EPILOGUE

State and Mastermind: Another Strong Enemy
Next_Step.

The coup d’état was over.

With it, the power granted to the people by the queen’s spell, Union Jack, was lost as well, and everyone returned to being normal citizens. Calm now that they’d lost their strength (or perhaps relaxed now that they had the freedom to think about other things, since the fight was over), the students and office workers eventually looked at the dreadful scene before their eyes, beginning to cast dubious gazes around.

“…I don’t mean to brag, but I really went big with this one, eh?” Queen Elizard grinned in self-deprecation, once again picking up the Curtana Second she’d discarded earlier. The legendary sword was now missing its entire blade after the fight with the Original. Just as she was considering having that boy thoroughly break it, she noticed a figure suddenly approach.

The Knight Leader.

“It pains me to say this, having been a factor in the coup’s inception…but what shall we do now?”

“You going to worry about stuff in the past forever, you bloody idiot? I thought British chivalry dictates you boast as much as you can whenever you stand before noblewomen.” The queen snorted. “Besides, nothing’s wrong with what happened today. All the civilians who took part will try to interpret these strange events in their own ways, but the spell’s construction will never be exposed. It’ll just be a good memory they can recount to their grandkids in the future.”

“But we cannot reject the possibility that someone may arrive at the conclusion that it was magic.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” answered Elizard immediately. It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought about it; it was the opposite. “If that happens, we’ll simply have to admit it. Admit that magic exists in this world, and that it works in the shadows to protect them every day. We can call it a rebirth of the magical nation of Britain.”

“But that would be—”

“History is ever-changing. There’s no rule anywhere saying sorcery has to be hidden from people forever. Come now—it’s not like we’re the first anyway. There are even some African tribes where certain sorcerers make decisions for their tribes—in other words, they let them take the reins of government. That means such a form of government is far from impossible. It’s one historical what-if and a revolution away from becoming reality.”

Coming from Elizard—who had just faced off with a “revolution” of Carissa’s making after the princess had almost completely taken over the country—those words held an incredible sense of realism to them.

Meanwhile, she, the one involved in all this, continued with a jovial tone.

“…Anyway. Let’s go grab Carissa from wherever she got blown away to. Hm? Wait, now where did that medal-deserving boy go?”

The third princess, Vilian, having gone a short distance away from the Puritans and knights who had stopped the coup, looked to and fro. She was searching for someone, but she couldn’t find him at all. Eventually, she ceased her efforts and said to herself, her face clouded with resignation:

“…Once again, William has already left, without saying a word…”

“…” The Knight Leader, who had walked up to her side, hesitated on how he should best respond. Eventually, he nodded. “There seems to be major activity in the Russian Catholic sphere. Important activity that relates to this huge overt battle between sorcery and science. It seems he’s gained intelligence from a comrade who also left God’s Right Seat and will act to stop this war from a different direction than the English Puritan Church intends.”

“A comrade?” asked Vilian quietly. “You have as well, but everyone has gained many things in these ten years. I feel as though I am the only one who has failed to do a single thing.”

It seemed to have hurt Vilian more than the others that William had left without saying good-bye. As the Knight Leader looked at her, a hint of bitterness crept into his face.

“…That bastard,” he muttered under his breath. “He used his carefree position as mercenary to drop this troublesome role on me…”

“?” Vilian tilted her head in confusion—had his mumblings been out loud?

The Knight Leader hastily readopted a formal expression, then spoke again. “A certain mercenary has left me with a message. He prefaced it by explaining that I should tell you when nobody else was around to hear.”

“What…did he say?”

“…‘One day, once this war is over and the world is at peace, I wish to return to Britain. If it may be granted, at that time, I would like my escutcheon to decorate the hallway in Buckingham Palace like it should have always done. Until then, my sword and I will protect the emblem, so my wish is for you to repair Buckingham Palace and gain the strength to overcome the many ordeals that will likely bar your path…’ Well, would that not be his way of proposing that you grow enough to be worthy of that mercenary’s fealty?”

“…!” The eyes of the third princess, Vilian, went wide with surprise, but the Knight Leader had actually mixed into his message one or two things that William Orwell hadn’t actually said.

…Well, he never does use enough words. Giving the original message would have come off as inconsiderate.

Only the man who’d directly received the message knew how much of it he’d given straight and how much he’d embellished. But the Knight Leader, while Vilian wasn’t looking, secretly stuck out his tongue and thought, You are very aware of my personality, and you still entrusted me with that artificial message. I’m sure you knew how I’d convey it, didn’t you, William?

Kanzaki and the members of the Born Again Amakusa-Style Crossist Church, who had finished giving aid to and evacuating the wounded, came to gather together after a short breather.

Saiji Tatemiya was the one to break the silence.

“…So Touma Kamijou ended up snatching away the best part again, eh? Your debts to him are ballooning like a loan shark, don’t you think, Priestess?”

“Wha—?! You’re talking like Tsuchimikado!! Th-this makes us even, doesn’t it? I mean, we all worked together, so the achievements should be distributed equally. There are no debts or loans involved. Right?”

“Anyway, we decided to mobilize the erotic fallen-angel maid. Hm? Wait, you haven’t done that yet…Which would be better to attack him with in this case?”

“Don’t decide things for me! I never want to wear something like that ever again!! N-Nomozami, Isahaya, you too!! You’re too old to be shouting, ‘It’s a double; it’s a double’!!”

Kanzaki went on and on with her complaints, but the men in Born Again Amakusa were united in their feelings: We’ve never seen the real-life legend, so please make her appear, right here, right now.

Meanwhile, a short distance away from that commotion…

“…I-if he fought for everyone this time, then I can interpret that as me having a debt to him, too, right?” Itsuwa hissed under her breath. “In that case, I have, umm, a reason to…Hee…”

“Wait a minute. You may look pure, but your womanly desires are coming out now, aren’t they?”

Even as Tsushima, another woman, pointed that out, Itsuwa wasn’t one to give it much thought.

Then…

“Heave, heave, phewww…I have finally made the scene at Buckingham Palace…”

As Kanzaki turned around, thinking she’d just heard some strange-sounding Japanese, she saw Archbishop Laura Stuart, slumped exhaustedly over the horse she was on, coming her way.

“B-blast you, Elizard…As soon as you received the flag at the British Museum, you entrusted me with your warhorse and left immediately…I—I couldn’t figure out the horse’s movements and rhythm, and now my back, ohhh, my back…”

In contrast to the tired and battered Laura, the horse seemed displeased in his own right. He was giving a spirited, angry neigh as if to say he hated her, since they weren’t compatible.

“Urgh…Thanks to that, I became completely useless. For what reason hath I come all this way, I wonder?”

“…That’s what you say, but…You had a hand in this behind the scenes, didn’t you? The Union Jack is a large-scale, national-level spell that has never been used before in history. Considering that, the Royal Family faction probably wouldn’t have been able to activate it at their own discretion. Either you gave some sort of permission or you forced the lock open. It was one of those, wasn’t it?”

Lying limply on her horse, Laura didn’t confirm or deny her subordinate’s assertion—she merely wore a meaningful smile on her lips.

Kanzaki suspected several things, but then Laura Stuart began searching for unexpected help.

“I can’t go on…I cannot use any strength, nor can I stoppeth the horse. K-Kanzakiii…Stop the horse; help me down…”

“Huh? I—I can’t. I’m not actually very good with horses.”

“And you wear that?! You looketh like you come from a Wild West movie!”

“Well, no, these are just the items I need for constructing spells. I didn’t do it out of any love for horseback riding— Gwaaaahhhh?! It’s eating me—the horse is eating my ponytail!”

When she saw her black hair covered in horse drool, she screamed, but the warhorse seemed to have taken a liking to her. As he naturally stopped by Kanzaki and tried to play with her, Laura, with unsteady motions, finally got off the steed and settled her feet on the ground.

“R-right, then. In passing, where might be the boy for whom Kanzaki will wear that utterly erotic clothing? I had heard he hath come to Britain, and I wanted to see him at some point.”

“Argh—for someone who waltzed in when it was all over, you’re really trying to push my buttons! That boy got involved in a magical incident, so shouldn’t it actually be you wearing the erotic fallen-angel maid outfit?!”

The second princess, Carissa, had fallen flat on a London street.

There was still a little time until daybreak. Her coup had ended, but its effects still remained, for there were no cars on this major road.

She wondered where she was.

How far away from Buckingham Palace property was she—two kilometers, three? In any case, she’d been knocked sky-high, so brilliantly far that she couldn’t figure out where she was anymore.

“…” Carissa gazed at her right hand.

Her own hand, which still held on to the Curtana Original’s hilt in desperate attachment even after everything that had occurred. But the sword had a cleft down the middle, and its magical power had been lost. The massive power of the angelic leader had probably already moved to the Curtana Second by now. Of course, she couldn’t see that mother of hers being so attached to the power.

For a while, Carissa didn’t say a word.

She’d been thinking, just a little, about ninety million people having the will to fight. Protect the people? They were so strong—outside countries poking them a few times would never cause their pride as people to plummet. This all meant, in the end, that the one most scared of the path before them was Carissa.

Then it happened.

“Ha-ha. Now, this is something. Never thought I’d see you of all people lying on the ground covered in blood and mud like that…But now that I’m actually looking at it, well, it’s an even more enjoyable sight than I expected.”

She heard a man’s voice.

Carissa dragged her aching body to sit up. Somebody was there. A man in mainly red clothing. He didn’t seem to have much of a trained physique, but something beyond that impression caused a strange, almost unnatural presence.

“Who…?” spat Carissa, putting strength into her right arm before remembering the Curtana Original was broken. She threw the sword hilt aside. “Who are you…?”

“If I said Fiamma of the Right, would you understand? If you still don’t get it even with all these hints, it would be wise to dismantle your intelligence division and put together a new one.”

“…!”

Fiamma of the Right.

The final member of God’s Right Seat, which controlled the Roman Orthodox Church from the shadows and he was its most powerful member. According to reports, he’d partially destroyed St. Peter’s Basilica with one attack in a dispute with the pope of Rome, who was apparently in an unpredictable state even now.

After gathering those data points in her mind, Carissa looked up, having suddenly thought of something. “The angel with whom you correspond is Michael, the LIKENESS OF GOD…The same quality the Curtana operates on— Were you after this sword?!”

“Hmm? Oh, I see, I see. Yes, that might have been another way to do it.”

Carissa watched Fiamma closely as he continued, his tone of voice amused. She provoked him to see if she could get a reaction. “Unfortunately, the Curtana Original here has already lost its function, so. If you wanted to use the chaos of the coup to sneak in and snatch it, you must be disappointed.”

“Well, yes. It is indeed a terrible loss. In fact, what you suggested might have actually been easier,” noted Fiamma offhandedly. He looked honestly impressed. “Eh, it wouldn’t have worked anyway, right? I don’t think so, at least. The quality of the power meets the requirements, but its capacity probably wouldn’t hold out. As soon as I moved my mighty power into the sword, the sword would explode and that would be that.”

“What…are you talking about?”

“Just some meaningless gossip. And if I may add—your guess is half-correct. I did take advantage of the chaos to come here and steal that which is preserved in the deepest annals of the English Puritan Church. But that item was not something paltry like the Curtana.”

Fiamma gave her a sarcastic round of applause. “Well, maybe one-fourth correct. After all, going through the Roman Orthodox Church to make the French government beg and have them incite disorder within the United Kingdom was for this purpose.”

“Wh-what?”

“Well, manipulating France and Britain into a real war, then recovering it from a burned-down London would have been fine, too. But you handled that quite excellently, you know. Thanks to your absurd game of playing house, I was able to achieve my goal without turning the capital into a storm of killing, pillaging, and rape.”

Blood rushed to Carissa’s head.

Without the Curtana, the second princess didn’t have much in the way of direct attack magic. She could muster average power, but that wouldn’t be nearly enough to challenge this man.

And even when Carissa tried to jump on him, Fiamma didn’t move a finger.

There was just a massive ga-pow!! and a shock wave that carried her body over ten meters away.

“Hey, would you quit that? I’ve already achieved my lofty goals. I’ve no need to fight a daydreaming princess. That hag of a queen is one thing, but small fries like you I can let go.”

Something giant had sprouted from near Fiamma’s right shoulder. It was like a wing or an arm…It was a strange, incomprehensible object that seemed otherworldly.

“Damn. Failed partway through again. I have to say, I’ve acquired quite a troublesome companion.” Fiamma walked over, his heels clicking on purpose.

“What was it…An item that would upstage even the Curtana? You caused this war, exploited it, and secretly tried to steal something—what was it for?!”

Carissa coughed up blood as she raged, but Fiamma didn’t change his tune at all.

“You don’t know?” Fiamma smiled like he was splitting his own mouth in two. Then, he spread his arms theatrically. “Just a little treasure. One that you royals secretly created, for that matter.”

Carissa’s body drew back in shock. She knew what Fiamma was referring to.

“Impossible…It actually…existed…?!”

“As I thought, they didn’t tell you about it. It was sitting right there in Buckingham Palace the whole time. I was surprised myself. It was a secret item in the truest sense of the term. They may have told the sorcerers to bring everything crucial with them when your coup began, but if they didn’t know about it in the first place, they couldn’t have brought it,” said Fiamma in a singsong voice, slowly moving the third arm that had sprouted from his right shoulder.

If he used that thing’s abilities to its fullest, Carissa as she was now would easily be blasted to smithereens.

“So what will you do, then? Give up and keep living or try a little harder and die?”

“Rubb…ish…”

Blood leaking from her mouth, Carissa slowly stood up.

Her body was already on an angle, and she had trouble keeping her balance, but the light in her eyes never withered.

“…I think I know now…why the pope resisted you until the end…”

“Do you? Then you can bite the bullet like he did.”

Shhhwhh!! A massive burst of wind pressure assailed Carissa.

Dragging her battered body, she still tried to face forward, eyes wide open.

And then…

Gwrkkeeee!!

With a tremendous sound, a boy’s right hand suddenly appeared out of nowhere and blocked Fiamma’s attack.

The colossal power tried to blast the boy backward, but Carissa supported him from behind. Two sets of soles scraped across the floor, but they just managed to hold their ground.

“What the hell…are you doing…?” growled Kamijou, giving his right arm a swing to make sure it was still working. The simple act caused awful creaking noises that reached Carissa’s ears; it really had affected his bones and joints.

As Kamijou ignored it and glared, Fiamma laughed.

He laughed hard, much harder than before, so hard he nearly had to hold his stomach.

“Kha-ha-ha!! What’s going on? You were today’s lucky constellation—and I seem to have hit the bull’s-eye!! Here I thought you’d be the finishing touch. To think I’d get a double in a place like this!!”

“…Who the hell are you?” demanded Kamijou.

Fiamma didn’t answer. He just laughed.

Instead, Carissa, who unsteadily pulled away from him and nearly fell face-first on the ground for it, told him: “It’s Fiamma…Fiamma of the Right. God’s Right Seat’s leader, essentially, so.”

The unexpected voice startled Kamijou.

Eventually, Fiamma looked at him again, still chuckling.

“Hey, at least let me introduce myself, will you?”

“Fiamma…”

The last of God’s Right Seat, which bossed around the Roman Orthodox Church. The ringleader of this whole war. He was so important that the big war might end if they could just defeat him.

As Fiamma watched Kamijou unconsciously grip his fist more tightly than before, he responded by moving the third arm stretching from his right shoulder. Then, almost licking his lips, he spoke up.

“Are we doing this? All right. I apologize for the unsightliness, but I’m warmed up now.”

“Shut up!!”

With a shout of indignation, Kamijou began to run—and at that moment, Fiamma’s third arm let out an explosive light.

Sound disappeared.

Only the right hand he’d stuck out took the fierce impact with a terrible ga-bam!!

When the light vanished, Kamijou and Fiamma were still glaring at each other.

That one attack alone had had enough destructive potential to wipe an everyday cathedral off the map.

“I see. I should have expected as much from that rare right hand I rightly desire. Now that I see it up close, I’m even more surprised at its singularity.”

Fiamma’s attack had been erased, but he seemed satisfied.

His third arm wriggled like an independent creature, writhing like an agonized snake, about to melt away into the air.

“Time is up, I see,” said Fiamma as he watched Kamijou, who had his attention on the third arm. “Don’t be so surprised. That right hand you use is similar to it. Actually, both are incomplete, so they’re the spitting image of each other.”

Then, Fiamma’s third arm made a much more violent movement than before. For the first time, he gave a slight frown. “Well, I suppose greed is never a good thing. Let’s stop here for today. Killing you now would be a simple matter, but I’m not so attached to the idea that I’d risk the slim chance of you destroying the Soul Arm I stole…I will obtain it one day in the near future anyway.”

“A Soul Arm…you stole…?”

“It’s pretty great. You want to see?”

The next thing he knew, Fiamma was gripping something in his hand. It was a lock made of metal.

It looked like a dial combination lock, but it had too many numbers. Actually, there were English letters carved into it instead of numbers. There shouldn’t have been enough room to engrave all twenty-six on such a small ring, but they were all there, like some kind of unnatural optical illusion. Maybe it wasn’t that each letter was engraved on it—maybe it was like a ring-shaped liquid crystal that displayed only necessary letters.

What is that…? Kamijou frowned in suspicion.

“No!! Don’t let him use that!!” shouted Carissa tensely.

But the likeness of Michael didn’t listen. He rolled the Soul Arm into the palm of his right hand, then used his thumb by itself to spin the dial attached to the cylindrical lock.

A moment later…

…there was a thundering boom!!

Something white burst out from below, tearing through the asphalt.

Had it passed through the subway or water pipes, too? A circle of asphalt about twenty meters across, centered on the blast location, pushed out of the ground and blew away. Kamijou had been standing right on the edge, and his body fell backward as Carissa came dangerously close to falling into the underground space.

Its destructive force was immeasurable.

But that wasn’t what had surprised Kamijou.

Wha…?!

The thing that had suddenly attacked them—

Was a person.

A girl with silver hair and green eyes.

A sister wearing a teacup-like white habit embroidered with gold thread.

Yes.

“…In…dex…?!” shouted Kamijou in spite of himself.

Why had she appeared at Fiamma’s signal? And how had she created an impossible amount of destruction given her clearly normal arm strength? —How did a girl who shouldn’t have been able to use magic receive magic-like assistance?

There were two things to answer this myriad of queries.

The first was Fiamma’s words.

“The safety attached to the Index, John’s Pen…You could call this Soul Arm an external controller for it. Only the leaders of the Royal Family and Puritan factions possess such a treasure. Still, using it risks corruption from the original copies, so it seems they were really keeping it as an absolute last resort…But didn’t you think it was strange? That despite how much she wished for it, why they placed an Index of Forbidden Books firmly into a city of science with no insurance? How is that possible? And not to mention that archbishop who created this cruel system.”

The second thing was Index’s own words.

“Yes. I am a libr—ary of grimoires be—longing to the English Pur—itan Church’s—0th parish—Necessarius, the Church of Nece—ssary Evils. My official na—me is Index Librorum Prohibitorum, bu—t my abbreviated nick—name—zizizizazazagagagagagaga.”

As Index muttered along impassively, she suddenly began to shake massively and unnaturally, and then she collapsed softly to the ground.

“Index!!”

“Oh? Was there damage to John’s Pen as well? Well, it is a shame I won’t be able to fully control her physical body, but this much should suffice…If I do some precise adjustments on the Soul Arm to raise its ‘output,’ I should gain free access to the 103,000 grimoires’ knowledge.”

Fiamma’s face looked like he’d gotten a toy that turned out more boring than he’d expected.

“What did you do…? What did you do to Index?!” shouted Kamijou, voice swelling louder than it ever had before.

Fiamma spread his arms and shrugged. “I don’t know. Any inadequate maintenance is your fault.”

“You bastard!!”

Kamijou clenched his fist and began to run toward Fiamma, meaning to punch him away for real this time.