A Certain Magical Index, Vol. 14

by Kazuma Kamachi

  That was all it took to blow the flour blade to smithereens.

  Terra tried to retreat, but Kamijou stepped forward before that.

  He was within firing range of his fist now.

  “This result is absolute nonsense…The Imagine Breaker should only work in your right hand. What happened? Could this heretic monk have possibly already…that power—?!”

  “It’s nothing like that,” said Kamijou, clenching his right fist tightly. “This didn’t have anything to do with that.”

  “Then—?!” Terra tried to shout, but Kamijou moved first.

  He aimed straight at Terra of the Left’s face, colored by shock as it was.

  “Think I’ll answer you?”

  A dull whump!! rang out.

  This time, Terra’s body hit the floor.

  8

  “Urgh…” Kamijou held his stinging belly, strengthened his wobbling legs, and managed to prop himself upright. The guillotine hadn’t torn his abdomen, but there was a nice bruise there expanding to quite a range.

  I’m saved…somehow.

  As he looked at the anti-bulkhead shotgun, twisted from the impact, and Itsuwa’s spear nearby, he breathed a sigh of relief. The last flour guillotine Terra had thrown out…The attack aimed at him should have, of course, been loaded with the spell saying “prioritize the guillotine’s strength over Kamijou’s body.” If it had landed directly, it probably would have easily torn through his gut.

  But Kamijou was alive—thanks to the powered suit’s anti-bulkhead shotgun, which he’d kicked upright at the last second.

  Terra’s prioritization was strong, certainly, but the priority could only apply to one type of item. To change the priority from one item to another, he had to reset the conditions every time.

  In other words, in a state where the guillotine’s strength was prioritized over Kamijou’s body, it wouldn’t particularly affect anything besides his body. If you stuck a different object between Kamijou’s body and the guillotine, the guillotine would stop. Things like air or wallets were soft to begin with, so they wouldn’t do much, but the shotgun was made of metal.

  The guillotine’s natural power wouldn’t let it rupture internal organs, even with a direct hit. Using something with decent hardness as a shield made it easy to block the attack.

  The bottleneck was that he didn’t know how far the spell would apply the prioritization to his body…but leaving his clothing and his possessions aside, it didn’t seem to treat other people’s possessions—the powered suit’s anti-bulkhead shotgun—as part of his body.

  Even Itsuwa’s spear, which he’d kicked at Terra right before that, was someone else’s possession, like the shotgun. That was why Terra couldn’t cleave both the spear and Kamijou’s body in two at once. If Kamijou normally carried around a spear, though, it would have been treated as his.

  That spear had been how Kamijou realized Terra’s weakness. Without it, Kamijou’s body would be in two pieces right now.

  “…” He gazed down at Terra, lying on the floor.

  All that flour, unable to maintain its shape as a blade, was scattered around him.

  One way or another, it’s over…Is Itsuwa okay? And Tsuchimikado…He could still be fighting the powered suits…Kamijou looked at the white grains slowly blowing away on the wind, having lost their magical efficacy.

  As he endured the pain, he still breathed a sigh of relief.

  He looked at Terra again.

  A cylindrical item had rolled out of Terra’s clothing and onto the floor. It was a rolled-up piece of old parchment, the Document of Constantine—a powerful Soul Arm.

  Kamijou stooped down and grabbed it up with his right hand.

  Actually, it crumbled before he grasped it.

  As soon as Kamijou’s fingertips touched the document, the parchment tore apart like ashes tapped away from a cigarette. As it crumbled into powder, a gentle breeze swept it away to who knew where.

  It was all so very quick.

  Enough to make the ruckus up until now feel empty.

  Kamijou diverted his attention from the lost Document of Constantine and began to think about the enemy he’d been fighting until now.

  …Terra, huh?

  He looked down at the unconscious man lying there.

  This wasn’t Academy City. He couldn’t leave their fight’s cleanup to Anti-Skill. He couldn’t let his guard down until he was certain he’d restrained Terra and taken him to where he needed to go.

  Come to think of it, I wonder if Tsuchimikado’s doing all right. I should contact him and talk it over with the Puritans for now. Partly because I get the feeling Academy City doesn’t have much influence here…

  The powered suits that had assaulted Avignon were Academy City–made, but strangely, Kamijou didn’t consider discussing this with them. Maybe their first impression had been too terrible for him.

  He looked around.

  Itsuwa was lying a short distance away.

  He approached, then grabbed her delicate shoulders and gently shook her, but she showed no signs of waking. Regular breathing was coming from her lips, though, and her chest was rising and falling slightly.

  “Oh, right. Her spear…”

  Kamijou went to pick up the spear he’d kicked away, then returned to Itsuwa’s side.

  He gently placed the dangerous-looking blade right next to her.

  “Thanks, Itsuwa. If you hadn’t been here, I don’t think I could have won,” he said quietly to the girl with her eyes shut.

  Terra had taken her out, so she hadn’t heard those things he and Kamijou had talked about regarding his amnesia…probably. But he wasn’t happy about it. She’d helped him and fought beside him without knowing any of that, after all.

  “…”

  Only bitter things were in his heart.

  But for now, Kamijou shook it off. Anyway, let’s talk to Tsuchimikado…

  He thought about calling him on his cell phone, but despite looking in his pocket, it wasn’t there. He looked around and saw what seemed to be it lying on the floor a few steps away.

  But when he picked it up, the LCD was too far gone to see anything, and he couldn’t close it, either; some part was probably blocking it.

  “Damn,” he muttered, before hearing a rustling behind him.

  “!!”

  He wheeled on his heel, but Terra was still lying on the floor. However, his arm was in a slightly different position. He must have tried to get up but didn’t have the strength.

  “Ha-ha. I see. Yes, the Imagine Breaker has terrible compatibility with us. It cancels out everything, as though rejecting all the hard work we’ve put in,” he said, lips moving slowly as he lay on the floor and glared resentfully at Kamijou. “…Will you not ask?”

  “Ask what?”

  “About the Imagine Breaker.”

  The words took him by surprise, and Kamijou paused for a moment.

  The Imagine Breaker.

  He’d been using it like it was nothing this whole time, never having any real doubts about the power. But Terra had said he knew something about it; did that mean it wasn’t of the science side but of the sorcery side? But Index, who had 103,000 grimoires memorized, didn’t appear to know what it really was.

  He thought for a moment. “Do you know?”

  “Keh-heh,” sneered Terra of the Left cruelly. “Asking me for confirmation…It would seem you really have lost your memory.”

  “…”

  “Heh-heh. You should give some thought as to why the Imagine Breaker is within your right hand. Therein lies an important answer. Still, its effect of nullifying any sorcery without question has meaning as well…”

  Terra watched Kamijou wonder, then smiled, amused.

  Then he spoke:

  “It’s a simple matter.”

  The slight sigh Terra gave rang awfully loud in Kamijou’s ears.

  Slowly, the man’s lips moved.

  “The Imagine Breaker is actually—”

  Kam
ijou couldn’t make out the next words.

  Because with a massive boom!!…

  …Terra’s body suddenly exploded.

  Actually, strictly speaking, Kamijou hadn’t seen the moment itself.

  An orange flash of light had plunged through the ceiling and fallen right on top of the man. As soon as the three-meter-wide pillar of light pierced the floor, an incredible wind blasted through the room in the Papal Palace.

  Kamijou’s feet were instantly peeled from the floor, and he was blown several meters backward like a ball of dust. Itsuwa and the powered suit, lying in other places, took the blast in the same fashion and rolled toward him.

  “Gwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh?!”

  Kamijou screamed as he was slammed into the floor.

  Apart from that overall injury, he felt a thin, stinging pain shoot up his arm. It felt like the day after getting sunburned. He looked and saw that the skin had reddened. It was burned.

  Wh-what…?

  He shook his hazy head and looked over to where the blast had hit.

  Then his body went rigid.

  The place Terra had been lying just a moment ago had already changed to a vortex of molten rock. Over several meters, the floor made of stone had changed into a muddy swamp shining orange, and from the ceiling with a big hole in it as well, the same kind of thing was dripping. He heard the sizzling sound of water evaporating. Simply trying to get near, a hot blast like an invisible wall clung to his skin.

  He looked around and spotted something out the window.

  Circling slowly, as though creating black smudges against the blue sky—multiple bombers.

  Instead of their bulkheads for dropping bombs, they had jet-black metal blades. He didn’t know what had happened, but it was clear they’d carried out some sort of attack.

  “Terra…”

  Still unable to get very close to the wall of heat, Kamijou called the name of the man who had been his enemy.

  The steel wings dancing in the skies once again set their sights on this place.

  The bombers, which had used a sufficient approach distance to accelerate, darted through the air at incredible speeds.

  “Terraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!”

  His scream was drowned out.

  Several pillars of light flashed down through the ceiling, again pinpointing the exact spot Terra had been.

  Their precision might have been closer to sniping than bombing. The orange light blocked out his vision. Taking some kind of aftershock, Kamijou’s body bounded over the floor again and again.

  That was when he passed out.

  But even if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have found Terra again.

  From the section in front of the fallen Kamijou, the walls and ceiling had disappeared, all replaced by a sea of lava. A third of the Papal Palace had been lost.

  …And Terra of the Left had vanished, leaving not even a corpse behind.

  EPILOGUE

  That Answer Leads to the Next Mystery Question.

  The impact woke Itsuwa up.

  She was in the Papal Palace. Right before she’d lost consciousness, she’d fallen into the middle of the floor…or so she’d thought, but when she awoke, she had rolled near a wall. The spear she’d been using was close by, as well.

  Her whole body felt sluggish and hard to move, probably because the damage remained.

  With slow movements, she took her spear.

  Itsuwa thought to herself that her body felt flushed. A moment later, she realized why.

  In front of her.

  The stone walls, floor, and ceiling some ten meters ahead were melted by high heat, having changed into an orange plasma. She heard a sizzling sound, like from water dripping onto an iron; most of her view was blocked by whitish steam.

  “What…what happened…?”

  She observed her surroundings.

  A short distance away lay the unmoving powered suit. Near it, the Imagine Breaker boy was lying faceup. He didn’t seem to be conscious. She approached and saw redness on his skin. He was more than flushed—he seemed to have light burns.

  This degree probably wouldn’t leave scars, but it would be nice if she had some ice. Of course, she didn’t carry such a thing with her, and ice-related sorcery wasn’t her specialty. Itsuwa fished around in her pocket, took out a hand towel, and gently pressed it to Kamijou’s arms. She sighed in relief—his wounds seemed to be shallow.

  What about Terra of the Left…? thought Itsuwa idly as she did first aid. And the document…Did Terra cause this disaster? This doesn’t seem like the type of thing he’s been doing until now…

  Had they won, or had they lost?

  She couldn’t even tell that much.

  From a cursory glance, the Imagine Breaker’s wounds were shallow. For now, it was best to wait until he woke up and have him explain the situation. And if need be, chase down Terra, even this very moment.

  “…”

  She hadn’t been involved in the fight with Terra the whole way through. She’d passed out in the middle, pushing the rest onto this amateur of a boy.

  Itsuwa quietly clenched her teeth at her powerlessness. I have to do something…

  But crisis situations never give people the time.

  “Tsk. This is turning out to be a big pain in the ass.”

  Suddenly, she heard a voice that made tension shoot through her body.

  Its quality itself was ominous, but what surprised her most was the direction it came from.

  Readying her spear, eyes wide in disbelief, she turned to look.

  Ahead of her.

  To the passage turned into goopy molten lava from high heat.

  That was the direction she thought she’d heard the voice from.

  She couldn’t make out the person’s features because of the shroud of steam. But she could tell just from the sight of his silhouette that he was standing there in a completely natural pose.

  Despite being stopped in the middle of the thousand-degree lava.

  …In the midst of all the steam, which must have been over a hundred degrees by itself.

  “Guess you gotta think about stuff being too strong, eh? ’Sides, why’d you point those earth-cutting blades at a person? Would’ve been more helpful to check for a corpse. Well, the riots calmed right down around the time you did the cutting, so at least our minimum objective is complete now…”

  The person wasn’t paying any attention to her.

  He wasn’t even looking at her.

  His words were not for Itsuwa. He was probably using a radio or cell phone, talking to someone far away.

  And Itsuwa thought that was fine.

  She could feel a strange sweat bursting from the hands on her spear.

  She didn’t know the reason. But the person standing in the middle of that molten rock was extraordinary. How she could fight against him, what miracle would let her win—he was more than a little bit past that stage. If she had to compare, it felt only like swinging a delicate spear at a giant ball of iron.

  He spoke.

  Without even seeing the blade-holding Itsuwa.

  “Sure, I’ll inspect the place for a corpse and everything, but if I don’t find anything in ten minutes, I’m coming back. Later, once things cool off here, you guys can do your searching for loose hairs and bloodstains and all that DNA analysis or whatever. Eh? Recover the disabled powered suit? I ain’t here to do chores. Make your guys do it. There’s gotta be a group or agency or something here in France that’s on Academy City’s side.”

  That was where the conversation ended.

  Was his talk with the distant person over?

  “…”

  Like an herbivore hidden in the foliage to wait out a savage beast, Itsuwa held her breath.

  Her opponent didn’t give one look to her.

  Immeasurable.

  Itsuwa ignored her trembling hands as they gripped her spear and then turned her back to the figure. He seemed to want to head deeper into the Papal Pal
ace; she watched him disappear farther down the trail of molten rock.

  She didn’t follow him.

  She couldn’t even speak to him.

  Even after the unknown figure vanished, Itsuwa was too nervous to move for a while.

  In an interrogation room in the Tower of London, Stiyl Magnus and Agnes Sanctis were listening to what Lidvia Lorenzetti had to say. Biagio Busoni, also present, seemed intent on acting uncooperatively throughout and never opened his mouth to say anything.

  “In Crossism, God never appeared after the Son of God’s death,” said Lidvia, her voice echoing through the confined interrogation room. “In exchange, his angels, acting as his hands and feet, appear before humans with considerable frequency. Still, added to the story of a great war between angels and demons, a certain theologian felt the need to categorize them into nine groups, but they may simply be great in number.”

  “What’s that have to do with this?” prompted Stiyl.

  Lidvia continued, without so much as a nod. “What I mean is that God’s Right Seat is a pragmatic organization. Does a god who doesn’t appear before man truly exist? Might not God be taking the form of angels to secretly contact humans? Those who think that, chasing the shadow of whatever it is pretending to be the angels, are God’s Right Seat.”

  In other legends besides Crossist ones, it was not unusual to hear of gods changing into something else and coming to earth…whether that thing was equal to humans or purposely below them.

  Those are the ideas mixed in here? wondered Stiyl, filing it away in a corner of his mind. “…How does that connect to the name ‘God’s Right Seat’? I believe you mentioned it being their ultimate objective at the same time as their organization’s name.”

  “Man cannot become God.” Instead of answering directly, Lidvia continued her own story. “There are plenty of supposed methods for doing so, but we have received no reports of one working. However, one step lower—angels, in other words—and we do have reports of certain disciplines, such as alchemy, demonstrating such an evolution…These too, of course, are incredibly rare, however.

  “In other words,” she declared, “they’re looking for a way to become an angel after erasing the original sin binding them as human. Not just any mere angel, mind you. That which borrows the form of angels and manifests upon the earth—using the true ‘god’ angel, which pretends to be an angel as a sample.”