Sura knocked on the door to the Muramasa residence. As usual, the sturdy wooden door swung open at the gesture, welcoming him inside. Taking off his shoes and placing them in the rack, he walked towards the living room, a spring in his step. He could hear the sounds of conversation coming from there, the voices as excited as he felt.

“... I’m telling ya, the place is something else. They got everything I ever wanted, and a whole bunch of stuff I didn’t even think of! How does a lab like that even exist?”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure it was great. Now if you’ll excuse me, I was reading. This book is… there are less than one hundred copies in existence…”

He entered the living room to find the three girls in his class on the couches, a twinkle in each of their eyes. Fiona’s usual cynicism was missing, instead replaced by a grin of sheer excitement, like a child who has found out they’ve been gifted the entire toy shop. Even Alice seemed to be in a good mood as she poured over an ancient looking tome she was holding. Over on one of the seats, Asuka had her knees drawn up as usual, reading a book Sura hadn’t seen her with before. While she was reserved as usual, there was no denying the eager curiosity in her eyes.

“Well. You three look like you had a good day.”

They looked up as he walked over, the slight glint in his eyes and the lightness of his gait not going unnoticed by any of them.

“Heh. You’re one to talk,” said Fiona. “You look like you hit the jackpot.”

“I made some gains.”

She moved aside as he approached, and he sat down on the couch next to her. She could barely contain her excitement. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled something out, and handed it to him.

“Check this out.”

He took the object she had offered and held it up in the light. It was a bright, electric blue Crystal which seemed to glow slightly from within. Its colour was easy to mistake for the deeper blue of a Water Crystal, but to those who knew, the difference was clear to see. He whistled low.

“Hey. This is a Faust Cell, isn’t it?” he said, amazement in his voice.

“Yep,” she answered. “Guess who made it.”

He started slightly, then slowly turned towards her. Fiona was greeted by a sight she had never seen before: Sura’s eyes wide with surprise… and admiration. Her spirits, already high, soared a little higher. He hid his initial shock soon enough, but the smile on his face as he spoke was completely genuine.

“That’s insane.”

“I know, right?”

Alice watched this little conversation play out in front of her, a now-familiar irritation building in her. Before she could comment on it, though, the dark-haired delinquent looked at her.

“And you look like you had a good day too. What’s that book?”

Not expecting the question at all, she stuttered slightly.

“I-it’s about the making and operation of Artifacts.”

She held it up. The hardcover was leather bound, and there was no written title either on the front or the back. However, a gilt symbol in the shape of a pair of wings was embossed on it.

“I didn’t know they even had a copy of this here,” she said, trailing off and muttering to herself. She wasn’t aware, however, that Sura’s hearing was much sharper than a normal person’s. His eyebrows rose momentarily at her mention of “the family not allowing her to access their copy”, but he chose not to comment on it. He didn’t press the matter further, but he did have a slight smile on his face at the fire in her eyes.

Which left…

He looked at Asuka, and this time, the answer was evident without him needing to ask, just from the book she was reading.

“History, huh?”

She nodded, face slightly red. While she had gotten used to Fiona and Alice, she was still a little shy when talking to Sura.

“The teacher isn’t so bad,” she said in a quiet voice.

“Hmph, yeah, right,” snorted Fiona, rolling her eyes. “They’re all the same, Mages. You better be careful.”

While Alice didn’t say anything, she found herself for the most part in agreement with the Engineer. Mages tended to look down on those with weak Magic… and those with no Magic. This was how it had always been for her. How it had always been for every Flawed. She looked at Sura, expecting to see the familiar fury on his face. To her immense surprise, however, it wasn’t there. He looked lost in thought.

“What’s with you?” she asked.

“Hmm? Oh, nothing.” He shook his head. It was clear he didn’t want to talk about it, was trying to brush it off. That in itself was so unusual for him that she immediately grew curious.

“And what about you?” she pressed. “What course did you pick?”

“Ah, I took Literature,” he said lightly.

Alice, Fiona and Asuka (who had looked up from her reading) all blinked several times. It took a few moments for the ball to drop, but once it did…

“WHAT?”

Sura winced and covered his ears.

“... for crying out loud, I’m right here, there’s no need to shout.”

His words, fittingly enough, fell on deaf ears.

Fiona was all but leaning over him, one hand on his collar.

“No friggin’ way,” she said. “Literature? Like, with classics and stuff? And all the reading?”

“Why the hell not?” said Sura, slightly offended. “Don’t make it sound like I don’t read.”

“That ain’t it. I just thought you’d go with something’ like, I don’t know, Advanced Practical Magic or something.”

“Are you actually kidding me?” asked Sura incredulously. “Practical Magic? What would I do in a class like that?”

“I don’t know! You’d learn stuff about how Mages do their shit, so that you counter it.”

Alice raised her hand.

“Umm… I thought the same thing. I was sure you’d take any opportunity to learn more about Magic.”

Sura huffed in annoyance.

“First off: the real combat stuff? They don’t teach that in school. Mages use all kinds of tricks you’d never expect from what you learn in class. People experiment, try stuff out on their own, and come up with their own ways of doing things. Plus, I’m guessing these rich-ass brats have private tutors at home for duelling lessons. Maybe they’d mention one or two useful things, but I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

Alice involuntarily remembered various teachers visiting the family home to give private lessons to Alphonse. For a Flawed who came from a working class background, Sura’s idea of how high level Mages were taught was quite accurate.

“And secondly,” the boy continued, “This is Elysium. They’d never let me into a class like that. I don’t have the science smarts or Magic knowledge to get past that.”

He looked at Fiona and Alice.

“You two are already crazy just for making it in.”

Neither of the girls were used to being praised, and a healthy amount of red found its way onto their faces at hearing these words. Fiona suddenly realized she was still holding his collar, and let go of it quickly.

“A-anyway,” she said, hoping her reaction hadn’t been noticed, “Why Literature?”

Sura shrugged. “I can draw in class. And it’s a subject I don’t need to kill myself to pass.”

“You had better pass,” interrupted a new voice.

Sura looked over to the hallway, where Ms. Muramasa was standing with her arms crossed.

“I’ll warn you now: I expect certain standards from those who take my class.”

Fiona, Alice and Asuka all looked at the delinquent, who had a bead of sweat rolling down his face.

“And let me introduce you to the Literature teacher. I have a feeling you’ve already met her.”

Ms. Muramasa’s ever-present scowl deepened somewhat.

“You won’t be graded on your jokes, which I suppose you should feel relieved about.”

Everyone winced.

“Wow, no mercy, huh?” muttered Fiona.

Sura, as ever, shrugged it off, a fierce smile appearing on his face instead.

“I figured out your hint,” he said to the towering woman. “I don’t need to rely on the pulse to beat Mages. I can see what I’m capable of.”

“... You speak of the trash you defeated outside the Library.”

He wasn’t surprised that she already knew about the fight. But his smile grew.

She was walking towards him.

Without warning, her movements sped up, but Sura was ready. Leaping off the couch, he dashed forward.

Their fists collided against each other, the force of the impact shaking the house and almost toppling smaller chairs over, even as the glasses and windows tinkled.

“My eyes are wide open,” said Sura.

The three girls of 3F hadn’t been able to move a muscle. The movements were too fast to follow with their eyes. All of a sudden, the delinquent and homeroom teacher were locked in a struggle, neither able to push the other’s arm even an inch.

Alice felt her mouth open.

Something’s changed.

She didn’t know what it was.

Before she could even think about it, the two fighters moved again. Pulling back, they lashed out with their opposite hands, and once more, two straight punches smashed into each other.

And then, all of a sudden, it was like an earthquake had begun, as though machine guns were going off.

The two Martial Artists wailed away on each other, making no attempt to block or dodge, simply meeting attack with attack. It was an impractical way of fighting, but this was a test.

The Enhancements on the house kept it intact and unharmed, but even so, the couches shook wildly, and the girls struggled to keep watching.

“He’s… matching her blow for blow?!” said Alice incredulously.

In one day?! How did he improve so much in one day?

The smile on his face still hadn’t disappeared. If anything, it was bursting with excitement. Cold sweat rolled down her neck.

“Good. Your movements are sharper. You’ve gotten rid of wasted motion, and your guard isn’t dropping,” said Ms. Muramasa, continuing to fight without breaking rhythm even as she spoke, not the least bit out of breath.

As Sura launched a left hook at her, she leaned back slightly, and swung her forearm outwards in a circular movement, using the edge of her hand to parry his blow to the side. With his arm out of the way, she shot her own right hand forward towards his body.

Muramasa Style Martial Arts: Crescent Moon Strike.

While the exact form of this move could change, the principle remained the same: the guarding hand diverted the opponent’s momentum, causing them to lunge out of balance, leaving them open. The opposite hand then delivered the counter-strike, combining one’s own momentum with the opponent’s forward movement to multiply the force manifold.

She had used this against Sura once before, during their first spar.

The Crescent Moon Strike derived its name from the circular parry… and the arc of the uppercut that most often followed it.

As her fist travelled towards Sura’s liver, however, he continued with the momentum of his whiffed attack, spinning out of the way of the counter. Her punch barely glanced against him, doing no damage.

Mizuki’s eyes widened as an elbow hurtled right towards her face.

He took the counter and went into a spinning elbow?

The experience and reflexes of the veteran Martial Artist were all that saved her from a broken nose, as she leaned back and used her palm to block the strike.

Both fighters slid backwards after the exchange, looking to regain their stance and balance.

Sura bounced lightly on his feet.

“The same move doesn’t work on me twice,” he said, eyes glinting.

Mizuki’s mouth twitched.

This brat… he’s learning.

“I’ll admit. You now have one eye open.”

The smile on Sura’s face turned into a frown.

“One eye?”

Mizuki took a different stance, her feet wider and her base lower, both fists raised.

“One eye,” she said. “You’re seeing, but you’re not seeing the big picture yet. Missing the forest for the trees.”

Sura growled, going into a wide stance of his own.

He could sense her Ki.

A battle between two Martial Artists who could use Ki was based on several factors: one’s ability to feel and channel one’s own Ki, one’s ability to sense the Ki of others, and the amount of Ki one possessed.

For Sura, when he looked at Mizuki, he could see the aura surrounding her. When people referred to bloodlust or violent intent, it was this Ki aura that they spoke of. Mizuki’s aura was one of immense violence, but it was not wild. Its true danger lay in the fact that it was measured, calm. The aura of a beast who knows how to hunt, how to slay its target.

While Sura had never encountered another Martial Artist in person before, much less one who could use Ki, he had an idea of what to watch out for. Earlier in the fight, she had used the same techniques as him, concentrating energy to the limb she was attacking with. To defeat her, he would have to sense her Ki, follow her moves, and transfer his own energy within his body to the right parts as needed, to attack and defend.

This was what he was expecting.

And thus, he wasn’t prepared for what came next.

Mizuki’s entire aura exploded.

What was a burning flame became a raging wildfire. The woman’s powerful muscles bulged, straining her suit. Veins stood out around her forehead. The sheer amount of energy she was emanating was causing her long hair to flow upwards, as though blown by a ferocious wind.

Cold sweat poured down Sura’s neck.

What the actual hell…

The amount of Ki she was emanating was outrageous. To Sura, who had spent several years accustoming himself to sensing the Ki of people around him all the time, it was impossible to fathom. He had a mental image of what a living being’s bio-energetic field was supposed to be like.

This far surpassed that.

It was like trying to compare a candle to a burning forest.

“I commend you on your technique,” the woman said, even her voice distorted from the tension of her muscles. “For a self-taught fighter, I would even go so far as to say you are remarkable. But that lack of instruction has made you unable to see the obvious.”

Her gaze, locked on his, was far calmer than it usually was.

“This is the gap in power, between one who uses a fraction, and one who uses the whole.”

Sura knew it already.

Whether it was strength, speed, toughness, instantaneous or sustained power: in every physical attribute right now, she was on a level far beyond his own. Even if she were to stand and do nothing, and he rained down blow after blow on her, he wouldn't even be able to put a scratch on her. In contrast, if she were to take a single step forward, then even with the Magical Enhancements on it, the entire building would collapse.

Fighting her here and now was pointless.

He didn’t stand a chance.

A little distance away, Asuka had already fallen to the ground, clutching her chest. Alice was struggling to get off her knees, and Fiona was breathing hard. The instinctive dread of being in the presence of a danger that could not be overcome or escaped had taken hold of them. It was the same terror one experienced when faced with a wild tiger, but multiplied many times over. Ki had as much to do with the heart and mind as the body, and for the girls of 3F, their fighting spirits had already submitted to Mizuki’s.

Even further away, in the other dorms, Mages, students and teachers alike, felt overpowering dread coursing through them. Most fell to the floor, clutching themselves in fear. Others rolled under their beds, as though in preparation for an earthquake. They could not sense any Magic, and thus, this nameless terror was even more frightening to them. Some believed it must be the result of some kind of advanced technology, or a kind of Magic that could not be sensed. After all, rumours abounded of the higher levels of the Primary Building, which were off-limits to the students and most of the staff, being used for experiments.

In the Primary Building, all the way on the twenty-fifth floor, Alphonse clenched his teeth and fists, summoning up the strongest Barrier he could, his heart pounding furiously in his chest. A few feet away, the air around Yuki was already starting to condense as she summoned her power in preparation for what could be a disaster. The only one who hadn’t bothered summoning a Barrier was the President, who was leaning back in his chair, a relaxed smile on his face. However, his nonchalance did nothing to reassure the others: the President was an anomaly. It was foolishness to feel secure and safe just because he did.

“Ah yes, the peerless gem of the warrior bloodline,” he said.

Ace turned to him.

“Hey, if you know who’s causing this, boss, maybe you could tell them to cut it out.”

While he retained his wit, his body was shaking.

As for the President, he only laughed lightly.

“Out of the question, of course. Can’t you sense that power? What kind of sane person would walk towards it?”

He looked out the window, towards the teacher’s residence building, from which the power emanated.

The Muramasa Family. Nobles who irreversibly fell from grace. Their entire Clan wiped out in a single night as the culmination of their arrogance and lust for power. Even so… the lone survivor is in a league of her own, isn’t she?

Of the four Noble families in the North Kingdom, each had a purpose, a role, and ideals. The Wolvenheims studied Magic for the sake of Magic. The Matsudairas used Magic to bring harmony to the peoples of the Kingdom. The Adams practiced Magic as a means to personal gain.

And then, there were the Muramasas.

They were the House of War.

The lone survivor of that house now taught at Elysium.

The rumours said that she was the strongest Muramasa born in many centuries. Even with most of her wealth lost, and her family’s standing irreparably damaged, not one single Noble had taken a step against her directly.

As the entire school waited for the storm to subside, right at the centre of it stood Mizuki, her stance impeccable.

She had no intention of attacking. If she were to do so in her current state, the boy would die. That wasn’t what she wanted. She was… curious. When she had first heard that one of the Flawed coming to Elysium was a delinquent with laughably average academic grades, she had wondered if connections were somehow involved. Large sums of money, perhaps. But no: a brief look at his family showed that the boy was from a comfortable but humble background. And then, he arrived and she saw him. Right away, she knew.

He was a fighter.

Flawed, Mage: none of that mattered.

He was a living, breathing warrior. The outstanding body he possessed, in a day and age where most did not train. The gait, the posture, the breathing, the gaze. There was no denying it: this boy was a warrior. And then, she saw him fight, and it was confirmed. He practiced the Old Ways, and had inherited the Martial Arts. But he wasn’t a Noble. Nor did his family have any links to the warriors of ages past. The truth then was obvious: he had not been brought into this world by the will of others: he had chosen it himself. Chosen to train, chosen to learn. Mizuki knew that many of the Old Masters had made their knowledge available on the Internet. The sites weren’t even hidden. In a world of Mages, all things could be done with Magic, and no one cared for some ancient training or fighting methods. The Old Masters simply wanted someone to pass on their ways to, so that they weren’t lost forever. And so it remained on the Internet, all of their teachings, hidden in plain sight, until he came looking for them.

He would have learned from those lessons. Watched countless hours of videos, read volumes of information, and then painstakingly applied it, learning from his mistakes, and teaching himself how to do it.

He was taught by the Old Masters.

And he was taught by himself.

That was Sura.

The Martial Artist in her could see the shortcomings in his technique, the gaps in his knowledge. But she also saw that he knew how to use what he had. And she saw why he was fighting.

He couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the Mages, walking around, talking their mouths off, acting like they owned the world. Couldn’t stand them looking down on him, stepping on him, humiliating him, treating him like a lesser being. As a Flawed, he had seen early in life what Mizuki had only seen much later.

The world of Mages was corrupt.

It was an unclean, evil thing, that fed on the lives of the innocent.

And so, each punch he landed on a Mage, every time he shattered the bones of some evil brat, she felt a tiny part of the anger she was carrying get vindicated. She started helping him. It wasn’t easy: he could be brash, and even irreverent. But… his heart was in the right place.

So she needed to test him.

The first test had been enduring the beating laid down on him by the Wolvenheim child. It was Sura’s first encounter with a truly superior opponent who wanted to defeat him. He had endured it, and he had come out with his spirit intact. That was when she decided to oversee his training.

He seemed to learn well on his own.

But he needed someone to guide him on the right path.

And that path had led here.

Her objective in showing him this form of hers was not to intimidate him, but to make clear where his error lay: what he was failing to see. But she could only show him the truth. Seeing it was up to him. She could see the fear in his eyes.

Of course.

He was a man living in a world of children, a Martial Artist who had only fought Mages. Even having faced the Wolvenheim boy, he did not know what it was to experience true fear. The fear of knowing that one stood before him who could kill him with her bare hands. The fear of facing a superior fighter.

This was where his mettle would be proven.

“Experience terror! This is what your opponents felt when they stood in front of you.”

She flared her Ki even further, feeling every cell in her body aglow with energy.

Sura instinctively leaned back a few inches, eyes wide. His stance was weak, his base high. He wasn’t standing firm. Fear had crept into him.

Yet, he hadn’t taken a single step backwards.

His hands were still up.

He hadn’t given up. And indeed, his Ki aura still burned.

This was a difficult test. Indeed, a student who was trained in the Muramasa Dojo from the beginning would not have to undergo it under these conditions. While this was a rite of passage, students traditionally arrived at this stage armed with a certain tool to clear it. Sura, owing to the nature of his Martial Arts journey, had many tools, but also a few he lacked, and the one needed here was one of them. Thus, he was facing this test with heart alone.

It was unfair.

But the path ahead of you is unfair to the bitter end.

If he faltered here, then it was better that his journey ended.

And yet, she hoped that wouldn’t be the case.

Sura saw the immense power in front of him, one he could not overcome.

I’m shaking?

He felt simultaneously like laughing and banging his head on the floor. After coming all this way, he was experiencing fear? Fear, of all things? Fear had him paralyzed, unable to move, staring, transfixed?

It was infuriating.

It was unforgivable.

Like a fucking coward? I can’t accept it. I won’t accept it.

It made him sick to his stomach, because though he didn’t know how Mizuki had designed the test for him, he had instinctively grasped the truth of it. That this was his first time facing down a warrior, like himself. Mages, to him, were the equivalent of cowards with guns. Take away the gun, and the coward folds. It was why he would not flinch even if the entire Kingdom came at him together. But one warrior? One real warrior? That made him pause.

And it made him think.

All this time, this is what they felt when I faced them?

Was I the bully?

Sura had beaten down countless Mages. Left them with broken bones and shattered egos. He had humiliated them in front of their friends, often along with their friends. He had seen all of this as right. Not for one moment had he doubted his own actions. He saw nothing wrong with inflicting violence on the Mages who had used their powers to humiliate him. The Mages who had hit him when he hadn’t been able to hit back. The Mages who had belittled his parents for giving birth to a Flawed.

Somewhere along the way, had that retribution changed into something else?

They couldn’t fight back, could they? I was beating down on the ones who couldn’t fight back.

Mages chomped at the bit to fight him: in their mind, a Flawed was easy pickings. But none of them had any heart. Any true power. One punch, one kick, a single strike: that was all it took to disillusion them. And once that happened, all bravado disappeared. Sura did not for one second believe that any of those Mages who had come after him, or attacked the girls, were good people. That he had misjudged their character, that he had done anything wrong in smashing them into the ground.

What he couldn’t stand was the thought that his own crusade was just opportunism.

That he was like the very Mages he detested: picking on those he thought he could beat.

That now, up against a strong opponent, his ideals and his spine would fold like wet paper.

I won’t accept it.

His anger began to overpower his fear.

No matter the opponent. I won’t back down. Not now, not ever.

“I’ll fight.”

His legs stood firm, no longer shaking, and he breathed deep. His heart was still pounding fit to burst, but now he felt like fire was flowing through his veins. Feeding into the rage, he spontaneously flared his Ki, bringing forth every last ounce of his power. He didn’t entirely know what he was doing in that moment, but he followed his instinct, surging the Ki throughout his entire body, willing it to fill him with strength.

The change that came over him was as quick as it was alarming. He wasn’t prepared for the potency of the effect.

His muscles bunched for a second, then loosened, before bulging, tearing through his shirt almost right away. He was surrounded by strange vapours, and it took him a second to realize it was the steam from his own evaporating sweat. His entire body was burning hot. The Ki field around him fluctuated a few times, then began to surge outward, causing the marble floor to crack. In contrast to the outward explosion, he felt completely calm inside, as though all his emotions had drained immediately.

I… see. This is power.

Mizuki watched the transformation happen in front of her, growing more alarmed by the second.

This Ki… how does this brat have such power?

The test had already escalated far beyond what she had intended.

He picked it up instantly…

Her objective in showing her this transformed state was for him to see how she did it, and slowly master it himself. It would take months before he was even somewhat proficient at it, and that was already accelerated progress: it took students of the Muramasa Style years to get to that point.

What had happened instead, was that in fighting off his fear, the boy had tapped into his deeper emotions, and instinctively learned the very technique she was using.

Full body Ki empowerment.

Focusing the Ki to a part of one’s body had limited effectiveness. After all, no part of the body existed in isolation. The bones, the muscles, the nerves, all tied into each other. A fist for example, could only strike as hard as the arm, torso, hips and legs supporting it. A foot could propel one only as high as the strength of the legs and torso allowed. While concentrating Ki to one part improved efficacy to an extent, it was ultimately limited by the rest of the body.

And thus, the solution: flooding one’s entire body with Ki. While it was a simple enough concept, actually executing it took years of work: developing one’s Ki, learning control, gaining the strength and stamina to maintain one’s aura in the flared state, not to mention the enormous strain it placed on the body.

But Sura’s body was already superhuman. Whatever insane training he had done had already seen to that. All that remained was control. And it seemed that in whatever subconscious state of mind he was now in, he had instinctive control over his power.

It was said that one’s emotions were strongly tied to one’s Ki.

Just how much anger does he have towards Mages?

Where others must strive for control, Sura could grow at a terrifying pace simply by tapping into his emotions. Mizuki had to consciously remind herself that the boy had only yesterday lost to Alphonse Wolvenheim. In the space of one day, he had corrected the obvious errors in his technique, which were more likely due to carelessness than actual deficiency. He had stopped relying on the sonic pulse, which had allowed him to be far more responsive. He had figured out how to armour parts of his body with Ki to directly deflect Magic. And he had been able to perform a full-body Ki empowerment, after seeing it only once.

I misjudged the boy…

She kept her eye on him, cautious.

It simply didn’t matter that he was Flawed.

He was an absolute monster of a fighter. Part innate talent, part hard work, the two combined, there was no telling what the limits of his potential were.

She changed her evaluation of him. Her plan had been to watch, continuing to offer hints where needed. But if he continued to grow at this pace, she would need to be more hands-on. For the moment, however, he was still in his altered state of mind. If he went berserk while wielding this much power…

The results would be unfortunate.

There was too much at stake.

“Apologies,” she said. “I’ll have to get serious.”

“I’ll fight you too…”

Once he moved, it would be too late. At his current level of strength, a single step would cause the entire house to come down, if not cause a faultline along the school campus. But if she moved, it would cause the same problem.

Given the unique nature of the situation, Mizuki did what she never thought she would need to do against Sura.

She used Magic.

The sonic pulse went off, and right on cue, Sura began to move. But even before he could shift his weight onto his front foot, Mizuki had finished Casting. The Magic energy pulled open two small holes in space-time. Mizuki stepped into the first, and out the second… right behind Sura. The Dimensional Phase Skill created a pocket dimension for the user to enter, and by moving through it, she had avoided damaging her house, and taking Sura head-on.

Before the Flawed fighter could react to the sudden presence behind him, she struck him a single time, a precise chop to the back of the neck. His eyes rolled up into his head, his Ki aura diminished, and his legs went out as he lost consciousness. His knees didn’t hit the ground though: she caught him before that, undoing her own transformation as she did so.