Meanwhile, no more than a few meters away from the commotion, Kaori Kanzaki, who had finally recovered her stamina, breathed a sigh, quietly so that nobody would notice.

“…W-well, we couldn’t bring most of our things from the English Puritan women’s dorm out with us, so the erotic fallen-angel maid must have been buried from darkness to darkness. I brought my pet tropical fish and my friend the washing machine on the water plane, so as long as they’re all right, it doesn’t really matter.”

Kanzaki didn’t realize that she was muttering under her breath.

And then Tatemiya whipped around, invoking a foul premonition, and made a declaration:

“No need to worry!! We made sure to protect the Priestess’s precious bridal outfit even if it cost us our lives!! The fallen-angel maid and the erotic fallen-angel maid—we’ve preserved them both, so please, choose whichever you like!!”

“N-nobody asked for thaaaaaaaaaaaat!!”

Proffered before Kanzaki’s eyes as she unconsciously screamed for real was the nightmare she’d just been imagining, the clothes so neatly folded that it seemed like they had just returned from the cleaners. Actually, judging from how Tatemiya, Ushibuka, Kouyagi, and the others were acting, she sort of started to feel stupid for being serious and facing the Knight Leader on her own, then getting thoroughly beaten to a pulp.

“Th-those things are unnecessary!! And if you had enough time to go into the women’s dormitory to begin with, you should have obediently brought yukatas and things…!!”

“The erotic fallen-angel maid…Unnecessary…? C-could there be a hyper-super-ero fallen-angel maid waiting in the wings?! …Y-you truly spare no effort…”

“I don’t have anything like that!! Wh-what are you even talking about? Hyper-super-ero?! The basic maid premise is barely even there anymore!! You’d be fine with anything as long as it looked sexy!!” blathered on Kanzaki, her face turning red.

But the men of Born Again Amakusa hadn’t risked their lives for a one-shot joke.

No, something else lay deeper down.

“(…We’ve never actually seen the Priestess in the erotic fallen-angel maid outfit with our own eyes! We can’t allow ourselves to die without having done that, can we?!)” whispered Tatemiya.

“(…We were all writhing in pain in our beds after Acqua of the Back wrecked us five ways from yesterday. It was a swift technique that took advantage of a moment’s neglect,)” Ushibuka agreed.

“(…When we got Itsuwa’s report, I thought I was gonna cry tears of blood. We can’t go out without seeing something so hot and funny,)” Kouyagi added.

“(…Ungh. And if we’ve been blessed with this once-in-a-century chance to see a showdown between an erotic fallen-angel maid and a great fairy peeping maid, there will be worth in risking our lives,)” Isahaya moaned.

Not only the young men Ushibuka and Kouyagi, but even the married Nomozaki and the elderly Isahaya were all really getting into it. Looking at them, maybe her irresponsible absconding had made Amakusa’s direction distort…Or, at least, so thought the airheaded leadership-worthy Kaori Kanzaki, beginning to seriously worry. Her thinking was beyond big-sister and closer to motherly territory, but make no mistake—she was still eighteen years of age.

The effects continued to propagate.

Angeline, on the receiving end of a bitter vegetable party courtesy of Lucia’s goodwill, had stopped her teary-eyed, herbivore-feeling eating and turned her attention to the internal strife (?) occurring in the Born Again Amakusa-Style Crossist Church.

She poked Agnes Sanctis, their leader, who had joined them afterward (she’d been keeping a huge pizza to herself this whole time; it was covered in all kinds of meat like salami and hot dogs and she was extremely jealous).

“S-Sister Agnes! The Far Eastern religion seems to be having an interesting discussion about wasting their excessive breasts! Should we leave them alone?!”

“Mm. They’re basically competing to see who is the most adultlike sexy maid, right? As an organization of two hundred and fifty sisters, we can’t quietly withdraw, but we also don’t have over-ample bosoms like they do. Now then, who from our camp would be the most effective as a pillar to plan a counterattack…?”

If Kanzaki or Itsuwa had heard her, they would have stormed over with fire streaming from their mouths, but for Lucia, who was listening to their ridiculous conversation, that wasn’t the important part. The worst thing was that Agnes and Angeline both, for whatever reason, seemed to be looking in her direction.

Lucia, who lacked feminine sex appeal (but actually had giant knockers), took the initiative. “I’m not doing it.”

“I’ve heard that there exists something called a ‘clichéd little devil maid.’”

“I am sure you heard me, yet you seem to be continuing despite that. I repeat—I will not do it.”

“There seems to be some special meaning in it being a little devil and not just a devil.”

The girls’ discussion began to grow faster and faster.

A short distance away, Sherry Cromwell sat by herself, watching the commotion. She was a woman with disheveled, lionlike blond hair and skin the color of wheat. Her goth-loli dress, mostly black, was damaged in places, which almost served to blend it into the midnight darkness.

She hadn’t taken any food in particular.

She had no appetite.

Her stomach was heavy with intense regret born of self-discipline and self-deprecation.

It wasn’t that she felt inferior to the knights. In truth, the fact that she’d let herself get so rattled emotionally over some shithead knights was getting to her. No matter how much she tried to deny it, they’d eaten deeply into part of what made her her. And she felt like that had just been proven. As though all the experience and results she’d worked hard to accumulate had been snatched away.

“This is the worst…,” swore Sherry, lightly rubbing a bruise remaining on her brown skin.

In London, she had sent out her golem, Ellis, to trample the knights, but somewhere along the way, her awareness had ceased. She couldn’t even remember what had knocked her out—a desperate counterattack from the knights or the exhibitionist sorceress who had stepped in partway through. The only thing her dimming mind barely remembered was the sorceress picking her up and dragging her away from the chaotic battlefront.

A languid feeling of powerlessness enveloped her whole body.

As it did, a figure unhurriedly approached her.

“I come bearing a snack for you.”

“Gah, you again…”

The nun, whose mannerisms were unnecessarily polite, was Orsola Aquinas. Formerly of the Roman Orthodox Church, she supposedly specialized in deciphering grimoires, but before Sherry knew it, they’d ended up as partners working on information analysis and criminal-identification-related jobs.

Whether or not Orsola knew of Sherry’s circumstances, she had in any case brought her a mainly vegetable sandwich that seemed easy on the stomach.

“We will probably be busy soon. It is important to remember to eat while you are able to. I hear that one’s stamina sometimes decides the outcome of a battle.”

“…Oh, buzz off. It’d be just like me to die for some stupid condition like that—Bgh?! Did you just smile while shoving that sandwich in my mouth—Mgghbgh!!”

Nearly choking, Sherry had to start chewing to avoid the threat to her life.

Orsola was busy pushing the entire sandwich-laden serving plate at her, giggling quietly.

Sherry violently snatched up the sandwich and said, “…Come to think of it, I heard you were late getting out of the women’s dorm.”

“Everyone was all in a fluster and left without me. They spoke of bringing only what they absolutely needed, but I ended up with more luggage than I expected.”

“Hah, that’s just like you.” Sherry snorted just for show.

But there was no insult or derision in it. For a few seconds, she stayed silent, and then she looked back at Orsola’s face again.

“Let me guess—this was part of all that stuff you risked your life to bring out?” Still sitting, Sherry kicked something lying on the short grass.

It was a statue of a child, carved in marble.

On its base was the word Ellis.

“Ah-ha-ha. Have I been found out?”

“Nobody asked you to do that…” Sherry sighed, appearing truly displeased. “This thing’s a failure. It’s not something you had to risk your life to take…In fact, I would have rather it disappeared already. Would’ve been a load off my mind.”

“Now, now. You need not force yourself to take a load off your mind, do you?”

“…”

“Clearing your regrets and rejecting the dead are different things. Do you not think the phrase to break ties with the past is misleading? Who in this world could say for sure that those who treasure their memories of the departed have no right to live new lives and build new families?”

“…Don’t act like you know,” muttered Sherry offhandedly. But she didn’t complain any more than that. She pushed the statue of Ellis’s base away with her foot, then watched the failure from above without a word.

For a few moments, there was no sound.

But unlike before, this silence was a gentle one.

“Oh yes, that’s right.”

“What is it now…?”

“Miss Sherry, your dress appears to be in shambles from repeated battles, so I prepared a replacement outfit for you. I must say, I was right to bring every single thing I thought might be necessary when leaving the women’s dormitory.”

“No, this is just my style, so I don’t mind if my clothes are—Bgfftt?!”

“Ta-daa! Evidently, this is called a goth goddess maid!!”

“It makes a mockery of everything gothic!! Actually, aside from looking vaguely western and old, there’re no similarities whatsoever!!”

“Oh?” said Orsola, inclining her head slightly.

It was an unusual reaction for the sorceress Sherry…or so she thought, but the brown-skinned golem user actually had a personality that got quite frequently excited (especially in battle).

Still, even Orsola seemed to understand that the goth goddess maid had been unfavorably received. Holding the unique maid clothing spread out in front of her, she frowned, troubled.

“How strange indeed…Amakusa is well-known for penetrating cultural spheres all over the world and swiftly adopting new trends. They were discussing such things as erotic fallen-angel maids and great fairy peeping maids earlier, so I had no doubt this would be at the cutting edge of current trends…”

“Ugh. You’re an old-lady character, mentally! I can’t trust anything you say about trends and fads!!”

“Still, it would be a waste to discard it without using it…Oh, then why don’t we do this? If there is nobody to wear it, then I will just have to—”

“Hey, wait, wait a second!! Stop that! If someone like you with no conscious knowledge of her own enormous breasts wore a ridiculous maid outfit like that, something catastrophic would happen!! No, stop, you idiot—”

11

About one kilometer away from the Puritans’ camp was a mercenary.

William Orwell was standing next to a line of dairy-farm facilities that included an animal shed for milking the cows and a silo. Of course, the farmer’s home seemed to be built elsewhere, so there wasn’t a human soul around at the moment.

His giant sword Ascalon, over eleven feet long and about four hundred and fifty pounds, was an intricate, complicated construction of several different blades. William went through each of their functions, checking them, sometimes disassembling pieces and continuing to make adjustments.

…The problem is with my left shoulder rather than my sword, it seems. I have applied some healing magic since then, but…

Suddenly, William brought his face up.

The movement was like a wolf reacting to a distant howl heard from beyond the darkness.

In fact, that impression wouldn’t have been wrong.

He had caught a magical transmission traveling to him from afar.

“Can you hear me, William?”

“…Hmph. It seems even our devil’s luck is in competition,” he gruffed, despite the fact that his lips loosened slightly—slightly enough that even he didn’t realize it.

The familiar voice belonged to the Knight Leader.

“The Curtana Original seems to have gone out of control in London. It also seems to have been intentional, by someone adopting the safety directly under Buckingham Palace…Were you involved in that? Well, anyway, thanks to that, the knights’ unified will is on the verge of breaking down…Nevertheless, it must have been caused by my own defeat, so I can’t say anything too haughty.”

“It is likely to be the work of magical experts this nation possesses.”

William put a few disassembled parts back together, continuing to build them into the form of a single large sword.

“Also, would not the knights’ will solidify were you to return to the lines of battle?”

“…”

“You waver,” noted the mercenary bluntly. “Then you would benefit from watching how the others act. I know not how long time would wait, but it would be better than going to your fate without thought.”

“If I was to stand before you once more as a result, what would you do?”

“It would not change what I would do. I would only bring you to your knees a second time.”

A tsk. “I can’t stand you.”

William couldn’t see his expression along with the words, but the Knight Leader seemed to be grinning painfully.

William abruptly stopped checking Ascalon for issues. “If I recall, your spell of Thororm can target a perceived weapon and render it useless for ten minutes. Could you not foil the Curtana Original using it?”

“Idiot. There’s an exception to every rule. In the first place, it should be incredibly obvious how disrespectful to royalty it would be for a knight to permanently carry a weapon that ensures the head of state’s death. When I constructed the spell’s theory, I intended to show my loyalty by including something that would prevent it from killing anyone related to the royal family.”

“…Unfitting, from a man who tried to behead the third princess with an executor’s ax.”

“Yes, and that’s why I wasn’t using my own weapon on Her Highness. I was forced to use a normal weapon.”

At some point, the Knight Leader had unthinkingly lapsed into his old banter.

“Since you’re going off to certain death now, I have one piece of advice to give you.”

“And what is that?”

“At one point in our previous battle, you were concerned about this. That my strongest class of attack would have been equipped with everything—severing power, armament weight, durability, movement speed, attack range, special usages, and accuracy—and that it wouldn’t have allowed any evasion, defense, or counterattack. It would be certain to kill…But in reality, I could only use one pattern at a time. I couldn’t use multiple at once.”

The Knight Leader paused for a moment. Then, as though resolving himself, he spoke.

“The second princess, Carissa, and the Curtana Original probably make that attack a reality.”

“…”

“If you truly plan to defeat her, then make all due preparations. If you make light of her, thinking there is a trick to her strength or that you could turn things around as long as you find a weakness…you won’t be able to overcome her.”

“No matter who the enemy, it does not change what I must do.”

There wasn’t even a moment’s hesitation before William’s answer.

The man who didn’t speak more than was necessary wouldn’t even energize himself through his own words.

“I will sever the roots of this disturbance. But if removing her from the Curtana means I will not have to take her life, then that is another choice available to me.”

There wasn’t even the slightest discrepancy between William Orwell and Acqua of the Back in the way they acted.

It had been the same as when he’d attacked the Imagine Breaker boy. He had simply thought that by crushing the right hand of the one (he thought was) at the center of the disturbance, he could return the boy to a normal life and stop the global war between science and sorcery at the same time.

“I don’t know against whom or where you will take up the sword next, but if we are to meet again, then we shall.”

“Yes. In any circumstance, we must both do everything in our pow—Ngh?!”

Then, the man who normally refrained from any pointless talking made an unusually meaningless grunt.

In fact, it set the Knight Leader’s nerves on end. “What is it? An enemy attack?!”

“…Blast,” William hissed. “The third princess has realized I’m here and is on the approach! A magical smuggler seems to be aiding her. They’re headed straight for me.” He quickly cleaned up his tools, then, pressing to his body the transport shoulder pad at Ascalon’s base, hefted the weapon.

“…I said something somewhat embarrassing not long ago. I had hoped it would stabilize her mind, but I see I should have refrained from doing things I am not familiar with after all!!”

“Well, I don’t get it, but you’re saying something fairly embarrassing right now,” said the Knight Leader.

The mercenary ignored him and immediately left the place behind.

And so, their last suppers ended.

What waited for them now was a conflict to decide the fate of the United Kingdom.

A true battle, with no possible guarantee that both sides wouldn’t end up dead together.

And yet, naturally, they gathered.