There exists a Demonic Sword that can only be made manifest by
the ‘Man-eater’.

There exists an instantaneous transportation technique that can only be used by the ‘Witch of Gates’.

Each equally characteristic wildcards.

As a general name, the White Knight Order calls them thus —

The utterly unique, Origins.

Haimura Moroha saw a dream of a past life.

Outside the window, a blizzard raged.

The sky hadn’t been clear in this area for a year.

It was as though it had been plunged into a perpetual, freezing hell.

In these barren wastes, stood Moroha’s castle.

The cold sank deeply into the stone rooms. In this atmosphere, even the fire in the hearth was frail, and the crackling of the firewood seemed lonely. It seemed as if even the carpet had frozen and it was no different from a stone floor. The cold was like needles, continually piercing the skin.

That torture chamber like room was Moroha’s office.

With no hope of birdsong, he listened to the empty howling of the blizzard. The breath he exhaled was a pure white. Sat in an office chair, chilled like a casket, Moroha was reading ancient documents.

In today’s dream, alone he was not.

“I’m cold.”

From his legs, a woman’s voice sounded.

It was sweet like honey, and tickled the ears like a feather, it was an alluring voice.

It was that of a woman with long black hair, sprawled coquettishly into his lap.

She was just in the blind spot created by the documents, and her expression wasn’t visible.

However, he felt her chill and shivering through his thighs.

“Let’s move your castle to a warmer place? Hmm, Shuu Saura.”

The black haired woman called Moroha in the dream this.

Shuu Saura. That was Moroha’s name in a past life.

In one of two.

“This used to be a grain producing region.”

Feigning absentmindedness, Shuu Saura continued the conversation with the woman.

“Yes, that’s right. Until ten years ago that is,” with her head still in his lap, she used cynicism as a child would to draw attention, “before you used the forbidden spell.”

Whatever she said, Shuu Saura didn’t raise his face from the book.

The woman piled on more words to try and draw attention.

“With just a single spell, you turned this country into an icy hell and took tens of thousands of lives. But you saved more people. I am one of them. I can remember it like it was just yesterday you know? Though it’s just a decade ago?”

Calling a decade ‘just’ was also seasoned with sarcasm, but her tone remembering that seemed somewhat happy.

“Hmm, Shuu Saura, my lord, my beloved, just when will you tire of living your life in this icy prison and tormenting my body with this cold?”

As she carried on speaking, she was also continuously stroking his lap.

Lovingly, teasingly.

“It’s not a case of growing tired. Is this not a suitable castle for I, the worlds enemy, the destroyer of order and the one loathed as the Pluto? Is not here eminently suitable?”

“So you’ll continue repenting here until you die? You really like that, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what you mean, I simply have a liking for this area.”

Shuu Saura feigned indifference.

Simultaneously, a sniff from him signified that the conversation was at an end.

He went to turn to a new page — but suddenly, the woman grabbed the documents.

“In front of me, your wife, I’d like you to not behave like the bad person, you know?”

She said, with an awfully peevish tone.

“If you call yourself my spouse, then I’d want it to be as a wise wife, right, oh Witch of the Underworld?”

With a wry smile, Shuu Saura chided her childish behaviour.

There was now nothing obstructing the space between them, and the woman called the Witch of the Underworld’s face was now exposed.

She had a cold, inhuman beauty that made it possible to mistake her for a doll if she didn’t move.

Her expression was rigid like a mask.

Her voice and tone were clearly peeved but her face showed absolutely none of that emotion.

“Return it.”

His words short, Shuu Saura ordered, extending his hand.

The woman was silent and expressionless, but as if in a fit of anger, threw it behind her.

To the man feared as the Pluto, she was behaving unreservedly like a spoiled child. Sulking.

An innocence as if being feared as a witch was a lie.

Shuu Saura let out an aghast sigh and then his wry smile was filled with deep affection.

“Do not trouble me so much.”

“I refuse, I want you to care for me more.”

But the witch grew more and more peevish, and more and more reckless.


She stood and advanced on him.

She suddenly opened her top and exposed two abundant breasts.

Exposed and marked on her breast was a brutal brand.

Harming her artificially perfect beauty, a cruel blot.

However, the woman was proud, throwing out her chest to show it.

“You were the one that freed me from slavery, weren’t you?”

Her honey-like voice coaxingly whispered.

“Don’t you have a duty of tying me down?”

Then she took his right hand and guided it to the mark upon her breast, the proof that she was once a slave.


As he looked at her like a beloved child, he reacted to her words.

“You are free. In this world, there exists no chain that can bind a person to another.”

He softly stroked the brand on her breast.

The fingertip touching the witch’s breast was gentle and loving.

“I’m drowning in the freedom you gave me, so I can only cling to you.”

The Witch of the Underworld encircled his neck with her arms and straddled his lap.

“Please. Look at me. Hold me. Don’t let me go. Hold me tight. Until we die. And then once we are reborn. Forever. Always.”

The witch leant her slender body into him, compressing her abundant breasts between them.

“That is your atonement to me.”

Her face was motionless, seeming artificial.

However, her gazing eyes alone, they were filled with tears.

In place of an answer, Shuu Saura strongly embraced her.

Without touching even a finger more together, without even a kiss.

Sharing a slight warmth in this frozen world.

It was as if —

They were confirming the connection of their souls, it was a deep, passionate embrace.

There, Shuu Saura’s dream was interrupted, and Moroha awoke.

“It was a bit of a waste.”

The piercing cold of the room, the warmth of the woman in his arms, it was all a dream.

The real Haimura Moroha was here.

In the courtyard of Akane Private Academy High-school.

An academy of those who inherited their past life’s memories and superhuman abilities, Reincarnators, or Saviours.

He’d fallen asleep sprawled on the lawn, basking in the sun.

“So that was the Witch of the Underworld… We finally met.”

With his eyes still closed, Moroha thought over the dream, gathering up the feelings that were racing away from his arms, the remnants of his dream.

The irreplaceable feeling, of the heat of the woman’s skin.

The incomparable softness of the abundant chest.

He didn’t want to lose them and gripped onto them.

“That’s right… they were about this big.”

Set in his right hand, he enjoyed a certain softness.



Suddenly, he heard an ardent, agonised sigh.

From directly in front of him too.

“— What?”

Moroha’s eyes flew open.

His dozing and the final fragments of his slumber blew away.

“Morning, Moroha.”

A beautiful girl’s face vividly filled his vision.

“What are you doing, Shizuno?”

Surprised, he reflexively tried to stir, but couldn’t.

The girl, Urushibara Shizuno, had tightly snuggled up to him and was leaning against his chest.

He was having a nice sleep, and suddenly this happened.

He always had to be on his guard.

Shizuno answered nonchalantly.

“‘What?’ I’m getting my breasts felt up.”

“I’m sorry!”

He frantically removed the hand he had grabbed onto Shizuno’s generous breasts with whilst half asleep.

“I can’t let my guard down around you, can I?”

“I was half asleep. I wholeheartedly apologise.”

“I forgive you. In fact, you can touch them more you know?”

Shizuno took his right hand and tried to guide it towards her chest.

“So? That aside, what are you doing here?”

Moroha gently took his hand back and moved the topic onto something else.

Reproaching him for being cold, Shizuno languidly answered as she placed her head on his chest.

“Isn’t it obvious I’m basking in the sun?”

With Shizuno’s full, abundant chest glued to him like this, he was excessively aware of them. They were pressed around his stomach, flattened and giving a pleasant shaking feeling.

He’d just felt them and it brought the indescribable sensation in the palm of his hand back to mind.

“Th-then wouldn’t here be fine?”

Moroha frantically patted the space next to him.

And above all tried to persuade her that they didn’t need to embrace like this to bask in the sun.

This situation wasn’t good.

It really wasn’t good.

“Aren’t I always telling you not to do things that will lower your value as a girl?”

“But, no one can see, you know?”

Indeed, they were alone in the courtyard.

“We’re in plain view from the corridor so…”

Moroha retorted with his eyes half closed.

The majority of students should be in lessons, but there might be some exceptions.

“If I’m with you, I don’t mind falling, you know?”

As if confirming the sensation of his chest, Shizuno slowly rubbed her cheek on him and answered shamelessly.

“Stop it with the jokes.”

To get rid of the seductive mood, Moroha scolded her as if baring fangs.

Shizuno didn’t answer.

However, small dimples appeared at the edge of her mouth.

She had a habit of showing them when she was teasing people and hurling jokes.

“Is it really that fun to tease me…?”

“Yes, it is. So I want to be with you every day, and tease you.”

Moroha was lost for words and astonished.

“…Honestly, if you heard that, it’d obviously be a confession.”

However, she was probably just saying she wanted Moroha as a plaything every day.

What a waste.

“Are you happy, Moroha?”

“Being teased every day is a real nuisance.”

Moroha threw up his hands in surrender as he proclaimed.

Once more, tiny, small dimples appeared on her face.

Since meeting her at the entrance ceremony, it had only been two months.

The length of time might be short, but they’d made deep bonds.

Thus, when there was chance like this, Shizuno would snuggle in close.

So Moroha knew.

Just from seeing these small dimples, that Shizuno was enjoying herself.

But normally, you wouldn’t understand.

Outside of Moroha, no-one would find those dimples.

Shizuno was a girl that lacked that much in expression.

“And she’s so beautiful, it’s a waste.”

Who knew how many times he’d been wrapped in these impressions.

But there was no changing it, Shizuno was that kind of girl.

And then, that reality brought a memory back to Moroha once again.

“Hey, Shizuno,” it had once more brought his question back to mind, “are you really the Witch of the Underworld?”

Who knew how many times he had asked that question.

When a characteristic that made him think of nothing but that appeared, he would ask.

And now, something had come back to mind.

In the dream he’d just witnessed, the witch, lacking in expression.

That witch was beautiful, but she had a mask like face.

Locking eyes with Shizuno at point blank range, they seemed to overlap.

“I… can’t think it’s a coincidence.”

Within this academy, Moroha had exceptionally few memories of his previous lives.

Or more strictly speaking, they were horrendously biased. He only had memories in the middle of battle, he had essentially no memories of what they normally did, or what kind of families they had.

For example, he had a vague knowledge of the existence of the Pluto, Shuu Saura’s right hand woman, known as the Witch of the Underworld or the King’s Assistant Witch, but couldn’t even remember her face.

And then today, finally, he met her in a dream. And then, embracing Shizuno like this brought that back to mind, was it a stretch?

Moroha was silent and awaited her words.


With her jaw still resting on his chest, she tilted her head.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

With her unreadable, mask like face.

Once again.

However many times he asked, she replied the same way.

Saying that it was a misunderstanding.

Moroha strained his eyes further.

To not overlook even the slightest change in her facial expression.

And then, whatever she was thinking, suddenly,

“Do it.”

She closed her eyes and extended her head forwards, approaching Moroha’s face with her lips.

“What are you thinking about!?”

Moroha placed her head firmly between his two hands.

“I was sure you were going to kiss me.”

Shizuno brazenly answered, once more with small dimples.

“Where did you get that idea from?”

“Was I mistaken? Ah, your feelings are hard to read after all.”

“Your feelings are the ones hard to read.”

Astounded, Moroha released her head.

“Then, I’ll tell you what I’m feeling now.”

Suddenly, Shizuno’s lips resumed their advance to Moroha’s.

“I told you, stop playing around.”

To avoid them, Moroha turned his face to the side.

And was startled.

The moment he turned his head, his vision was filled —

“I’d wondered where you had gone, so you were being perverted behind your sister’s back? Yeah? Hmm? Oh.”

With the form of his imposing ‘sister’ with a vein pulsing on her temple.

She was standing a little distance away, glaring with a scary face.

She was a beautiful girl (when she wasn’t angry).

Her eyes were full of vigour (so her anger was scary), vitality flowed from her petite body (so her anger packed a punch), and her bright coloured hair was pulled up in a side-tail which she was irritably playing with.

Her name was Ranjou Satsuki.

In the previous life when Moroha was Flaga, Satsuki’s previous incarnation was his blood related sibling. So even now she called him her brother.

“Where did you hear from?”

In a cold sweat, Moroha timidly asked.

“From ‘you were going to kiss me’, you pervert.”

Satsuki’s mouth was drawn into a line.

“Then listen to ‘Where did you get that idea from?’ as well!”

“Excuses are useless! You kiss freak, Nii-sama, womaniser!”

And above that, her eyes were narrowed.

“The kiss freak is Shizuno! How many times do you think I’ve been made her victim?”

“Ohhh, I only knew about the once. Why don’t you tell me all about the others in the interrogation room, mister victim…?”

Moroha suddenly looked away from her.

Thanks to that, he returned to facing forwards.

“Welcome back.”

As if she’d been lying in wait, Shizuno planted her lips there.

“Gyah! Get away from Nii-sama, Urushibara!”

Satsuki bristled like a cat with its fur on end.

“Anyway! What are you two sneaking out here for!?”

And who was the one that accused them of being perverted just a moment ago?

“Hmm? Basking in the sun.”

Whilst Moroha was thinking that, Shizuno went ahead and answered.

Quicker than Moroha could correct that he wasn’t.

“Then you can do that here!”

Satsuki stomped her feet there.

“Why do you need to cling to him like that!?”

“Hold on a minute, you probably don’t know, but the topic’s already looping, Satsuki.”

“Just how far ahead are you getting!?”

Satsuki really was liable to do anything, Moroha’s face clouded.

“It’s like that, so don’t get in the way, little sister.

As Shizuno added fuel to the fire, Moroha’s face grew cloudier.

“I-I-I-I-I’ll sleep wit— I mean bask in the sun with you! That shouldn’t be in the way, right!?”

With steam coming from her head, she drew in close.

Still lying down, Moroha was sandwiched by Satsuki and Shizuno.

“See, go over there, Urushibara!”

Pushing at Shizuno, Satsuki took his chest and placed her head heavily down.

“That would be getting in the way, Ranjou-san.”

Shizuno pushed Satsuki and reclaimed his chest.

“I’m Moroha’s little sister you know!? So I’ve got the right of precedence!”

Satsuki pushed her off again and drew a boundary that Moroha couldn’t see.

Of course, one giving herself plenty of space.

“Considering you came afterwards, don’t you think that’s shameless?”

Shizuno redrew the boundary on Moroha’s chest.

Of course, one that gave her nearly the entire area.

“It’s got nothing to do with order!”

“Then it has nothing to do with family connections either, does it?”

Satsuki and Shizuno seemed to compete, each redrawing the other’s boundaries.

A war for territory on Moroha’s chest.

Each making a claim, each unwilling to back down.

“If you go even slightly past there, it’s war!”

“Oh, I accept. I’ll turn your territory into scorched earth.”

“You pair, don’t turn my chest into scorched earth.”

Moroha complained at them using a person’s body as a toy.

“Split it evenly, evenly! That’s fair then.”


“If it’s Moroha’s arbitration, there’s no choice but to listen.”

Satsuki and Shizuno both lay down arms and cordially shared Moroha’s chest.

“Just what am I doing…?”

Looking at both beautiful girls on either side, Moroha realised he hadn’t solved the problem at all.

“Honestly, do they get on well, or badly…?”

Each lay their head on half of his chest like twins, watching them happily bask in the sun, Moroha grumbled to himself.

Certainly from looking at them, they were on tenterhooks but, at the same time, Moroha himself was unusually satisfied, and drowsiness approached again.

Just then—

“Alert, moving from Phase 1 to Phase 2 — The White Knight Agency, Japanese Branch has formally requested dispatch of the Strikers. All members and reserves, please gather in the schoolyard.”

An announcer’s voice sounded from the various speakers around the courtyard.

Moroha’s drowsiness vanished and his eyes sharpened.

“Let’s go.”

Shizuno smoothly stood.

“Gu gu gu, just when we were getting to the good bit…”

Whilst she regretfully and spitefully spoke, she gathered her willpower and stood.

“Do your best, Nii-sama. I’ll be cheering you on so do the most.”

Then she stretched a hand out to Moroha.

“Of course, I need to earn my wages.”

Moroha answered without enthusiasm and grabbed her hand and stood.

That’s right, Shizuno had dressed it up in jokes, but Moroha wasn’t basking in the sun.

He was preparing for the battle that was about to start, resting his body and awaiting orders.

He brushed off the dust on his combat uniform.

The dust danced, and blew away in the wind, just like the sweet content feeling from earlier.

Accompanied by the two girls, he resolutely strode to the schoolyard.


In the courtyard, there were already twelve students clad in combat uniform.

“We’re all here then.”

Standing right in the centre was a tall, lean man who saw Moroha and nodded.

He was a third year with a hard face but an honest countenance.

His name was Isurugi Jin.

Akane Academy had a group called the Strikers.

An elite unit that Moroha was part of.

A group of Saviours that were given the qualifications and honour to go out into live combat.

The best were chosen from amongst the entire school, a mere thirteen elites.

Those monsters’ king, the leader of the Strikers, was Isurugi.

“Then, I’ll open the gate.”

Solemnly proclaimed the beautiful woman waiting next to him.

She wore a business woman like suit, and a witch-like pointy hat that somehow went together.

She wasn’t a student. The principal of the academy was this person.

Including Moroha, the Strikers all corrected their posture and assented.

Sweeping away her luxurious blonde hair so it wouldn’t get in the way, her blue eyes congealed in seriousness.


Her slender finger traced lines of light into the empty air, spinning ancient magical characters.


I long for my home. I long for nostalgia.

Oh my hometown, across the distance, thousands of miles distant, tens and tens of thousands of miles away.

Oh land of the past, out of my reach,

I am deluded, I am hateful,

Take these feelings and curtail the distance between us,

Take this curse and warp the world between us.

Her glamourous red lips vividly chanted the spell, as if singing.

The principal’s mana rose and the atmosphere screamed as a noisy wind blew.

Then, further swallowing the forces of nature, the surroundings suddenly darkened.

As if the area had suddenly entered dusk.


In the courtyard, a point of pallid blue light appeared.

The light gradually strengthened, spreading out in a circle.

Slowly, slowly, like a blot eating away at the world, it drew a geometric design, until it finally constructed a pallid blue magic circle.

With that, the principal let out a sigh of satisfaction.

It was without a doubt a witch’s technique.

A fantastic spectacle.

However, it was an everyday thing at Akane Academy and no-one was surprised.

Then, at the leader, Isurugi’s command, the students chorused.

“We are the ‘Saviours’!”

“We are the ‘Strike’ for our people, our peace and our justice!”

Isurugi nodded firmly and took a step forward.

Into the pallid blue magic circle.

As if he had stepped into a fountain, his body sunk within the light.

With the reservists supporting and watching them go, one by one the members continued after.

“You’d better be first.”

Satsuki encouraged Moroha once more.

“You’ll bring me a souvenir, right?”

Shizuno relaxed things with a joke.

Moroha thanked them both with his eyes, and finally leapt into the circle.

It was as if he’d just strolled to a nearby place.

In a natural stance, without getting worked up, without removing his daring smile.

A discomfort pressed in on him, as if the heavens and earth had suddenly been reversed, but he was already used to it.

In a little under a second, Moroha stepped out from the circle.

The scenery had completely changed.

Where the magic circle let out was an area thickly overgrown with trees.

Wherever you looked there was an infinite series of twisted tree trunks, the spread branches and leaves formed a natural roof and the ground was so overgrown with grass and moss that there was barely a place to stand.

The sun’s light was distant, almost as if the scenery were haunted.

There wasn’t the slightest whiff of man-made things like asphalt or concrete.

Only the thick scent of the greenery filled Moroha’s nose, tightening his awareness.

From the preliminary reports, this was deep within the Hida Mountain range.

The area was separated from Akane academy by several hundred kilometres and they had instantaneously moved there.

Through the Erratic Portal the principal had made.

“All members, prepare for combat. The report says the target is approximately five kilometres ahead.”

With a grim stare, Isurugi glared northwards.

“We’re playing this by the book. Momochi. Haimura.”


At Isurugi’s call, an energetic, short haired second year girl cheerfully came forwards.

Moroha followed at her right.

“Both of you will advance and perform reconnaissance. Even if it’s just one thing, dig up as much information on the target as you can.”

At his order, Moroha and Momochi shot off like arrows.

Moroha’s entire body was enveloped in a radiant white light, and Momochi’s in a radiant blue.

It was the light of the power that communicated with the divine — namely, Prana.

The two of them gained explosive leg strength and sprinted into the mountains with God Speed Link.

They rushed through the trees like a gale, leaping from branch to branch like animals, dashing along a trackless path.

If you were to look from above, you would probably be able to discern two lines of light, blue and white being drawn abnormally quickly.

Sometimes zig-zagging between tree trunks, sometimes mixing as if in a dance of splendour, they rushed north.

“How shall we attack today, Moroha?”

The short haired upperclassman, Momochi spoke as if gossiping, whilst running parallel.

“Isn’t the same as normal fine?”

Moroha replied half-heartedly, whilst continuing to sprint at full speed.

However, they weren’t foolish enough to look to the side or to bite their tongues.

“Hey hey, how about we get it on our own?”

“It won’t end well if we get carried away?”

“It’s a joke! You’re too damned serious.”

“That’s because I’d like to collect my wages.”

They cracked jokes as they travelled on foot through the trees, at superhuman speeds.

She and Moroha competed for first and second users of God Speed Link in Akane Academy.

To them, even this trail that animals would find difficult, it was like walking across a garden.

“I’m counting on you for support, partner!”

“Sure thing.”

After getting close one last time and high-fiving, the two split to the left and right as if repelled apart.

In front of them, already visible —

Was a roughly dozen metre tall black panther like monster.

It was unreasonably tall for a creature in the feline family.

And moreover, its eyes glittered gold.

They weren’t reflecting the sun, they themselves were letting off light, flickering like flames.

That alone, whilst it was crouched in a clearing, stood out.

At that very moment it was eating, it had brought down a bear and was indulging in its meat.

From its oral cavity, a rubber hose like tongue, or some other grotesque organ, extended, deeply thrust into the bear’s throat and was sucking from inside as if it were a vacuum cleaner.

It was a frightful form of predation.

Therefore, just from a glance, anyone could tell.

This discomfiting creature shouldn’t be on this blue planet.

It shouldn’t exist.

It couldn’t exist.

Namely, a Metaphysical.

A natural enemy of all living things that could only be defeated by Saviours.

The monster noticed their approach.

It retracted its rubber hose like tongue into its mouth and raised its head.

Its two, disembodied soul like eyes were fixated on Moroha.

There was still more than a hundred metres between them.

Regardless, a ferocious thirst for blood, so much so that it reeked of the stench of blood, reached him, making his skin crawl.

Letting the grotesque flood of bloodlust wash over him, Moroha—

“Come, Saratiga…!”

Smiled daringly and raised his right hand.

His ID tag was already within his grip.

Pouring prana into it, it instantly changed shape.

It extended like red hot metal, and Saratiga was manifest in his right hand.

“…First one attack. Let’s see its toughness.”

Moroha pushed a huge amount of prana into the longsword.

The blade gathered a white light, as if shining in the sun above them.

Whether the fighting intent had reached it, the Metaphysical prepared for battle.

Suddenly, the black hair all over its body stood on end, sharp like a hedgehog.

Solely because of its sheer size, each of those needle was like a javelin, holding a brutality.

The Metaphysical roared like an animal.

Simultaneously, it fired all of its needles at Moroha.

It was like a rain of arrows fired by an entire battalion, they came flying in, filling the sky.


Momochi shrieked from where she had separated too.

However, Moroha didn’t falter.

He raised his sword overhead, and with a downward slash, released the prana he had thickened inside.

A violent blade of wind welled forth, enough to mow down the trees before him.

A white wind of destruction, with plenty of Moroha’s prana riding along with it.

It raged like a tornado, swallowing the oncoming needles, smashing them and all together pulverising them.

Ancestral Arts, Jupiter.

A high class light technique that not many could use, even at Akane Academy.

After blowing away the needles, the aftershocks struck the Metaphysical.

Even its huge body faltered.


Not letting that opportunity go to waste, Momochi suddenly got in close and sliced with her short sword.

Consecutive, high speed attacks that would allow her to be mistaken for splitting into four.

One flash, two, three, four, with each fluttering of her sword, the sound of it being deflected rang out.

“This one’s pretty tough, Moroha!”

With it having fur that could change to needles, it was within reason, Moroha nodded lightly.

After being sliced at by Momochi, the Metaphysical noisily stirred, and its fur all stood on end once again.

In a panic, Momochi leapt back, but the grotesque monster fired half of its needles after her.

“Didn’t I say I was counting on you!”

Being pursued by several hundred needles, Momochi let out a high pitched scream.

“And I said sure thing.”

In the meantime, Moroha had rushed to her side.

With his empty left hand, he wrote a single phrase in the empty air.

“Fire discriminates not against good nor evil as it burns and purifies with ferocious mercy.”

The characters of light became fire, burning away the hundreds of needles assailing her.

Not one needle was allowed to pass.

It was one of the Ancestral Arts, dark art, Flare.

By the classification of the White Knight Order, there were two types of Saviours.

Those that used superhuman martial arts, light techniques, White Steels.

And those that used magic like dark arts, Black Mages.

Save one exception, there were no other types of Saviours.

Haimura Moroha was that exception.

The only one in recorded history to have two past lives, an Ancient Dragon.

Therefore, he could use both light techniques, and dark arts.

Enraged at its attack being interfered with, the Metaphysical fired the remaining needles, this time at Moroha.

However, using the embers of his previous Flare, he burnt those away as well.

Several hundred needles vanished instantly.

“Could it be weak to fire!?”

Being barely saved, Momochi yelled in delight.

“It might be tough like metal, but fur is still fur.”

Moroha in the end, quietly began an experiment like a scientist, to confirm it.


His left hand once again drew ancient magic characters in the empty air.

This time it wasn’t one line, it was three.

“Over here, you!”

To buy time, Momochi made a pass at it with her sword.

The mostly unintelligent monster turned its angry golden eyes towards her.

Its whole body’s fur once again stood on end — but it was already too late.

“All people die and return to dust, now, let the rites of cremation begin.”

Moroha’s third step dark art was complete.

Its name was Incinerate.

Flames incomparable to before were made manifest, and engulfed the Metaphysical’s entire body.

The grotesque monster let out an unbearable roar of pain and writhed around.

Suddenly an awful smell akin to burning protein enveloped the area.

“Good job, Moroha.”

“Don’t let your guard down yet, something might happen.”

As Moroha said, even whilst covered in flames, the Metaphysical slowly rose.

Within the flickering, bright red flames, golden, disembodied soul like eyes burned brighter.

That unnatural vitality was another of the terrifying things about Metaphysicals.

“Do you think fire on top of fire will work…?”

Momochi was overawed and forgot about the attack.

“Who knows, we can try that too—“

Grabbing her shoulder, he retreated in God Speed Link whilst answering.

“— This time with everyone.”

As he sensed the presence of the other eleven that had finally arrived.


Akane Academy’s schoolyard was filled with cheers.

All of the classroom windows were open and the students within were giving thunderous applause.

Applause celebrating the wonderful extermination of a Metaphysical by the Strikers, and their triumphant return.

The whole fight had been recorded by staff of the White Knight Order and streamed live to the monitors in the classrooms and the huge screens in the schoolyard.

Everyone saw and admired the Strikers’ strength, they looked up to it, and some pined for the members.

The students were nearly all in a frenzy, calling their favourite member’s names.

The girls calling Moroha’s name, the super rookie who’d quickly risen to an ace, were particularly prevalent.

“I’m fine with being a mistress, so love me, Haimura-kun~♥”

Resulting in these high pitched voices gushing forth.

Returning the same way they left, by the principal’s Etheric Portal, the somewhat ardent voices washed over Moroha, and he could only tilt his head.

“It’s already the fourth time you’ve gone, are you still not used to this mood?”

The principal, who happened to be next to him, winked playfully.

As expected of an adult’s presence, it was very amorous.

“Ah, well.”

Moroha performed reconnaissance on newly appeared Metaphyscials and investigated all of their fighting capabilities, thanks to that, the group had been able to fight so much more safely.

But Moroha himself wasn’t aware of it and even receiving the principal’s praise just made him self-conscious.

“I think you’re the amazing one.”

He didn’t want to stand there and keep having praise heaped on him, so tried a counter attack.

Moroha hadn’t yet completely escaped the sense of normal people and felt that a dark art which instantly connected two areas hundreds of kilometres apart was certainly extraordinary.

“I suppose so. With this we can send you anywhere and anytime a Metaphysical appears.”

The principal puffed up slightly with an embarrassed cough.

This technique and usage of the Strikers were large and valid reasons she had been appointed the important role of principal at a young twenty.

Indeed —

This Etheric Portal couldn’t be used by anyone other than her, so it was a secret technique among secret techniques, classified as an Origin.

In actuality, even in Shuu Saura’s memories, he didn’t know of such a cheat ability.


“Isn’t ‘anywhere and anytime’ exaggerating too much?”

Isurugi, returning last through the magic circle corrected the principal.

The vanguard leaving and the rear-guard returning was the captain’s policy.

Before Moroha enlisted, the dangerous reconnaissance was wholly done by Isurugi.

In other words, it showed just how much trust he was putting in Moroha, but enough of that.

“The Etheric Portal should have several conditions on its usage. You should always keep that in mind when teaching a rookie like Haimura-kun.”

This demon of responsibility opined to the principal, feared as the Modern Witch.

“I’ve got it, geez. I’ll properly teach next time, so let’s just celebrate for now?”

The principal raised her hands in surrender.

Privately, Moroha thought that she needn’t ever teach him. He already had a smattering of knowledge from Shizuno before and received a litany of small, troublesome conditions like ‘it can only be used once a day’. If the principal knew that, then it was fine, Moroha didn’t feel he had to ask and learn.

That aside, Isurugi looked over all the member’s faces and gave thanks in a grand voice.

“Good work, ladies and gentlemen. We were able to dispatch the Metaphysical without any casualties. It’s entirely a product of your hard work. I’m grateful as your commander.”

They were words to rescind and dissolve the proclamation of a state of emergency.

The reserve corps who were surrounding them at a distance came rushing in.

“You worked hard today too, Nii-sama!”

The very first thing Satsuki did was wrap her arms around his neck.


They could hear mocking whistles from the other members.

“Don’t hug me out here like this.”

“It’s fine, we’re brother and sister after all!”

At that, Moroha was lost for words.

He smelt the rising sweet smell of a girl and was startled, worrying “Don’t I smell of sweat now?”

He’d promised to try and think of her as his sister, but the outcome was poor.

With the excessive skinship with a beautiful girl like this every day, even saying “It’s your sister, so think of it as sticks and stones.” Couldn’t control the speeding of his heart.

“Where did Shizuno go?”

Moroha asked, looking off into the distance.

It was half to hide his embarrassment, and half because he was actually curious at where Shizuno had gone.

“Mugh, forget about other girls! This is the happy turn of siblings safely re-uniting, right?”

Satsuki gripped him tighter with a sulky look.

“Aren’t the reserves supposed to gather here, whether they like it or not?”

Shizuno had the bad habit of ‘seriously not wanting to be a student’.

Moroha was worried whether that had surfaced again.

“She was called by, I think the Chairman? Whilst you were fighting.”

Answered Satsuki reluctantly.

Moroha’s unease deepened.

Akane Academy had the appearance of a private school, and a chairman placed as a manager.

However, as opposed to the principal, who was surprisingly open hearted and often around the students, Moroha had not once seen the chairman’s face since entering the school. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say he didn’t know him at all.

“What do they want with Shizuno…?”

While holding a playful Satsuki, Moroha thought half absentmindedly.

“Mugh. What are you making that worried face for, it’s only Urushibara!”

“Ah, sorry. But aren’t you curious?”

Moroha raised an eyebrow at Satsuki’s dissatisfaction.

“Hmm, well, if I had to say, I am… maybe.”

Satsuki pondered whilst holding her jaw.

The chairman and Shizuno.

Just what connection did those two people have?

If they were to compare —.

The excitement of risking his life in battle, the joy of victory, the still-lingering cheers of the students.

None of them could reach him.


While the Strikers were fighting the Metaphysical.

A man stood at the window in the chairman’s office.

His hands were clasped behind his back as he gazed on the screen in the schoolyard.

He focussed on how the Strikers fought, or more precisely, on how Moroha conducted himself.

Moroha using both light techniques and dark arts before his eyes was irresistible.

On the serious face of the man, his lips slowly curved into a smile.

Simply because he couldn’t resist.

Like that, the man placed a hand into his pocket and withdrew a ringing phone.

Without moving his gaze even an atom from Moroha, he answered.

Hello, Tadanori, are you well?

And heard amiable, beautifully pronounced English.

Exceedingly so.

The man called Tadanori fluently used English and responded respectfully.

Oh? Did something good happen?

Right now, I’m watching that Haimura Moroha’s fighting style.

How nice! Then, how is the Ancient Dragon? As expected?

Indeed, it’s a shame you can’t receive this video.

Neither of us make these things public, there’s no helping it.

True. Well, it’s good that you’ll soon be able to watch in person.

Continuing the private conversation, the man’s gaze still didn’t waver from Moroha.

Like a snake, his cruelly calculating gaze remained fixed.

I phoned about that. My schedule allows me to be in Japan next week, so I’ll be counting on you.

I shall be waiting, Sir.

The man politely hung up.

The one on the other end of the phone was an outstanding Saviour, and an easy person to talk to.

An accomplice going straight along with his plan.

His footwork was light and to quickly co-operate he promised to arrive in Japan.

Just a little further, to reinforce his plan, some preparations were required.

“The Ancient Dragon has finally appeared, and appeared in my country at that. I must make the best use of this once in a lifetime fortune.”

As he monologued, Shizuno knocked at the door.

Earlier, he had summoned her.

The man sat at his desk and called for her to enter.

She would certainly have to take on a role in his scheme.


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