At the same time, in St. George’s Cathedral in Britain, a slim western sword made of what looked like particles of light ripped into the sorcerer Stiyl Magnus, slashing him from his shoulder to his breast. The sword of Freyr, god of fertility. Moving on its own, the Soul Arm would always slash the opponent’s vital spots, and it had just torn Stiyl’s clavicle and ripped through thick arteries and internal organs.
The expression on the girl named Index remained still.
Stiyl’s movements stopped.
And even then, multiple attacks continued.
Two more swords stabbed into Stiyl’s waist and back, and as if to land the finishing blow, the bloodred wings swung down—an utterly hopeless, overwhelming attack. A combo that, as it crushed every bit of his human flesh, also dealt fatal damage to his life force, the wellspring of mana.
However.
The expressionless Index then tilted her head slightly to the side.
The swords and wings had certainly slid inside Stiyl’s body. That, however, was the only change. It had happened too smoothly. No blood spilled, and no flesh crushed. Human bodies couldn’t be cut apart like a spoon going through yogurt.
Her judgment lapsed for a moment.
And by the time she realized it was a product of sorcery, the next thing had happened.
✦ ✦ ✦
“A mirage. A common trick.”
✦ ✦ ✦
A voice from behind her.
An odd feeling on her back.
A moment later, there was the zhh-bang!! of an explosion that sounded like a lightning strike. Stiyl had demonstrated the full power of the binding cards he’d pasted all over.
Creeeeeeaaaaak!!!!!! Index’s spine arched and cracked.
“Warning. Chapter 47, Verse 80. Confirmed psychosomatic binding effect due to psychological effects. Affecting cognitive faculties. Guiding binding effect toward dummy region and prioritizing the securing of the ability to back-calculate spell.”
Starting from the side that’d been triggered, the runes inscribed on the laminated cards began to fade, like posters left in the sunlight too long. The coloring, an important matter for runes, was beginning to be undone. Naturally, when the color was gone, the effects would end. They wouldn’t hold for long.
…The remote-control Soul Arm’s intervention is weakening her, but she’s still a library of 103,000 grimoires. I doubt this will be enough to seal her.
All Stiyl Magnus could do was buy time.
On a fundamental level, he could not beat Index.
However.
“That doesn’t matter.”
Stiyl smiled a little, taking new rune cards out of his inside pocket.
“If that detestable man finishes things in the meantime, we’ll have won.”
Click. He heard the sound of a footstep.
He looked that way and saw Laura Stuart smiling.
She was waggling something she was holding in her hand.
Stiyl was stunned, at first thinking it was the remote-control Soul Arm—but it wasn’t.
What she was holding was a card-shaped communication Soul Arm.
“Reward for you,” she said.
The Roman Orthodox Church and the Russian Catholic Church.
While bringing her lips to the communication Soul Arm connected to each of their leaders…
“Well! It looks like you’ve filled your quota, so I, too, will do my very darndest to recover the library of grimoires.”
✦ ✦ ✦
And so:
The English Puritan Church, the Roman Orthodox Church, and the Russian Catholic Church.
The three greatest denominations of Crossism had finally joined forces.
To strip power away from Fiamma of the Right’s fortress, the Star of Bethlehem, and stop any further atrocities.
Together, they broke the chains binding the world and began to act.