The two were about to duel.
A deep tension filled the grand arena of Hagun Academy, the air vibrating faintly with magic energy. The stands were packed with students and teachers, all holding their breaths as they gazed at the two figures on the field — Principal Kurono Shinguuji, and the man known as Haruto Amakawa.
In the audience, Stella fidgeted nervously, clutching the hem of her uniform.
> Stella: "What should I do…? Haruto's about to fight the principal!"
Her voice trembled with anxiety, breaking the silence of the group chat that linked them all together.
> Akame: "A fight?"
Frieren: "Wasn't it supposed to be a negotiation? How did this turn into a duel?"
The calmness in Frieren's tone only made Stella more flustered.
> Stella: "I don't know either! He… he made a wager with the principal because of me."
Megumi Kato: "A wager? What kind?"
Stella: "It's… a slave-like wager."
Her voice cracked.
> Mai Sakurajima: "A slave? Stella, are you serious?"
Stella: "Yes! They agreed that the loser must completely obey the winner's commands… What do I do now?"
---
In her apartment, Mai Sakurajima was taking a warm bath when the words hit her like a thunderbolt.
The steam in the bathroom curled around her pale shoulders as she abruptly stood up. Water rolled down the smooth lines of her body, catching the soft light as it dripped to the floor. But she didn't care — her thoughts were consumed by a single name.
Haruto Amakawa… What were you thinking?
Her heart pounded, not from embarrassment but from worry. The idea of him wagering his freedom so recklessly made her stomach twist.
---
Across the city, Megumi Kato sat quietly at her desk, her phone glowing faintly in the dim light. Her calm expression betrayed a deep thoughtfulness.
So he made that bet… There must be a reason.
Yet, as she re-read Mai's reaction, Megumi noticed something else — the way Mai said his name. A small smile tugged at her lips.
It seems I'll need to be more proactive from now on.
---
Back in the chat:
> Saeko Busujima: "Stella, calm down. If Haruto agreed, he must have a plan. He's not someone who plays games he can't win."
Ayame Yomogawa: "I trust Haruto-sama too."
Frieren: "@Stella, instead of worrying, why not just stream it for us?"
Akame: "Good idea. A live duel between strong opponents sounds fun."
Stella: "Alright, I'll do that!"
[Ding! Stella has started a live stream.]
---
The image appeared instantly in their shared window — the vast colosseum bathed in bright magic light, its marble floor engraved with runic circles.
> Frieren: "Oh, it's already started?"
The duel had begun.
Kurono Shinguuji stood poised, her black coat fluttering faintly as she held two sleek, silver handguns — her Inherent Devices, the manifestation of a Blazer's soul. In ancient times, such weapons were called divine arms or holy blades, but in this age, they were the true marks of a Blazer's power.
She raised her left gun.
Bang!
A light bullet shot out, crackling with temporal distortion. Under normal laws of physics, it should've slowed — but instead, it accelerated midair, tripling in speed as it bent the air around it.
Haruto's eyes followed it lazily.
A silver flash.
Clang!
The bullet split cleanly in half, severed by the razor-thin arc of energy from his sword.
Kurono blinked, taken aback. "That was… just normal swordsmanship?"
She could tell — no magic, no technique, just pure skill.
Among the spectators, Ikki Kurogane's eyes widened. "Impossible… He's deflecting accelerated bullets with ordinary swings?"
Kurono shifted positions, firing in unpredictable patterns — ricochets, feints, time-stretched trajectories — but Haruto calmly turned each aside, the edge of his blade humming with deadly precision.
Even Haruto began to sound annoyed.
"Hey," he said, his tone casual yet cold, "if you're done with your warm-up, can we start the real fight? Time-accelerated bullets won't do much against me."
He swung his sword.
The temperature plummeted. Frost bloomed across the ground as an icy mist coiled behind him. Dozens of crystalline blades formed midair, streaking toward Kurono like a winter storm.
Her pupils contracted.
With a flick of her wrist, time distorted — space around her twisted and shimmered like rippling water. The incoming ice blades shattered into glittering fragments before they could reach her.
But when she looked up again—
He was gone.
The stands erupted with confusion.
"Where'd he go?!"
"Did the principal's opponent just vanish?"
Kurono felt her senses blur — even her memory of Haruto's position began to fade. His presence, his voice, his existence was slipping away.
"What… what kind of ability is this?" she murmured.
A whisper brushed the back of her neck.
> "You'd better use your best techniques," came Haruto's low voice, "or this'll be over too fast."
She spun around —
He stood there, calm, expression unreadable, blade resting casually on his shoulder. The faint frost beneath his feet glowed with a cold blue light.
Even Haruto himself was mildly amused by how potent his "Cognitive Disappearance" had become. Against a level 23 opponent, it practically erased his presence from both sight and memory.
"Why not show me your forbidden technique?" he said, smirking.
Kurono's eyes narrowed. "You… know about that?"
"Too many questions," Haruto sighed. "Once you lose and belong to me, I'll tell you everything."
The way he said it — calm, assured, slightly teasing — sent a ripple through the crowd and a chill down Kurono's spine.
"Very well," she said quietly. "You're confident. Let's see how long that lasts."
She stepped back, steadying her breath.
> "My forbidden technique isn't something I can control. Don't die in there, Haruto Amakawa."
Raising both guns, she fired.
Bang—Bang!
The two bullets collided in midair.
Crack—
The air shattered like glass.
Around Haruto, the world warped and twisted — colors bending, sound breaking apart. Space itself fractured, shards of reality floating like fragments of a mirror.
This was her forbidden technique — World Crisis: Time-Space Collapse.
Time and space intertwined, then ruptured, threatening to erase everything within.
Haruto's eyes narrowed, his blade rising slowly, the frost around him deepening into silence.
So this is what you call a crisis, he thought, his tone somewhere between amusement and curiosity.