Although Mahiro had only borrowed Kudou-senpai's name as a shield to keep Mayumi from prying too deeply, it wasn't because he wanted to deceive her maliciously. There was simply no other way.
What good would it do if Mayumi truly discovered the truth? In the end, it would only bring her unnecessary worries and trouble.
Time, as always, pressed forward.
By the time the semifinals of the Icicle Attack and Defense event began, the stands were still packed to the brim with students, teachers, and even outside observers. The air was buzzing, but unlike the lively cheers of the previous day, the atmosphere today was different—quieter, filled with hushed whispers and sidelong glances.
Especially when the audience caught sight of Yotsuba Mahiro, standing on the competition stage in his distinctive engineer's uniform.
"Heh, what's he acting so smug about? Isn't he just some guy with a single A-class destructive spell?" "Idiot, haven't you heard? The committee officially upgraded that spell of his to tactical-class magic! It's been banned from use in the tournament." "Seriously? Then he can't use it at all? Hah! So how's he planning to fight now?" "Fufufu, this is going to be fun to watch~"
The whispers weren't loud individually, but the combined murmur of so many voices made them impossible to ignore.
Seated in the audience, Shibata Mizuki and Chiba Erika were chatting with Mibu Sayaka, who had come to watch the match. Sayaka's brow furrowed as fragments of the audience's gossip reached her ears.
Turning sharply, she glared at the whispering students behind her before asking those around her: "Hey… what are they talking about? What magic got banned by the committee?"
The question instantly made Miyuki, Kitayama Shizuku, and Honoka stiffen. As competitors themselves, they knew the truth, but none of them dared to answer. Instead, they all lowered their gazes, the silence itself speaking volumes.
Miyuki's delicate hands tightened around the fabric of her skirt. To her, what the organizing committee had done was nothing short of outrageous! To label Mahiro-kun's magic as tactical-class and forbid its use—it was an insult, a deliberate act of sabotage.
Yet even so, she had faith.
Just as she had declared yesterday: even if Mahiro-kun could not use Scattering Mist, he had countless other spells at his disposal. He would silence these doubters with his own overwhelming power!
Sayaka, still confused, looked expectantly for an explanation.
At that moment, Erika gently patted her shoulder and said with an almost teasing smile: "Saya-chan, it's no wonder you don't know. Just last night, the Nine Schools Competition announced it officially: Yotsuba-kun's magic was reclassified as tactical-class and banned from use."
"What?! That's ridiculous! How could they possibly do something so unfair?!"
Sayaka's reaction mirrored exactly how the others had felt when they first heard the news: stunned, indignant, and utterly furious.
Even if she wasn't a direct participant in the Nine Schools Competition, she had seen enough matches to understand the rules. The Icicle Attack and Defense event had never restricted the level of magic allowed. To suddenly impose such a rule now, and only on one student—it was clear as day.
This was outright targeting!
"But… why Mahiro-kun? Why target him specifically?" Mizuki muttered in frustration, her kind eyes filled with confusion.
Erika sighed, tossing her short hair with an almost bitter smile. "Mizuki, you're too pure. This is the adult world we're talking about—dirty politics, hidden agendas, schemes we can't see. That's just how it is."
Still, she softened her voice and added, "But Saya-chan, don't worry so much. Look at him. Yotsuba-kun's standing out there completely calm. He doesn't look troubled at all, right?"
Indeed, Mahiro's figure on the stage was utterly composed. He stood tall, his expression unreadable, as though the petty schemes of the committee and the whispers of the crowd were nothing but wind.
His opponent, on the other hand, was already smirking with confidence.
"Hah! Too bad for you, Yotsuba. Your trump card has been banned! What now? Just give up and get eliminated!"
With that taunt, the opposing student activated his CAD. A massive magic circle flared to life, scattering light particles across the battlefield like a glimmering veil of snow. The spell was seconds away from completion—
—until it shattered.
Spell Dismantlement.
Crack!
Like glass breaking, the elaborate magic collapsed instantly, leaving only fragments of fading light in the air.
The entire audience roared in shock.
"Was that… un-systematic anti-magic? Spell Dismantlement?!" "But how?! That was a large-scale formation—how could he dismantle it with just one burst of psions?!"
Confusion swept through the stands. But before anyone could recover, a wave of scorching heat rolled across the arena.
"Muspelheim."
Azure flames erupted, blanketing the battlefield. The heat was so intense that even the audience seats began to shimmer faintly, the oppressive temperature pressing against everyone's skin.
"So powerful…"
Even Shizuku, usually calm and composed, was forced to murmur in awe. Casting such large-scale magic so effortlessly—it was mesmerizing. Her heart skipped a beat as she gazed at the boy on stage, his short hair tousled by the hot wind, his eyes sharp, his expression unshaken.
"Y-yes… Mahiro-kun really is incredible…" Honoka whispered, her lips slightly parted. As someone with a natural affinity for light-element magic, she could clearly see the psion flow surrounding him. His control was flawless, precise, almost artistic.
On the field, Mahiro's opponent was trembling. Sweat poured down his face, whether from fear or from the unbearable heat, no one could tell. He desperately tapped at his CAD, summoning ice after ice to counter, but every single spell shattered the moment it formed—dismantled effortlessly by Mahiro's anti-magic.
His icicles melted one after another, until he was left defenseless.
"Unbelievable…" someone in the audience whispered.
To win in such a cruel, one-sided fashion—and to retaliate not with brute strength, but by stripping away the very hope of his opponent—the sight of Yotsuba Mahiro's upright back sent a chill down the spectators' spines.
He wasn't just strong. He was terrifying.
Like a demon walking among them.
But for Mahiro, this was only the beginning.
Since the committee loved restricting magic, he simply refused to repeat the same strategy. Instead, he continued to invent new, merciless combinations each round:
"Ice-Flame Hell"—a waltz of burning heat and freezing cold, twinned with Spell Dismantlement. "Ice Mist Divine Realm"—a wide-area vibration-deceleration spell fused with "Epicenter," capped off with Spell Dismantlement. Even an advanced variant of "Sonomaiser," turned into a satellite-like beam of destruction, layered with Multiple Casting and, of course, Spell Dismantlement.
Every time it was Mahiro's turn, the result was the same: instant annihilation.
The audience could only sit in numb disbelief. The defeated players muttered complaints endlessly, yet there was nothing they could do. The protests grew so loud that even the operations committee was forced to step in.
Once again, they shamefully banned Spell Dismantlement.
It was forbidden to use in the Icicle Offensive and Defensive finals.
But the ban was too late. Mahiro had already cut down everyone in his path, and only the final battle remained.
The countdown on the massive display reached zero.
"First High School VS Third High School!"
As expected, standing across from Mahiro was Ichijo Masaki, the proud heir who had so arrogantly challenged him in the hotel corridor the night before.
It hadn't been a conversation. It had been a declaration.
"I'll crush you in the finals."
Mahiro could still remember the heat in Masaki's eyes when he said it. And it wasn't just Masaki—George, too, had been full of determination. The Third High wasn't here to participate. They were here to win.
Yet, now that they stood face to face, there was no need for words.
The match began with a thunderous crack.
Ichijo Masaki instantly unleashed his family's secret art—Explosion. The destructive blast collided with Mahiro's defense, shattering one of his icicles.
"Wha—!?"
The audience erupted in shock. This was the first icicle Mahiro had ever lost since the tournament began.
Could Ichijo Masaki actually defeat this monster?
The answer was obvious.
"No chance," Mahiro muttered under his breath, lips curling slightly.
He hadn't even decided on the best spell to use yet. But now, a spark of inspiration struck him.
"Got it."
The next Explosion surged forth, aiming for another icicle. But just as it seemed it would shatter—Mahiro's magic flared.
—"Information Body Reinforcement!"—
The weakened icicle suddenly stabilized, the information body itself reinforced rather than the destructive spell dismantled.
Masaki's eyes narrowed. "Tch… so that's how it is."
This wasn't destruction. This was overwriting. Covering the fundamental structure of the target itself.
Impressive. But Masaki wasn't about to yield.
His CAD flared again as he rapid-fired. Ten shots of Explosion magic roared forward in an instant, one after another.
"Let's see you block this!"
The crowd gasped at the overwhelming barrage.
But Mahiro didn't so much as flinch. He ignored the detonating icicles completely, and under the gaze of thousands, drew a second CAD from his waist holster—a dagger-like device, gleaming ominously.
It was the twin to his "Night Demon."
Holding it with calm precision, Mahiro swung the blade horizontally through the air. The arc seemed to slice through space itself.
"MetroLine."
The word echoed like a death sentence.
From beneath his feet, an endless darkness spread outward like a tide, devouring the entire arena in seconds. It surged up the walls, cloaked the ceiling, and swallowed the world in a suffocating void.
The field was drowned in shadow.
And then—light.
Particles of starlight scattered through the darkness, drifting like falling snow. From above, beams of light rained down, divine and merciless, like judgment from the heavens themselves.
"Is this… magic?" someone whispered in awe.
It wasn't just magic.
It was Yotsuba Mahiro, showing the world why they whispered his name like that of a demon.