"Master Haruki, please don't force yourself!" Kirin Toudou pleaded, her face pale with concern. "You should recover before worrying about the Phoenix Festa. Please, don't worry about my father's situation right now..."
Kirin hated seeing Haruki in pain. To her, he was an invincible pillar of strength; seeing him literally steaming with an unnatural fever was more than she could bear.
But Haruki had no intention of backing down.
He didn't believe this level of heat could stop him. While a normal person would be paralyzed by such a high-intensity internal fever, Haruki's mental discipline was a fortress. He could still move and think, though the thermal pressure was slowing his cognitive rhythm—like an overclocked processor struggling to keep up with its own output.
"I've never seen a man so stubborn," Claudia Enfield sighed, though her eyes held a spark of genuine amazement. "Haruki-kun, sit down. I've found a lead on a potential cure."
"A cure?" Haruki rasped.
"Backlashes from Pure Stellar Luxes are all unique, but the principle is the same: the energy is backflowing from the weapon into the host. Since your synchronization is 100%, the Ser-Veresta isn't attacking you—it's trying to fill you. But you have no exhaust port. To fix this, you need a master of energy circulation."
"And who is that?"
"The Student Council President of Jie Long Seventh Academy... Fan Xinglou."
The name was unfamiliar to Haruki, but the reaction from the others was instantaneous. Everyone else looked visibly unsettled.
"President Claudia, are you serious?" Kirin whispered. "The Banhouya (Great Mother)? Before I came to Asterisk, the Toudou elders warned me that the only person you never provoke is Fan Xinglou. Meeting her is... dangerous."
"She is the undisputed master of Star Pulse manipulation," Claudia explained. "If anyone can vent that heat without killing you, it's her."
"But Jie Long is a rival," Julis pointed out. "What if she demands Haruki withdraw from the Festa as the price for his life?"
"Then she won't be treating me," Haruki said, forcing himself to stand.
The room seemed to pulse with heat as he moved. He looked at his hands and then at his concerned teammates.
"You've misunderstood," Haruki said, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly tone. "I didn't say I couldn't treat myself. Claudia, you said the problem is a lack of an exhaust port. I don't know 'Star Pulse' techniques, but I understand the essence of energy. I have an ocean of fire inside me and nowhere to put it. So, I'll just find a place to let it all out."
"What are you planning?" Claudia asked, her eyes widening. "Haruki-kun, if you release that much energy all at once... you'll level the academy. The buildings won't hold!"
"I'll minimize the collateral damage," Haruki said, waving her off.
He had a target in mind. A place where high-intensity destruction was not only permitted but expected.
"I'm going to turn the arena into a furnace."
The day of the Round of 16 arrived.
Despite the rumors of Haruki's "medical emergency" circulating through the campus network, the Sword Ghost appeared at the Sirius Dome alongside Julis.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" the announcer roared. "Yesterday, we saw a literal god-tier display of power as Haruki Aizawa dismantled the Vampire Princess. But today, the rumors are swirling! Is the Seidokan Rank 1 suffering from a Lux-backlash? Will he even be able to lift his blade?!"
The crowd was a mix of frantic excitement and skepticism. Haruki walked onto the stage looking different. He wasn't meditating. He was standing perfectly still, his skin slightly flushed, a faint shimmer of heat haze distorting the air around his silhouette.
From the opposite gate, their opponents emerged: Song and Luo from Jie Long Seventh Academy. They wore traditional martial arts tunics and carried a long dao and a heavy staff.
"Representing Jie Long: Song and Luo! Can they take advantage of the Sword Ghost's supposed weakness?!"
Haruki took a deep breath. He didn't focus on his opponents. He focused on the Ser-Veresta on his back. He opened the floodgates. He stopped suppressing the heat and allowed it to circulate freely through his limbs.
"So, you're the one," Song said, offering a martial bow. "I heard you were unwell. It's a shame. I would have preferred to face you at your peak. If you wish to seek my Master's help, I will not stand in your way."
"Your concern is noted," Haruki replied, his voice echoing with an unnatural resonance. "But don't worry about my health. Worry about your own."
"Match... BEGIN!"
Song and Luo moved with perfect synchronization. They lunged toward Haruki, Song's fist glowing with a dense, white light—Star Pulse reinforced to the extreme.
Julis stepped forward, her flames ready. "Nine-Tiered Dancing Flame!"
Song didn't flinch. He swatted her fireballs aside with his bare hands. "Nice try, Princess. But we've trained for heat!"
He bypassed Julis and slammed his "Iron Fist" directly into Haruki's chest. Haruki didn't move. He didn't block. He just stood there and took the hit.
The audience gasped. But the one who screamed wasn't Haruki.
"ARGH!" Song recoiled, his hand smoking. He stared at his knuckles in horror—the Star Pulse barrier he had constructed had been melted away in a microsecond. His skin was blistered as if he had punched the core of a star.
"What... what are you made of?!" Song gasped.
Haruki looked at him, his eyes glowing with a manic, golden-red light. "Is that it? Is that all the force you can muster? Fine. If you won't attack, I'll provide the opening."
Haruki imitated Song's stance, but instead of focusing energy into a punch, he simply stopped containing the pressure in his spirit. He channeled the "backlash" from the Ser-Veresta outward.
Haruki unleashed the furnace.
Even though he only released a fraction of the pent-up energy, the sheer thermal output was staggering. The air in the center of the arena began to boil, turning into a visible wave of incandescent distortion.
"This... what is this energy?!" Luo and Song stammered.
They frantically coated themselves in Star Pulse to survive the ambient temperature, but they felt like they had been dropped into a smelting vat. Their skin began to sting, and their oxygen was being sucked out of the air by the raw heat.
Julis was affected too, but as a Flame Strega, her resistance was far higher. She grit her teeth and held her ground, watching as Haruki became a living sun.
"Ngh...!" Song roared, desperate to end the torture. He threw everything he had into a final lunge, his elbow aimed at Haruki's solar plexus.
But before he could even connect, the superheated air scorched his lungs. He collapsed mid-strike, his body seizing as his nervous system went into shock from the temperature.
Luo tried to flank him, discarding his staff for a high-speed palm strike. Haruki didn't dodge. He just flared his aura one step further.
BOOM!
A shockwave of thermal energy exploded from Haruki's center. Luo was sent flying across the stage, his clothes singed, falling unconscious before he even hit the ground.
The audience and the referee were stunned. From their perspective, the Jie Long fighters had simply approached Haruki and then collapsed in a fit of agony. They couldn't feel the heat through the barriers, so the victory looked like pure, dark magic.
"Match over! Winner: Haruki Aizawa!"
As Haruki sheathed the Ser-Veresta, the temperature in the dome began to normalize. He felt a sense of profound lightness—the "overload" was gone, ground into the souls of his opponents.
The rumors of the "backlash" had been silenced. Instead, a new, more terrifying rumor began to take its place: The Sword Ghost had mastered the fire of the gods.
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