Hop on!!

THE PATH LEADING DOWN the alleyway was a straight shot from the narrow street, but it was still quite long, nearly the length of a football pitch if one had to guess. It ran parallel to another path that intersected with oncoming traffic. Due to the constant urban noise, this location was ideal for muggings as very few would be able to heed what transpired in this brick and cement-layered labyrinth.

There she stood, surrounded by six men dressed in oddly color-coordinated outfits, blocking the long trail leading out onto the main road. The troublesome bunch had managed to chase her around the city and into a dead end. It was bound to happen since she didn't exactly know her way around the place. But the timing of it all couldn’t be any more inconvenient.

With no hope for escape in sight, she could only stand there with her back to the wall. She internally fumed at her incompetence.

Brilliant! First, you burn your only uniform blouse on the iron board the day before school starts, and then ya go and get yourself lost the day of?! Brilliant. Just brilliant!

The girl then surveyed her surroundings. The alley's end was old, dark, and dusty, but it was also quite broad and spacious. However, based on the boarded-up windows and soot-covered brick walls that permeated her hands, it was clear that the area had not been cared for in quite some time. She was surprised to learn that even a city as large as this one can be slow to maintain its infrastructure.

When her father raised the idea of studying in this city—Marlia City, the renowned Academia Capital of the World—this had to be the furthest thing from what she was expecting. Daytona Fields had only recently arrived here and yet her preconceived notions of the place were beginning to fade quickly. It’d been only two weeks since the move and by now she was already thinking of just packing all her shit up and flying back home.

“Well, well. It looks like someone’s a bit lost.”

“She can’t be from around here, mate. Half of these alleys lead to dead-ends. Every local knows that...”

“I bet she’s probably the rebellious daughter of some business tycoon. Her type is always bound to be loaded.”

Grinning sheepishly, Daytona looked away and thought, Actually, most of Da’s funds were blown on my school tuition, so…

Her eyes then studied her pursuers. Some grinned mischievously at her, while others were sweating profusely and struggling to catch their breath. She'd be in the same boat if she chose to wear a leather jacket in this weather. This was precisely why keeping up with local forecasts was always beneficial.

Daytona examined them more closely and noticed that each of their jackets had unique emblems embroidered on the right side collars. Three of them bore the shape of lime, black, and white-colored caterpillars. Two of them resembled light green chrysalises. And the last one was shaped like a butterfly with black, orange, and white wings.

A monarch…? Her throat tightened as she realized who these thugs were. No way… She had heard that the riffraff was run out ages ago by factions belonging to Requiem and Phoenix respectively. Both schools and their foreign relations committee had assured worried parents that gang activity would be “the least of their worries” and that their children would be “safe and sound”.

Which begged the question—what the hell are they doing back here?! It was here that she discovered that schools will say almost anything to increase their enrollment. Even if it means lying through their teeth.

“Now, now, fellas, no need to frighten the poor girl.” Her eyes landed on the shortest bloke in the bunch. He was human, Caucuskan, looked to be somewhere in his early to mid-twenties with black hair styled into an inhumanly large pompadour that bobbed up and down as he spoke. The swirl at the top reminded Daytona of a jelly roll. He wore black sunglasses and a toothpick stuck out lazily from the right corner of his mouth.

“Alls we’re lookin’ for is a bit of your time, young lady.”

Daytona needed to get the hell out of there as soon as she possibly could. Someone like her, with a massive mana pool, should have been able to put away six thugs with relative ease, but she still wasn't skilled enough to do so on her own. Daytona also didn’t want to give these thugs the satisfaction that they’d rattled her. So she decided to play it cool and bide her time until an opportunity to escape presented itself.

“And what exactly can I do for you fellas on this fine mornin’?” she asked as cooly and calmly as humanly possible.

The Jellyroll Man stepped forward with his hands in his jacket pockets. “Hm, well, ya see, we’re a bit strapped for cash at the moment. And we wanted to know if you could spare a little change.” He rubbed the back of his head apologetically. “Think that request is something you can honor?”

He spoke in what was probably the thickest Brookville accent she had ever heard. Though, she figured she was one to talk about unique accents, being from across the gulf and all. Given the butterfly emblem on the short man’s jacket, she surmised that he must be the leader of this merry band.

Still, there was a glaring issue here that she simply couldn't ignore.

“Wait… Is that why you lot chased me all over the city block? For money?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Really? So out of the thousands of people walking around us, youse settled on me?”

“Yep. Honest to Mother.”

“Yeah, invoking the name of our Goddess doesn’t make what you’re doing any less of a crime,” the girl pointed out.

“Now, hold on there, sweetheart.” The Jellyroll Man raised his hands in protest. “Who said anything about a crime?” He glanced over at his mates. “We doing a crime, fellas?”

““Uh-uh!”” They all shook their heads in unison. Daytona rolled her eyes. Anyone could tell they had this routine rehearsed for their potential victims.

“All we’re askin’ for is a bit of change to help us get by for a bit,” explained The Jellyroll Man. “Our buddy, Craig here recently hurt his hand trying to bust through a wind—knitting a sweater for his moms…”

He totally just retconned his story on the fly…

“...so we need to get him some gauze or somethin’ till we get him some proper care.”

As the Jellyroll Man finished speaking, Daytona’s eyes flicked over to the taller lad who couldn’t have been much older than her. He had messy green hair and weasel-like eyes. A diamond-studded earring adorned his left ear. His jacket bore the design of a monarch caterpillar, and it appeared to be made of organza fabric that reflected the little sunlight that shone into the back alley.

Sure enough, the guy was favoring his right hand. She could make out a few cuts and bruises on his knuckles and swelling near his pinky.

“He has minor cuts, but they aren't deep enough to necessitate the use of gauze,” Daytona concluded. “What your lad needs, is a healing spell.”

“What, you some kind of healing expert, girlie?” Craig, the green-haired lad scoffed. He was starting to look annoyed. “Don’t look like one to me.”

“Nah. They’ve been teaching this stuff in primary, mate. Where’ve you been? Lemme guess: you'd already dropped out and were too busy pissin' about with your fellow wannabe hoodlums?” 

“What’d you say?!” The weasel snarled. Daytona’s comment seemed to have touched a nerve. He clenched his right hand into a fist, something he wouldn’t be doing if it truly hurt. She then examined his hand more closely and noticed that the “swelling” near his pinky had started to peel.

Well, well, what do we have here? That makeup job nearly had me going for a sec.

“Perhaps you should've had your lad watch some pro-wrestling or dramatic theater," Daytona suggested, returning her gaze to The Jellyroll Man. “He could have benefited greatly from a few pointers.”

Craig glared at her. “What the hell are you trying to say?”

“Gods, are you daft? I’m saying, your sell job is complete and utter shite, mate. I’ve seen golems give a more believable performance!”

“Why, you little…” The weasel’s eye twitched as he trudged forward. His body tensed, and a rippling red aura began to course through him. He then stomped the ground and assumed a fighting stance, causing Daytona to tense up as she felt an impact from beneath her soles.

Whoa! That spike in magical energy… Is that all coming from him?

The red-oni rolled his eyes. “Oh, boy, here he goes…”

“H-Hey Craig, tone it down a bit buddy, we’re not tryin’ to hurt ‘er.” The Jellyroll raised a hand to try and calm his junior, but the large musclehead of a man standing behind him placed a massive hand on his shoulder.

“Nah, let him have at it, Xilla,” he said. “We haven’t seen any action all day. I wanna see where this goes.”

“B-But…”

“This is his first time in the streets, mate,” the feline beastkin chimed in. “He needs the experience.”

The red-oni folded his arms and nodded. “Besides, it’s just one girl, surely he can handle her.”

“Even if he fails, she would still have us to d-d-d-d-d…” The automaton standing among the gangsters emitted a monotonous droning designed to mimic human speech.

Daytona used to read a lot about automatons as a child. They were advanced golems made to look more humanoid in appearance and their cores ran solely on manatite, a magical mineral that grants them sentience, allowing them to roam the planet alongside humans, elves, beastkin, orcs, and other races. However, this was her first encounter with one in person.

“...deal with,” the automaton finally concluded.

Daytona sulked. Looks like his voice box is jammed, too. Poor guy. When compared to anything created in the Contemporary Age, this automaton was clearly a much older model.

“Oi! Eyes over here, sunshine! I ain’t finished wi’ you!” The weasel’s shrill voice was grating on Daytona’s ears. “Pff! Hoodlums.” Upon repeating the word, his face scrunched up as if he’d just tasted dirt. “You dare to insult us with such a paltry label?! I’ll have you know that we, Monarchs are a pretty big deal ‘round these parts!”

“Were,” the feline beastkin stated dryly.

“Shh!! She don’t need to know that!”

The girl sneered at this boastful remark. “Heh. Really, now? So big that youse have to chase down a secondary school girl for pocket money? Yeah, color me impressed.”

She could almost hear the weasel's teeth grinding against each other as she said this.

“That’s enough out of you, brat!” he spat. “Run those li’l pockets o’ yours, or else!”

“Or else what, pretty boy? You’ll mean mug me to death?” sassed the blue-haired girl, wiggling her fingers at him derisively. “Ooooh, I’m shaking in my boots!”

“Raaaargh!!” The weasel rushed forward, his entire body still seething with a red aura, and threw his fist toward her.

Wuh-oh!

Daytona ducked, pressing her hands firmly on the soot-covered wall to keep balance. The weasel’s fist smashed into the wall with great force.

KRA-KOON!

And then, it happened. While the weasel's hand was pushed through the now heavily damaged brick wall, an electrical current began to course through Daytona’s body. And then, without warning, a volt of electricity emitted from her hands. She watched as it traveled through the currents conducted by the soot, and spread through the weasel's slim frame, causing rippling shockwaves to dance violently throughout his entire body.

ZZZZZRRRRRRRRRT!

“KYAAAAAAAH!!!” The weasel screamed in such a high octave that one could wonder if he may have been a soprano in his primary school choir.

After a few moments of hooting and hollering, Daytona removed her hands from the wall, allowing the lad's body to fall to the ground with a hard thud. His comrades were in complete disbelief. It had all happened so quickly that it took them a few seconds to process what they'd just seen.

“Cr-Craig!” The Jellyroll Man was the first to break from his stupor. He dashed over to the younger lad, dropping to one knee and looking him over.

“Whoa…” The musclehead couldn't believe his eyes. “Wh… What just happened…?”

“The wall appears to be covered in soot,” surmised the automaton. “Soot conducts electricity and when Craig punched through the wall, that is where the girl m-m-m-m-m-m…”

“......”

“......”

“......”

“......”

“......”

“......”

The other Monarchs waited in anticipation for the automaton to finish his point. A few static and stutters later…

“...made her move.”

The Monarchs let out a collective gasp.

“Huh?” Daytona waved her hands in protest, Her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. “H-Hold on, that was an accident! I just moved out of the way and used the wall to support myself. I-I never meant to zap the lad!”

“Hang in there, Craig!” The Jellyroll Man held Craig in his arms. His lips were tightened as if he were crying not to cry. Then Craig, the weaselly lad whose body was now covered in dark burn marks and his messy green hair had taken on more of a permed texture, spoke.

“B-Boss? Did we… Did we get ‘er?”

The Jellyroll Man sucked air through his teeth. “Nah, kid. Not even close. But you’re gonna be okay, understand? Where does it hurt?”

“I… Mostly feel tingly all over…but…my mitts, I…I can’t feel ‘em…”

“Whoa…”

“How barbaric!”

Daytona rolled her eyes at their comments. “Y’know, that mossed-haired pillock o’ yours would still be feeling his mitts if youse had just buggered off and bothered someone else.”

The Monarchs turned to glare at the blue-haired girl.

“You’ve got some nerve!”

“He’s only a boy! A good boy!”

“Now who will conduct my weekly m-m-m-maintenance?”

“How’re you gonna take responsibility for this, huh?” The Jellyroll Man, who had been the most polite of the bunch, now fixed Daytona with a stony glare. “Ya just shocked a guy here. These burns could be serious!”

Daytona's nostrils flared. She'd had enough. “Oh, no, no, no. You blokes aren't gonna guilt trip me over this! I’ll admit that I lost control the first time. And for that, I apologize—”

She paused, raising her arms slightly, her right elbow and forearm close to her ribs. As her first line of defense, her left arm was positioned in front of her. Finally, she stepped forward with her left foot, heel raised from the ground, while her right foot remained flat to maintain her balance. A current of electricity flickered around her body as the Monarchs looked on in disbelief.

“—But make no mistake—I was trained by the greatest electro mage in the world… and he taught me well. I can assure you that the next time will not be an accident. And, based on your reactions, youse don't appear to be overly confident in your magical abilities, so what's to stop me from doing in the rest of you bozos?”

“Ah, to hell wit’ dis…!” The half-oni suddenly stepped past the Jellyroll Man, reaching back and drawing a silver revolver. On closer inspection, it was engraved with the symbol of a salamander, the guardian spirit of Vulcan, Lord of the Inferno. The mark emitted the same glowing red aura that emitted from beneath his visor. He immediately pointed the gun at Daytona's head.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” she yelled, holding her hands in the air. All the gusto she’d displayed earlier dissolved in the blink of an eye. The sight of the barrel sent Daytona's heart racing. Sure, she was fast, but not fast enough to stop a mana bullet from point-blank range.

“Okay, okay, that's a convincing argument!"

Damn! An Oni mystic gunslinger? And his mana is much stronger than the weasel! Questions began to flood her mind. Just who the hell were these blokes? And were the others hiding their true power as well?

If so, then I’m totally screwed!

"Yo, Renfrew, stop!” The Jellyroll Man protested. “Yeah, what she did was uncalled for, but is this really necessary?!”

The red-oni spun around and pointed the gun at his leader. “Shut it, Xilla!” he fumed, making his act of defiance clear. “It’s ‘cuz o’ you why she thinks we’re a bunch of pushovers!”

Mm. Not quite, Daytona thought. To be honest, if anyone were to be at fault here, it’d be the weasel, not him.

“Ay, t-take it easy, man!!” Xilla exclaimed as his hands shot in the air also. The others were yelling at Renfrew to stop, but he ignored them and redirected his weapon's barrel back to his original target.

"And you!"

"Eeep!” Daytona yelped. “Y-Yes?”

“Enough with the games!” Renfrew demanded, “Don’t get cocky ‘cuz you caught one of our rookies off guard! You don’t wanna mess with a seasoned Monarch, kid! Now empty that li’l bag ‘o yours and no one has to be burned to a crisp!"

“Aside from Craig’s hands, you mean,” the automaton chimed in.

Renfrew sighed. “Yes, Phil. Aside from Craig’s hands. He really took one for the team.”

“Awww… you guys…” Craig—’the weasel’, as Daytona preferred—still in the Jellyroll Man’s arms, gazed up at his comrade. His eyes were twinkling, and his cheeks had a slight tinge beneath the burns.

“Shut up, Craig,” Renfrew hissed.

“Okay…” He sighed, as if this was a routine response from his senior thug, before averting his gaze once more.

Renfrew returned his attention to his target. A malicious grin spread across the red man's face as he saw the genuine fear in the girl's eyes. “Last chance to drop your shit, and bounce, short stuff,” the half-oni warned. “Well? What do you say?”

Dammit… What do I do now?

“Leave her alone!” A deep yet youthful voice called out from behind them.

“““Huh?”””

The gangsters whirled around to find a tall teenage boy glaring back at them. He had a long face, dark bronze skin, slanted brown eyes, a strong jaw, and long black hair braided into cornrows. The boy was dressed in the uniform of Phoenix Military Academy, which Daytona recognized as the school just west of hers.

The boy proceeded toward them, flanked by two other girls who both appeared to be of Hōjinese descent. Daytona’s eyes lit up as she noticed their familiar purple, black, and grey uniforms.

Wait, those two are…

Sure enough, the symbol of Requiem was embellished on the right side of their breast pockets, just like Daytona's own blouse. That was before it turned into a charred scrap of fabric, though.

Daytona's gaze flicked to the Requiem student to her left. To describe this girl as "short" would have been an understatement of the century. She could have easily passed for a primary school student if it hadn't been for her uniform. Her long neon pink hair was tied in a single braid, her eyes were as blue as the ocean, and her cheeks were so rosy, that they almost looked like those blush stickers manga artists usually put on their moé characters.

Simply put, the girl was adorable as all get out.

The Requiem student to the right was quite tall, unlike her bubblegum-haired friend, but not much taller than Daytona. Her long, ashen hair cascaded past her shoulders and down her back. Her skin was fair, almost porcelain-like, and her large hazel-colored eyes shone in the shade cast by the brim of her large witch's hat.

Daytona's heart skipped a beat as she was taken aback by the beauty of the young witch. In her mind, a girl of her caliber could easily find work as a model for Magia Fashion Weekly or something. Furthermore, this was Daytona's first encounter with a witch in the flesh. Although her home country, New Dragonia, was well-known for being one of the continent's more culturally diverse nations, witches still made up only about 0.5 percent of the population.

As she continued her examination, Daytona's gaze traveled just below the subject’s collarbone and settled on her chest. There she noticed…two ways that the young witch dwarfed both Daytona and the bubblegum-haired girl combined.

What the…?

Daytona peered down at her own chest... and sighed deeply.

Guess that makes me and pinkie over there kindred spirits…

The students then came to a halt just a few feet away from the thugs. While this trio was dissimilar in many ways, Daytona recognized one thing they all had in common: the intense glare that burned across each of their faces. They had no fear in their eyes as they stared daggers at the thugs in front of them. Daytona wondered what kind of mages these three had to be if standing toe-to-toe with five men didn't bother them in the least.

The bubblegum-haired girl glanced over to Daytona. She smiled and gave her a thumbs up, and an unfamiliar wellspring of heat began to wash over her. Something about these three made her feel hopeful.

Well, they certainly seem confident, but are young mages in the West really that strong? From the looks of things, she wouldn’t have to wait long for an answer.

“Hoo boy,” the Jellyroll Man sighed, scratching his head. “This may be a problem, fellas.”

“Tch, you can't be serious, Xill. It's just a few more kids.” The musclehead scoffed and folded his arms, clearly unimpressed. “Big whoop!”

The feline beastkin tugged at his sleeve. “Check out their uniforms, mate!” he muttered, pointing to them. “Clearly they're students from those nearby academies! Oh, and in case you haven’t noticed…one of ‘em’s a bloody witch!!”

“So?”

“So, that means, if they got accepted into said academies, they've all gotta be packing some serious heat, don’tcha think?”

The big lad chuckled, cracking his knuckles. "Heh, don't mean a damn thing to me, Collin. Their magic won’t protect them from these hands!"

“Tch, your funeral, dumbass,” Collin heaved a sigh as he buried his face in his open palm. He was completely beside himself at this point.

Renfrew turned to face the trio, aimed his gun at the boy in the middle, and then paused.

“No friggin’ way…” He muttered as he lowered his gun.

The boy, however, returned his stare with a puzzled expression.

“You're Rush's boy, aren’t you?”

“......”

“......”

“......”

“......”

A hush fell over the back alley. Not one soul stirred as if time itself was at a standstill.

“““HUH?!”””

A few moments later, some of the Monarchs gasped, the weight of Renfrew's words finally sinking in.

Rush? Daytona was confused. She didn’t quite get the importance of the red-oni’s question, but based on the Monarch's reaction, it didn’t bode well. That name… She’d heard it somewhere before, but where?

Her gaze flicked over to the boy, however, these words didn’t seem to incite a reaction from him. He simply stood there, unmoving.

The two girls beside him, on the other hand, were the polar opposite. Their eyes widened in surprise, but only for a brief moment. They exchanged glances, engaging in a silent conversation of sorts before finally hardening their expressions and returning their attention to the Monarchs.

“You are, aren't you?” Renfrew pressed, pointing at him vigorously with his free hand.

The Jellyroll Man peeked over his lowered shades. “Renfrew, are you serious?”

“Wait, Rush? You mean the boss?” the musclehead asked.

“You know any other Rushes, mate?” Collin seethed, baring his fangs. He then locked eyes with the boy. “Yeah, it’s gotta be, Ren. Kid's a spitting image o’ him!”

What?! Daytona’s mouth gaped. Her morning had been crazy enough, and it was showing no signs of slowing down.

“Really?” The musclehead sounded doubtful. “Then why the hell is he going to school with the preppies? Shouldn’t he be one of us?”

There was a sudden shift in the atmosphere as those words left the big man’s mouth. Daytona was the first to notice the dark expression that formed on the boy’s face. His jaw tightened, fists clenched. His irises turned dull. That stoic demeanor from just mere seconds ago was nowhere to be found. In its place, an expression akin to that of a cold-blooded killer. A look Daytona has only ever seen from two people in her entire life. As a massive accumulation of purple aura coursed through his body, she felt a chill run down her spine

“I will only say this once,” The boy spoke slowly but clearly enough for everyone to hear as if his voice were being broadcast over a loudspeaker. “Put away your weapon and leave,” he continued, gradually raising his arms and striking his fighting stance. “Otherwise, I will be forced to take action.”

“That aura…” Renfrew grinned. “Yep. No doubt about it. You’re a gyro mage, just like your pops!”

“......”

“Say… We’d heard about your little…incident a few years, back,” the red-oni went on, clearly enjoying this. “Lost control. Damn near leveled a whole city block. It was all over the news. Your pops hadn’t a clue where your mom was hidin’ you, but when that happened, you can bet he—”

The boy gritted his teeth and his right hand clenched into a fist.

“Whuhaaaaaaaaaa!!!”

The red-oni screamed in terror as his body was propelled forward into the air in less than a split second.

“““Renfrew!!!””” The Monarchs shouted as they stared up at their comrade as his body continued to levitate over a hundred feet in the air.

The boy held a fixed gaze on his target. And once the half-oni was close enough, the boy reached upward, palmed the target’s face…

KRAKOOOOON!

…and with a loud slam, the red-oni was pinned face-first into the ground.

“Aaaaagh!!”

The red-oni cried out, blood erupting from his mouth, but the boy didn’t stop there. The purple aura surrounding him intensified. He squatted to the ground, his hand still gripped over the oni's face. He inhaled deeply, his left hand gripping his right shoulder.

“Mmmph! W-Wait, stop! Please, have…” The half-oni then noticed his gun laying just a few inches away. A sly grin formed on his face. “Damned brat! I’ll…I’ll show you…” He reached out for it, his index finger nearly touching the revolver grip until—

FWOOOM!!

A shock wave came crashing down from above. Renfrew’s body was pressed into the ground, creating a man-sized crater.

“Gah—!”

The impact caused the red-oni to jerk violently. Seconds later, the gangster was out like a light.

“......”

“““......”””

Daytona's mouth gaped. She couldn't believe her eyes. Wait, was that...gyro magic…?! She'd never come across a gyromancer before. Among the four Celestial Arts, gyro magic was thought to be extremely rare. Besides cosmo and gyro, a mage was more likely to learn healing or summoning. If one knew either of the former, they were considered an enigma. It then occurred to Daytona that she was experiencing a lot of firsts this morning.

“You’re in for it, now!!” The beastkin lunged at the boy with claws drawn and fangs bared. The boy didn’t seem to notice, eyes still fixed on the half-oni’s motionless body.

“Hey, look out!” Daytona yelled to warn the boy, but just as the beastkin reached him, he was quickly intercepted by the bubblegum-haired girl, her arms outstretched.

“Don’t you dare touch my friend!!” She glared up at him, her blue eyes were like daggers. Despite her small stature, the girl’s words came out like the ferocious bellow of a mother tiger protecting her cub.

“Tch, outta the way, brat!” The beastkin swung, his claws aimed at her face. With a backward roll, she easily avoided his furious swipes. She lunged forward with a punch, but the beastkin ducked her right hook and swayed backward to avoid her left haymaker.

“A swing and a miss!” As he taunted her, Collin reared his head back and laughed. “Ya gotta be quicker than that, short stuff!”

As he stopped to gloat, the girl rushed him. Before he even knew it, she was upon him with near-blinding suddenness.

“What the—”

BOFF!!

As the girl's punch made full contact with the beastkin's right cheekbone, it reverberated throughout the alley. The impact caused a faint crunch, which made Daytona wince.

“Aggh!! Why you…!” The beastkin retaliated with another swipe from his claws. The girl jerked back, narrowly avoiding the attack, a strand of her hair floating to the ground between them.

“...!”

She gasped, reaching up to feel the now uneven portion of her bang. Her eyes then bore into the beastkin with ferocity.

“Uhhh…”

“You, son of a...!” She then bent her knees and quickly performed a regular somersault before launching herself forward like a dart, striking the beastkin with a nose-shattering headbutt.

“Aaauugh!!”

He doubled back. The bubblegum-haired girl spun around and grabbed the beastkin from behind, her arms wrapped around his waist.

“Wha…?!” Having been caught completely unawares, Collin cried out in frustration as he tried to pull forward, but the little girl wouldn’t budge. He reached back and swiped at her face, she threw her head back as his claws missed her by a hairbreadth.

“HAAAAAH!!”

Then, in one swift motion, she lifted the beastkin and fell backward while bridging her back and legs, slamming the enemy down to the ground shoulder and upper back first.

“Ack!!”

A Bridging Gläcian Suplex?! This girl was impressing Daytona more and more by the second. Superhuman strength coupled with two of the most lethal techniques in martial arts? She hardly knew any human mages their age on the entire continent who could stack up.

Daytona eyed the beastkin she had just taken down. Sure enough, he was out cold.

“Ow! Yeesh, that smarts!” The bubblegum-haired girl stood up, holding her head.

“Hotaru! Are you okay?” The witch girl looked her friend over like a doting parent would a child.

“Mm, I'm fine, Chi-Chi. I just hit my head a little as I went down. No biggie.”

“You brats are gonna pay!!” The musclehead growled ferociously as he bounded for the boy, clenching his large hand into a fist and drawing his arm back.

“Nighty, night!!” The musclehead lunged his left arm forward, throwing his gigantic fist at the defenseless boy. Just then, as his fist was about to connect with his target’s face, he suddenly stopped.

“Huh?” Daytona initially thought the boy had used his gravity to deflect the attack, but it only took her an extra second to realize that the little bubblegum-haired girl was standing between the two.

What the…?

She had one arm outstretched. Her tiny right hand gripped the big lad's massive fist as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The girl had confidently blocked the musclehead's punch like a boxing trainer working out a newcomer.

No way! I didn’t even see her move. And her aura… It just shot up like crazy!

“Psssh. What a bummer…” The girl pouted. She didn’t appear to be breaking a sweat. “I thought you’d be stronger. So much for getting my hopes up.” She sighed before tightening her grip. “Oh, well…”

“I-Impossible!! This little munchkin...?!” was all the musclehead could say before the girl spun on her heel, this time with both hands wrapped around his forearm.

“HAAAAAAAAH!!!” Letting out a loud grunt of effort, the girl heaved the musclehead over her shoulder, sending him flying back through the alleyway.

“What the—WAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!”

The big lad's screams echoed throughout the alley and grew increasingly distant as sixteen pairs of eyes watched his massive frame soar further away, crashing through fences, discarded boxes, and dumpsters before tumbling into the busy streets ahead.

CRASH!!

Throughout the city block, shattering glass and the blaring of vehicle alarms and horns could be heard. While it was too far away to tell, Daytona deduced that the musclehead may have collided with one or two cars.

““......””

Following what they had just witnessed, Daytona’s eyes flicked upon the remaining Monarchs. To no one's surprise, they all had the same expression of disbelief.

Her focus returned to the short young girl. If she could even call her that anymore. Did she really just…? As big as he is? A human with superhuman strength was as uncommon as a gyromancer. Daytona expected to see students from all walks of life when she arrived, but the possibility of meeting these rarities felt too surreal to be a coincidence.

Just… Who the hell are these guys?

“Heh, who’s the munchkin now?” The bubblegum-haired girl sneered as she arrogantly dusted her hands.

“Still you,” the tall boy quipped.

“Gah!” The girl clutched her chest as if the boy's remark caused her physical pain. She then turned to him with the look of someone who’d just been betrayed. “Hey! Is that how you repay the gal who just saved your ass? Twice?”

“Oh, no, I appreciate that. Doesn’t make you being a munchkin any less true, though.”

“When did you get so mean?”

“This coming from the person who teases me on a daily basis?”

“Mmm…”

At a loss for words, the bubblegum-haired girl puffed her cheeks. The matter-of-factness in the boy’s sharp response clearly annoyed her. After mulling it over, she took her next course of action:

“Pbbbt!!” The girl playfully blew a raspberry at him in response. Daytona couldn’t help but chuckle at the randomness of this gesture.

“Ho-ta-ruuuu…” The witch girl scowled as she walked over to her much shorter friend and popped her in the forehead with a flick of her finger.

“Ow! W-What was that for?!”

“That was incredibly reckless!”

“What do you mean? He just landed on some parked cars, Chi-Chi,” the shorter girl protested. “Doesn’t look like any bystanders were hurt, either, so we’re good.”

The young witch shook her head. “No. We’re not. Those parked cars were somebody’s property!”

“Well, can’t you just use a chrono-spell to revert them back to their original state?”

The young witch sighed. “No. Not on something as massive as an automobile. Let alone two of them! At my current level, that would take days!”

“Mm…”

The bubblegum-haired girl blinked for a few seconds as if processing her friend’s words. After what seemed to be a moment’s thought, she met the witch girl’s gaze once again.

“Oops?” she finally said with a shrug.

“Ugh...” The witch girl groaned, her face resting in her palm.“We’re so busted!”

The Jellyroll Man removed his sunglasses, a look of both terror and awe on his face. “Mother of Terra…Jarrod’s our strongest guy… and she just threw him like it was nothing...?”

“H-Hey, Phil,” The weasel, who was still in the arms of the Jellyroll Man, weakly beckoned to the automaton standing beside them. “Do something. Shoot ‘em with your m-mana beam or something!”

“Mana…beam?” Confused, the automaton tilted his head to the side.

“Y-Yeah, you know, transform your arm into a cannon and just go friggin’ mental!”

“Unfortunately, I was not built to do such things,” Phil stated. “I can, however, subdue the children with my m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-mmmmmmmm…”

“......”

“......”

“...martial art skills.”

Daytona frowned. Aw, man… Her life being in danger these past few minutes aside, she was kind of looking forward to seeing the automaton do something cool.

The Jellyroll Man sighed. He then set the weasel down on the ground and scooted over the trio, hanging his head low. “L-Look…” He was nearly hyperventilating. “W-We clearly did not think this through. My guys and I were short on funds and we were surrounded by all of these powerful mages, y’know? So we picked out who we thought was the weakest lookin’ one and decided to work from there…”

“Oi, standin’ right here!” Daytona scowled. That last statement cut deep, serving as an incredible blow to her self-esteem.

“We thought it’d be a quick and simple process,” he continued, ignoring her. “Thought no one would’ve even noticed, y’know? We didn’t count on this happenin’, nor did we think we’d run into…” He paused to stare at the boy for a moment. His gaze was met with an icy glare. “On behalf of my men, I would like to offer our sincerest apologies for our transgressions. We’ll leave the girl alone, so long as you let us leave in peace.”

“You mean as long as we don’t call the MPF?” corrected the boy in navy blue. “Why should we? You clowns aren’t even supposed to be here.”

The boy’s words were said with conviction and the girls beside him wore firm expressions, indicating they felt the same way. Something tugged at Daytona's heartstrings. Here was this boy and his friends whom she’s never even met going above and beyond to protect a fellow student.

The Jellyroll Man exchanged glances with the trio before sighing. “Look, kid, it’s like this….” He motioned for the tall boy to come closer. The boy squinted, skeptical of his request. To demonstrate that he had no ulterior motives, the gangster raised his hands where they could see them. The boy slowly approached him and leaned in close.

“......”

“......”

The gangster whispered something in the boy’s ear. Daytona watched as the boy’s expression changed from stern, to surprised in a matter of seconds. His eyes widened as he backed away from the Monarch leader.

“......”

He eyed the bloke as if trying to get a read on him. His eyes then found his friends who expressed worried looks. The boy’s face softened. Then, moments later, he closed his eyes, sighed, and with a look of reluctance, glanced over to the gang leader.

“Fine,” he said. “Grab your guys and get the hell out of here.”

“Huh?!”

“Will, what…?”

The bubblegum-haired girl and the witch expressed their concerns, but the boy shook his head and looked away. He didn't seem pleased with his decision either.

The Jellyroll Man beamed. “Smart man. A smart man, indeed. I knew you’d get the picture!” He scrambled over to the weasel and wrapped his arm around his shoulder. “Yo, Phil! Take Collin and Renfrew, will ya?”

The automaton grabbed the beastkin and the red half-oni, slumping the two of them over his shoulders. With a final nod to the trio and Daytona, the Jellyroll Man and the automaton sauntered through the alleyway from whence they came.

Once the Monarchs were finally out of sight, the bubblegum-haired girl spoke first.

“Hey, are you okay?” She approached Daytona and looked her over. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?

The witch followed suit. “If you need healing, let me know.”

“Oh, no. I'm fine, thanks,” Daytona assured them, smiling nervously. “I’m just grateful someone was around to help.”

“Phew. Thank goodness.” The witch gave a warm smile, her right hand on her heart. “It’s just that when we heard someone screaming back here, we assumed the worst.”

“Oh, no, that wasn’t me. It was that weaselly lad with the moss hair.”

“Wait, seriously?!” The short girl chortled at this. “You mean that wannabe tough guy was sounding like that?! That’s rich!”

Daytona chuckled. “Yeah. Ducked his punch. My hands were on the wall over there, so I ended up shockin’ ‘im. Completely by accident.”

“Uh-huh. An ‘accident’.” The pink-haired girl grinned as she made air quotes with her fingers.

“It was! Honest!”

The girls burst out laughing. Conversing with kids her age. This was something Daytona hadn’t done since coming to Marlia City, and it felt nice.

“You guys were awesome, by the way,” Daytona admitted. “I got turned around on my way to school, then I ran into those blokes and you can probably imagine the rest.” She clapped her hands together. “Thanks so, so much for saving me!”

“Ah, it was nothing,” the bubblegum girl blushed. “You should really be thanking Willy.” She pointed to the boy in navy blue with her thumb. “He saw them chase you here.”

“Oh…” Daytona’s eyes flicked over to him. His eyes were downcast, clearly still processing everything that’d just transpired. “Well, thanks! Er…’Willy’, was it?”

“Don't mention it,” he replied, not making eye contact. “And ‘Will’ is fine.”

“Oh, okay,” Daytona nodded. Understanding that his mind was preoccupied elsewhere, she didn’t take his coldness to heart.

“Hotaru… Chiaki…” Will finally lifted his gaze from the ground and addressed his friends. “About earlier…I…” He stopped himself. His hands balled into fists and the bubblegum-haired girl grabbed one of them with both of her hands.

“Hey, hey,” she said softly, looking him in the eye. “We all have things we don’t wanna talk about. So don’t go beating yourself up about not telling us.” She smiled. “It doesn’t have to be right this minute, but just know that you can talk to us whenever you’re ready…okay?”

The witch girl nodded silently, echoing the sentiment. The boy let those words sink in for a moment. He then exchanged glances with both of them before finally nodding. Daytona was beaming. Watching the two girls console their friend warmed her heart. She'd only recently met them, but something about them made her feel...at ease.

“GRAAAAAAAH!!!!”

“Jarrod, no! Come on man, it’s over!”

“Have you learned anything the first t-t-t-t-t-t-t…time?”

“OUTTA MY WAY!! YOU'LL PAY FOR EMBARRASSING ME, SQUIRT!!!”

This tender moment was cut short by yelling from the alley. The four kids whirled around to see Jarrod, the musclehead, charging back into the alley despite his comrades' pleas, like a drop bear on steroids.

“Heh. Back for more, eh?” The bubblegum-haired girl grinned as she assumed her fighting stance. “Don’t mind if I—”

The young witch stepped in front of her.

“Huh?” She furrowed a brow. “Chiaki, what are you…?”

Chiaki raised her hands and focused her palms on the large bloke, channeling her mana. Her eyes rolled back as she uttered an incantation.

“YOU'RE GONNA GET IT!!” Jarrod boomed as he continued to charge.

The young witch then finished her chant, and the large bloke began to slow down. And then his body started to change. His hair had grayed, his skin had wrinkled and drooped, and his spine creaked as his back began to hunch over. Before their very eyes, the musclehead was now old and feeble, crawling helplessly toward them.

“Wha..what happened...to me?” Jarrod asked in a wavery voice. His labored breathing indicated that he was struggling with the action. He looked up at the young witch, pain and confusion swam in his eyes. “What...did you do?”

“It's an aging spell, sir,” Chiaki answered politely, “No need to worry, it will wear off shortly.”

Jarrod squinted at her before raising a wrinkly hand to his ear. “Wazzat ya say?”

“I said it's only…” She stopped herself and sighed. “Never mind.”

Holy shit… Daytona gaped at the sight of Jarrod. Witnessing the graphic transformation made her somewhat nauseous. “Okay, now that...is just terrifying.”

“Agreed,” Will acknowledged.

“Ditto,” Hotaru nodded “Did you really have to do him like that, Ch-Chi?”

The young witch’s head snapped in their direction. “W-Well, it’s not like I wanted to do it!” She waved her arms in protest. “If I didn’t, a certain someone would’ve just caused more unnecessary damage, so I had no choice.”

After a brief pause, her hazel eyes cast an accusatory glance at Hotaru.

“Hm?” Hotaru blinked innocently.

Suddenly, there was a familiar siren blaring in the distance. In mere seconds, one became several. The MPF was on its way.

“Shit,” Hotaru griped.

“Hm. Sounds like they’re a couple of blocks away,” Will deduced.

“Ooooh, gods!” Chiaki paced back and forth, her fingers resting on her temples. “Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no!” She was practically sputtering. “What have I done?!”

Will folded his arms. “A month’s detention on our first day.” He sounded almost impressed. “That’s gotta be some kind of record.”

“Not helping, Will!” The young witch chided her friend. She then squatted down and whimpered. “Oooh, my parents are going to kill me…”

“Yeah, screw that!” Hotaru shook her head. “We have to get outta here!”

That was Daytona’s cue. “Don't fret, youse guys,” she assured, “I got this!”

Placing her index finger and thumb into her mouth, she whistled loudly. Suddenly, a white cumulus cloud swooped in from the sky and into the back alley, floating over to Daytona.

Prreeeeeep!

“Max!” She joyfully hugged her fractus friend. “I need a favor from you, buddy. Think you can fly us out of here?”

Prreeeeeep!

In an instant, the cloud grew to the size of four people. Daytona hopped on top of him and glanced over at the others.

“Hop on!!” She reached out to them. The trio exchanged glances. With no other options available, they finally nodded. Hotaru was the first to climb, then Will, then Chiaki. Soon, they were all aboard the sentient cumulus cloud.

“Oh…” Chiaki uttered, reacting to the cloud’s softness.

“Fluffy,” Will added.

“Hey, if you had Max the whole time, why didn't you just call him when you were in trouble?” wondered Hotaru.

“Max doesn't respond well to danger,” Daytona explained. “Especially when there’s a ton of people. He’ll freak out and shoot lightning everywhere.”

“Oh, my…” The young witch gulped at this new information. “Are you sure it’s safe for a group of strangers to board him?”

Daytona chuckled. “No worries, youse guys are fine.” She then peered down at her cumulus companion and patted him. “Alright Max, we’re all set!”

Prreeeeeep! Max chirped happily as he raised himself from the back alley and soared into the sky. The higher he flew, the smaller Marlia City looked from below.