A Certain Magical Index, Vol. 21 Read online

  Without mercy.

  To grant death to all living things.

  Boom!! echoed an explosion.

  However—it was not the sound of Misha Kreutzev making landfall.

  It was the sound of someone colliding with the archangel in midair.

  Neither the Academy City tank crews nor the Russian troops understood what had just happened. Their state of confusion was so stunning that it took them time to even realize the simple fact that their lives still continued on.

  A woman had clashed with the archangel.

  A blond-haired woman, wearing a dress that was red like burning fire, holding a sword of flashing light in her right hand.

  Despite her location three hundred meters aboveground—a clear departure from the range of motion a simple human was supposed to be capable of—the woman, shot at her target like a rocket, had clashed one-on-one with the archangel.

  For the first time, Misha’s trajectory deviated.

  Losing most of its force and speed, Misha Kreutzev’s body, its trajectory forced into a sideways slide, thrust toward the ground—not vertically but at an angle. This time, no crater was created. Bouncing a few times, Misha stabbed its ice wings into the ground to force itself to stop. It was evident that troops from both armies were hastily moving away from the archangel’s surroundings.

  What was that?

  What happened?

  One of the Academy City tank crewmen was rattled, but he neither had time to think deeply nor settle his mind. The woman in the red dress who had exchanged blows with Misha in the skies landed right next to the tank crewman.

  Without using a parachute or anything.

  With only her two feet, she floated down.

  “Ah, ah, whooaa?!”

  The tank crewman, fallen on his rear end, tried to get away, but the woman paid no attention to him. She only gave a shake of her sword made of flashing light and glanced toward the archangel.

  At the horror that he didn’t want to place in his field of vision, even for an instant.

  “…Seriously. Even these so-called heavenly gofers are basically just monsters like this, so. I thought I’d get an earful of all sorts of heaven’s secrets considering she’s the angel of the Enunciation, but we can’t even speak to each other.”

  Her voice was plainly scornful.

  In addition.

  “If you are anything of a nation’s princess, why not have a little more restraint? …Although I suppose I have no right to criticize now that you’ve persuaded me to come to a place even Napoleon grew sick and tired of.”

  What?! …What—? When did she show up?!

  The tank crewman, who turned around after perceiving another woman’s voice, then noticed for the first time the pallid woman wearing a loose-fitting outfit of white cloth.

  But that wasn’t all.

  “Even still, ma’am, the idea of you exchanging blows in these conditions makes this a grave situation. It does indeed seem that the enemy has prepared something with purity equaling—or even exceeding—the Curtana.”

  This time, it was a man’s voice. There, behind a man wearing an expensive-looking suit, waited hundreds, if not thousands, of people. It was unbelievable. Sure, there were a few hills and valleys here and there—but it was basically flatland here. There were no obstacles that could hide this many people. And despite that…

  But it didn’t seem like this situation was something he could ask the details of from the woman in the red dress, the pallid woman, or the man in the suit.

  They exchanged words with cool expressions.

  “I figure your weapon nullification spell doesn’t work?”

  “Unfortunately no, ma’am. This is far beyond its level. And it may be that those wings are being perceived not as weapons, but as part of its body.”

  “What is Necessarius doing anyway? Can’t we use that saint they have?”

  “They seem to be prioritizing medical aid for the wounded, for both Academy City and the Russian forces. For her, it seems battle is but one means of salvation, and other methods were higher on her priority list.”

  Carissa tisked softly at the Knight Leader’s words.

  The Femme Fatale’s eyebrow twitched. “That seems the proper response for the Puritans, no?” Ignoring the glare the second princess cast on her, the French holy woman continued. “In the first place, that department has been killing far too much.”

  “Don’t need you to tell me that,” muttered Carissa. “Hmph. That means I’ll just have to manage with this.”

  Voom!! She swung the sword of flashing light once.

  Then she turned toward the woman with the sickly looking skin, who gripped a sword adorned with decorations, and said, “You good, Frenchy?”

  “I don’t know why you’re asking me when you’re the one who fiddled with the mobile fortress Glastonbury’s parameters. Now that you’re pouring French national power toward the Durandal, I’m sure you fully intend to use and discard me.”

  Creak-creak-crack-crack resounded an abnormal noise.

  It was the sound of Misha, fallen in the distance, pulling its wings of ice out of the ground.

  The woman in the red dress held out the tip of her flashing sword and made her defiant announcement.

  “Come at me, monster. It’s time to teach you that same archangelic power rests condensed in my hand, too.”

  2

  Carissa, second princess of Britain.

  The Femme Fatale, holy woman of France.

  The action they took was a simple one.

  They charged directly for Misha Kreutzev.

  B-b-b-b-boom!!!!!! The burst exploded after their movement had already taken place. The identity of the loud reverberation, similar to an artillery blast, was a shock wave due to breaking the sound barrier. Carissa and the Femme Fatale, fanned out to either side of the archangel, both aimed for Misha Kreutzev’s neck like a huge pair of scissors.

  Everyone’s eyes opened wide.

  Their two swords each sunk into Misha’s icy wings.

  But even that only lasted a moment.

  The blades shaved off the countless wings with the effortlessness of mowing grass before attempting to end Misha’s life in one fell swoop.

  Misha Kreutzev’s hands moved. It pointed each of its palms outward, as though holding open a train door.

  That was all.

  The Curtana and the Durandal, which had sliced through one death-inducing ice wing after the next, couldn’t even deal a grazing blow to the archangel’s palms. The swords’ motions were gently halted, as though adhering to them.

  The angel’s head shifted smoothly, setting its hollow eyes on Carissa.

  A moment later:

  Roar!! A thunderous booming echoed.

  It was the sound of Carissa and the Femme Fatale having their respective swords’ energies explode. The two were thrown out to the left and right in a large arc. They didn’t fall to the ground, but their soles slid over the snow, and the sting of impact remained.

  “hboirgPRIORnbugbITIZEvoraghv”

  Misha Kreutzev spoke, its head tilting slightly with a pop.

  Its body turned to face Carissa again.

  “nriosgnPRIORITIZEiorseog”

  The archangel’s palm was thrust out.

  And then:

  Krshhh!!!!!! Something grazed Carissa’s cheek and instantly exploded behind her, shattering an entire hill.

  Her reactions couldn’t keep up.

  She could do nothing but realize that fact as Misha slightly adjusted its palm.

  It had corrected the trajectory.

  “…!! Out of the way, barbarian!!”

  Just before it fired, the Femme Fatale moved faster than the speed of sound. Traveling in an arc around the supernatural being, she came in at Carissa’s side and delivered a flying kick. A normal person might have blown up in that situation, but for them, even something this insane was an act of kindness.

  A moment later, something fired from the archangel’s
palm.

  Clumps of snow and dirt exploded spectacularly, but they both still had all their limbs attached.

  “What was that? I couldn’t even see it.”

  “Gabriel is a messenger angel. She probably excels in the sending and receiving of information. She uses the information of intuition and indication as a clever decoy, then sends it out in any direction, at any distance, and with any timing. Rely on your normal senses. If you trust your sixth sense, your timing will be off.”

  “hbwioraEFFECnbsitbgTIVEoargwerge”

  “This isn’t good. She’s gotten a taste, and now she wants more, so.”

  “No, you just fell for her schemes, you barbarian.”

  Shwahhh!! Many wings unfolded from Misha’s back. They all seemed off. They’d probably been changed so that the speed at which one read indications from the wings would be faster or slower, just like whatever it was that had fired from her palm before.

  They couldn’t get ahead of them.

  If they tried to predict them, it would backfire.

  Right after they made sure they knew that, Misha’s wings moved.

  With speed surpassing sound, over a hundred wings assaulted them at once.

  “…!!”

  Ba-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-za-za-za-za-za-ga-ga-ga-ga-gi-gi-gi-gi!!!!!! Countless sparks flew. It was akin to a situation of repelling every shot from a gatling gun, but when the bullets moved around like living creatures, the difficulty soared higher. Just keeping up with the motions was plenty praiseworthy for humans, but Carissa and the Femme Fatale wore ill expressions.

  Since decoys hid within the indications they used to get a read on the wings, they always had a timing lag during their initial movements.

  Because of that, while they could intercept, they didn’t have room to turn things around.

  The battle situation stalled, with them only receiving attacks from Misha one-sidedly, descending into a war of attrition.

  The battle stalling was not a good thing.

  All it did was show how they hadn’t found any way to counterattack.

  “Something wrong, barbarian?! Didn’t the Curtana eat up as much archangel power as the enemy?!”

  “Shit. It seems like it’s gobbled down enough of the quantity, but I don’t know anything about angels. Seems like I’m losing in technique, not strength. What about you?”

  “I can’t keep up with the power—just with the relic embedded in the hilt! And our objective wasn’t to kill an archangel; that would be a pipe dream!!”

  Skree!! went the sound of something scraping.

  On its face, only recognizable from indentations, the piece corresponding to its mouth squirmed around.

  “bzsoINCRgzEASINGeuipghSPEEDerug”

  “This…thing…!! We still haven’t seen the most of i—!!”

  Carissa’s face drew back, but Misha surmounted her expectations further.

  Over one hundred wings of ice, big and small.

  It took them…

  …and suddenly aimed not at Carissa or the Femme Fatale—but at the forces of Academy City and Russia.

  Damn this thing…!!

  A moment later, as the second princess was moving at a supersonic speed, she twisted her body to change direction, diving between the archangel and the soldiers.

  To protect the lives of the people from this angelic tyranny.

  Misha Kreutzev showed no mercy.

  For the archangel had been expecting this opening.

  I see.

  In that instant, Carissa, time passing unnaturally slowly for her, realized, Military actions utilizing the martial strength of an archangel. It really goes to show you how worthless my revolution that I forced upon the people was.

  A hundred wings swung down at once.

  Someone let out a shout.

  And then.

  Brrm-brrrrrrrrrmmmmmmmmm!!!!!! A massive quaking struck the Russian lands.

  Carissa had gritted her teeth, but sticky, fresh blood spurted from between her lips.

  Her entire spine groaned in agony.

  She’d stopped the attack using the Curtana’s power, but caught between the pressure from above and the earth below, she’d very nearly spit out her organs like a full can of soda getting crushed.

  But that wasn’t even the most terrifying part.

  Blood fell from the second princess’s palm.

  The fragment of the Curtana itself, which had created that sword of flashing light, had shattered, unable to withstand the immense force.

  “bndoEFFECTIVENESSlgCONFIRMEDbsdog”

  Misha Kreutzev calmly observed her.

  And then:

  “bguzsegbCONTrlgINUINGvbATTACKrgb”

  Vwah!! The hundred wings attacked once again.

  As if to say that it planned to repeat any effective attack as many times as it needed.

  But Carissa had already lost the sword of flashing light in her hand.

  She didn’t have the Curtana fragment, either, that had created it.

  It came at her.

  An attack of absolute wings that would destroy all things.

  And this time.

  Even sound itself went away.

  Everything was frozen.

  The French faction, starting with the Femme Fatale; the British faction, represented by the Knight Leader; and the Academy City and Russian forces, who didn’t even have a proper recognition of the thing called sorcery. With what just happened before their eyes, they all had stopped in their tracks.

  However.

  It wasn’t because of the destructive force Misha Kreutzev had unleashed.

  “…Sure, my sword borrowed the power of all of Britain by routing it through a fragment of the Curtana Second. And it would make sense that it would lose its power once destroyed.”

  They heard a voice.

  It came from the one in the red dress.

  From the princess of the queen’s nation.

  From the woman with mastery over military affairs.

  “But I never said I only had one Curtana Second fragment, so.”

  Kzzt!! Flashing pure-white light burst forth.

  And not only one.

  One in each hand. And then, as if to adorn her dress skirt, ten more swords floated behind her waist.

  “…I’m still a princess with her nation on the line, so. Did you think I’d bite the dust that easily?”

  “hdtrnDAMAbGEgurgCONFIRMEDhtr”

  Skreeeek!! With a shrill noise, Misha repositioned its icy wings.

  “bauoCONTINgrlnUINGjjATTACKyhBASEDfvgASSUtgseagREDtrrhgsDESTRUCTIONr”

  Carissa snorted.

  Even as her legs trembled from the effects of sustaining severe injuries, her grin never wavered.

  She spoke to the Femme Fatale, who had landed next to her in a single leap.

  “…How much longer until our true goal is complete, do you think?”

  Preparations for withdrawal were progressing.

  Academy City and Russian military alike—currently they were being made to swiftly retreat as directed by the forces of Britain and France. Soldiers were being dragged from broken powered suits, and the wounded were being loaded onto still-operational tanks.

  “It depends on how far they need to run before they’re safe. If not even the other side of the world will help, then it’s over anyway.”

  “How laid-back of you.”

  “Do I seem that way?”

  The archangel and the two women clashed once more.

  Neither Carissa nor the Femme Fatale, each wielding their blades, was unharmed. Misha’s ice wings were already moving at incredibly high speeds—and their timing was off thanks to the feints. They’d avoided taking lethal damage, but smaller cuts and scrapes were beginning to accumulate on their bodies. The wounds weren’t from direct hits from the ice wings, but rather from the icy shards that broke off when their weapons clashed.

  Even so, it didn’t change the fact that they were being whittled down.

  If this kept up, Caris
sa and the Femme Fatale would surely exhaust themselves, decisively dulling their movements, and end up taking a mortal blow.

  But still.

  Neither had confronted the archangel because they wanted to commit suicide.

  So swinging her flashing blades in wide, sweeping arcs, Carissa, along with the Femme Fatale, created distance for now.

  “Anyway,” said Carissa, taking a small communicator from her dress’s chest. “I would like to keep my life intact. I think it’s time I used the next best plan.”

  “…Would you please not take things out of there? As another woman, I find it quite improper.”

  Carissa ignored her and spoke into the radio.

  “All Pellet Crossbow vehicles on standby. Fire your SAMs at once.”

  About five kilometers away from the battlefield, behind a hill, was a group of over thirty parked vehicles: some for firing missiles, others for providing targeting assistance via radar, some trucks loaded with additional ammunition, and still others with cranes for loading it all.

  The main vehicles were irregularly shaped, like trucks with caterpillar treads. And instead of truck beds, they had beehive-like missile-launching containers on them, each comprising twenty cylindrical tubes.

  And nobody said to conserve their ammo.

  Starting with one vehicle, twenty flames spurted out in rapid succession. Missiles also fired simultaneously from the other vehicles lined up next to it. The white, stringy smoke began to fill the skies. Over a hundred missiles tore through the heavens.

  At first, Misha Kreutzev didn’t even bother looking.

  It must have decided it could let them all hit it without a problem.

  But immediately after, it realized the truth of the matter.

  Those projectiles were surface-to-air missiles. In other words, they weren’t aiming for Misha, who was on the surface—they were aiming for the Star of Bethlehem, floating high in the sky.

  “I don’t know if you understand human words, but I’ll ask this anyway.”

  As Carissa swung her flashing swords, she mustered the most wicked smile she could.

  “You sure you should be wasting time here? I’d think defending your base has a pretty high priority itself.”

  “buigbsuiezgsLOSEutrsethtsrth”

  “Don’t get mad at me.”

  The second princess casually brushed off even the bloodlust pouring toward her.