CHAPTER 10

Final Spell Preparations Completed
Rebirth_the…

1

Sasha Kreutzev ran through the Star of Bethlehem.

The Star of Bethlehem: a temple so large you couldn’t find anything else like it in Crossist history. Inside, however, it was filled with a terrifying silence. Not a single warrior-monk could be seen: a fact that seemed to implicitly put on display the inner workings of the person known as Fiamma of the Right, this fortress’s architect. On a fundamental level, the man didn’t place his trust in things like friends or comrades. That was why the fortress had taken this form.

This was where Sasha had been cut off from the young student from Academy City by Fiamma’s attack.

Ideally, she was supposed to back him up right at that very moment, but she’d learned in the Elizalina Alliance of Independent Nations that she had no chance of winning in a straight fight. That man named Fiamma was an absolute monster. He’d nearly surpassed the laws of sorcery.

However.

It was a different story if she wasn’t up against Fiamma of the Right personally.

…Personal opinion. This temple and the altered night sky are deeply linked to Project Bethlehem’s foundation. And chances are high that Fiamma and the Star of Bethlehem are magically connected so he can control it.

Still carefully observing her surroundings without fail, Sasha darted through the temple’s hallways.

…As an addendum, even if I can’t challenge Fiamma in a normal fight, it’s possible an indirect attack on the Star of Bethlehem will affect him.

In any case, she needed to hurry.

She didn’t know the details of that boy’s identity, but he didn’t seem like he knew any sorcery. The Russian Catholic Church’s intrinsic principle was the inspection and removal of the occult, which meant he was someone they needed to protect. The very fact that she was using an amateur as a way to buy time against a monster of that caliber was enough to make her want to punish herself.

…But what am I supposed to target?! The Star of Bethlehem temple is huge—over forty kilometers in radius. Simply searching for an appropriate spot will take considerable time!!

In her haste, Sasha suddenly heard a strange voice from behind the pillars across from her.

“Bum-ba-ba-buummmm!!”

“?!”

Her body stiffened up like a startled cat, and she automatically pulled the L-shaped crowbar off her waist belt. But when she whipped it out for a quickdraw strike, the metal tip didn’t pierce the body of the speaker.

What it met instead was the Steel Gloves.

The Soul Arm that looked like a Frankenstein-esque mechanical arm and the crowbar customized for torture clashed, sending brilliant sparks bursting into the air.

The voice belonged to a girl whose outfit resembled a lacrosse uniform with a jacket thrown over it. Most striking was the swaying, manmade, taillike thing coming out of the back of her miniskirt.

“Man, everything was fine right up until I had to use the Steel Gloves to latch on to an outer wall when the Star of Bethlehem started rising up. I tried to construct a line to contact Bayloupe and the others on the ground, but this fortress’s defenses were tighter than I thought, and I couldn’t open up a hole. Right now, I’m in the middle of memorizing every bit of this fortress’s technology that I can—for the sake of Britain’s future. I got separated from that crucial boy, and I’ve been taking little detours to look for anyone who got lost.”

Without caring that she’d been hit by the crowbar, the black-haired girl continued. “You’re a Russian Catholic, right? You seemed distressed, so I came to give you a rundown of my pricing plans. I suggest the stopover course. And if you act now, I’ll throw in a discount.”

“…?”

As Sasha tilted her little head, the black-haired girl dexterously moved her “tail” to indicate a direction with its tip. It pointed toward the temple’s lower section. She saw several square container-like things hanging there.

“That looks a lot like emergency escape equipment. Kinda like a cross between a bus and a parachute. Well, it looks like Fiamma’s plan will work even left alone, and he would probably toss the Russian sorcerers out of the Star of Bethlehem as soon as they presented any obstructions, so I took it upon myself to show them the way before that happened. Heh-heh.”

“…Question one. What do you mean by pricing plans?”

“Don’t get me wrong! I’m not going to take any of your money. My reason for living is to do things that will be to the United Kingdom’s benefit. Instead of demanding compensation, I’d like you to promise that you’ll help if Britain is ever in trouble in the future.”

The black-haired girl spoke with a sly grin.

It made her seem like a devil when paired with the tail reaching out of her miniskirt, but the minor details weren’t exactly consistent, making her seem a bit cute. A little devil, so to speak. After all, why was she willing to do people favors based on nothing but a verbal promise?

Nevertheless, Sasha didn’t care about what was happening in Britain, so she didn’t particularly mention it. “Answer one. Swiftly have anyone escape who wishes to leave the battle front. As an addendum, I don’t plan to leave this place yet. I must at least take a parting shot at Fiamma of the Right.”

“Eh-heh-heh, roger that. I will come to collect this debt, both publicly and privately, so please do not forget.”

With a ga-gump, several containers suspended directly below the temple shot off into the night sky. The surface was embroiled in its own conflict, but it wasn’t her responsibility to worry about them after that point. They, too, were professional sorcerers, the pride of the Russian Church.

The black-haired girl, waving her tail a little, continued. “Now, what did you mean by taking a parting shot at Fiamma?”

“Answer two. I feel no particular need to answer you.”

“You seem irritated. Want some gum?”

Sasha’s face, hidden behind her bangs, clouded slightly. “…Answer three. I am unable to understand those who put synthetic substances like that into their mouths.”

“I thought Crossist followers have loved sweets ever since the days of manna in the New Testament.”

Sasha ignored the girl following her and ran farther through the Star. She hadn’t fully grasped this temple’s structure, but she had a fairly good guess as to where to find the device she was after.

Something connecting Fiamma of the Right with the temple…

If she assumed that the Star of Bethlehem had a similar layout to a “temple” using Crossist-based modern Western sorcery, then no matter how gargantuan it was, the number, color, position, and other properties of the individual parts composing it should be roughly the same.

Essentially, despite having gathered up the highest-class materials from all over the world and expanding it to maximum scale, Fiamma would still have used the same basic recipe itself. That meant she didn’t need to worry about the visual splendor and enormous size. The sorceress Sasha Kreutzev could fight against it just fine using the knowledge she already had.

And then it happened.

Sasha suddenly stopped. But this wasn’t the vital temple point in her knowledge; what she was looking at now was a window. Beyond it spread the dark night sky, and she could see another building far in the distance.

Its walls and ceiling had mostly collapsed, and even from here, she could see inside it.

Fiamma of the Right was swinging a sword, long enough that it disappeared beyond the night sky.

And.

She witnessed the moment the right arm of the boy confronting him was severed cleanly from his shoulder.

2

Vasilisa, female leader of the Russian Catholic special forces team Annihilatus, had arrived in Moscow. Several crimson stains marred her already red habit. A liquid of the same color dripped from the edges of her pursed lips, too.

However.

None of it was her blood.

With gory hands, crimson even under her fingernails, Vasilisa threw open the front doors of a giant palace. Several killers immediately attacked her, but she didn’t pay them any mind: she didn’t care about her enemies’ combat power nor the fact that they were originally her allies.

She mowed them down…

“Man-eating woman in a one-legged house—”

…in a singsong voice, like a young girl.

In conjunction with Vasilisa’s crooning, an old lady wrapped in torn-up shadows went on a rampage through the palace. A huge clump of flames exploded, professional sorcerers were dragged across the floor, and there was a series of screams and angry cries.

When her feet came to a stop deep inside the palace, a large man’s voice flew at her from up ahead.

“So you’ve come.”

They were bitter, hateful words.

It was a middle-aged bishop, garbed in gold-decorated clothing. “The witch whom the man-eating monster fell in love with. Is that unaging body what you gained at the pinnacle of your destruction of the occult?”

“I’d rather you call me a fairy-tale heroine, Bishop Nikolai. I am still a national idol, you know.”

“Cease your prattling. You are the remains of a girl who burned her mother and sister alive to obtain happiness.”

Vasilisa ignored his words.

She cast her glance forward, and in tandem, the monstrous shadow moved. It shot off in a straight line, plunging straight for Nikolai.

While watching the attacking witch, Nikolai opened his mouth. “The man-eating witch is strong—strong enough to be famous. There are several folktales about her in Russia, but most depict only two options: being eaten alive or being allowed to escape. Almost none of them involves the human killing her.”

Bwom!! The man-eating witch exploded.

“However, even the man-eating witch has an exceptional way of being killed.”

At the same time, something began to swirl around Nikolai. It was clear water. This was nothing as mundane as regular water, though—when it appeared, the carpet adorning the floor burned to a crisp.

“In one of the stories she appears in, she kept watch over two springs: one filled with the water of life, which could grant eternal life, and one with the water of death, which would end someone’s life without question. There were knights who asked the witch to guide them to the water of life, and in the very end, they push the witch into the water of death and take the water of life for themselves.”

Engulfed by the clear fluid, the man-eating witch dissipated. Then, Nikolai snapped his fingers. Immediately, a strange water poured toward Vasilisa like a tsunami, threatening to cover her entirely from overhead.

“This is the incredibly rare victory against her won by the hands of humankind.”

A horrible scene unfolded.

The left half of Vasilisa’s body completely disintegrated. Her arm vanished down to the bone. Nothing that could identify her feminine body remained from her chest down to her waist, and the psychedelically colored “contents” seemed almost ready to pour out. And in the meantime, her disintegration continued. Within less than a minute, not even a hair would be left.

“This great war was a national policy signed and executed by the Patriarch himself, the central figure of both this nation called Russia and the Russian Church that controls it,” Nikolai said to her, as if spitting the words out. “I don’t know what you were thinking, but you should have used your head a little. Then maybe you’d have realized what trying to stop it would mean.”

However.

The bishop frowned.

This wasn’t right.

Vasilisa’s face held no trace of anguish or terror even after half her body had melted. She still wore that impenetrable smile.

And then.

Vasilisa’s lips, despite her having lost even her lungs, clearly moved.

“Oh dear. It’s quite commonly accepted that coerced signatures are null and void, you know.”

Shudder.

The moment Nikolai took a step back, Vasilisa’s wounds swelled. Bk-bk-bk-bk!! A strange sound rang out, and enough blood and flesh to replace the missing portions of her body began to come together again.

“War-related documents don’t go through the Russian Church’s command heirarchy, but the military’s. And the Patriarch isn’t accustomed to relaying orders through a network…He wasn’t able to, for example, consider the possibility that after he electronically signed a dummy document with a tablet, that signature data could be placed on something more dangerous.

“Though I don’t dislike purehearted, innocent children,” added Vasilisa offhandedly.

Despite having been produced in an abnormal way, her newly formed appendages seemed even more youthful and vibrant than before—and brimmed with life. It was the soft skin of a woman in her early teens, looking like it would repel water without doing anything in particular.

Just like a fairy-tale heroine.

“And the only one who could have tricked him was the one appointed as the go-between for the Russian Church and the military—you, Bishop Nikolai Tolstoj. Meaning you were the most suspicious. But what were you after? The Patriarch’s throne? If so, were you considering assassinating him amid the confusion?”

“What is happening here?”

Nikolai’s eyes tracked over her skin in disbelief, noticing spots that were unnaturally fair and glowing.

“My Water of Death’s magic was perfect!! I went through all that to create this Soul Arm from materials I had people search far and wide for, all to deal with your witch!! If you’re really Vasilisa, the one under the witch’s protection, it should have been impossible to avoid!!”

“My, my. Nikolai, did you forget what you yourself just said?”

Vasilisa, who possessed two different qualities of skin now, as though she had only halfway molted, shook her head with a smile.

“The man-eating witch kept watch over the water of death and the water of life.”

“No—!”

“Well, yes. The point of the story is the item that grants eternal life—the method of killing the witch was nothing more than a little trick to give the story a happy ending. My flesh is unaging and immortal, and that’s no exaggeration—but it’s not even worth arguing about which is more important or which is stronger, is it?”

If that was true, then Nikolai had never be able to kill Vasilisa with the cards he had since the very first move. He was fully equipped aside from the Water of Death magic, but even if he used everything at his disposal, he’d be torn apart and her advance would continue.

And Vasilisa was too skilled a sorceress to allow Nikolai to escape.

“Man-eating woman in a one-legged house…”

As the fairy-tale heroine inched forward with a smile, her beautiful singing voice rang out through the palace.

“Please grant your strength to this loyal, powerless daughter. The overwhelming power of a witch, so that I may crush this disloyal, ugly adult into dust and give this tale a happy ending.”

3

Round and round.

Touma Kamijou’s right arm whirled through the air, blood streaming in its wake. The thin red trail stopped in a ring, creating a bizarre work of art.

Fiamma of the Right casually held out a hand.

Then, as if sucked in, Kamijou’s right arm fell into its grasp.

The Imagine Breaker.

The singular right hand, able to erase any and all strange forces, which neither science nor sorcery could explain.

“I have it…”

Fiamma’s lips twisted in pleasure.

Pop.

With the sound of a water balloon breaking, the severed right hand exploded into pieces, cleanly dismantling and flaying the blood, flesh, bone, vessels, and nerves inside.

“The Star of Bethlehem has prepared the planetary environment. And I’ve severed the right hand as well, which must serve as the medium. I can’t bring out one hundred percent of the power resting within me without channeling through your right hand, after all. The Imagine Breaker, dispeller of illusions, must have been a sort of purifying function that the sacred right hand naturally possessed, but for me, it’s no more than a rat in a pantry, eating away at my reserves. Still, even that unnecessary role is ended now that it has accepted my power as an intrinsic piece…And thus, my right hand is complete.

“Now, if I wield that strength, which should always have been rightfully mine in the first place, to full power, the perfect salvation will be complete. Power enough to save the entire world would have been in my arm to begin with. People may call that kamijou or being above God or what have you…but that doesn’t matter to me. I’ve no intent to join His ranks, nor exceed Him. As long as I can gather the power here now and save the world, I will succeed.”

Everything was slowly being absorbed by Fiamma of the Right’s third arm, which extended from his right shoulder.

There was agony.

Though he never normally lost his cool, his eyebrow very, very slightly twitched in displeasure.

The internalized flesh and blood were perfect, but the Imagine Breaker’s power was beginning to whittle away at the source of what made Fiamma of the Right so special.

However, the fact that he didn’t immediately lose his strength was noteworthy.

In other words, the power sleeping inside Fiamma was constantly creating such immense power that the Imagine Breaker’s effects alone couldn’t annihilate it.

…This wasn’t something I could do anything about using cheap tricks, but luck and ability seem to have sided with me. Of course, without at least this much output, I couldn’t call it power worthy of being wielded by the Son of God.

Whmm. Fiamma of the Right’s body wavered.

Not only his heart. His entire body contracted, a pressure building around the third arm. It was probably a reaction to the power within his core drastically moving the third arm, which had acquired true flesh and blood.

As evidence, a huge change occurred, as if to prove the advent of a power that could alter the world.

Not to Fiamma’s body.

To the very planet that received him.

The skies opened wide.

Red, blue, yellow, green. Clearly not of this world, the dark of the night sky placed there by man tore open. Giant fissures appeared from many directions, like old stockings ripping, spreading without a sound.

From beyond it appeared a golden light.

It was the definition of myth. A scene out of religious paintings. The sight of the curtain of raining rays seemed to link heaven and earth. If anyone who didn’t fully know the circumstances had seen this, they would have instantly thought angels were about to descend from the clouds. In truth, God and angels didn’t exist on a physical level, but in an invisible phase, like infrared or ultraviolet rays…but its true quality was, perhaps, similar. After all, that golden light was really a massive amount of telesma.

Fiamma hadn’t summoned an angel or anything like that. Perhaps it was more accurate to say he was calling forth the world in which angels resided.

Fiamma of the Right hadn’t knocked on the proverbial doors of that world many times in bitterness, waiting for the heavy doors to open. No; the very place in which he stood was simply going through a transformation into something that would be more suitable for him.

Just as a certain Crossist saint had changed a brothel into a shining preaching pulpit when she was forcibly brought there so she could be harassed.

Just as another holy woman, upon being thrown into a cold, filthy jail, had filled the entire space with shining angelic power, like an immaculate springtime, which had gently healed her wounds.

The heavens are dyed.

The surroundings of the righteous were always dyed in righteousness.

Upon confirming that fact, Fiamma of the Right’s lips twisted in pleasure.

Now I need only rearrange the bottom of the earth before the readjustment of all the cogs and the establishment of mechanisms to keep everything in order will be complete, and this world will begin to turn correctly once again, simply as though this is how it has always been.

Which meant he had no more use for the boy who had lost his arm.

He was nothing more than a hunk of flesh serving as an adapter for that right arm to remain in this world, so it would be best to have it make a quick withdrawal.

It will be I, and nobody else, who will save this world. And you are no longer necessary for that.

Fiamma held his third arm, whose physical form was now much clearer than before, out at the boy, who was still spilling large amounts of blood from his horrific wound.

“Consider this an honor, you lump of flesh. I have safely reaped your life’s worth.”

And that would end things.

This was not the half-finished third arm that had been fluctuating awkwardly.

Nor was this destruction brought on by the amount of knowledge in the 103,000 grimoires.

This—this was the power that would save the world.

The power central to one legend.

That which was called kamijou. To stand above God.

This explosion of light, massive enough to reduce a planet to dust if necessary, would change the superfluous adapter into so many little pieces without question.

That was the only thing that would make sense.

“…?”

But at that moment—

What Fiamma of the Right felt first was not anger or fear, but doubt.

The boy’s body should have been reduced to ashes, but it didn’t have a scratch on it.

Far from it.

The immense vortex of light Fiamma had fired had split in twain, scattering to each of the boy’s sides. This was despite the beam bearing such gargantuan energy that it could blow away an entire planet and re-create all legends in Crossism.

It was as if…

It was as if an invisible right hand extending from the boy’s severed shoulder had repelled it—!!

“What…in the…?” muttered Fiamma, reeling.

The words he murmured weren’t enough to keep himself in check—instead, they expanded like a snowball rolling down a hilly road.

“I have absorbed your right hand. So why—why do you still possess that power?!”

There was no answer.

The boy, cheeks damp with his own blood, simply kept looking down.

Toward that right arm. Past the wound, at that which should not have existed.

Zk-zk-zk-zk-zk-zk-zk-zk-zk-zk-zzhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-zk-zk-zhhhh!! An invisible force began to gather.

“…” Fiamma moved only his eyes and looked at what was sprouting from his own right shoulder.

He had certainly taken that boy’s right hand. He’d changed it into his own flesh and blood, and within that should have remained the Imagine Breaker, the singular power that could erase all other powers.

Then…what, exactly, was the power gathering within the enemy standing before him now?

There’s something…

With a crackle, Fiamma felt his lips suddenly drying. He’d finally obtained the Imagine Breaker’s right arm. He’d gone through so many grandiose preparations, and after finishing them all, he’d seized that strange right hand—the final key. With Fiamma of the Right’s power and the boy’s right arm—which he’d dismantled and reformed as a Soul Arm—he could save the entire world at once. That was how valuable his last acquisition was…

But he’d been eclipsed.

He could barely make it out.

He felt such a threat from the huge tempest of energy concentrating at the boy’s sheared-off shoulder that it was causing the color to fade from all Fiamma had gained.

Something transparent…

Fiamma of the Right looked at his opponent’s face again.

He couldn’t catch a glimpse of it, as the boy was looking down, expression hidden.

Fiamma doubted Imagine Breaker was all that resided in that body of his. But he never thought his mind would be so rattled, so set on edge, just from that ability to cancel out any strange power. Even now, he felt a tingling on his skin so keenly that it almost stung. The impact bellowing deep in his gut, like watching fireworks go off from up close, was almost like a clear wall.

Something is there!!

“………”

The boy—Touma Kamijou—slowly looked up.

It wasn’t an exaggerated motion. It wasn’t sharp or fast. It wasn’t unique, nor was it regular.

He simply looked up.

With just that.

Fiamma of the Right sensed all the muscles from his shoulders to his neck tensing.

It was coming.

He didn’t know what, but something was coming—something he needed to be cautious of.

And then.

Booommmmm!!!!!!

Touma Kamijou, with his own strength, gripped that invisible something and crushed it.

Another power appeared above the immense force steadily collecting at the stock-still Kamijou’s shoulder, opening up like a giant mouth and engulfing the vast store of power all at once. Almost as though chewing it, the air near his shoulder’s gash shimmered like sugar dissolving in water.

That much power.

In an instant.

Into pieces.

“…You…”

A murmur.

Kamijou’s lips moved.

“I don’t know who the hell you are.”

His words were certainly not loud.

Nevertheless, they stung deep inside Fiamma’s ears. His mind was blaring warning signals he couldn’t suppress; if he missed a single movement of a fingertip, or the blink of an eyelid, it could utterly change the situation.

“And I don’t know what the hell you’re trying to do.”

Fiamma of the Right held the greatest power even in God’s Right Seat—and Kamijou wasn’t looking at him.

He didn’t even know what Kamijou was speaking to.

“But…”

Maybe only Touma Kamijou knew.

In any case, Kamijou said:

“…you be quiet now. I’ll finish things with this guy.”

Slp-slp-slp-slp-slp!! A wet sound rang out. By the time he’d heard it, a right arm was already extending from Touma Kamijou’s shoulder. Having devoured that enormous power, a piece of fleshy body had been newly produced.

He…abandoned it…? Fiamma tried to mutter, but he realized late that no words were coming out.

The back of his throat dried, leaving only a sticking sensation.

He purposely sacrificed all that power to take back the Imagine Breaker…?

He glanced at the right arm he’d taken from the boy.

Even now, Fiamma had the Imagine Breaker’s right hand dismantled and integrated into his own body. But he sensed the light of that power slowly fading from the flesh and blood he’d obtained. The sight made him feel like a concept, a rule, something was stating that two powers of this level couldn’t exist in the world at the same time. It was as though that “rule” were saying the right arm could only retain its true power when attached to the boy named Touma Kamijou.

Fiamma couldn’t afford to lose it.

He wasn’t attached to the Imagine Breaker itself. In fact, he’d planned to expel that absorbed function out of his arm at some point. In the process of drawing power into his body, that ability would only be a hindrance. However, if he assumed the “right arm” itself was rapidly weakening, then maybe even its function as a container to hold Fiamma’s power would be collapsing. That wouldn’t do. Not for his goals.

And then Kamijou said this.

“…I think I’m finally starting to understand.”

“Understand what?”

“I’d thought this was a ridiculous plan. This Star of Bethlehem, World War III, the alliance between the Roman and Russian Churches—all of it.”

Kamijou paused his breathing for a moment.

The words that came out next were thrust at Fiamma in the form of questions.

“Why did the Star of Bethlehem have to be this gigantic? This is a ritual site so you can safely and accurately do your stupid magic, right? But if Fiamma of the Right was really the strongest being, he wouldn’t have had to scrape together all the pieces of churches and temples and whatever throughout the world, would he?”

One by one, Kamijou spoke as though checking items off a list.

“Why did you cause World War III? You said this was to gather the materials you needed from throughout the world and at the same time bring the ‘enemy you need to defeat’ out into the open. But you can interpret that another way. Fiamma of the Right’s power automatically adjusts the strength of his arm based on the strength of the enemy before him. In other words, the stronger the enemy who appears, the more of your power can be drawn out…But why did you want to go that far to force more power out?”

And each and every one of them pruned back Fiamma’s layers with precision, steadily revealing what lay within.

“And why did the Roman Orthodox Church and Russian Catholic Church join forces anyway? Why did you want so much power that you’d open the door to other religious organizations, rather than just the Roman Church with its two billion followers? If Fiamma of the Right really was invincible, if he really was someone who could destroy every last enemy, would he have needed to get underlings? What I mean is…”

Kamijou spoke.

To continue his words that would be fatal to Fiamma of the Right.

“…you were scared, weren’t you?”

Kamijou set his eyes straight on Fiamma as he declared it.

“Because you don’t actually know whether you have enough power inside you to save the world.”

Boom!! An explosion of light flew.

Sharp nails had extended from Fiamma’s Third Arm, launching an enormous attack at Kamijou.

But his adversary was not reduced to rubble.

Instead, Touma Kamijou held the tempest of light in check with his right palm stretched before him, then twisted his wrist to force it diagonally behind him.

He was unharmed.

As if to say this was the suitable result for the power that would kill all illusions.

Because of that, his words wouldn’t stop.

When he thought about it, this was only natural.

It was extremely, utterly natural that Fiamma of the Right couldn’t obtain that sort of conviction.

After all—

“The world hasn’t ended or anything,” Kamijou continued. “I don’t know what it was like a long time ago in the age of legend, but in this era, at least, I’ve never heard of any world-ending events like the ones in myths.”

Words to carve a path to the impenetrable fortress that was Fiamma—words to find a way in.

“And if the world didn’t have a crisis that could end it, you’d never be blessed with a chance to show you had enough power to save it. Just like how my Imagine Breaker looks like it has no power unless I’m surrounded by espers and sorcerers.”

In other words, the reason Fiamma of the Right had prepared every measure, the reason he had executed such a grandiose plan, was a very, very simple one.

“If you’ve never saved the world at least once before, how would anyone ever know if you actually had the strength to do it?”

“…”

Fiamma of the Right was silent for a moment.

Eventually, his shoulders trembled.

The man who controlled Red, Right, Flame, and Michael gave a low chuckle.

“…So what?”

The words fell out of him.

Something like a strange, deep-seated grudge leaked from the mouth of the man who had incited worldwide strife and controlled it all completely.

“It’s not only me. Nobody living on this planet has ever experienced destruction on a legendary scale due to the simple fact that they’re still alive. And do you have the right to criticize me for that? Are you saying you’ve felt power enough to save the world?”

“Of course I have.”

But the answer Fiamma received in turn toppled his expectations.

Touma Kamijou even made this assertion without a second’s pause, too.

“We humans living on Earth aren’t anything special. If you looked down at the planet from a satellite or something, we’d probably all look like insignificant ants. But I’ve saved them. Call it insignificant or whatever, but I’ve seen the moment people have saved the world for a single person.”

Yes.

Kamijou had been wrapped up in incident after incident in the past. He didn’t want to see those he knew spattered with blood in front of him, so he’d always desperately gripped his fist. He was carried off to hospitals all the time, and now even his right arm had been cut off—and his memories? They’d broken off at one point, and beyond that instant, he couldn’t remember anything.

So maybe what he’d been able to obtain really was trivial. He did sometimes feel like the result wasn’t worth the effort. Simply put, if he’d been stronger, he’d have been smarter about how he went about resolving things. If he’d been wiser, maybe he could have gained much more.

But.

It was for that very reason that he truly felt as though he’d gained something important.

He knew that the things he’d so desperately grasped in his clumsy hands were definitely not worthless.

If Fiamma had been less concerned with the greater machinations of the “world” and simply helped those in front of him, he never would have had to fear how much power was needed to save the world. Even without a grand master plan, or a huge temple, or special traits, or a strange right arm, he wouldn’t have questioned it.

But Fiamma hadn’t done that.

And that was why he couldn’t see it.

Ever.

“Nobody who says they’re gonna save the world can protect it.”

It was so obvious.

If Kamijou had been acting under the same impression, he’d have lost everything, too.

Under the golden firmament…

To a lonely man who had never gained anything and had never even reached out, Touma Kamijou quietly said:

“Our world isn’t so weak it needs someone like that to save it.”