A Certain Magical Index, Vol. 22

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A Certain Magical Index, Vol. 22 Page 6

by Kazuma Kamachi


  “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 c
hange 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.

 

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