn't the type to simply swallow an insult. He was more than capable of making a move against the officials themselves.
But Mahiro only gave a small shrug and answered, "Don't worry, Mayumi-senpai. I won't. I'm not that much of a baka."
With that, the meeting ended. Mahiro excused himself and returned to the hotel.
The hallway was quiet as he made his way toward the elevators, but just as he reached out to press the button, two figures stepped forward, blocking his path.
Both wore Third High uniforms.
The taller of the two had sharp, aristocratic features and an air of natural arrogance—as though he had been raised to look down on others. His face was familiar. Mayumi had introduced him once before: Ichijo Masaki, heir of the prestigious Ichijo family. Nicknamed the "Crimson Prince," his magic affinity spoke for itself.
The other student was slightly shorter, but his aura was no less striking. His posture carried quiet confidence, shaped by training and discipline. His eyes were sharp, thoughtful, and a little challenging. Mahiro recognized the name from his briefing: Kichijoji Shinkurou, a prodigy known for his tactical insight.
It was clear these two hadn't been waiting for the elevator. They had been waiting for him.
"Yotsuba Mahiro," the taller one spoke first, his tone formal but laced with superiority. "I am Ichijo Masaki, first-year of Third High." His eyes bored straight into Mahiro's, as if demanding acknowledgment.
"I am also a first-year at Third High. My name is Kichijoji Shinkurou." The shorter student's tone was polite, but the subtle challenge in his gaze made his intent obvious.
They bore no open hostility, but neither were they offering friendship.
Mahiro inclined his head slightly in return, his voice steady. "Nice to meet you. I am Yotsuba Mahiro, representing First High."
Then, with a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips, he added:
"Judging from how you two came looking for me, I assume this isn't a casual greeting. So—do you have some business with me, Ichijo-san, Kichijoji-san?"