Though the entire field was lined with stalls, they were confined to the field.
Other specialized arenas were being used normally for club performances.
The gymnasium was no exception.
When Erika had calmed down and regained her composure, she arrived with Mahiro to find the second small gymnasium hosting a kendo club demonstration.
"Oh~ Even though this is a magic high school, they still have a kendo club," Erika murmured casually.
The two of them were currently in the spectator area set up along the second-floor corridor, leaning against the railing to watch the kendo performance below.
"Hey, weren't you the one who dragged me here? You obviously knew about this beforehand, so why act surprised now?"
"Idiot! Couldn't you just pretend you didn't hear that?!"
Erika's face turned bright red at his teasing words, her small pink fists repeatedly pounding on his arm.
Though it seemed like venting frustration, it came across more like coquettish behavior, making Mahiro burst into laughter.
To an outside observer, they might have been mistaken for a couple.
"Still, even though it's just an exhibition match, that senpai from the kendo club seems pretty strong."
"You mean Mibu Sayaka?"
"Mhm."
"You know about kendo?"
"Nope."
Mahiro answered so decisively that Erika gave him a dumbfounded look.
"Then how do you know she's strong?"
"Because I sparred with her at the dojo a couple days ago—pure kendo match."
"Eh? Who won?"
The mention of a spar immediately piqued Erika's interest. She leaned in slightly, and a faint, delicate fragrance wafted into Mahiro's nose.
It was completely different from Mayumi-senpai's scent.
If Mayumi-senpai was like subtle vanilla, then Erika was like vibrant citrus—a sweet and tangy aroma that was quite pleasant.
Mahiro gradually refocused and answered nonchalantly:
"Of course it was me. Isn't that obvious?"
"Tch, liar."
"Why would I lie?"
"I don't believe you."
Erika shot him a sidelong glance and scoffed, "Mibu Sayaka was the runner-up in the national women's kendo tournament last year—a minor celebrity known as the 'Kendo Belle.' If you could beat her in kendo, you'd at least have 'Inka'-level swordsmanship."
He was aware of "Inka"—one of the ranks in kendo.
The hierarchy went: "Kirigami," "Mokuroku," "Inka," "Menkyo," and "Kaiden."
But he was more curious about something else.
"'Kendo Belle'? What's that?"
"It means 'kendo beauty,'" Erika explained with a wave of her hand.
Due to the champion's... less-than-stellar appearance, the title of "Kendo Belle" naturally fell to Mibu Sayaka.
This made the runner-up more famous than the actual champion.
That said, the title of "kendo beauty" suited her quite well.
Noticing Mahiro staring intently at the exhibition match below, a mischievous grin crept onto Erika's face.
"Hey~ Does Yotsuba-kun like girls like Mibu-senpai?"
"Yeah, I do. Her swordsmanship is beautiful," Mahiro admitted frankly. "But compared to her, I think Erika-san is cuter."
"Pfft, how insincere. Even if you say that, I won't be happy at all."
Though she glared at him sideways, the tips of her eyes still flushed slightly red.
Just then, a commotion broke out in the venue.
"Looks like there's some trouble down there."
"I see it~"
Resting his chin on his hand, Mahiro watched the disturbance below with Erika, both utterly bored.
Judging by the looks of it, this seems to be a clash between the Kenjutsu Club and the Kendo Club.
A collision between modernity and tradition?
No.
That doesn't seem to be the case.
"Well, well, things are getting interesting."
Erika suddenly murmured in a tone resembling a soliloquy, her voice alone betraying her eager anticipation for what was to come.
"How so?"
"Didn't I just say? Mibu Sayaka is the 'Kendo Belle,' and that guy has his own reputation too."
A hint of reminiscence flashed in Erika's eyes as she continued:
"That guy is Kirihara Takeaki. He was the middle school division champion of the Kantō Kenjutsu Tournament two years ago—a bona fide first-place winner."
"Compared to the Kantō regional tournament, the national one obviously holds more weight, doesn't it?"
"Well, that's true," Erika waved her hand dismissively, explaining, "But in the end, magic sword techniques are far more practical than traditional swordsmanship."
"Is that so."
With that, he suddenly vaulted over the railing.
"Hey! Yotsuba? What are you doing?!"
"I'm going to lend a hand!"
Mahiro answered, his figure already vanishing into the crowd.
"This guy... He promised to watch the excitement with me," Erika grumbled, crossing her arms in clear dissatisfaction.
But even so, she didn't leave, intent on seeing the spectacle unfold below.
This conflict was far from just a simple clash.
Anyone could tell Kirihara Takeaki was deliberately provoking—perhaps even planning this for a long time.
Mahiro had realized this too, which was why he rushed down, wanting to see what this Kirihara-senpai was really up to.
"Oh~ Looks like it's about to start."
At that moment, the tension between the two sides on the first floor of the gymnasium had reached its limit.
The atmosphere was thick with hostility, clearly impossible to end peacefully.
And just as Erika and Mahiro had guessed, the first to act was none other than Kirihara-senpai.
He stepped forward with a wooden sword in hand.
"Sayaka, let's have a match. Don't worry—it's a demonstration match for the Kendo Club. I'll refrain from using magic to accommodate you."
His tone was dripping with the condescension typical of a First Course student.
Sayaka's brows furrowed slightly in displeasure as she replied sternly, "Do you really think you can beat me with just swordsmanship? Kirihara-kun from the Kenjutsu Club, who relies solely on magic—do you truly believe you can defeat me, who has dedicated myself to honing pure swordsmanship in the Kendo Club all this time?"
For Sayaka, this could be considered the greatest insult imaginable.
She had poured her entire being into kendo, yet someone from the swordsmanship club dared to challenge her without relying on magic.
How utterly arrogant!
"Quite the bold claim, Mibu," Kirihara sneered. "Then let me show you."
"Show you the swordsmanship I've honed in this realm beyond physical limits!"
With those words, the duel between their clubs began.
The moment his voice fell, Kirihara suddenly raised his wooden sword and swung at Sayaka—who wasn't wearing protective headgear.
Crack! Crack!
The violent clash of wooden blades produced sharp, explosive sounds like gunfire.
Screams erupted from the spectators.
But the two combatants remained utterly focused on their duel.
Though they wielded only wooden swords, the impacts roared like clashing metal.
Even without seeing the match, one could imagine the intensity of their exchange.
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