The Courtyard Duel

When Ryuuhei came to, he found himself standing alongside Yuumi and Ryouko in a vast open area complete with beautiful stone walkways, tall, sightly path lamps, a verdant, emerald lawn, and people. Scads of students overran the premise, filling the air with rambunctious cheers and shouts.

Indeed—he had arrived at what appeared to be the courtyard behind Irrealis Love, the student residence hall of Lingua Magi.

“C’mon, let’s go already,” said Yuumi impatiently from beside him. He nodded and made his way toward the crowd together with her and Ryouko.

The three of them pushed their way through the mob of people standing in a circle. Upon doing so, they were met with the sight of two male students swiftly exchanging blows with magic. Both of their bodies were surrounded by dancing auras of light, and in their hands rested identical scepters.

The scepters’ shafts were crafted with a reddish-brown wood; atop each of the shafts sat a single large, blood-red ruby. As he narrowed his eyes, Ryuuhei could vaguely see that the students’ scepters were also embellished with snake ornaments that coiled neatly around them.

“Take this! Thorough Binding!,” one of the students shouted loudly. A thick bundle of luminescent rope manifested itself out of thin air and ensnared the other student from head to toe.

“—Oh? ‘Ganjigarame’, huh? Nice word you’re using there as a spell,” Ryuuhei thought, visibly intrigued. “Impressive that you knew how to write it in kanji, too.”

“Nexus Magic: Transform and Homing,” the student bound by the spell said in response. His voice was unnervingly calm.

The rope around him slackened before bursting apart into a gale of wind so strong that it caused the spectators in the audience to shield themselves instinctually. The gale spun itself into a miniature cyclone and proceeded to trail its target. The student being chased by the cyclone pranced around the courtyard screaming as onlookers laughed and cheered.

Eventually, he was caught by the spell and carried high off the ground in a spiraling motion.

“......Inversion Magic: Reversal......!,” the student choked out, still being tossed around violently.

Without warning, the howling gyre of wind promptly changed directions and headed straight back toward its summoner.

“......What was that spell just now?,” Ryuuhei asked.

“Inversion Magic: Reversal,” said Ryouko in response. “It uses the Japanese word ‘uragaeshi’ to reflect a spell back to its caster.”

The student who reversed the spell fell onto the courtyard lawn with a loud ‘thud,’ his back slamming into the ground. He sat up, watching proudly as the cyclone quickly approached his opponent.

“How’s that, tough guy? Now, you’ve got nowhere to run!,” he said with a smirk. “......Huh?”

Moments before the other student was about to be struck by his own spell, he sniggered smugly as three kanji characters appeared before his scepter. Together, they formed the word ‘toumeika’, the Japanese word for—.

“—Invisibility.”

“No way!,” shouted Ryuuhei, watching from within the crowd. He could hardly believe his eyes. The man had vanished into thin air, causing the cyclone targeting him to unravel and dissipate into nothing.

“......Summoning......! Snow Blanket.”

The audience went wild with excitement and awe as a thick layer of snow materialized beneath their feet, gradually covering the entire lawn of the courtyard.

“Wow......!,” exclaimed Yuumi. “Using the poetic term ‘yukigeshou’ to expose his opponent’s location like that......that guy’s pretty good at thinking on his feet.”

The student who had brought winter early to Lingua Magi sighed in relief—he could hear the light pitter patter of his opponent’s feet against the snow.

“Alright, now I’ll be able to find him,” he said, eyes darting around the premise for the sight of footsteps. He froze when the snow directly in front him started to cave in with a series of crunches—the other student had managed to close the distance between them in the time it took him to cast his last spell!

“......Oh, no! He’s right on top of me!,” he shouted as he desperately attempted to cast a defensive barrier around his body. “Summoning......! Spherical Force Fie—”

Before he had a chance to finish the incantation, he felt a hand tap his shoulder lightly—signifying his official loss of the duel. He sighed in disappointment.

“Your casting time and Japanese lexicon are both superior to mine,” said his opponent, reappearing before him in a glisten of reflective, rectangular-shaped glitches. “You only lost because you failed to predict what I’d do in advance.”

“......I see. So a duel here isn’t just about acting quickly, but also about staying a few steps ahead mentally,” thought Ryuuhei, taking note of what he had just witnessed.

The winner of the duel stood up from his crouching position and extended a helping hand toward the loser. The latter smiled as he took it with a satisfying clap, pulling himself back onto his feet.

“......You really got me good there. I admit defeat,” he said, his voice carrying in it not a sliver of malice.

Right away, cheers and shouts began to echo throughout the still-snow-covered courtyard as the crowd of students surrounding the two men exploded with a thundering ovation.

“......Incredible,” Yuumi said, amazement still lingering in her eyes. “So that’s what a duel at this academy looks like in practice, huh?”

“And to think we all have to participate in one of those ourselves tomorrow,” replied Ryouko. There was a sense of timidness amidst her voice. “......To be honest, I’m a little nervous.”

Yuumi threw an arm around her shoulder endearingly, flashing a toothy grin as she did so.

“Oh, quit worrying already! You’ll be aight!,” she said, reassuring the doubtful Ryouko. “I mean, you’re the Raimu Kagura, acclaimed author of Ghost of Reiwa. I seriously doubt anyone here has a bigger Japanese vocabulary than you do. Now, now, have some confidence, Raimu-chan~.”

“—Hey, who said you could call me by my pseudonym!?,” Ryouko barked. “......Also, did you not just watch the duel in front of you? Strategy matters just as much as how many words you know.”

Yuumi paused for a moment before suddenly nodding in agreement.

“Well, you’ve got a point there,” she said. “......But the options for castings seem limitless, given how many words exist in Japanese. How is it even possible to predict what your opponent will do?”

“I think the key lies in the win condition of a duel, as per academy rules,” replied Ryouko. “According to the manual that was handed out after the convocation, a duel ends the instant a participant touches their opponent. Which means—.”

“—I see! You can expect that your opponent will act with that goal in mind, narrowing possibilities, right?,” Yuumi said, having a sudden epiphany.

Ryouko nodded.

“Exactly,” she said. “All it comes down to then is prediction, lexicon size, and—.”

She materialized her kotoki, folded it with a clench, and thrust it in front of her in a dramatic motion.

“—Creativity!”

“Haha, well-said, well-said!,” laughed Yuumi before something caught her eye. —It was Ryuuhei; he was busy staring off into the distance with a loose gaze.

“......Hey, Ryuuhei, what’cha staring at, my man?,” she called to him, shouting over the still-boisterous chatter of the students in the area.

“—I said, hey!,” she said again, this time a bit louder.

But Ryuuhei did not respond. He remained silent as he stood motionless atop the crisp, fresh snow beneath his feet. A cool, pleasant breeze blew through the courtyard, causing his hair to sway gently about.

Upon tracing his line of sight, Yuumi was met with an astounding view of the evening sunset washing over campus; a vibrant gradient blend of salmon pink, rosy lavender, and blue iris colors painted the sky with much beauty. Not a single cloud was present to defile the scene’s dreamlike grandeur.

Far, far up above, a lone creature with scales the color of an everlasting darkness roamed the heavens, streams of blazing inferno sporadically leaking from its mouth. —It was Tomoki Shinonome, Lingua Magi’s ferryman.

“......Say, Yuumi-san, Ryouko-san,” said Ryuuhei abruptly, eyes still glued to the scenery before him. His lips formed a faint smile containing a whisper of sadness.

“The world we left behind—I wonder, was it capable of something so beautiful?”