Hentai King System

"Fufun, it seems you've learned my power. A wonderful magic, isn't it?"

Aria's lips lifted faintly.

That smile was like the composed grin a hunter showed after cornering prey.

Glossy, yet cold enough to make one shudder.

"No, it's a magic of the worst taste. The caster's humanity comes out."

"…You do say things. Even though it's the proof that I've worked hard at 'condemnation execution.'"

The swords floating there.

Named swords, nameless swords, old swords, brand-new swords.

They differed in shape, history, and owners, but they had one thing in common.

All of them were weapons confiscated from sinners Aria had "condemnation executed." Every time she judged evil, her magic had absorbed those weapons and turned them into power.

"Well, fine. I'll add your sword to the collection too. Submit quietly to 'condemnation execution.'"

Aria's tone already had no mercy.

Like an official announcing a prescribed procedure, she pronounced it solemnly and coldly.

"Do it if you can!"

"I will without being told!"

The instant Aria's voice split the air, the mana around her converged all at once.

The Scale Sword was raised high, and its sharp light dominated vision like a flash.

The blade swung down from above was truly a flash of judgment.

And as if answering, the surrounding swords roared all at once and assailed Rigel.

Each blow, as if housing the memories and anger of sinners judged in the past, mercilessly and accurately sealed his escape routes.

And so the fight between Rigel and Aria grew more intense.

The midday sun beat down from directly above, and the white marble arena shone with heat, glittering steadily.

While narrowing their eyes at that glare, the audience held their breath and poured their gazes on the two students.

Academy Martial Arts Tournament, third round.

The first-year Rigel who had shown unexpected advancement, and Aria, a third-year serving as Discipline Committee chair.

The two's combat had grown heated beyond the audience's expectations.

"Fun!"

Together with a roar Rigel's sword swung down.

Pale blue mana wrapped the blade, and a glittering crescent shockwave raced forward.

That trajectory was like lightning running in broad daylight.

The floating swords Aria controlled, the collection group she had taken from those she "condemnation executed," were swallowed by the shockwave with no room to evade and shattered in an instant.

Broken blades smashed against the marble, and sparks and reflected light danced around like stardust.

Screams and cheers welled up from the audience seats at the same time.

"…They got broken again."

Lightly evading a blade fragment that almost hit her toes, Aria muttered in a cool voice.

At her waist hung the "Scale Sword," a dangerous sword counted among the national treasures.

"With this, the swords controlled by your [Blade Marionette] or whatever are wiped out. You mistook your way of fighting, Aria."

While breathing with his shoulders Rigel lowered his stance and readied his sword again.

Apparently the earlier blow had consumed him greatly.

That rough breathing barely reminded one that he was still human.

"That's true, it's a shame the collection was destroyed. But if I can condemn you here, that's enough as the price."

"…"

Rigel stayed silent and did not answer.

Aria's voice was quiet, but the certainty seeping there was cold as steel, thin and pointed.

She moved her hand as if brushing hair from her shoulder, then touched the hilt of the sword at her waist with one hand.

Even that gesture was somehow sacred and cold, as if it were part of a goddess's ritual of passing condemnation.

"You poured a large amount of mana into your own sword to destroy mine… It's ability worthy of praise, but you're on the verge of running dry, aren't you?"

"So what. Even without mana I haven't lost my sword. From here it's a contest of pure sword technique. I'll show you the strength of the swordsmanship club."

Rigel readied his sword.

There was no hesitation in the movement, and a will of steel rode that blade as form.

But—

"Sorry to betray your expectations, but I won't do a swordsmanship contest. There's no need. As long as I have this Scale Sword."

"What?"

Aria held the sword out horizontally.

The scale crest began to pulse faintly.

The audience held their breath, and a stir rose.

One of the Seven Treasure Swords, the "Scale Sword of Condemnation," was about to show its true worth.

"[Enslavement Magic]"

The instant a whisper-like voice fell, purple-silver light welled up from her feet.

It wriggled like mist crawling up from an abyss, then formed a geometric magic circle.

The air changed all at once.

It grew heavy as if bearing moisture, and a pressure that clung to the depths of the lungs wrapped the whole body.

(…Come to think of it, I've heard of it. [Enslavement Magic], a national-class magic packed into the national treasure Scale Sword. It compares the mana amounts of caster and target, and the one with less is enslaved to the one with more… The effect is enormous, and in exchange the risk is large. That magic, from this girl?)

Rigel observed the Scale Sword.

While that was happening, purple-silver mana threads stretched from the magic circle toward the two of them.

Which one should become the master.

To discern that balance, the scale was measuring right now.

"Fufun."

Aria's mouth loosened.

More than composure, the color of certainty that had even passed confidence was on that expression.

She must have placed absolute trust in her own mana amount.

"You look happy, Aria. Convinced of victory?"

"I'll know soon."

The answering voice was calm itself.

There was no hesitation or confusion there, only the firm belief of a "condemner."

The air she wore froze the heat of the audience seats that had been stirring only a few seconds ago.

(…Rigel. This year's new student, S-class for what it's worth. Some connection got him selected for the Health Committee, and he was active in the swordsmanship club too. And in this Academy Martial Arts Tournament he has come this far to the third round… A man of unknown identity, full of mysteries.)

Aria's thoughts were like a prosecutor standing in court.

That completely composed attitude also got on her nerves as if hiding something.

Even the smile was stuck on like a mask, and the inside could not be seen.

(But it doesn't matter how much talent you have. A beastly fiend is a target of condemnation. And your magic control technique is considerable, but your mana amount isn't that much. It doesn't come close to mine.)

Quietly, yet burning hot inside, Aria was certain.

His combat technique was not bad.

But if the foundation of power was brittle, it would never last.

If she crushed him with her overwhelming mana amount, that would be the end.

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