From the moment night enveloped the sky, a chilling pressure descended.
Almost everyone from the Ten Master Clans, the Eighteen Auxiliary Houses, and even Ichijo Masaki—who was still standing in the middle of the match—felt their scalps tingle and their bodies tremble as they instinctively looked up.
What they saw was not a simple night sky.
It was a deep, inky-black kekkai, a barrier that mimicked the heavens themselves. Thousands of dazzling stars flowed upon it, scattering trails of light like shooting stars streaking across the void—only to plunge downward as beams of destructive brilliance.
"Th-That's… the Night Queen, Yotsuba Maya-sama's magic—'Meteor Line'!"
Shock. Disbelief. Fear. The reaction was universal.
'Meteor Line' was not like ordinary magic. It was the ultimate trump card of one of the strongest magicians alive—Yotsuba Maya, the "Demon King of the Far East," feared and revered as the "Night Queen."
The technique ensnared its opponent inside a night barrier filled with innumerable orbs of light. Each orb could transform into a deadly ray, striking through its target without mercy.
It was said—even the Jumonji Family's famed Phalanx, known as the strongest shield in modern magic, could not withstand it.
And now… it was unfolding here, before their very eyes, in the middle of the Nine Schools Competition!
The operations committee could barely stand, their knees going weak as they recognized the weight of this moment. To them, 'Meteor Line' stood on nearly the same level as a Strategic-Class spell. And more terrifying still—it was the signature magic of the Yotsuba Family's head. Its appearance here was more than just shocking—it was monumental.
From the VIP seating, the elder magician Kushima Retsu, who had once taught Yotsuba Maya herself, narrowed his eyes, his face grim. Not a word escaped him.
On the arena floor, Shiba Tatsuya's expression hardened. "This power… it's even stronger than when Aunt used it herself."
Miyuki, frozen in place, could only stare, her lips parting in awe at the falling starlight. Her heart trembled in both admiration and disbelief.
The night curtain gradually dispersed. The starlit illusion faded.
And then came the referee's announcement—Ichijo Masaki's defeat.
The declaration rang across the stadium, but Miyuki was still lost in her thoughts. When she finally came back to her senses, her lips moved on their own, murmuring words she barely realized she had spoken aloud:
"…Mahiro-nii-san… actually used Aunt's magic…"
"Huh? Miyuki, what did you just say?"
Erika, sharp-eared as ever, leaned forward curiously. She had only caught the word "Aunt," and tilted her head in confusion.
Just then, from the back row, a silvery laugh rang out, elegant and playful.
"Hehehe… so this child has even learned that technique."
Miyuki's body stiffened instantly, trembling as though struck by lightning. Her blood ran cold.
Even Tatsuya reacted at once, his posture tightening as if preparing for battle against a supreme foe.
Slowly, they turned toward the voice.
And there she was.
An elegant and noble woman, sitting gracefully just three rows away, as though the entire arena belonged to her. Her long, silky black hair was tied into a loose ponytail, cascading like the night itself. An elderly butler stood beside her, respectfully holding a black parasol above her head to block the sunlight.
Her dark dress, though conservative, did nothing to hide her enchanting curves. Her face—bewitching, with lips tinted a deep crimson—curved into a smile that was both alluring and commanding. She radiated a charm that could belong to a young maiden not yet twenty, yet also the mature elegance of a queen.
She was beauty and darkness personified.
"As radiant as the night sky itself…" someone whispered unconsciously.
"Long time no see, Miyuki. And Tatsuya," she said softly, her voice like velvet.
"A-Aunt…-sama," Miyuki stammered, her disbelief plain.
There was no mistake. The woman before them was none other than the current head of the Yotsuba Family—Yotsuba Maya.
But why? Why would Aunt-sama appear here, at the Nine Schools Competition venue, of all places?
Not only that—seated beside her was another girl.
Dressed in a dark crimson gown, with long black hair and wine-red eyes, she carried herself with an elegance that mirrored Maya-sama herself. Her resemblance was uncanny—almost seventy percent alike.
"Long time no see, Miyuki-oneechan, and Tatsuya-san," the girl said with a bright smile, lifting her hand in greeting.
Miyuki's breath caught. "…Ayako? Even you're here…?"
Her bewildered gaze shifted again—only to land on yet another figure. And when she saw her, Miyuki nearly cried out, covering her mouth with both hands.
"No way… it's impossible!"
That face—those features—it was as if she were staring at Sakurai Honami, the woman who had once protected her mother.
The girl bowed politely, a soft smile on her lips. "It is an honor. I am Sakurai Minami."
Miyuki's chest tightened, her mind whirling with disbelief.
"Hmm~ Found it," Maya-sama's voice cut through the commotion.
She rose gracefully, her heels clicking sharply against the steps. Each crisp note echoed through the stadium like a strike to the heart. The crowd instinctively hushed.
Ignoring Miyuki's startled gaze and Tatsuya's tense vigilance, Maya-sama moved gracefully forward until she stood directly in front of Sayaka.
Sayaka froze under the scrutiny of this elegant woman. She didn't know her, yet somehow she felt an inexplicable sense of pressure—as if this woman had a deep connection to Mahiro-kun.
Her suspicions only grew when she finally dared to look up. In those dark pupils staring into her own, she saw a reflection that seemed… the same as Mahiro-kun's eyes. That resemblance struck her like lightning.
The elegant woman tilted her head slightly, as though appraising a jewel, the curve of her lips deepening into an amused smile.
"You must be Mibu Sayaka, right?" Yotsuba Maya's voice was like velvet—rich, alluring, intoxicating to the ear.
"Ah… yes, I am Mibu Sayaka, h-hello…" Sayaka stammered, her palms slick with nervous sweat.
"Your taste isn't bad." Maya-sama's amused chuckle slipped out as she took in Sayaka's flustered demeanor. "But there's no need to be so stiff. As you can see… I am Yotsuba Maya, head of the Yotsuba Family, and also Mahiro-kun's… mother."
Her words fell like a thunderclap.
...
The competition concluded soon after. The results for the boys' group were officially announced:
Champion: First High School, Yotsuba Mahiro
Runner-up: Third High School, Ichijou Masaki
Third Place: First High School, Hattori Gyobu-shosuke Hanzo
The crowd erupted into cheers.
Yotsuba Mahiro, who had defied the unfair restrictions imposed by the operating committee, had emerged as the undisputed champion of the Icicle Offensive and Defensive event. The cheers were thunderous, applause echoing through the venue like a storm of approval.
Regardless of their school or affiliation, everyone had to admit—they were convinced by his strength.
By the time Mahiro walked out from the competitors' tunnel, the entrance was already overflowing with First High students. Those who weren't competing had rushed over, and even casual spectators had gathered.
They were all there to welcome their hero.
"Congratulations, Mahiro-kun, on winning the championship!"
"Mahiro, congrats!"
The first to rush up were Honoka and Kitayama Shizuku, their faces glowing with excitement. They had clearly been waiting for him.
Mahiro scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "I say… isn't this a little too much? It's not that serious, right?"
From his childhood until now—even including his previous life—he had never once been surrounded and celebrated like this. The attention made him feel strangely out of place.
"Of course it's serious!" Mayumi-chan stepped forward from the front of the crowd, her bright eyes fixed on him with admiration—and maybe just a hint of something gentler. "The match was amazing. Everyone's still buzzing with excitement!"
"But it was tough on you, Mahiro-kun," she added with a note of concern. "For First High's victory, you even used that magic."
"Yes, Saegusa is right," came the deep, solemn voice of Juumonji Katsuto as he pushed forward. With his thick eyebrows and stern expression, his presence commanded respect. "It was no easy feat to endure the committee's unfair restrictions and still defeat Ichijou Masaki. First High owes you its gratitude."
Mahiro caught the profound weight in Juumonji's gaze, but all he could do was shrug casually.
The "magic" they were referring to, of course, was the Meteor Swarm he had unleashed to overwhelm Ichijou Masaki at the finale. He'd cast it on a whim, but now…
Tch… don't tell me that one move caused such a huge stir throughout the entire Nine Schools Competition? It can't be that big a deal, right?
Mahiro could only sigh inwardly.