CHAPTER 1

Immigration of Good and Evil
World_War_III.

1

October 30.

Even the digital display showing the date seemed to be shivering in the cold.

The car’s heater was almost completely busted. Driving a beat-up junker across the snow-covered landscape, Shiage Hamazura felt the chill seeping into his hands gripping the steering wheel. No matter how far they went, there was nothing. Just vast, flat land. The perfunctory asphalt road was buried with snow, too, and mostly invisible. There was so little to go on that if he drove off the road, he probably wouldn’t even realize it.

This wasn’t a sight that could be had in Japan.

He’d heard the Hokkaido area had some pretty expansive stretches of land, but probably nothing comparable.

It was like a white desert.

This was a western region of Russia.

Apparently, they were close to the border with the Elizalina Alliance of Independent Nations.

In order to escape their Academy City pursuers, they’d ridden a supersonic passenger jet on autopilot to the foreign country. The situation hadn’t afforded them much time to prepare, so they had almost no escape funds.

…I can’t complain because this thing is stolen, but…Shit. Maybe it’s not about whether the air conditioning is working right—maybe our clothes are fundamentally wrong for this. You need way more cold-weather gear here than in Japan…

The car’s paint was peeling in places, revealing the brown rust underneath. As he held its steering wheel, Hamazura stole a glance at the passenger seat beside him.

A girl, on the short side and wearing a pink tracksuit, was sitting there.

Rikou Takitsubo.

A girl whose body had been ravaged by the side effects of a drug-like substance called Crystals. Even now, she was limp in her seat, sweating profusely as though suffering from a fever. Hamazura wanted to get her to a doctor as soon as he could, but he knew it wasn’t happening. Crystals were top secret for Academy City. Even if he brought Takitsubo to an outside doctor, they’d have no way of knowing how to cure her.

These two were on the run.

From the one thing that could have saved her: Academy City.

…There’s no way we can fight Academy City alone. Besides, if we completely wrecked it, we’d lose the tech we need to cure Takitsubo. However this shakes out, we’ll have to eventually go back to the City and rely on its tech to save her.

However, if they put up their hands and returned to the City like this, neither would win any freedom. The possibility that they’d be killed wasn’t low either. Which meant Hamazura had to come up with a plan to guarantee their safety.

…So this is how our fight will go. While we’re fleeing through Russia, we find something and use it as a bargaining chip. We advance the talks so it’s as beneficial to us as possible until we reach a stage where they’ll definitely cure Takitsubo. That’s our only option.

“Hamazura. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he replied with a reassuring grin. “…Was just thinking we’ll need money no matter what we decide to do here. What little we had on us when we left the City won’t get us far. It’s not Russian currency, either, so we won’t be able to use it right away. We’ll have to find money somewhere.”

Selling the stolen car he was driving right now was an option, but Hamazura didn’t think it was a very good idea. It wasn’t that easy to tell which dealers were shady enough to take a stolen vehicle. If he were still in Academy City, things might have been different, but he didn’t know what it was like in Russia.

Besides, he didn’t know much Russian. If someone witnessed Asian people speaking Japanese in these parts while they were embroiled in their big war, that alone might be enough to cause major issues.

Which left them with…

“We’ll have to steal. Time for a robbery.”

“That’s…” Takitsubo hesitated.

But that was their only choice.

As if in response to their decision, a small store came into sight in front of them. It was connected to a gas station. They probably sold nonperishables in cans and the like for people driving long distances.

“Wait here,” he said to Takitsubo, parking the car a short distance away from the store.

“I’ll go earn us real cash.”

…Saying it was easy, but Hamazura was actually pretty worried.

First off, this wasn’t Japan. The guns didn’t work the same way. He had a small handgun on him, but it was possible anyone they set upon would have their own for self-defense—or maybe even a rifle.

To add to that—

It’s wartime right now.

Ever since Takitsubo translated a Russian broadcast on the radio for him earlier, Hamazura’s head had been filled with words that felt highly surreal.

For Russians, we’re the greatest enemy of all. If anyone even suspects that we came from Academy City, we could get thrashed.

War.

That was what they were saying, but the word wasn’t clicking for him. For Hamazura, the horrors of war were something that only ever happened in distant places or something that he would hear about from time to time on TV news, but apparently, it was happening all across the world now. It didn’t feel real—maybe because there was no time for the news to sink in since they had been preoccupied with fleeing Academy City, or it could have been because they hadn’t encountered the misfortune of finding themselves on a battlefield crisscrossed by bullets and artillery shells yet. Academy City had apparently dispatched forces that were assisting in the evacuation of friendly institutions and protecting various facilities inside Russia’s borders…but even hearing that news over the car radio wasn’t enough to give him a sense of danger.

He didn’t know what was going to happen from here on out. But to be honest, Hamazura didn’t care who won or who lost, or which side would next grab ahold of the world’s reins. As long as this ridiculous war ended as soon as possible and someone who would protect them ended up with those reins, he hardly cared about anything that might happen afterward.

…That summed up most of his thoughts on the matter, but the war actually wasn’t his number one concern. In fact, it was quite possible he was only thinking about the war because he didn’t want to face it—his number one concern.

That he had to rob a store with a clerk in it.

This excuse may have been incredibly self-centered, but this was altogether different than jacking a car or an ATM. Every time he thought about situations where he’d possibly need to use his weapon, he could feel something heavy settling into his stomach.

He checked the safety on the small handgun in his pocket several times, thinking, I will not, I will absolutely not hurt the shopkeeper! All I need is what’s in the register. I’ll just hold the guy at gunpoint. Warning shots only after I point the barrel up!

He repeated what he needed to do in his mind and, in the end, casually prayed for something vague. Right before entering the store, he pulled his parka hood down low and put on a pair of gloves that were in the stolen car.

He opened the door and, at the same time, drew his pistol.

I will not! I will not hurt the clerk!!

And then he saw them.

The female cashier, hands and feet tied with duct tape, trying to speak through her bound mouth.

The man, with a mask like a pro wrestler, pushing her to the floor and holding a knife to her neck.

The man was large, over six feet tall, and he wasn’t alone. There were three criminals in total, and when they saw Hamazura open the narrow door, one said something in Russian.

<“Who are you?”>

Hamazura, who couldn’t understand it, simply replied with the Japanese words he’d prepared beforehand.

“This is a robbery. Hands in the air.”

Bang-bang-ba-bang!! Takitsubo heard several gunshots fire in quick succession.

When she turned to look from her passenger seat in the stolen car, she spotted Shiage Hamazura leaving the store and heading her way. It seemed like the robbery was over. He was holding several large beige paper bags in either hand. They must have been filled with a lot of food—a long baguette was sticking out of one bag, and she could see the edges of what looked like a knit scarf and a rolled-up coat in another.

As Hamazura opened the driver’s side door and climbed in, Takitsubo asked, “Hamazura. Did it work?”

“The clerk was, like, super-thankful, and she gave me all sorts of free gifts!! She even said she’d fill the car’s tank, too!!”

“?”

With a confused Takitsubo inside, the stolen car started moving again.

2

Accelerator was stowed away on a freight train.

The Trans-Federation Railroad.

It was the world’s longest railroad. Spanning the entire Eurasian continent, it normally took over two weeks to run from its first station to the last stop. But right now, this specific time, seemed to be an exception. The commencement of World War III made it necessary to transport large quantities of military materiel. Trains were completely ignoring their normal schedules and also traveling at high speeds that disregarded safety regulations.

Either they’d been preparing for this for a while now or they’d pulled out a prototype from a research lab somewhere. The freight train Accelerator was on traveled at over five hundred kilometers per hour—fast enough to rival Maglev trains. The leading car was cone shaped like a fighter jet or space shuttle, and the cars’ walls were textured, like the latest competitive low-drag swimsuits.

War…What nonsense.

For a time, Accelerator gave thought to the possibility that the recent hostilities were part of an Academy City machination to chase down Last Order and him, but eventually he came to the conclusion that he was definitely too paranoid. Acts that were this conspicuous weren’t Academy City’s style, which he knew from having worked in its underworld until just the other day. In fact, he was sure they preferred doing things in ways that would keep their dirty laundry as low profile as possible.

They’d put on quite a show in a French city called Avignon, but there must have been something that’d forced them to do so, though he didn’t know exactly what that something would have been.

However…

…Putting aside whether that shithole Academy City plotted all this, I still can’t deny the possibility that they have some ulterior motive in all this.

Academy City’s influence was vast. Normally, they would have taken decisive action before things had escalated to a large-scale conflict. And yet, now there was a war that threatened to bring down the entire science-dominated world. It wasn’t bizarre to assume something significant had happened.

What’s more, Academy City had answered the provocations. Maybe there was something they wanted so badly that they were willing to go to war.

None of that mattered to Accelerator, though. At the moment, that wasn’t the most pressing matter for him.

Damn it…

It was the fact that he wasn’t alone.

Next to him was a girl who looked like she was around ten.

Last Order.

A clone made from the somatic cells of the third-ranked Level Five. She’d been used to cause a monster called Aiwass to manifest into the world; an act which was now putting a major burden on her brain. She couldn’t even walk around freely because of it, and even now, she was lying there limply.

She always wore a button-down shirt over a camisole, but right now she had a thick blanket on top of all that. It had been in the freight train. Accelerator had found mostly white winter clothes, which he’d taken for himself and put on.

“…Where are we? asks Misaka asks Misaka, looking around.”

“On a train.”

“What about what about Yomikawa? asks Misaka asks Misaka.”

“Not here right now. But you’ll see her soon. I promise.”

“Okay…” Last Order’s words cut off for a moment. “If we were all together, Yomikawa could have made stewed Salisbury steak again, says Misaka says Misaka, kinda disappointed.”

“…”

“But this is okay, says Misaka says Misaka, relieved. I finally got to see your face again after so long, says Misaka says Misaka, reaching her hand out.”

So she said, but her small hand didn’t move.

Her fingertips merely trembled and shook in place.

Whether or not she realized this, Last Order continued: “Let’s all have dinner together again, suggests Misaka suggests Misaka. Yomikawa’s stew was really good, brags Misaka brags Misaka.”

Though she smiled, it looked painful for her just to speak.

…How did it come to this? Accelerator, hunched into a ball, clenched his teeth. What did this brat ever do? Was it bad enough that she deserved to end up like this? She can’t even move her own fingers. Why does this kid have to go through this shit?

The only sound he could hear was the unpleasant creaking every time his jaw grew firmer.

There was no freedom or safety for her here.

Accelerator harbored an intense rage toward something—a vague sense of fate that permeated the world. He knew it wasn’t a matter of hating someone in particular. But he still couldn’t help but feel angry.

His hand gripped his modern-design crutch handle hard enough to crush it.

A global-scale war had begun. All kinds of people from nations around the world were probably fighting for what was important to each of them.

But.

There was nobody to fight for her.

People across the entire planet were ready to fight with their lives on the line, but not a single person stood up to rescue Last Order, who hadn’t done anything wrong.

“…It’s bullshit…,” murmured Accelerator.

He’d come this far in order to fight against how unreasonable that was. One girl, destined to be destroyed in the process of some plan someone had concocted…To save her, to fight against her cruel fate, Accelerator had thrown away his position, his pride, and everything else to come to Russia.

Go to Russia.

Aiwass—the rule-breaking entity who had once thoroughly thrashed Accelerator—had told him to go there. If he could find something in that place, he might be able to save Last Order.

He didn’t know what was supposed to be in this country.

It wasn’t even clear how much of what Aiwass said could be trusted.

But.

…I’ll do it. Accelerator quietly hardened his resolve…Either way, I knew I couldn’t save the brat if we stayed in Academy City. That means I have to look for other ways. The blabber that came out of Aiwass’s mouth doesn’t even matter.

Accelerator was Academy City’s top-ranked Level Five. Last Order was a unique specimen that formed the core of an Academy City project. It was possible that Russia would treat them like a threatening strategic weapon and an object of crucial military value. But he didn’t care about any of that, either. He wasn’t entirely happy that someone might mistake them for agents of that rotten city, but he didn’t need to clear up every single misunderstanding. Right now, he had one goal. If anyone got in the way, no matter the reason, he’d smash them to pieces and keep on charging.

Just then—

Grr-gam!! He heard a noise from overhead.

It sounded like thick metal being dented.

The freight train container had probably warped. Accelerator looked up as the noise happened a second time, then a third.

It wasn’t just this car.

Even the sound of the train on the tracks wasn’t enough to muffle this strange sound, and he heard it coming from various other spots on the train as well. Not only from the ceiling, either—he heard it from the walls and underneath the floor, too.

At the same time, there was an angry shout in Russian and then several gunshots.

The shouts quickly became screams.

Accelerator deduced that someone had jumped onto the freight train during its high-speed transit. There were only so many who could jump onto a vehicle going over five hundred kilometers per hour.

Academy City.

…They’ve come for us.

“What’s wrong? asks Misaka asks Misaka.”

He heard a little girl’s tiny voice.

Slowly, Accelerator examined Last Order, who was lying on the floor. Number One took a handkerchief out of Last Order’s pocket, folded it up, and laid it over her eyes.

To prevent her from seeing a world filled with blood.

“…Nothing,” he said, reaching for his electrode collar.

This was the switch that would let him wield his power as Academy City’s strongest monster.

“Please don’t get in fights like that again, asks Misaka asks Misaka.”

“…Yeah, I promise,” he said curtly, lying to cut off the conversation.

Normally, Last Order could have severed his connection to the Misaka network and taken all his power. And yet, nothing happened. Did that mean she couldn’t even perform a simple action like that in her current state?

Lingering for a moment, Accelerator peered down into Last Order’s blindfolded face.

Eventually, he quietly got to his feet.

…To smash every last person who could possibly pose a threat to that little girl’s life.

Bam!!

A moment later, Accelerator’s slim body flew up, tearing through the steel ceiling and jumping onto the freight train roof.

After seeing the young man appear from the fissure, which now looked like torn vinyl, the assailants backed away a little. They had been atop the freight train, buffeted by incredible gusts of wind.

White powered suits.

Soldiers, all armed with the same equipment. About ten in all.

In contrast to their surprisingly slim upper bodies, their legs were extremely thick. Special models, probably, designed purely for assisting movement. They could obviously move swiftly, but they’d also be outfitted with all the necessary mechanisms to maintain proper balance and soften impacts to compensate for the increased speed.

There was a large variety of powered suits, ranging from those designed for construction work to disaster rescue models. The military ones used for the invasion of Avignon seemed to have been deployed to Russia, too, probably because they were in the middle of a newly hatched World War. However, the models facing Accelerator were clearly different: It was as if their designers had completely ignored development or maintenance costs in favor of simply aiming for the absolute best thing possible. The bigwigs who had dispatched this team must have really wanted this operation to succeed.

Though he was surrounded by heavy weaponry, Accelerator didn’t waver.

He looked around with shining red eyes, then spoke softly to himself.

“…You’re trash. And you’re really getting under my skin.”

A Russian soldier trembled with fear.

He had never gone through the harsh training to prepare him for a fight on the front lines. Logistics was his specialty—making sure the supplies necessary for war got where they needed to go. But despite that, he was still a soldier. His resolve wasn’t so fragile that he’d hesitate when a gun was pointed at him.

But the scene unfolding before his eyes wasn’t something so mundane.

Terrifying white machine soldiers had suddenly jumped onto the freight train.

And then—

An unknown monster with white hair and red eyes destroyed them all with one attack.

Roofs were broken. Walls were blown off. Intense winds were coming in through the gaps. Several machine soldiers were kicked outside. A container car, made of steel at least two inches thick, ripped apart like paper by mere human limbs. This was no regular feat. He knew about Japan’s Academy City scientific development of supernatural powers, but seeing it up close and personal was an entirely different story.

“Tsk. That wasn’t enough to kill you?” muttered the monster, peering outside. That was all he said after kicking people off a train running over five hundred kilometers per hour. This wasn’t an issue of identifying which was the monster. Neither was in any way normal.

The monster checked around.

A moment later, a wall separating two freight train cars tore open, and a giant machine soldier jumped through. It had appeared directly to the monster’s side—but the white creature wasn’t bothered. It waved a hand, and the mechanical soldier’s armor, which weighed who knew what, was blasted into bits and blown away.

Something the machine soldiers had been carrying was lying at the monster’s feet.

Probably loot that had been stolen earlier.

The object was a suitcase made of duralumin. The battered remains of handcuffs were hanging off the handle. It had originally been attached to the Russian soldier’s wrist, but a flick of one machine soldier’s finger had easily torn the chain off.

The monster headed for the suitcase, but the Russian soldier couldn’t stop it.

If the monster turned its attention toward him, he was sure he’d die. It was like he’d been thrown into a small cage with a predator.

The suitcase was locked, but the monster opened it as easily as one might open a wallet. Or rather, it was supposed to have had a lock on it—but the monster had used brute force to crush the locking mechanism itself.

“…What’s this?” muttered the creature.

The Russian soldier hadn’t been told what was inside. And what came out of it were dozens of parchment pages. On them were inscriptions written in old ink, bringing to mind eerie curses or magic circles.

It was a meaningless sham. Some people might have held vague anticipations or anxiety toward magic charms. But would they think that following the instructions would actually cause a crazy demon to emerge in real life? For example, if a murder occurred and an eyewitness seriously claimed that a demon did it, what would everyone else think?

However…

The military’s higher-ups probably hadn’t ordered him to carry a handcuffed suitcase stuffed with something useless in it. And machine soldiers that looked like they were from Academy City had come for it…

What is going on here? thought the Russian soldier.

Had Academy City fallen for a diversionary tactic concocted by Russian officers?

Or…

Was the parchment in that suitcase actually so valuable that an Academy City special forces team would do everything in their power to steal it?

“…That’s interesting,” muttered the monster to itself.

An insane smile rose to the creature’s lips—and that, above all else, seemed to be a sign for the Russian soldier that it wasn’t just any ordinary parchment.

“This operation was as important as recovering me, Academy City’s strongest Level Five…Can’t exactly see the effects yet, but this might be connected to those other laws that shithead was talking about.”

3

And Touma Kamijou was in Russia as well.

It was late October, but everything around him was already covered in white snow. A few centimeters of accumulation wasn’t enough to completely stop public transportation, but it was rough on his basketball shoes and feet. There were spots where the stuff had melted into cold water that soaked through his shoes, and a stinging chill tormented his fingers.

He was wearing his school uniform. Normally, that would have been inconvenient, but now, he was actually impressed at the wide scope of environments that it could handle…Of course, maybe that was because it used Academy City–made textile technology. He certainly would have been happier to have a coat, but he couldn’t ask for luxuries in a situation like this.

War…

It was a word that was hard to process if someone suddenly brought it up. According to Queen Elizard of England, the way this happened was “unnatural,” even after taking into account current international politics. If it was likely that the Roman Orthodox Church and Russian Catholic Church were cooperating behind the scenes, then did that mean Fiamma of the Right was the true mastermind pulling all the strings?

Was that really all there was to it?

The officially stated reason was simple, and it would be easy to cling to that, accepting it at face value. But didn’t Academy City seem way too eager to answer with military force? They’d dispatched huge amounts of troops and unmanned weapons into Russia as soon as the war started. Almost like they’d been preparing for this for years…

What was actually happening backstage?

Kamijou was close to the center of this war, but he was just a high school student. He couldn’t figure out anything about what was going on beyond the surface.

But.

If stopping Fiamma would stave off the war for now, he could see what he needed to do. Besides, stopping that man’s plans was linked to an extremely personal reason Kamijou had for fighting.

A certain girl named Index.

She had the special trait of having completely memorized 103,000 grimoires, but other than that, she was a totally normal girl. And someone was after her vast stores of knowledge.

Fiamma of the Right.

He had stolen the Soul Arm needed to freely extract the knowledge from Index at a distance. When he activated it, Index’s mind and body had suffered immense strain, and she fell into unconsciousness.

In order to save her, Kamijou needed to defeat Fiamma as fast as he could and destroy the remote-control Soul Arm.

That was why he’d come all the way to Russia, where Fiamma of the Right was apparently hiding out, but…

“…Why are you here again, Lesser?” Kamijou asked heavily.

Some might have understandably stared blankly when hearing the name Lesser. She was a member of a British sorcerer’s society reserve force called New Light. When the second princess, Carissa, had used the Curtana Original to initiate a coup d’état, they were the ones who had secretly dug up the Curtana and transported it to her.

Her skin was white, and her stature short. She was probably somewhere in her teens. Her long black hair was tied into braids at the tips. Her outfit consisted of a jacket on top of a lacrosse uniform, but the thing that stood out most was probably the “tail” coming out from her rear. It was like a flat chain running through a clear tube. After adding in the arrowhead-like tip at the end, she had a somewhat mischievous air about her.

When they’d met before, Kamijou was pretty sure it had been as enemies.

Those ill feelings had faded once the coup d’état ended, but that didn’t make her unexpected presence in Russia any more sensible.

Lesser, while swinging the tail she was so proud of left and right, replied to her companion’s reasonable question.

“Hmm? Well, it’s not because the British royal family ordered me to, or because I have a grudge against Fiamma of the Right, or because I want to be part of the Kamijou faction, or anything like that.”

Her tone was incredibly offhand.

“But if you dying here would be against the United Kingdom’s interests as a whole, then we figured we might as well be supporting you…I wonder if it’s okay to say we? Bayloupe might grab my butt again…”

In the middle of her response, she fell into talking-to-herself mode…He’d gotten a sense of it when they first met, but Kamijou deduced she had some extremely self-centered thought processes.

Without a care for whatever Kamijou might think of her, a mean smile made its way onto her youthful face. “Well, you can just think of it as the two of us using each other. Considering you can use a pro sorceress for combat, it’s not a bad deal for you, is it?”

“…I forget, but are you even that strong? I seem to remember you fleeing all over London that night with a weird bag in your hand.”

“Shall I send you flying to prove it? Necessarius can’t give you any backup, right? Maybe you should value me a little bit more. Oh, yes—when it comes to purely using the Jarngreipr, I’m better than Bayloupe. As long as there’s no Gjallarhorn involved, I’ll never lose,” said Lesser, adding that she wouldn’t be able to whine if it was a real fight. “Also!! These Steel Gloves have been powered up!! Ta-daa—the Lesser Special Custom! Red laser things shoot out from the tips, see, and these bladed fingers can grab anything they’re not touching, no matter how far away it is, and swing it around!!”

“…I didn’t ask for any of that…”

“You really don’t think I’ll be of any use in a fight, do you? Maybe it’s because the coup d’état came off as so flashy in comparison…,” muttered Lesser, downcast, before apparently deciding to appeal in a different area. “Besides, it would be easier for you in a lot of ways to have someone who can speak Russian translate for you, right?”

“Wait, before all that, I snuck into Russia in secret. How did you get that information…?”

Right after the coup d’état had ended, he’d told Elizard and Stiyl he’d be going to Russia, but he never gave them a concrete method or schedule for it. How did Lesser know where he’d be despite that?

Actually, as someone who had marched into Russia alone without telling anyone, suddenly meeting up with a friend was pretty pathetic. Maybe this wasn’t the time to be saying such things, but he still couldn’t help feeling that way.

Lesser seemed to pick up on Kamijou’s troubled face. “Ha-ha. Were you feeling guilty about Index, asleep in the cathedral in London? You said you’d do your best to save her and everything, and the very first thing you do is meet up with another woman.”

“Guh…?!”

“And now I have a piece of welcome information for you. I, Lesser, do indeed have a tail coming out of my skirt—but to tell the truth, I’m not wearing leggings under there. I’m only wearing panties.”

“What do you expect me to do with useless information like that?!”

“Go behind me!! And flip it!! Forget about all your old flames!!”

“Everything you’re saying warrants me punching you in the nose, you know!!” shouted Kamijou, blue veins popping on his temples.

But Lesser, without responding or giving up, cheerfully swung her tail around and asked, “Besides, how are you going to look for Fiamma of the Right in this big country?”

She made it sound like she suspected he didn’t have any clue what to do.

“Russia is really big, you know. It basically connects the Eurasian continent from west to east in a straight line, and not many countries have more than nine time zones. This place seems far too large to randomly bump into a particular person.”

“Or so you’d think.”

“?” Lesser gave the unexpected answer a blank look.

In response, Kamijou said, “…How many sorcerers do you think I’ve fought until now? At this point, I’m slowly getting used to how they do things.”

4

The Strait of Dover.

A thirty-kilometer-wide waterway between the United Kingdom and France.

A sea full of bloody history, and a place that became a crucial strategic point whenever the two countries’ relations worsened, ever since long ago. And that sea was once again about to guzzle the blood of many lives.

“Puritans and Knights’ combined-force deployment complete.”

Kaori Kanzaki nodded quietly in response to the voice.

At the moment, they weren’t standing on land. They were on a boat.

Giant hundred-meter sailboats made of wood dotted the sea. All were magically reinforced ships, tougher than normal warships and with greater maneuverability to boot.

One could call it a strange sight to behold. Not about the sight of so many sailboats, but that a war between sorcerers had escalated into something so massive.

“Times really have changed, haven’t they?” Agnes Sanctis asked from where she stood next to Kanzaki.

The petite young woman held her palm above her brow as if in a clumsy salute as she looked out over the water. “I hear they’re calling the coup d’état in Britain the British Halloween. And they’re treating it like one of the world’s seven great mysteries, like Nessie and the Nazca Lines. People sure are tough, eh? It might not be something they can understand logically, but they’ll accept it eventually, even if time is the only thing pushing them.”

“Though it doesn’t appear that any have realized it was actually due to something called sorcery.” Kanzaki slowly sighed. “Besides, the fact that Japan’s Academy City is scientifically developing strange supernatural powers is somewhat known. The principles are completely different, but it means people have just a little bit of tolerance. They’ll figure that something like it exists somewhere out there, so maybe it was actually close at hand.”

Though as she said that, she could feel something tugging at her, deep in her throat. To stabilize the faction that they called the sorcery side, general awareness of the science side had been a big help. If not, there might have been a much more severe panic. Something had burrowed its way inside without anyone knowing, and it had Kanzaki a little on guard.

“In any case,” she said, trying to change the topic, “if they get through us here, it’s a straight line to London. I’d like to avoid skirmishes as much as possible, but if the French faction attacks, we must hold the line at all costs.”

“But we know they’re basically one hundred percent coming, right?” replied the small nun in command of her own unit, sniffing. “The UK and France were in an extremely dangerous and tense situation even before the coup broke out…And though I am absolutely loath to admit it, it’s all thanks to the elites in the Roman Orthodox Church. It was already a hotbed, and then World War III broke out. Plus we’re getting glimpses of Roman Orthodox and Russian Catholic shadows behind it. France not attacking the UK is an impossibility, eh? Can’t say whether it’ll be Orthodox vanguards or if France will try to put an end to the historical and magical conflicts between it and Britain, though.”

It happened just as Agnes was speaking: She received a transmission from Agatha, a nun working under her.

“Intervention confirmed from the French side!! They’re on their way— Please take caution!!”

A moment later:

All at once, the waters of Dover, locked perpetually in gentle waves, hardened everywhere past the French national border. It was like ice was spreading in the blink of an eye, cracking as it froze over the seawater.

“Salt?!”

“Rotten bastards. It looks like their plan is to give themselves suitable footing while robbing our ships of their mobility!”

Shadows ran like arrows.

Not just one or two, either.

More than a hundred—perhaps a thousand—sorcerers were running across the hardened white waters in a straight line from the French border toward Kanzaki and the others. At this rate, it would be a slaughter. Like orcas forced up onto land and made into fodder for a murder of crows, they would be crushed.

If their ships were rendered useless, over half the combat force Kanzaki and the others had assembled would essentially be eliminated.

But they couldn’t roll over without a fight.

The Born Again Amakusa-Style Crossist Church’s sorcerers, Kanzaki first and foremost, excelled in close-quarters combat. They jumped down from their ships, moving to intercept the French sorcerers.

And then Kanzaki noticed something strange at her feet.

“?!”

Hastily, she jumped to the side.

A big hole suddenly opened up in the salty ground she’d just been standing on. If she’d been a split-second late, she’d have fallen into the sea. And had she been robbed of her ability to move, they would have undoubtedly focused their attacks on her.

…We knew we’d have to fight them with all our strength already, but if it’s going to be like this, too…?!

Now that the ships couldn’t move, staying on them would be disadvantageous.

But alighting onto the salt ground would give their opponents the initiative.

It was a difficult situation no matter the case, but then—

“Is this all it takes to make you flinch? I thought you were a force to protect our United Kingdom.”

A woman’s voice rang out, overflowing with an intimidating presence.

A moment later, a thin film spread over the salty ground as though coating it over. This time, it wasn’t from France’s side. The phenomenon widened in one breath to cover the entire sea, encroaching upon France from the UK’s side.

They’d secured their footing.

Kanzaki tightly gripped her sheath, and the sheath sent over twenty French sorcerers trying to surround her flying into the air.

As it happened, Kanzaki looked toward the woman’s voice.

She was standing there.

Clothed in a scarlet dress—their nation’s second princess.

5

Fiamma of the Right.

Leader of God’s Right Seat, a secret Roman Orthodox organization. The Church was said to preside over two billion followers worldwide, and naturally, he’d been the one manipulating its various branches.

However, Vento of the Front, Terra of the Left, and Acqua of the Back—the other members of God’s Right Seat—had been defeated one after another or had otherwise voluntarily parted ways with the organization.

At a time like that, in order to replenish the diminished combat strength, what would he try to take advantage of?

Specifically, within the Roman Orthodox–Russian Catholic alliance?

“And what I came up with was: the Russian army,” said Kamijou as he walked through the snow. “Obviously, Fiamma doesn’t think of anyone as a friend. Maybe he only wants to use them like a bulwark, something that’ll buy him some time so his own plans don’t get interrupted. But he’ll exploit everything he can. If he wants free rein in Russia, it would be easier and look more natural to move around people already in Russia instead of inserting a Roman Orthodox group. Which means that if you keep track of where the Russian army goes, you’re bound to catch a glimpse of Fiamma’s shadow. If we keep tabs on whatever’s odd about the military’s movements, we’ll run into him.”

“You were saying Fiamma entered Russia to look for Sasha Kreutzev, right?” Lesser asked.

“I don’t know why,” admitted Kamijou, honestly holding up the white flag at the question, “but if that was really all he wanted to do, then he wouldn’t have a reason to go to Russia personally.”

“Huh?”

The notion seemed to overturn the very premise.

“Fiamma could have simply given orders to the Russian army and the Russian Catholic Church and made them search this huge country. He could have sat in an armchair by a fireplace and waited for results. But he didn’t.”

“Which means…he’s after something else, too?”

“Something he has to be there for personally, like to touch it or something.”

As Lesser listened to what her traveling companion was saying, she peered at his face.

She couldn’t quite tell if he was stupid or smart, but she had to admit that kind of judgment probably came down to a matter of specialization. The boy couldn’t show how insightful he was unless it was on a very limited scope, like a jigsaw puzzle, where he had to fit pieces together. People good at video games had reflexes and kinetic vision, but in other fields—like hand-to-hand combat, for instance—they couldn’t put those skills to good use. His case was most likely something similar.

In fact, it was more than likely…

For him, the girl sleeping in that cathedral in London was probably a “piece” of the puzzle.

“But we’re in the middle of World War III right now, remember? Military operations are happening all over Russia, big and small. They probably didn’t expect China and India to side with Academy City, either, so they panicked and sent troops there, too. How can you pinpoint exactly which of those things are connected to Fiamma, out of all that chaos?”

“Fiamma would definitely try to hide his plans,” Kamijou answered. “He would take advantage of the Russian army but keep it a secret from them. Any missions that seem perfectly reasonable at first glance but then reveal a completely different nature after a tiny change in perspective, like with an optical illusion—those are the suspicious ones…For example, an operation where mixing in the word magic seems like it would cause some wild chemical reaction.”

“And that’s what led you here?”

“If it didn’t, I wouldn’t have come all this way,” muttered Kamijou, setting his sights beyond the white snow-filled scenery.

“…Wait for me.”

6

The Elizalina Alliance of Independent Nations.

Several nations that had rebelled against Russian hegemony and gained independence had formed this alliance. Like the EU, it had a common currency, and the passage of citizens and goods among its member countries didn’t require a passport.

From a Russian standpoint, this alliance was a thorn in their side, and even before the war, they’d always considered invading if they could find a casus belli. And now, with the present turmoil distracting everyone, that opportunity had arrived.

“It seems like the Russian army is trying to set up a base near the border,” said Lesser, possibly having gathered information from nearby residents beforehand. “Their basic composition is all-in-one vehicles armed with missile launchers and grenade launchers. It looks like they’re planning to lob explosives into the Alliance borders from thirty or forty kilometers away.”

If they had a range of forty kilometers, that meant their weapons could reach an area that was larger than all of Japan’s Academy City combined. Plus, those armored vehicles would be deployed not only inside the base but around it, too, making their actual attack range as a whole twice, possibly even three times that of the nominal number.

“But that’s not what they’re really after.”

“…”

“If they seriously wanted to bomb Alliance territory, they would ask the air force to lend a helping hand and use attack fighters or bombers. Then they could virtually ignore firing range entirely. They’d be able to instantly turn every last patch of ground into a sea of flames…They’re trying to use weapon specs as a distraction. Those bases were never actually needed in the first place.”

And then it happened.

Greeeeee!! A shrill roar passed them by overhead. The sound was different than a normal passenger plane—it was unique to supersonic speeds.

However, the source wasn’t the engine of a Russian Air Force military craft.

It was the opposite. Hostile supersonic bombers made in Academy City were tearing through the Russian sky. That being said, their current goal wasn’t to set cities on fire but apparently to drop supplies and weapons, one after another, for constructing bases directly on the Russian mainland.

Normally, airborne units weren’t used like that.

True, if it was possible to airdrop everything into the middle of enemy territory and build a stronghold there, that would provide clear advantages…but only if those strongholds could be maintained. In practice, it would be nigh impossible to secure the land routes needed to transport large amounts of goods, so even if such a fortress was created, it would become isolated in a very short time.

But Academy City had solved this problem with brute force.

Their supersonic bombers could rip through the skies at over seven thousand kilometers per hour. Boldly passing over the Russian military’s air defense network, outrunning any interception aircraft with overwhelming speed. The planes were monsters, and they swiftly but surely supplied the strongholds with a huge, steady stream of goods. Thanks to that, hastily constructed Academy City strongholds already dotted the vast Russian nation.

“That really is something,” said Lesser as she beheld this technology of a world far removed from her own, sounding somehow laid-back. “Did you hear? When Russia declared war, Academy City apparently said they didn’t have any reason to fight, but that it wasn’t right to stay silent if there was a way to stop the conflict. If we’re purely comparing each side’s weapon strength, Academy City probably isn’t too worried about their matchups.”

Kamijou was silent for a moment at Lesser’s remark, but eventually, he offered, “…Wouldn’t Russia want to shoot down those big aircraft at any cost? They’re insanely strong and keep scattering enemy weapons around.” While looking up at the military aircraft passing through the air every twenty or thirty minutes, he said, “Even cats and dogs would know from the engine sound that this place is a major avenue. Despite that, the Russian base only has surface weapons and no runways for jets, right? I haven’t even seen many Russian jets. Something’s off.”

Was the conviction in Kamijou’s statement because he belonged to the science side?

Lesser was technically a combat professional herself, but when it came to science-based warfare, she didn’t have much insight to add.

“How did you figure that out?”

“From a map,” said Kamijou, showing her a folded-up paper map that could be bought anywhere.

Lesser frowned. “You can figure that out just by looking at a map?”

“No. It’s not like I’m a professional soldier. As if I could possibly figure out what’s going on behind the scenes just by looking at army formations.” He shook the folded map. “If a seriously important military operation was going on, they wouldn’t be selling maps like this in the first place. In fact, they’re apparently rounding them all up in a bunch of other regions. But there weren’t any restrictions like that in this area. It was oddly easy to get, given the scope of the base. They don’t want people to think the base is important. They loosened the security on purpose. But that was why it stood out.”

“Oh,” said Lesser, her reaction not quite making it clear whether she was impressed or not really listening at all. “Does that mean Fiamma is in that base?”

“Actually, I’m not sure there’s even a base to begin with.”

“But there’s still some of the Russian army there, right? How are you going to get in?”

“Well…”

As Kamijou was about to explain, they heard a car engine from far away. It thrummed quite deeply. This wasn’t a passenger vehicle—it sounded more like a big truck.

Upon examination, he was able to see several large vehicles in a line driving across the white snowfields in the distance. He couldn’t tell their exact models, but their vital spots were reinforced with heavy-looking metal, giving them a somewhat warlike impression.

If that was all it was, the scene wouldn’t have been unusual. It was wartime.

But something was obviously strange.

The front and rear vehicles…

Those two were carriages, drawn by two horses each. And the horses were made out of silvery metal. It wasn’t that they were wearing any kind of armor—they were horses completely made of metal running across the snow.

The carriage also wasn’t mundane wood or cloth. It was covered by an outer shell that resembled a Western suit of armor.

This time, Kamijou was the one who frowned. “What are those?”

“Are you all out of science explanations to brag about?”

“Not the trucks—those weird carriages. What part of them says science to you? Did the Russian military develop some kind of horse-shaped pet robots with their unique technology or something?”

“Hmm. I believe those are Sleipnirs, made by the Russian Catholic Church. I’ve heard they were developing legs for moving across snowfields.”

“…Which means we’re up against sorcerers again, huh?”

“As for the trucks, they probably just borrowed them from the army. Sorcerers don’t need to know much about cutting-edge science or technology to simply drive them.”

For the moment, Kamijou decided to imitate Lesser and lie prone on the snow, but when the stinging chill came through his non-waterproofed clothes, he quickly bounced back up.

Lesser gave him a look that was both amused and resigned. “If you’re not going to do it right, you’re just going to seem more suspicious.”

“Yeah, I get it, but…,” said Kamijou, breathing puffs of white air. “You said the Russian Catholic Church, right? I wonder what’s in those trucks. Soul Arms they can use in the war, I guess?”

He hadn’t asked the question thinking he’d get an answer. However, Lesser had a few unexpected words:

“Would it be residents?”

“?”

“Look,” she said, taking the map out of Kamijou’s hands and shaking a finger in the general direction of where the “suspicious base” was. “They want people to think there’s a hastily made base here for the purpose of attacking the Alliance, right? Wouldn’t people have been living there before they built it?”

“…”

Kamijou’s eyebrow twitched.

Whether or not she noticed it, Lesser continued in a carefree tone, “By the way, that line of trucks escorted by those Sleipnir carriages are heading this way. Once they get past us, they’ll reach a concentration camp for political prisoners. I don’t know what excuse they’re using for the eviction, but…If they’re taking those people’s homes away like this, the Russian Church must not think very much of their lives. They might have forced nearby residents to leave so they could start up a base they made in secret.”

“There’s more than one settlement?” Kamijou peered at the map from next to Lesser. “How many were originally where they planned to make the base?”

“About eight, with around twenty or thirty people each. Seems like most of them are uncultivated and not very developed. It might be a tight fit, but with that many trucks, they might get all of them inside— Hey, wait, where are you going?”

Lesser involuntarily called after Kamijou, who had unexpectedly walked off and left her behind.

He was headed for a log cabin nearby. The entire area had nothing else of note all the way to the horizon, so maybe this was meant to be a resting spot, like a mountain lodge.

For whatever reason, the unoccupied log cabin was furnished with a single four-wheel-drive vehicle. Judging by the markings on its side, it technically belonged to the Russian military. Did that mean this log cabin–like building was for observation or keeping watch over something? After nearing the vehicle, Kamijou didn’t think twice before smashing the window with his elbow and unlocking the door from the inside.

The glass shattering made a very loud noise, but Lesser didn’t shrink away.

In fact, she sighed, appalled. “…What on earth are you getting that toolbox out for? You’re not planning to save those in-transit residents, right? With just that L-bar?”

“We don’t know how many people we’re up against, and we have no idea what kind of magic they’ll use. A situation like this won’t be so easy that we can just dive in headfirst and hope for the best, right? It’s not like I want to jump into a battle for fun, or anything.”

Noticing that he didn’t deny he would try to save the in-transit residents, Lesser pressed her index fingers to her temples. She’d been under the impression since the London coup d’état that this kid had a very important screw loose in his head somewhere.

…Still, that’s exactly why I’ll probably have a chance to get him to work for Britain. Simply a matter of wooing him the right way. Mm.

As Lesser was privately confirming her own objective, Kamijou stuck the L-shaped bar into the snow. Taking sturdy nylon twine out of the toolbox, he glanced at his cell phone’s screen and the analog clock that he went out of his way to use, then put the twine around the bar in the ground.

“?”

He stuck an iron stake a short distance away, then tied the twine to it as well, drawing it taut. Lesser frowned.

…A ground survey?

That was the first thing she thought of, because she possessed the knowledge and skills to know that in large magic rituals, you needed to gauge an exact direction and align the magic circle’s size exactly with your objective.

“What are you up to anyway?”

“Can’t you tell? I’m measuring the direction. Specifically, for the air route.”

Kamijou stuck several more stakes into the snow, drawing the twine around each one, close to the ground.

“Right. So you’re not going to make a big scene with an L-bar in your hand?”

“Come on, you’re treating me too much like an idiot. How many people are they using just to escort that convoy? Why would I walk over there and pick a fight with a bunch of professional sorcerers? And professional killers, too. What is that, an introductory paragraph for a character in a kid’s manga? There’s no way I can beat guys like that in a fight…My right hand has a special power, but they could overwhelm me with their numbers, and then I won’t be able to do anything.”

“In that case, what do you plan to do?”

“First, I want to ask something. These Russian Catholic people don’t care about the lives of the residents they’re transporting, right?”

“If they did, they wouldn’t be bringing them to a concentration camp. I know Japan is too peaceful to understand the concept of such a place, but can’t you at least imagine what it’s like inside?”

“Well.” For some reason, Kamijou grinned. “That’s fine, then. Maybe this will work.”

“Like I said, what are you planning on doing?”

“Nothing too difficult. We’re just using everything we have available.”

After he finished pulling the twine around several more stakes, he pointed overhead.

Lesser looked up without argument and saw a thinly stretched condensation trail.

7

Brasche P. Marhaisk frowned.

He was at the front of the prisoner escort truck convoy, controlling a small, eight-wheeled carriage hitched to a Sleipnir. The carriage was covered in silver metal plates in the shape of a pill bug, looking like it was armored.

Still, his expression wasn’t due to a bad mood. To increase the durability of the escort vehicle, the driver only had a single thin, horizontal slit with glass in it to look through, so it wasn’t just Brasche—basically all armor drivers made this sort of face, whether magical or scientific.

White snowfields stretched out as far as the eye could see. It was almost impossible to tell the asphalt and the ground apart.

At a glance, it would seem like a driver could ignore the road and floor it. However, that wasn’t actually how it worked. The problem was the snow. No one could tell from its surface how deep it went. It wasn’t possible to see if there was a thick fallen tree buried in it, either.

Brasche wanted to avoid at all costs breaking the eight-legged horse Soul Arm by tripping over something carelessly. After all, Russia was nothing if not big. Its urban areas were some of the most developed in the world, but on the other hand, empty spaces were seriously empty. In fact, this area was about as unideal as a desert when it came to bad places to be stranded.

And if someone opened a map, the only thing worth writing about this place was “there’s nothing here.” Since it hadn’t been updated for years, you’d never know what was where. Which meant he really didn’t want to veer off the thin road partially hidden under the snow.

“How many more hours until the camp?”

A bored-sounding voice came in from the trucks comprising the convoy.

Over a magical Soul Arm, of course.

“Our population density is way too high, damn it. It’s like a sauna in here.”

“Why not open a door for ventilation?” answered Brasche, not sounding like he cared much. “In about ten seconds, you’ll be begging for the heat to come back.”

Just then, a shrill noise shot by overhead.

An Academy City supersonic bomber.

The HsB-02, was it? They’d gotten reports that those things had changed Avignon, in France, to a lake of molten rock. They seemed to be focusing on transport missions right now instead of bombing runs, but they weren’t the sort of thing that anyone could remain calm about while they were flying overhead.

“Damn it. What’s the regular Russian military doing? Can’t they use SAMs or something?”

“They go at seven thousand kilometers per hour, remember?” replied Brasche. “Even if they locked on and fired, the missile wouldn’t catch it. Academy City seems to think the fundamentals of aerial warfare are beneath them.”

“What about MiGs? Sukhois? Aren’t the air force’s bigger jets good enough to take on American stealth planes?”

“I don’t know. You’re asking the wrong person about science.”

Brasche leveled a baleful gaze at the bomber in the air.

…Thanks to Peter’s interception spell, the age of sorcerers flying in the sky has ended. If not for that…

If that plane had been loaded with bombs, Brasche and the others might have been dead at this exact moment. It’d be a problem if it scattered light, small, airborne tanks with parachutes, too, but when the bombers weren’t doing their real job, it made Brasche feel a lot more humiliated than relieved.

“(…Bullshit. You’d better watch out.)”

It happened a moment after he muttered to himself.

Ba-gam!!

Suddenly, roiling flames burst up on their transport route.

“?!”

It was only about three hundred meters ahead. Frantically, Brasche ordered the Sleipnir pulling the armored carriage to come to a halt. The entire convoy stopped on the road.

It should have been an empty stretch of snow all the way to the horizon.

However, a log cabin sort of building was there, perhaps for people who ran into trouble like engine stalls during their journeys. The explosions had occurred right next to it. Brasche carefully scanned the area and saw what seemed like a four-wheel-drive vehicle there.

And then the explosions continued.

This time, the log cabin itself was blown to pieces. The only manmade object on this vast field of snow had been blasted apart.

These weren’t mere bombs.

The explosions continued along a straight line, as though running along the ground, for over three kilometers. White snow immediately whipped up, followed by the ground lighting up orange. The crust of the earth, melted by enormous heat, made it seem as though a volcanic eruption had cut a swath through Russian lands.

“What the hell?! Are we being bombed?!”

Normally, Brasche wouldn’t have been able to answer his comrade’s words.

But one time, he’d heard something along these lines: that Academy City’s supersonic bombers had once carved a square out of the map of a city called Avignon. That there existed weapons with terrifying destructive power that took advantage of the air friction born of their seven-thousand-plus kilometer-per-hour speeds.

“They finally did it, the bastards…!!”

An unpleasant sweat washed down Brasche’s spine. The convoy, composed of several trucks plus armored carriages, would be easy pickings from the air out on this snowfield with nothing else around them. There was nowhere to hide, and the huge lumps of flying metal could easily get a radar lock on them.

“Hey, can we use an Opila to make it so they won’t target us?!”

“We can’t take our time setting one up,” answered Brasche, recognizing once again the sense of danger he felt. “This is bad. We’d better bail out. If we stay here, they’ll slaughter us.”

“They’re bombing us!! Unknown Academy City superweapons!! If we get out of our vehicles, we’ll have no protection from the explosions!!”

“You saw that power!! With only the Soul Arms we have on us, they’ll reduce us and our vehicle to smithereens! We should make it so they don’t aim for us instead. If we hide ourselves in white camo and spread out over the snowfield, there’s a good chance we’ll live!”

“What do we do about the people from the settlement we captured?!”

“Leave them.” Brasche picked up his trusty staff and headed for the armored carriage’s exit. “Either way, we were bringing them to a concentration camp. Who cares if they end up as fodder for the bombings?!”

Meanwhile.

What Touma Kamijou and Lesser were hoping for was quite simple.

“You said the Steel Gloves you’ve got have been improved, right? Something about the blade fingers not having to touch—and being able to grab anything you hit with that red laser thing even if you’re far away?”

“Yes, but what about it?”

Kamijou pointed overhead in response to her question. “Then could you grab that for a sec?”

“?”

She followed his instructions, still frowning.

“Wait a minute. One more request. If you, like, stick the gloves into the ground, is it possible to go a little farther away and then make them move with your mind?”

“…That sounds like such a pain…”

“You can’t?”

“I can,” said Lesser, sticking the Steel Gloves upside down into the snow and walking a few meters away. From there, she slowly channeled mana into the Soul Arm and grabbed the distant object.

Yes:

An object flying high at an altitude of ten thousand meters, racing ahead at over seven thousand kilometers per hour—a supersonic bomber.

A moment later.

The Steel Gloves, dragged by the supersonic bomber, divided the Russian land in two.

It was a simple matter of air resistance.

Ripping through the space close to the ground, which was mostly air, at over seven thousand kilometers per hour, created an enormous amount of energy.

With a tremendous roar, a line of orange light about three kilometers long shot through the white landscape, tracing the supersonic bomber’s flight route. The ground, melted like magma, threw all the white snow into the air. Likely unable to withstand the friction midway through, the line of destruction crawled to a stop just as the Steel Gloves fell to pieces.

Lesser was the one who was surprised.

“Oooooooooowaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh?! M-my-my Steel Gloves!! My Lesser Special Custom, the only one of its kind!!”

“Hmm. That re-created the Avignon effect pretty well. Maybe the Russian Catholics will be nice enough to let it fool them.”

The carriage–truck convoy, protected with a durable magic spell, was being abandoned in the middle of the snowfield. Kamijou saw a group of tough sorcerers, the likes of whom an average high school student wouldn’t have stood a chance against, running on foot to get as far away from the convoy as they could.

If he’d simply faked an aerial bombing with some explosives, things might not have gone this well. Kamijou was an amateur who couldn’t tell the difference, but explosives came in several varieties, and the way they detonated and the sounds they made were all different. For example, an explosion using propane gas or gasoline wouldn’t have matched that of a bomb and might have clued the guards in.

However, bombings using air friction were a product of Academy City’s special technology. Even when compared to a list of domestic Russian weapons, there wouldn’t be a single comparable reference.

That was why it’d worked as a deception.

Whether professional sorcerers or hardened soldiers, it was possible, at least once, to dupe them.

“If they were transporting something they had to protect with their lives in those trucks, this plan probably wouldn’t have worked so well. But they don’t give a crap about their guests, so they were sure to abandon them in a crisis.”

“…You seem to be feeling very accomplished about something, but those Steel Gloves belonged to me!! How are you going to pay me back for breaking them like that?!”

“How much do Soul Arms cost exactly anyway? Do they even sell them?”

Kamijou, asking offhand questions, broke into a run toward the convoy about three hundred meters ahead. Lesser followed him, muttering under her breath.

It seemed like residents who had been living in the area where they planned to construct the base had been all crammed into the trucks.

Kamijou had gone around to the back of one, but he couldn’t figure out how to get the door open. He tried shaking around the big metal mechanism he found, but it didn’t budge. Lesser had mentioned Russian Catholic sorcerers could have been driving, so thinking they were using a magical lock, he touched it with his right hand, but it had no particular effect.

Then, Lesser reached out from beside him. With a surprisingly simple motion, she easily pulled open the truck door.

The eyes of hunched-over men and women of all ages greeted them.

Some were frightened, others confused.

They feared that the convoy had arrived at their decidedly awful destination—and wondered why it hadn’t been Russian Catholics who had opened the truck door.

Kamijou tried to speak to them to set their minds at ease, but he didn’t know the slightest bit of Russian. He considered using hand and body gestures, but he gave up on that. Next to him, Lesser sucked her teeth.

“Can you tell them we’re escaping and ask for their help?”

“I can’t be bothered, honestly,” noted Lesser. “This act doesn’t seem to be for the United Kingdom’s benefit.”

Kamijou pointed haphazardly back at the snowfield. “If you don’t do it soon, those Russian Catholic sorcerers will realize something’s up and come back.”

“…”

Lesser made a face but seemed to have decided to comply without further argument. Seeing her turn to face the people in the truck, Kamijou went over to another of the trucks. The mechanisms on the doors were the same, and this time, he opened it himself. It would have been a pain to explain over and over again, so he used gestures to instruct them all to go over to where Lesser was.

“How are we going to run away?”

“We can use the trucks. There are probably adults here who can drive, right? In any case, I want them to go to the nearest town.”

“…Well, that’s fine. It’s just that I don’t see much in the way of concealment magic on them. These vehicles will look like they belong to the Russian military, and Academy City’s tanks have been deployed inland, so I hope they don’t get attacked.”

“We’ll take the carriage in the front. The one that resembles a pill bug covered in metal plates.” Kamijou gazed at the small carriage. “That seems like the best thing to keep people from seeing our faces from the outside. I’m clearly Asian, and Lesser…I can’t really tell myself, but I’m sure British people and Russian people have pretty different features and stuff. We’ll want to hide our faces as much as possible. That armored carriage would be perfect for heading for that base, too, but…there’s a problem I wanted to ask you about.”

“You’re not about to say you can’t drive the carriage, are you?”

“If there’s a high school kid these days who can say with a straight face they know how to drive a carriage, I’d like to meet them.”

“Well, if you’re going to put it that way, I’m only in middle school,” said Lesser, nevertheless taking the lead and heading for the armored carriage. She seemed to be rather confident about it.

As Kamijou began to follow her, he felt a sudden tug at the hem of his clothes.

He turned around to a little girl.

She seemed to be trying to tell him something, but she also seemed to understand that the words she and Kamijou used were fundamentally different.

Kamijou slowly removed the small hand grabbing his clothes but, unable to think of any way to get his point across, decided to speak to her in Japanese.

However, his voice never got a chance to come out.

A woman carrying a baby, who appeared to be the girl’s mother, hastily took the girl’s hand and pulled her away from him. He couldn’t understand what the mother was saying either, but hostility and fear filled her eyes.

…World War III—Japanese people from Academy City are Russia’s enemies, huh…?

He felt something dig into him, but without letting it enter his expression, he used Japanese to say everything he wanted to say.

“One day, when I’m in trouble like you, you can just repay the favor. So don’t worry about it too much.”

A quick honking noise came from the armored carriage. Impressed at the horn being no different from a normal automobile, Kamijou ran off toward its call.

8

The armored carriage’s interior couldn’t exactly be called comfortable. It wasn’t cold, thanks to an air conditioner–like Soul Arm set to regulate the temperature inside, but instead, the air was thick with the smell of sweat. Hemmed in by thick steel, they couldn’t see outside either, making it feel oddly claustrophobic.

Inside the parked armored carriage, Lesser had slipped cleanly into the driver’s seat. Nothing exposed there, either—it was totally covered in metal plating. Only the reins connected to the metal horse, the Sleipnir, reached through a slit.

“Wow. I figured it would be muggy in here, but not this muggy.”

“…Does this air-conditioner thing only have two settings, or what? I bet if you turned the dial just a tiny amount, it would get really cold really fast. Well, before that happens, it would probably break if I accidentally touched it with my right hand.”

“Hahhh, screw it—I can’t stand this! Time to undo my shirt buttons and air out my skirt.”

“Bfft!! What’s wrong with you?! I don’t understand why you suddenly do this stuff!!”

“I’m trying to use my sex appeal, so react to it already!! Just push me down, get it over with, and that’s one vanguard down for the sake of Britain!!”

“Hah! I bet she doesn’t even know what any of those things mean, and she’s still running her mouth with a smile on her face! Let me give you a piece of advice as someone who’s ever-so-slightly wiser—you’re really seriously saying some dangerous stuff right now! Be more careful next time!!”

Fool! You fell for it!!

The little devil Lesser, shaking the tail coming out of her miniskirt, gave a wicked smile, as though she’d found a way to counterattack.

“Okay then, fine, I hear you loud and clear!! In that case, let me prove to you just how serious I really am!!”

9

And on the Strait of Dover battlefield, a girl from the Born Again Amakusa-Style Crossist Church, Itsuwa, sensed something cold run down her spine as she clenched her spear in both hands.

“Hah, hawahh?!”

“?! Wh-what’s up, Itsuwa?”

Itsuwa slowly and nervously looked away from Saiji Tatemiya, who was startled at her strange behavior, and said, “N-nothing…I just had a bad feeling, for some reason…”

10

Nothing the late-bloomer was anxious about was happening, of course, and Lesser, gripping the Sleipnir’s reins, was sullenly driving the armored carriage.

“I was a little scared at first since this was a Russian-made metal horse, but the basics seem the same as a normal carriage.”

“A normal carriage, she says…”

Kamijou and Lesser were riding a Russian Catholic armored carriage, which probably helped ease their nerves somewhat. Still, he didn’t think they’d be able to get into a highly guarded fortress like this.

After Lesser had driven the thing for about thirty minutes, she suddenly stopped on an empty snowfield.

“We’re getting close to the fortress’s defensive perimeter. To be frank, if we go any farther, we’ll end up getting showered with missiles and grenades. The defensive Soul Arm installed in this carriage probably won’t be able to hold up against all of it.”

“I see a bunch of other ruts in the snow that are about the same size, though. Well, I guess I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. For now, it’s enough to know the base lets similar ‘carriages’ inside. It’s definitely not your normal military facility.”

“A normal military facility, he says…”

The fortress itself was only about ten square kilometers. It was nominally a front-line base adjacent to the national border shared with the Elizalina Alliance of Independent Nations, but it probably wasn’t operating as a regular installation. It was where Fiamma was secretly advancing his schemes.

Furthermore, there was a defensive perimeter extending about forty kilometers all around the fortress.

Naturally, it wasn’t ringed with high barriers like the Great Wall of China. The system consisted of a series of observation towers covering all directions that would radio in as soon as they spotted any suspicious figures, then direct tons of artillery onto that location.

“…Which is why they kicked out all the residents from an area even larger than Academy City itself.”

“Still, this region is mostly wilderness. Even with all the villagers together, I don’t think you’d have more people than a Japanese hamlet.”

The comment was enough to remind Kamijou once again how enormous in scale this country called Russia really was. Someone could look all over the Japanese archipelago and not find any stretch of untouched nature that was comparable in size.

“Anyway, what are we doing now?” Lesser asked from the driver’s seat. “If we set foot inside their defensive line like this, we’ll be fodder for missiles and grenade launchers in no time. The carriage isn’t maneuverable enough to evade them. Don’t we need to consider our options? Then again, I doubt they left any obvious blind spots open.”

“Not necessarily,” Kamijou answered, his tone somewhat tense. “Remember what I said before? Fiamma is using the Russian army for his own ends, but he wouldn’t have revealed the details of his magic-related plans. It’s like how he pretended there was some noble cause behind starting World War III—he must have built a secret route for bringing in magical equipment. There’s gotta be one.”

“And if we can find that, we can get inside the fortress without anyone knowing?”

“Most people on the Russian side don’t know about magic. At the very least, normal military guys probably can’t use it for battle. That means finding that route’ll be easier than marching in from the front, right?”

“…Maybe, but Fiamma of the Right is a force to be reckoned with, right? Isn’t the story that he’s the leader of God’s Right Seat? I get the feeling that even just his traps and followers will be pretty high-level, magically speaking.”

“And that’s where I come in, right?” Kamijou grinned and wiggled the fingers of his right hand.

A power called Imagine Breaker resided there—one that could cancel out any and all preternatural powers.

“Professional soldiers armed with rifles and bombs aren’t exactly the kind of people I should ever be fighting. Group combat against a large number of Russian Catholic sorcerers is a no-go as well. To be honest, I was right at the point of worrying that I wouldn’t be able to get into my groove…But this is where it starts. Finally, this is where I can really take the stage.”

Touma Kamijou looked straight out the armored carriage’s slit-like window.

And toward the shadow of the facility that stood near the distant horizon, he whispered:

“…I’m coming for you, Fiamma.”

11

In the depths of Moscow stood a middle-aged man in an extravagant military uniform, the kind that no actual soldier would ever wear into battle. He was inside a building that almost looked like a palace but was actually a fortress officially registered to the military. The man, his uniform adorned with numerous decorations, had always believed he’d been at the very bottom of Russia’s shadows. But it seemed that was no longer the case.

Other men in similar uniforms were gathered here as well.

Aside from their clothing and records, they all held similar positions to him.

“…The Russian Church’s patriarch…The world seems to have broadened significantly in an undesirable direction.”

“We instigated this war as they wished, but I wonder—can we repel Academy City’s troops?”

“A surprising number of people have sided with Academy City. The benefits of their science and technology must have been great, to have created a line this wide.”

“For all intents and purposes, this is escalating into a conflict between the Roman Orthodox–Russian Catholic dominion and the rest of the world. Not gaining India’s or China’s support hurt us.”

“I can’t see what Academy City is after. Putting this much military force on display, including their unmanned weapons, can’t possibly bring them any advantages.”

“Would you say they have goals other than simple interception and defense, then?”

“Maybe it’s our silos.”

“Even if everything else falls, we must not allow those silos to be taken. With Academy City’s technological power, they might be able to activate them without the proper codes. And it’s possible they’ll bring it in from outside.”

“Which would mean…”

“I’d like to propose that we consider activating It.”

Everyone present fell into a stony silence at those words.

They’d had this same discussion among themselves several times already. Those words had such weight, though, that even given the dire situation, they hesitated to give a concrete go-ahead signal.

Eventually, while glancing at the stack of documents on the table, one among them spoke up:

“The Kremlin Report…”