At that moment, the sky above London was first filled with yellow stars, followed gradually by red, blue, and green ones.
A brilliant array of colors filled the heavens, the stars shining magnificently.
The citizens of London, who had mobilized after the outbreak of the great war and Crown Princess Carissa's departure to lead the army into battle, could not help stopping in their tracks to gaze up at the spectacular celestial phenomenon, which resembled a religious painting.
While ordinary people were still marveling at this magnificent astronomical spectacle, Britain's magicians were staring at it in horror.
There was no mistaking it. The power that had suddenly appeared and then abruptly exploded belonged to the miracles of the Christian faith. It was divine power!
With Fiamma of the Right's body serving as the controlling anchor, and the malice of the entire world concentrated upon him, the immense Christian ritual emanating from the Star of Bethlehem was restoring the four great elements to their proper positions. Even novice magicians who had only recently begun their studies could clearly sense the change.
The elements throughout the world seemed to be boiling. Some enormous ritual was correcting the positions of the world's four great elements.
Inside St. George's Cathedral, where reports from the Anglican Church's department dedicated to hunting Crowley were being received, two figures sat comfortably in their chairs.
One was the leader of the Anglican Church, Archbishop Laura Stuart.
"So Aleister Crowley really is Edward Alexander Crowley. Just as I thought..."
Just as I thought. Those were the words Laura had chosen.
The cold, solemn atmosphere of St. George's Cathedral seemed to freeze at the mere mention of that man's name.
The magician Edward Alexander Crowley.
Those unfamiliar with the magic side could never truly comprehend the weight of that name, whether in terms of admiration or infamy.
The legendary strongest magician in the world, the most famous magician of the modern era, and the man who established the foundations of modern Western magic. Had he lived in another age, he might even have qualified for inclusion in the New Testament of the Bible.
Approximately twenty percent of the world's current magicians were his disciples, and nearly fifty percent had been influenced by him to some degree.
Some regarded him as the greatest and noblest magician in the world, while others considered him the most despicable, contemptible scumbag ever to practice magic.
That was because he had personally brought about the destruction of the Golden Dawn, the largest and most powerful magical cabal in the world at the time.
Even within the Golden Dawn, which had no shortage of eccentrics, Aleister was a man with his own peculiar characteristics.
His bizarre behavior included, but was by no means limited to, "diligently studying magic while personally writing erotic novels that used more than a hundred metaphors to describe sexual acts," "constantly quarreling with his colleagues and then casting them together in his own plays to vent his anger," "replacing the butterfly ornament covering the private parts of an indecent statue with his own bow tie," and "bringing his own private parts into a ritual chamber."
He had even used a group of little girls, roughly the same age as his daughter, as sacrifices for his experiments.
...Nevertheless, he had established new definitions for so-called other worlds, such as Heaven and Hell, which existed on different levels while overlapping one another. He had also opened entirely new horizons for magical rituals. In that respect, his contributions were undeniable.
After killing his mentor and destroying the Golden Dawn, Aleister had unquestionably become the most heinous criminal in the history of the magic side.
Especially since he had actually abandoned magic and defected to science.
Aleister's actions were tantamount to claiming the title of representative of magical culture and then, without anyone's permission, raising the white flag of surrender to scientific civilization. What did that amount to?
Your ministers are prepared to fight to the death, so why has Your Majesty surrendered first?
That alone was enough to send one's blood pressure soaring. To the magical world, there could be no greater humiliation.
Unfortunately for Aleister, he was not an emperor, nor did he have a succeeding dynasty or descendants in power to whitewash his reputation. Consequently, even after so many years of supposed death, Aleister remained the enemy of magicians throughout the world.
Although official reports stated that he had died on December 1, 1947, and his grave was supposedly located somewhere in the British countryside, a specialized department dedicated to countering Crowley had remained active. Its purpose was to deal with magical cabals established by his successors in his name, as well as the possibility that he himself might still be alive.
And now, the spiritual equipment specifically designed to detect him had produced an unbelievable result.
That man, who was supposed to be dead...
The magician who had supposedly perished at the hands of Anglican assassins was still alive. How could the members of the anti-Crowley department not be furious?
That criminal!
"Your Grace, shall we...?"
"Withdraw."
"Understood! I'll prepare the hunting squad immediately... Huh?! Your Grace, did you just...?" The magician from the anti-Crowley department belatedly raised his head in disbelief.
"I said, withdraw," Laura repeated with a gentle smile.
"Y-yes! At once!"
When St. George's Cathedral fell silent once more, a long pause followed. Finally, the leader of the Knights, the Knight Leader seated opposite Laura, spoke.
"Your Grace, Her Majesty the Queen has delegated her authority and withdrawn from public affairs to recuperate. Crown Princess Carissa is currently acting as regent and defending the Calais-Gravelines line in France against the attacks of the 'Woman Who Could Destroy a Nation.' I must ask you to take charge of the overall situation."
In sharp contrast to the gentle expression of the seemingly youthful archbishop, the Knight Leader wore a stern, forbidding look.
He appeared to be approximately thirty-five or thirty-six years old, with neatly combed blond hair, handsome features, and impeccable posture. Dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, his speech and mannerisms were exceptionally refined.
Perhaps it was due to his family background, combined with the nature of his duties. As someone responsible for protecting members of the royal bloodline, he was required to master the etiquette of royal castles and palaces and remain faithful to the principles of knighthood. He radiated the stern dignity characteristic of a military aristocrat.
As the leaders of two of Britain's three major factions, these two stood at the very pinnacle of actual political power in the country, second only to the highly respected Queen Elizard of the Royal Family Faction and the current regent, Crown Princess Carissa.
The Knight Leader's underlying message was simple. Don't act recklessly. Do you still think Britain is the empire upon which the sun never sets?
Their greatest enemy at present was the Roman Catholic Church. Once Britain defeated the alliance between the Roman Catholic Church and secular nations such as France, it would be able to extract sufficient benefits from the defeated powers.
Besides, Academy City was extraordinarily powerful, and Edward Alexander Crowley was its Board Chairman. That made it all the more necessary to consider their next move carefully.
They had both witnessed the globally broadcast battle between Academy City's Number One-ranked esper and that unidentified magician. Britain's territory could not possibly withstand even a casual exchange between combatants of that caliber.
"Take charge of the overall situation... Aren't Elizard, Princess Rimea, and Princess Villian all in London?"
Reminiscent of flickering candlelight mingling with the colorful glow filtering through stained glass, Archbishop Laura thoughtfully played with her magnificent golden hair, which was so beautiful it would not have looked out of place displayed for sale in a jewelry store.
Without question, she had refused.
"Have you truly thought this through?" The Knight Leader could not help rising from his seat.
In his eyes, the grievances and vendettas of the magic side were nowhere near as important as making Britain great again.
"Calm yourself."
Laura also rose, casually waving a hand to soothe the Knight Leader's emotions. Her tone left no room for argument.
Without answering his question, she slowly approached the stained-glass window glowing with the magnificent colors of the sky beyond. It was as though killing Edward Alexander Crowley mattered more to her than her duties as head of the Anglican Church, or even her own existence.
"To think that even he has taken action... Fiamma of the Right has probably been defeated, then... But why haven't the Christian miracles occurring throughout the world disappeared...?"
The long-distance observation spell she had been using was already on the verge of collapse, revealing only vague outlines. Although it still allowed her to determine the target's approximate location, she could no longer ascertain whom he was speaking to, who was standing beside him, or any other specific details.
Nevertheless, Laura Stuart's expression had already undergone a dramatic transformation.
"...In that case."
The next instant, she removed the enormous silver hair clip that held her golden hair in place, hair that measured nearly two and a half times her own height.
"Your Grace, what are you...?"
At that moment, the Knight Leader's eyes widened. A bone-chilling cold surged from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head. His scalp prickled as though an icy wind were blowing across it, and his entire body felt as if it had been plunged into a frozen cavern. He could not help trembling...
The dazzling golden hair cascading downward like a waterfall seemed to possess some strange magical quality. Yet something else was concealed within its folded ends. A color belonging to the deepest darkness slowly emerged.
It was difficult to imagine how simply letting down one's hair could alter one's entire bearing so drastically. Every trace of Laura Stuart's seemingly girlish personality—her mischievous cunning, eccentric playfulness, and innocent absentmindedness—vanished completely.
In its place was...
Profound darkness. Countless sinister, chilling shadows. Above Laura's loosened golden hair, an "enormous and ominous demonic visage" radiated a horrifying aura of despair.
In his daze, the Knight Leader recalled an ancient legend claiming that demons lurked within the hair of old witches.
"Things are only going to become more interesting from here, Aleister. And it's about time this troublesome contract came to an end once and for all..."
...
The Star of Bethlehem fortress.
"Kamijou!"
"Hey! Wake up!"
"Don't you dare die on me, you bastard! Index is still waiting for you!"
Smack! Smack!
Through the haze of unconsciousness, Kamijou Touma heard someone calling out to him. He seemed to hear the name of someone extremely important to him. Before long, the indistinct world around him began shaking back and forth, and something seemed to hurt a little... Wait, hurt?
Kamijou Touma's eyes flew open. Standing directly in front of him was Stiyl Magnus, a cigarette clenched between his lips, preparing to deliver another enormous slap across his face. Kamijou immediately panicked. "Stop, stop, stop! Quit hitting me! Ow, ow!"
Instinctively trying to raise a hand to shield his face, Kamijou Touma suddenly discovered that collapsed church buildings surrounded him on every side. More importantly, his right arm was completely gone!
"Phew... I told you this guy wouldn't die that easily." Stiyl immediately breathed a sigh of relief. He had been blasted so thoroughly that he resembled a blackened rat, and he no longer cared about maintaining his appearance. Dropping onto a pile of rubble, he looked down at the black-haired, spiky-haired boy, who was panting heavily. "Things should be wrapping up over there soon, too."
"Yes. The force sent to subjugate Vento of the Front has been defeated. As for the remaining battlefields... Even I would certainly die if I entered them!"
The speaker was Kanzaki Kaori, a magician from the East.
Her black hair was tied into a ponytail. Her T-shirt, whose hem had been knotted high enough to nearly expose her navel, had been slashed so badly by sharp objects that she might as well not have been wearing it.
Her coarse cotton jacket had vanished entirely, while her exposed arms and thighs were scorched red by extreme heat, steam constantly rising from them. It was obvious that protecting the others from Selene's solar flare bombardment had demanded a tremendous effort from Kanzaki Kaori.
BOOOOM!
As though to confirm Kanzaki Kaori's words, hundreds upon thousands of hazy suns suddenly blazed into existence along the southwestern horizon. Waves of heat reached the corner of the fortress where the three were located. The resulting shock waves shattered every window in the assembled church buildings and caused their foundations to tremble slightly.
"Selene saved you."
Kanzaki Kaori was straightforward enough to state the truth without embellishment. She could sense that Kamijou Touma had lost his previous clash with Fiamma of the Right. As for why Fiamma had not immediately finished him off, the terrifying energy fluctuations that erupted afterward provided the answer.
Selene had intervened and interrupted Fiamma of the Right's actions. At least, that was what Kanzaki Kaori believed.
"So she saved me again, huh."
"At least you understand that much. But she can't always arrive in time to save you. Your right hand is gone, and considering the current situation, Kamijou Touma, you'd better stay here and rest." Seeing what the black-haired boy intended to do after getting to his feet, Stiyl immediately poured cold water on his plans.
Kamijou Touma said nothing. He merely struggled to catch his breath, ignoring the bloodstains covering his body as he stubbornly raised his head.
"So what?! This is what I've always done! I'm not so weak that I'd let a bastard like that use my power to save the so-called world he keeps talking about! Even if I've lost my right hand, I can just take it back!"
"You hopeless, thickheaded lunatic..."
Just as Stiyl was about to begin another of his lectures, a tremendous rushing sound erupted.
Whoooosh!
From the distant horizon, an impassioned, heroic voice rang out with overwhelming force.
"You're burdened by hesitation, your fundamental essence is incomplete, your strength is feeble, and your techniques are unrefined! With so many shortcomings, what gives you the right to argue with me?!"
At that moment, Kamijou Touma felt an extraordinarily immense pressure emanating from the sky. It was accompanied by a sacred choral chant remarkably similar to the one Index produced when she entered John's Pen mode. But how many people would be required to produce a chant on such an enormous scale?
A million? Ten million? Or a hundred million?!
"Wh-what's happening...? My right hand..."
As though responding to something, an object within his body seemed determined to emerge. Kamijou Touma abruptly grabbed his right shoulder, enormous beads of sweat slowly rolling down his forehead.
"AAAAAAH!"
Accompanied by the boy's roar, an invisible power erupted once more from the empty space where his right hand had been.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Amid the trembling of space-time fluctuations as cold and sharp as slicing blades, the Blasting Rod in Aleister's hand began shining with extraordinary intensity.
"I shall shatter every Phase..."
At that moment, Aleister's eyes glittered like stars. It was as though he had finally glimpsed "that place."
"Coordinates."
Purplish-red radiance spilled from the heavens. The enormous star suspended high above, now completely synchronized with the Bethlehem ritual, emitted a crimson-violet glow that illuminated Earth, as well as the boundless "lines" and "planes" enveloping it.
...
"Has it begun?"
In that case, it's time to bring our little performance to an end.
Sensing that Aleister was preparing to risk his life, Selene eased her offensive slightly and looked at the battered man before her.
"Time to use a few tricks to get rid of you."