First High's Alert Team
Mikihiko was the first to sense the enemy, his talismans scattered on the wind summoning spirits that relayed their approach.
"They're here. Upright tanks… different from before. Almost human in movement," he said.
"Human?" Erika tilted her head, ear protection in place.
Upright tanks, designed with short legs on continuous tracks for navigating obstacles, weren't combat robots. At least, not the ones Erika knew.
"Almost in sight… there!" Mikihiko pointed.
"Combat robots?!" Erika gasped.
A machine armed with a chainsaw in its right hand, a powder-actuated nail gun in its left, a howitzer on its right shoulder, and a heavy machine gun on its left loomed into view. Erika's imagination seemed to materialize, but beside her, Miyuki's icy gaze locked onto the menacing machines. As they entered her sight, she unleashed her magic, freezing the tracks of three units and dousing their weapons in frost to disable them.
Leo charged forward, wielding a double-headed hammer-like stick, 50 cm long with a 30 cm grip. The hammerhead, wider and longer than the grip, resembled a Latin cross. A motor whirred, ejecting a thin, translucent black film from the head, transforming into a two-meter, razor-thin blade—Chiba's secret technique, Thin-Winged Dragonfly.
Erika, a step behind Leo, was no less lethal. Adjusting her ear protection, she gripped Orochimaru, held upright in her left arm, and pressed a button below the guard with her right index finger. Hoisting the 180 cm, 10 kg blade effortlessly with magic, she unleashed Yamatsunami. The inertia-control spell minimized her and the blade's inertia for a high-speed approach, amplifying the blade's mass to ten tons at impact. The metal-crushing roar echoed as the tank shattered.
The technique demanded flawless footwork, blade control, and reflexes to match the no-inertia speed—a skill honed through Erika's innate speed and grueling training. As the dust settled, Leo, deactivating Thin-Winged Dragonfly, crouched, clutching his ears.
The other "alert" team faced upright tanks too. Isori had set up a three-meter-deep underground vibration-dampening wall, enabling Kanon's magic. His "formation" also served as ground-based detection, akin to Mikihiko's ancient magic talismans. Modern or ancient, magic was magic, and their roles aligned naturally.
"They're coming," Isori warned.
Kanon activated her spell. Limited by the uncertain underground, she avoided excessive force. The pavement crumbled into sand, seeping water to form puddles. The tanks sank, their tracks swallowed by the liquefied ground—a variation of the Chiyoda family's Minefield, Vibration Mine.
Kazuma and Kirihara emerged from either side. Kazuma dove from above, too fast for the tank's pilot to react. His blade, Raimaru, unleashed Iron-Cleaving. Defining the sword as a singular concept, the spell guided it along a precise cutting line. With Raimaru, the swordsman became part of the magic, enabling flawless, high-speed strikes honed through countless drills. Kazuma's Swift Iron-Cleaving sliced the cockpit clean.
Countless unseen hours of practice had earned him this secret technique, despite his slacker reputation. Nearby, Kirihara closed in as the tank's machine gun turned toward him. Sayaka's thrown short sword pierced the gun, tearing it off, while Tomoe severed the howitzer.
With the tank's weapons neutralized, Kirihara stepped into range. Dodging the chainsaw's arc, his high-frequency blade—his specialty—sliced through the tank's leg, designed to cut armored plates. As the tank collapsed, he slashed off the nail gun and stabbed the cockpit. Feeling flesh give way, Kirihara's face twisted briefly before he leaped back, distancing himself from the fallen machine. His expression was anything but a smile.
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