Editing Toaru Majutsu no Index:Volume SP Chapter1 (section)

===Part 5===
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He had not been given a reason.

At first, all he received was the ruling.

“Richard Brave. A concern has arisen that your primary spell, Lævateinn, is in violation of the treaty. Immediately take corrective measures or, if that is impossible, dispose of the spell.”

He had not been given the opportunity to plead his case.

At first, he had only profited.

Lævateinn was Richard Brave’s greatest weapon. Richard had created that weapon after researching countless things, repeating countless experiments, working for countless hours, and fine-tuning it countless times. It was the symbol of his life as he had deemed it worthy to dedicate his life to.

That spell had prevented many tragedies.

He had followed his orders and killed many enemies with it.

He had nothing else.

If it was taken from him, he would have nothing left.

And he believed in Lævateinn to the point he did not care if he had nothing else.

But he could not overturn it.

He could not overturn the unilateral order from the higher ups of the Anglican Church telling him to dispose of it.

“…”

That had been a turning point in his life.

Everything about Richard Brave became twisted, his hatred for the Anglican Church had grown within him, and he had pursued Lævateinn even further by desiring the skills of the Dvergr.

From that turning point, he had headed for the flames of hell.



An explosion rang out.

A shockwave roared through the nighttime park and the wall of flames wavered due to external forces.

Two figures danced within the orange-tinted landscape.

Stiyl Magnus.

Richard Brave.

The two flame magicians ran through the park, the walking path, and the forest. The battlefield changed from one moment to the next. They left Patricia Birdway behind and their battlefield moved across the land and continued through the darkness like a living being. The all-consuming flames of Lævateinn no longer simply chased after Stiyl. Stiyl’s flame sword evenly matched Lævateinn. He received blows and even countered.

As he ran, Stiyl pulled out a few rune cards.

Stiyl’s runes activated after he arranged them.

His magic displayed its greatest power within an area he himself indicated, so he should not have been able to use his proper strength while constantly on the move.

However, the cards floated in midair.

Countless cards flew around like swallows and created magic circles, sticking to the trees, the ground, and the streetlights.

Richard’s expression twisted.

(''So he set up other runes to send out his main runes''. …He just has little tricks all over the place.)

In order to create one piece of magic, Stiyl had two or three different spells prepared. Normally, it would have been impossible in that situation, but Stiyl’s power continued to rise.

“!!”

“!?”

They spoke no words.

Only the sound of their breathing escaped their mouths.

They pressed in, trying to kill the other as they sliced through the darkness using their glowing magic swords. The two small pillars of flames clashed in midair and continually repelled each other as if there truly was a steel sword within. The great sounds of the impacts reverberated through the air.

Stiyl Magnus was not burned to death.

Up until then, Richard’s Lævateinn had burned through everything it had come into contact with. That included building walls, asphalt, Stiyl’s flame sword, and Theodosia’s explosive blast. However, that was no longer happening. Richard’s sword and Stiyl’s sword were evenly matched.

Richard felt a close-quarters battle would not be to his advantage, so he created masses of flames to swallow up Stiyl, but Stiyl Magnus would slice through them or evade them and then fill in the gap between them after that slight lag.

Richard’s victory was crumbling.

The battle had jumped its set rails and was now rushing toward some unknown place.

(What is going on…?)

Richard started panicking inwardly as he gripped his weapon.

Lævateinn was the ultimate spiritual item that could burn through anything with no exceptions. However, Stiyl was matching it evenly. Instead of fleeing or being swallowed up by the flames, he was truly fighting. A true battle to the death where neither party knew how it would end had begun.

(How can he eliminate my Lævateinn so easily?)

The term “misfire” entered Richard’s mind.

For some reason, Lævateinn was not displaying its proper power. That was why someone as supposedly weak as Stiyl was catching up to him.

But…

(No, this is…)

Stiyl was not one to overestimate his abilities.

He did not randomly charge in to a fight. If he detected the slightest bit of danger, he would unhesitatingly fall back and he would not force his way in even if he saw an opportunity. Richard gritted his teeth. Stiyl knew where the line between safety and danger was. After everything Richard had seen, he could not account for Stiyl’s survival as being based on “coincidence” or “good luck”.

“Don’t tell me…”

Richard spoke as he swung Lævateinn which produced a sea of flames that spread out like a tsunami. It was a meaningless question for a magician in mid-battle. In fact, it had a chance of providing his opponent with a means of victory in some situations.

“Don’t tell me you’ve figured it out!”

Even so, he said it.

He said it despite what his reason told him.

In response, Stiyl swung his flame sword with his right hand and used his left hand to pull his cigarette from his mouth. He did not need to light it. It had already been lit with an orange light due to the attacks they had been exchanging.

He swung his flame sword and sliced the all-engulfing tsunami of flames right down the middle. Lævateinn’s flames did not burn away everything as before. Stiyl Magnus had truly destroyed the tsunami of flames.

And he spoke.

“Lævateinn is not the primary part of your attack.”

A cold sweat poured from Richard’s body.

It was not due to the heat of his flames or from all the running around. It was the uncomfortable cold sweat of someone in serious trouble.

The flow of the battle had changed.

Stiyl Magnus would be on the attack.

“You can’t create that kind of effect just by carving runes into a metal sword. That makes it simple. You must have carved runes somewhere other than the sword. It’s probably something along the lines of a combination of eihwaz, berkana, and wunjo. You were not creating the firepower needed to burn your target regardless of what it was made of. You used runes to change your target into a material that would burn away even with the smallest flame.”

Stiyl Magnus and Richard Brave were both rune magicians.

Runes created various phenomena when they were carved into various objects.

Whether you were creating a sea of flames that would swallow up everything or a lightning attack that would rain down from the heavens and blow everything away, you always had to start by carving the runes somewhere.

So where were they carved?

Stiyl could not see how the runes carved into the sword would be able to create the effects he had seen.

In that case, where else could they be?

“Seeing that you were able to carve them into my flame sword and Theodosia’s explosion of flames, the runes must be in some kind of premade ‘stamp’ that you can fire like a bullet. Lævateinn itself shows no sign of using any other runes, so that makes the most sense.”

(I see. So he isn’t a complete fool!!)

Stiyl was dead on.

But Richard still smiled.

“Sorry, but I can’t say that’s right. Lævateinn burns away everything. It uses no clichéd tricks like that.”

Information was a weapon.

Disturbance was a type of strategy.

“If I was spreading around runes that turned my target into a highly flammable material, I’m sure someone like you would have noticed them. Of course, if you were so stupid you wouldn’t even notice a rune carved into your own body, it might work, but not even you are that stupid.”

Once your trick was discovered, you were dead.

On the other hand, if you misread the situation, you would create an opening leading to your death.

But…

Stiyl laughed scornfully.

That sent a bad feeling throughout Richard’s body and then he heard the last thing he wanted to hear.

“You would just need to carve the runes using some kind of invisible ink.”

At that, the battle stopped.

Stiyl and Richard literally stopped moving.

Richard held Lævateinn which supposedly held the ultimate destructive power and he stared at his enemy while the sword’s tip shook like a record needle.

He could no longer easily approach.

Even the slightest mistake could now cause his defeat.

“I noticed a smell like fermenting beer.”

Stiyl had stopped moving and now simply carefully observed the situation without acting triumphant or attacking.

“At first, I thought you were using the flammability of alcohol in some way, but I was wrong. If all of the magical phenomena you are creating are done by carving runes into objects, then everything you have must be there for that purpose. That made this simple. It had to be the ink you were using.”

Their shadows wavered.

This was not due to the magicians’ movements. It was due to the irregular movements of the flames providing the light.

Richard Brave was frozen solid like he was a statue.

“My guess is it’s vitamin B2. A lot of it is found in malt and I believe it reflects a yellow light when it receives strong UV rays in the darkness. Basically, you just have to hide a water gun or spray bottle in your sleeve to carve the runes long distance in the same motion as swinging your arm.”

(Not good.)

Richard had gone from taking a short break to read the situation to having his muscles lock up.

“The runes on Lævateinn read sgkalu. It means ‘the torch that acquired the sun using magic’. That does not refer to a powerful flame. It is a conductor’s baton used to produce the same UV rays as in sunlight in order to make the invisible runes you have spread about visible at the proper time.”

Richard’s Lævateinn had two modes.

The first simply produced flames and was used to set fire to his surroundings.

The second amplified UV rays to make only the needed runes visible, turning the objects they were on into a highly flammable substance.

“…”

Stiyl had seen through it all.

Deep wrinkles covered Richard Brave’s face.

Regardless of the type of magic, you had to come up with a countermeasure once you discovered its trick. That was why a battle between magicians was more a type of battle of wits than it was a physical battle. Stiyl Magnus had already seen through everything Richard had. That meant he would next be using a means of sealing that trick and turning the situation around. One method magicians used was to cover an old trick with a new one and then attack. Richard admitted he had to be on his guard. Next, it was his turn to figure out Stiyl’s trick. He had just determined to use his intelligence to survive when…

(…Wait a second.)

Richard Brave suddenly realized something.

It was a very small thing.

Stiyl had indeed seen through all of Lævateinn’s tricks. Richard’s strategy was completely destroyed.

But…

All the damage Stiyl Magnus had taken was still there.

“…”

Richard looked at the enemy standing before him.

This time, he truly ''looked'' at him.

That magician had been wrapped in flames, had been exposed to great heat, had breathed in smoke, and had been hit by the shockwave of the phreatic explosion he had caused. How much damage had he taken altogether? Even if he had discovered the trick, did he have the physical and mental strength left to come up with and carry out a strategy to turn the situation around?

Even if it was a battle of wits, physical strength was still needed.

Just as one could not use their full strength sleep deprived, there was a bare minimum level of physical strength needed for your brain to function properly.

Did Stiyl have that much strength left?

With all the damage he had taken, he could not have enough strength left to defeat Lævateinn. He just couldn’t.

Even if Lævateinn’s strange method of causing flammability was sealed, the flames it produced normally were nothing to laugh at. Even if the flames were just used to support the vitamin B2 trick, they were surely still enough to cause a human to suffer, to burn them, and even kill them if used right.

In truth, Stiyl’s outer appearance showed just how bad a situation he was in. He was breathing erratically, his skin was injured, and his clothes were covered in mud. Stiyl had truly taken plenty of damage.

And yet…

Even so…

He still stabbed his flame sword in toward Richard Brave.

He blew away the hell of flames that Lævateinn created.

It was as if he were responding to the shouts of a small girl who was about to be trampled.

He was acting to protect Patricia Birdway.

“Damn…you…How can you go on…?” Richard muttered in shock.

No matter how many times he went over it in his head, it did not make sense.

His thoughts alone were not enough to understand it.

“…You don’t understand?” Stiyl Magnus said.

His expression was not one that showed he felt the enemy before him was of greater or even equal strength to himself.

“Then you are not a true enemy of mine.”

His expression held only anger and scorn.

Perhaps some pity was mixed in as well.

“You are only a target.”

Just as he muttered that as if reciting it, the flame magician Stiyl took a large step forward.



Stiyl Magnus knew that his body was near its limit.

Richard had no way of knowing that Stiyl had fought Theodosia Electra before him. Thinking back on it, that had been a heavy blow. Unlike in the battle against Richard, that fight had left damage to the core of his body. Stiyl had been forced into back-to-back fights and had even had to track down Theodosia, a supposed ally, but he smiled. His body had subconsciously ranked the damage that ached within it. In that ranking, the damage from Theodosia was higher than that from Richard. That was why Stiyl smiled. Even he found it strange how happy it made him that Theodosia’s strikes for Patricia’s sake had been heavier than the shallow attacks from that bastard Richard.

“!!”

Stiyl headed forward in what could have been seen as a careless action and Richard swung Lævateinn. Stiyl’s flame sword clashed with it, causing sparks to fly through the air.

“That spell of yours certainly has a unique method of use,” said Stiyl as weapon clashed with weapon. “You said you hate the Anglican Church. In that case, I’m guessing the reason behind all this is the treaty. In truth, it is difficult to call the coloration effect of vitamin B2 a purely magical method. All the magicians you faced in the past were led astray due to that and burned to death in your flames.”

The world was split into the magic side and the science side.

And the two sides had created a treaty to ensure neither side invaded the other. Richard’s Lævateinn spell stood right on the border of that treaty.

“You don’t understand…” 

Hints of hatred entered Richard’s tone.

It was all contained in that small statement.

Stiyl thought.

Richard was not alone. Most modern magicians did not use only the same materials as had been used in ages past for their magic. Even Stiyl used copy paper and lamination to make his rune cards easier to use.

Magic could be activated using only the products found within a convenience store. There was no need to only rely on rare and expensive antiques. One used the most accessible materials to create the most simplified spells in order to wield the most powerful magic. That was the most convenient thing to do for someone who was relying on magic to survive while they fought.

However, that incomprehensible treaty had appeared.

The treaty ensured that science and magic would not encroach on each other’s territories. No clear line had ever been decided on. A line some unknown person had come up with was followed and whether something violated it or not could almost seem arbitrary. A method that was considered valid one day would be considered unusable the next.

Everything was based on the whims of the higher ups.

Most likely, Richard Brave had gotten caught up in all that.

The spell he had spent his long life creating and perfecting and been held down by some unknown person and crushed.

Lævateinn symbolized Richard’s life.

Denying the spell was the same as denying everything about the man.

No one would want that.

If Stiyl one day found himself stripped of every piece of magic he had and was thrown naked out into the world, he had no idea how he would survive.

But…

“So what?” said Stiyl scornfully.

There may have been some validity to what Richard was saying. He had once been a magician who worked on the defensive line over the Atlantic Ocean as a member of the Anglican Church’s 0th Parish, Necessarius. By wielding Lævateinn or even a stronger spell, he might have been able to defeat many enemies and save many people. After Richard annihilated the Anglican Church, it was possible he would save more people than the entire Anglican Church could ever have hoped to. But he had killed Theodosia Electra. He had trampled on Patricia’s heart. Stiyl was not about to overlook that. If Richard wanted what was “right”, he would get it. The flame inside Stiyl’s chest did not need to justify his actions in the name of justice before he carried out those actions.

Sparks flew through that nighttime park.

A light that did not come from the streetlights illuminated their faces.

“!!”

“!!”

There was no sign.

Their eyes met, their breathing synced up, and their intentions were known to each other.

That was all it took.

The true final confrontation began.

Stiyl’s flame sword and Richard’s Lævateinn clashed.

They repelled each other again and again, explosive flames enveloped them, and the battle began anew.

In that instant, Richard Brave felt something.

Unlike the “continuing” battling from before, he now felt as if the stopper of the bath drain had been pulled out. Both enemy and ally alike were being drawn in and swallowed up, whether they liked it or not. They were being carried away toward some definitive finale.

Richard grew afraid.

Stiyl did not.

(…!!)

Richard gritted his teeth and did not randomly charge forward. He fell back as if trying to free himself from a bog and swung Lævateinn once more. He did not use the vitamin B2. That spell would no longer have any effect on Stiyl and using it held the risk of creating an opening. However, he should not have any problems even with that secret technique sealed.

No matter how he thought about it, Stiyl had to have an overwhelmingly greater amount of damage. Both attack and defense started with Richard, so he just had to end it at the best possible time.

Stiyl would surely have realized what he was trying to do, but his body would not be able to keep up.

“Ohhh!!”

Richard shouted from the bottom of his gut and swung Lævateinn up from below like it was a golf club. He was aiming for the dirt in the ground. He tore up the dirt and transformed it into flames using the explosive force of Lævateinn, sending it all shooting toward Stiyl.

That was not enough to make Stiyl Magnus hesitate.

Richard knew that and that was why he charged into the center of the flames himself.

The two swords crossed blades.

Weapon clashed with weapon, sparks flew, and a heavy shock struck Richard’s palms.

After an instantaneous pause, Stiyl’s flame sword and Richard’s Lævateinn turned around and let loose a second strike.

The roar of the air being sliced reverberated throughout the area.

“…”

“…”

Just before Stiyl’s flame sword let loose its very strongest strike, it stopped at an awkward position. The tip of Richard’s Lævateinn was pressed up against Stiyl’s heart.

(I’ve won!!)

In a fight between good people, he might have put his sword down and spared the loser.

But no such rule existed among magicians.

After hearing enough of his opponent’s pleading, he would mercilessly crush him.

Just as Richard’s smile spread from within and reached his face…

“You should have realized it.”

(…?)

“You should have realized what both of us being rune users meant.”

Richard did not understand what Stiyl meant, but he was not one to give in.

He had no need to go along with Stiyl’s attempt to buy time.

After breathing in a quick breath, Richard unhesitatingly sent a command to the blade pressed against Stiyl’s chest.

An explosive flame danced out.

The sea of flames became a tsunami and lit up the night sky.

But it did not assault Stiyl Magnus.

The crimson flames roared as they consumed oxygen and wrapped around Richard Brave’s right arm.

“Wha-…?”

The flames had come from Lævateinn. They had not gone in the direction they should have. Instead, they had headed straight for Richard as if attempting to swallow up their owner. Stiyl stood only a few millimeters from Lævateinn’s tip, but he did not receive a single burn.

Richard felt no pain.

Just after he realized that, the intense pain finally caught up to him.

“Ghgaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!?”

The pain was so great he almost let go of Lævateinn, but he managed to hold on. That showed just how strong Richard’s will was. His hand was starting to lose its proper shape due to the flames, but he kept it on Lævateinn’s handle.

“Just as we can carve the runes for our rune magic, we also have spells in which the runes are dyed.”

The flames continued.

Richard forced his almost completely melted fingers to move in order to finally let go of Lævateinn.

“The representative example of a rune carved on weapons is teiwaz. Its effects are increased when a slain enemy’s blood runs through the grooves of the rune, dying it red.”

Lævateinn fell to the ground.

Richard stepped back on shaking legs as if trying to distance himself from his weapon.

“That is why you should have been more cautious. When a fellow rune user like me read the runes carved into Lævateinn, you should have realized the danger of me ''adding something to those runes that would work against you''.”

“Adding something…?”

Richard held his burnt-black right arm and looked at his weapon that was still sending forth flames as it lay on the ground.

There was no change to the runes carved into the side of the blade.

However, when he looked closer, he noticed some opaque object stuck to its surface. It appeared to be some kind of viscous liquid and the smell of melted plastic floated in the air.

When Richard noticed that smell, he frowned.

“A laminated card…!!”

“It was the card used for the Opila spell. The people clearing spell you used probably used the same rune. Its original meaning was ‘land’. It held the meaning of preventing interference from an unwanted other party in a specified area you own.”

Richard’s expression grew even grimmer when he heard the term Opila.

Stiyl ignored it and continued his final words for the man.

“But the trick to runes is that a single rune can have many different meanings. Opila is used to mean something other than ‘land’. Specifically, ‘inheritance’. It can be used to set up your assets so they will be transferred to someone else.”

Richard’s breathing stopped.

(Shit. So he could do that…)

Richard gritted his teeth because he realized what Stiyl was getting at.

(But how could he come up with that in such a short amount of time…!?)

When he looked again, he could clearly see that a rune card was melted on Lævateinn’s surface. But even though the lamination had melted and the paper card within had turned to ash, the Opila rune stuck to the surface without disappearing. It was attached magically, ignoring the laws of physics. The Opila rune had already become deeply bonded to Lævateinn.

“The Opila rune attached to Lævateinn quickly took effect. Its effect was to distribute the ‘asset’ of the flames to another, but I was the one that carved the rune. Just as the deceased cannot receive the inheritance, the power of the runes could not be distributed to me no matter what. As a result, the Opila flames had to be sent to someone other than me.”

That said, it had really been 50/50 odds.

The spiritual item created from Lævateinn and the Opila rune could also be seen as belonging to Richard. If that had been the result, the flames would have enveloped Stiyl.

“Well, I’m not the Index Librorum Prohibitorum, so this kind of interference and interruption of spells isn’t likely to go so well most of the time. Against some other magician, this likely would not have worked. I could only do it because you are a fellow rune user,” Stiyl said disinterestedly before holding up his flame sword once more. He looked at Richard who had burned his right hand with his own weapon. “Magic is a world of thought, so application and flexibility influences everything. No single spell or spiritual item will allow you to win on every single battlefield.”

That statement displayed Stiyl’s fighting style as one who gained power via intelligence.

The true magician continued to speak as he ridiculed Richard who had lost in a battle of wits.

“Take your prized weapon.”

The flame sword pointed toward Lævateinn which was still producing flames.

Sweat flowed from Richard’s body and Stiyl mercilessly spoke.

“If it really is as great as you claim, then use it to defeat me now. If you truly think you can justify killing Theodosia and trampling on Patricia, then do so here and now.”

Stiyl’s words belied his true intentions.

He only told Richard to do so because he was convinced he could not.

“…!!”

And just as Stiyl had predicted, Richard moved backwards.

He tried to get as far away as possible from the object that had been the sole support for his pride.

Stiyl did not pursue him.

He did not even do that.

A tremendous roar could be heard.

Stiyl Magnus’s flame sword exploded and the shockwave assaulted the night.

He had trusted in Lævateinn so much up until then. Without that support, Richard Brave flew through the air to a humorous extent. After flying a few meters, he bounced off the ground two or three times before hitting the trunk of a tree that had escaped the blaze.

“…Hmph,” said Stiyl amid the silent nighttime park that was still burning in places.

Pain assaulted him all across his body, but he could not rest yet.

(The people clearing field is gone…)

That spell that ensured that normal people did not approach the area had been set up by Richard for fun. Now that the man had lost his power, the remains of the fires would be visible even from afar. Stiyl could have activated a people clearing spell just as Richard had, but…

(We may have overdone things. Setting up a people clearing field over such a large area would be a pain.)

The effects of Stiyl’s runes were activated when he set up the cards. He could do so instantly if it just had to be directly around him, but he would have to set up runes over the entire park if he wanted the effects to cover the entire area.

Even so, he would normally have used runes that would automatically send out the other runes to set them up in a short period of time, but he did not want to waste the extra effort after the intense battles he had gone through.

That meant…

(It would be best to get out of here as quickly as possible.)

He would meet up with Patricia and retrieve the Alaskan rune fragment. Depending on the situation, he might have to bargain with the Anglican Church or the Dawn-Colored Sunlight.

(Where is she?)

Stiyl moved his gaze from Richard and looked around in the darkness. He had succeeded in eliminating the threat of Richard Brave, but the entire incident was not yet resolved. Patricia Birdway had lived a life with no connection to fights to the death and yet she had suddenly been thrown into the middle a battle between expert magicians. She would have to overcome her mental scars with her own strength.

(I could help “remove” some of that using the magical plants or suggestions used in the focusing methods for ceremonies, but I’m hesitant to say that’s the best method.)

Suddenly, he noticed something moving on the edge of his vision.

It was Richard Brave who had been blown away by the shockwave.

“…You naïve fool. As a magician, you should know better than to relax before you have killed your enemy.”

“Make no mistake,” Stiyl said in a stiff voice. “You are going to be transported to London. The inquisition awaits you there and that is a fate worse than death. I’m sure you know that the Anglican Church is at the forefront of witch hunting.”

“I see… But you are still naïve.”

Something was off about Richard’s breathing.

He may have had a broken bone or one of his internal organs may have been injured.

Even so, he smiled.

“And I’m sorry to say, I made sure to have some insurance ready.”

“…”

Stiyl started controlling his breathing once more and then focused on his surroundings.

He quickly understood what Richard meant.

He noticed some presences.

He sensed the presences of a large number of people coming through the gaps between the trees about 100 meters away from the burned away spot he stood in. He also detected many masses of magical power. The people were clearly magicians and they each had different kinds of spiritual items.

“Did the communications official not tell you that an Anglican unit was headed here?”

A group of magicians approached in a horizontal line.

They numbered somewhere between 30 and 40.

Even though they were from the Anglican Church, they were not there on an official mission. Those magicians either agreed with Richard or at least would profit from what he was trying to do, so they too were trying to gain the techniques of the Dvergr.

“They are weaker than me. I headed in first as the strongest of us in order to minimize our losses. But I wonder if you have the strength to deal with all of them? With all the damage you have taken, can you deal with them while also protecting Patricia, wherever she is?”

The group most likely specialized in Norse spells, but other than that, their details were unknown.

Stiyl did not have time to do a detailed analysis of their spells as he had for Richard. And the rules for a one-on-one battle were different than those for a group battle. At the current rate, he would be swallowed up by the group and killed before he could even attack properly.

“They will pay no heed to a loser like me. After all, they are expert magicians who show mercy by killing you. They may even go out of their way to kill me in order to lessen their own burden. As I said, you are naïve. You should not have relaxed your guard until your enemy was dead.”

Stiyl heard a sound like a neon sign being turned off.

In the darkness beyond the trees, lights glowed. It was not just a few. Stiyl saw 30 or 40 pale lights appear one after another and his throat dried up.

The lights were…

(Runes… And that’s the 33 character United Kingdom style!!)

He did not even have time to think after that.

Explosive noises reverberated through the night.

An ice blade approached seeming to crawl across the ground. A flash of lightning approached in a broad arc like a long throw in baseball. A mass of flames approached in a straight line.

Stiyl immediately tried to get behind cover, but then a large number of beams of light shot through the night sky. He somehow managed to avoid a direct hit, but the dirt and rocks at his feet blew up at him. His body was sent flying through the air.

Stiyl managed to brace himself against his landing, rolled along the ground, and stood up once more.

“Richard!!” he cried.

His only response was the continued bombardment.

His vision was cut off by flames and smoke, so he could not tell where his enemies were. However, he doubted those magicians had come to allow Richard to escape. He would probably be blown away along with their target or even taken out first so that he would not tell anyone anything unnecessary.

(Dammit… Is Patricia okay? Where is she?)

But if they wanted the techniques of the Dvergr as Richard did, they would not get Patricia involved. They would not carry out such an indiscriminate attack.

That meant…

(They only came here because they noticed Richard and me fighting. Or maybe Richard sent out some kind of signal when he was defeated. At any rate, they were focused on us and did not notice everything. That means they likely still haven’t found Patricia!!)

He wanted to believe that was the case.

He wanted to determine that she was safe, but he gritted his teeth because he had no proof.

But his opponents would not wait.

Many beams of light glittered in the night sky.

Just as he noticed them, three beams of light mercilessly pierced through Stiyl’s chest.

“Hh!!”

After being pierced, Stiyl disappeared into thin air.

A sound like a curtain beating the air could be heard. Stiyl then reappeared in a different place. He had used a mirage to hide his position.

The enemy’s attacks had no magical tracking ability.

Just like with a normal gun, they had to be aimed by hand.

(No matter how many enemies there are, what I must do remains the same.)

As his shoulders moved up and down with his heavy breathing, Stiyl poured strength into his legs that threatened to tremble due to exhaustion and stared straight ahead.

He checked on the situation and then pulled a new rune card from his pocket. This rune was used for searching rather than attacking. He had no convenient means of finding Patricia’s location, but he could search for the magic power of the Alaskan rune fragment that had fallen next to her.

(I ''will'' bring Patricia Birdway back to the world she came from. I don’t care about the Anglican Church or the Dawn-Colored Sunlight. She isn’t a magician, so she shouldn’t be bound by their rules!!)

Multiple magical attacks assaulted him at the same time.

Flames rose, ice spears rained down, and lightning strikes split the night sky.

Stiyl ran and ran in order to gain some distance. He did not care how unsightly it made him look. He did not need to defeat all of his enemies. Stiyl Magnus only saw one thing he had to do in order to win.

(How long can I last…?)

Facing them all head on would have been reckless.

What was most important was getting Patricia to safety as quickly as possible.

Should he try to meet up with her as soon as possible in order to protect her?

Or should he purposefully distance himself from her in order to draw the enemies away from her?

He did not even need to think about it.

(I don’t think they know where Patricia is, so I can lure them away. Right now, I need to get away from Patricia, giving her safety priority. Patricia has to have taken quite a bit of damage both physically and mentally. I can’t bring her to an even harsher environment!!)

But the number of long distance magical attacks grew.

They seemed to have determined that they might lose track of Stiyl if they let him use his mirages. They were trying to crush him before that could happen.

Many runes glowed.

An overwhelming rain of light covered the night sky.

There was a limit to what he could avoid using a mirage. More importantly, when they were attacking an entire area rather than specifically aiming for him, a mirage that messed up their aim was pointless.

“Kh!!”

He knew he was cornered, but Stiyl had no choice but to use a mirage.

He knew he was heading toward a dead end, but Stiyl saw no other path he could take.

Meanwhile, the points of light covering the sky started raining down.

Suddenly, a pure white beam of light tore through the night.

At first, Stiyl did not know what it was, but an instant later, he realized it had been created by magic. The pure white explosion in a point in the sky caused the countless magical attacks to prematurely detonate in midair. Rather than a defensive wall, it seemed to be a purely offense attack that had sealed the other magicians’ resistance.

It was some kind of magical attack.

But Stiyl had not fired it, Richard had not fired it, and the pursuing unit had not fired it.

(Where did it come from…!?)

Stiyl pulled out a rune card to create a mirage and hid behind a large tree just to be sure, but then he heard an unexpected voice.

“Wow, wow. Things seem to have gotten rather rough out here. I’m impressed you’ve managed to last this long. These reinforcement were only able to pull that off because you drew the enemy out, Stiyl.”

That ridiculous manner of speaking.

That voice of a mother just under 40.

“Theo…dosia?” he said dumbfounded.

He had no idea when or how she had retrieved the girl, but Patricia lay unconscious in her arms. Patricia may have fainted once Stiyl and Richard had left.

Behind Theodosia, he sensed a number of human presences.

They must have been the “reinforcements” who had created the explosion.

As Theodosia cradled Patricia in her arms like a small child, she smiled at Stiyl.

“Hi, Stiyl. Heh heh heh. The strongest character doesn’t show up until the very, very end. Because Lævateinn burns away everything equally, it was simple to pretend to get burned away but actually go into hidin-gbfh!?”

“Sorry about that. I have no idea where that punch came from. It’s a complete mystery to me, but these punches just won’t stop coming. What do you think I should do?”

“O-obh!? Bhehah!! N-not good. I’m holding Patricia in my arms, so I can’t guar-gbh!? I’ve been meaning to tell you, Stiyl. You need to take off your rings before you punch peopl-gbheh!!”

(But who are these reinforcements…?)

Stiyl had been letting his fists fly with a rune card unintentionally crushed within one of them, but then he frowned.

If they were on Theodosia’s side, people from the Anglican HQ were the first to come to mind, but the timing was simply too good for that. In fact, they would never have made it in time.

Then who was it?

A voice spoke up as if to answer Stiyl’s question.

“Heh. It seems you helped my little sister out some,” said a voice similar to Patricia Birdway’s. However, the emotions held in this voice were completely different. “The Anglican Church specializes in witch hunts and the inquisition, so I normally have no obligation to mediate a conflict within it, but I had no choice here. I hate owing anyone anything, so I decided to thank you for what you did for my little sister.”

“The Dawn-Colored Sunlight…!?”

The magic cabal’s boss.

She was Patricia’s sister, so her last name must have been Birdway.

Paying no heed to Stiyl’s shock, the girl held her right hand out toward empty space. A nearby man silently held something out. The motion was so natural that it made it seem as if the man had not been waiting there and had instead appeared at her side that very instant.

Richard’s unit was frantically preparing a second wave after their magical attacks had been suddenly intercepted in midair. Birdway spoke to Stiyl while staring at her enemies from afar.

“I don’t like modern guns, but the flintlock ones are a different matter.”

A smile filled with sadism covered Birdway’s face.

It was an expression one would never see on Patricia’s face.

“But even they can’t stand up to a staff. Just running my finger along it almost makes me drool.”

The sound like a vibrating wind roared out.

Stiyl realized Birdway had begun using magic.

A staff or wand.

That was the symbolic weapon of modern Western Golden-style magic. It would use the element of fire. Its coloration would be red. Its alignment would be right. The quality of the Telesma called forth and used would be that of Michael.

“Do you know what our field of expertise is?”

“As a Golden-style magic cabal, I would assume various ceremonies derived from the acquisition of Telesma.”

Many different types of magic could be referred to as “Golden-style”, but the Dawn-Colored Sunlight was a group that specialized in large techniques that tended to use large-scale spiritual items to create large-scale effects.

“But you don’t have time to construct a temple here and I would have detected it if you had set up the appropriate symbols around the park in order to construct a large-scale ceremonial grounds. Or are you asking me to buy you some time?”

“It’s true we don’t have time for a proper ceremony. Norse spells, especially the ones using weapons with runes carved into them, are used by having each individual create individual pieces of magic. On the other hand, our magic within the Dawn-Colored Sunlight mostly requires the entire group to act in unison to create a single, large-scale spell.”

Birdway held the staff in one hand and stared down its end as if taking general aim.

“It’s merely an issue of speed. There are all sorts of differences between a single person heading up a flight of stairs and a hundred thousand people heading up a flight of stairs at the same time. When a large power is being used by a large number of people, the coordination needed gets a bit tricky. And of course, that has an effect on how quickly each individual spell is completed,” Birdway said disinterestedly. “But you can’t call yourself a magic cabal if you can’t defeat some small fries like this.”

Just as Stiyl was wondering if she was done speaking or not, a great noise exploded out.

He had not understood. The enemy group called in by Richard Brave that should have stood before Stiyl was suddenly thrown into the air by a dome-shaped explosion of light.

The unit desperately tried to counterattack, but Birdway did not let them.

After a few more explosions of light, most of the enemy force had been wiped out. Hiding behind trees or small buildings gained them nothing. Birdway’s magic blew them away along with their cover.

“In a Golden-style ceremony, a temple is created following set laws and the quality, element, and directionality of the power being used is decided on. Once that is done, Hebrew letters are used to provide imaginative power and a temporary guardian that possesses Telesma is prepared. …It’s true that we would not make it in time if we had to construct the temple from the ground up.”

With most of their comrades gone, the remaining enemies ran about in confusion. They were picked off by even more explosions.

Even when they dropped their weapons and stood stock still in shock, Birdway mercilessly blew them away.

“But temples and ceremonial grounds have only become so complex and precise because people want as much power as they can get. It’s the same as sticking a steam engine into something that was originally moved using human power. After all, if god and the angels existed before humans were born, then the constructions and ceremonies created by humans can’t possibly be absolutely necessary.”

They used enormous pieces of magic that were carried out with accurate intuition and measurements made by eye rather than relying on accurate theories and calculations.

To put it bluntly, she looked like a skilled stage actress.

She had cast aside the perfectly prepared script and had instead used her instinct and sharp eye to see what the audience wanted. Based on that, she had continually minutely adjusted her performance on the stage and was now receiving great applause.

“If you take out a lot of the effort used in constructing a temple, you can activate your spells more quickly. Of course, this lowers their power. I’ve arbitrarily named it a summoned explosion, but I don’t have any special spell for it.”

It was no longer a fight.

It was nothing more than a bullying of the weak that was painful to watch.

“And then there’s the whole issue of attack magic. I think it’s too close minded to think of each spell as having only one use. Why even use magic that was only made to be used in some childish fight? That kind of junk should just be left as an opening act. I don’t see anything worth praising about how you prepare all these wonderful pieces of magic for your enemies.”

Her words sent a chill down his spine.

She was the boss who held the Dawn-Colored Sunlight in her hands.

The next thing Stiyl knew, there were no enemies left.

It made Stiyl feel like the life-and-death battles he had been fighting had been nothing more than fist fights between children. On the other hand, what that girl had done had been to tear up the very ground the enemies stood upon.

She was ruthless.

She was unreasonable.

She was overwhelming.

After creating that scene of devastation, Birdway handed her staff to the man waiting beside her and cracked her neck.

She then suddenly looked to the side.

Stiyl had not noticed his approach, but one of Birdway’s subordinates was standing there silently. He held an unconscious magician over his shoulder as if the magician were a piece of luggage.

“I have retrieved the fragment of the Alaskan rune epitaph and Richard Brave, the man behind all this.”

“I see,” replied Birdway.

Stiyl frowned suspiciously.

“…Are you saying you saved him? That doesn’t sound like the Dawn-Colored Sunlight I’ve heard about.”

“Make no mistake.”

The girl grinned at the question.

Her expression seemed to be the incarnation of sadism itself.

“We must give the appropriate punishment to those who bare their fangs toward us. That has always been our way of doing things. So, I’m sorry to say we have no intention of handing this man over to you. He is ours to enjoy.”

A freezing chill ran down Stiyl’s back.

Birdway must have been satisfied with his expression because a slight smile of joy appeared on her face. She then sent a few more explosions across the unmoving battlefield…or rather, bombing site.

After sending explosions across the entire area, she muttered, “Let’s get going.”

She then turned her back on the defeated enemies who she held no more interest in.

No one spoke a word.

No one was even able to prepare any kind of objection.

Birdway had silenced everyone with her overwhelming display of destruction.

“This pointless work really wears me out. I could really go for a popsicle,” she said languidly.