CHAPTER 3

The Master, Like a Closed World’s God
DEUS_EX_MACHINA.

1

Stiyl Magnus was heading for the topmost floor of the north of the four buildings.

The decoy he had set loose, Touma Kamijou, might have drawn the enemy’s attention more than he anticipated, because no one was coming to yell at him. The sorcerer had gone full hermit mode, confirmed the locations of the doors to all the secret rooms, and succeeded in learning something important.

Deep Blood, Aisa Himegami, was apparently not, in fact, being locked in one of those rooms.

As far as he could tell from the dust and remnants of mana at the entrance to all of the hidden spaces, there was no trace of anyone going in or out of them, whether on the front of the coin or the back of the coin.

Aside from Aureolus, he also hadn’t run across any personnel, like subordinates or soldiers. This didn’t seem like the kind of environment made to imprison someone who could run away at any moment.

That made things troublesome in their own right. If Aisa Himegami wasn’t being confined against her will, and she was following and cooperating with Aureolus Isard, then that unknown Deep Blood ability might be turned on him.

…Good Lord, there isn’t a single decent esper out there.

As he thought that far, Stiyl suddenly recalled the boy whom he had used as a decoy.

Stiyl personally felt like there wouldn’t be a problem if he were to die back there. He had informed him that they weren’t allies right from the start, and he had even declared he would use him as a shield.

But in that moment after he shoved the boy down the stairs, he had made a betrayed face.

He looked like he’d been backstabbed by a trusted ally.

“…”

Stiyl slammed a flame sword into him upon their reunion and then dragged him into a war zone of swirling death against his will. Despite all that, that boy considered Stiyl to be trustworthy?

That fact dug into Stiyl somewhere in his heart.

Though it was a small thorn, it made him pretty irritated for some reason.

…Good Lord, there isn’t one single good, decent esper!

That’s why Stiyl was running up the narrow emergency stairwell.

It was really no use to think this, but…Now that the boy was his decoy, some stinking human part of him was whining that he needed to achieve something worthy of that, and…

“It is unclear. Why in the world do you hurry so?”

All of a sudden, a cold voice flew at him from behind.

“…”

Stiyl halted.

He was running up a narrow emergency staircase. He obviously couldn’t have missed passing by someone, so what was that voice at his back?

It was as if the man’s voice had suddenly materialized out of thin air.

“…”

He turned around slowly, realizing deep down that the fact that someone got behind him without him knowing already foretold lethal consequences.

There, he saw…

“Hmm. So this is the place.”

As the purple hue of night began to blend with the evening orange, Index arrived at Misawa Cram School. It looked like a totally normal building, but that was weird in and of itself. She had followed the mana from that rune sorcery set up in the dormitory back to its owner, and it brought her here. And yet, the thread of magic cut off right at the wall of the building.

If she were to say it, then it was clear as day that it was abnormal inside the building, but something was forcing it to appear ordinary.

Just as mana exists in people, so too does a “power” exist in the world.

Crossism calls this “God’s Blessing.” Though the model society of modern western sorcery, Stella Matitina, calls it Telesma, the nuance is closest to the concept of chimyaku or ryuumyaku in eastern feng shui thoughts. As those names imply, it is myaku, or veins, that spread out like blood vessels and run throughout the world.

Of course, just as with the gasoline-like mana refined from a person’s life force, this “world power” isn’t very strong by itself (though, from the huge discrepancy between the life span of a planet and that of a human, you understand that this power is just a little bit more than a person’s magic power). It is transformed into the gasoline-like “rays” via shrines and temples and turns into a vast source of energy.

This power filling the world is the same as air in that normal humans (sorcerers included) cannot perceive it. The only ones who can are those who specialize in the field, such as diviners and feng shui practitioners.

In the four buildings towering over her, however, there was none of that force.

The normally undetectable world power is like air. But in the same way one struggles to breathe when placed in a vacuum, Index was struck with an indescribable feeling of wrongness.

To put it simply, the force everything is filled with was absent in those buildings.

It was like a giant headstone for the world cut into a square—a tower of dead magic.

The building probably had a barrier to prevent mana from leaking outside, but this was going way too far.

Kamijou’s right hand tirelessly and continuously destroys this world power, but that wasn’t anywhere near this bad. His destruction was in harmony with nature—almost like a dead tree returning to the earth and forming the roots of new life. That’s why Index hadn’t caught onto it until he had actually destroyed her Walking Church.

But this “magic tower” was different.

It was a man-made abomination, where the forest had instead been razed to build a city of stone and steel.

Didn’t that rune sorcerer notice the incongruity?

Maybe he couldn’t sense it because he was a runic sorcerer who was himself a furnace for vast amounts of mana. Kind of like how if you’re used to thick, flavorful foods, you lose your ability to notice slight variations in taste.

But Index wasn’t able to temper a single bit of mana. For that reason, this subtle, mild difference of taste was enough to give her goose bumps.

“It’s not a barrier to protect oneself against enemies entering, it’s a barrier of death to prevent enemies who have entered from escaping…Hmm, the model case for that is kinda like the pyramids in Egypt…”

As she muttered to herself, the nun in white passed through the automatic doors.

She had no reason to stop there.

It was bizarre, and that’s why she had to bring the boy out of there as soon as possible.

The second she took a step in, the air around her changed entirely. It was like walking into an air-conditioned store after being in the boiling-hot sun. The bustling, peaceful city streets had suddenly been switched with traces of an empty battlefield overflowing with death. That certainly wasn’t incorrect. In the back of the wide lobby, on the wall with the elevators, there was a knight armored with Roman Orthodox ritual implements lying dead.

Index drew near with trepidation and inspected the knight.

The ritual implement, the Surgical Armor, used mana to absorb and disperse the impact from physical attacks. Since that was the main feature of the armor, it was in turn weak to magical attacks…but this one had definitely been deliberately rocked with something physical, in spite of that.

…Did they not know anything about magic, or did they do it because they had a taste for that kind of thing?

Of course, looking at this building that replicated the grave of King Kufka, she knew that the former was out of the question. The latter presented its own set of problems, though. How had someone broken through a Roman Orthodox Surgical Armor with brute force? Had they summoned an archangel via Telesma, or were they skilled at creating metallic golems?

In any way, she couldn’t leave the boy in a place like this. It smelled too strongly of death to let a magic-ignorant amateur get lost in here.

Then she heard something being dragged along, coming from her side. Index looked in that direction. There was an entrance to the emergency stairs next to the wall the elevators were on. From there she heard the slither, slither of something being pulled across the floor, in addition to ragged breathing.

“Wh—”

—o is it? She wasn’t even able to ask, because then she saw it crawling out of the stairway exit.

There was something there. Not someone, but something. It clearly wasn’t a person. Its bottom half had been ripped off, its left arm was missing from the shoulder, the right half of its face had been blown away, and the remaining parts had been carbonized, toasted to a crisp by high temperatures. Something that could still be moving despite all that couldn’t be called a person.

Creeeeaak. She could swear the half of a face faltered for a moment.

For some reason, it looked like it was tilting its head in confusion…and the instant Index thought it was out of place, it used its one remaining arm to slam on the floor and fling itself at her.

“…”

It’ll bite my throat. When Index immediately went to back away from the cannonball shooting toward her, she tripped over the collapsed knight with her leg. Her body toppled over with it. The thing, having momentarily lost its target, was about to fall from its position and land atop Index, and—

“Shatter.”

Suddenly, the frozen space resounded with a dignified male voice.

It was instant. The elevator wall across from her crumpled like a paper door, and a man’s hand reached out from it. The large fingers grabbed the thing’s carbonized, half-destroyed head like it was grabbing a ball.

Right then.

Before Index’s upturned eyes, the thing’s body shattered, just as the voice had declared.

The scene looked like hardened ash falling apart. Crack. Three fissures split the thing’s body first, then scattered it into the wind like powder snow. Before it all came down on Index’s face below, every bit of it melted into air.

“Open.”

The voice again. The door torn from within opened to either side. It was distorted. There had been no pockets for the metal door to fit into.

The ultimate magic, which would overwrite the nearby reality according to his own words.

“Was that…,” Index whispered, flabbergasted. As if he paid no mind to her, a tall man stepped out of the elevator. He had combed-back green hair and wore a stark white Italian suit and expensive leather shoes.

“Well, well. We meet again, though I suppose you do not remember even if you hear that. It is unavoidable. You would have no recollection of the name Aureolus Isard. No—in fact, for me, that must be none other than a godsend.”

There were many marks that looked like bugbites covering the neck of the man seemingly trying to make small talk or something. The concept of acupuncture needles—those eastern medical instruments—would at first seem to be out of place with a westerner, but that wasn’t actually the case. There was that story about the founder of the western sorcerers’ society, Stella Matitina, willfully adopting Buddhism.

“Well, even should you not remember, I shall not go without saying it. We meet again, Index of Prohibited Books. As always, you appear to remember nothing, and as for me, I am most pleased to see you haven’t changed.”

The man reached out his hand as if to blind Index, who was looking up at him, dazed.

The magic hand—the one that had smashed that thing that was neither human nor monster in one fell swoop.

However, Index couldn’t move a muscle. She only said:

“Are you…maybe…the golden Ars Magna?”

The man smiled softly in reply.

2

“Let’s go back already.”

After Kamijou joined up with Himegami by going all the way around the four buildings for lack of a way to cross the golden lava, he expressed his opinion to her in an utterly exhausted voice. “I beat that Aureolus guy. I didn’t kill him or anything, but he’s done for. He definitely can’t fight anymore. It’s not his physical wounds—His soul is dead.

“So let’s go back,” he said.

He had lost something he needed to protect. He couldn’t save the students being used for the Gregorian Choir anymore. He had settled the score with the alchemist. He didn’t have a reason to keep fighting. He wanted to go home as fast as he could and be away from this whirling death zone.

I want to go home. I want to go home now and have dinner with Index. Everything is fine if I’m with her. If I can see her again, I can still go home. Before I get pulled back into this war zone…before this world where death and slaughter is normal takes me prisoner…If I don’t go back to my world, my everyday life, I will lose it all. Kamijou’s thoughts were vague, but he was certain of them.

But evil shadows were settling into his weary head.

One was that, according to Stiyl, Index had been losing all her memories every year.

One was that, according to Stiyl, Index found a new partner every year.

One was that, according to Stiyl, Index forgot about that, too, every year.

It was obvious when he thought about it, but there, Index was smiling…

…and all around her were so many people who needed her.

He hadn’t said it out loud, but Stiyl Magnus had been saying this between the lines:

Don’t get the wrong idea. That girl isn’t your property or anything.

“…Ugh…Kh!”

Dizziness assailed Kamijou all at once, and he put his hand on the wall. The thought that he was looked at here as one of those many others around her gave birth to the sensation that his path back to a normal life had been cut off.

…What a sick desire to have a heroine.

Kamijou knew that glimmers of self-hatred in extreme situations can slide into self-destructive wishes, like self-sacrifice and feelings of suicide. He intentionally took a deep breath and calmed himself down, then decided not to think about any of it—he realized that if he walked any farther down that road, it would inevitably destroy him inside.

For now, let’s take Himegami and get out of here, he thought with a sigh, but…

“That Aureolus Isard. He was probably a fake.”

Aisa, unimaginably, said this like it wasn’t a big deal.

“Wha—”

“Body double. I can tell, since I’ve met the real thing. The real thing doesn’t kill people so rashly.”

Himegami’s words slowly but surely sank into him.

She was right. Now that he thought about it, it was strange. He knew that the alchemist was using Misawa Cram School as cover—if he had all the students destroy themselves for his Gregorian Choir, that cover would be blown.

Nevertheless, Kamijou’s mind jammed on the brakes. He wasn’t thinking clearly. He’d already decided to go home. That’s why he was able to keep his cool. Reentering the battleground despite that was an order he just couldn’t comply with at this point.

“Wait, just wait! What are you talking about? I definitely took down Aureolus Isard!”

“I’m saying that was a body double,” Himegami maintained definitively. “The real one always uses acupuncture needles. He didn’t have any, so he was a fake. And besides. The real one isn’t that crude.”

Kamijou couldn’t accept that. He didn’t want to. His logic developed from the basis of his desire to go home, so he couldn’t possibly concede the existence of any more enemies right now.

“However. That one has no interest in anything but his own goal. If you want to leave, he wouldn’t stop you.”

Himegami’s words were just too calm, and they finally put a stop to his internal complaining.

But she just said something odd.

“Wait a sec. You’re coming with me, you know? Aureolus would never let us leave as long as he’s intent on keeping you, the Bloodsucker Killer.”

“Why not?”

“What do you mean ‘why’?”

“I didn’t mean, ‘Why wouldn’t he let us go?’ I meant, ‘Why am I coming with you?’”

“Wha—?”

That put him at a loss. This late in the game, now that they’d finally evaded the enemy for the time being, Himegami apparently still wasn’t thinking of getting away from this school.

“Don’t take it the wrong way. I have my own goal. It isn’t to get out of here. I can only realize it if I’m here. Or rather. It would be more correct to say that the goal is impossible without that alchemist.”

Her words were decisive. It even sounded like she viewed Aureolus as an acquaintance.

What the heck? thought Kamijou. In psychology, it was mentioned that it was possible for an odd sense of solidarity to develop between a criminal and his hostage in extreme situations like kidnappings and barricading incidents—was this like that?

“But whatever your goal is, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t see you as a friend or anything. If he did, he wouldn’t be locking you away and barricading himself in here.”

“That was before Misawa Cram School was hijacked.” Himegami’s eyes were resolute. “Did you hear what kind of treatment I got here originally? Like why there are hidden rooms all over the building? You are probably too normal to be able to endure it.”

“…”

“After that alchemist came. The hidden rooms stopped being used. I’ve just been here. I haven’t left only because I don’t feel the need to. If I just left the barrier, I would call them.”

Kamijou thought back to Stiyl’s ramblings from before they entered the Misawa School.

This place was a barrier, perfectly concealed to look like a featureless, ordinary building from the outside.

Deep Blood.

Vampires were a legend among sorcerers, and she had the power to kill them instantly. Was she…

“Then what is it? Are you telling me you’ve been hiding here the whole time in order to avoid needless battle? Since you didn’t want the vampires or whatever to notice you?”

“…My blood. It doesn’t just defeat them. It lures them with a sweet scent. It invites them. It gathers them. It kills them. My job is that sequence of actions, like a vividly colored bug-eating plant. It’s who I am.”

Kamijou’s eyes widened.

Vampires—they caused even Stiyl to shiver at the taboo of just speaking their name. Aisa Himegami—she had an immense power that could smash even vampires to pieces with one blow. But when she said that, her voice had the loneliness of standing out in a cold rain.

“Vampires. Do you know? What kind of creatures they are?”

Even if asked, Kamijou didn’t know. What came to mind was a mental image of an evil creature that attacks people in picture books, and besides, the word vampire didn’t even strike him as real.

“They’re not different from us,” Himegami said, however. “They’re no different. They cry. They laugh. They get angry. They get happy. They smile at others. They can take action for others. They’re people like that.”

Himegami smiled softly, as if she was remembering something pleasant.

“But,” she continued, her smile vanishing instantly. “My blood. It kills them. There’s no reason. It’s because they’re there. Without exception. Without exemption. They cry. They laugh. They get mad. They get happy. They smile for others. They can take action for others. Those people. Without even one exceptionit destroys them.”

Her words dripped with blood.

It was the voice of someone who had crushed every enjoyable memory before her eyes.

“Academy City is a place to control powers. So I thought they would know the secret behind this power, too. I thought if they knew the secret. Then there would be a way to remove it, too. But I didn’t find any of those things,” she told him. “I don’t want to kill anymore. If I must kill someone. I decided I would kill myself first.

“So it’s fine this way,” she finished.

The one girl, named Deep Blood, said this all by herself.

“But just because…”

“Please don’t say anything. Besides. It’s not all bad. Aureolus said he could create a simpler barrier. It’s called the Walking Church. It’s a barrier in the form of clothing. If I wore that. I could walk through the city without calling them to me anymore.”

“…”

“I have my goal. And Aureolus has his. We can’t accomplish our goals. Without each other. So I’m okay. Aureolus cannot do me harm. As long as Aureolus wants to grant his own wish. If you want to leave this battlefield by yourself. I’ll lend you my aid. I’ll explain to Aureolus.”

Kamijou could not say anything anymore.

He didn’t understand what suffering this girl was going through. He didn’t understand how to save her. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do.

“…Just…tell me one thing.” He didn’t know, so he asked her. “When we first met, if you didn’t want to call vampires, why did you leave here and binge eat?”

“It’s simple. The reason Aureolus wants me. Is because he wants vampires. If I’m always inside the barrier. I can’t summon them.”

“But isn’t that exactly what you don’t want to do? You don’t want to hurt vampires anymore, right? Then why would you listen to some stupid order telling you to summon—”

“Yes. But Aureolus promised. He wanted vampires. But he definitely won’t hurt them. He just wants them to help.”

“…The hell, man. And here I thought I had barely escaped Misawa Cram School with my life for sure.”

“…A question. You said you were running. Why did you come all the way here?”

“I came to rescue you, duh. Do I need a reason for that?”

Kamijou’s expression turned sulky, making Himegami’s eyes grow large.

She was making a face like she got a present for her birthday when even she had forgotten about it.

“That is strange. But nothing’s wrong. Because I’m not being locked up. So you can rest easy and go home. No problem.” Himegami smiled a little. “Aureolus said. He has someone he wants to save. But his own strength isn’t enough. No matter how much he tries. He needs their help. So I promised him. I would help Aureolus. To use my power. Not to kill but to help. For the first time in my life.”

“…”

Was that true? Even if she wasn’t telling any lies, it was more than possible that Aureolus was. After all, he was a murderer. This vortex of death and slaughter was something he created. There were too many places where what she was saying and the reality in front of him didn’t add up.

But even so, if…

If Aureolus Isard was the person Aisa Himegami said…

“…He can’t do that.”

“?”

“If Aureolus Isard really is how you say he is…if he still hasn’t become a complete monster and has even a little humanity in him…then I can’t let him make any more mistakes. I’m not gonna say that people who mess up once are beyond all help, but if you let Aureolus go on like this, you’re really going to regret it.”

Himegami didn’t say anything.

She should have actually realized it, too. There was a gap forming, separating the ideals Aureolus embraced from reality. It was plain to see just by looking at this battlefield. His very ideal to do no harm was going down the drain.

“This is criticism. By what thoughts would you offer objection to my ideas?”

However, just then a man’s voice befell them, cutting his thoughts short.

Ring. The voice was like a sanctuary in itself. It disrupted Kamijou and Himegami’s chat and brought forth silence.

It was a soft voice, like someone had whispered in his ear. The voice’s owner, though, was nowhere to be found. He could only express it as a voice that did not use air as a medium, completely violating the laws of physics.

Click came the sound of footsteps.

They were from behind Himegami, but they were at least thirty meters down the straight hallway.

There shouldn’t have been anyone there.

There shouldn’t have been anyone there, but when Kamijou blinked once, someone was indeed there.

There was nowhere he could have hidden.

He stood there placidly, as if to say he hadn’t been concealing himself from the beginning.

“You…”

Kamijou doubted his own eyes.

From out of the void appeared the Aureolus Isard that he should have already beaten, and with all his limbs attached—in fact, he didn’t seem to have a scratch on him.

Did he use some special technique to heal his wounds? Kamijou wondered. But that would be strange, too. No matter how he recovered from his injuries, humans couldn’t change in quality like this. Though he had the same form, the “person” inside didn’t feel the same, as if Kamijou were looking at a twin brother with a different personality.

And this overpowering presence…

Despite Aureolus being thirty meters down the hall, the very fact that he was there weighed down on Kamijou to the point of despair, like he’d already slid a knife between his ribs.

A human incarnation of the term the real thing, along with all its connotations—that’s what was standing there.

This is dangerous, thought Kamijou on the spot. He’s dangerous. He’s the game master. There’s no way I can beat him by his rules, inside this barrier. That’s why, however, Kamijou tried to move around Himegami to cover her—for him, there was no option to sacrifice her and run.

But then…

“I am tranquil. Without impediment, I head there now.”

Before Kamijou could take a single step, Aureolus had already closed the distance of thirty meters to cut between Kamijou and Himegami.

“Wha…?!”

Any understanding Kamijou might have had of the situation went out the window as he froze in the presence of Aureolus, now right in front of him. The alchemist didn’t have quick feet. It was like he just cleaved space and appeared there all of a sudden.

It was as if Kamijou were watching a movie that skipped a frame.

“It is clear. I am sure many questions come to mind, but I have no duty to answer,” the alchemist stated calmly. “The blood of Himegami is something very important to me. I have no intention of handing her over to you without resistance; therefore, I have come to pick it up.”

Pick it up. The phrase somehow succeeded in reigniting Kamijou’s thought processes.

“…Damn you!!”

He couldn’t stand down after coming this far. For now, he would tear the mastermind, Aureolus, away from the captive, Himegami. Thus, he ran forward. There was less than two meters separating them in the first place.

However…

“You shall not—” declared the alchemist in an unhurried voice, “—come any nearer to me.”

In that instant, a dramatic change occurred.

An onlooker wouldn’t have seen any alteration. But that lack of change was the bizarre part. Kamijou had been running at full speed trying to join the two meters…but he wasn’t getting anywhere. It was like he was chasing the sun setting on the horizon—run as he might, the distance never shrank.

He was under the illusion that Aureolus and Himegami were sliding away from him in a hallway that went on forever.

He panicked. He considered the Imagine Breaker in his right hand. It had the ability to erase any abnormal power, even God’s own miracles, but…

Then…what the hell am I supposed to punch?!

“It is unavoidable,” Aureolus said without emotion. “What about me do you claim would cause her regret?”

A chill ran down Kamijou’s back and he stopped moving. He couldn’t get close. While he understood that, his body had apparently judged it dangerous to even try to get any closer.

Aureolus stared intently at Kamijou’s expression with eyes devoid of feeling, like he was staring at an insect on a specimen table and was stabbing one pin after another into it.

Suddenly, Aureolus brought a single, hair-thin needle out of an inner pocket of his white suit. Kamijou’s nose detected the faint scent of disinfectant. He put the needle he had picked against his neck, then casually stabbed it in. The motion was like he had flipped a switch for hypnotic suggestion.

Everything about that movement screamed “execution order.” Kamijou flinched and tried to leap back.

However, Aureolus flung the needle he had stabbed into his neck to the side, saying:

“It is unsatisfying. Boy—how boring you are.”

Kamijou, still trying to back away, immediately found himself unable to open any more distance between him and Aureolus, no matter how much he withdrew. He was shocked at this queer reality. It wasn’t displaying a millimeter of change, whether he advanced or retreated.

So, unable to do anything about the enemy in front of him, he felt like his heart would burst out of sheer nervousness. Aureolus stuck out his right hand without a word, stopping just before Kamijou’s chest—as if to grab something…as if to gouge out his heart.

And the alchemist sternly—

“Blow—”

“—Wait.”

—tried to declare something, but Himegami suddenly squeezed between them and her voice interrupted his.

Kamijou was speechless. Himegami was standing between him and the true alchemist with such overwhelming power, without any preparation, positioning herself as Kamijou’s shield.

You…moron…! Don’t be doing this!

Kamijou desperately tried to push Himegami out of the way, but he couldn’t draw even a millimeter closer to her. His entire body trembled with a sense of danger, like a clueless child walking up to a robber with a handgun…

But just then, he remembered what people referred to Aisa Himegami as.

The Bloodsucker Killer.

Vampires could make Stiyl start shaking in his boots, and in turn, the power of Deep Blood could crush those vampires in one blow. In this situation, her presence was the trump card joker—the kind that can overturn a game’s balance with a single shot.

A chance to win…?

…Is there one? If not, then she wouldn’t be doing something crazy like this, he thought.

However, Aureolus looked at Kamijou with an expression of boredom.

He didn’t even spare a glance toward the joker, Deep Blood.

“It is clear. You may embrace a meager ray of hope, but Deep Blood is not my enemy.” There was no sentiment in his voice. “It is natural. Why does Aisa Himegami possess the name Deep Blood? An ability so strong it can kill a vampire—ah, yes, I see. While true, if she had a power to that extent, the nickname ‘Bloodsucker Killer’ wouldn’t fit, no? If that were the case, I believe a name like ‘Overkiller’ would not be inaccurate.”

…Does he mean…

The panic trying to steal Kamijou’s last hope rapidly closed in around his thoughts.

“It is inescapable. Deep Blood, whose blood lives to reject, is a power used only against vampires. It is not a variety of superhuman strength; its identity is nothing more than her blood. It lures with a fragrant aroma—a red color, one that will return to ash any and all who drink of it. Terrifying is its brutal level of seduction. But he shall still die, for he must drink. It is obvious, however. It brings no harm to humans. Only the descendants of Cain revert to ashes when bathed in the light of the sun.”

Aureolus said all this while taking another needle out of his pocket and stabbing it into the back of his neck. Kamijou couldn’t tell what sort of effect it had on him, but a glint of uplift appeared in the alchemist’s emotionless eyes.

“Hah. You planned to denounce me with that attack, but it changes nothing. At the very end, you cling to, rely on, and pray to Deep Blood, not Aisa Himegami. How is that different from me?”

Slash. Those words stabbed deeply and mercilessly into Kamijou.

With those words, he ruined the spirit of someone who kept trying to struggle, even though knowing that it was pointless, useless.

However…

“That isn’t true. This person did not even know what Deep Blood meant. He also didn’t know what vampires really were. This person only came here because. He simply wanted to save another person he had just met today. We haven’t even exchanged introductions. He just couldn’t leave me here.”

The one pleading with him was not Kamijou but Himegami.

She spread her arms wide as if to become a shield to block him from Aureolus’s words. “Aureolus Isard. What is your goal?”

The alchemist’s eyebrow moved ever so slightly at Himegami’s words.

“He is neither a sorcerer nor an alchemist. You got an ordinary person involved. Is your goal to punish him unjustly and satisfy yourself with his death?”

“…”

“If something that petty is your goal. I’ll take my leave. I know that I can’t hope to beat you. But even I have the option of biting my tongue to end my own life.”

“…”

“I don’t want to kill any more vampires. You are necessary. For my goal. If you say I cannot have your assistance. Then I have no more reason to live. Now, then. What will you do? Can you keep on living? Without my assistance?”

Himegami’s eyes were rock solid.

Her straightforward, equal stare almost made her look like the master of this castle.

Aureolus took yet another needle out of his pocket and thrust it into the back of his neck.

“It is obvious. I have no time to spare in a place like this,” the alchemist answered without interest. “I have things I must deal with. I suspect I should focus on dealing with the Index of Forbidden Books rather than this intruder. It would be easy just to crush her, but to be frank, I cannot get used to how to treat that thing no matter how much time goes by.”

Aureolus’s mutterings were casual, but Kamijou’s breath caught in his throat.

…Wait. Index of…Forbidden Books? Could this guy have—?!

Kamijou tried to grasp at Aureolus in a desperate attempt to overturn the situation. But he didn’t come even a hair’s width closer. The alchemist’s hand, which he had lowered before, turned to point at him again.

Himegami took a step toward Aureolus as if to challenge him, but the alchemist continued without feeling:

“Fear not. I shall not kill him.” He removed the needle from his neck. “Boy, everything that has happened here—”

Damn it, this is no joke! I can’t retire here now! Not like this!

But the alchemist smiled faintly, as if he was reading his mind, and said:

“—Forget it all.”

3

It was now night around him.

“?”

Kamijou rose from his seat and took a look around. Seat? When he glanced about, he realized he was inside a school bus. He looked at the route map, but it wasn’t going anywhere close to his dormitory. He followed the line back to the name of the previous stop. The words “School District 7—Misawa School Front” were written there.

In general, the last trains and buses in Academy City were all aligned with the curfew, 6:30 PM. It was out of the ordinary for a bus to be running at night like this. Maybe it was a private bus the prep school had arranged.

“Misawa Cram School?”

Kamijou tilted his head. Is that the name of a cram school? Why was I sleeping in a place like this? he thought. He had no idea. He’d never be commuting to a prep school in the first place. He was Touma Kamijou—he wasn’t even “suited” for the summer holiday homework, much less studying for exams.

For a moment, the word amnesia popped up in the back of his mind, giving him a chill. He thought at first that it was just that his memories of the past had disappeared, but maybe he was in a more serious situation.

“…I’m going to the hospital,” he told himself, deciding to get off the bus whose destination was unknown. He’d see where getting off at the closest stop took him, but he still didn’t recognize any of the neighborhood.

His sense of balance was fine, and he wasn’t bothered by any weird urges to go to sleep. He seemed to be healthy at a glance, but having a gaping hole in his memories of the last few hours meant that he should definitely go to the hospital and get a proper checkup.

Which means I’ll need my insurance card, I’ll need to go back to the dorm first…No, wait, is the hospital still receiving patients this late? Well, this is an emergency, oh, but how will I explain to Index? She will definitely think something’s up if she knew I suddenly went to a hospital, besides that, she’s probably pissed that she didn’t get dinner…

His head a jumbled mess, Kamijou decided to go back to the student dorms for now. The buses going through this station wouldn’t pass by the dorms. What rotten luck, he thought to himself, when…

…he turned around suddenly, feeling like something had called him…in the direction of Misawa School.

“?”

Kamijou craned his neck to the side. That’s weird. I feel like I’m forgetting something important. It was a sense of irreversible danger, like he’d left to go on a vacation but forgot to shut off the gas. The back of his head felt like it was steadily burning up. But why? thought Kamijou, mulling over the faraway Misawa School he couldn’t see yet.

“Well, I guess if I can’t remember, it’s just not worth remembering,” he said noncommittally, resuming his walk.

He hadn’t eaten in a while, but he couldn’t very well avenge himself for the food. At the moment, he needed to find a way to soothe Index’s nerves. Probably with one of those Kuromitsu House puddings that are seven hundred yen a pop or something. The unanticipated cost hit him. Damn, why did I buy that stupid 3,600 yen reference guide? he thought, sighing, scratching his head noisily.

…With his right hand, which could cancel out all supernatural forces, even miracles.

Bagrikk. The events of the day came storming into his mind with a sound like his skull was being split.

“…!”

Kamijou turned around in alarm.

Night had already fallen on the city. Maybe it was because he was one bus stop away, but he couldn’t even see Misawa Cram School from here. How many hours had passed since then? Stiyl was nowhere to be found. Himegami wasn’t here, either, nor was Aureolus. Andneither was Index.

“Forget it all.” With just those words, Aureolus had actually made him forget everything until just now. He forgot about the Misawa School, which was now a battlefield; about Himegami, who had been kidnapped by Aureolus; and…him saying something about obtaining the Index of Forbidden Books.

“Shit!”

He didn’t know what had happened in those few hours. Stiyl was still in the school by himself—was he okay? With all those thoughts bouncing around in his head, he ran toward it.

Highly confused and sprinting at full speed, he didn’t catch on at first. To the fact that he wasn’t running into anyone, despite dashing as fast as he could…to the fact that there wasn’t anyone to hamper his path in the first place…and to the anomaly that, even though it was nighttime, Academy City’s shopping district was empty.

…What?

By the time Kamijou finally realized how strange that was, he was already in sight of the Misawa Cram School buildings, towering into the night sky.

He was downtown, but the space was devoid of human presence. He recognized this particular out-of-place feeling. It was the same sensation he had gotten when Stiyl brought out the Opila barrier this afternoon.

But this time, it wasn’t that nobody was here.

In a far stranger twist, there was a handful of people standing, encircling the school.

…What?

Kamijou stopped and turned back. There was someone standing a little ways off from him. He didn’t even know if they were male or female; they were attired completely in silver armor, right from the top of their head down to their toenails.

No passersby were in the area. That made the bizarreness stand out even more. From his viewpoint there were three of these armors, and if they were actually trying to surround the four Misawa School buildings, there would be many more than these.

…What is this? Those people are wearing some weird outfits…Are they from the Church?

It bugs me. He figured that he’d try and talk to one of the people in armor first. The situation may have changed in some way while he bumbled around without any memories.

“Hey, what’s going on? Are you people friends with that Church or whatever?”

He asked suddenly, remembering the knight who had passed away near the elevators.

One of the corpse-like suits of armor gave a start at the word church.

“—I am Bittorio Cassela, ‘the Lancelot’ of the Thirteen Knights of the Roman Orthodox Church.” If anything, he seemed troubled. “Hmph. You’re that civilian who left the war zone by coincidence. We’ve already seen you leaving that fortress. You sure do have some good luck. If you don’t want to die, then evacuate at once.”

What is this jerk talking about? he thought, observing the full suit of armor very carefully.

“We said that we do not wish to cause unnecessary deaths. We have judged that there is no need to broaden the casualties without purpose, even if we were to conduct a prayer bombing using the Gregorian Choir.”

Kamijou was stunned.

The Gregorian Choir was the thing being used inside Misawa School, being performed by using a huge number of students. According to Stiyl, it had originated in the Roman Orthodox Church.

“It was originally the ultimate weapon of the Roman Orthodox Church. They’d assemble 3,333 monks in a temple and gather their prayers for one huge spell. It would cause the magic power to skyrocket, just like focusing sunlight through a magnifying glass.”

Stiyl’s words came back to life in the back of his mind. If a replica had that much power, then just how much destructive power did the original contain?

“Bombing…That’s insane! How powerful would that be?! You’d get swept away just for being in there?! You can’t be planning to blow away the entire building!”

“That is exactly what we will do. Our divine art has been prepared in the Great Temple of the Vatican, the highest hallowed ground in the world, using the prayer of 3,333 people. It can revert any zone on the planet precisely into ash. Leaving that apostate’s tower be would surely affect our dignity.”

“That’s…nuts. Wait, there’s a ton of unrelated students in there! Stiyl and Himegami, they might still be in there, too, and even Aureolus”

Aureolus apparently only wanted to summon forth vampires in order to save someone.

“And if you just blow up that humongous building, where do you think the debris is gonna fly?! Huge chunks of stuff’ll shoot all over a six-hundred-meter radius like cannonballs!”

“A righteous end justifies the means. Consider the blood to be shed the cornerstone for the future.”

Those words nearly pushed Kamijou over the edge.

What he said one moment before and what he said one moment after were completely different. They told Kamijou, a civilian, to flee lest he be caught up in it, and yet here they were, not giving a damn about the people inside Misawa School. It was too inconsistent.

“You’re insane! One of your own comrades is inside that building!”

“…Percival has been martyred in a foreign land and has let his own blood flow to become the rock upon which tomorrow will be built.”

Kamijou thought back to the dead knight near the elevators.

The words of this fully armored person trembled and were filled with madness. He had lost all ability to think rationally.

“Damn it, wait! Then just give me time! One hour—no, thirty minutes will do!”

“I will not listen to your words! Begin the attack!!”

The knight calling himself Lancelot raised the long sword at his side toward the heavens. It glowed in pale red. It’s like some kind of antenna, Kamijou thought.

The armored man swung down the “antenna” before Kamijou could leap at him.

“A reading from the Revelation of John, chapter eight, verse seven—”

As if to signal something.

“Recreate the sound of the first angel sounding his trumpet here!”

He didn’t know if it was an effect of the magic, but like a howl, the glistening sword sounded a trumpetlike noise throughout the night sky…

All of a sudden, every sound disappeared.

The thinly sliced clouds floating along in the night sky appeared to be completely blown away.

To others, it would have probably looked like a giant bolt of lightning. A huge pillar of light, coming from the heavens down onto the world below. But the bolt was red like blood. Hundreds, if not thousands of bundled red arrows of fire all fused together to form a single, enormous lance, and in one fell swoop, it stabbed into one of Misawa School’s four buildings.

The holy spear of crimson struck through from the roof of the building to its basement in the blink of an eye.

Just like stepping on an empty soda can, the building was squashed down to half its original height nearly instantly. Its glass all shattered, and interior objects came hurling out of the windows.

The detonation didn’t stop. Only one building had taken the hit, but it was connected to the buildings next to it via raised walkways. The first building dragged the two adjacent to it down by the bridges joining them, forcing them to collapse. The last building remained standing like some sort of tombstone.

Kamijou was dumbstruck at the lunacy.

People fell out every time fissures ran through the crushed walls of the building, like a beachgoer shaking the sand out of his trunks. It didn’t end there. Tons of debris were raining down like meteors, even destroying some of the neighboring structures. The only saving grace was that no one was around due to the Opila.

“Damn it, this is nuts…”

Kamijou clenched his teeth. Stiyl was in there, Himegami was in there, and lots of other students and teachers, and Aureolus, too—and even Index might have been in there.

“You goddamned lunatic!!”

Kamijou sprang into a dash. Not toward that armored guy—there was no time to waste on something like that. He charged straight at the site of the bombing.

A sandstorm of fine particles assailed him as if to obstruct his way. He couldn’t see in front of him. He mustn’t open his eyes. But he still ran, thinking that the reality he was presented with was some kind of joke.

But suddenly, a change occurred.

“?”

The first thing Kamijou felt was the building particles blocking his vision being pulled back. The storm of particulate matter began to flow forward as if whipped up by a gale—right toward the demolished school.

“?!”

No—it wasn’t only the particles. The fragments flung all over floated into the air, and collapsed walls rose up. The connecting pieces fitted together like a jigsaw puzzle, and their damage began to close up as if being fixed up with a spatula and clay.

It was like he was watching a video rewinding. The fallen building lifted itself up. The people who had been tossed out and had fallen began being sucked back into the fissures, and the damage to the building started to repair as well. The next thing he knew, like nothing had happened, Misawa School’s four buildings were standing there again. Even the buildings nearby that were destroyed by the blown-away cannonball debris were back. It was enough to make him think that even the contents of his memories had been altered.

Wait, thought Kamijou.

Rewound…That means…?!

Kamijou looked up into the dark sky, and at that moment, a crimson holy lance fired out of the school’s roof as if drilling through the heavens. It was obvious where it had gone. As the rest, it rewound back to the caster.

“A-ah…”

He promptly looked to his side and saw the owner of the dumbfounded voice, the fully armored man. He was sitting on the ground, his legs having given out. Was it because he knew all too well the power of the real Gregorian Choir?

What is this? thought Kamijou, speechlessly looking up at the night sky. Even the seven Level Five Superpowers in Academy City couldn’t pull off a nonsensical miracle like that.

That’s…our enemy.

Aureolus Isard.

That’s…his true strength…

How am I supposed to fight someone that ridiculous? he thought, standing there speechlessly.

“Damn it!”

Kamijou ran toward Misawa School for now, as if trying to shake off the fear.

When he arrived at the automatic glass doors, he froze, stunned.

What he saw on the other side of the pane of thin glass was normal, and he couldn’t sense a single trace of destruction.

With dread, he passed through the door and reentered the battlefield.

Inside the school, it was the same as always, but the very fact that nothing had changed almost made Kamijou’s hair stand on end. That wasn’t all. The students within were unharmed and were taking classes like usual. It was like everything, including having been wounded by the Gregorian Choir and melted into puddles by the Limen Magna, had been undone.

As he ran past one of the classrooms, something caught his eye and he stopped.

That’s…!

A single female student was sitting near the back of the wide classroom. He knew her. She had braids and glasses—she was the one who had shielded Himegami and was melted by Aureolus’s Limen Magna.

There she was.

Copying down notes from the blackboard, rubbing her sleepy eyes, leaning on her hand.

There she was.

Living in a totally normal world, as if nothing had ever happened.

“…!”

The scene was incredibly peaceful, but it instead filled Kamijou with horror. If involved with Aureolus’s sorcery, everything would be reset this easily—life and death, fortune and misfortune, ordinary and extraordinary.

But for now, he still ran through the building. He wanted to make sure everyone was safe as soon as he could.

He didn’t know where he ran or how far.

He finally found a familiar face when he dashed out into a straight hallway on one of the floors.

“What’s up? You look pretty rattled.”

It was the voice of Stiyl Magnus, who had abandoned him, then used him as bait, but with a carefree grin on his face. Kamijou should have hated him, but at the moment, it reassured him more than anything else.

“Hmm. If you’re here, that meansthis is definitely Japan, then? I mean, there were Asians everywhere so I thought so, but what’s going on? This strange barrier construction…I remember the scent of this magic, but…”

Stiyl went on rambling to himself, disregarding Kamijou in front of him. It seemed like his memories had been erased, too, just like Kamijou’s. Wait, not exactly like them. He didn’t know why he was in Misawa School, which meant Stiyl’s memories had to have been erased going much further back than his.

He only needed to touch Stiyl’s head with his right hand to restore his memory. But when he thought that, he suddenly got worried. Wouldn’t the very fact that he was “brought back to life” from that bombing attack before be erased, too?

When Aureolus told him not to come closer, his right hand didn’t work at all. However, with a life on the line, he couldn’t take any chances.

“Hey, which of these buildings have you been in until now?”

“What?”

“Just tell me.”

“??? The north building, pretty sure. Why?”

Kamijou breathed a sigh of relief. The north building. Three of the four buildings had collapsed, but the north building continued to stand there awkwardly. Stiyl hadn’t been revived or anything in the first place.

Now that he knew that, things were simple.

“Hey, Stiyl, I’m gonna teach you a special prayer that will get rid of all your troubles.”

“…I think Kanzaki is the one that specializes in eastern spells, but sure.”

“Just listen. It’s simple, just shut your eyes and stick out your tongue. Say ahh.”

“???”

Though genuinely suspicious, Stiyl did as he was told.

Kamijou declared, “Congratulations! This is to commemorate you using me as a decoy and running away, you jerk!!”

“…Huh?”

Right after that, Kamijou let go a right uppercut to Stiyl’s chin, knocking it upward.

Stiyl Magnus simultaneously regained his memories, bit his tongue, and tumbled down to the floor.

4

Aureolus stood for a while on the top floor of the north building.

This uppermost story was a giant space using the entirety of the level, called the “principal’s office.” Perhaps due to the place being a preparatory school, though, its impression was closer to a president’s office than a principal’s.

Aureolus wasn’t directing his gaze to its extravagant interior.

He was staring out the window with his back turned to the glittering room, but he still wasn’t looking at the nightscape spread out beneath him, either.

He was peering at his own face reflected in the glass.

…How unforeseen, that they should have walked here from such a distant place.

He contemplated as he stared at his visage, which wouldn’t even twitch an eyebrow at seeing buildings lift themselves up like living creatures from his one statement—really only two words: “Go back.”

My old self was not like this, he thought.

He was the sort who had trouble expressing his feelings, but he thought he was once a human who was able to express everything from joy to anger, from grief to delight.

The skin on his face didn’t move an inch, and the light in his eyes didn’t waver a millimeter; it wasn’t out of serenity or composure, but simply because he didn’t have the flexibility to create expressions.

Even that I care not about, thought Aureolus.

Achieving his own mission meant all the world would be engulfed in an unremitting war, and that his emotions would be whittled away. He understood that.

Aureolus Isard just wanted to save one girl.

Behind him there was a large desk made of ebony, and on it was a girl who had been placed into a sleep.

Index Librorum Prohibitorum—the archive of forbidden books.

It had been three years since meeting the girl, who hadn’t even been granted the minimum requirement to be human: a name.

Aureolus Isard was a Cancellarius of the Roman Orthodox Church.

As one who penned grimoires yet still belonged to the Church, he was an exception among exceptions. He would reveal the evil ways of the witches around at the time, find methods to deal with them, put them into words, and make them into books—all the while believing his works would protect the innocent from the witches’ threat.

The volumes recorded by Aureolus had actually saved a great many people.

However, the Roman Orthodox Church made them into their very own trump cards. They did not tell anyone unrelated to Crossism, nor did they inform even other people of Crossism, like those of the Church of English Puritanism and the Russian Catholic Church. They implicitly declared that if they desired salvation from the witches’ threat, then they should convert.

As a result, many fell to the hands of the witches even though the alchemist had led them to solutions.

It was unreasonable, like not being able to give a sick person even the simplest of surgeries and watching him die.

Aureolus found it unforgivable. He had faith that the trump cards he devised would save everyone.

It wasn’t long before he made the decision to bring one of the books he authored outside the confines of the Church.

It was England, which had enough harm caused by witches that it was called the “land of magic.” With the utmost care, he wrapped himself in two or three layers of camouflage and succeeded in secretly establishing contact with people of the English Puritan Church.

There he discovered hell—in the form of a girl who could never be saved.

He knew it at first sight. It only took one glance for the alchemist who wished to save the entire world to understand that he would never be able to rescue this girl, even if he rescued all else.

The one girl carried 103,000 grimoires taken from around the world. Just one of those evil, wicked volumes could drive a normal person mad, and she carried as many as the stars in the sky—and even though she was aware she would never know salvation, she still smiled like a young girl.

In reality, the girl really couldn’t be saved. A human is not fundamentally strong enough to carry 103,000 grimoires. The girl’s body was violated by their poisonous knowledge, and her mind was trespassed by their poisonous insight.

It was so bad that her memories needed to be wiped annually to flush that venom.

That’s where the alchemist witnessed the end of his ideal.

She could still smile for others’ sake, despite all that misfortune being forced upon her by others.

The alchemist began to write grimoires in order to rescue just this one girl, continuing to trust that his books would save all the world, without exception. Whenever he finished writing one, he would go over to the English Puritan Church. And even if ten or twenty of them ended with failure, Aureolus never gave up, he still continued to write them.

At some point after he had forgotten how many grimoires he had completed, Aureolus took a moment to think about why his will never broke and why he continued to write them.

Doing that caused him to finally realize something.

From the moment he first saw her, he had considered her to be beyond salvation. “Providing grimoires” was but a front as to why he never gave up—the truth was that he only wanted to see her.

Nothing special.

The alchemist’s wish was to save her, and instead, she had saved him.

Once he knew that, the end was near. Aureolus got to the point where he could no longer hold a pen. Now that he realized he couldn’t even rescue one person, both his mission and his confidence were completely shattered.

She can’t be saved, she can’t be saved—no one can be saved with these methods.

If he still desired this girl’s salvation, his only path was to fall from grace.

He had but one reason for his fall.

If God had the power to save the entire world, then why couldn’t the girl in front of him be saved?

With that, Aureolus Isard made an enemy out of the Roman Orthodox Church, of Crossism, and indeed of the whole world. Even then, she couldn’t be saved. He dabbled in the Zurich school of alchemy, a type of Hermeticism, and even then, she could never be saved. He came to believe by fully decoding the human body, he could heal any sickness. He had believed that if he fully explored the human mind, he could heal any soul. Even then, she absolutely couldn’t be saved.

She was alone. Neither faith nor technology could save her any longer.

And that was why he thought…

Just why would it be wrong to rely on the power of the descendants of Cain, who have strayed from the path of man?

He would betray anyone for his purpose. He would use anything. He would even subdue Deep Blood with his own two hands.

That was how the alchemist wandered from the straight and narrow. What was left behind was the tragic wreckage of a man who wished for the salvation of others above his own.

“…”

However, there was one thing Aureolus Isard did not realize.

The person silently looking at his back—the girl named Deep Blood—was also here because she wanted to help someone.

Salvation was distant.

There were still no signs of the coming of a messiah.

“Aureolus reflected the Roman Orthodox Church’s real Gregorian Choir…? That’s impossible!”

Having finished chasing Kamijou around with a flame sword in hand, Stiyl was dumbfounded by what Kamijou told him.

“No, I’m serious. The busted buildings all got fixed like it was some kind of videotape rewinding,” answered Kamijou, running down the hall.

Stiyl seemed to have been able to probe more deeply into this place than Kamijou. Apparently, after locating Aureolus’s headquarters, his memory was erased, and he’d been wandering around the building since then.

“…That would mean…But that’s impossible for current alchemy…,” muttered Stiyl, annoyed, giving a puff of cigarette smoke.

“He said stuff like ‘don’t come closer’ and ‘forget it,’ too. What, is that kind of crazy stuff all over the place in the magic world or something?”

“…Of course not. Magic is an academic field—a world grounded firmly in theories and rules. If something that rule-breaking existed, the whole thing would be ridiculous, and no one would bother studying sorcery.”

“Then what the heck was that? He’s actually saying one word and the world changes into the way he wants it.”

“The way he wants it…Hmm. I don’t like the sound of that. It reminds me of Ars Magna.”

Kamijou briefly frowned at his odd reaction to the words “the way he wants it,” but then he remembered.

The power to warp the world into whatever you want—it was the ultimate objective of alchemy, and no one has yet accomplished it. Didn’t Stiyl explain that to him before?

“Wait. Then doesn’t that mean he mastered alchemy?!”

“That doesn’t make sense!” Stiyl shot back with unusual roughness. “I explained before that this Ars Magna isn’t a technique that humans can carry out. Even though the incantation itself is complete, just one or two hundred years wouldn’t be enough to recite it, even without sleep or breaks. There’s no excess that can be eliminated to shorten the thing, and if you tried passing down the work from parent to child to grandchild, the ceremony itself would be messed up like a game of telephone. Therefore, a human with a finite life span cannot use that sorcery!”

If Kamijou had studied magic, Stiyl’s argument probably would have sounded pretty sensible.

But the sorcerer’s voice was trembling—almost like he had witnessed something unbelievable.

“…Oh, I guess so.” Kamijou tried looking at it from a different angle. “If he can change the world to the way he wants it, then it’s kind of weird that we’re alive in the first place, huh? If he just thought die, that would be it. He wouldn’t have to use the Gregorian replica or a body double or anything.”

He wouldn’t need vampires or Deep Blood in the first place. If he needed them, he could just make them himself. And if he could change the world into whatever he wanted anyway, he could cut out the vampires entirely and just grant his wish through his own power.

“But jeez, what’s that guy trying to do, anyway? He wants to rescue someone or something, but then he just casually kills other people, and all of a sudden Index gets caught up in this…I wonder if all the unexpected stress from this incident is making him lose his mind.”

“What, that girl is?”

“He just mentioned something along those lines. I haven’t actually seen her. Maybe he was just going crazy and seeing things,” Kamijou replied lightly to reassure him—and to reassure himself.

However, Stiyl’s face fell even further than when they were discussing the alchemist. He spat out his cigarette like it tasted bad.

“Damn, I see. I get it now. If you’re away from civilization for three years studying magic, anyone’d be out of touch with the world.” As he held a new cigarette in his mouth, he finished, “I figured out what he wants. It’s Index.”

“Wha…?”

Kamijou didn’t get it. Index shouldn’t have been involved in this incident from the beginning.

“Listen up, Touma Kamijou. Index used to need her memories erased once a year. In other words, her human relations would all be totally reset annually, and a new partner would be at her side each time. That’s the kind of situation it caused.”

“Yeah, but…So?”

“This year it was you, two years ago it was me—” said Stiyl, truly exasperated, “—and three years ago, the name of her partner was Aureolus Isard. I believe he acted as her teacher.”

Kamijou was speechless.

“All her partners in the past ran into the same dead end. They all struggled desperately to put an end to her memory problems, and they always failed,” Stiyl growled. “Of course, he would have arrived at the same dead end…I see. So even when the results came in, he didn’t accept them.”

“…Meaning?”

“It’s simple. We, her past partners, haven’t been rejected by Index or anything. She just doesn’t remember. So it’s easy. If you could somehow heal Index’s mind and have her remember, she’d turn back to look at us again.”

Kamijou’s heart felt like it had been struck with a nail.

He didn’t know why the shock hit him. It would be great if Index’s brain was cured, right? He didn’t understand, and this hazy jolt didn’t seem to want to go away.

Her smile…

He didn’t think it would be this shocking to consider it being directed toward someone else.

“…But besides, that kind of thing is completely unacceptable,” Stiyl said quietly to himself. “If it’s wrong to erase someone’s memories, then it’s equally infernal to tamper with their memories. Is he really so far gone that he can’t understand that?”

His voice was low, so Kamijou looked at his face to try and hear.

But he gave a puff of cigarette smoke and shook his head, bored.

“It’s nothing. I was just saying that it’s absolutely impossible for him to save her.”

“What?”

Kamijou wasn’t sure what he meant. If the man could fix buildings, steal memories, and even rewind people’s lives, was anything impossible for him?

“This is another easy one—you’re the one who brought it all to nothing.”

“?”

“You saved her, didn’t you? You can’t save someone who has already been saved. That’s all there is to it. No hidden meanings here.”

“Oh,” said Kamijou, finally figuring it out.

Aureolus Isard was Index’s partner from three years ago. It had been three years since he lost her; without any communication with the outside world, he would have no information.

In other words, Aureolus was—

“We’re here. How polite; the door is open for us.”

Stiyl looked ahead.

The giant door to the principal’s office, the entire top floor of Misawa School’s north building, was ajar, as if to welcome them in.

5

It was a wide-open space.

This was the room in which the branch school principal and the founder of the scientific religion once sat. The room sparkled in beauty, but it had no class—fitting for such warped ambitions. A sense of revulsion was the only thing that stood out, as if they had wandered into a restaurant concerned with etiquette alone, ignorant of the proper way to wait on customers.

Himegami made a surprised face when she saw Kamijou enter into the room. On the contrary, Aureolus showed no emotion whatsoever. Something natural had naturally happened. That was all his expression said.

The air around them was terribly hollow. It was as empty as a timeworn, faded photograph.

That void likely reflected the alchemist’s own soul.

As a man who could manipulate the entire world, there probably wasn’t anything he couldn’t obtain.

But because of that, there was nothing certain for this man.

A skilled puppeteer—an esper with brainwashing abilities—would never think that just because everyone around them was smiling, that it was out of happiness. A puppeteer can create those very smiles with a single fingertip. Even when presented with the brightest of laughs, they could only think of it as what they could do just by moving a finger.

He was the same.

For someone who can create anything, he would never find meaning in what he created.

The mood here was not the kind that hangs over the field of a decisive battle.

This place in which Aureolus Isard stood would change into an empty and hollow war zone—that was all.

“Hmph. From your eyes, I can see that you comprehend my objective,” the alchemist started in a bored tone. “Then why, I ask, must you try and stop me? Your own objective, for which you engrave runes—is that itself not for the sake of defending and rescuing the Index of Forbidden Books?”

Aureolus glanced down.

In front of the alchemist, atop a garish desk, laid a silver-haired girl, put to sleep quietly.

Kamijou automatically tried to run toward her, but Stiyl’s long arm cut in from the side and prevented him from doing so.

“It’s pretty simple. That girl can’t be saved with those methods. She’s too important to give to a surgery we know will fail, got it?”

“Nay, I say. Your reasons are born from envy. It is natural. You cannot be satisfied, for you and I are kindred spirits who have lost their dreams and despaired, and yet I have outwitted you. I shall not call this worthless, because the fundamental truth of my own delusions is one and the same.”

Stiyl knitted his eyebrows a bit.

Aureolus Isard had said that smoothly, with no hint of sarcasm.

“Until this point, due to the all-too-extensive volume of information in the Index’s brain, she required her every memory to be erased each year. This is an unbreakable rule, and a fate the likes of man cannot hope to oppose,” Aureolus declared sternly. “However, this only means that one must make use of that which is not man. Now that I have arrived at this conclusion, it is instead a mystery—why has there not been a single soul to propose the use of vampires until now?”

“…”

“Vampires are that which have eternal life. That which continue to store memories, like humans, ad infinitum. However, never have I heard of such a vampire whose brain ruptured from too much information,” the alchemist said. “The vampires—they have it. They have a ‘technique’ to never losing themselves regardless of the quantity of information they collect.”

“Hmm, I see. So your plot is to jump in bed with vampires and have them teach you that method, then?” Stiyl wiggled the cigarette in the corner of his mouth. “A question, if you will. If that method turned out to be impossible to use on another human body, what would you do?”

“Obvious. If impossible for the body of a human—then one must only remove the Index’s body from humanity,” Aureolus answered without skipping a beat.

In other words, he meant—

“You’d get her bitten. Tsk. I doubt there’s a believer in the world who’d rejoice at being made into a plaything for one of the descendants of Cain. I’m gonna tell you something I have to tell all her other past partners as well—if you want to save someone, it’s vital that you remove yourself from the picture and learn what that person is feeling. Well, that’s something I only learned recently, too.”

“…Worthless. That is truly hypocrisy. This child said at the very end that she did not ever want to forget. She said she did not ever want to forget the memories in her heart, even if it should violate the scriptures, and even if she should die for it. She said this while her body was incapable of turning a finger, without even noticing the tears flowing from her eyes—and smiling all the while.”

Aureolus Isard looked somehow to be holding in his temper.

What was he remembering? What was he looking back on? Kamijou was in no position to know.

“So that won’t change your thoughts no matter what, eh. Well then, allow me to use my trump card. It’s a bit cruel, though.” Suddenly, Stiyl looked in Kamijou’s direction. “Go on, tell him, current partner. Tell this wreckage in front of us what his fatal flaw is.”

“…What?”

Aureolus looked at Kamijou for the first time.

What part of that line had touched a nerve? He couldn’t tell but said:

“Just what time period are you talking about, anyway?”

“Wh…at…” This time, Aureolus Isard stared at Kamijou intently.

“That’s how it is. Index was saved a long time ago—not by you, but by her current partner. This guy managed to achieve what you couldn’t.” Stiyl grinned in honest cruelty. “About a week ago, was it? Ah, well, I guess you wouldn’t have heard. After all, you weren’t at her side for three years. Of course you wouldn’t have gotten the message that she had actually already been saved.”

“Impossible…”

“Yeah, I can understand why you can’t believe it. I watched it happen directly myself, and I still don’t. Or maybe I just don’t want to? Since I’ve basically been confronted with the fact that she will never look back and see me again.”

“Impossible, infeasible! There is absolutely no method to save the Index! Pray tell, what do you claim a human could do when he is neither a magician nor an alchemist?!”

“The specifics are tied to the good name of Necessarius—or rather, the English Puritan Church itself—so I’ll stay silent on that, but let’s see.” Stiyl exhaled smoke with spite. “His right hand is called Imagine Breaker. Putting it simply, he’s the owner of a power that is more than he deserves.”

Astonishment.

The alchemist looked at Kamijou with an expression that made his serenity until now seem like it was a pipe dream.

“…Hold. That means…”

“Yes, good work, man. You’ve been hiding underground for three years since betraying the Roman Orthodox Church, but it was all a wasted effort. Well, I get your pain at your hard work not being rewarded, but don’t worry! Right now, just like you wished for, she seems very happy with her partner, you know?”

“Ha…”

That sentence was all it took.

Auroelus Isard began to laugh madly, as if everything supporting him had been destroyed.

“Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!!”

…There’s no going back for him now, Kamijou thought vaguely, yet with confidence. But he was wrong. To his broken clock–like eyes, light returned. In front of the alchemist, atop the large desk, something had started to move. The lone, sleeping girl Index had reacted to Aureolus’s insane mirth and awoke in a haze.

The last pieces of Aureolus’s final stronghold broke, and it began to sink.

Index opened her eyes slightly and, with the delicacy of raveling a thin strand of thread, queried:

“…Touma?”

Her eyes, however, did not look at Aureolus Isard, who was so close to her.

She didn’t know where she was, how long she’d been there, who had done this, or how she’d been brought here. She hadn’t even checked her own body, and she ignored the unease at thinking of what could have happened while she was passed out.

But she smiled. Her eyes narrowed as if she was very pleased.

Just because Touma Kamijou was in her sight.

“…Ah…”

Kamijou took a step back in spite of himself.

Index’s manner made him quite happy. She looked at him and him alone, rather than the rest of the world. The action felt irreplaceable, like a kitten who had just opened its eyes.

But at the same time, it was very sharp and cold.

Behind Index was the alchemist, who would have certainly been the main character once upon a time. He had been completely forgotten by the girl he needed to protect, and he was frozen with a face like he was watching the end of the world.

Kamijou couldn’t look directly at that reality.

Aureolus Isard—once the hero. He betrayed the Roman Orthodox Church, abandoned his faith to become an alchemist, and yet he still exhausted all his might trying to save just this one girl.

And yet a bad end awaited him.

If Touma Kamijou had made one mistake, this ending could have come to him as well.

She was a pure and saintly heroine, loved by everyone in the world…

But because she was the heroine, her kindness couldn’t be for anyone other than the world’s one protagonist.

That was all, and yet it was everything—those cool, realistic eyes of purity bared their fangs here.

“I should be perfect. Why do you have such composure? Am I at fault for something?”

Suddenly Kamijou remembered the words of the body double he defeated.

That was not some shoddy, poorly made copy. In fact, it was a mirror image of Aureolus Isard’s very essence.

“Kh…”

Aureolus Isard could no longer even form words.

He just smiled…with his face frozen in distortion and his breath escaping a little at a time like he had hiccups.

He raised his arm above Index’s head.

His stance was akin to a guillotine blade about to fall. Index, despite that, didn’t take her eyes from Kamijou. That seared through the alchemist’s mind excessively. He gathered strength into his uplifted arm.

“Index…!!”

Kamijou instantly tried to run to her. He was so panicked he didn’t know which foot to put in front of the other. The alchemist grinned like a madman. He looked at Kamijou, who indeed seemed like the protagonist.

He reached out with his right hand. But it was too far. He wouldn’t make it. With force, the alchemist…

…didn’t bring down his arm.

Kamijou stopped and watched in spite of himself.

“Ugh…”

Aureolus quaked, his arm still positioned above Index’s head like the blade of a guillotine.

“Uuh-uuuuuuuurrrrrgh!!”

Yet he still couldn’t move.

He had lost everything he had and even attacked former companions, all to try and save this one girl. A complete stranger had already saved her, and to make things worse, she didn’t even grant one look at the man who had abandoned everything for her sake.

In this situation…If it were Kamijou, would he be able to retain his faith in Index?

Could he stop himself from feeling like he had been betrayed?

Nevertheless, Aureolus Isard still couldn’t bring himself to harm Index.

The alchemist gave that much import to the archive of forbidden books.

“…”

Kamijou could not move.

He had no memories. He’d heard from others that he had apparently rescued Index, but he didn’t know how he did it or what feelings he’d had at the time.

He’d saved someone without knowing and had won her trust completely unaware.

With this man before him, he thought again: Just where was his right to monopolize her trust?

Keen. Aureolus set his glare upon him, even granting him the illusory sound of a sword being drawn.

This man could kill people with but one word. He knew that his glare was one of death, but somewhere in his heart, Kamijou was completely convinced. Aureolus’s furor had by no means been quelled. He was a raving madman with nowhere to go now that he couldn’t aim the angry outburst he wanted to let out at Index.

Then where exactly would he point the tip of his blade first?

It was incredibly obvious when he thought about it. He knew that this much would be completely natural.

“Grovel, intruders!”

A roar exploded from him.

Suddenly, Kamijou felt like dozens of invisible hands were holding him down, forcing him to kneel like a bank robber whose gun had been stolen. The word intruders probably included Stiyl, too—out of the corner of his eye, he could see the red-haired sorcerer also being beaten into the floor.

“Guh…gah…!”

Kamijou struggled for his life, fighting back the urge to vomit that came from the feeling of all his organs being pushed on. Little by little. He slowly brought his right arm toward his chest; it felt like it was bound by a strong electromagnetic force. One millimeter at a time. For now I just need to touch my body with my right hand. If I do that, then I might be able to get back my freedom of movement, just like when I got my memories back.

“Ha-ha-ha-aha-ha-ha-ha! I shall not kill you that easily. Allow me to take my time and enjoy this! I have no intention of laying hands on the Index of Forbidden Books, but if I do not take this out on you, I will lose myself!”

The alchemist removed a slender acupuncture needle from an inside pocket. Then, with trembling hands, he pressed it to the back of his neck and thrust it in. It was as if he were depressing a button in his body.

He threw the needle aside like he was batting away an insect biting his skin.

That was the trigger for the start of his attack. Aureolus glared at Kamijou and…

“Wait.”

Aisa Himegami stood in his way.

It was the exact same position she had taken once before, when she shielded Kamijou. But the situation was distinctly different. Aureolus had clung not to Aisa Himegami, but to Deep Blood. Now that his goal, Index, was no longer attainable, he didn’t need to pay any attention to a mere means to an end…!

“Hime—”

And yet, Kamijou couldn’t say it.

He could feel it from looking at her back. She was seriously worried—about Kamijou, of course, but also about Aureolus, who was steadily falling to pieces. Wordlessly, she was telling him that she somehow needed to set things right again before this came to an end they couldn’t take back.

He couldn’t possibly tell her a cold truth like that to her back.

“You are in my way, wench”

But that in itself was his failure.

Kamijou looked at Aureolus’s eyes; they made him think of gun barrels. Those eyes were serious. He moved his right hand in urgency. No, he tried to. If he didn’t stop this, then Aureolus would definitely get Himegami involved. Little by little, inch by inch, he forced his right hand to come up off the floor and pulled it to his face. He touched his index finger of his ultimate right hand to his tooth and bit down on it.

Crash! It sounded like all his bones had broken, and with it returned his body’s freedom. Now’s my chance, Kamijou thought, getting up. Now he had to push Himegami out of the way and make Aureol—

“Die.”

In that moment, his words made time stop.

Stabbed to death. Strangled to death. Poisoned to death. Shot to death, sliced to death, bashed to death, publicly executed, crucified, incinerated, suffocated, crushed, run over, frozen, drowned, bombed. He compared it to every single way of killing he knew, and yet it didn’t give him any insight as to the cause of Himegami’s death.

There were no wounds. There was no blood loss. There clearly wasn’t sickness.

She just died.

It was just like her batteries had run out. If such a thing as a soul really existed, it was like it had been removed from her body, leaving an empty shell.

She didn’t even scream.

Her body swayed heavily. It leaned backward, faceup—as if to show Kamijou her face—and she started to fall. Slowly. Slowly. Himegami’s face began to come into sight.

Himegami’s face was wrinkled and twisted into a smile.

One that seemed about to burst into tears even now, yet never showing a single drop. It wasn’t from sudden surprise or shock. That smile said that she was prepared for this, but she wasn’t able to change the outcome.

Aisa Himegami understood from the start that standing before Aureolus would bring this about.

But she had still clung to one last hope, smaller even than a ray, and tried to stop him.

No one had wanted her, and she was treated like an object until the very end.

In the same way the alchemist wasn’t able to become the hero, the death of Aisa Himegami “Deep Blood” was decided simply, as if removing a piece of humanoid scenery.

There was no way…he could just watch this silently.

Don’t you…

With the alchemist no longer in his sights, Kamijou darted toward the falling Aisa Himegami without a second thought. He didn’t have a reason. It just felt like if she hit the floor, that magical death would come into reality and never again be changed.

“—don’t you fucking give me that!”

Somehow, he was able to grab her body with both hands just before she crumpled to the ground. Her body was extremely light…like something very important had fallen out of it.

In his arms was the girl’s body, strangely soft.

But though weak, a pulse could definitely be felt…through the right hand he caught her with.

“Wha…Has your right hand annulled my Golden Forge?” The alchemist’s eyes froze. “Impossible. I have surely decided the death of Aisa Himegami. Does that right hand incorporate some heavenly mysteries?!”

“…”

Kamijou didn’t respond.

Whatever. I don’t care about your stupid logic. Just like when you got your stolen memories back by pure coincidence, you only canceled my order to “die” with that right hand. I don’t care about any of that stuff at all.

Kamijou couldn’t forgive this man.

He pitied him. He even sympathized with him. When he saw him unable to harm his precious Index after she had left him behind, he had even nearly lost sight of the reason he had to clench his fists.

But now that was out the window.

Even if he was betrayed by the most important person to him before his eyes. Even if he witnessed the moment the most important person to him was stolen. Even if he was tortured with rage, with nowhere to go, unable to even blame himself.

She was someone who had thought of him as truly important…

…and he had pushed his rage onto her to satisfy himself. He could never condone the way his brain was wired.

Kamijou didn’t understand a thing about the Touma Kamijou before his amnesia.

What memories did he have, what past had he journeyed through, and what feelings did he have as he pursued the future? What did he like, what did he hate, what on earth did he protect, and what in creation did he want to keep on protecting?

However, there was one thing he could say for sure.

Touma Kamijou could never accept this alchemist—no, this human.

That was how the two disjointed Touma Kamijous came together at last, after coming all this way.

“Fine, Aureolus Isard. If you think you can make anything go the way you want—”

Touma Kamijou slowly lowered Aisa Himegami from his arms to the floor. Then he stood back up. He was silent, and yet he did not hide his anger, which was so great that it could have given you a static shock if you touched him.

“—then first, I’ll crush your goddamn illusion…!!”

He made this declaration in the voice of Touma Kamijou, the one and only Imagine Breaker.

INTERLUDE TWO

That’s why I wanted to be a magician.

This story is from ten years ago. One day, one evening, a mountain village in Kyoto was attacked by vampires. It was completely sudden and unheralded, abrupt and illogical.

Though peaceful enough that even a police station would have been unnecessary, the small village was transformed into hell in a single night. The young ones who took up the mantle of fighting back against the vampires were buried one after another, and the remaining villagers gathered in one building. Those who attempted to escape from the village, unable to endure the terror, never returned. At the end, it was impossible to know who was a human and who was a vampire. The situation degraded into a quandary of promised companions killing one another.

Before dawn broke, the villagers were only divided into two categories: corpses and vampires.

Then how come I survived by myself? Who am I? thought the girl in her youthful mind. Vampires were surrounding her. They were the familiar older men and women she had just said good-bye to this evening.

The vegetable grocer who said, It’s dark now, so you should go home quickly, came to bite the back of her neck.

The moment he bit her, the vampire returned to ash.

Yuzuka, the girl who said, Let’s play again tomorrow, came to bite the back of her neck.

The moment she bit her, the vampire returned to ash.

Her mother, who pushed her out of the way and said, Run away quickly, came to bite the back of her neck.

The moment she bit her, the vampire returned to ash.

Soon, everyone began to notice it. If a vampire bit the girl’s neck, they would be extinguished, as if it was some counterattack. The girl’s wishes had naught to do with it. Vampires would melt away and disappear just by taking her blood into their mouth, as if it had become sulfuric acid.

In spite of that, no one stopped biting her.

One by one, the villagers turned into ash, lost their physical forms, and were blown away by the wind. The girl watched it silently.

Because of course she couldn’t say it.

Because all the vampires kept saying:

“I’m sorry.”

One said he didn’t want to become a monster, and another cried that she didn’t want to turn someone else into the same monster as her. They went on having faith that they had but one salvation: to return to ash.

The vampires returned to ash.

Saying, I’m sorry. Saying, I’m sorry for making you carry this sin all by yourself. Crying until the end. Unable to smile until the very end, without being saved until their very last moments.

When she noticed, the village was covered in a blizzard of ashes.

The village was at peace. No one was around, so it was at peace. Even the culprits, the vampires who had wandered into the village, were no more. She didn’t know when she had actually been bitten, but they apparently turned to ashes at some point.

The girl understood something in her gut.

Even the vampires who had attacked the town were victims. The vampires were probably very scared of the girl who had the power to kill them in one fell swoop, she thought. They trembled day after day, and they couldn’t take it anymore, and they decided they needed to kill her at all costs, and yet they didn’t have the power to do so.

After worries piled upon worries, they tried to assemble their forces by turning the entire village into vampires…

…But even that plan was easily annihilated by her power.

That’s why I wanted to be a magician.

To rescue those who couldn’t be rescued and protect those who had been abandoned. The kind of magician from storybooks, without rules and removed from common sense, who was able to save victims and criminals, and even drag the souls of those already dead back from the pit of hell.

At all costs. No matter what anyone said. She thought this for a long time: that she wanted to become a magician. This was all she wanted, and when she met the alchemist, the dream that she knew couldn’t be granted suddenly seemed to be just down the road, and she was bewildered. She was so nervous that day that she couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t an uncomfortable nervousness.

And now, in front of her, was the one alchemist.

“You are in my way, wench—” said the dream she strived for, the corners of his mouth twisting with malice.

“—Die.”

She didn’t know what she thought at that moment. Her consciousness didn’t last. While she didn’t know what she was thinking, her consciousness fell, slumping into a deep darkness.

But right before that…

“don’t fucking give me that!”

She could swear she heard a boy cry out.

Neither sorcerer nor alchemist, the boy shouldn’t have been any more than human.

The boy was really angry.

But it wasn’t at what the alchemist did. It was because she was going to die.

His figure somehow appeared blindingly radiant.

For some reason, she got the feeling that he was looking at her dream, which she could never hope to reach.