A magnificent palace, a majestic castle—these terms no longer did much to describe what they were seeing. Only extreme metaphors from mythology, like a shrine built of gold or a pyramid constructed of diamond alone, fit this place. And just being shown something like this in reality seemed like enough to cause heartburn.

As Orsola ran down the straight passage, silver angel staff in both hands, looking around, she said to the nearby Index, “…It is eerily silent in here.”

“The ship has its role,” answered Index softly. “I think they didn’t expect enemies to get inside the flagship. They probably made the flagship specialize in smoothly controlling the escort ships, since they should have eliminated all enemies in the first place.”

“Which means…,” continued Orsola, her footsteps echoing down the passage, “…the other nuns aren’t following us because even they, despite being allies, haven’t received permission to board the flagship? To prevent them from snitching, maybe?”

They ran farther and approached a staircase. One set of stairs led up, the other down, but Index immediately ran down. Orsola had to hurry a little to catch up.

“Wait! Do you know where Miss Agnes is?!”

“Of course!” replied Index immediately. “I know most of the Queen of the Adriatic’s functions. I don’t know what the Rosary of the Appointed Time is like, but if they’re intervening with the Queen of the Adriatic, there’s only one place they’d do it! It’s the best place for it!!”

The staircase was long and coiling, like in a giant steel tower. After an extended flight downward, they eventually reached the bottom.

“This is…,” whispered Orsola.

It was like an auditorium. It was a wide-open space, and at the front stood double doors that were twice Orsola’s height. She didn’t know how thick they were, but they seemed thicker than her, too. The staircase they’d come down wasn’t the only entrance to the auditorium—dozens of passages all connected here, as though concentrated on the room.

Such a strange construction. It ignored the fundamentals of boat design. Realizing a design like this required distorting the placement of all the pillars and crossbeams in the ship. And they had forced it to work, which meant one thing.

“It looks less like this room was planned for this ship…”

“And more like the ship was shaped around the room.”

Index stepped toward the big doors in front. She brought her face near it, then went to touch it with her palm and stopped right before.

“This door here…It has a defensive spell on it. Probably following the tradition of Saint Blaise. The part where heretic soldiers chased the saint across a lake, and they all drowned, since they couldn’t walk on water.”

“Which would mean…whoever touches the entryway without permission will be dragged into the ice, perhaps?”

Even inside the flagship, they hadn’t run into anyone. The thorough emptiness possibly meant that Agnes and Biagio were the only ones who could open this door.

Index gave Orsola a sidelong glance. “Yep. If they do it like they’re supposed to, anyway.”

“That is what it would mean.”

Index managed the 103,000 grimoires, and Orsola was a grimoire and spell-analysis expert. They had both thought of the same thing already, and it wasn’t the word impenetrable.

Index sidled up as close as she could get to the door and observed it again. She began to analyze everything from the surface design patterns to the thick ice interior of the door’s construction. Orsola held her angelic staff at the ready in case Index by chance found herself on the wrong end of the door’s defensive mechanism.

However…

Crash!! Upside-down ice pillars bigger than a person came up through the floor around them. Ten or twenty of them, in fact. They steadily formed shapes as though an invisible blade were carving them.

“These…”

“Rather than the nuns, they have these?!”

They were ice armors—but not only them. Two wheeled cannons were there as well. Not just the armors but even the cannons all moved on their own, the cannons’ wheels shifting and creaking into place as they took aim.

Orsola grunted and reflexively readied her angelic staff. Combat wasn’t her specialty, but Index didn’t have any weapons at all, nor could she use magic. It would necessarily fall to Orsola to fight these, but…

“GYAH!! (Gather your aim here!!)”

…before she could, Index shouted something and threw herself to the side. The armors and cannons realigned their aim toward her. It wasn’t their defensive capabilities; it was like a strong magnet was drawing them to her.

Index kept going, jumping into one of the nearby passages. “You get Agnes! I’ll draw them away!! I’ll be okay. I can sense human intent in these guardians’ thoughts. My spell interception can interrupt it!!”

Index had speculated that these ice sculptures had been created by the overseers of the Queen’s Fleet. However, they hadn’t completely taken their hands off the wheel. They probably had information reports and intervention points programmed into them once every few minutes to determine whether they needed a course correction. They were reminiscent of the golem Sherry Cromwell controlled, Ellis. If they weren’t fully autonomous, there was room for her to slip inside—because no matter how advanced the sorcery, there was a person controlling it.

“Wait!!”

Before Orsola could argue, there was a gust of wind. All of the guardians had shot past Orsola on their way to follow Index, who had disappeared down the path. Like a dump truck passing at a high speed, the guardians pushed on the air and turned it into wind. There was a loud roar, and Orsola shut her eyes out of reflex.

When she opened them again, neither Index nor the armors nor the cannons were anywhere in sight.

“Miss Index!” shouted Orsola, her angelic staff in one hand. She waited but never got a reply.

8

Agnes Sanctis, nestling up against the ice sphere, listened to the sounds outside.

“…”

The sounds of artillery. The clashing of swords. The explosions of fireships. The shouting of people—and the noise of brawling she’d just heard right outside the door.

All of it was happening with her at the center.

The battle raged on, its only purpose to see whether Agnes would be taken or protected.

She thought it was ridiculous.

It was as though everyone was worried about her. That clearly wasn’t possible, but that was the sort of misunderstanding it offered.

She had thought this was the highest she could reach.

She had thought if she went out there, she could only go down.

But…

Was it still all right for her to depend on someone else?

Was it still all right for her to hold on to hope?

“…”

Agnes Sanctis, her mind hazy, thought.

And then…

…she shook her head.

She heard a slam.

It was the sound of the double doors made of ice crashing open, the ones that had closed in this unnaturally perfect pyramid room. Agnes looked there. It wasn’t the boy she’d met on the escort ship that time earlier. However, it also wasn’t someone she’d never seen in the Queen’s Fleet before.

“Orsola…Aquinas?”

It was a sister wearing a jet-black habit. It was still the same one as when she’d been driven out of the Roman Orthodox Church, and by some joke, she was gripping Agnes’s staff, the one they’d confiscated, in both hands. Breaking the magical defenses placed on those double doors was no small feat. And she was slightly frazzled and out of breath—maybe she’d pushed her concentration to the limit to do so.

And yet she showed no sign of tiredness in her expression.

Moreover, upon seeing Agnes’s face as she leaned against the sphere, her expression lit up a little.

“I’m…,” said Orsola. Agnes’s ears heard the voice of a saint herself. “I’m glad you’re safe…”

Saying such a thing—maybe it meant Orsola knew the situation Agnes was in. At least as much as Agnes did herself. Maybe that was why, after seeing Agnes safe, she looked so relieved.

After all Agnes had done to her.

Because of all she’d done to her.

“…Why?” asked Agnes, dazed. “You know all about what’s going on here, right? You wanted so badly to get out of the Queen’s Fleet. You didn’t want to stay somewhere so dangerous. You learned how unreasonable this facility is. That’s why you took me up on my plan, isn’t it? So why the heck are you, of all people, back here—and with that face?”

“You think too highly of me,” said Orsola, smiling painfully. “I couldn’t know everything just at a glance. The mechanism behind the Queen of the Adriatic was something Miss Index told me, and I’m still processing it. And I still know next to nothing of the Rosary of the Appointed Time.” She gripped the silver staff in both hands. “…If we had, nobody would have suggested to flee, alone, leaving you here after you kept silent to save everyone else.”

“Yes, that’s why…,” Agnes answered softly, noting just how remarkably out of the ordinary this person standing before her was. “That’s why I’m saying it’s strange. Yeah, I made myself the bait to save Sister Lucia and Sister Angeline. But that’s all I did. There’s no way everything will be fine after this is over, is there? Are you satisfied with that?”

Each and every word that came out of her mouth made her more miserable.

But she continued anyway. “You remember what happened with the Book of the Law! I was the one who chased you all the way to Japan, captured you, and beat you to a pulp! Normal people would have just left me here!! Are you seriously saying, after all that, that you want to let it be water under the bridge?!”

“Is it necessary for me to spell out the answer to that?” asked Orsola quietly. “Did you not remain silent about everything, directing us to Miss Lucia and Miss Angeline, because you knew everything? You thought that if we knew, we would necessarily come to stop you. If you still want to hear my answer in clear terms, then I will give it to you.”

She looked at Agnes.

“In the end, I don’t know the answer. I am still in training, after all. What is right, and what is wrong? I certainly don’t have the confidence to decide that myself, nor do I have the knowledge or good sense required to influence another person’s life.

“However,” she continued, “at the very least, Miss Lucia and Miss Angeline stated that they wanted to save you.”

“…” Agnes fell silent.

“Miss Lucia said that after they retreated to a safe place, they would still come back to save you. Miss Angeline said she was scared of one of her own being hurt and even hesitated making her weapon…I do not believe there was any falsehood in their words. They were more perfect people than anyone in that place. I cannot hold a candle to them.”

Her slowly spoken words didn’t have any compelling power behind them. But despite that, Agnes caught her breath.

“Do you have a complaint against what Miss Lucia and Miss Angeline said?” asked Orsola to the small nun. “Do you think their words are not enough—even though they said, faced with a hopeless situation, threatened by countless blades, that they wanted everyone to be together and happy again?”

“…” Agnes returned Orsola’s look for a moment. Her lips trembling, she opened her mouth to say something.

But then a man’s voice interrupted them.

“Impossible. Can you innocently believe the Roman Orthodox Church is keeping quiet about that?” said the voice. “This is a problem for us as well. Sister Agnes, do not flee from your duty so easily. Yes, the Roman Orthodox Church has two billion members. Even if you die here, the plan will not be interrupted. I will just need to search for another compatible person. However, do you have any idea how difficult it will be to wade through two billion people? It would be annoying, yes? And I do so hate annoyances.”

They were shallow words that brought everything to nothing.

Orsola turned around to where the voice came from.

A man, forty years old, clad in extravagant clerical vestments, appeared. He wore four necklaces, from which many crosses jangled, and a twisted, lopsided smile plastered on his face.

Biagio Busoni.

And…

His right hand was splattered with blood.

Likely not Biagio’s. He had no obvious wounds, and he showed no signs of pain in his face.

“…Then what exactly is that blood from?”

“How cold. Can’t spare any worry for me, eh? And I’ve already answered that question. I hate annoyances, remember? So, well, I swiftly took care of that one.”

“…” Orsola tightened her grip on the angelic staff she was holding.

But even Agnes, watching from afar, could clearly tell she wasn’t used to combat. She was the sort of nun who did battle on desks and paper—fundamentally different from Agnes and Biagio. It wasn’t a question of strength or weakness but an entirely different premise to start with, like trying to cross the South Pole the way you’d walk across a desert.

Biagio must have discerned that at first glance, too. The relaxation remained in his expression.

He didn’t even assume a combat stance.

“I would like to avoid such acts here if possible. Things are a bit delicate, you see. Why do you think something like the Queen’s Fleet was prepared to strengthen the perimeter? Because it wouldn’t be good if it could be damaged easily.”

“…The large-scale anti-Venice spell. You had such willingness to reclaim the glow of this obsolete antique.”

“Hmm, that appears to be your shared opinion. But that is incorrect. What we’re trying to do is not that anti–maritime city-state attack spell. It’s something beyond that.”

“You seem quite relaxed about it,” said Orsola.

She’s not very good, thought Agnes. The usual play was to gauge the distance while distracting Biagio with conversation.

“Well, yes. Nothing will come of talking about it. I can at least be relaxed about that. And it is my style to treat those about to lose their lives with the utmost courtesy. As much as possible, anyway. Oh, yes. I said the same thing to the boy before. Or should I say I explained it? He was difficult after he became more resistant, but it was still tolerable for me. I would ask the same degree of selfishness from you.”

“…” Orsola reflexively took a step forward.

Biagio, however, didn’t move.

It was like he was saying he didn’t need to pay attention to his enemy’s motions.

“Right, but where were we? Ah, yes. The Queen of the Adriatic. As I’m sure both of you already know, the spell was created specifically against Venice. It destroys the city with one strike but cannot be used in any other way. The reason is simple: Its creators were scared of it being pointed back at them if it was to fall into enemy hands.” Biagio ran a finger along one of the crosses around his neck. “The Queen of the Adriatic was completed in the ninth century…about the time the remains of Saint Mark, one of the twelve apostles, were smuggled into Venice. The Vatican—then the Roman Papal States—protected the remains of Saint Peter, and the spell was created by the Roman Orthodox Church now that Venice had created an equivalent religious environment.”

Orsola suddenly frowned. She was growing more aware that this wasn’t the time to be talking about it, but she asked a question anyway. “Are you lying to me? The development of Venice began around that ninth century. If the Queen of the Adriatic had been functional since then…”

“That’s right. The most prosperous time for Venice was yet to come. In history, we can see that it conquered all the nearby city-states, like Padua, Vicenza, Mestre, and Chioggia. You know that, right?”

“…Are you suggesting you can guide my thoughts with commonplace knowledge?”

“There are actually many reasons for those invasions, but one of them appears to have been the Queen of the Adriatic. At the time, the Venetian government couldn’t discern where the facility for the large-scale spell was. They had no choice but to keep crushing everywhere that seemed suspicious. After they’d gone that far, you would think the current Roman Orthodox Church would have used the Queen of the Adriatic…But they were probably too afraid in the end. Venice was incredibly powerful. If it was lost, they could incur significant blows, especially to their economy.”

“…”

“However, as a result, Venice amassed many war expenditures from their invasions. In the end, it’s said the city-state faced economic hardships and was nearly driven to ruin, which was unamusing. Of course, the invasions were not only to find the Queen of the Adriatic…but they did accomplish that objective.”

“A large-scale destructive magic that they didn’t use, letting fear of it destroy a nation…But…,” said Orsola.

Biagio smiled. “Yes. The Queen of the Adriatic could only be used against Venice. No matter how attractive the strength it boasted, it had no meaning as long as they couldn’t unlock the target restriction. Right now, Venice is a healthy tourist destination—the Roman Orthodox Church has no reason to disfavor the City of Water.”

Orsola was about to ask why—and then froze.

What Biagio had just said had a hypothetical, hopeful part buried in it.

“Yes. I see you’ve realized it,” declared Biagio Busoni.

“To remove the targeting restriction on the Queen of the Adriatic. That is what the Rosary of the Appointed Time is for.”

Orsola caught her breath. Agnes, too, opened her eyes wide—apparently, she hadn’t been told about this, either.

The bishop went on anyway, a hint of a smile creeping onto his face. “What a long road. Well, I did not create the Rosary of the Appointed Time, but she did. We certainly had a time of it. The Queen of the Adriatic, this magnificent weapon, was sitting in front of us—to think it would take so long to use it properly! Because of that, it was left alone for centuries!!”

“No…!!” Orsola said despite herself. “Are you saying you will use the Queen of the Adriatic to destroy the city you’ve found to be a problem?! Waving around a large-scale weapon that could destroy in one strike the city of Venice, known as a strong maritime city-state, a cultural melting pot, and a powerful nation of sorcery?!”

“City? No, you misunderstand. It would be more accurate to call it the world,” said Biagio, amused—as though even now, he was performing in a children’s musical. “Ha-ha! The Queen of the Adriatic isn’t just for a city. It destroys everything related to that city. If it were to destroy Venice, every painting and sculpture from it would be destroyed as well! Even the school of academia of Venice might disappear as well. But wait. What do you think would happen if we unleashed it on a city representing the world hostile to us?”

The world hostile to them.

The city representing it.

Orsola put the two together and realized what Biagio was saying. “You mean Academy City?!”

“That’s it exactly, Sister Orsola! The Queen of the Adriatic will eliminate all the effects that city has created. All of the world’s scientific technology has been affected by Academy City. Even if only by small things! If all that is destroyed, the half of the world of that detestable science, the entire science side, would be eradicated!!”

She shuddered.

The way Biagio spoke was as though he believed there was no humanity except in the places he saw. The ones living in the places he wasn’t present in—they looked to him like only vaguely human shapes in a picture.

The destruction of the science side. That wasn’t simply cutting away one half of the world map. People would actually die.

“Are you saying that if you destroy Academy City, it will make everyone happy?”

“No, I don’t think that. There will be those on the sorcery side hurt by this as well. The Puritans of England, the Catholics of Russia—and perhaps even other religions such as Buddhism and European mythology. But we must only go forward. We must only eliminate all those in the way! Eventually the impurities will be cleansed, and the Roman Orthodox Church will be the last one standing!!”

“You are a…!!” Orsola started.

The Queen of the Adriatic, created to stop Venice if it went out of control, had no need for a reload function to fire a second time. But judging by the way Biagio spoke, it was possible they had overcome even that. Or perhaps the odd work Miss Lucia and the others were being made to do in this fleet…That might have been them preparing to eliminate the issue of reloading…But Orsola kept that to herself.

As she shivered at the thought, Biagio sighed and continued to speak, his voice slowing just a bit, as though his interest had waned. “How dull. When did religion descend to the level of a mere convenient tool? Was there a mistake in the burning of Sodom and Gomorrah? The science side points to religious courts and inquisitions as a misinterpretation of Crossism, but that is the true misunderstanding. Why must God endure for His people? If there are those who create a disadvantage for Him, there should be no dissatisfaction in eliminating them. It is like burning out weeds. If you complain about burning the grass around them in the process, nothing will begin.”

If such a spell was wielded with thoughts like that, how much damage could it cause? It could evolve into a situation where he would destroy an entire city just to broil one single enemy human. It would be the greatest tragedy in the history of Crossism.

Biagio gave Orsola a sharp look. Then, in a shrill, excited voice trembling with joy, he said to the shuddering nun, “This is the dearest wish of the Roman Orthodox Church. That’s why I cannot have you acting violently in here. And I certainly cannot agree with you taking away Sister Agnes.”

“I’m the one who cannot agree!” Orsola swung the angelic staff with force.

Biagio exhaled, disappointed.

“I believe I just told you not to act violently.”

The outcome was decided the instant those words left his mouth.

Orsola began to speak an incantation to activate the angelic staff, but she was too slow—or rather, too polite with her speech. In combat, all you had to do was get the meaning across, yet she was using enough concentration as she began constructing the spell as one might in finishing the face of a sculpture. She wouldn’t be in time with that.

But all Biagio had to do was touch one of the crosses around his neck.

“—These crosses indicate rejection of immorality.”

As he spoke the words, he removed three crosses from their chains, which flew toward Orsola at an easy pace. On her guard, Orsola tried to bat them out of the air with her staff, but…

Boom!!

An instant before, the small accessories expanded explosively. It was like an actual explosion—their rate of expansion resembled an air blast made of steel. The attack was like a steel pile breaking down a door, and it easily flung the angelic staff from Orsola’s hands.

Agnes, behind her, gasped. Two more crosses attacked her as she stood, now unarmed. The second cross expanded at a position above her shoulders, flying down vertically to dislocate her joints. As her upper body bent over at the impact, the third cross exploded toward her curled back. There was a sound like a sledgehammer hitting a wall, and strength deserted Orsola’s legs, sending her slamming down on the icy floor.

And still, she tried to stagger back to her feet.

“Ha-ha! Stop this, Sister Orsola!!”

Biagio hadn’t taken a single step. He was so close to the completion of this too-long project, and his face wore only a smile.

He removed one cross from his necklaces and hurled it. Like a bouquet of flowers thrown into the ocean, it flowed through the air in a wide arc over Orsola’s head.

“—The weight of the cross cures pridefulness.”

Brr, came a noise like the midair cross vibrating.

Instantly, the cross gained thousands of times more gravitational acceleration and shot straight past Orsola’s neck. The ice floor lost out to the impact and exploded, lifting upward. Her facedown body, right next to where it happened, began to slide even farther to the side.

And still.

Without a weapon, her entire body beaten, Orsola’s fingers twitched.

In rebellion.

“Ku-ku. I did tell you to stop. The title of bishop is no mere honorific. We are able to wield many powers by unlocking the myriad of meanings behind the cross. If you would kill me, then come with the intent to demolish an entire cathedral! The English have their Walking Church, but even without that, I alone rival such a sanctuary!!”

Then Biagio took his eyes from Orsola.

He spoke to Agnes, standing behind her.

“It is a bit early, but let us get started, Sister Agnes.”

“Huh…?” Agnes returned Biagio’s look with a blank stupor.

The bishop didn’t display any particular aversion. “Amakusa is up on deck. They and Sister Orsola here are eyesores, but not enough to decisively affect the Rosary of the Appointed Time’s unlocking of the Queen of the Adriatic’s restriction. Hu-hu. I’ve had enough of this craving. Did it want to make me die of patience? We will start this now and leave our names in history, Sister Agnes!”

With Biagio’s words, the ice sphere Agnes rested on began to change.

“Let us begin the fitting. Once your mana is synchronized with both the Rosary of the Appointed Time and the Queen of the Adriatic, it will be over. Let us finish this quickly and deliver the good news to the Vatican!!”

A big hole opened in the sphere like eyelids parting ways—as though to invite her inside.

“…! I will…not let you!!”

“You would resist in such a state? Or do you wish to have yet more of your freedom stolen?” Biagio didn’t even spare Orsola a glance. He stroked the crosses at his neck with a finger. “Let us begin. Be glad, Sister Agnes. You will gain the honor of having buried the most enemies in the history of Crossism. It is what you have longed for all this time! Ever since you began wielding that angelic staff!!”

“…” Agnes listened to Biagio’s words and nodded awkwardly. Her downcast vision showed the angelic staff lying nearby.

His words were not wrong. That had actually been the reason for her action of chasing down Orsola during the incident regarding the Book of the Law. To bury the enemies of the Roman Orthodox Church. That was all. If those children hadn’t come to stop her, Agnes would have reveled in her killing of Orsola.

The elimination of enemies threatening her had been what Agnes wanted.

But.

“Those…enemies you speak of—does that not include Miss Agnes herself…?!”

Orsola, whom she had once nearly killed, moved so that she could shield Agnes.

Her body couldn’t even move properly with the damage it had sustained.

Agnes watched Orsola, taken aback.

Biagio laughed at Orsola’s words. “You really are an English Puritan now, and not of the Roman Orthodox Church. That is why you panic. If you were of our Church, there would be no need to feel apprehension with the Queen of the Adriatic before you.”

“And you really never act on anything but suspicion and jealousy. The very model of us Roman Orthodox disciples. If scales of self-interest are all you possess, then you cannot understand how a person would act on emotion. And even if you could, you wouldn’t believe it.”

Agnes had heard those words before, too. That was when she knew that this nun, Orsola Aquinas, hadn’t changed since that day.

“I said I cannot accept you using Miss Agnes and discarding her to realize such a hideous goal! Why can you not believe the fact that I can’t endure you hurting so many others by doing so?!”

“…I see.” The smile on Biagio’s face quietly disappeared. He toyed with several of the crosses at his neck. Then he plucked one of them. “I retract my previous statement. Even if the impediment is small it must still be crushed.”

Orsola stiffened. Not only at the realistic threat. This nun probably wasn’t used to someone directing such a thirst for blood at her. She had lived her whole life mostly unrelated to such a world.

Agnes thought to herself. Why was she going this far? If she had been from Academy City, she’d understand. If she had been a resident of the science side, she’d understand. It would be threatening her directly in that case. If she didn’t stop Biagio, it would be more than her lifestyle at risk: She would directly lose her life in the end.

But that wasn’t the case. She wouldn’t die even if Academy City was destroyed. If Biagio targeted English Puritanism, then she could simply turn coats to another group, another religion, like she had when she cast off Roman Orthodoxy. At the very least, Biagio was telling her he wouldn’t kill her right away if she didn’t interfere with the Rosary of the Appointed Time.

Why was she standing against it?

Why didn’t she want to prolong her life even a second longer?

“Crossism teaches one to love thy neighbors—but there is no mercy at all against such distant enemies,” declared Biagio, fingering one of his crosses. “Such is clear upon looking at the legends of the saints adorning the calendar pages.” The power in his finger was smooth and accurate like a snake. It looked like he was serious now.

She would die. Agnes knew it.

So she spoke to Orsola from behind. “…Please…move aside. Either way, you can’t stop Biagio. If you don’t resist, you don’t have to die.”

Agnes hadn’t wanted to say those words. It was what almost every heretic priest said to the saints in legends as they were about to die, to try to tempt them to give up Crossism.

But.

“I have…no reason to do that…!!”

As though she were a saint appearing in a legend, Orsola Aquinas refused.

The answer had been immediate.

Her voice had been shaking. She was in pain, but it was probably also due to the tension, the unease, and even the fear. But Orsola had answered Agnes immediately. She hadn’t thought it through very much. She believed it didn’t need much thought, and the words left her mouth right away.

“It’s over, Sister Orsola,” announced Biagio.

His voice was unhesitating as well, though likely born of entirely different reasoning. Biagio Busoni would now kill Orsola. He would simply follow what was inside him, believe it was absolute and just, and refuse to listen to anything else.

Orsola would die.

“They were more perfect people than anyone in that place. I cannot hold a candle to them.”

She would die, likely without being able to put up anything close to a fight.

“Do you have a complaint against what Miss Lucia and Miss Angeline said?”

Orsola, who had no power and said those things to Agnes.

“Do you think their words are not enough—even though they said, faced with a hopeless situation, threatened by countless blades, that they wanted everyone to be together and happy again?”

Orsola, who hadn’t worried about only Agnes but even about Lucia and Angeline.

The one who had said those things, right before Agnes’s eyes, would be—

“Ha-ha! Laugh, Sister Agnes, as your dream is realized through destruction!”

The instant she heard Biagio’s words, Agnes’s awareness burst.

Grrkeee!! There was a loud roar of metal on metal.

“…What is this?” asked Biagio, but Agnes didn’t answer.

The angelic staff, which had been on the floor a moment ago, was now in her hands. She reached her arms in front of Orsola and, by plunging the lower tip of the staff into the floor an inch in front of the nun, stopped her from moving.

The cross from Biagio, which had explosively expanded, its tip like a metal beam, collided with the angelic staff. It had been aimed right between Orsola’s eyes. If it had been on target, her entire head might have just vanished. Agnes, gripping the staff, clenched her teeth against the force of the impact.

Agnes spat on the floor.

Then she came around Orsola and violently swung the angelic staff before leveling it. The action had none of the politeness Orsola’s had.

“Tutto il paragone. Il quinto dei cinque elementi. Ordina la canna che mostra pace ed ordine.” (All creation in harmony. The fifth of the five elements. Deploy the crosier, symbol of peace and order.)

It was as though that rough treatment was actually a sign of her faith in the staff.

It was as though she was implying that she believed it would take more than that to break it.

“Prima! Segua la legge di Dio ed una croce. Due cose diverse sons connesse!!” (First icon! Obey God and the laws of the Cross. Connect foreign objects and people!!)

Biagio, however, wasn’t even watching the weapon being aimed at him. There was a bigger problem. When she had ignored his question, his face had quickly reddened.

“Sister Agnes!! I asked you what you are doing!!”

“Hah. It’s just what you think it is,” Agnes spat ever so weakly upon seeing the enraged Biagio, smiling—yes—like a villain. “This is all wrong. Can’t believe I actually still want to look after Sister Lucia, Sister Angeline, and all those other sisters! And thinking about your shitty orders making them fight pisses me off so much!!”

Even as she shouted, she didn’t withdraw a single step.

Biagio’s temple twitched unnaturally. “You…impudent…” He clenched his teeth before tearing off one of the many crosses at his chest and thrusting the hand gripping it into the air. “Watch your mouth, you God-damned sinner!!”

Bgwee, came a strange noise.

A moment later.

“Ah…guh?!”

Agnes heard a cry from behind her. She whipped around to see Orsola collapsing to the ground. She was sitting now, face covered in greasy sweat, but as soon as she shook her head to clear it, the act appeared to defeat her, and she fell over onto her side.

“Apes, every single one of you, screaming in the words of man…” The bishop’s mouth split sideways. “—Simon carries the cross of the Son of God!!” The words came out like an explosion.

Before Agnes could realize what happened, her vision started to spin.

“Wha…at?!”

By the time she suppressed the incredible urge to vomit, she had already lost her balance and dropped to her knees. She tried to rise but almost collapsed to the floor like Orsola had.

And then…

Biagio approached her and delivered a firm kick to the kneeling Agnes’s jaw. The tip of his hard shoes digging into her jawbone caused an explosive pain. Her small body bent over and began to fall backward.

“Gah…ah…!!”

She got the hand with her staff to the floor, but it had no strength. It was like she was exhausted from doing push-ups; she couldn’t lift herself up. Not even the angelic staff, which she’d used so much it had her finger marks on it, would help here.

A…spell…That…attack…

But Agnes still didn’t give up.

She moved her head, starting to get a handle on the situation she’d been placed in.

Most…likely…

Judging by the words in the incantations, Biagio had just used sorcery based on the legend of the time the Son of God was hung on the cross. But the Son of God had been killed with his hands and feet nailed to it, and neither Agnes nor Orsola had any such wounds.

Which meant one thing.

There are legends regarding the Son of God and crosses from before His execution. When He was burdened with the heavy wooden cross that would crucify Him and made to walk the hill of Calvary…

“…But I thought…the Son of God…didn’t have the strength left to carry the cross. Instead of Him…a man named Simon…carried the cross…to the site of the crucifixion. Is that wrong?”

Biagio’s eyebrow twitched. Then he grinned. “So you realized it.”

“To have one shoulder the weight of all that equipment…That is…what you attacked us with. This can’t be…your weight alone…It’s probably…the weight of all the equipment…worn by those on the Queen’s Fleet…concentrated into one place…and converted into attack power…”

One would think the combined weight of at least two hundred fifty people would crush a human, but it was only the weight pressing down on her—there was no acceleration.

There was a torture method where the torturer placed a heavy weight on the person’s gut region—and surprisingly enough, the recorded limit for doing so was over four hundred kilograms. Humans were more resistant the slower the weight was applied.

“Orsola fell faster than I did because the attack is aimed from high to low. It’s like a knockout punch, since normally the highest part of the body is the head.”

“Splendid. You certainly are different from a certain other heretical ape.” Biagio, though, sounded all too easy about his trick being exposed. “But just because you know about it doesn’t mean you can block it!!”

He tore off another one of the crosses on his chest before lifting it over him. At that moment, the “weight” concentrated on Agnes’s body came at her.

She thought she was going to black out.

If she did, it was all over.

Agnes was a crucial part of the plan, so he wouldn’t just kill her. Orsola, on the other hand…If Agnes stopped her resistance now, he’d deliver the finishing blow to the unnecessary nun.

And yet, despite knowing that.

Even though she knew that.

The highest part of her body was being targeted—so she raised her staff overhead, but the attack sent waves of intense pain through her fingers, nearly breaking their bones. The angelic staff clattered to the ground. She couldn’t help but pull her hand away, and then the impact pushed down on her head once again.

Biagio laughed scornfully at the meager display of resistance. “Ha-ha! What are you doing, Sister Agnes?! You think your frail little hand can block my attack? You should have brought more muscle with you!”

“Kh…!!”

She was almost out of strength, and yet Agnes still endured it, clenching her teeth. As if ashamed at her powerlessness. Biagio plucked off another cross at his chest to apply additional pressure to Agnes’s head, but she still reached out for the angelic staff on the floor, and—

“That right? You think this right hand will do the trick, then?”

Bgwee!! came the sound of something breaking.

It came from behind Biagio. From the double doors leading into this giant pyramid room. A square of it—no, a cube—was blasted away, and someone stepped into the room.

He raised his right hand over his head…

…and drove away the weight attack approaching from above.

Biagio turned around, then yelled at the intruder. “You…you heretical monkey…!!”

“Yeah, you should have checked the body, stupid. My right hand’s a little tougher than you seem to think!!”

The young man didn’t say a word about Agnes. Why was she protecting Orsola? What was she thinking, doing something so out-of-place?

But thankfully, he didn’t ask any of those things.

He probably didn’t have the time to, given that Biagio loomed right in front of him.

And it was only natural to think his own strike had been more to save Orsola than Agnes.

And yet…

Agnes couldn’t help but feel like she’d been saved.

She couldn’t help but feel like Touma Kamijou had come to save her.

“Owoohhhh!!” he shouted, running straight for Biagio.

Biagio plucked off a cross and, with a somewhat impatient look, clicked his tongue and stepped back.

And then he unleashed another weight attack.

It had likely been a snap judgment based on his faith in his trump card and his surprise at Kamijou having crawled back to him. His ability to come up with a method of attack so quickly based on the threat level showed that he was very used to real combat.

But there was an exception for everything.

“Too slow! I won’t fall for that again!!”

The boy instantly brought up his right hand and repelled the weight attack with a single swing before stepping right up close to Biagio.

“No…?!” Biagio hastily reached for the next cross…

…but before he could, Kamijou’s fist buried itself in the middle of Biagio’s face.

Crack!!

The sound of flesh slamming against flesh, of bone slamming against bone, echoed far and wide.

9

After making sure Biagio was unconscious, Kamijou relaxed at last. He turned back to Orsola and Agnes. “Great. While Biagio’s out cold, let’s tie him up and take his crosses. I’m worried the battle might still be going on up on the decks. Oh, and Agnes?”

“Y-yes?” stammered the short sister, appearing to think she was in for a scolding now.

“Thanks. If you hadn’t protected Orsola, things would have been real bad.”

“…” Though she was being thanked, Agnes’s face was one of disbelief. Then she turned her cheek away with a “hmph” and fell silent.

Kamijou’s eyes narrowed in frustration. “(…Damn it. What a waste of a compliment.)”

“(…If that is seriously how you think, then my, are you a cute little child.)”

“(…Uh, what? Ow! Hey, what’d you hit me for?)”

Orsola, keeping one hand pressed to her cheek, was hitting him over and over with her other.

Kamijou, as he desperately fended off the blows, said, “Oh right, the Queen’s Fleet—er, even bigger, the Queen of the Adriatic. What should we do to break the whole thing? Agnes, you were the one they were going to use for the Rosary of the Appointed Time, right? I want to get rid of that value. I want to totally destroy the Rosary of the Appointed Time and the Queen of the Adriatic so they can never be used again. Is there, like, a core or something?”

“Umm…” Agnes paused for a moment, then looked over at where Biagio lay. “The Queen of the Adriatic…or rather, strictly speaking just this pyramid room we’re in now—I don’t think it could be replaced. I don’t think modern technology could make this anymore, so if we wreck all its functions, they shouldn’t ever be able to repair it again.”

“However, wasn’t the Rosary of the Appointed Time an additional spell that didn’t originally exist in the Queen of the Adriatic? I would believe this giant pyramid is the Queen of the Adriatic, whereas the Rosary of the Appointed Time is something else.”

So it’s up to my right hand, Kamijou resolved, looking down slightly toward his fist. Wasn’t his job to think about sorcery stuff? “Okay, so if we just bust one of them up, that’s fine, right? If it can’t be replaced, then let’s start with this room.” He faced Agnes and Orsola again. “For now, once we destroy the Queen of the Adriatic, it’ll be over. The ship will sink…The ice will turn into seawater again, though, so I guess we’ll just have to find Amakusa and get out of here.”

Agnes groaned and cringed a little. “So Amakusa is here, too.”

Orsola gave her a glance, then continued. “The main problem, though, is what to do once we’ve alighted from this ship. I cannot show the proper path to everyone. We will need to think on our own about what to do after…”

Her words never reached the end.

Rattle. Suddenly, Agnes’s knees gave out.

“Agnes?” Kamijou reached out his hand in haste, but he was a moment too late. She collapsed to the floor, his hand passing right over her. The angelic staff in her hands clattered to the floor with a strangely reverberating sound.

“Gah…!” Agnes fell on her side, then curled up into a fetal position. “…Egh…gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!” She screamed, gnashing her teeth.

He didn’t know what had just happened. But it was plain to see from her expression of overwhelming pain that this wasn’t a joke. Kamijou couldn’t guess at how much it hurt, but a muddy sweat burst out all over her face at once.

“Agnes!! What’s…?” Kamijou said before seeing something odd out of the corner of his eye.

Biagio Busoni.

The bishop, who had just been unconscious a few moments ago, had wobbled up onto one knee and was now glaring at them. His bloodshot eyes rolled around frantically, casting doubt as to whether they were actually focused on anything. Highly viscous drool dripped from the corners of his mouth.

And…

His right hand, as if about to tear open his chest, grabbed every one of the crosses attached to his four necklaces. His hand trembled unnaturally.

Orsola stooped down to cradle the fallen Agnes. “The Rosary of the Appointed Time…Was that what it was? Have you done something to Miss Agnes through a Soul Arm?!”

Had the Rosary of the Appointed Time been fully prepared already? But if that was true, why had Agnes been left alone this whole time? Kamijou had no knowledge of sorcery, so he couldn’t fathom a guess, but just from the situation, he naturally believed the preparations were incomplete.

But Biagio grinned. With excitement and tension, heaving hot clouds of air, he said, “Hah, the Rosary of the Appointed Time? Can’t use that without adjusting it first. Right now, I can still only use the Queen of the Adriatic for its true purpose.” His eyes wavered, then locked on to Kamijou. “But its power is all here already. Did you never use your head? The Roman Orthodox Church feared this being stolen and pointed back at them, so they added all sorts of tricks to the targeting system and the Queen’s Fleet. So if it actually was turned over to the enemy, what do you think they had in store as a final, last resort?”

The Roman Orthodox bishop then told them, amused, even though it would affect him as well.

“A self-destruct mechanism.”

“Biagio!!” Kamijou screamed suddenly.

He didn’t give a damn about how it worked. This guy was trying to bring everything down because his plan had failed. By turning Agnes’s mind into an empty shell, at that.

He grunted. The nearby illumination slowly dimmed like a movie theater right before the movie started. With nearly all of the pyramid room’s light gone, they heard a shrill, grating sound. It was coming from right above them—and it was the sound of several of the equilateral triangular panels making up the walls slowly popping out.

A single ray of light shone down from the pinnacle of the pyramid far overhead.

It bounced off dozens of the prisms jutting out of the walls, and after reflecting, refracting, diffusing, and converging, it created an enormous pattern in midair.

It had not created a simple flat plane but a dome-shaped canopy.

It was like a planetarium—a glittering night sky created by man and for his convenience.

“…Don’t think you’re getting away.” Biagio looked up to the ceiling and laughed in scorn. “This is the large-scale magic device the two hundred and fifty sinners on board this fleet have been reinforcing through alchemical methods. Simply destroying bits and pieces of the walls and floor will not stop this!!”

As if to answer his voice, the distorted canopy began to shine more brightly. As if to indicate with absolute calm to a human that the tool was now in standby mode.

Orsola frowned. “This isn’t good…If an attack spell with the power to blow away an entire city-state runs out of control…Simply the explosive force, barring any magical effects, will travel no less than ten kilometers out.”

Ten kilometers.

That was a distance his imagination could keep up with. Orsola supplemented her explanation. “…I do not know exactly where in the Adriatic Sea we are, but if we traveled north from Chioggia, we are near Venice…and it will likely be caught up in it. Other neighboring cities such as Adria and Padua could be in danger as well…”

“Not only that.”

He didn’t know what was different about a magical explosion. But say it really did torch a radius of ten kilometers, a tactical weapon.

If that was true, the victims wouldn’t be limited to only the range of the blast from the explosion. A huge amount of seawater would instantly vaporize, and all the hot gas would immediately extend to cover an even larger area. The vapor would be hundreds of degrees Celsius as it swarmed out for dozens of kilometers, and that would boil people alive. Plus, the water vapor would change the atmosphere’s temperature, creating an extreme difference in air pressure. Broadly speaking, it would spell the birth of a supergiant hurricane. Then, to drive the nail into the coffin of the towns already torched by the siroccos of water vapor, the violent winds would uplift buildings.

It would be a massive chain of destruction.

Kamijou swore to himself. Queen of the Adriatic? Who needed that when this was all it took to blow Venice out of existence?

“Ah…geh…!!”

He heard Agnes’s cries.

The cold, starlike light made her complexion look worse than it was.

Kamijou rubbed his right hand over the writhing Agnes’s back, but it didn’t seem to undo the effects. It probably wouldn’t stop until the crosses in Biagio’s hand were destroyed.

Then he heard a creaking noise.

It wasn’t from Agnes. The entire ship was beginning to creak.

The ship’s construction was under tremendous stress from Biagio’s reckless command. When it reached its limit, it, along with the rest of the Queen’s Fleet, could be blown away.

“Orsola, take Agnes and get above deck! You had a submersible, right? Get Amakusa to retreat into it, too! And try to convince the Roman Orthodox people if you can!!”

“Y-yes. But what about you?” asked Orsola, wobbling awkwardly yet still cradling the trembling Agnes in both hands. She politely held the angelic staff, too.

Kamijou moved his eyes from Orsola to Biagio. “Someone’s gotta stop him, right? I’ll meet up with you later. So go, Orsola!!”

“But that’s…?!” Orsola cried out of reflex, but Agnes’s moans cut her off. On top of that, Biagio was slowly bringing his fingers to the crosses around his neck.

They had no time.

“Promise…Promise me you will!”

That was all Orsola said before running for the exit. Maybe she decided she couldn’t do anything here, or she was thinking about how to give Agnes some sort of first aid.

Only Kamijou and Biagio were left in the giant pyramid room.

Inside the creaking ship, the bishop spoke.

“…This is why I didn’t want to do this.”

His eyes bloodshot, he slowly rose from his kneeling position. The damage from where his solar plexus had been rammed into shouldn’t have gone away yet. But still, with twisted determination alone, Biagio began to support his own body weight with his legs.

Beneath the planetarium of his own making, he said this. “Damn that woman. A great cause? Leaving my name in Roman Orthodox history? I told him it was too soon for this immediately after hearing the plan. I’m already done for. Now I can only wait to be erased as a sinner. The Church’s pride, the Queen of the Adriatic, one of the Ten Rites of the Holy Spirit along with the Croce di Pietro…If I lose something so important, I will never be given a chance to redeem myself.”

“So you’re taking everything with you? What’s that going to change? All you’re really doing is trying to make yourself feel better without improving anything!!”

And many other people would be involved in his wallowing in self-pity.

The sisters of Agnes’s unit, forced to fight on Biagio’s orders. The young men and women of Amakusa, who were trying to stop them without bloodshed. Lucia and Angeline. Orsola and Agnes. Tatemiya and Index. All of them.

By the order given by this man-made canopy…

…using the giant ship in its entirety, everything would be destroyed with overwhelming destructive force.

“What…are you saying?” Biagio Busoni grinned. His courageous smile stretched across his face. “Who would not feel danger in this situation? Where you have fought so many of my soldiers, sunk so much of this fleet, and saw to it that the bishop Biagio Busoni will perish? Your strength alone, along with your connections, can already be labeled a threat to the Roman Orthodox Church. There is not a soul who would disagree with my choice. I will make the end grand. I would give up the entire God-damned Adriatic coastline if it was to overcome such an enemy!!”

His thoughts were the polar opposite of Touma Kamijou’s.

He struggled not to move forward but to turn back.

Not satisfied with defending but with taking.

Not stopping the pain before it got to others but forcing it on everything around him.

“Biagio…” Kamijou clenched his right fist without a sound.

The bishop didn’t care. He spread his arms wide, declaring, “…Yes, that’s the expression. That fortitude of yours is the threat to us. And that is why I will crush you while I have the chance. It will be the final achievement I can offer to the Roman Orthodox Church!!”

“Biagioooooooooooooo!!” shouted Kamijou, sprinting for him as fast as he could.

Biagio didn’t even retreat—instead, he placed both hands on the many crosses hanging from his neck. He made a gesture as though he was praying, but it didn’t look the slightest bit holy. All Kamijou could sense was the sludge of his clinging tenacity.

Kamijou made it to close range and wound up to punch him in the side.

“—The cross indicates rejection of immorality!!”

The crosses in his hands explosively expanded. In an instant, they became giant metal shields bigger than a coffin, stopping Kamijou’s fist’s movement.

The power in his right hand blew the cross shield away like it was sand.

Biagio, behind it, took five crosses and flung them over Kamijou’s head.

“—The cross’s weight cures pridefulness!!”

The small accessories, given immense gravitational acceleration, crashed down toward him like cannonballs.

Kamijou didn’t even bother looking up. “Ooohh!!” Stomp!! He took another step forward.

Toward Biagio—toward the safe zone he’d left as Kamijou drew closer.

Then he let loose with his fist.

He put every ounce of strength into his right hand for one decisive blow to the man’s face.

“?!”

But Biagio crossed his arms to guard his face. Kamijou felt him punch his hard bones, but the damage had been directed away from his core.

The motion wasn’t meant as an impromptu defense.

Because Biagio had the shields for which he used the giant crosses.

Which meant…

“—The cross indicates rejection of immorality!!”

Behind the bishop’s crossed arms were one cross held in each hand.

They exploded right in front of Kamijou.

Pop!!

It was pretty much a counterattack: The tips of the two crosses, now the size of steel beams, dug into Kamijou’s right shoulder and gut. He didn’t even have room to clench his teeth before being whacked straight back. After bounding a few times across the ice floor, he continued into a roll.

“Guh…” He coughed. He wasn’t breathing right. Within one second, his whole body had burst out into a sweat. The pure pain wasn’t as big a priority as the bile rising within him. As he tried to get up, he felt like he was leaning over to the side.

But he still got himself up again.

When he moved his fingers, the pain in his shoulder shot through the rest of his arm.

Biagio watched and smiled. His expression and emotion weren’t directly related, and to prove that once again was the fact that his smile was an infinitely shadowed one. “I am surprised you can get up after that…I gave you enough of a shock to rock your heart…” He wasn’t unhurt, either. Biagio rubbed his nose, which had been punched. “Why do you struggle so? Is Sister Agnes on her own such a meaningful reward to you?! It’s just one nun—she’s going to die, anyway! Our organization is enormous. It consists of two billion people and spreads across one hundred and thirteen countries. You cannot defy us in any real way…And also! That woman already has no place that will welcome her!! Why don’t you understand that, you fucking heretic monkey?!”

“…I will…never understand.” Kamijou clenched his teeth.

She threw away her only chance at being saved to protect Lucia and Angeline and the rest. He didn’t know exactly what was happening, but she had stood up to Biagio with angelic staff in hand to defend Orsola. And she’d been right to do that for her.

Two billion people, 113 countries? Enormous organizations? They meant less to him than the leaves on the trees.

This guy was already about to ignore even the Roman Orthodox Church’s ideas and strike one final time in desperation. Agnes’s mind would be broken, and everyone who came to the Queen’s Fleet would die in the explosion. It was the worst possible outcome—and Kamijou wasn’t going to have any of it.

Biagio Busoni’s words were shallow.

If they were enough to get him to give up, nobody would have come here in the first place.

“You piece of shit. Nothing you say’s gonna convince me…!!”

And so, that was all he shouted.

He didn’t get into an endless dispute. Both Kamijou and Biagio were unwilling to continue the relay race of this conversation. Now Kamijou would punch him and end things—that was it.

Touma Kamijou ignored his aching shoulder, spat on the floor, and tightened his right fist.

Biagio Busoni brought his hand to the many crosses hanging around his neck.

The first breath they took was the signal to start.

Bam!! Both of them began to run at the same time, trying to close the distance.

“Ooohhh!!”

Within three seconds, Kamijou would plunge into his fist’s attack range.

Biagio removed one of the crosses at his chest.

“—The cross indicates rejection of immorality!!”

His palm was raised right in front of Kamijou.

In addition, his free hand was already on the next cross. Even if he let the first one be blown away, Biagio’s attacks would continue. Blow for blow, the crosses were more powerful than Kamijou’s fist. If Biagio tried to overwhelm him with numbers, Kamijou would be pushed back for certain.

I can’t get in close the normal way. At point-blank range, Kamijou turned his attention to his tightened fist. It’s not just this attack. I need to stop his entire flow of attacks…!!

There was no time now that he thought of it, even if he tried to prepare something.

In the end, he had to bet it all on his one fist.

The cross in the palm held in front of him popped and began its expansion.

“Biagioooooooooooooo!!”

At the very same time, he sent his fist flying at the accessory.

Not his right—but his left.

Even an amateur could tell his nondominant hand’s strike was much weaker. Compared to his right fist, which he always used to punch, its speed was overshadowed.

But his left fist was different in one other respect.

It didn’t have the Imagine Breaker’s power in it.

“!!”

The cross Biagio was gripping bounced a little from Kamijou’s left fist. With a soft tink, the accessory in his hand had simply changed its direction slightly.

However…

The cross, facing in a different direction than Biagio had planned, expanded very quickly.

Boom!!

The tip of the cross that had been in his hand now stabbed his jaw.

“Ghbah?!”

Biagio’s body sprang straight up.

This…little…He used my own attack…!!

He could think, but he had no room to speak. The whole inside of his mouth stung with pain.

Kamijou took another step toward him.

“Ooh…”

Another step into the deepest range.

This time, he rallied all his energy into his weapon, his right fist.

“…Oooooooaaaaaaaahhhhh!!”

With a roar, he unleashed all his force.

Ga-grak!! came the sound of metal breaking.

He hadn’t aimed for Biagio’s face but lower—for the middle of his chest.

Because Biagio’s body had sprung upward, Kamijou’s straight fist had made contact with the bishop’s chest.

His fist dug deeply into the four necklaces there and the many crosses hanging from them—as though trying to plant itself in Biagio’s sternal plate behind them. The chains of the four necklaces came apart and fell to the floor, and the pile of accessories shattered apart with the sound of a chandelier breaking.

Boom!! Its power gone, the bishop’s body was mowed down.

Leveling his gaze on Biagio as he lay on the floor, Kamijou caught his breath. “Don’t worry, I’ll fight it…,” he said anyway. “…I don’t care if you have two billion followers or one hundred and thirteen countries. If you come after Agnes and the others again, I’ll stand against you, no matter how many times it takes.”

He looked above him.

In his widening range of vision, the planetarium supported by countless prisms began to fade. Like an unplugged appliance, all it left in its wake was a cold, dead hunk of metal.

In the now lightless room, a splitting sound cracked through the air.

The Queen’s Fleet was beginning to crumble.

The crosses at their core had been destroyed.

At the same time, he was sure he’d prevented the giant explosion that would have caught everything in it.

The pyramid room began to break, the flagship began to tear apart, and the young man once again began to fall toward the Adriatic.