Chapter 17: Attack of the Darkmoon

Esper Ability Name: "Mage." It sounded so deceptively simple.

What she, Hana Tanaka, could actually accomplish with it at her current, still-developing stage—well, picture this: pretty much anything you could imagine some ridiculously overpowered archmage from a fantasy epic being able to do, she could theoretically, eventually, do. It was just a matter of… scale, really. And a whole lot more tedious practice.

“Magic Barrier! Now!”

A triangular, shimmering barrier of pure magical light instantly materialized before Hana and her terrified, screaming friends, just in the nick of time to intercept a gigantic, grotesque, slime-coated tongue that had lashed out from some unseen horror. The barrier shattered into a million glittering fragments on impact, but thankfully, the monstrous tongue seemed to have expended a good deal of its disgusting force in the process, recoiling slightly.

“Invisibility! Quick, everyone!”

Flecks of ethereal light showered down upon the trembling girls, and in the next heart-stopping moment, they all, as one, vanished completely from sight. Poof!

“It’s a fiend! A real one! Scatter and run for your LIVES!” Hana yelled, her voice impressively steady despite the adrenaline thumping a frantic rhythm against her ribs.

Hana, in that critical, life-or-death moment, made the most logical, tactically sound choice. She couldn’t yet conjure magic powerful enough to truly resist a fiend of this apparent magnitude head-on; that kind of firepower was still way beyond her pay grade. And complex spells like direct, group spatial teleportation? They required significant, uninterrupted casting time—time they most certainly did not have with a giant frog-monster playing tonsil hockey with the scenery. Right now, the lowest-mana-cost, most immediately effective spell in her arsenal was mass invisibility. Whether they actually managed to escape with their lives or ended up as fiend-chow now depended entirely on everyone’s individual luck stat and their ability to not trip over their own feet while panicking.

Besides, she reasoned with a grim sort of pragmatism, if a fiend was launching a surprise attack of this scale, why would it only target a few unsuspecting teenage girls out on a shopping trip? That would be ridiculously inefficient. Everyone on this crowded street, every man, woman, and child, was a potential target, a potential scream to fuel its dark powers. Correspondingly, a small, invisible, and rapidly retreating individual was, statistically speaking, much, much safer than a large, screaming, highly visible group.

She didn’t know if her actions, her immediate prioritization of her friends’ escape, counted as selfish or even slightly unethical from a hero-in-training perspective. But this was her instinctive, primal, lizard-brain reaction the moment she fully processed that they were under a genuine, no-kidding fiend attack. Self-preservation first, heroic posturing later.

A fiend! How can there possibly be a fiend attack here?! In S-City?!

Hadn’t all the online forums, the official news reports, the glossy city tourism brochures, been proudly, almost smugly, proclaiming that S-City was well on track to be officially rated one of the safest, most fiend-free urban districts in the entire goddamn country? Wasn’t this place supposed to be under the impenetrable, ever-watchful protection of the strongest, most beloved magical girl in existence, Strawberry Sweetheart, and the terrifying, newly debuted powerhouse, Magical Girl Black, who was already being widely, if nervously, touted as a potential rival to Strawberry’s dominance?! How dare any fiend, any at all, still have the sheer, unmitigated audacity to pop up here and cause trouble! Did these fiends not possess even a single, solitary, functioning brain cell between their slimy, grotesque heads?! Were they actively trying to get themselves obliterated?!

Although her mind was reeling with a thousand bewildered, indignant questions, Hana didn’t hesitate for a second. She knew, with a grim sort of certainty, what she had to do now. Stall for time. Distract the monster. Use any low-mana-cost, flashy but ultimately harmless trick she could think of, until either the cavalry (Strawberry Sweetheart) or the terrifying black-clad bulldozer (Magical Girl Black) finally arrived to save the day. Hopefully sooner rather than later.

“Magic: Grant me the lightness of a feather! And the speed of a very angry hummingbird!”

After hastily casting the enhancement spell on herself, her body felt incredibly, almost unnaturally light. She dispelled her own invisibility, becoming a sudden, defiant splash of color in the chaotic street. In her outstretched hand, a spear of glistening, razor-sharp ice materialized out of thin air, radiating an icy chill. With a surge of adrenaline-fueled speed that surprised even herself, she charged headlong towards the now-fully-visible, and thoroughly disgusting giant frog-like fiend. As she ensured her friends were making good their escape, a sudden, fierce thought ignited in her mind: I am Hana Tanaka! And I am going to be a Superhero! With that resolve hardening her heart, she knew she had to try and protect the other innocent, screaming people still trapped on the street.

Don’t even think about actually winning this… just stall for time… buy them a few precious seconds… that’s all you can do…

Meanwhile, in a completely different, and up until a moment ago, perfectly peaceful city block, Akari Natsume—aka Strawberry Sweetheart—suddenly found that the bustling, vibrant street around her had become eerily, unnaturally empty. Silent. She frowned, a prickle of unease skittering down her spine. And in that precise instant, with a brilliant, almost blinding flash of incandescent pink light, she transformed. She was now Magical Girl Strawberry Sweetheart, defender of justice, champion of all that was good and sparkly.

Holding her signature, heart-adorned pink staff aloft, she declared, her voice ringing with righteous fury, “By the sacred power of love and unwavering justice! Strawberry Sweetheart will deliver your swift and glittery punishment! I can already sense your vile, disgusting presence… Darkmoon Queen! Show yourself, you coward!”

From the deepest, inkiest shadows, wreathed in ominous, flickering, pitch-black flames that seemed to absorb all light, a tall, impossibly regal woman emerged, her every movement exuding an aura of cold, predatory grace.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t little Strawberry Sweetheart. It’s been such a long time, hasn’t it, my dear?” Darkmoon Queen’s voice was a silken purr, laced with venom. “I must say, I owe you quite a significant debt of gratitude for your… enthusiastic attentions… during our last delightful encounter. You beat me quite thoroughly, as I recall! Almost to death, in fact! Such spirit!”

Strawberry Sweetheart’s gaze was stern, her expression hard as diamond. “I honestly thought the pathetic Darkmoon Coven had finally, mercifully disbanded after your last humiliating defeat! I never imagined, not even in my darkest nightmares, that you’d still be unwilling to give up your wicked, destructive ways. People like you… you’re truly, irredeemably beyond redemption! A lost cause!”

“Ah! But of course, my dear! I am! Utterly, gloriously, beautifully beyond redemption!” Darkmoon Queen’s laughter was like the tinkling of shattered ice, cold and sharp. “Strawberry Sweetheart, my sweet, naive little hero, if I don’t actively work to destroy you all, to shatter your precious hopes and dreams, the pain, the sheer boredom, is simply unbearable. Every single time I see you insipid magical girls able to laugh your sickeningly sweet laughs, able to look so disgustingly, nauseatingly cute under the adoring, idiotic gaze of the brainwashed masses, chased after by legions of slobbering fans, held up on ridiculously high pedestals as paragons of virtue—it positively torments me! It makes my skin crawl! If I don’t see that exquisite look of pure, unadulterated pain and soul-crushing despair on your pretty little face, Strawberry, then the agony, the suffering, can only exist within me! And that, my dear, is simply unacceptable!”

She seemed to recall something particularly amusing, a cruel smile gracing her perfectly sculpted lips. “Do you remember, Strawberry, that delightful little incident when you were forced to… eliminate… your precious little friend, Blueberry? Oh, I remember the look on your face back then with crystal clarity! The you of that tragic, heart-wrenching moment… it gave me the most exquisite, unparalleled pleasure! How I long, how I yearn, to see you make that wonderfully tormented, utterly broken expression once more!”

She spread her arms wide, a gesture of grand, theatrical invitation. “Behold, my dear! I’ve driven all the insignificant little sheep away! Here, in this empty, silent stage I’ve prepared just for you, you can finally let loose! You can Invert! Use that dark, forbidden form you never want to remember, that terrifying power you never want to speak of! Use that magnificent power of pure, unadulterated vengeance you’ve so reluctantly mastered and fight me! Your fists, back then, when you were lost in your despair… they really, really hurt, you know!! It was divine!”

“This time… this time, I will defeat you! For good!” A brilliant, almost blinding pink aura of pure, concentrated magical energy enveloped Strawberry Sweetheart, and she shot towards the cackling Darkmoon Queen like a radiant, avenging comet.

Much like her pink-clad counterpart, Magical Girl Black was also, at that very moment, under a sudden, vicious attack. She was with Ren, discussing important Supporter business (or rather, Ren was trying to discuss business while Black was mostly grumbling), when, suddenly, without any warning whatsoever, a disturbingly slender, almost wraith-like man materialized directly before them out of thin air. His complexion was a deathly, almost translucent pale. If one had to describe him with a single, evocative word, he bore an uncanny, unsettling resemblance to the so-called aristocratic vampires from countless gothic horror novels and cheesy late-night movies—a somewhat alluringly demonic, almost pretty and deeply unsettling man.

Black (Kenji Tanaka, a man of simple, unpretentious tastes) wasn’t particularly fond of this overly flamboyant, pretty-boy type of man. Not at all. They always looked like walking, talking, insufferably pretentious peacocks, all flash and no substance. Someone as plain, simple, and down-to-earth as her had the absolute worst compatibility with such ostentatious, drama-queen types. It was oil and water. Or rather, a sledgehammer and a delicate porcelain doll.

“A fiend! That crest… it’s Darkstar Count!” Ren immediately, and with an impressive display of Supporter knowledge, recognized the newcomer’s identity and affiliation. “For you to appear here, now… it means the Darkmoon Coven is finally making a major move!”

In truth, for ordinary, everyday citizens, it was incredibly difficult, if not impossible, to recognize most fiends by name or reputation unless one was directly involved in the hero industry or an obsessive follower of fiend-related news. Clearly, Black, who had only been officially on the job for a ridiculously short while, had absolutely no idea who this "Darkstar Count" fellow, with his ridiculous title and even more ridiculous fashion sense, was supposed to be. But Ren, who had been diligently, almost obsessively studying to become a top-tier Supporter for years, recognized him instantly from the organization’s most wanted database.

“Well, well, well, little boy. You seem to have actually heard my illustrious name. How… quaint. You must be Magical Girl Black’s new little Supporter, then. How… impressive,” Darkstar Count said, a grotesque, humorless smile spreading slowly, like a disease, across his unnaturally pale face. “However, I’m afraid your time, and your rather short-lived careers, are well and truly up. Magical Girl Black, today, you will have the distinct displeasure of dying right here, by my noble hand.”

“Be incredibly careful, Black! This one is extremely strong! He’s fought toe-to-toe with Strawberry Sweetheart before and lived to tell the tale! Besides, we still don’t know where Darkmoon Queen, the terrifying leader of the Darkmoon Coven, is currently lurking! She could ambush us at any moment! We need a plan!” Ren warned urgently, his voice tight with tension, already calculating threat levels and escape probabilities.

Black, however, had already, with a familiar and bored sigh, slipped on her custom-made, fiend-pulverizing knuckle dusters. “Just make sure you protect yourself, Ren. Stay out of my way.” She had absolutely no intention of wasting precious time or energy engaging in pointless, pre-battle banter with this theatrical, monologuing fiend. Dark, potent power surged around her, and the casual, slightly-too-small clothes she’d been uncomfortably wearing vanished in a flash of shadow, replaced instantly by her signature black, no-nonsense combat Dress.

“If there’s one thing I absolutely despise in this world,” Black growled, her voice a low rumble of impending violence, “it’s pretty-boy, theatrical wimps like you!” With a speed that belied her petite frame, Black appeared directly in front of the startled Darkstar Count, aiming a vicious, unadorned, straight punch directly at his annoyingly handsome, smirking face.

A shimmering sphere of pitch-black, viscous energy materialized with impossible speed beside Darkstar Count’s aristocratic cheek, just in time to deflect Black’s bone-jarring fist with a dull, sickening thud.

“Is this the true extent of your legendary power, Magical Girl Black?” Darkstar Count sneered, his voice dripping with condescension. “I heard the organization held you in such high regard, that you were their new secret weapon. From the looks of it now, you’re nothing more than a common, brutish thug. How… disappointing.” The sphere of dark energy beside him suddenly, viciously, unleashed a concentrated, razor-thin black beam, seemingly intending to slice Magical Girl Black cleanly in two, like a piece of paper.

Black, with a grunt of annoyance, dodged the deadly beam with a swift, contemptuous sidestep. The beam struck a solid concrete wall behind her, instantly, silently cleaving it in half as if it were made of butter.

“You arrogant bastard! So you think you’re the only one who can use that cheap parlor trick, huh!” Black snarled, her patience wearing dangerously thin. Equally dark, menacing spheres of raw, destructive energy began to coalesce in her own clenched fists. She personally, deeply disliked this kind of flashy, inefficient, energy-wasting combat style. It was messy. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t, when suitably provoked, use it to devastating effect.

“Interesting. Most interesting,” Darkstar Count mused, a flicker of genuine surprise in his eyes. “Our powers, it seems, are quite similar in their fundamental essence, Magical Girl Black. So raw. So destructive. So… dark. Would you perhaps be willing to… reconsider your current allegiance? To join our glorious Darkmoon Coven? I can sense the profound, beautiful darkness that festers within your heart, Black. You absolutely, positively do not belong standing in the harsh, unforgiving light. The self-righteous spotlight of heroism cannot, will not, tolerate even the slightest, most insignificant shadow, even if that shadow merely wishes to peacefully coexist with the light. You will never find true peace, true acceptance, in their hypocritical world of brightness. Your true path, your true destiny, lies with us, in the comforting, all-embracing darkness.” He extended a pale, elegant hand in a gesture of invitation.

What is this insufferable, chuuni brat spouting now? Seriously? Black thought, utterly, completely unimpressed. Her eyes practically glazed over with boredom. Is he actually trying to recruit me with this angsty, overwritten, pseudo-philosophical nonsense? He’s clearly been poisoned by watching too many terrible late-night anime and reading too many bad isekai novels. That’s the only possible explanation for why he’s saying such utterly meaningless, cringe-inducing things with a completely straight face.

Adults, real adults with mortgages and bills to pay, talk about practical benefits, you clueless idiot! About salary! About career prospects! About dental plans! You’re not mentioning my potential starting salary, you’re not outlining any clear advancement opportunities, you’re not even offering a decent pension plan! So how in the hell am I supposed to see any viable future for myself with your clearly underfunded, amateurishly run Darkmoon Coven? You’re just a delusional, pretty-boy brat who doesn’t even know how to make a proper, enticing sales pitch! If it weren’t for that flashy Esper ability of yours, you probably couldn’t even find a job flipping burgers at a fast-food joint! Pathetic!

“Listen here, young man, don’t be so ridiculously naive! And get a haircut!” Black retorted, her voice dripping with the weary sarcasm of a thousand unproductive corporate meetings. “You actually think saying such utterly pretentious, nonsensical things will somehow sway me? Me, a veteran of the soul-crushing grind? Ha! Go back home and suck your mommy’s tits, pretty boy! And maybe read a book on basic economics!”

Huh? Wha—?

Darkstar Count was visibly, almost comically, stunned. He blinked. The magical girls he remembered, the ones from the heroic legends, the ones like the so-called "strongest," Strawberry Sweetheart… weren’t they supposed to counter his seductive offer of darkness with noble, impassioned speeches like, “Darkness, however alluring, cannot last forever! I will always, eternally, be a steadfast companion of the glorious light!” or some other such predictable, heroic, and frankly quite boring drivel?

“Young man, don’t be so naive? Go home and suck my mother’s tits?” What kind of bizarre, anachronistic, and frankly deeply insulting response was that?!

Darkstar Count, the cool, composed, aristocratic fiend, had to admit, with a surge of unexpected, mortifying heat rising to his pale cheeks, that he was… blushing. Furiously. He was actually, physically seeing red. Not from rage, but from sheer, unadulterated embarrassment.

As an Esper, a powerful, respected Esper, he had always, always believed that Espers, even those who had chosen the path of villainy, were inherently noble, superior beings. That was why, even as a fiend, he always maintained a certain decorum, a refined elegance. He firmly believed that he was absolutely not some kind of low-class, uncouth, ill-mannered street ruffian. Even in battle, even if he were to unfortunately, tragically lose—he had to lose with the inherent dignity, the undeniable style, of an upper-class gentleman. In fact, most Espers, hero and villain alike, felt that way. It was a matter of pride. Of status.

But this Magical Girl Black… this crude, unpredictable, utterly infuriating person… she was… different. So very, very different. And it was making his aristocratic blood boil.

With a snarl of pure, unadulterated frustration, seven or eight crackling spheres of pitch-black, pulsating light instantly appeared around him, unleashing a massive, concentrated barrage of destructive energy directly towards the smirking Magical Girl Black.

“Hey! Look at that! You’re getting all flustered, aren’t ya, pretty boy!” Black taunted, easily dodging the incoming attacks with a smirk. (She wasn’t actually this foul-mouthed or deliberately provocative usually. It was just that this was the first time she’d encountered a fiend with such impressively high raw power levels, and she genuinely wanted to see just how strong, how dangerous, he really was. So, she was deliberately, strategically trying to provoke him, to push his buttons, to make him lose his cool. It was a sound tactical decision. Mostly.) “Why are you getting so worked up, huh? Are you in such a desperate hurry to come and pay your filial respects to your dear old daddy, me? Is that it?”

It had to be said, this was the first time Black had encountered someone whose raw power levels actually felt notablely higher than her own. She knew, with a grim certainty, that she couldn’t take those terrifying energy balls head-on; trying to block them with her standard magical girl Dress would undoubtedly, catastrophically consume a massive, irreplaceable amount of her precious stamina. So, this is an opponent that even Strawberry Sweetheart once struggled against? She definitely didn’t fight this pretty-boy psycho in her normal, underpowered form. No way.

Frantically, almost desperately dodging his relentless, bullet-hell-like attacks, Magical Girl Black repeatedly, heroically (and with much internal cursing) tried to close the distance, to get into her preferred punching range. But the enemy’s seemingly endless barrage of energy blasts created an almost impenetrable curtain of destruction, leaving absolutely no openings, no weaknesses. She simply couldn’t get close enough to land a decent hit. Damn it! This is annoying! Does this guy’s attacks not consume any energy at all? Just spamming powerful skills like this, with no cooldown and no cost? That’s just too broken! It’s unfair! It’s cheap!

“BLACK! LISTEN TO ME! DARKSTAR COUNT’S POWER! IT’S DIRECTLY FUELED BY PEOPLE’S FEAR!” Ren Akiyama, having somehow, miraculously, found a ridiculously large, industrial-strength megaphone (probably standard Supporter issue for dealing with noisy magical girls), was now shouting at the top of his lungs at Black from a relatively safe distance. “AS LONG AS SOMEONE, ANYONE, FEARS HIS ATTACKS, HE’LL HAVE A VIRTUALLY LIMITLESS SUPPLY OF POWER! THIS IS A TERRIBLE, ABSOLUTELY CATASTROPHIC MATCHUP FOR YOUR CURRENT COMBAT STYLE, BLACK! ONLY STRAWBERRY SWEETHEART’S SPARKLING FORM, WITH ITS EMOTION-SOOTHING AURA, CAN EASILY DEAL WITH HIM AND NEGATE HIS ABILITY!”

It was only then, hearing Ren’s desperate, amplified warning, that Black finally, finally realized why, even though the pretty-boy fiend’s attacks seemed like a dense, inescapable curtain of pure, destructive projectiles, and even though terrified screams were erupting from the panicked civilians on the ground below, there hadn’t actually been that many serious casualties so far. So, it was because this fiend, this walking embodiment of teenage angst, actually needed to use people’s raw, unadulterated fear to gain his power… Damn it all! Fighting him here, in a crowded, terrified city, is like him having an infinite, self-recharging power bank strapped to his damn back! This is bad! Really, really bad!

But… asking the terrified people below to simply… not be afraid? When they were being attacked by a super-powered, energy-blasting fiend? That wasn’t something easily, or even remotely, achievable. If it were Strawberry Sweetheart’s legendary Sparkling Form, with its calming, hope-inspiring aura, she could probably soothe everyone and negate his power source. But Strawberry Sweetheart… Where the hell is Strawberry Sweetheart when you actually need her?! Probably off signing autographs or something!

“Despair, do you, Magical Girl Black? Can you feel the hopelessness closing in?” Darkstar Count laughed, a wild, maniacal cackle that echoed through the chaotic streets. “Your only conceivable path to victory now, the only way you could possibly defeat me, is to… kill everyone below. Slaughter all those innocent, screaming sheep. That way, I will finally lose the source of my magnificent power and inevitably fall to your brutal fists. But by then, of course,” he added, his voice dripping with sadistic glee, “you’ll no longer be a magical girl, will you? You’ll be a monster. Just like me.” He cackled again, a sound of pure, unadulterated evil. “Face it, Black! You do not possess the power of true light! You cannot, will not, ever truly stand on the side of brightness! You belong in the shadows, with us!”