IX

IX

"Sorry about Barcelona, Father Nightroad. How have you been since then?" Wizard asked politely. "The curtains have at last opened on our little stage. More than anything, Father, I want you to enjoy the show."

"My comrade is on his way to the plaza," Abel said, his eyes shining like rubies. The terrorist was already within striking distance. The scythe could pulverize his skull at any time. "Silent Noise will be dismantled at once. I'll arrest you afterward, and it will be over."

"Impossible, Father. Do you think we didn't anticipated such obstacles?" His dulcet voice could have calmed a death-row inmate right before his execution.

Abel and Caterina blanched.

"We've placed a guardian in the plaza. Your friend should be torn into pieces by now. Operation Silent Noise will be carried out as planned, as long as I don't stop it."

"Then, I'll make you stop it!"

The scythe flashed forward as Abel attacked Kampfer. Unfortunately, the scythe's black blade was deflected a good arm's length away from its prey as a strong electromagnetic field shot up: It was the Shield of Asmoday.

Abel rotated the scythe in his hands. The blade on the opposite end of the staff scraped along the floor before rushing at Kampfer's black shadow. Abel knew it took an insane amount of energy to create such a powerful shield. Kampfer couldn't use it for too long. If Abel didn't cease his attack, he could crack the force field.

Kampfer slowly raised both hands. "Ar-O-Go-Go-Ru-Abrao! I summon you, terrible Lord of Flames, Angel of Hostility . . ." Wizard chanted.

The pentagrams on his hands gave off a cursed light. An unspeakably vile aura spread throughout the graveyard. It grew unbearably hot.

"Worthless one, evil one, despised one, wicked one, one who dwells in the insubstantial places of the soul, my heart knows the world through you."

Abel's jet-black scythe twirled once and stopped before Kampfer's eyes. "I don't know what you intend, but this is the end!"

"Lord of the Exalted Darkness that you yourself produced, give me your flames. Come, Arrow of Belial."

The scythe that Abel had swung down was bleached pure white.

From out of thin air, a fireball hurled at Abel, throwing his body across the room. The wind blasted him around as if he were a toy, slamming his back into a wall.

"Abel!" Caterina's eyes widened.

The priest crouched on the floor. A large quantity of fresh blood from Abel's head wound was beginning to pool on the floor.

"Ah, you better not move him too much, dear Cardinal. The Arrow of Belial—my electromagnetic acceleration gun—has power equal to a battleship's main cannon. It's a wonder that his body is intact after that direct hit."

Caterina didn't hear Kampfer's warning as she knelt next to Abel. She didn't notice that around both his arms, he'd wrapped a black mist, made out of the same sand that had previously imitated Alfonso.

"Abel! Abel, hang in there!"

"Run away, please, Caterina." The priest raised his bloodstained face. He had gone blind; he couldn't see his companion's face.

As far as Caterina knew, Abel was unstoppable once he transformed into Crusnik. To see him defeated so easily . . .

"Now then: I received two instructions from Archbishop d'Este—I mean, the new Pope." Wizard's tone held no pride or smugness as he spoke to the cowering pair. He was very businesslike. "The first one was to persuade you, Cardinal Sforza, to take part in the new Vatican."

The pentagrams on his hands lit up again. Simultaneously, his arms, which were clad in the swirling mist, aimed at Caterina's beautiful face.

"And the second instruction was to take your life if you refused. Your continued existence is likely to be undesirable to the new Vatican."

The next instant, the iron sand was electromagnetically accelerated and projected by a discharge of current against its own magnetic field.

As the tumbling current of light beamed out, Caterina involuntarily shut her eyes. Behind her eyelids, the world looked like it had been dyed blue. The sound of an intense blast struck her ears. Her eardrums ached from the change in air pressure. The scent of burnt hair clogged her nostrils. However, she didn't die.

"Abel?" Caterina raised her head to peer at the warm liquid that was trickling down on her head.

Abel stood like a statue, dripping blood on her face. He held her tightly to him. Abel's back was gouged wide open. His burnt skin split, and his white spine peeked out from his seared flesh. A vampire would have died immediately from such a wound, never mind a mere human.

"Oh ho. You're admirable, aren't you, Father?" Wizard glared at the priest who should've been dead. His voice sounded gloomy as he said, "It really is admirable, going to such lengths to protect your mistress. Can't I get you to stop uselessly struggling? It's a waste of time."

"No." A shredded voice rose up from the blood-smeared lump of flesh that continued to shield Caterina. "No ... I ... protect ... humans."

"Abel! Enough! Enough, already!" Caterina shouted, hitting the priest's chest with her clenched fist. "Never mind me! You should save yourself."

Kampfer seconded the cardinal's words. "It is as Her Eminence says, Father. You shouldn't do useless things. In the end, no matter what you try, the result won't be any different. Wasn't that proven in Barcelona?"

The instant he heard the name of that city, Abel's drooping head jerked up. His fingers tightened.

Whether he didn't see Abel's renewed vigor or he pretended not to notice, Kampfer's voice remained polite. "Yes, everything is the same as it was in Barcelona. Almost the entire city will be destroyed. Your superior, your comrades, and the people in this city will die. No matter what you do, it's useless. Because . . ." Wizard shut his mouth for a moment. In his shuttered expression, there was no lament for those who would die, nor was there any hint of contempt for those responsible for the destruction. After a pause that seemed to last for eternity, his lips stretched into an arched smile, and he said, "Because you fail to protect the ones you love."

Choking on his own blood, Abel's voice was hoarse as he shouted, "Nanomachine Crusnik 02 forty percent limited performance—authorized!"

---