Editing Apocalypse Witch:Volume4 Chapter2 (section)

===Part 2===

The bed creaked and shook a little.

Then something felt wrong near his eyelids.

“Sacri-sama.”

A familiar voice reached Karuta’s ear, but his mind could not figure out what was going on.

“Sacri-sama, it is morning. You need to wake up.”

“Nh, huh?”

He tried to shake his oddly heavy head.

When he finally opened his eyes, he found Aine’s face unusually close by. Her silver hair was hanging down and tickling his cheeks. She appeared to have crawled up onto his bed like a puppy begging to play on a weekend morning.

Her breath was sweet. Despite her favorite food being pure gold.

“Good morning, Sacri-sama.”

“I had the second-to-last match yesterday, so if they follow the tournament bracket, my match today should be in the latter half – so in the afternoon. I still have time, so just let me get some more sleep.”

“Sleep would be useful, but that thing is buzzing. It refuses to stop.”

Crawling Aine pointed to where his phone was charging on the bedside table.

“That can’t be good.”

“Agreed. But doesn’t it mean things are already underway?”

He sighed and grabbed his phone without getting up.

He had received a short message.

“Stardust (for tournament staff only): The match order has been changed. Mr. Utagai, please report to the contestant waiting room. Your match will begin soon.”

After a moment, he clicked his tongue, left the messaging app, and made an actual phone call.

But not to the tournament staff.

“Hello, hello, hello! This is Cinderella Queen’s work phone. What do you need?”

“You have a private and a work phone, Delane? Anyway, what is going on? I was sure my match would be in the afternoon. Have all the other matches ended almost immediately or something?”

“Oh, that. No, this is purely a show business thing.”

Cinderella Queen’s light tone made him wonder if she was really aware his life was on the line here.

“As I’m sure you are aware, Karuta, the majority of the focus on the tournament is centered on you. Some want to see you win and others want to see you suffer a humiliating defeat. So we can’t let people think your matches will always be in the afternoon. Then no one would bother watching the morning ones, right?”

“…”

“So who fights who is still following the original bracket, but we’ve shuffled around when your matches will be. That way the audience can’t let their guard down for a second. Now, this is a gamble for us too. We’re using up your valuable match in the morning. But if we didn’t do that, it would only spread the impression that we’re going through the boring matches in the morning. We need to make this risky move to keep everyone on their toes☆”

This was more bad news for Karuta.

Without much time before his match, he wouldn’t be able to gather much information on his opponent.

(Damn. How much were the string pullers involved in this decision? The problem is this could be exactly what Delane says it is – no conspiracy required.)

“Anyway, give us another good fight today. Whether you survive or die on the mat, make sure you put on a real show to give me lots and lots of viewers.”

“Which match is mine?”

“Round 2 Match 2.”

“Oh, hell. That’s the very next one!!”

He hung up and got out of bed. He would only have time to shower and change, not even to eat breakfast.

“What should I do?” asked Aine.

“For now, give me whatever information you have on my opponent and then continue gathering more! This isn’t like before! All of the contestants fought in Round 1, so that analysis should be a lot easier!!”

He spoke quickly while grabbing a notepad from the bedside table and jotting down a quick list with a ballpoint pen.

*Basic data, such as opponent’s name, sex, age, height, and weight

*Background information, such as education level, religion, occupation, and combat experience

*Any martial arts, magic, etc. they specialize in

*What kind of equipment they will have with them and what kind of magic it uses

“Listen, Aine. We don’t have time for you to investigate everything, so focus on getting me just these things for now.”

“Understood. But I cannot guarantee I can find all of this on such short notice.”

“?”

That was unusually vague for cold and mechanical Aine.

Unlike the first round, they would have match footage for everyone this time. This was an international tournament being viewed the world over. Just by pausing that and viewing it in slow motion, they would be able to gather so much more information so much faster than before. (Of course, Karuta’s opponent could analyze him in the same way.)

“We have no footage to use.”

He wasn’t sure what she could mean by that.

He grabbed his phone again.

“Hold on. But this year’s Catastrophe is being streamed worldwide! And there are more than a million spectator drones flying around!! How in the world could there be no footage to analyze!?”

Aine did not tilt her head.

That told him this was not even a mystery to her.

“According to Miss Kyouka, that global livestreaming is in fact the problem. The broadcaster that spent so much money for the broadcast rights cannot have phone and drone footage spreading freely across the internet, so special protections have been added to the remote audience’s viewing data. They can watch it real-time, but they cannot save or upload the footage, meaning none of it can be found on ordinary video sites.”

“But what about the broadcaster’s site? We can just use the officially released-!!”

“They have been having server trouble since last night,” answered Aine before he was even done with his question.

Refusing to believe this, he tapped at his phone several times, but it was true. He could open the official site’s top page, but he would either get an error message or nothing at all when he tried to go any deeper. Searching for and playing those high-quality videos was completely out of the question.

“They claim to have underestimated the traffic they would receive as the only global source, but the truth of the matter is unknown. Miss Kyouka said it might be a DDoS attack disguised as no more than heavy traffic.”

Karuta held a hand to his forehead.

Another bad coincidence. But it wasn’t enough to prove the human string pullers were behind this or to track them down. He wanted to suspect every new thing that happened, but if he took that too far, he would succumb to paranoia. Which was exactly what the string pullers wanted.

Some of his classmates might have seen the previous day’s matches, but he had no time. If he couldn’t directly ask his friends, any information would be at least thirdhand: Classmate -> Aine -> Karuta. Could he really get accurate information through that game of telephone? Thinking he knew the answer could only end badly. In a deadly battle where mere moments could be the difference between life and death, an inaccurate idea could lead directly to his death.

With information of dubious accuracy, he would have no idea what was useful and what was a landmine. That would only get him killed.

Even if his classmates were legitimately trying to help.

(So malice isn’t all I have to watch out for. What a pain.)

He sighed.

“Then we’ll just have to deal with it. Aine, go out and directly gather whatever information you can find for that list I gave you. Knowing what exactly it is we ''don’t'' know is a useful strategy too. If I only have one or two blanks left, I can focus on getting those things out of them during the match.”

“That I can do,” said Aine. “Athabaskan Rio Grande. Age: 27. Sex: male. According to Miss Kyouka’s official paperwork, he is registered as a Native American shaman.”

“So the people famous for their tomahawks and gunstock war clubs? I can’t really picture what kind of martial arts someone like that would use. But if they have their own unique weapons, they must have their own ways of using them.”

“Correct. Although your conception appears to be drawn from all across North America. But you need to focus on the occult, not the martial arts. That means his native magic. He apparently uses totem curses, but the details are unknown. I will focus on that in my continued investigation.”

“Got it. Then I’ll just have to fill in the rest of the blanks in the ring.”

Kyouka had the paperwork, but he was short on time. He couldn’t read through a stack of papers thicker than the phonebook at this point.

Once he met this man in the ring, he would be able to see his basic physical attributes and what equipment he had. And Aine had announced she would look into the magical details. It scared Karuta to not know how big or muscular this man was, but he really needed to focus on any secret martial arts.

“I don’t have time for breakfast, but I should still take a shower since I’ll be on camera. …Wait, where’s my towel?”

“In here.”

“Wait, Aine- gwah! Wh-why are you crawling inside me!?”

He shouted, but the crystal girl had already bent over at the hips and stuck her head into him near the navel. After some rummaging around, she pulled out a large towel. Karuta and Aine were linked. Technically speaking, she was the crystal armor that emerged from within a crystal magician’s body, but she had lately started using the space inside him as a second room for herself.

Trying to explain why this bothered him was meaningless since she wasn’t human, so he sighed, accepted the towel, and walked to the bathroom.

He didn’t have time to fill the tub, so he took a hot shower instead. And then it occurred to him.

“Wait. Aine, why did you have my towel? Isn’t that space inside me where you go for privacy?”

He heard an odd crashing sound beyond the door.

This was unusual. Had Miss Unbeatable Swordswoman tripped and fallen?

“Um, Aine?”

“Nothing is wrong. I am not flustered. Everything is perfectly normal.”

She stopped him from asking anything, so he responded while massaging his shampoo-covered head with his palms.

“Well, as long as you weren’t sleeping with it wrapped around you or something. Not that you would do that. You’re not a kitten that can’t sleep without curling up inside some clothing covered in its master’s scent.”

He heard an even louder crash from beyond the door.

“???”

He went to the effort of using conditioner, quickly dried his hair with the hairdryer, and donned his sports shirt and short-sleeved dress shirt.

He left the bathroom to find Aine inexplicably down on all fours with her small butt sticking out toward him and her head looking back at him over her shoulder.

If he didn’t know better, he would have thought she was trembling with tears in the corners of her eyes and a flush in her cheeks.

“Sacri-sama,” said the crystal girl in her mechanical way. “I have heard human culture includes a process known as confession.”

“Sorry, but I don’t have time for that. And I’m not a priest, so I don’t know how it’s done.”

Karuta checked the remaining battery and the heft of his modified military flashlight before sticking it in his pocket to finish his preparations. Aine slowly stood up, straightened her back, and lowered her head in an impeccable bow.

“Take care.”

“I will. But don’t forget one thing,” he replied while they left his dorm room. “''Someone out there'' is using this tournament to get at us. They must have set things up to get me killed in the ring, so don’t assume you’re safe just because you aren’t in the ring too. In fact, those behind-the-scenes areas are their hunting ground. Same as us.”

He parted ways with the crystal girl.

They each had their own battles to fight.

They were not alone by any means, but they could not immediately come to the other’s rescue if anything happened.

If he hoped to survive the day, he had to fight for himself.

(Now, back to that cell of a waiting room.)

“Ah!”

He heard a quiet shriek when he turned a corner after avoiding the school’s rock band carrying their instruments.

He had nearly run into someone coming the other way.

“S-s-s-sorry! Huh!? Are you Utagai Karuta!!!???”

“''Hello. You do know visitors aren’t allowed in this area, don’t you?''”

He reflexively switched over to his public mode.

He did not recognize this small girl. She wore her black hair in a bob cut and she was dressed in a light green – maybe even a yellowish-green – kimono. She was even shorter than Aine and he wasn’t sure if she always wore a kimono or if she was dressed up for a special occasion. Either way, that had to be hot in this equatorial region where most girls had their tanned midriffs showing. The hat on her head was the only thing she had to fight the sun.

She had some tears in her eyes as she explained why she was here.

“Um, I was looking for my sister, but I’ve never been on such a confusing ship before. You said I’m not allowed here, but where is here exactly?”

“I see. Then follow me. But next time you get lost, just ask a tournament staff or a teacher for help. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Letnahe soon arrived after hearing the commotion, so he left the girl with her (since she was technically a teacher).

And the gym teacher whispered to him so the kimono girl couldn’t hear.

“(Are you sure you can do this? You don’t look very prepared.)”

“(I’ll make it work. Because I’m dead if I don’t.)”

That was all he said before continuing on to the contestant waiting room.

With the sunlight pouring down on the broad deck, the whole place looked inappropriately bright. A metal container sat there. That was the temporary room that would carry him to the cage of death. He opened the double doors, stepped inside, and locked it from the inside, blocking his view of anything outside.

He sat in the chair bolted to the floor.

The order of the matches had been shuffled around, so he had not had any time for investigation. He had to go into his fight against Athabaskan Rio Grande, a specialist in Native American curses, very nearly blind.

(I can do this.)

He felt his balance shift.

The tiltrotor must have lifted the container with a thick wire.

(Remember how cheap and underhanded you can be. Reinstall your identity as the boy who will swallow mud if it gets him what he wants. After going through hell to reach this point, I’m not going to let anything else defeat me now.)

He felt a low tremor below his feet. He had arrived. A cold announcement came over the speaker installed on the wall.

“Your match will begin shortly. Mr. Utagai, please step out into the ring.”

“…”

He stood up from the chair and walked to the double doors.

His second deadly match was about to begin.

He opened the door to see the blue sky, cumulonimbus clouds, and the scorching sunshine.

Cheerleaders and drink sellers in swimsuits were located here and there in the stands.

This morning match felt wrong in a different way from the yesterday’s afternoon one. Karuta grimaced at the deluge of light and sound that hit him, but then an even louder boom came from the gondola supported by a crane.

“Once again, I, Cinderella Queen, will be providing the commentary☆ I’m showing off my super-cute nurse costume today, so if you get a limb blown off, I’ll make sure to kiss it and make it better! And without further ado, I’ll introduce you to Round 2 Match 2’s contestants.”

The child commentator with bluish-silver hair was being her usual edgy self.

She directed the crowd’s attention toward Karuta first.

“First up, we have one of the Four Living Gods – the guy willing to play dirty to cling to his position as the world’s strongest! Now, which is louder – the voices calling for him to win, or the ones calling for him to go down? He’s one of the world’s cutting edge crystal magicians – it’s Utagaaai Kaarutaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!”

Cinderella Queen must have been responding to ''popular demand'' based on an analysis of the many comments posted on the official streaming site (perhaps from people who had lost their bets in the first round) because she was being a lot harsher than yesterday.

But none of it actually got through to Karuta. Because he had something much more horrifying in front of him. Even he could tell his pupils were narrowing down.

(Oh, damn.)

“Next, we have the man who conquered his first deadly battle by becoming the ultimate weapon. This Native American crossed the deserts of North America to make it here today and his totem curses can bend nature’s power to his will, but is that really enough to defeat the highly artificial crystal magic?”

(''Really? That’s what we’re doing here!?'')

“This charming ''modern mercenary'' is rocking a thick bulletproof vest and a mobility-boosting leg powered suit with a 12-gauge shotgun accessory that really brings the ensemble together. It’s Athabaskaaaaaan Rio Grandeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!”

Karuta heard the unique metallic sound of a firearm.

He had to play the role of the strongest to avoid a global explosion of social unrest, so he could not escape this ring. He gulped as silently as possible and lifted the detonating cord ropes to climb into the ring. Then the poles in the corners glowed red to announce the explosives were switched on. The deadly cage had been shut behind him.

Athabaskan Rio Grande.

The muscular black-haired man had to be at least 180cm tall. He looked like a mass of muscles roughly carved from heavy stone.

Plus, that body was protected by a cutting-edge black bulletproof vest with plenty of belts and pouches holding spare ammo and grenades. He even wore machines on his legs to mechanically boost their abilities.

He was a Native American.

He used totem curses.

Karuta had been misled by that information. Whoever his opponents were and whatever magic they might use, they were still residents of the modern world. That meant they could use everything human civilization had developed.

That pitch black shotgun made of a special alloy and plastic looked far too sinister in a ring of only 20m. And if Cinderella Queen hadn’t just made it up to make things sound more exciting, then it was a 12 gauge. That was the ultimate weapon found in zombie movies. A direct hit from that at close range would tear his torso in two without even giving him a chance to regenerate.

“Oh, hey,” continued Cinderella Queen. “What’s this it says the shotgun is loaded with? Triple aught f- oh, that’s a ‘b’. Boring.”

“Triple aught buck refers to the size of the shot used,” explained Kyouka. “This is the largest, not counting slugs, so Utagai needs to be careful if he wants to avoid being filled with holes.”

Karuta’s only weapon was the flashlight he could use as a club. ''With some exceptions like Aine or Marika,'' seeing and then blocking a bullet flying at supersonic speeds would require a miracle (in the sense that it would require dumb luck). With a shotgun that sent out a shower of deadly pellets, it was wholly impossible. He could not hope to defend himself.

Plus, that was not just a shotgun.

It was the trigger to activate some more powerful magic, just like a witch’s wand or crystal ball.

The man’s goggles had a feather decoration drawn on the side and his leg powered suit had a distinctive tattoo pattern drawn on it. Those things felt out of place to Karuta, but Athabaskan had managed to perfectly bring together tradition and technology.

Karuta tried his best to keep the tremor out of his voice.

“Well, I can’t exactly complain about this. We protect ourselves with crystal armor and use that to fly. Weapons and enhancements are nothing new.”

“…”

(Are you kidding me? He isn’t just holding his tongue – he isn’t blinking and his breathing is perfectly steady. This is bad. Really bad! This guy’s a ''real pro''. Provoking him isn’t going to get anything out of him!!)

Karuta worked to keep his panic from showing.

The president spoke from the commentator’s booth with Delane.

“Anyone who analyzed the first round will know that attacking ahead of the bell isn’t enough to take down Utagai Karuta, so I’m curious to see what Athabaskan Rio Grande has planned. And of course, dealing with that shotgun will be Utagai’s first order of business. But if he focuses too much on that, the magic will do him in.”

“I see. So both contestants have a problem to solve here. And simple problems like this are the best because the audience can follow what’s happening! Now, let’s ring that bell. Oh, and Karuta? No attacking ahead of the bell. This is my time to shine, so I don’t want some filthy guy getting in the way!!”

They stood in the center of the ring.

They were only 5m apart.

That was basically right in front of each other with a pump-action shotgun. A shotgun fired several shots in a trumpet-like spread, so it was much more powerful at close range. This close, he would probably be torn apart even if he had specialized bulletproof gear.

“Now, let’s get Round 2 Match 2 started. All together now!! Three, two, oooone!!”

Unbeknownst to the audience, Karuta’s heart was hammering in his chest.

If he was being honest, ''he had not at all anticipated a shotgun. He had no plan at all!!

“Fight!!”

Did the metal gong sound even reach Karuta’s ears?

His opponent did not immediately fire his shotgun. Instead, he threw a metal can larger than a shotgun shell. More the size of an energy drink can.

(A grenade!?)

Karuta’s throat went dry.

His only chance was to knock the thing outside the ring with his flashlight.

He readied himself, but the grenade bounced off the mat weirdly.

A metal can was not a perfectly round ball.

“Geh!”

White smoke burst from it.

Tobacco played an important role in Native American rituals. They excelled in using all sorts of herbs.

“A smoke grenade!?” protested Delane. “But now we can’t see!! Do you have any idea how valuable these broadcast rights are, Athabaskan!!!???”

There was no way this would end with only a smokescreen.

The Native American warrior worked as a mercenary and he was holding a powerful shotgun. He was bound to aim for Karuta through the smoke. His own smoke kept him from aiming accurately, but if he fired in the general direction of the vague silhouette he could see, he could still fatally wound Karuta.

Karuta felt the terror of being unable to see while a gunshot could come at any moment.

He started to get down on the mat, but then a voice inside him whispered in his mind.

''Can you really risk your own life and the fate of the world you saved on something as unreliable as common sense?

“!?”

He broke free of his instincts and stopped himself from dropping to the mat on reflex.

An explosion immediately followed, but he felt no pain.

He had jumped to the side, but that hadn’t really mattered.

Athabaskan had aimed down at the mat and fired. That had prevented the shot from spreading and gouged a large hole in the soft mat.

If Karuta had followed his common sense – the least trustworthy thing in this garbage world – and gotten down on the mat, that would have blasted his head off or torn through his chest.

Doing things the sensible way would get him killed. The “comment sense” result of this matchup was his death, so he had to try something else if he hoped to survive.

His heart was running wild in his chest.

Athabaskan Rio Grande broke through his own white smokescreen to charge toward his opponent.

Karuta could follow the man’s movements with his eyes, but a high schooler’s reflexes were not enough for his arms and legs to keep up.

He had experienced this same thing while sparring against a professional solider like Letnahe Kurent. The man attempted to press the black glistening pump-action shotgun’s muzzle against the bottom of Karuta’s chin. Smoothly knocking the barrel aside with his flashlight and shining the powerful laser in the man’s eyes was beyond Karuta’s abilities. His body could not keep up with moves straight out of an action movie!!

He was supposed to focus on his opponent’s defenses instead of his own attacks, making sure he always had two options at any one moment. That was how a professional ensured they could hit and silence their opponent. He understood all that intellectually, but there was only so much his body could do while he felt frozen in time like this.

So he only had one option left.

“Ohhh!!”

Without hesitation, he placed his palm over the shotgun’s muzzle and grasped it tight.

An explosion followed.

Athabaskan had pulled the trigger and the shotgun had shattered Karuta’s thin barrier and blasted his left hand into smithereens. Each of his fingers flew through the air, disturbingly intact while they crystallized.

But.

With his hand in the way, the shot had failed to destroy his skull. Tearing through his flesh and bouncing off his bone had shifted the distribution of the shot just enough. He clenched his teeth at the burning pain while his woozy mind confirmed that he had in fact survived.

The crowd screamed at the grotesque scene, but he did not.

His wound was already crystallizing.

(30 seconds!! Then I’ll have my hand back!!)

Shotguns had a lot of recoil. Not even the professional mercenary could suppress the impact sent back into his shoulder, so there was a lag of less than a second before he could slide the forend below the barrel and load the next round.

Karuta did not have time to sit around and think through it all.

He slammed his forehead into his opponent’s nose.

He poured all of his strength into the attack. Or he thought he had. But Athabaskan did not even lose his balance, much less go down.

This man was trained in a way Karuta simply wasn’t.

(He held his ground?)

But that long shotgun was not suited for such close quarters, so the mercenary swept Karuta’s legs out from under him to knock him down. Karuta could not land properly when he was missing one hand and held a flashlight in the other.

Athabaskan pinned Karuta down with a foot on his gut, pulled back the forend to expel the empty cartridge from the side, and aimed the shotgun straight down at the boy’s face. The professional stayed true to his tactics.

“!!”

Karuta shined his blinding laser up along the shotgun’s sight and twisted his body with all his might. When the man shook his head to get the powerful IR beam out of his eyes, his weight shifted enough to release some of the force on Karuta’s stomach.

Karuta rolled to the side at the exact moment the shotgun went off.

The point-blank blast was powerful, but that also meant the shot hit the floor and stopped before it could spread out. Karuta should have escaped outside the deadly blast’s range by then.

But he felt burning pain across his entire right half.

The floor had exploded at the center of the shotgun blast. This was not just a secondary effect like the mat material being sent outwards by the shotgun’s destructive force. The explosion came with bluish-white flames. It was clearly some form of attack.

Karuta kept rolling and protected his left hand. His regeneration could heal any wound, but if the crystal was shattered before then, that part would never heal. He was a step away from disaster here.

“Gahhh!?”

“Oh, was that some kind of magic?” asked Delane. “Or was it a modern weapon?”

“I believe it was magic. Since it is activated by a gunshot, it must be single use. He uses a totem for his curses, which in Japanese terms is something like your clan’s ancestors or your clan’s guardian spirit.”

“Hey, uh, I’m not Japanese, you know? But do you mean totem as in a totem pole?”

“Yes. They tend to depict wild animals like wolves, bears, buffalos, or eagles, but some native groups use totems depicting phenomena or objects, such as a stomachache or flowers. That means a totem that causes explosions is perfectly plausible. Maybe it represents a volcanic eruption?”

His entire right side felt stiff.

Protecting his left hand was the least of his worries now. His body was covered in crystals.

He managed to put some distance between them and stood up on unsteady legs, but then he noticed a flashing light out of the corner of his eye. That was a signal from Aine or Marika in the stands.

He converted the flashing light into Japanese.

(Progress report: Athabaskan uses his shotgun shells as totem poles to construct his magic.)

Unlike a normal handgun or assault rifle, Karuta had heard shotgun ammo was lined up inside a tube below the barrel. And lined up like that, they would indeed create something like a pole.

(He draws on the magical power of the symbols carved into the side of the shells, allowing him to-)

“50m SSW. Floor 3 Zone B3.”

“!?”

Without warning, the Native American mercenary’s lips moved while he slowly readied his pump-action shotgun.

“And 45m NE. Floor 3 Zone C8. I can see your hidden troops. And for a professional warfighter, a handgun has a range of 180m. This qualifies as close range.”

(Aine is pretty obvious, but Marika is the laser sniping specialist who shot Elicia in the head. But I only know that because I’m her childhood friend. How did he see through her at first sight like that!?)

The shotgun barrel rose up a few meters away.

The promised 30 seconds arrived at the same time.

Once his left hand was back to normal, he swung his arm horizontally. The unneeded crystal shards flew out in an expanding cloud to blind Athabaskan.

He still pulled the trigger, but needing to turn his head to protect his eyes threw off his aim. While the storm of hot metal tore through the air, Karuta clenched his teeth, ducked low, and charged toward the man.

Athabaskan pulled the forend back. For some reason, he did it twice, ejecting an unused shotgun shell to the floor.

The mercenary’s solid footwork was exactly what Karuta had hoped for. He spread his left hand and jabbed it against the man’s thigh. Specifically, into the joint of the powered suit that enhanced his leg strength.

With a horrific grinding and cracking sound, Karuta’s fingers were crushed like they were caught in the hinge of a heavy metal door.

He only had to bear with the pain and he could drive a wedge into the machine’s joint.

With the crystallized fingers keeping the one leg from moving, Athabaskan placed his weight on his other leg. That was when Karuta slammed his flashlight against it with his right hand. The horizontal blow to the ankle sent the mercenary’s leg sliding out from under him.

Another shot.

The shotgun went off, but an accidental shot while falling was not going to hit Karuta.

They both collapsed to the mat and began grappling.

Athabaskan’s shotgun was shocking, but since his totem pole was created from the totem shells contained within the gun, he could not freely mix and match the symbols on the fly. If he misread the situation, he had to slide the forend to eject the unneeded shell and move on to the next arrangement.

Karuta’s objective was to remove the shotgun from the battle. Whatever was in the tube, the man couldn’t use his magic if he lost the gun itself.

Karuta’s rational side swiftly reached that conclusion, but the rest of him noticed something else. He saw the glint of something other than a grenade on the equipment belt strapped across Athabaskan’s chest.

It was pink and shaped like a small egg.

(A child’s…emergency buzzer?)

That had no business being on a professional mercenary whose life depended on his camouflage.

A moment later, a totem explosion caught Karuta by surprise.

And this one did not even come from the shotgun.