A Certain Magical Index, Vol. 7 (21 page)

But those things couldn’t create such an eerie environment on their own.

Inside the cathedral, without any man-made lights, lit up only by the faint moonlight shining through the black holes without any glass, hundreds of sisters all wearing black, as if drenched in darkness, stood silently. They formed a ring surrounding something—and that ring was many layers thick. In their hands were obvious weapons like swords and spears, as well as religious ritual instruments such as giant cogwheels and claws. They all sparkled when the faint moonlight struck them. There were no other people there. The captured Amakusa members were on the same site, but in a different location, bound and under guard by about ten people.

The sisters’ attention was not directed outside the building.

Their eyes were focused on the circular space inside their ring.

They heard a punch.

They heard a stifled scream.

“Come on, don’t make things difficult, yes? Unfortunately, everyone here is quite busy, myself included. We don’t have time to go along with your little games. Just accept the death penalty already, will ya—hey, are you listening to me? I asked if you’re fucking listening to me! Answer me!!”

The
thud
of heavy fabric being kicked.

And with it, an otherworldly scream cut through the dark.

“Hah!! That’s a nice scream you got there. Don’t you think it’s disgraceful? Like you’ve abandoned your womanhood? Ah, shit, looks like we’ll have to rename this church, won’t we? Naming it after a pig or an ass would be simply laughable!”

Orsola Aquinas didn’t answer.

She was on the floor, beaten to a pulp. Her clothing was torn, as though she’d been dragged around while tied to a horse. Its fasteners were broken as well, and large pieces of fabric had been ripped off.

Agnes and the others weren’t using any special magic to make Orsola suffer. They were simply kicking her in the limbs and the gut—and, given enough blows, it would create intense pain. Violence performed by more than two hundred people, even going easy
on her, had still driven Orsola to the brink of death. After all, even if each person struck her once, that was two hundred strikes. It was the same as water dripping from the roof creating a hole. Orsola’s limbs, sprawled out on the floor, showed no sign of any movement.

Orsola’s leg, sprawled out on the floor and unmoving—Agnes stepped on it casually. Her thick soles applied pressure like a vise. She yelped.

“I mean, it’s not like I don’t understand why you’d run away. I know your fate—and you might be happier dying here. Inquisitions, attended by all the cardinals…Do you know what they’re like? Ah-ha-ha! They might try to be way serious, but they’re monsters. With that, it still can’t match where it came from—England. If you want my opinion, ours are like playing pretend compared to theirs, you know. Hah, ha-ha! That old man still can’t stop playing house—what a wonderful fate you have, to be pulled along by them and die! Isn’t it?!”

“—?!”

Because of the intense, grinding pain in her leg, Orsola couldn’t manage a proper answer. She also felt like if she opened her mouth carelessly, she would bite her own tongue.

Why did things come to this?
thought Orsola hazily.

The
Book of the Law
’s original copy was a hindrance and an evil to all. Everyone wanted to burn it. It led all who acquired it to a ruinous end—it was literally
li libro di un modo pericoloso
. But human hands could not dispose of the original. They could only take temporary measures, locking it tight with a seal.

Orsola Aquinas wanted to do something about that.

Both she and the Roman Orthodox Church must have had the same feelings regarding wanting to erase the infamous
Book of the Law
.

So then why?

What changed to part their paths so definitively?

Right up until the very end, she thought she could see salvation.

Why did that boy hand me over to Agnes?

“Still, it looks like you’ve got a lot less friends to rely on now, eh? To think you’d come here looking for help from Amakusa, of all people!”

Agnes Sanctis looked down at Orsola.

Her expression looked like it was enchanted by a suspicious grimoire as
thud
,
thud
, she kicked Orsola’s calves. The storm of pain resounded in her bones and threatened to tear her mind apart.

“Driven to the brink of death, you finally clung to a bunch of Asians you didn’t know in some filthy island nation. Ah-ha-ha-ha! You mustn’t do that, you know. You can’t hope for anything from piglets who don’t even read scripture. Under our rules, marrying someone outside of a baptized Roman Orthodox is equivalent to sodomy—you know that. Did you think it would be fine just as long as they were still Crossists? Amakusa, the puritans of England—it’s ridiculous they’d even call themselves Crossists. They are not human. They are pigs and asses. Look where trusting your precious life to people like them got you. Jeez, tricking beasts like them really is too easy. Just tame them a little, and they’ll bring rats back to you in their mouths!”

“…Tr…tricked?”

Orsola’s awareness, hazy with pain until then, slowly turned back outward.

“Those people…Did you…Did you trick…them…?”

The sticky blood falling from her torn lips hindered her speech.

But that didn’t stop her from asking.

“They weren’t…co…cooperating…with you…You tricked…them…?”

“What does it matter? Whichever it was, we got our hands on you, didn’t we? Heh-heh, a-ha-ha!! Man, it was great! Comedy gold! They were all like, ‘We’ll rescue Orsola Aquinas from the evil Amakusa for sure!!’ How moronic, right?! They delivered someone they should’ve been protecting straight into the hands of their enemy! They’re hopeless, that’s what they are!!”

“…”

Is that so?
thought Orsola, her face losing a little bit of its tension.

They hadn’t intended to sell her out to the Roman Orthodox Church—that wasn’t it at all. Their smiles, their words—none of them had been a lie. They earnestly worried about her and came all the way to such a dangerous battlefield just to rescue her.

Even though it had ended in failure…

Even though their efforts were for naught, and her life was threatened instead…

They stayed her allies until the very end. They never once betrayed her, forsook her. They had fought for her until the last moment—those kind, reliable allies.

“The hell are you smiling for?”

“I…see. I…am smiling…am I?” said Orsola in a slow, gentle voice. “I seem…to have realized it. Realized the true colors…of our Roman Orthodox Church…”

“Eh?”

“Those people…They act on faith…They believe in others, believe in their feelings, and would follow them anywhere…for others. And yet we…How ugly we are. We…can only act…on doubt. You fooled those helping you, to execute me…You’ll fool the people with a fixed trial…and even fool yourself into thinking it’s what God wishes you to do…”

“—”

“Although…I’m not in a position to argue with it…either. If I had but trusted Amakusa…from the start…things wouldn’t have gotten this bad. If I had fled with them by their plan…then those in Amakusa wouldn’t have faced danger, either…In the end, this unsightly form of ours…Is this what the Roman Orthodox Church…really is?”

Orsola smiled.

With her beaten-up face, and without a hint of humor.

“…I can no longer…escape from your clutches. And just as you planned…I will be judged a false sinner…and be buried in the dark. But I am fine with that now…—For I cannot lie to myself…! And what’s more…I absolutely, absolutely cannot…trick those who lent me their strength without expecting anything in return, can I? Never again…do I want to be called the same kind of person as you…”

“The words of a martyr. You expect to be canonized or something?”

Whap
—with the lightness of kicking an empty can, Agnes’s sole came down on Orsola’s leg.

“If you want to die that badly, then be my guest. It’ll be easier for
us if you don’t resist, after all. Curse those fools for causing this to happen to you as much as you please, and then die!”

Although Agnes would have known there was no way for her to resist. More than two hundred sisters surrounded her, waiting. And there was a strong barrier put up around the church, so she definitely couldn’t make a run for it.

Her consciousness wavering, even Agnes’s words, spoken right next to her ears, only came in bits and pieces. But Orsola still managed to think with her near-disabled mind.

“What…on earth…should I curse?”

“Wh…what?”

“They never…had a reason to fight. I asked him, and he said he wasn’t a Roman Orthodox…or an English Puritan…He was just a boy. And yet, without any power or reason, he came running to me, a complete stranger…See? Where else in the world…could you find a more attractive gift than that…? Those people…they gave me such a beautiful gift…so what are you saying I should curse about them?”

Yes—she wouldn’t curse them.

She would never curse them.

Even if they hadn’t rescued Orsola safely, what they did couldn’t be condemned. Because they had no duty telling them they needed to rescue her. They weren’t fighting just because someone told them to. They flung themselves into battle, not bothering to use their “rights” to save her.

Just fighting for her, just standing up for her, was worthy of much gratitude.

So Orsola would never curse them.

She felt proud to have been blessed with the chance to meet people who would do so much for a total stranger. She wanted to thank God for making her lucky enough to be with them at the end.

She was satisfied.

That was enough.

Orsola Aquinas thought she would never again embrace such happiness with her hands…

…and yet that happiness hadn’t ended.

For the next moment…

Smash!!
came a sound as the barrier around the church was destroyed.

Agnes reflexively took her eyes away from Orsola.

Something had happened that forced her to do so.

“It…broke…? Could it be…? Hey! Someone check on the Protection of Giles we put on that door! And scout for enemies! Shit, what group could this be? No one person could have possibly broken a barrier of that level. What enemy faction could be attacking us…?!”

Commands, issued in rapid succession.

But before any of them could be carried out, she got the answer she wanted.

“Ah…” Orsola Aquinas looked.

The oaken double doors at the entrance to the church were thrown open. And there someone stood, like a rough storybook scene where the prince comes to save his princess.

The one standing there was just a boy.

It was an ordinary young man—and yet he neither fled nor ran.

Who was he here for?

What was he here for?

The two-hundred-strong sisters surrounding Orsola turned their harsh glares on the boy but didn’t make a sound. There were already hundreds of people to cause violence against him, and none of them was normal, either. He had to have felt fear. There was no way he didn’t. He was no more than an utterly average young man—so he must have been scared.

And yet.

And yet, without hesitation, he took a step.

A step into the church veiled in darkness, in order to save Orsola Aquinas.

He took the step…for her.

As if to declare that everything would be all right.

Touma Kamijou set foot into the huge, unfinished church.

It was a terrible place.

Hundreds of people were gathered here with no air conditioner on this sultry night—it may have been huge, but it felt like a secret room, wrapped in a strange heat. The thick smell of sweat drifted from the darkness, giving it the impression of a deep, giant nesting hole.

Hundreds of sisters dressed in black, blending with the darkness, eddying about.

He saw one girl on the floor in the middle of them, and his eyes narrowed without a sound.

Then he heard a derisive laugh that seemed to know what he was feeling.

He looked toward its source to see Agnes Sanctis for what seemed like the first time.

“You know, I did think it was quite strange.” She giggled and broke into a smile. “Why did some total amateur like you, not even a sorcerer, get brought out to the battlefield as a guest?…I don’t know what logic went into that one, but I suppose you must hold some absolute power over barriers.”

“…”

“Oh my, what’s the matter? Did you lose something? Did you want a reward? Oh, well, if you’re still attached to that
thing
over there, I can strip her bare for you if you want.”

Her voice was tinged with irritation and enthusiasm. It was a joy not unlike having drunk bad alcohol.

“Just one question. You’re not gonna lie anymore, are you?”

“Lie? About what?! Can’t you tell what’s happening here? Who is the greater, and who is the lesser? You can’t possibly be stupid enough to think you can stand on the same stage as me, do you? Now, I want to hear your choice from you—what will you do when faced with this many people?”

Just one versus more than two hundred certainly didn’t present very good odds. If Kamijou fought them all head-on, he stood no
chance. Agnes knew that, too. She casually walked right up to him, without any caution, as if to provoke him.

She thought that Kamijou could never strike her. If he threw even one punch, that punch would mark the beginning of a hopeless battle.

“Sheesh. You’re an idiot—and a big one, at that. I thought the English Puritans made the wise choice and ran home—but what about you? Hmm. Well, whatever. You can’t do anything by yourself, so if you want to run away, I’ll let you do so. See? I’m giving you one last chance. You know exactly what you need to do, don’t you?”

Kamijou smiled feebly at Agnes Sanctis’s relaxed words. “My last chance…I know exactly what I need to do, huh?” And then, in a voice that sounded somehow relieved, he replied:

“You’re right. This is my last chance, that’s for sure. I completely understand.”

Wham!!
Kamijou’s right fist tore through the air.