Toaru Majutsu no Index:GT Volume11 Chapter2
Chapter 2: Journey – What’s_That_Adventurer’s_Party?[edit]
Part 1[edit]
The rain poured down.
Everything a step below the hill Kamijou stood on was a mess of dirt and mud. The place was like a giant, empty pool cut out of the ground. Countless figures squirmed within. They appeared to be fleeing from something, but when he tried to get a look at what that something was, Kingsford’s hand covered his eyes.
“That would be Cerberus. ❌ a good sign.”
“Cer-what?”
What was that?
He was pretty sure he had seen that name in RPGs before.
Wasn’t it usually a black doglike thing that used fire? Or was that a hellhound?
For that matter, what was a hellhound?
He was getting distracted.
“It is ❌ enough of a monster to ☠️ if you simply 👁️ it, but it will dull your soul.”
When Kingsford-sensei sounded that serious about something, it was probably a good idea to do as she said.
And what happened if his soul lost its luster?
Regardless, he didn’t want to climb down where a monster like that was lurking. The bottom looked like a muddy bog, so if it did pursue him, he doubted he could escape on foot. And he didn’t want to even think about what happened if it took a big chomp out of his side.
He doubted hell had rules about keeping your dog on a leash.
Christian Rosencreutz chuckled cruelly.
“It is a three-headed demon dog. What, you aren’t going to tame it by feeding it lumps of dirt?”
“With all this mud around, I do ❌ 💭 that would have much of an effect. It will have already 🍴en plenty.”
“?”
Kamijou didn’t understand.
Was that conversation based on some myth or another?
That aside, what were they going to do?
A dog the size of a light car was terrifying.
Anna Kingsford pointed at a stone pillar(?) nearby.
It had a small hole at around hip height.
“Looks like we need a 🗝️ to operate the draw🌉.”
“Whoa!?”
It was so big Kamijou hadn’t noticed.
The massive structure the size of a broadcast tower was apparently a stone bridge with chains that could lower it by 90 degrees.
Were you supposed to insert something into the small pillar to work it?
“But what key?”
“It appears the harpy has it. I see it glittering in that 🐦’s 🪺.”
Did Kingsford mean that thing cawing up there? It looked kind of like a girl.
And sure enough, there was the key.
But it was up in the tree. And the tree trunk looked eerily like a human silhouette. But this wasn’t the same as the lewd tree crotch that made the little kids at the neighborhood park (and Aogami Pierce) laugh so hard.
The key was too far up to reach from the ground.
Could Kingsford or Rosencreutz just fly up and nab it?
“I can climb up onto your shoulders.”
“That’s an awfully grounded idea.”
“There is ❌ need to use secret tricks when the standard solution works just as well. Okay, I need you to crouch down.”
The spiky-haired boy went ahead and obeyed.
He should have thought this through some more.
“Here goes.”
She approached from behind him.
A soft weight pushed in at the back of his head and at his cheeks.
Were those her thighs squeezing his head?
Was that also her thighs resting on his shoulders? Or was that actually part of her butt?
And what part of her anatomy was that soft sensation he felt on the back of his neck!? Teach me, sensei!!
“That should do it. You can stand up now. Is something wrong?”
“…I think the pareo has the opposite effect here.”
“?”
He had thought a pareo was like a safety device meant to cover up the body, but here it created the illusion that he was sticking his head up this soft young woman’s skirt. But it was only an illusion, okay?
He gathered strength in his knees and slowly stood up.
The pressure from the sides increased.
“Oh, dear. Ah ha ha. Doing things I am ❌ accustomed to is kind of nerve wracking. But this should work.”
“Bwgohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!”
“Hm? Why the 💥ive roar?”
Yeah, this was a bad idea. Letting a clueless swimsuit woman ride on your shoulders was a terrible idea!!
But for now, they had to accomplish what they set out to do.
“➡️, ➡️.” “A little further ⬅️.” “➡️ again.” Kamijou kept tottering side to side to fulfill Kingsford’s requests.
When he tried to look up to see the harpy nest for himself, he was greatly distracted by the pareo falling over his face. The sweet young woman scent was powerful.
He decided to just let Kingsford guide him.
“Got it. This 🗝️ will let us continue on.”
“G-glad to 👂 it…”
Her way of speaking was contagious.
His brain was breaking down.
The shock was like unwittingly drinking a super-sweet chain coffee from a cafe that gathered customers with its whipped cream covered donuts and pancakes more than the coffee itself.
Even so.
The shoulder ride that felt like having his skull pried open and having sugar dumped directly inside was finally ov-
“Wait, do ❌ move.”
“Why!?”
“The harpy noticed us. I will deal with her, so do ❌ move from there.”
“Can’t you do that after I lower you to the ground, Sensei!?”
She gave his face a squeeze.
A hard squeeze.
The glasses woman was probably only entering combat mode, but this went beyond a simple thigh-based reward.
His head didn’t feel right.
It seemed to be swelling, but it wasn’t quite the same as suffocating.
Could she be constricting his carotid artery rather than his windpipe?
“I need to convert to the reverse tree. Gevurah corresponds to Akzeriyyuth. The reverse of justice is cruelty. The element is 🔥. The wicked name that rules Sphere 5i is Golohab. You who are bound by the name and the number, obey my right 🖕 and display your power!!”
A tremor shook the place.
Almost like an artillery blast. Whatever Kingsford had done, a bright beam of light shot out and her upper body was knocked back as if by recoil.
It was a fairly large action made while still gripping Kamijou’s neck between her thighs.
The spiky-haired boy recalled a life hack for using a door’s hinge to crack a tough walnut.
Wait! But if the fulcrum is my neck, or my carotid artery really, then-
“Oh, dear???”
It happened far too easily.
The spiky-haired boy was rendered unconscious much like some kind of judo chokehold.
Part 2[edit]
What were they doing again?
Kamijou Touma’s mind was too woozy to remember.
Regardless, he opened his eyes.
What he saw looked strange. Was he lying down? He felt something soft below his head. Someone was peering down at him, but he couldn’t tell who it was due to the large pair of breasts blocking his view of their lower face.
The glasses jogged his memory.
It was her.
“Whoa!?”
He was resting on Kingsford-sensei’s lap pillow.
And since she was wearing a swimsuit, it was a bare lap pillow.
“Oh? You could have 💤ed longer, you know?”
The glasses woman placed a hand over her mouth and laughed elegantly. He decided he needed to get up before he developed any further problems with his heart rate. Why did he feel like he was losing years from his life when he was already dead?
Surprisingly, Rosencreutz did not seem exasperated.
He stroked his beard in his hand and commented on the situation.
“Hm. It would seem sleeping in hell does not eternally bind you here.”
“Old man, do you have to take this so seriously?”
“Hm, hm. You should count yourself lucky that sleeping does not eternally trap you in a dream within a dream within a dream…to the point you lose track of how many dreams deep you are.”
“Wait, what? Are you telling me even a woman’s thighs could be a devious trap in hell!?”
Kamijou’s party continued trekking through hell while taking the occasional short break.
They traveled through a variety of different hells, which mostly seemed to be fire based.
They had managed to descend a few levels thanks to Kingsford’s guidance.
“Wow…”
Kamijou hadn’t actually been counting what level of hell they were on, but in this hell, tons of embers were pouring down on them like a blizzard. The embers were especially noticeable in the darkness and they continued burning without extinguishing even after falling onto the sand. He knew nothing good would come from having those land on his skin. He doubted any kind of unexpected romance would be starting here. The embers reminded him a lot of white phosphorous or napalm.
The wind changed and the fiery snow blew this way.
Kamijou froze in place.
What was he supposed to do?
There were no gaps in that. Was he supposed to play a real-life bullet hell game!?
“Bwah, bwah, bwah!? Ah, no, it’s burning, it’s on fire, gya, gya, gya, gya, this old man’s beard is burning, bwah, bwah, bwah, bwah!?”
Kamijou had hoped there was some kind of loophole or safe zone hidden away in this general area-of-effect attack, but that hope was dashed when he saw the person rolling on the ground and burning. The distribution was just too even. Unlike in a shmup, there were no gaps at all. And once one of those embers touched your skin, it apparently kept on burning. The fact that water was immune to fire and the human body was 60-70% water didn’t seem to matter. Kamijou Touma learned the all-too-unpleasant fact that humans really did dance when they were burned alive.
Oh, right.
He had forgotten.
Tears formed in Kamijou’s eyes. The dead were horrifically punished after descending into hell and, since they were already dead, they wouldn’t die even if they were burned and stabbed in hell! Even if the total damage was well past a fatal level and even if it was complete overkill, their lives wouldn’t shut down at the moment of death, in a way making this even worse than the world of the living!
“Phew.”
Kamijou heard a sweet sigh.
It came from the teacher-like glasses woman.
Anna Kingsford untied the pareo she wore around her hips and spread it out overhead. She provided an umbrella not for herself but for Kamijou walking next to her. As if to protect just the spiky-haired boy from an unexpected rain shower.
Apparently she considered her witchy hat to be protection enough.
“You will be safe now. I guarantee it as an expert. I will ❌ allow your soul to be lost until you have been safely returned to the 🌍 of the living.”
A sweet scent wafted over to Kamijou.
It may have been the scent of her sweat.
When she was this close, he couldn’t ignore the warmth of her shoulder against his even if he wanted to. Her newly uncovered thighs were dazzlingly bright and his attempt to not look at them hurt his neck.
“?”
The oblivious woman tilted her head.
At extreme close range.
…Hold on, Kamijou panicked. Could it be that the sexy young woman was rapidly becoming his greatest obstacle in this journey through hell? She rattled his adolescence in a different way from the Bologna Succubus who walked around in her underwear or Aradia who did the same in a star-shaped bikini. Anna Kingsford wore something like a near-future racing swimsuit, so she didn’t show off all that much skin.
But.
Did she have to act so clueless and unguarded? This probably was necessary for them to pass through the fiery snow and continue on their journey, but the pareo umbrella made him feel like he was sticking his head up an ordinarily meek glasses woman’s long skirt. His worldly thoughts meter was on the rise and he already knew hell would react and make those thoughts visible!!!
“Eh heh. I’m burning. Eh heh heh. Now that I’ve lost all feeling, this old man is kind of enjoying it.”
Half of Rosencreutz’s surface area was now pockmarked with burns several centimeters in diameter, a sight that helped recover Kamijou’s SAN a bit.
If he made Kingsford go “eek, pervert!” and shove him out from under the umbrella, he would end up with that fiery snow all over him too. He would end up traveling beyond the realm of pain and start twitching on the ground.
(Come to think of it.)
Kamijou started to reach his right hand out from under the umbrella to touch an ember.
“Kh.”
But he pulled back.
Was that really safe?
He wanted to test if he still had Imagine Breaker, but surely there was a safer way.
If he was wrong, he would end up seeing his own finger bone.
Kingsford, meanwhile, decided to completely ignore her fellow expert, Rosencreutz.
Her kindness must have been limited to amateurs.
The traveler with no sympathy for the scorched first-rate pro began to speak.
“Sigh. This area of hell is still partway between the medium and 🌶️ levels. To be blunt, Westcott, Mathers, and my other students saw much worse when they made a mistake.”
“…”
What was education like in the late 19th century?
Kamijou had trouble imagining it. He lived in an age when no one was even asked to stand out in the hall holding buckets, so this was beyond anything he could imagine. And was the Mathers she mentioned the Mathers he had seen in London? Had that ultimate genius actually cried after being beaten up by his teacher? What in the world had he done to deserve that?
Rosencreutz (who was lying burnt at their feet) joined the conversation.
“Pant, wheeze. B-by the way, a little later in the early 20th century, the famous Crowley had this to say to his students: ‘You made a mistake? Then slash your arm with a razor to leave a permanent scar. That pain will teach you your mind is capable of controlling you.’ ”
“Who let a guy like that reign at the top of Academy City?”
Had Aleister been that strict? Then again, he did seem like the type who would writhe on the floor in agony when someone dug up a story of his past.
But apparently Anna Kingsford was from the era before even that.
She looked like a gentle and smiling glasses woman, but maybe Kamijou needed to focus a little more on what was hidden deep inside?
Rosencreutz was still smoldering, but by the time he returned unsteadily to his feet, his burns had all vanished.
He really was an expert.
The ability to turn horrific burns like that into a joke was anything but normal.
“But, well, you know.”
“Hm?”
“You know. If Anna Kingsford were only a little nicer, this old man would see her as a certain ideal.”
“She seems nice enough to me.”
“Does she now? Then are you saying you see her as the ideal you-know-what, boy? I envy you.”
The ideal what?
Did he know what?
Kamijou Touma felt a cold sweat dripping down his back.
Oh, no.
He shouldn’t have let himself think it. But now that the thought was in his mind, it wouldn’t leave.
It was the worst possible thought.
Yes.
Wasn’t Anna Kingsford a lot like the ideal dorm manager?
He knew he shouldn’t think it, but he couldn’t escape the image he had conjured into his mind.
The ideal.
She was a generally clueless and gentle woman, but she was stylish, sexy, older than him, could do both her job and housework, and she would accept anything he might do, but she also loved his attention as the sweet and lovely school dorm manager. That ideal was so powerful he couldn’t shake it. Don’t give in. Harness your mental fortitude. Weren’t you going to crawl out of hell and wipe away Alice Anotherbible’s tears back in the world of the living? C’mon, Kamijou Touma, you’re better than this. Just remember that crying face waiting for you! You need to return. Don’t think about if it’s possible with ordinary methods. You have two extraordinary monsters with you. Didn’t you decide to escape from this hell with Kingsford’s help and Rosencreutz’s power!? This isn’t about a dorm manager!!
…But wait. As well guarded as her front is, the back of that racing swimsuit is wide open, leaving a lot of exposed skin. Isn’t it a lot like a naked apron? No!! Don’t let her swimsuit distract you. Refocus your mind. This is only the starting point. There has to be more to this. This place is called hell, so there’s bound to be some hellish obstacles here. So stay focused! Shut down your imagination! Keep that image out of your head!! But it’s true a dorm manager would be at a city pool, not a midsummer beach. And she would wear a racing swimsuit instead of a flashy bikini. Wait!! I don’t need to pursue a dorm manager all the way to hell when there are plenty of them back on earth!! Nwoahhhhhh!!! Good morning, Kamijou-san. Hee hee. You have some bedhead. My, my, did you only just get up? What a naughty boy you are. Oh, by the way, Kamijou-san, do you have some free time? I can’t figure out how to hook up my TV and digital recorder. Oh, this? I made too much nikujaga, so I thought I would share some with you☆
The world warped around Kamijou.
He paled. He had noticed the change.
This was bad.
Very, very bad.
Nothing could be worse right now! This wasn’t just the surface-level stuff like boobs or a butt. This was the very core of what made Kamijou Kamijou. He had to admit it. If a young woman gave him an icy look and rejected this softer part inside him, he really would cry. The boy’s soul was wracked with the fear of a lack of acceptance and understanding. No, wait! Anything I say now will only hurt me. If they find out about this, they can directly attack my innermost desires!!!
“S-stop this, hell!! Don’t react now of all times. Ah, ah, ah, nooo. Why does hell have to be so merciless? Why does my dorm manager dream have to appear like this? Damn, the very center of my heart is blooming before my eyes! Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!”
Hell shined bright.
He was dead.
Kamijou flailed his right hand at the empty air, but hell refused to disappear. No matter what. Unable to bear it, the teenager covered his face with his hands. Couldn’t someone silently kill him right this instant? Without speaking a word?
But he waited and waited without hearing any comments from Kingsford or Rosencreutz.
He puzzled over this in the darkness of his hands.
…Were they too disturbed?
…Had his open display of worldly desire left them speechless?
But something still felt off. There was a tension in the air. A serious tension. He didn’t get the sense they were going to criticize his desires. Nervously, he moved his hands from his face and viewed the outer world through the gap.
“What…is that?”
This wasn’t at all what he had expected.
He saw some kind of city.
However, it wasn’t a modern city of concrete skyscrapers and asphalt streets. This was something older – much older – with nothing but stone-paved roads and pointy roofs he could imagine an RPG king living below.
So was this a fantasy world?
No.
“I see. This imagery comes from him. Hell is designed to reveal each individual’s sins and provide an appropriate punishment. So even an expert – ❌, especially an expert – will have his greedy and defiled soul revealed before us.”
Anna Kingsford still had her back to them. As if protecting them from the scene spread out before their eyes.
Yes, them.
It wasn’t just Kamijou this time. She was protecting the other one as well.
Christian Rosencreutz.
“…”
His head was lowered.
He was averting his eyes.
CRC was never slow to provide verbal abuse or mockery, but now he said nothing.
(Is that monster afraid?)
“1602, the Holy Roman Empire, the University of Tübingen. That would be modern day 🇩🇪. Back then, you were ❌ more than a 15-year-old boy who was still learning theology while also engrossing yourself in the works of John Dee, the queen’s 🧙♂️.”
Had that monster really been 15 years old once?
And a student?
Wait, wasn’t 15 the same age as Kamijou?
It should have been obvious, but Kamijou found that obvious fact surprising. He had more or less imagined that Rosencreutz had been born an expert in magic who destroyed the world as he pleased while shouting about how he was an old man.
But that wasn’t the case.
“This is your origin, CRC. The center point of your sin and your distortion upon the 🌍. …This is why Anna Sprengel chose the path of 🪄, why the Golden cabal was born, why Westcott, Mathers, and my other students strayed in pursuit of their own desires, why the 👿 lord known as Aleister Crowley was awoken within the world’s greatest cabal and destroyed it all, and why some unknown person created Alice Anotherbible without Crowley noticing.”
Aleister.
And Alice.
Kamijou leaned forward at the mention of those familiar names.
Yes, this wasn’t something from a game or an isekai fantasy story. As large as the scale was and as absurdly unrealistic as it might sound, this story was directly connected to the real world.
This was a story Kamijou Touma needed to know.
“So he was 15 back in 1602? But what happened there?”
“The beginning happened.”
Anna Kingsford’s voice was stiff as she responded without turning back.
“The beginning of it all. The very moment that the Rosicrucian cabal, the world’s most mysterious 🪄 cabal, came to be.”
Part 3[edit]
A light clanking sound continued endlessly.
It was a lot like ancient gears fitting together. But this lacked the precision of a clock. It moved sometimes fast and sometimes slow. This was an old machine supported by the tolerance of the viewers, from a time when the slight margin of error caused by the hand crank was thought to give it “flavor”.
This was a film projector.
In a flat world confined to a rectangle, something danced in grainy black and white. It was a boy walking across undulating dunes of scorching sand, a young man gathering students from across Europe, and an old man with a bald head and long beard writing silently at a desk.
“Christian Rosencreutz,” said Kingsford as she viewed the images. “He abandoned a privileged life to travel east where the great professors living in secret in the depths of the desert granted him wisdom, which he chose to distribute freely throughout his homeland of Europe after managing to bring it back with him. But the foolish European educated class – that is the ignorant religious leaders who ruled the Dark Ages that preceded the Renaissance – rejected his wisdom and silenced him. Eventually, he established the House of the Holy Spirit where he could learn along with the few students who shared his vision. He fought against vested interests while healing small human illnesses, correcting the great distortion of the world, and leading humanity as a whole toward goodness. He was a truly benevolent expert.”
“…”
Much like a children’s picture book, it was all so abstract and simple, but it didn’t sound anything like the red-clad young man standing silently next to Kamijou now.
Kamijou felt more like he was viewing images of a handsome prince charming.
That is, it was all so perfect it felt flimsy.
This didn’t feel like a living human being.
“But all of that was an illusion.”
Anna Kingsford left no room for doubt.
At the same time, the flimsy story projected by the projector shattered like glass. With a single statement, the thick stone wall acting as the white screen crumbled away, revealing a hallway on the other side.
The expert spoke while staring down that.
“The mysterious Rosicrucian cabal was first revealed to the 🌍 by a booklet, which only presented him with the mysterious initials CRC. The full name of Christian Rosencreutz did ❌ appear until much later. An individual by that name did ❌ yet exist, so it is more accurate to say Rosicrucianism was created by the person who ✍️ that booklet.”
Kamijou Touma had not been present when Alice took revenge on CRC, but he had been told that the mysterious Rosicrucian cabal didn’t actually exist. Really, he had just suddenly discovered the smart people like Othinus and Anna Sprengel were talking based on that assumption, so he had found it difficult to keep up.
He had also learned that the person named Christian Rosencreutz had been invented.
Kamijou wasn’t going to doubt the man’s power.
It didn’t matter to him if someone dressed up as the god or demon of their choice to draw on that figure’s abilities to reach out a helping hand to whoever they had decided to save. It didn’t matter to him if they didn’t actually throw out their magic name to become a Magic God. That was the foundation of the Transcendents like Aradia and the Bologna Succubus. That had also become the driving force for Anna Sprengel who monopolized so much power yet always fell short of Kingsford and who had pushed past all that to face Alice Anotherbible’s distortion and prevent the destruction of the world.
“…Johann…”
Kamijou heard a voice from down the hallway.
It belonged to a boy his own age. He doubted the boy was speaking Japanese, yet he could understand it even though he couldn’t even speak English well.
“Johann.”
It was a name.
The man next to him.
The silver-haired young man in red hadn’t said anything for a while now. His constant insults had vanished. Like he sat in the defendant’s seat in court. Was this what happened to anyone who was accused?
A step.
Kingsford took a step into the hallway beyond the screen as she spoke calmly.
“The legend of Rosencreutz is said to have begun in 1378, but the real 📅 is much later. It truly began in 1602. It happened here at the University of Tübingen, in what is now known as 🇩🇪. …It happened in a tiny room at one corner of that massive educational institution where people were free to learn the natural sciences thanks to the Renaissance but it also taught theology, in which people learned how to read the Bible in greater detail. It all began as nothing more than a single 💧 being added to the 🌍.”
So at this point, it didn’t matter if it was real or fake. There was something else they had to pursue further.
The false information was intentionally distributed.
What had someone hoped to accomplish by creating the fictional image of CRC – Christian Rosencreutz – as if he were a real person?
What were his intentions and goals?
Kamijou had already been told he was still only 15 at the time. Kamijou didn’t know anything about the educational environment of 17th century Germany, but he could guess it wasn’t something just anyone was allowed to attend.
The University of Tübingen allowed humans to learn about god in detail.
Including his mysteries.
This somewhat reminded Kamijou of Academy City, which looked like a peaceful city of children but actually had massive gears turning below the surface. However, this seemed even more blatant. Instead of enacting some kind of plan in secret, no effort was put into disguising the truth and all effort was dedicated to a single grand objective.
Rosicrucianism had caused so much trouble.
It had created all the foundational theory that had formed the basis for the Golden cabal.
There had to be something there.
There just had to.
So Kamijou prepared himself for the worst. He felt his heart pounding even though he wasn’t sure he really had a heart anymore.
They arrived at the end of the hallway.
There was a small door there.
It was a thick oak door in a stone wall, yet it had none of the grandeur of the door to a cathedral or to the audience chamber in the demon lord’s castle. It was smaller, more grounded, and something even a high school boy like Kamijou could picture.
The actual parts used were different, but the overall scene brought a term to Kamijou’s mind.
(A clubroom?)
No, it couldn’t be.
Kingsford threw open the oak door without knocking.
Johann Valentin Andreae.
His true form was finally revealed.
Voices flooded out from the small room.
“Johann, are you planning another prank? You only just got reprimanded for that phony newspaper saying Bacon and Shakespeare are one and the same. …What are you plotting now, writing up some weird booklet?”
“You had better be ready, Christoph, because this one’s a doozy! Once this young man finishes writing this, I’ll finally get back at those professors lording it over us from their lecterns. This young man calls it the Great Rosencreutz Operation!!”
Part 4[edit]
A prank.
Those professors.
Operation.
“………………………………………………………………………………………………Umm?”
Kamijou had heard it himself, but he still couldn’t believe it.
What was with this light mood?
Those cheerful voices sounded like two children digging a pitfall in a field somewhere.
“Johann Valentin Andreae.”
Anna Kingsford sighed again.
In exasperation.
“It all began with him. And ❌ everything that changes the 🌍 begins as some grand strategy or plan.”
The two boys had no idea Kamijou’s party was observing them.
In fact, they were upset about being crammed into such a small room.
“Besides, the Dark Ages are over. Over! No longer will our Germanic people be seen as the enemy of European culture by the fools who refuse to think for themselves. We live in a new era where everyone is familiar with the concept of the Renaissance! Instead of waiting for a drop of miracle to trickle down to our parched lips, we can mix our own potions and publish our own newspapers! Paintings have depth thanks to perspective and there are naked statues aplenty! The people and the cities have received the visual blessings of the Renaissance, so it’s wrong to force everyone to think of god in the one ‘accepted’ view.”
“Johann.”
“This young man is not arguing against there being just one god. I’m not interested in the complicated arguments over what exactly the Greek Zeus or Roman Venus were or over whether the great Caesar and Aristotle went to heaven or hell because they died without being baptized. Those kinds of details aren’t for the young. I’m just saying each individual theologian should have their own stance on how they think about and view the one god. This is Tübingen! We’re paying an arm and a leg in tuition to receive an education in that subject!! So what is this!? The professors think they’re better than us just because they’ve lived longer. They think the world’s reformation ended with criticizing the old church for its indulgences and all that. Give those educated idiots enough free time and they’ll stir up trouble by writing a book criticizing innocent witches or something. Like our country’s greatest author of nonsense: Heinrich Kramer! There are still so many real problems to deal with. The ideal is to allow free debate of all possibilities and then collect the best of them and link them together into an even better theory, right? This is a university, so that’s what we should all be collaborating on. But how are we supposed to debate anything when simple thinking is deemed ‘sinful’!? What’s even the point of attending university then!? You might as well go to a tiny rural church and listen to the ancient priest’s sermons!!”
“Johann, you’re rambling. And this is why everyone says you’re dangerous. You’ll be burned as a witch eventually, I swear.”
“But it’s all true. The adults just don’t like it when you question them, so they try to silence anyone who’s too smart for them. Right?”
“Don’t drag me into this. Your grandfather is weeping.”
“You sound just like the teachers, Christoph. It’s true my grandfather is famous in the field of theology, but that’s all anyone knows about him. Just so you know, he’s far more active and playful than me back home. If he was as strict and serious as everyone thinks he is, he wouldn’t have fathered 18 children, now would he?”
“No comment. Geez, there’s nothing like an insider’s view, huh? So what’s this Rosen thing? What does all this have to do with that flimsy booklet? I don’t want to be in the dark when your trouble hits the university, so tell me how this prank works. I promise I won’t tell anyone.”
“This young man is glad you asked!!”
Johann Valentin Andreae energetically swung his hands around and spoke theatrically loud.
“Rosen…creutz!! The rose and the cross. Heh heh. A mysterious combination like that is sure to grab everyone’s attention, don’t you think!?”
“Is it? But there’s a trick, right? Tell me.”
“Heh heh. My erudite and impoverished friend Christoph Besold. Are you familiar with the Andreae house crest?”
“So that’s it, you troublemaker.”
“Yes, it is four red roses and a diagonal white cross. Everyone will be worshiping this young man!”
It wasn’t just Kamijou’s modern viewpoint.
Johann’s friend from the University of Tübingen was also exasperated.
In the distant illusion, Johann waved the booklet between his fingers.
“Rosencreutz. The two of us will set this up as a legendary magic cabal. This young man would like the help of your unnecessarily knowledgeable mind! The Chemical Wedding. It’s the perfect name for the current era. Everyone is familiar with flasks and beakers now, so even the general public will be interested! Because the Renaissance changed the world a short while ago!!”
“To make it a legend, you’ll have to cover a long period of time.”
“This young man is well aware. What if we say it was established 200 years ago? A mysterious organization acted from the shadows to smash the petrified knowledge of the church and end the mysterious Dark Ages while they spread the light of the Renaissance across the current age, but this collection of true wise men was not satisfied with just that. They are a cabal capable of changing the world. A good lie is not a perfectly flawless myth. To give it verisimilitude, it must feel lived in and match the changing of the world around us all. The people have grown bored of the Renaissance. They seek the next great change!! See, see!? The general public will believe it in a heartbeat!”
Bored of the Renaissance.
The changing of the world.
Like when high-speed flat-rate internet swept across the world, or when online shopping and smartphones changed how people lived their lives. Had Johann taken advantage of the idea that a single good idea could change everything?
In an age of plenty, people were not necessarily satisfied.
Those people would have their own complaints.
“This young man will release these all-consuming omnivorous fish into the waters of public opinion,” said Johann with a grin and the thin booklet in hand. “This young man hasn’t decided how long yet, but probably at least 2 years. Just the one booklet will seem too sudden, so we need to set the stage by first leaking a few fragments of supposed documents. Of course, if it looks like the truth is coming out early, we can make our move before it all falls apart.”
“You’re going to hide that you faked it all for no good reason for two whole years? If nothing else, this is a great example of the terrifying focus of someone with too much time on their hands.”
“Ideologies spread in no time. And if the topic is to spread among the educated, maybe we should aim for the salons for playwrights or composers? Those people are always searching for mystical material, be it Greek or Roman or even the Germanic Valkyries or Egyptian Isis and Nephthys. They’ll leap at a mysterious world-spanning cabal that no one’s ever heard of. If we add in a king or queen or princess, we’ll be reeling them in like salmon or anchovies.”
“I’m impressed, Johann. Just how many enemies are you planning to make? Trying to set a new world record for how much trouble you can cause with words alone?”
“No one in the world can put a lid on the truth for their own convenience. This might only be a thin handmade booklet right now, but once plenty of copies have spread around and people are whispering of its existence, even the most absurd story starts to sound a lot more real. We can fake multiple sources all on our own. That way it will grow to the point that not even those professors can ignore it. They look all dignified now, but just you wait until they’re onboard with it too.”
“Well, those old men have all learned the history of what happened to the hardheaded Christians who refused to get onboard with the Renaissance when it showed up.”
“This young man just know they’ll claim to have known all about it before the general public found out or even claim to secretly be a member. …Heh heh. After all, it’s the rose and the cross. Those proud adults will all be smugly confessing their association with a secret organization that reveres the house crest of the very same Johann Valentin Andreae they look down upon. They will claim to have sworn allegiance to this young man!!”
“Bff!? …S-sorry. Unlike you, I have this thing called common sense. I am extremely concerned about the trouble I see brewing in the future. I certainly wasn’t laughing.”
“Don’t try and hide it. Ah ha ha ha!! Those narcissistic teachers act like they’re omniscient despite being as human as the rest of us, so this young man can’t wait to have them bowing their heads to me with looks of utter solemnity! Oh, I already can’t wait until the day we can reveal the truth!!!”
It could hardly be worse.
The corners of Kamijou’s mouth were more than a little stiff.
Was this really acceptable?
Maybe it didn’t matter if it was nor not.
The hidden truth of Johann Valentin Andreae may have been even worse than Aleister Crowley’s.
“Really…?” said Kamijou without thinking.
Rosencreutz(?) refused to turn his way. For a while now, he had been avoiding Kamijou’s eye.
This was the unvarnished truth.
It may have hurt him.
Kamijou took a deep breath and kept a straight face.
“Are you stupid? No one asked you to, but you went right on ahead and created your own original myth with yourself as the leader? I’ve heard most people write some embarrassing things in their youth, but this is ridiculous. Could you not look at yourself objectively and see why you were an outcast?”
“Salt in the wound!? And this old man means the sea salt with pieces bigger than sesame seeds!?”
Kamijou spoke plainly.
This was his chance.
He was so glad he had lived an honest life. He could now take revenge and give this man his just deserts.
“Heh heh heh. Don’t try to pretend you don’t deserve it, Rosencreutz. You did your best to torment me when Kingsford’s giant boobs and butt appeared. That ended peacefully because Kingsford is a wonderful person, but I was this close to receiving a blow powered by an expert’s arm strength, sending my head spinning all the way around. Heh heh, ha ha ha ha! At the hand of Kingsford, the owner of the giant boobs and butt!!”
“Shut up, be quiet, take this: racing swimsuit woman armpiiiiiiit!!!”
That was a curse.
CRC’s cry dragged out the boy’s adolescence.
And hell reacted.
The earth split apart and something emerged. It had no head, arms, or anything below the hips. It looked so much like an indecent silicone doll made with only the necessary parts, but it was enormous. It rivaled a high-voltage transmission tower in size. And hell had even included the racing swimsuit. Was hell particular about such things?
Kamijou Touma seriously screamed as he looked up at the giant something towering above him.
“Ahhhhhh, now that is a niche thing. Boobs and butts are mainstream, but I’d have a hard time calling this sexy. But…if it belongs to a young woman…maybe? If you see it as the one small chink in the young woman’s perfect armor, then maybe an armpit is pretty nice after all!?”
“…”
A short distance away, Anna Kingsford placed a hand on her cheek and remained absolutely silent, but that wasn’t the problem right now.
The fake booklet.
Was that the initial motive?
After spreading the lie everywhere and waiting for enough people to believe it, he would announce it was all a lie to pull the ladder out from under them. And once they were all trapped up on the roof, he could point and laugh at them.
That was all.
The reveal wouldn’t do much damage to Johann and his friend as they stewed inside their little room, but the same could not be said of the important scholars.
This was mischievousness taken to an extreme.
But.
“?”
Kamijou couldn’t believe what he had seen, but then something occurred to him.
Something didn’t add up.
This was something he could only notice because he was looking back from the present time and already knew all the answers.
He gave voice to his confusion.
“But wait… Rosicrucianism was all a lie and it all came to an end when Johann confessed to his enormous prank once the time came, right? Then why do people in later times believe that Rosicrucianism and Rosencreutz were real? Like Anna Sprengel who claimed to be an important figure in the Rosicrucian cabal. Hell, you even said Rosicrucianism is a foundational part of the Golden cabal.”
“It did ❌ come to an end.”
Kingsford’s answer was a simple one.
Generally speaking, that expert did not make mistakes.
“Johann Valentin Andreae abandoned his plan ❌finished.”
That would explain it.
But that called into question the earlier assumptions.
“Johann knew it was all a lie from the beginning, right?”
“🎯.”
“And his prank was meaningless if he didn’t tell everyone it was a lie, right?”
“🎯.”
…Then why did he abandon it unfinished? For hundreds of years, it would seem.
For Johann, the prank lost all meaning if he abandoned it unfinished. Had he lost interest in it? After resisting for two whole years waiting for it to charge up, had he abandoned it all without actually pulling the trigger?
Or.
Could it be…?
“Johann’s greatest error was ❌ accounting for his own perfectionism. While he was a 15-year-old prankster, he was also a student at the University of Tübingen and through his own self-study he had accumulated a great wealth of knowledge in many subjects including theology, alchemy, and astrology. ❌. He lived in the 1600s, the 17th century. The Dark Ages had already ended, a reformation had occurred in a massive system, and as long as they knew Latin, anyone could broaden their horizons past ✝️ and learn about Greek mythology, Egyptian mythology, and so many other aspects of the occult.”
“…”
“❌ wanting his prank to be discovered early, he was very careful as he built up his Rosicrucian mythology from the ground up. ❌ matter how detailed a story is, it can still all fall apart if the author says the fraternity does ❌ exist. …But Johann’s greatest error was letting his great knowledge and perfectionism drive him to create such an intricate story that ❌ one saw it as a mere story.”
The fraternity bearing the crest of Johann’s family was spoken of in the utmost seriousness and even the university professors had bragged about having long known of it or even of being a secret member. It must have a wild experience for the author who knew the truth.
But.
A mere student’s voice had less strength than the voices of influential scholars. Once it became a trend flooding the public, nothing the prankster could say would overcome the wall of majority rule.
No matter the truth of the matter.
So what would happen if he tried to explain what had really happened?
“Are you saying he made his big reveal…and no one believed him?”
Part 5[edit]
Anna Kingsford pinched the center of her racing swimsuit(?)’s ample chest and tugged.
She let air into the cleavage. Or rather, the created tunnel.
Damp with sweet sweat, she used the back of her other hand to wipe the sweat from her brow.
“Phew. It sure is 🌡️ here. I’m soaked with sweat. Yet the bottom level of hell is supposed to be an 🧊 prison.”
“Is that really necessary? Hey, I thought you were just dragging a really serious truth out into the open!! Why are you trying to overpower that with your unbeatable femininity!?”
“?”
She looked confused.
Ms. Sexy’s glasses had started to fog up.
And her air of natural gentleness seemed to press in on him.
…Was she not even aware she was doing it? No, it couldn’t be! It was true his adolescent brain’s memory was more stimulated into activity by the faintly flushed skin of this busty young woman than it was by the distant past of some historical old man!! But not even he was going to focus on the sexy woman in this moment. Wouldn’t that be as extremely inappropriate as ogling the wife in mourning clothes during a tearful funeral ceremony? Did that glasses woman’s hair and skin have to smell so sweet!? Was she like the ultimate mayonnaise that overwhelmed all the other more subtle flavors!?
The silver-haired young man in red was hanging his head.
His expression was hidden, but his shoulders were shaking. In this gloomy atmosphere.
It was no use.
Trying to be nice would probably just make him cry here.
Apparently CRC’s selfishness and capriciousness had all been an act to make himself look bad and he was really just a diligent 15-year-old deep down.
Kamijou Touma had to harden his heart if he was to protect Rosencreutz’s pride and soul.
“Ah ha ha, bwa ha ha, hee hee hee hee hee!!! …I-I can’t do it. I can’t. It makes me laugh every time I think about it. Christian Rosencreutz. Oh, I can’t stand it. Bwah ha! I’m sorry. Pfft. But all this talk about – pfft – the secrets of the world – kee hee hee hee hee – and it can’t hold a candle to a woman in a swimsuit! Pffffft!!!”
“Answer me, hell. Send Kingsford’s giant glasses plummeting toward us. I call upon you, meteor, to crush this insolent boy.”
CRC raised his arms and recited a curse.
But hell did not react this time.
He had fumbled it. Not even Kamijou had taken his adolescence to such an extreme that he couldn’t control himself when it came to glasses that weren’t currently on a woman.
Apparently CRC wasn’t all powerful.
In fact, it sounded like his failures had outnumbered his successes in the past.
Magicians were the end result when a failure kept on struggling. Which was why they tried to distort reality. They wielded supernatural power, but they were entirely different from the Level 5s who had mastered their innate talents. Since Rosencreutz had risen to the level of expert, he must have had a reason behind it all…right?
But in that case…
Noticing Kamijou’s eyes on her, the other expert smiled a little.
“Yes. My past is full of failure and regret.”
And so she had mastered magic.
Unable to forgive her own weakness or tendency to give up, she had decided she would change the world even if it meant remaking herself.
But be that as it may, Kingsford was still perfection as far as Kamijou was concerned. She continued saving people even after dying, but she had also thrown out her resurrected life and descended into hell to collect Kamijou there. This wasn’t like Othinus or Aleister. He sensed something that set Kingsford apart.
He needed to behave himself.
He had to.
“But I just can’t help it. Pft, we were talking about Rosencreutz, but Kingsford is all I can think about.”
“I hope this boy is devoured headfirst by a giant vagina-shaped monster. A horrifyingly hairy vagina!! It can abduct him in a beam of light like a UFO!!!”
Something suddenly exploded.
It came in the form of a fist. The smiling glasses woman had sent a blow right into the center of CRC’s face.
Kingsford was fairly merciless when it came to a death-dealing expert.
Kamijou was glad hell hadn’t reacted to that one…
“While this is CRC’s starting point, we are only looking at echoes of the past. Kamijou Touma, this may be necessary information for you in the present, but do ❌ let it influence you too much.”
“…”
But this was about Rosicrucianism.
He had seen the truth about Christian Rosencreutz.
This was the foundation that had, on some level, influenced the Golden cabal and their greatest mutation Aleister, influenced Anna Sprengel, and even influenced Alice Anotherbible and the other Transcendents.
Kamijou had no idea if he could return from hell alive.
But it still wouldn’t hurt for him to learn all of-
“By the way, Kamijou Touma. While there is 🔥 and lava bursting from the ground here, hell’s 🌊 quality means there is ❌ much hope for a ♨️. But do you think we could manage a hot stone spa?”
“Aren’t we supposed to be discussing Rosencreutz!? I’m sure hell is a boring place for a perfect and flawless woman like you, but stop filling in the gaps with merciless condensed milk!! Everything will end up having that super sweet Kingsford flavor!!!”
Immediately, Kamijou noticed a pale glow.
At first, he thought he was going to get to see a giant young woman enjoying a hot stone spa, but this appeared to be something else.
He sensed a different current or trend to this.
A familiar scene emerged from the scenery. He was again seeing the University of Tübingen which shouldn’t have existed here or now.
Hell had activated.
Part 6[edit]
A great commotion was underway.
Asking where was meaningless. Talk of the rose and the cross was so popular it was happening pretty much everywhere.
Even though it was all made up.
He had loudly insisted it was all a lie, but no one had listened.
Rosicrucianism had completely left Johann’s control. It now belonged to everyone else.
If they wanted to enjoy it, so be it.
As long as that was what they wanted, an individual might be happy living a blindfolded life.
But.
This was on another level altogether.
“Don’t tell anyone, but I am an official Rosicrucian member. Pray to me and you might just acquire a potion capable of curing the ailment destroying your body.”
That was one of the professors.
One of the important scholars who taught at the university. As much as the boy was loath to admit it, that man was a respectable theologian who had supported the protestants to critique corruption in the monasteries and the selling of indulgences in order to drive out the vested interests of the old world.
But…
This wasn’t the same as an individual refusing to face reality and blindfolding themselves. Stealing reality away from those who had yet to be deceived was something else entirely.
The boy attempted to fight it.
Recklessly.
The worst part was that this professor was a professor.
That meant he wasn’t trying to deceive people maliciously. He believed the Rosicrucian legend from the bottom of his heart and had truly convinced himself that praying to a member of the cabal would heal other’s ailments.
So.
This was well past the point where a good argument could function as a weapon.
Only academic theories could be beaten with logic.
Logic was powerless against faith.
“You say you created it all yourself? …Nonsense. Even I have barely even begun to scratch the surface of its true depths, so you – you who are so close to flunking out – could never understand even a fragment of the Rosicrucian truths that flawlessly combine mind-bendingly complex theories with supremely simple answers!!”
There is no deeper meaning! It’s a joke! It’s my house crest!!
Johann’s shouts reached no one.
No one at all.
The people who spoke of his invented nonsense as if it were real instead mocked him as ignorant and uneducated, shunning him.
They were like a naked emperor who no one could judge.
They all were.
But it wasn’t over yet.
Johann wasn’t alone. The friend who had accompanied him in that small room was the only other one who knew of the prank. In that topsy-turvy world, only he understood the same truth as Johann. He had helped created this trend. So if they worked together, surely they could bring an end to this ridiculous festival.
Or so Johann thought.
“It wasn’t us.”
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
The original assumption had crumbled away within his friend.
“We didn’t create this. You said you searched through all sorts of old non-Christian texts, right? Well, couldn’t you have stumbled upon some real secret Rosicrucian document in there? That must be it. That makes so much more sense than thinking the two of us somehow managed to remake the world!! Right!?”
Johann could not forget the strange light deep in his friend’s eyes.
He could never forget.
Something had taken root deep inside his friend.
The monster those two had created had taken on a life of its own and grown to the point it could travel freely from person to person. And even swallow up one of its own creators.
Had that friend been unable to bear the pressure of breaking the world?
Or had he not wanted to destroy the Rosicrucian illusion. Even if it meant altering his own memories?
Yourself or the world?
When one or the other had to be wrong, an individual mind would give into the majority rule and rewrite its own memories. People would fabricate memories in no time as long as they were aware that simply lying to themselves would let them escape eternal isolation and join the crowd.
Hypnosis only worked when the subject wanted it to.
This was a perfect example of a self-suggestion no one had asked for.
…Johann didn’t know what happened to his friend afterwards. They had continued attending the same university, but they had barely spoken. He may have begun a search for nonexistent old texts related to the rose and the cross.
Johann had no allies left.
He was all alone.
In a storm of fierce words, Johann was forced to endure the gale of text all alone.
Meanwhile, the important people who believed in Rosicrucianism began pulling out dusty old documents. They discussed whether Greek mythology, Egyptian mythology, or other things might point to a piece of the Rosicrucian secrets and they tried patching it all together. The powerless invented story began to to change as the patchwork gradually took on a new form. By the time the original flavor was no longer recognizable, a drop of true poison had found its way inside.
In other words, various forms of eastern and western magic.
They must have decided this would make good camouflage and help them in their factional conflicts.
So a kernel of knowledge taken from, of all places, an original grimoire was included.
Once the ball began rolling down the hill, no one could stop it.
Not even Johann.
He was its creator, but he had lost control.
Once people were wielding visible miracles, it became impossible to say whether it was a lie or the truth.
“Ahh.”
“Pray to me.”
“Help me.” “I’ll pay anything.” “Give it to me too.”
“No.” “It hurts.” “That’s weird.” “Help.” “I heard the Rosicrucian book could heal me.”
“L-L-Lord Rosencreutz!!” “Argh, I’m willing to spend my entire fortune to track down CRC!” “Are you sure that’s safe?” “Hee hee. Care to try some divination of the rose and the cross?” “Uweeeeaahhhhhhh!” “Please don’t leave me.” “This here is the sequel to the primary text of a secret cult! Any takers!?” “Wait, you seriously don’t believe in CRC?” “I heard you shelter Rosicrucians in your territory.” “Are you the enemy of mankind who dares defy Lord Rosencreutz!?” “All you have to do is believe, so stop making waves.” “They say it’s complete.” “You got what you deserved. You wouldn’t be sick if you hadn’t insulted the Rosicrucians.” “I am Rosencreutz reborn!” “I have the elixir of life!!” “You must be removed. Your lack of belief in CRC makes you an illness upon this world!!” “Hee hee. I’m making a killing off of this.” “Can you really call yourself an intellectual if you aren’t well-read on the rose and the cross?” “Help me!!” “Don’t worry. Everyone will be saved as long as they do as Rosencreutz says.”
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!”
Johann Valentin Andreae.
He was defeated by Christian Rosencreutz.
Reality was stolen from him.
He had invented it, but he was labeled the liar.
CRC had transformed into a secret truth. And the Rosicrucian legend with him at the top had left the control of the 15-year-old boy who had created it. He had been able to switch it on, but switching it off wasn’t so easy.
He heard the world changing.
Distorting.
Bending.
Twisting.
Breaking.
He had created an engine that convinced so many people they were happy even as it dragged them down to hell.
Part 7[edit]
“Mugyu.”
That was a sound effect.
It came from Kingsford’s lips.
And Kamijou Touma’s face was fully buried in the large chest of her swimsuit-like outfit.
Her arms were holding him tight.
(Why!?)
“!!!???”
“🤫.”
Anna Kingsford was perfectly calm.
The heat must have been too much even for an expert because her body felt overheated and was slick with sweet sweat!!
“There is something here. But this is ❌ as characterized as the Malebranche, so it must be a more primitive concept. Perhaps a manifestation of Nyx who surrounds Tartarus.”
“(Mghghmgh, what does that have to do with these boobs in my face, mgh!?)”
“Nyx seems to calculate the #️⃣ of souls wandering in hell and 🔒s onto them, so by bringing our souls close together, the difference between one and two vanishes and we can avoid her.”
Kingsford explained a mysterious concept as if it were obvious.
Of course, Kamijou’s confusion was probably his fault for being ignorant.
Also, Kingsford appeared to be counting them as souls, not bodies. That was a weird feeling for Kamijou. Did it mean he was sensing this body heat, sweet scent, and large soft boobs without them actually having bodies!?
“Also, it seems CRC will be attacked because he is all alone over there.”
“Old man!! Quit feeling sorry for yourself and run away!!”
He was right there next to them.
And in an instant where the soaring beads of sweat seemed to freeze in space like jewels, Kamijou’s outstretched hand just barely failed to reach him.
He was pulled back.
Forcefully.
He had lost to Anna Kingsford's big boobs.
“You trait-”
Something rushed right past him and then the silver-haired young man in red vanished in the middle of shouting something. There was now nothing past Kamijou’s fingertips. The selfish and capricious old man who was surprisingly diligent deep down had disappeared.
Something like a great wave of pitch black sludge being slung around by the color white tinged with red enveloped and took away Rosencreutz. The language may have broken down there a bit, but that was unavoidable when something so strange had happened. That was just how it was in a hell beyond human understanding.
It was now a level lower.
It was rolling down.
Making an unpleasant sludge-like noise the entire time.
That extraordinary monster had made a physical attack just as its target was immobilized by their past trauma. That showed just how unforgiving hell was.
Now was not the time to be buried in a kind glasses woman’s sweaty boobs.
“Ahhhhhh!! I-I don’t believe it. CRC was taken out in a single blow? What, are we playing on hell difficulty!”
“Um, do you need to specify that when we’re in hell?”
Yes.
This truly was hell.
“By the way, Nyx is a girl, so you could say CRC was just attacked by a goddess of the night. Yes, a very passionate mounting attack.”
“Did you say a goddess of the night!?”
Why did that sound so extremely indecent!? Based on the white statues, he could guess Greek mythology’s surface-level standards of beauty weren’t all that different from the modern standards, so if he wanted to see an extremely lewd and beautiful goddess, was his best option to wait and see what happened!? …That would be fine, right? CRC was an expert, so he had to be pretty sturdy and waiting a bit before rescuing him wouldn’t make all that much difference, right!?
The glasses woman tilted her head.
“Sigh. I do ❌ know what has inspired this desire to learn more about the Hellenistic gods, but one of her most notable traits is that she goes on to marry her older brother.”
“She’s a goddess of the night, a little sister, a young bride, and a divine wife!? D-do gods just exist at a level beyond human imagination? This goddess has way too much going on. I’m having a hard time even visualizing her!!!”
Kamijou’s adolescent soul took a powerful blow, like he snuck into a park full of lovers at night, but that probably wasn’t what this was.
Look, Rosencreutz had been taken away by the color white tinged with red, pitch black, and a flash flood.
What about that was a girl?
“Um, Kingsford-sensei?”
“Yes?”
“The limbs and back can be as monstrous as you want, but the face and body need to maintain that soft femininity. What I mean is, the end result should look someone wearing fancy thigh highs and long gloves.”
“?”
It was actually extremely rare for the benevolent expert to be left tilting her head in confusion, but Kamijou failed to notice that.
Listen.
This was a very important discussion for the pointy-haired boy.
“My point is, if you don’t follow those rules, I’ll have a hard time accepting it as a niche type of moe. The way things are, Nyx-chan seems more like a traditional monster than the kind with ‘girl’ tacked on the end. And that sludge doesn’t even seem like a translucent slime girl where you can see right through her!! So can you please explain what this even is, sensei!? Senseiiii!!!”
“Well, while I did call her a goddess, the Greek Nyx is actually a giant amorphous something that surrounds hell in place of the river of the ☠️.”
“Wh-what the hell!? These old mythologies just don’t get it! Are you kidding me!? How is that supposed to be my little sister young wife goddess of the night!?”
“Hm??? Your?”
“No sheer negligee and no frilly apron? If I asked Othinus about a long thing surrounding the world, she’d probably tell me it’s something like a giant serpent. Which means this is a legit mythological creature!!”
“How many times do I need to tell you that Nyx is a Greek goddess, dammit?”
“That’s just a horror monster trying to kill Rosencreutz! There’s nothing cute about it! It’s a scam! Did you think there were boys out there who would get excited over a hug from a female tyrannosaurus!?”
“Oh…I 💭 you hurt Nyx’s feelings. She’s leaving CRC and trembling.”
“Are you serious? Have I finally reached the point of making a goddess cry?”
“I 💭 she 💭 she was just playing with him.”
That kind of playing seemed like it would kill a human, though. Also, it turned out that big wave of black sludge was in fact a clump of filthy wet hair.
Kamijou Touma had accidentally saved Rosencreutz.
This was a new record for him.
He couldn’t imagine what kind of damage being mounted by Nyx would cause, but the silver-haired young man in red lay unmoving on the ground. No. Don’t laugh. Yes, he’s sizzling with smoke rising from him, but that damage is serious. Don’t laugh! I have no proof, but I’m certain that would have killed me. But I can’t help it. Peh heh heh. The more I try to tell myself it’s inappropriate, the more hilarious it seems. This is the same guy who strutted across Academy City trying to destroy the world. Bwa ha. It’s just too funny. Ah ha ha. He really is lying there on his back like a dead cicada, sprawled out with some smoke rising from the very top of his head. Hee hee. Bwa ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!
This was hell.
Kamijou swore to himself he would take this seriously.
“I-I am pleased to see Rosencreutz is safe?”
“Boy. For as long as I live, this old man will never forget that grinning face twitching on the verge of exploding into laughter.”
Now he had a lifelong promise from a legendary figure.
But this didn’t sound like the beginning of a love story.
And hell began to glow once more.
The cycle seemed to be speeding up.
Part 8[edit]
The Rosicrucian social phenomenon proved to be more than just a temporary fad.
It had taken root.
The educated class had developed an understanding that anyone who wasn’t well-versed in Rosicrucianism was behind the times.
Or to put it another way, simply being able to discuss it came with advantages.
At that point, the instigator was no longer needed. A cycle had been established, allowing rumors to birth further rumors.
It all began at the University of Tübingen in the Holy Roman Empire.
That university was a base of the Lutherans who had thoroughly criticized the self-interest and bad habits of the old church, meaning it was a protestant institution. Thanks to this, the three major Christian powers – the Anglican Church, the Roman Catholic Church, and the Russian Orthodox Church – were slow to react. They were slow to identify the source and this delay allowed the delusions of the rose and the cross to spread too far to be stopped.
The witch hunts that began in the 12th century and spread rapidly in that period were another problem. To stop the people’s emotions and the standardization of vigilante justice, the three major Christian powers were trying to apply the brakes on the rejection of heretics at the time. Public executions were a symbol of fear from above, but when an execution failed, the furious public were liable to rush in and kill the executioner.
In the 17th century, the Renaissance had split the public in two and changed how rational people thought. The people once more accepted ancient Greek and Roman art, they let their imaginations run wild about the Egyptian pyramids, and the old church, which had oppressed such things and even slaughtered the public they were meant to protect, fell out of favor. At first, the three major powers tried to pin the blame for this failure on each other, but they were also hesitant to act for fear of repeating the same mistakes and reopening the half-healed wounds.
This allowed the legend of Christian Rosencreutz to spread too far and endlessly alter the world.
If they were truly in the right, they shouldn’t have hesitated.
Of course, there was a downside to the Rosicrucian movement sweeping across that era.
Use a certain special method and you will be successful.
You must not follow any other method.
Training came with danger.
If it was easy, everyone could become an expert, so the creator of the myth had to make sure the task was difficult to achieve. So difficult that people would give up before they even tried.
Nevertheless.
Visible rituals weren’t a problem as long as they were on the level of putting stockings out on Christmas Eve or writing on a tanzaku for Tanabata, but when they escalated to the point of severely restricting people’s actions, they could lead to a dangerous path.
Looking back, it was all the work of a 15-year-old boy.
Who hadn’t given it all that much thought.
He had only sought simple ways of making it seem more realistic so his prank would succeed.
And because that creator hadn’t properly ended his prank, the truth born from the lies produced real victims. He struggled for years but couldn’t change it. In fact, he learned that this would likely continue well into the future. Possibly even after his own death. Maybe forever.
So…
“This is this young man’s responsibility…”
The words leaving the former-boy’s mouth carried resentment.
True resentment.
The magician raised his head and made a howling announcement to the world.
“So. So! Listen, you fools claiming to be members of the phony Rosicrucian cabal!! And you masses dragging yourself down to the depths by innocently believing in the nonexistent Christian Rosencreutz!! No matter what it takes – even if it takes centuries. This young man swears he will obliterate every last trace of this ridiculous legeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeend!!!”
Part 9[edit]
Kamijou heard that cry.
He listened to the entirety of the lament, the wail, the roar.
To the cry of the boy who had once been 15.
That monster turned out to in fact be unexpectedly responsible. He felt so responsible for the problem he had caused that he had dedicated his entire life to ending it.
That was Christian Rosencreutz.
No, that was Johann Valentin Andreae wearing the costume.
He was indeed the cause of it all.
But was he really such a villain that he deserved to suffer even after his death?
“And so he became Christian Rosencreutz,” whispered Kingsford. Quietly but firmly. “He had created the character, so he knew what weak points to target to make him crumble. He concluded that dressing up as his most hated character and causing nothing but violence was the quickest way to disillusion the 🌍 and its people with Rosicrucianism and thus saving them. The man named Johann Valentin Andreae built up his status as a theologian while secretly using his Rosencreutz guise to ruin the people who believed in him.”
Like a bandit.
Like a phantom thief.
Like a con artist.
He became a mysterious and elusive miracle of a man who seemed to exist in that same era, but no one in the world could come in contact with.
“Come to think of it, hell has a spot to punish liars and frauds. It was believed to be near the bottom of hell as a whole, which shows just how sinful an act that was thought to be. Hell is another part of the mythology. If he had studied theology a little more seriously, this may ❌ have happened in the first place.”
“…”
“Let’s go. We are still only partway through hell. We are ❌ even close to finished.”
Kamijou suddenly realized Tübingen was nowhere to be found.
This was no longer a university.
It was hell.
Everything he had seen was so overwhelming he had lost sight of where he was walking, so it had taken a bit to notice. Without that benevolent expert guiding him, he doubted he could have even walked in a straight line here. It wasn’t just the fiery hell and the mountainous hell. Simply following the path was a challenge. He hurried after Kingsford so he wouldn’t be left behind.
But still, this was hell.
Kamijou once more gulped at how effective it was. It wasn’t just an ordinary high school boy like him. Hell would even mercilessly attack a monster like Christian Rosencreutz.
And…
“I see. The benevolent expert, hm? But do not think you can hide it forever. The truth is gradually coming into focus for this old man.”
“?”
Kamijou thought this was only some nonsense from the selfish and capricious expert.
No matter how it had begun, that man had become someone who brought ruin to everyone who believed in him. Kamijou knew how dangerous it was to carelessly listen to anything CRC said.
But…
“Hmph. Anna Kingsford has some guts saying all that while ignoring her own presence.”
That statement caught Kamijou’s attention.
CRC made it sound like the benevolent expert – perfect Anna Kingsford – had some kind of flaw.
Kamijou had trouble imaging that.
If this was a baseless accusation made out of sour grapes, surely CRC could do better than that.
It felt completely out of place.
Which bothered him.
“What? Boy, have you really not noticed?”
“Noticed what?”
Rosencreutz’s surprise looked fairly legitimate.
They had fought a deadly battle in Academy City, but this was an unusual look from him.
“There is no such thing as a perfect person. Sigh, she really has tamed you, hasn’t she? Has the boy who defeated this old man regressed to being a baby bird that can only follow after its mother?”
“Hey, even I know to remain a little caut-”
“Was it her boobs or her butt that ensnared your soul? You can tell this old man. Or is this something more psychological? Is it based on your dream of being babied by a dorm manager in a naked apro-”
“(Shut your mouth. Kingsford-sensei can hear everything you’re saying at this range!!)”
“?”
The point of Kingsford’s witchy hat wobbled a bit as she walked up ahead…or so it looked to Kamijou.
Which scared him.
The adolescent frantically covered the young old man’s mouth with his right hand.
The two filthy guys spoke from extreme close range while Kingsford walked a few steps ahead.
“Now, then.”
Something floated in the air.
It was a clear jigsaw puzzle. That miniature model of the world was too bugged too function here in hell, but Rosencreutz was still trying force it into a V-shape.
Was that supposed to be a cross-section of the mortar-shaped hell?
Rosencreutz poked at a piece wiggling a bit below the middle.
“Even if you are unfamiliar with the structure of the western hell, you must remember that we started by passing through the gate, correct?”
Now that he mentioned it…
Of course, Kamijou couldn’t remember much about that gate with the later impact of the giant boobs and butt, Rosencreutz’s secret, and Nyx-chan.
“There is a reason you barely remember it,” said Rosencreutz, sounding deeply exasperated. “That was the entrance to hell. That is, it was the earliest stage on the easiest difficulty setting.”
Oh, is that all? thought Kamijou because it had seemed more like a dark forest and stone, which wasn’t very hell-like. Things had seemed a lot more like hell once they started seeing orange-glowing magma.
…But then Kamijou froze.
Wait.
Hold on.
“Caught on, did you?”
“Um. Weren’t we trying to stage a ‘jailbreak’ to escape hell?”
“So you have caught on.”
“Then why did we all pass through the entrance and then start walking down toward the bottom of hell?”
Kamijou took another look at Anna Kingsford’s back a few steps ahead of him.
His impression of her had changed.
Kamijou had already walked through the gate. He may have only been one step into the afterlife when he first woke up, but then he had crossed hell’s starting point of his own free will.
“You will die.”
“That doesn’t change my answer.”
He recalled his past conversation with Alice.
Could it be?
Was it possible that he had once again made a fatal decision right at the very start before anyone had even explained it to him?
“Umm…”
“Is something wrong?”
Kingsford sounded unconcerned. She turned back to look at him, but he could only manage a noncommittal smile in return.
Unconcerned?
He of course had no clue what her truth was. That expert had complete control over her body and mind. It was possible her willpower was strong enough to manipulate the value of her heart rate, so he could never hope to see through her poker face.
He had seen and heard a lot in this hell.
But he hadn’t put any effort into any of it. The fact that a benevolent expert like Anna Kingsford had shown up in hell was too good to be true for someone for whom misfortune was his default state.
With his misfortune, he would more likely be left behind on a school trip after the bus tour guide forgot all about him.
He had no actual evidence to back it up, but his instincts were screaming that he shouldn’t trust that everything was as it seemed concerning this lucky turn of events.
So he had been prepared to find a lie somewhere.
But…
(Come to think of it, I never did learn what Anna Kingsford’s goal here is. Can I really just assume this is just a kind young woman acting of a maternal spirit of volunteerism? But what if she does have her own purpose here and I can’t trust her either?)
He heard some screeching.
It almost sounded like birds, but he doubted it really was.
If he did peer into the shadows to find out what it was, he had a feeling it would shatter his soul. That was a perfectly plausible outcome in hell.
(Then should I get away from Kingsford and try to escape without her? All on my own while already past the midpoint of hell!?)
“Be careful,” whispered CRC.
He even kept his lips motionless to keep the benevolent expert from noticing.
“This old man is an obvious threat…but the truly terrifying threats are the ones that aren’t so obvious at first glance.”
Monsters[edit]
Cerberus
Originally the guard dog standing at the entrance to the Greek underworld. Was incorporated into the Christian view of hell, where he is a beast that chases down sinners and crushes them in his great jaws.
Looks terrifying but has a strong canine side, so it may be possible for a human to tame him if they know the correct method?
Nyx
Goddess of the night and the being that fully surrounds the Greek hell of Tartarus. She is depicted in many different forms, but here she is depicted as a woman with exceedingly long hair.
While she is in hell, she does not necessarily do bad things and she is heavily involved in the structure of the world.
She acts as an extremely solid border, so her appearance indicates you are approaching some kind of taboo.
