Boom!!!
Just as Mayumi-san's speech reached its climax, shaking the very hearts of the students, the grand auditorium itself was shaken by a violent roar.
The floor trembled. Glass rattled.
A massive shockwave surged through the hall, and in the next moment, explosions echoed one after another, their rumbling like the roar of an angry beast.
"W-what's going on!?"
The students, who had been listening so intently just moments before, jerked upright in alarm. Panic began to stir in the air.
The members of the Disciplinary Committee, already prepared for trouble, sprang into action without hesitation. Their movements were sharp, decisive—almost like a perfectly rehearsed play. In a matter of moments, they had subdued the alliance members they had been monitoring, arresting them before the situation could spiral out of control.
But the attack was far from over.
Crash!!!
The sound of shattering glass rang out as a spindle-shaped object smashed through the high windows of the auditorium. It spun through the air before landing with a sharp hiss, releasing a choking white smoke that spread like an ominous fog.
"It's tear gas!"
The Student Council members reacted immediately, coordinating seamlessly with the Disciplinary Committee. Streams of shimmering psion light flared across the hall, condensing and compressing the escaping smoke into a single tight cluster. With a flick of Mayumi's hand, the grenade and its noxious cloud were expelled back through the broken window, vanishing outside as though the entire scene had been rewound like film in reverse.
Even though the terrorists had resorted to such crude, violent means, the countermeasures prepared by First High took effect exactly as planned.
Yet—this was only the beginning.
Bang!!!
The heavy doors of the auditorium were kicked wide open with a thunderous crash. Figures in black uniforms stormed in, their faces hidden behind gas masks.
"Everyone, don't move!" one of them barked, brandishing his firearm.
The sight made Mari-san's eyes narrow. She quickly raised her hand, already preparing to chant a spell. But before she could release it—
"Everyone, get down on your bellies—"
The terrorist's command never finished.
Instead, his words turned into a strangled gasp as his body, along with several of his comrades, suddenly convulsed violently. Their limbs twisted unnaturally, their outlines collapsing like paper set ablaze. And then—
Puff!!
They burst apart like fragile balloons, their bodies dispersing into a fine dust that scattered through the air. In an instant, they were gone—erased from existence itself. Only the heavy clatter of firearms dropping to the floor remained, proof that they had once stood there at all.
"Wha—what was that!?"
Watanabe Mari-senpai froze in shock. The entire hall did the same. No one could comprehend what they had just witnessed.
"Could it be… onii-sama's Scattering Mist…?"
Miyuki gasped, her delicate hand covering her lips. She knew this magic. She recognized it. The technique that decomposed matter into nothingness.
But—Tatsuya hadn't even drawn his CAD.
He shook his head firmly, denying the suspicion. "It wasn't me."
Miyuki's eyes widened. If not him, then—
'Could it be… Mahiro-nii-san…?'
Her gaze darted across the auditorium.
And there he was.
Yotsuba Mahiro stood calmly amidst the chaos, one hand raised, his fingers curled into the shape of a pistol. His fingertip was still pointed directly at the terrorists. Around him, the lingering glow of psion light had yet to fade.
"Ahh, a pistol-shaped CAD really is more convenient…" Mahiro muttered, lowering his hand with a faint sigh. His tone was almost casual, as though he had merely swatted away a nuisance.
The audience's breath caught.
"Yotsuba-kun… that was…?" Watanabe Mari-senpai stammered. She could hardly believe her eyes. The destructive power of that spell—it was at least A-rank. Did he always keep something so dangerous stored in his CAD?
But wait… hadn't his CAD never even been submitted to the school's storage system?
Mahiro only smiled faintly. "It's nothing. Just a little… unconventional trick."
He tilted his head slightly, his expression calm, almost teasing, as he added, "By the way, Mari-senpai, since they're terrorists… it's okay if I just kill them, right?"
His question hung in the air like an icy blade.
"E-eh… yes… but…" Mari faltered, her usual composure shaken. "If they're still students of this school, the priority is to capture them first…"
"Got it. Then I'll handle it." Mahiro's tone was as light as if he'd just been assigned cleanup duty.
"Mahiro-san, be careful!" Mayumi called urgently from the podium.
Normally, the task of suppressing terrorists would fall solely on the Disciplinary Committee. But right now, with all other members busy restraining alliance collaborators, there was no one else available.
Under those circumstances, they had little choice but to rely on the unregistered wildcard that was Yotsuba Mahiro.
Still… Mari's mind couldn't help but replay that earlier moment. The ease with which he had erased those men—merciless, absolute.
This Yotsuba Mahiro… might be far more dangerous than anyone had imagined.
...
In magic high schools, the role of teachers wasn't just academic—they were also stationed as guardians, magicians responsible for guiding practical magic skills and defending the students in times of crisis.
First High School, recognized as the most prestigious among the Nine Schools, boasted instructors who were all first-class magicians. On paper, its combined combat power was formidable enough to repel even a small country's army.
But that strength meant little against sudden, unanticipated assaults. And right now—this was exactly the case.
The campus was swallowed in chaos, the air choked with smoke and flames. Explosions had carved deep craters into the once-pristine school grounds. Shattered trees lay strewn about, their trunks splintered, while the shattered gate told the story of how the invaders stormed in.
Old trucks, armored in a crude manner, had smashed through, disgorging terrorists armed with outdated but deadly weapons. RPGs—anti-tank rockets that should have been gathering dust in a museum—were being fired recklessly. Improvised incendiary bombs burst against walls, blackening the once-white teaching buildings.
Two teachers desperately worked together to smother the sticky flames of an ignited viscous agent, while students who should've been studying were instead fighting for their lives, countering the invading Blanche operatives.
"Oi, there's a lone magician here! Kill him!!!" one of the terrorists shouted the moment they spotted him.
A spray of bullets followed instantly. The rifles barked without hesitation—the aim swift and sharp. Even in the late 21st century, the core weapon for infantry remained the firearm, and these terrorists wielded them with frightening proficiency.
"Their shooting precision is unusually high… tch, as expected of Blanche. These guys aren't your everyday amateurs," Mahiro muttered under his breath, voice steady even under the storm of gunfire.
He didn't falter. Calm and collected, Yotsuba Mahiro merely raised his hand, his body instantly glowing with the brilliant light of Psions.
The translucent aura wrapped around him like a barrier. Bullets that entered within a meter of his frame were decomposed in an instant, breaking apart into molecular dust before they could ever graze him.
No matter how many volleys came, the result was always the same— He was untouchable.
"Scatter—Mist."
His tone was quiet, almost casual. But the Psion light flared violently.
The gunmen who had been so confident in their barrage suddenly convulsed, their bodies twisting unnaturally. In the next heartbeat, both they and their weapons disintegrated, reduced to drifting dust particles that vanished into the smoke-filled air.
Mahiro's gaze sharpened. "The library… so that's your target, huh? Straightforward to the point of being stupid."
A faint glimmer flickered in his eyes, his vision narrowing toward the already-invaded library building. After all, aside from the students, First High's greatest treasure lay there—the cutting-edge archives of modern magic research.
He didn't waste another second.
The moment Mahiro moved, his aura surged like a storm. Rockets streaking across the sky in trails of flame were intercepted in passing—several crystalline projectiles manifesting around him as if summoned by will alone.
Dry ice bullets. They shot upward at supersonic speed, striking the incoming rockets in the air. Explosions blossomed above the campus in brilliant bursts of color, like fireworks born from battle.
"Eh…? That—wait, is that my… Magic Bullet Shooter!?"
From the main auditorium, where she had been maintaining order, Saegusa Mayumi's eyes widened in disbelief. The moment she witnessed the familiar crystalline hail striking down missiles, she froze mid-step.
"This… this is insane…"
Even Watanabe Mari, normally so composed, couldn't hide the shock in her voice.
The technique—Magic Bullet Shooter. A secret, composite magic exclusive to the prestigious Saegusa clan. It combined "Dry Hail Meteor," which generated dry ice bullets by forcibly decelerating air molecules, with "Multiple Observation," a perception-enhancement spell that enabled rapid-fire precision sniping.
It was a spell so advanced that even Mayumi-sama herself could normally only execute it flawlessly alone. Others, like her twin sisters Kasumi and Izumi, had to combine their efforts to replicate it.
And yet… right before her eyes, Yotsuba Mahiro had not only reproduced it perfectly, but unleashed it with speed and mastery that rivaled her own.
"Impossible…! Only I should be able to handle this technique at this level…!" Mayumi whispered, disbelief mixing with a twinge of awe.
Her gaze lingered on Mahiro, a complex swirl of emotions flashing in her eyes. After all, decomposition-type magic wasn't even something the Yotsuba family specialized in. Neither was the Magic Bullet Shooter.
For a moment, the battlefield quieted around her.
Among those present, however, two individuals—Shiba Tatsuya and Shiba Miyuki—understood the truth.
That unreasonableness. That impossible ability. It came from the "Mangekyo Sharingan," a power that defied the normal laws of magic, overwriting phenomena itself.
As Mahiro stood bathed in Psion light, every flicker of his aura meant death for his enemies. The sheer intimidation he radiated was unmistakable.
Shiba Tatsuya felt a flicker of recognition—something painfully familiar.
That overwhelming, merciless presence…
The same terror that once branded him as Mahesvara, the "Devil of Okinawa."
And now—Yotsuba Mahiro carried that same weight.