3_Chapter 3_ English Puritanism_1

In fact, most of them are people just like you. They go to school, spend time with friends, eat hamburgers on the way home—that’s their whole world to them. They don’t know about the sorcerers lurking in the shadows, nor do they notice all the deals made among various groups to keep a magical war from occurring. They are truly virtuous, powerless lambs.” Then, the sorcerer, with Kamijou still holding on to his collar, asked coolly. It was indeed as though he were a demon urging him to an agreement. “Now this is the problem—can you wrap them up in this? Do you want to get people, ignorant of the truth, who are part of these religions involved in this, rob them, kill them, take everything they have, just so you can protect Orsola Aquinas?” “…” The strength in the hands Kamijou was grabbing Stiyl’s collar with faded. Index tried to say something, but she didn’t know what, so she just took a long breath. This was the difference between amateurs and professionals. This was the difference between individuals and organizations. Stiyl spat out his cigarette tiredly, crushed it with his foot, and turned to look at Tatemiya. “I don’t have the right to stop you from doing anything, though. You can fight all you want for Orsola, since she asked, or your subordinates, or whatever you want. But if you’re going, then you’re doing it alone. If you try to get English Puritanism involved in this, they will turn this entire island nation into scorched earth to uproot and massacre Amakusa,” threatened Stiyl—but Tatemiya’s expression didn’t change. “Man, I know that much. Oh, come on, kid. Don’t get so down. The English Puritan Church might not have any reason to fight, but we’ve got a big one. I’m just gonna pay a visit to their little hideout, rescue my allies, and maybe give Orsola a lift while I’m at it. What? We’re used to throwing a few talented people at stupidly huge groups. Our sect evolved by opposing the Tokugawa Shogunate, after all.” Kamijou brought his head up at what he said. Index, next to him, looked at Tatemiya’s face. “You’re going to call the rest of your friends from Amakusa’s main base? But you’ll have to wait another day to use the special movement method, and if you wait that long, the Romans might go back home.” “Yeah. Can’t take the safe option in this situation,” said Tatemiya, swinging his white sword a bit. Stiyl said in an uninterested voice, “Are you saying you’re going alone?” “There’s no other choice, so I need to. Fortunately though, those idiots may have gotten taken away, but they haven’t been executed…If they wanted to kill us, they wouldn’t have bothered capturing us—they would have just cut us down on the spot. It’d be more realistic for them to deliver a sentence to us with Orsola, saying that she conspired with Amakusa to steal the Book of the Law. So if I break ’em out and incite things the right way, we might actually have a chance of barely winning.” Tatemiya concealed his tension with a jovial expression. “The best time to go at them is when they’re on the move.” He waved his giant sword around. “Amakusa’s been pursued for a long time—we’re pretty familiar with how scary and fragile groups can be. A large group of people is at its weakest when it’s on the move. After all, the Romans captured more than three hundred Amakusa members, y’know? They can’t move around properly with only the nuns they have. If hundreds of sisters dressed in black went on parade through the city together, they could end up on TV as a demonstration or a riot or somethin’. “So they’re gonna have some kind of camouflage for when they move, just in case. Like splitting into smaller groups and going by car. It’s an established tactic—when they’re camouflaging themselves, they can’t use the full extent of their power, making it the best—and only—time to launch a surprise attack.” From what Tatemiya was saying, the Roman Orthodox Church wouldn’t use magic to move like Amakusa did. And it was too late at night for them to charter a boat or plane. Their exodus would probably wait to begin until morning, when the harbors and airports opened up. “…” Their moving was the greatest opportunity. But that also meant they couldn’t do anything until they started moving, too. Stiyl said that in order for the Roman Orthodox Church to erase Orsola, they needed to follow a procedure called an inquisition. But on top of that, it meant that until they killed her, they could do anything they wanted and it would be overlooked. Violence, inflicted by a surrounding group of two hundred and fifty people. In a way, that could be more terrifying than a punishment based on proper rules. After all, it wasn’t clearly defined in their laws—there wasn’t a clear line between how much was okay and how much wasn’t. Could they do anything to her as long as she didn’t die? Would they say she was lucky, no matter what they did to her, just because she was breathing? Kamijou’s face clouded over, and Tatemiya seemed to suspect his apprehensions. “…Might be a bit cruel to tell you to understand. Even we’ve got things we know we can and can’t do.” His words were mixed with bitterness. A professional like him could probably imagine things more vividly than an amateur like Kamijou. About how the Romans treated captured enemies. Touma Kamijou punched a nearby telephone pole with all his might. Despite being able to visualize the worst possible situation, he couldn’t take any action whatsoever—and he felt ashamed to no end for it. Stiyl disinterestedly looked at Kamijou, who was unable to make any sort of reply, and said, “Looks like that settles it. We should split up and hide as well. Guess I’ll give the higher-ups a ring and ask what to do next. Our problems with the Romans and Amakusa have been cleared up, but I’ll need to do something about Kanzaki now. Touma Kamijou, you take Index back to Academy City. Right now, having gotten their hands on the most important person, Orsola, the Romans wouldn’t consider attacking you two outsiders, since it would mean picking a fight with the scientific side of things.” He lit a new cigarette. “Well, if the English Puritan Church at least had a proper reason to rescue Orsola Aquinas, it would be a different story—but this is all we can do.” He blew out smoke, sounding thoroughly uninterested. “Right. Also, Touma Kamijou. There was something I wanted to ask.” “…What?” He turned around, exhausted. Stiyl continued, giving a cynical smile. “That cross I gave you before. You don’t seem to have it on you—where’d you put it?” “…” Kamijou thought for a moment, then remembered. “Sorry. I gave it to Orsola. She seemed really happy I put it around her neck, though. Was it really that valuable?” “No, it was an entirely normal iron cross. They’re probably souvenirs produced en masse by some factory. They’re all over England—it’s the cross of Saint George, which is also part of our nation’s flag.” Stiyl grinned for some reason, seeming a bit pleased. “That cross has no value as an ornament or an antique. The thing had value while you were carrying it…but whatever. You don’t need it anymore anyway,” said Stiyl cryptically, blowing out another puff of smoke. Without knowing what he meant by that, Kamijou withdrew to the dark road. And thus the curtains fell on a disappointing ending to a disappointing incident. 3 Saiji Tatemiya was gone. Stiyl seemed to want to guard Index until she safely got into Academy City. She was next to Kamijou, who was trudging down the night road, but seemed to be at a loss for words. This may have been the capital of Japan, but when you got away from the center, it was veiled in the dark of night. Checking the time revealed it was past one in the morning, and most of the city lights were out. A few apartment complexes had lights in their windows here and there like missing teeth, and sometimes a taxi with someone drunk in it would pass by. The streetlights kept on flickering unreliably, illuminating the many moths gathering to them. Their unexpected day revolving around fighting was already over. In just a few hours, he would be going back to his normal life, centered around school. Kamijou would shake the lack of sleep from his head, go to school, take some boring classes, talk about dumb stuff to Tsuchimikado and Blue Hair on the way home, and be on the receiving end of Mikoto’s biribiri for not completing his summer homework after all. “…What should I have done?” he said suddenly. Index looked up at him, but he was still looking down, dejected. He wanted to save Orsola Aquinas. But he couldn’t think of any way to do that. “I get that an amateur can’t think of a way to beat a professional. But I still think maybe there was something even an amateur could have done. Like when I first met Orsola, if I had just taken her to Academy City like she asked—what would have happened then? And if we didn’t help the Roman Orthodox Church, maybe she could have gotten away with Amakusa and their special movement method.” “Touma…” “No, I get it. Those things only seem hopeful because I’m not looking at their end results. Even if Orsola got into Academy City, the Romans would have given chase and followed her in. Even if we didn’t help them, they would have used their human wave tactics, searched every nook and cranny, and found where Amakusa was gathering. I get all that, but still…” He thought back. Back to when he first met Orsola. That uneasy voice asking him to tell her how to get into Academy City. Her smile when they were hiding out in the theme park. Her words, spoken strangely readily, as though she thought she’d finally found someone she could trust. And last of all—that shriek of despair they had heard from somewhere. “But really…what should we have done?” He knew that just thinking like this was the act of an amateur who didn’t fully grasp the dangers. This incident had nothing to do with him. A simple high school student had chanced a glimpse at how harsh the world of professional sorcery was, and now he was going back to his own world. No one would blame him for it. Anyone who knew firsthand how terrifying the real world of sorcery was would probably breathe a sigh of relief upon seeing his safe return. Stiyl must have thought he’d finished explaining everything he needed to, so he didn’t say even a word despite hearing Kamijou’s complaints. On the other hand, Index looked up into Kamijou’s face. “…Touma. This is a problem for sorcerers, so you don’t need to get yourself involved. I can’t say much, since I can’t do anything anyway, but Saiji Tatemiya said he’d do it, so I think we just have to trust him…” “…Right.” Index looked about to cry at Kamijou’s unfocused response. “That’s right! Touma, there’s no rule saying you have to settle every problem sorcerers have! I think if anyone, you should blame me, the anti-sorcery expert, for not being able to do anything. But the problems that can be solved will be solved even if you’re not there. Touma, I think you’ve gotten involved with a lot of sorcerers, for an outsider. But there are a whole lot of sorcerers in the world you don’t know, and they all have their own problems, and they figure them out without needing to borrow your strength. This time is the same—it’s just that this is the first time you’ve seen an incident you weren’t involved in ending.” “Is that right?” Kamijou answered mechanically—but he was surprised on the inside. She should be able to imagine what fate awaited Orsola, too—but she had firmly told him not to get involved with this incident anymore. Or maybe it was backward. If she made a contradictory statement, then maybe Kamijou wouldn’t praise her anymore. “Yeah. Things have been weird until now. No one can solve every problem they see by themselves. Touma, you can ask people for help. You can trust other people with the endings. Just because you see a house on fire and there’s a little kid still inside, there’s no reason you have to jump in. Calling for help in that situation isn’t shameful at all,” Index said. “Touma, I think you should rely on other people more. We’re from Necessarius—that’s what it was made for. No one will blame you just because you couldn’t solve a problem yourself that even an organization like ours is having trouble with.” “…” It just so happened that he didn’t have a place in this, in the end. Maybe that’s all it was. Just because his part was over didn’t mean the incident suddenly ended there. Maybe Saiji Tatemiya would just take up the mantle of protagonist from here and settle things. She was right—just because a random attacker incident happened right in front of him, there was no rule saying that witnesses needed to resolve it. Nobody would blame the witnesses for the police arresting the criminal. “I wonder if Tatemiya can do it.” “I think he has a chance at winning. He’s a real sorcerer, after all. Amakusa has a particularly harsh history of oppression—these sorts of odds we’re facing are their specialty. They wouldn’t take on an enemy they couldn’t beat.” I see, nodded Kamijou. He thought to himself—this was enough. He thought to himself—if they’d resolve this incident without him forcing himself to fight, then there was no need for an amateur to butt in. That was a normal idea. A clueless amateur doing as he pleased and throwing things into confusion could trigger everything going in an even worse direction—so not getting involved instead seemed like a good plan in its own right. There was no rule saying he had to resolve every incident. In fact, if he took a step back, there were plenty more incidents resolved without Kamijou’s help. He didn’t need to worry about having gotten a glimpse of one of them. Even without his involvement, someone would take it upon themselves to close the curtains on it. He looked up into the night sky and slowly stretched both of his hands into the air. Suddenly growing aware of all his pent-up exhaustion, he finally started to yearn for the futon in his dorm. “Guess we’ll go home,” said Kamijou aloud—as if to draw a clear line between his normal and abnormal lives. “Oh, right. Before we go back, I want to drop by a store. Supermarkets and department stores won’t be open this late, so it’ll have to be a convenience store. The fridge is empty, so I figured I’d go and buy a bunch of stuff…but whatever. I want to see what places outside Academy City have—maybe they’ve got bento they don’t sell on the inside.” “…Touma. I think I’m suddenly really tired of domestic life.” “Well, sorry. I’m just a boring high school kid who thinks it’s fun to have a household account book now, that’s all.” “I want to eat luxurious meals without having to worry about your account book once in a while.” “If you don’t like it, fine. But tomorrow’s breakfast will be an empty plate with some water. You’ll have to make up for the rest with that active imagination of yours.” “Touma?!” shouted Index, despite it being night. Kamijou looked at the girl devourer as her face paled at such a simple thought and grinned. “Then why don’t I go hit a convenience store and find some breakfast for tomorrow?” “Huh? If you’re going to the ‘store,’ then maybe we should all go.” “If I brought you, I wouldn’t be able to shop—you’d throw everything within reach into the basket. All right, I won’t be long. Stiyl, could you bring Index back to Academy City ahead of me? You brought us out, so you can sneak back in, I’m sure…Actually, er, if you did that might be a problem in its own right…” “If you say so. Your suggestion benefits her—so I don’t mind…” Stiyl wiggled the cigarette in the corner of his mouth up and down. “By the way, you know where it is?” “…No, but…Convenience stores are everywhere—I’ll just run around here for a bit.” “Fine.” Stiyl grinned sardonically, disappearing into the dark night escorting Index. Index wanted to stay with Kamijou, but he waved his arms and refused. He waited until he could no longer see them, then turned right around. Right around—to return straight along the road he’d come. “That asshole. Did he know…?” said Kamijou to himself, annoyed. My wallet’s still in the dorm, after all. Wouldn’t be able to do much in a convenience store. As he walked, he took out his cell phone from his pants pocket. Its white backlight cast a dim light on his face. He pressed a few buttons and, using his GPS service, started searching around on a map. He wasn’t, of course, looking for a nearby store. Touma Kamijou remembered Agnes Sanctis’s words. “It is our privilege to outnumber all. We have comrades in 110 countries around the world, after all. There are many churches even in Japan. In fact, a new house of the lord is being constructed as we speak—the Church of Orsola. I think it was somewhere around here, actually. Right nearby. I think they were bragging that when it was finished, it would be the largest church in Japan. It was supposedly as big as a baseball stadium.” Academy City’s GPS was extremely accurate and updated frequently. There were even rumors it was precise enough to be used for military purposes. It displayed the newest buildings, of course, but also every single planned construction. In contrast, that meant that places like the Hakumeiza site were quickly erased from the map. Of course, the names of planned buildings weren’t listed on GPS maps—all it said was “planned site.” But he could tell just by looking at the picture. He could only find one planned construction site giant enough to rival a baseball stadium. “Yes. She has quite a record, you know. She has spread the teachings of God to three heretic nations, earning her the special privilege to have a church built in her name. She was very good at speaking, wasn’t she?” He quickened his pace as he looked at his cell phone screen. Just as she said, the Church of Orsola—the base of the Roman Orthodox Church—was in this town. Moving around with lots of people was a weakness of group action. If they wanted to lessen the risk at all, making the Church of Orsola—which was right around the corner—into a fortress would be logical. And they’d use magic Kamijou didn’t know of, whether the building was under construction or not. The Roman Orthodox members had to be there. Including Agnes Sanctis—and Orsola Aquinas. “Once the church is finished, we’ll send you some invitations. But before that, we should settle the issue at hand. Let’s pray for a splendid conclusion with a good aftertaste.” He recalled Agnes’s joke and chuckled. “They haven’t even finished getting ready for the party or addressing the invitations…but let’s go crash it anyway.” With his destination clearly in mind, he didn’t need to stand around. He began moving even faster—and when he next realized it, he was dashing along the night roads. He didn’t have any reason to fight. He didn’t have to fight to know that someone else would settle everything by themselves. Just because there was a burning building in front of him with a young child trapped inside didn’t mean there was a rule saying Kamijou had to jump in there—that’s what Index had said. Asking someone else for help and leaving it to them wasn’t a bad thing, she said. But still… If that child in that burning house was waiting this whole time for Kamijou to come save her, then what? The wisest choice, obviously, would be to get in touch with the fire department as soon as possible. But Kamijou didn’t want to show his back to that child even by accident. Even if that was the safest and easiest choice for him to make, he didn’t want to betray that faith. Did Orsola Aquinas still have faith in Touma Kamijou? Despite all the foolish choices he’d made, did she still trust him like a child would? Fortunately for him, he had no connections with any specific organizations like the English Puritans or Roman Orthodox. He was never anything more than a student and an amateur, so nothing bound him. He couldn’t ask for the help of professionals like Index or Stiyl, but there was instead something only an amateur could do. His one misgiving was that he could be seen as a member of the science faction of Academy City, but if things really got dangerous, said organization would probably just expel him, erase him from the register, and treat him as though he had never been a part of it. But Kamijou didn’t care about that. In fact, he had to laugh at himself for feeling like he wanted to choose this path. Without a reason to fight, the boy ran through the night. In reality, there wasn’t a single reason he had to make himself fight… …but he had a reason he wanted to fight, all the same. 4 Despite it being called the Church of Orsola, you couldn’t call the building a church yet. It was about as big as four or five average school gymnasiums put together. Once it was finished, it would be a genuine cathedral, the likes of which had never been seen before in Japan. And placing it a stone’s throw away from Academy City also implied a diversion against the science faction. But right now, the construction site’s size was all it had going for it—inside, it bore nothing but a sense of desolation. The outer walls of the church had just been finished, but there were metal scaffolds and ladders left alone nearby. As for its interior design, nothing had been done yet—it actually looked like a barbaric band of mercenaries had taken over the place. The windows were gaping open, stained glass planned to be fitted into them. In the planned location for the giant pipe organ, too, only an unnatural space lurked. The marble flooring and walls shined, brand-new, but on the other hand, on the wall behind the pulpit, there was a big cross standing up casually against the wall, originally planned to be hung on it. But those things couldn’t create such an eerie environment on their own. Inside the cathedral, without any man-made lights, lit up only by the faint moonlight shining through the black holes without any glass, hundreds of sisters all wearing black, as if drenched in darkness, stood silently. They formed a ring surrounding something—and that ring was many layers thick. In their hands were obvious weapons like swords and spears, as well as religious ritual instruments such as giant cogwheels and claws. They all sparkled when the faint moonlight struck them. There were no other people there. The captured Amakusa members were on the same site, but in a different location, bound and under guard by about ten people. The sisters’ attention was not directed outside the building. Their eyes were focused on the circular space inside their ring. They heard a punch. They heard a stifled scream. “Come on, don’t make things difficult, yes? Unfortunately, everyone here is quite busy, myself included. We don’t have time to go along with your little games. Just accept the death penalty already, will ya—hey, are you listening to me? I asked if you’re fucking listening to me! Answer me” The thud of heavy fabric being kicked. And with it, an otherworldly scream cut through the dark. “Hah That’s a nice scream you got there. Don’t you think it’s disgraceful? Like you’ve abandoned your womanhood? Ah, shit, looks like we’ll have to rename this church, won’t we? Naming it after a pig or an ass would be simply laughable!” Orsola Aquinas didn’t answer. She was on the floor, beaten to a pulp. Her clothing was torn, as though she’d been dragged around while tied to a horse. Its fasteners were broken as well, and large pieces of fabric had been ripped off. Agnes and the others weren’t using any special magic to make Orsola suffer. They were simply kicking her in the limbs and the gut—and, given enough blows, it would create intense pain. Violence performed by more than two hundred people, even going easy on her, had still driven Orsola to the brink of death. After all, even if each person struck her once, that was two hundred strikes. It was the same as water dripping from the roof creating a hole. Orsola’s limbs, sprawled out on the floor, showed no sign of any movement. Orsola’s leg, sprawled out on the floor and unmoving—Agnes stepped on it casually. Her thick soles applied pressure like a vise. She yelped. “I mean, it’s not like I don’t understand why you’d run away. I know your fate—and you might be happier dying here. Inquisitions, attended by all the cardinals…Do you know what they’re like? Ah-ha-ha! They might try to be way serious, but they’re monsters. With that, it still can’t match where it came from—England. If you want my opinion, ours are like playing pretend compared to theirs, you know. Hah, ha-ha! That old man still can’t stop playing house—what a wonderful fate you have, to be pulled along by them and die! Isn’t it?!” “—?!” Because of the intense, grinding pain in her leg, Orsola couldn’t manage a proper answer. She also felt like if she opened her mouth carelessly, she would bite her own tongue. Why did things come to this? thought Orsola hazily. The Book of the Law’s original copy was a hindrance and an evil to all. Everyone wanted to burn it. It led all who acquired it to a ruinous end—it was literally li libro di un modo pericoloso. But human hands could not dispose of the original. They could only take temporary measures, locking it tight with a seal. Orsola Aquinas wanted to do something about that. Both she and the Roman Orthodox Church must have had the same feelings regarding wanting to erase the infamous Book of the Law. So then why? What changed to part their paths so definitively? Right up until the very end, she thought she could see salvation. Why did that boy hand me over to Agnes? “Still, it looks like you’ve got a lot less friends to rely on now, eh? To think you’d come here looking for help from Amakusa, of all people!” Agnes Sanctis looked down at Orsola. Her expression looked like it was enchanted by a suspicious grimoire as thud, thud, she kicked Orsola’s calves. The storm of pain resounded in her bones and threatened to tear her mind apart. “Driven to the brink of death, you finally clung to a bunch of Asians you didn’t know in some filthy island nation. Ah-ha-ha-ha! You mustn’t do that, you know. You can’t hope for anything from piglets who don’t even read scripture. Under our rules, marrying someone outside of a baptized Roman Orthodox is equivalent to sodomy—you know that. Did you think it would be fine just as long as they were still Crossists? Amakusa, the puritans of England—it’s ridiculous they’d even call themselves Crossists. They are not human. They are pigs and asses. Look where trusting your precious life to people like them got you. Jeez, tricking beasts like them really is too easy. Just tame them a little, and they’ll bring rats back to you in their mouths!” “…Tr…tricked?” Orsola’s awareness, hazy with pain until then, slowly turned back outward. “Those people…Did you…Did you trick…them…?” The sticky blood falling from her torn lips hindered her speech. But that didn’t stop her from asking. “They weren’t…co…cooperating…with you…You tricked…them…?” “What does it matter? Whichever it was, we got our hands on you, didn’t we? Heh-heh, a-ha-ha Man, it was great! Comedy gold! They were all like, ‘We’ll rescue Orsola Aquinas from the evil Amakusa for sure’ How moronic, right?! They delivered someone they should’ve been protecting straight into the hands of their enemy! They’re hopeless, that’s what they are” “…” Is that so? thought Orsola, her face losing a little bit of its tension. They hadn’t intended to sell her out to the Roman Orthodox Church—that wasn’t it at all. Their smiles, their words—none of them had been a lie. They earnestly worried about her and came all the way to such a dangerous battlefield just to rescue her. Even though it had ended in failure… Even though their efforts were for naught, and her life was threatened instead… They stayed her allies until the very end. They never once betrayed her, forsook her. They had fought for her until the last moment—those kind, reliable allies. “The hell are you smiling for?” “I…see. I…am smiling…am I?” said Orsola in a slow, gentle voice. “I seem…to have realized it. Realized the true colors…of our Roman Orthodox Church…” “Eh?” “Those people…They act on faith…They believe in others, believe in their feelings, and would follow them anywhere…for others. And yet we…How ugly we are. We…can only act…on doubt. You fooled those helping you, to execute me…You’ll fool the people with a fixed trial…and even fool yourself into thinking it’s what God wishes you to do…” “—” “Although…I’m not in a position to argue with it…either. If I had but trusted Amakusa…from the start…things wouldn’t have gotten this bad. If I had fled with them by their plan…then those in Amakusa wouldn’t have faced danger, either…In the end, this unsightly form of ours…Is this what the Roman Orthodox Church…really is?” Orsola smiled. With her beaten-up face, and without a hint of humor. “…I can no longer…escape from your clutches. And just as you planned…I will be judged a false sinner…and be buried in the dark. But I am fine with that now…—For I cannot lie to myself…! And what’s more…I absolutely, absolutely cannot…trick those who lent me their strength without expecting anything in return, can I? Never again…do I want to be called the same kind of person as you…” “The words of a martyr. You expect to be canonized or something?” Whap—with the lightness of kicking an empty can, Agnes’s sole came down on Orsola’s leg. “If you want to die that badly, then be my guest. It’ll be easier for us if you don’t resist, after all. Curse those fools for causing this to happen to you as much as you please, and then die!” Although Agnes would have known there was no way for her to resist. More than two hundred sisters surrounded her, waiting. And there was a strong barrier put up around the church, so she definitely couldn’t make a run for it. Her consciousness wavering, even Agnes’s words, spoken right next to her ears, only came in bits and pieces. But Orsola still managed to think with her near-disabled mind. “What…on earth…should I curse?” “Wh…what?” “They never…had a reason to fight. I asked him, and he said he wasn’t a Roman Orthodox…or an English Puritan…He was just a boy. And yet, without any power or reason, he came running to me, a complete stranger…See? Where else in the world…could you find a more attractive gift than that…? Those people…they gave me such a beautiful gift…so what are you saying I should curse about them?” Yes—she wouldn’t curse them. She would never curse them. Even if they hadn’t rescued Orsola safely, what they did couldn’t be condemned. Because they had no duty telling them they needed to rescue her. They weren’t fighting just because someone told them to. They flung themselves into battle, not bothering to use their “rights” to save her. Just fighting for her, just standing up for her, was worthy of much gratitude. So Orsola would never curse them. She felt proud to have been blessed with the chance to meet people who would do so much for a total stranger. She wanted to thank God for making her lucky enough to be with them at the end. She was satisfied. That was enough. Orsola Aquinas thought she would never again embrace such happiness with her hands… …and yet that happiness hadn’t ended. For the next moment… Smash came a sound as the barrier around the church was destroyed. Agnes reflexively took her eyes away from Orsola. Something had happened that forced her to do so. “It…broke…? Could it be…? Hey! Someone check on the Protection of Giles we put on that door! And scout for enemies! Shit, what group could this be? No one person could have possibly broken a barrier of that level. What enemy faction could be attacking us…?!” Commands, issued in rapid succession. But before any of them could be carried out, she got the answer she wanted. “Ah…” Orsola Aquinas looked. The oaken double doors at the entrance to the church were thrown open. And there someone stood, like a rough storybook scene where the prince comes to save his princess. The one standing there was just a boy. It was an ordinary young man—and yet he neither fled nor ran. Who was he here for? What was he here for? The two-hundred-strong sisters surrounding Orsola turned their harsh glares on the boy but didn’t make a sound. There were already hundreds of people to cause violence against him, and none of them was normal, either. He had to have felt fear. There was no way he didn’t. He was no more than an utterly average young man—so he must have been scared. And yet. And yet, without hesitation, he took a step. A step into the church veiled in darkness, in order to save Orsola Aquinas. He took the step…for her. As if to declare that everything would be all right. 5 Touma Kamijou set foot into the huge, unfinished church. It was a terrible place. Hundreds of people were gathered here with no air conditioner on this sultry night—it may have been huge, but it felt like a secret room, wrapped in a strange heat. The thick smell of sweat drifted from the darkness, giving it the impression of a deep, giant nesting hole. Hundreds of sisters dressed in black, blending with the darkness, eddying about. He saw one girl on the floor in the middle of them, and his eyes narrowed without a sound. Then he heard a derisive laugh that seemed to know what he was feeling. He looked toward its source to see Agnes Sanctis for what seemed like the first time. “You know, I did think it was quite strange.” She giggled and broke into a smile. “Why did some total amateur like you, not even a sorcerer, get brought out to the battlefield as a guest?…I don’t know what logic went into that one, but I suppose you must hold some absolute power over barriers.” “…” “Oh my, what’s the matter? Did you lose something? Did you want a reward? Oh, well, if you’re still attached to that thing over there, I can strip her bare for you if you want.” Her voice was tinged with irritation and enthusiasm. It was a joy not unlike having drunk bad alcohol. “Just one question. You’re not gonna lie anymore, are you?” “Lie? About what?! Can’t you tell what’s happening here? Who is the greater, and who is the lesser? You can’t possibly be stupid enough to think you can stand on the same stage as me, do you? Now, I want to hear your choice from you—what will you do when faced with this many people?” Just one versus more than two hundred certainly didn’t present very good odds. If Kamijou fought them all head-on, he stood no chance. Agnes knew that, too. She casually walked right up to him, without any caution, as if to provoke him. She thought that Kamijou could never strike her. If he threw even one punch, that punch would mark the beginning of a hopeless battle. “Sheesh. You’re an idiot—and a big one, at that. I thought the English Puritans made the wise choice and ran home—but what about you? Hmm. Well, whatever. You can’t do anything by yourself, so if you want to run away, I’ll let you do so. See? I’m giving you one last chance. You know exactly what you need to do, don’t you?” Kamijou smiled feebly at Agnes Sanctis’s relaxed words. “My last chance…I know exactly what I need to do, huh?” And then, in a voice that sounded somehow relieved, he replied: “You’re right. This is my last chance, that’s for sure. I completely understand.” Wham Kamijou’s right fist tore through the air. Agnes immediately crossed her arms to defend her face, but her legs came off the floor. Her entire body flung away despite her guard, and she glared at Kamijou with eyes like a mad dog. Not even one second of hesitation. Without even showing a moment of indecision, the young man showed his preparation to the enemy before him. “You…little…What the fuck are you doing?!” Agnes Sanctis yelled angrily, but Touma Kamijou replied with an even louder roar. “What I need to do! Don’t take me so lightly! I’m here to save her! Why the hell else would I be here?!” Their emotions clashed against each other at close range. Though they were both, in a word, “heated,” their properties and temperature were entirely different. Her cheek muscles trembled oddly and she began muttering to herself. The sisters in black, who had been standing idly until now, all turned to face Touma Kamijou. The hundreds of weapons they held made an eerie, mechanical sound, like soldiers marching forward. “You…That’s…pretty…funny.” Agnes’s voice and body both trembled. “There are two hundred of us. How much can you do alone in this situation?! Come on, then, show me! Ha-ha—with the number difference, I think you’ll be mincemeat in less than a minute, though!” The sisters in black all readied their weapons at her assertion. Meanwhile, Touma Kamijou had no weapons—only his own tightly clenched fist. Just before the two sides clashed… …suddenly, they heard a voice. “Give me a break. Don’t start without me. You managed to slip right through the barrier. You could have at least given me enough time to set up the runes we need.” “Eh…?” The very moment Agnes turned around with a dumbfounded look, there was a roar of flames sucking in oxygen—and with it, the orange explosion instantly dissolved the darkness dominating the incomplete church. In the back of the church, exactly opposite where Kamijou stood— There was a big hole in one of the windows on the wall behind the pulpit, about two stories up, waiting for stained glass to be fitted inside. He’d probably used the scaffolding on the outer wall to get there. Standing in the window frame was an English Puritan priest, with a flame sword in his hand. “…S…Stiyl?” In a daze, Touma Kamijou whispered the name of the priest with the cigarette in the corner of his mouth. “We sorcerers were all ready to finish things up, so we’d planned to have the amateur retire. All those fake explanations and fake persuasions—for nothing.” Agnes spoke before Kamijou could. “English…Puritans? Absurd…This is solely a Roman Orthodox issue! If you interfere, they’ll see it as meddling in our internal affairs! Don’t you know that?!” “Yeah, well…Unfortunately, that doesn’t apply here.” Stiyl blew out some smoke, annoyed. “Take a look at Orsola Aquinas’s chest. See that English Puritan cross hanging on her neck? Yeah—the very same cross our amateur accidentally gave her.” He grinned teasingly. “Placing that around someone’s neck places them under the protection of the English Puritan Church—which means she has been baptized and is now one of us. Our archbishop prepared that cross personally. And she ordered me to hang it around Orsola’s neck myself…It was low on the priority list, so I had left it for later and given it to that man over there. I figured it would be a bit of insurance, to make you think the amateur was under English Puritanism’s umbrella should you have captured him…but somehow or another, it ended up on Orsola, just as planned. That means Orsola Aquinas is not a member of the Roman Orthodox Church—but one of the puritans of England.” “I get it. So that’s why…” Kamijou absently thought back. When he casually said he’d give her the cross, Orsola seemed extremely happy… So this is what it really meant. Agnes’s face grew bright red. After moving her mouth up and down a few times, she said, “Y-you think such sophistry will work?” “No, I don’t. It’s not as though it was performed according to English Puritan ceremony, by an English Puritan priest, in an English Puritan church.” Stiyl wiggled his cigarette. “But that doesn’t mean Orsola isn’t in a very delicate position right now, does it? A Roman Orthodox disciple received an English Puritan cross—plus, someone from Academy City, in the science faction, gave it to her. I think we should take some time now to deliberate on what faction she is technically a part of right now. If you put her to trial as just a Roman Orthodox, then the English Puritan Church won’t sit idly by.” Tap. Stiyl jumped from the window and quietly landed in front of the pulpit. He pointed the tip of his flame sword at the distant Agnes’s face. “And above all—you were nice enough to point your blades at her.” Stiyl bared his teeth. “Did you think I was that naïve? That I was kind enough to let that slip?” “Damn! Just because there’s one more of you now doesn’t mean—?!” she began to shout hatefully, but once again, someone else’s voice interrupted. “Man, hope you’re not thinking you’ll get away with just two!” “?!” As Agnes turned to face the audacious male voice, this time, the wall to her side blasted apart and crumbled. From the dense clouds of dust walked a tall man with a large sword. “Tatemiya…” Kamijou voiced the name of the tall man holding the pure white flamberge of unknown composition. Saiji Tatemiya. The vicar—representative—pope of the diversified religious fusion of Crossism, the Amakusa-Style Crossist Church. And behind him were gathered the members of Amakusa, who should have been confined in a separate building. They numbered about fifty—it was probably everyone who had been locked up. “No need to ask me why I’m fighting here, is there?” Surprised, Kamijou said, “Y-you…But you said it would be best to hit them while they were on the move…” “Because I thought you’d give up and go home if I said that. I talked it over with the English Puritans and we tried to set things up so that we’d finish things before you made a move. You’re an even bigger idiot than I thought. But you’re fun to watch, so I can’t really hate ya,” answered Tatemiya, amazed. And last of all, with a click clack of footsteps, the familiar voice of a girl in white came to him from behind. “That’s why I told you not to worry, Touma—someone else would settle things!” “In…dex…” Pat—a small, yet reassuring hand was placed on his astounded shoulder. “But we can’t help it now that it’s come to this, I guess!—Let’s save her, Touma. Let’s save Orsola Aquinas with our own hands!” Yeah, nodded Kamijou. Agnes Sanctis, watching the whole thing, exploded. With a single order—kill them!—the hundreds of sisters in the dark leaped at them to attack. The final battle had begun—the final battle of those gathered to settle the score of this ridiculous story. INTERLUDE TWO In the middle of the night, Kaori Kanzaki stood on the roof of a building. The landscape before her eyes portrayed the under-construction Church of Orsola. Its impression was far from that of a church—not a speck of silence, filled with the sounds of violence and breaking. She was standing far away from the church, but her keen ears could hear what they said. They heard the words of those who stood up for a single girl. Kanzaki never planned on taking Amakusa’s side or killing the enemy Roman Orthodox from the beginning. She had not absconded right after the incident so that she could exercise violence. She just wanted to make her true intentions known. She wanted Amakusa to know that even without her, they would still be Amakusa, and nothing would change. And they had just shown that, just as she’d believed they would. She narrowed her eyes in a gentle, natural smile, as though gazing at an object of nostalgia. A place she could never go home to again. But now she would be able to treasure that place in her heart, forever and ever. From behind her, she heard unconcealed footsteps. “Nyaha! I see you’re feeling totally grateful and moved, there, Zaky. Ain’t it a sight? Your old friends didn’t kidnap Orsola so they could use the Book of the Law for their own greed after all!” “Tsuchimikado…” Kanzaki hastily erased her expression and turned around—but she couldn’t seem to accomplish that when she saw Tsuchimikado’s broad grin. She spoke in a strict tone to hide her abashment. “Are you finished on your end? You were talking about snatching up the Book of the Law’s original copy using this opportunity…” “Hmm, who knows? Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.” “…” “I’m kidding. Don’t look at me like that! You basically know what’s goin’ on, right? Amakusa didn’t steal the book. It was all the Roman Orthodox Church tryin’ to frame ’em. That means they didn’t need to bring the thing into Japan in the first place, yeah? The one they brought here was a forgery. The real thing is deep, deep in the Vatican Library as we speak.” Tsuchimikado was reporting on his failure, but his voice was awfully bright. Maybe he didn’t have much passion for his work—or perhaps he had lied, and he actually managed to steal the Book of the Law. Kanzaki didn’t quite know what to make of it. He walked up next to her. He placed both hands on the metal railing to prevent falling, and as he quietly gazed at where Kanzaki was looking, asked, “So, you satisfied?” “…Yes. More so than I thought.” Kanzaki looked at the church again. “They’ll be able to keep Amakusa on the correct path without me. They’ve become very strong.” “Mm, yes. They’re probably having a hard time, though—not gonna help ’em?” “I do not have the right to stand before them. And they no longer need my strength. I was as training wheels on a bicycle,” said Kanzaki, sounding a little lonely but proud. She hadn’t hesitated even a moment to give her answer. Tsuchimikado suppressed a grin at her seriousness. “What is it, Tsuchimikado?” “I mean, nothin’ much…It don’t matter, but ya probably didn’t expect Kammy to get involved in this, did ya? You still haven’t thanked him for the Angel Fall business and the Index struggle, either. Now you’ve gotten him mixed up in another one of your problems—you’re totally afraid of having to make it up to him, aren’t ya, nya?” “N-not at all. Nothing you are imagining is going to happen!” Kanzaki replied with a very serious look, but for some reason, Tsuchimikado burst out laughing. He laughed so hard and so loudly that it brought tears to his eyes and he started to worry it would reach the Church of Orsola below. “By the way! What could those bandages in your hands be, hmm? You weren’t gonna sneak up on your unconscious friends and do secret first aid on ’em, were ya? And then after you were done, stroke their heads softly with a hand, smile a little, and quietly retreat? Pfft, ku-ku! Man, Zaky, you’re so simple and cliché, you! I can’t believe you were thinking of something so embarrassing with a straight face!” “?!” “Hm? What’s up, Zaky? Your temples are all pulsing and…Hey, wait, wait stop stop stop! I’m unarmed! You can’t seriously use the Seven Heavens, Seven Blades on me! Does this mean you’re gonna bandage me up first, nyaaaa?!” Word Count: (8625)