A/N: (October 31st)
Happy Halloween, everyone!
I had a long day today— and I'm gonna end up having a long day tomorrow, too, so I'll keep these notes short.
Just to clear up some confusion in the reviews: no, Noel is not dead. I have some use for her later on, so I hope that makes some feel relieved. I wouldn't introduce a character as important to Ciel's character arc like Noel and just throw her away in two chapters, lol
As for what's coming next, who's planning all this, well…we shall see, hm?
Thank you for reading, and hope you enjoy!
Chapter V: The Divine and the Dead
According to the reports, Avignon had already fallen.
In only an hour or so, Avignon had gone from a busy, modest French town to a wasteland of ash and ice.
'Ash and ice…'
Reading over the report on the monitor, he couldn't wrap his head around those two oxymoronic words.
'How the hell is something supposed to be hot and cold at the same time?' He cursed inwardly. It didn't make sense— although considering what had happened to him the past couple weeks, he supposed that at this point, it was likely par for the course.
Accelerator sighed, walking over to a maintenance crew member for the HsB-02 supersonic stealth bomber that they were currently riding in. They, as well as a dozen or so accompanying bombers were nine or so kilometers above the ground. They reached speeds that, despite still being hundreds of kilometers away, would get them to Avignon in minutes.
"Oi. You really think Academy City needs to bomb this damn place? Think it's already kinda destroyed itself, from whatever the hell caused it."
He pointed his cane at one of the monitors, which showed the current state of the town of Avignon. Despite stormy, blizzard-esq snow winds obscuring its true appearance, he could still make out the rubble and destruction buried underneath the cold.
"I-I'm just following orders." The crew member replied. "Our task is to bomb the outer perimeter of the town. And yours is to get on the field, right? You should probably get your parachute on."
"Don't need it."
"H-Huh?"
Accelerator blinked at him. He was a bit surprised that the young man wasn't brief on who he was, but to be fair, it wasn't like he actively made his appearance or presence known, either.
"Just— whatever. Open the hatch when it's time."
He hobbled over to the aft doorway. Now less than a hundred kilometers away, it was probably a minute or two until the bombardment began— and until he'd be released onto the field to clean up the mess already down there.
He could hear the men and women around him scrambling, making sure that everything was in order for the attack as he silently pressed the button on his choker.
The green light turned red. He retracted his cane, and stood stably on his two feet.
'Search and destroy some weird document. Kick the ass of anyone who gets in the way.
Yeah, guess I can work with that.'
He crossed his arms and waited for the signal.
But not just a moment later did the Level 5 find his hand reaching into his pocket, pulling out a shard of metal from thousands of years' past.
The greek letter for Alpha was inscribed across the top of the triangular-shaped piece, which itself was a part of a much larger, much more divine shield.
"…"
He couldn't voice any words or thoughts when he stared at it. Every so often, however, he'd find himself looking at it, anyway.
'…Ah, whatever.'
He quickly pocketed it.
"Wha—?!"
He turned his head as he heard the maintenance crew stir— and not in a good way.
"We just lost contact with Bravo Four and Five!" He exclaimed. "Their signals just vanished from the rad— Huh?! Nine and Three, too?!"
Accelerator marched over to him. "Oi, what the hell is going on?"
The man looked at him, sweat beginning to saturate his pours as he scrambled to search for the cause. Through the headphones he was wearing, Accelerator could barely make out the dozens of voices trying to solve the same problem he was.
The Esper looked at the radar monitor. The sweeping line previously made out twelve blue dots— the Bombers sent by Academy City to rain down hell upon Avignon.
Now there were only eight left.
"Two, Ten, and Eleven…confirmed, lost signal!"
Make that five.
The Esper grit his teeth. Something wasn't right.
They were moving at supersonic speeds. To get from Academy City to Avignon— nearly ten-thousand kilometers worth of distance— in an hour, they had to be traveling eight times mach speed.
And given a stealth bomber's nature of being, for lack of a better term, stealthy, there was fat chance an enemy military would be able to detect them, especially given Academy City's hyper-advanced technology.
'The only nation that could even somewhat give us a run for our money technologically speaking is the United States…' Accelerator pondered. 'But they have no reason to target Academy City— they're neutral at worst, allies at best. So what gives—?!'
"…How the hell did this…?" The man put down his headset, and looked, pleadingly at the Level 5, as if he could fix this whole situation. "…We just lost contact with all other bombers."
The white-haired Esper glanced at the radar.
The only signal that showed up was their own.
A sinking feeling rippled through Accelerator's chest.
Before he could mouth out a response, he gasped as his vision filled with white.
An impossibly loud bang of ringing, intense explosions blasted out all around him. If it weren't for his Reflection defending him, not only would his eardrums have bled and exploded, but so would have the rest of his body.
He felt the ground under him vanish. The light, shockwaves, dust and debris quickly flew away from him as he realized he was currently hurtling through the high atmosphere at many times the speed of sound.
'Dammit—!'
He blinked his eyes over and over. Again, thanks to his Reflection, all he really suffered was a temporary loss of oxygen from the vacuum the explosions created, and a stunning light akin to a flashbang that faded in seconds.
He extended his arms and legs, stabilizing his fall as much as possible as he used his Vector Manipulation to push the air under him and further slow his descent. He didn't have to worry about dying once he hit the ground, but he'd rather not make his fall chaotic and messy. The oxygen was thin at eight-thousand meters up, but he could survive for the minutes it would take to reach the ground.
He glanced up and behind him.
"…!"
Twelve clouds of gray rained down fire and debris to the French plains below. It only then sunk in that he was the only survivor of the attack.
'…But…what the fuck attacked us?!'
He couldn't see anything around for literal kilometers that could have shot down twelve hard-to-spot, supersonic stealth bombers like they were fish in a barrel.
He closed his eyes, remembering to the instant that the white light blinded him. He had incredibly fast reaction time, so he thought back to recall what he saw just before they were shot down.
'…Right.'
Something had crashed through the stealth bomber's right wall, striking it perpendicularly and coming out the opposite side. The absolute force it had hammered the aircraft with was enough to fold and tear it apart in fractions of a second.
He grit his teeth.
'It almost looked like a…'
He shifted his head over to where he roughly calculated where it would be.
And upon looking upon it, his eyes widened in shock.
"…Is that a fucking pirate sh—?"
He cut himself off as he felt a pressure barreling toward him.
He took it head-on. There was virtually nothing that could get past his Reflection, after all—
"…Gah—!"
It hit his body.
It actually, legitimately hit his body. He gasped as a pain that he couldn't fathom started inward and quickly spread outward, up and down his spine and through his skull.
Then, his arms and legs limped as his mind rapidly lost consciousness.
xXx
The arrival of the Amakusa Christians had been a huge boon to Kamijou and the others. To face something as powerful as a Dead Apostle Ancestor, they needed one of two things: either overwhelming power, or overwhelming numbers.
The Amakusa Christian Church provided the former. Arguably, with their holy-type spells that provided the perfect Anti-Dead Apostle counter they needed, the former applied as well.
And with their numbers up to fifty-strong, a magical force like this could easily rival a powerful battalion of mages from the Association. All-in-all, thanks to the connections that Kamijou had made in the past, their chances of getting Itsuwa and Ciel back had gotten much better.
There was just one, small problem.
"Absolute Zero?!"
Motoharu exclaimed, scratching his head in utter disbelief at Tatemiya Saiji, whose head was shaking in despondent acceptance.
Kamijou's group and the Amakusa had arrived on the outskirts of Avignon, roughly four or five kilometers away from the heart of the town— where the Palace of Popes stood. On their brief drive back, it had become abundantly clear that the temperature was drastically, drastically falling.
Just from where they were standing, the local air stood at a crisp one degree Celsius; nearly enough for water to begin freezing, and much too cold for a southern French town during early autumn. At their feet was a thin layer of snow, frost and ice; the winds were merely breezy, but seemed to get thicker and more intense the deeper into the town they looked; to the point where most of Avignon wasn't even visible under the cool moonlight.
And what's worse…it apparently got colder, much colder, the further one traversed into the town.
"Yeah. According to the spell-testing we conducted, just walking another hundred meters inward drops the temperature another five or six degrees." Tatemiya explained. "…At the center, by our estimate, it's probably damn close to absolute zero in there…and we'd easily die of frostbite before we even got remotely close."
"Dammit…only an Ancestor could do something that stupidly powerful." Tsuchimikado huffed. "Not to mention the fact that I've lost contact with Academy City's air support…honestly, it feels like it's just going from bad to worse, around here."
Touma realized something dreadful as he stepped over to Tatemiya. "…So what does this mean for Itsuwa and Ciel?" He asked.
"…You always have to hold out hope." The Supreme Pontiff of the Amakusa said. "…At the same time…I don't know if I like their chances. You said that Ciel is a special case though, right?"
"Sort of." Index chimed in, her crossed arms and facial expression showing she clearly wasn't enjoying the winter-like weather. "She…can die, but there's some sort of curse or spell that always revives her. So far, it's always worked…so it's safe to say that she's alive, but able to move might be a different case entirely."
"Sounds like a damn powerful curse if it's able to take temperatures that low." Saiji sighed. "But doesn't do anything to help us. All we can really do is just stand here and wait and hope that this blizzard clears."
While they had the logistics of how intense the cold storm before them was, what they still needed to figure out was why it existed.
For that, Touma jogged over to another car, blowing air into his hands to warm them up as he approached a certain pair of Tohsaka sisters, seeming to be putting something together on the hood of a car.
"Hey, uh…Rin, Sakura, how are you guys holding up?"
"Got it!"
Touma blinked as Rin, who seemed to be tinkering with her jacket in some way, lifted it up by the sleeves and grinned at it satisfactorily. Slipping it back on, she sighed in relief as a gentle orange glow seemed to emanate from her coat.
Only then, did she turn to acknowledge him. "O-Oh, hey, Kamijou. Did you guys figure out how to get past that storm, yet?"
He shook his head. "Nope. It apparently gets close to absolute zero…so, y'know, it's kind of virtually impossible."
Rin responded by confidently wagging her finger in front of him. "Not on my watch, it isn't. This is where my Clock Tower mage training comes in handy, Kamijou. Here, hand me your jacket."
"But it's cold."
"Exactly, so hand it over!"
Without protesting much further, he took off and handed his school jacket over to her, watching her set it on the car's hood as she produced a small ruby from her pocket.
He nudged the crimson mage's sister on the shoulder. "What's she up to, Sakura?"
"…A Mystic Code." The lilac-haired responded, uncharacteristically matter-of-factly. "She's converting your clothes into temperature-resistant Mystic Codes. At least, that's what it looks like she's doing, to me."
"Eh? You can do that?" Kamijou asked.
Sakura nodded. "You can create a Mystic Code out of anything…if you know what you're doing, of course.
I should know; I technically am one, right now."
"…"
Before he could say something sympathetic, Sakura placed a finger on his lips without even turning to look at him. "It's okay, Kamijou-san. I don't need any pity, and I'm right, anyway.
Mystic Codes are any magical item, artifact, or device used to enhance or that's based on a mage's craft. My…puppet body, created by Aozaki-san, technically fits that definition. Neesan's doing the same to her and your clothes, too."
They both watched as the elder Tohsaka floated the ruby above the fabric, letting a crimson, warm glow flow from the gem and into cotton.
Since Rin's face looked fairly concentrated at the moment, Kamijou thought it best to keep quiet.
…
"She gonna make a Mystic Code for you, too?" He asked Sakura.
"…No, I have my own way."
A moment later, Rin exhaled deeply in relief, stretching her arms before lifting up his school jacket and examining it closely. "I didn't compromise any of the fabrics, did I…? Okay, good."
She offered it back to its rightful owner, who nodded in gratitude as he slipped it on.
Immediately, he felt the difference. 'Woah…'
The sleeves felt substantially warmer. Not just the sleeves; the entire article had a unique snugness to it that entirely negated the near-freezing temperatures around them, even somehow spreading its effects to his legs and face.
"Cool, right?" Rin said. "E-Er, warm, I suppose. I imbued some of the Fire attribute into our clothes, using the magical energy of my gems as a buffer and energy source. They should last about three hours out here— although considering it gets substantially colder within, I doubt they'll last nearly as long once we actually start heading toward the center."
"So what are we looking at, then— maybe an hour, tops?" Touma asked.
Rin hesitated just for a moment, then apprehensively shrugged. "Let's make that best-case scenario. You said absolute zero…even the strongest of temperature resistance spells only go so far. I'd give us maybe ten minutes at most at the center of the town, which isn't nearly enough time to defeat Vlov."
For some reason, she gave a slight side-eye to Sakura as she walked up to Kamijou, dusting off the falling snow on his shoulder. "But that's not our goal, anyway."
"Right." He agreed.
Back at the commandeered house, they and the Amakusa Christians determined their priorities upon returning to Avignon: save…and/or recover Ciel and Itsuwa first, engage Vlov as a distant second.
Their main obstacle was a Dead Apostle Ancestor which, even with the entire Amakusan sect as backup, would prove to be a tall task to topple. So, their response was to simply not engage.
With Avignon already out of reach to salvage, their only hope was to free their friends. With the solace in knowing that Ciel was basically guaranteed to be alive, their went forward with their mission wholeheartedly.
In his heart of hearts, Kamijou held out that Itsuwa was somewhere kicking in that storm too, but…
'…No. I can't think about that. I'll find her. I'll find both of them…I owe it to everyone to try.'
xXx
Upon Rin informing them of the creation of her makeshift Mystic Codes, relief, if ever slight, seemed to wash over the hopeless situation.
Tatemiya had asked her if she could somehow do the same for the rest of them, but she had to turn them down.
"I had to give up one of my gems for each Mystic Code, and I only have so many that I need to use for other spells…not to mention making just these two drained more out of me than I'd like to admit."
The idea of her teaching it to the others also came up, but she again had to turn them down, this time on the account of talent.
Rin Tohsaka wasn't just any magus— she was the finest of the Tohsaka bloodline, something called an Average One. Instead of what the name seemingly implies, which is only average aptitude, Rin was given the innate blessing at birth to use all five of the Great Elements with equal talent.
This, coupled with her constant training since she was a child, turned her into a youthful prodigy. The spells she concocted could therefore be based on any element, and weren't simply things she could teach to others less naturally equipped.
All this to say, there were only three people who could make it to the center of Avignon: her, Kamijou, and Sakura.
"We won't just abandon you three here, though." Tatemiya said. "We Amakusa Christians'll guide you as far as our bodies can take us, and stave away any oncoming Dead Apostles as much as we can."
"Right." Rin nodded. "Thank you again, Tatemiya-kun. We owe you and the Amakusans one."
"Don't mention it. We're all about doing what's right, anyway; it's the teachings that our Saint gave us, and we'll carry them for as long as we breathe. Ain't that right, guys?!"
He raised his sword up with a defiant, triumphant shout. In response, a crowd of chilled, but fired Amakusans lit up the air with the heat of their determination.
Rin gazed upon the miniature army behind her, then at the freezing storm before them.
'…We can do this. We can do this.'
She breathed warmth into her hands, overhearing the parting words that Index and Touma were giving each other.
"Don't do anything stupid like you usually do, you hear me?" The Anglican Nun reprimanded. "And…get Ciel and Itsuwa back. Please."
"…We will. Don't worry. Stay with Tsuchimikado, yeah? I'm trusting you with him."
"How come you made it sound like she's the one watching me, Kami-yan?"
"I— ugh, whatever. Just stay safe, you two."
Rin glanced over to Sakura, just as Kamijou caught up to the two of them. The small trio made up the vanguard and, due to their Mystic Codes' limit, had to practically sprint toward the center of town to preserve as much time as possible.
Seeing Sakura's arms shaking from the cold, Rin patted her little sister on the shoulder. "…I think it's time, Sakura."
"…Yeah." She breathed.
The younger Tohsaka magus stepped forward, holding her hand out in front of her. Her lavender hair blew through the ever-quickening winds as she closed her eyes and uttered:
"…Alright, little guy. Just like we practiced."
Rin watched as Sakura's barely-visible shadow darkened…then shifted independently, shrinking into a semi-humanoid miniature that floated and fluttered up into her hand.
It extended its two tendril-like limbs, wrapping them around her arm and encasing it within herself. Then, its whole self dove headfirst, expanding to envelope her, then gently compressing down until it properly fit her body.
Sakura winced— apparently she wasn't quite used to it yet, but the attempt was successful.
The younger Tohsaka had been shrouded in a nearly pure-black outfit, from the tips of her toes to up to her neck. It was quite form-fitting and accentuated the curves of her body, only flaring out at the forearms into shadow-colored tendrils similar to the dress she had worn…before.
The only difference this time being a lack of a crimson, blood-red outline. In its place was a faint white glow, giving the dark bodysuit an iota of contrast.
Over her left breast popped out the miniature Shadow's eyes, symmetrical and six or seven in number. It was a clear indication that it was the outfit that Sakura had donned upon her body.
"U-Uh…" Rin heard Kamijou's stammering. Up to this point, they hadn't really introduced him to Sakura's little friend. "Sakura, you're…"
"I know what it looks like, Kamijou-san." Sakura replied succinctly. Unlike before, her hair hadn't changed a shade— the only blemish was that silvery bang framing the right side of her face, which she probably gave herself as a reminder. "…But I'm completely me this time…with no voice in my head, either. I have you and Senpai to thank for that."
He relented. It was clear that it was a power that Sakura was okay with wielding again…though not without some ground rules that Rin established with her.
"If you ever start feeling not like yourself, let me know, Sakura. Once we're safe, I'll get rid of the mini-Shadow for good."
But for now, it would prove to be a good weapon. Not only did it naturally stave off the cold from Sakura, thanks to the unique properties of the Imaginary Element, but it also granted her some of the abilities she had when contracted with Angra Mainyu.
It was a power of darkness…yet, it wasn't one of evil.
"Time to set your Spirit free, Sakura."
'…Yes. Thank you, Senpai. My spirit's now free…but this is still my power to wield. Mine, and no one else's.'
That's what she and Rin banked on, as the two of them plus Kamijou rushed forward into the blizzard of blood and snow.
xXx
Acqua of the Back was a man of many talents, and power almost unbeholden to anyone.
A warrior born in England; a mercenary whose efforts did not go unnoticed. For a time, he even joined with the Knights of England, and helped in a crisis involving the Third Princess.
From birth, he was given a Stigma: a connection to the Lord that granted him the authority of a Saint. For all intents and purposes, he was a man of the divine: a human, yet inhuman being that rivalled the spirits of the planet itself.
There were only a few-dozen Saints throughout the world. Yet among them…the man known as Acqua of the Back stood even higher than they.
He glanced up, for the full moon above was the reason why his strength was nigh-unrivaled.
Yet at the same time—
"Argh…!"
He grit his teeth as his mace crashed against the Vampire's lance for the umpteenth time, sending pulsating shockwaves that blew away the ice and snow and frost. Their clashes flattened any building that was remotely close to them as the two monstrously strong combatants matched each other blow-for-blow.
"A Saint…there are only twenty of you in the world, correct?" Vlov spoke aloud. "Intriguing."
Acqua kept his mouth firmly shut as he swung his weapon, only for the Knight in black to parry it away.
For the past several minutes or more, neither of them had been able to break each other's guard. For both sides, it was frustrating— but for the one aligned with Gabriel, it was ever more so angering to him.
'…I outclass him in almost every category. Strength, speed, likely durability…and yet…'
He breathed out a cloud of sublimation, which was the sole indicator of why a fight that should have been one-sided in his favor had become dead-even.
The reason was exceedingly simple, yet exceedingly vexing: the cold.
'The Idea Blood he possesses…is potent…'
While he wasn't the most accurate gauge of temperature, Acqua could tell the air around him was far, far, far below freezing, to temperatures that he was certain a middling mage could only last seconds in, let alone a mere human.
The only reason he hadn't fallen apart was due to his innate willpower, and his authorities of the Saint, which granted his body resistance to extremely intense temperatures.
Instead of feeling like he was trapped in an impossible wasteland of ice, to him, it was more akin to a chilly winter's day.
Not impossible to survive in, especially with the exercise that came with combat.
'But if this drags on…'
He shook off his doubts as well as the cold as he thrusted toward the Vampire once more. With simple, yet precise and methodical movements, the enemy dashed backward, evading his strike and riposting forward.
Acqua responds in kind, not letting a single twitch of his muscle go to waste as their gigantic weapons slammed, slashed and crashed against one another. In this wasteland of nothing but walking corpses and falling snow, the only sounds that could be heard were the mingling of hardened steel.
It was a battle of attrition…that Acqua wasn't sure he'd be able to claim victory within.
His authority over water was useless. Any liquid water that was around had frozen over long ago, fallen to the Vampire's control.
He had a considerable speed and strength advantage, that only proved to be shortening the more and more the cold sunk into his skin and began invading his muscles.
'NO! I will not fall! I CANNOT!'
He yelled out, and unleashed a powerful, land-shaking overhead strike. Like usual, the lance of the Vampire was brought up to block.
Their weapons collided like meteors. The ground beneath both of their feet immediately shattered, unable to take the pressure of their clash no longer as the Dead Apostle's feet dug more and more into the frozen dirt.
The earth crumbled, crushing and compressing into the shape of a circular crater as Acqua put nearly all he had into breaking the lance.
He had noticed that the Vampire's weapon wasn't unbreakable; the more they collided, the more tiny shards would fly off the weapon. While the same was true for Acqua's own, his mace's slightly superior length and bulkier build proved to give him some edge whenever they collided.
If he could break the lance, then Vlov Arkhangel's striking range would be useless; allowing Acqua to finally break this stalemate he had dug himself into.
Beneath his mountain-breaking strength, he could see the lance's body was beginning to crack and bend.
Yet an oncoming pressure forced Acqua to relent and release as he instinctively brought his arm up, and an unfathomable, excruciating, piercing cold struck into his forearm.
Gritting his teeth and stifling a groan of pain, he jumped back to gain distance, and quickly observed the wound.
A shard of ice, a meter or less in length, had gotten past his guard and cut straight into his body. For some reason, the authority of his Divine Mother's Mercy hadn't provided him with the durability to negate an attack that was, otherwise, elementary.
"I'm aware of who you are, Acqua of the Back."
Vlov Arkhangel swiped away the foggy cold between them, his expression never changing as he coolly stepped forward. "I am well aware of all of God's Right Seat. You, in particular, have managed to balance two incompatible powers within you with nothing but talent and willpower."
"…"
Acqua said no words, and only lifted up his mace in defiance. In response, and with nothing but widening eyes, similar razor-sharp stalactites of ice formed to existence amongst the freezing cold.
"I heard you were aligned with the Moon…hmph. How amusing."
Vlov raised his arm.
"So are we."
The freezing spears came falling. Acqua grunted as his slashed his mace and threaded the needle through each one, crushing some with his bare hands while smashing others with a swing of his weapon.
Now that he knew their trajectories, preventing them from striking his body was much simpler, but—
'The fact that he has harmed me is…concerning…'
There was only one real theory that came to mind: the cold around him.
Vlov Arkhangel seemed to be able to control the cold itself. He was the sole reason Avignon was under a blizzard. From where they were standing, the temperatures had fallen to levels that were impossible in any natural place on Earth.
In essence, Vlov's Idea Blood was actively slowing Acqua's powers. Just as the lack of heat slows the movement of molecules, so too does the cold slow the acting of magic itself.
Or, better put in other terms: the inhuman, unholy nature of Vlov's powers were a direct antithesis to Acqua's. So, of course, their powers would clash and whittle away at one another.
'The opposite must hold true, then…!'
Breaking through the hail of spears, Acqua charged forward and swung his mace, forcing the Vampire to jump back and parry.
With every advance, he noticed Vlov's movements slowing. Despite his perfect poker face, Acqua could read the pain in the Vampire's eyes. Just as Acqua was affected by the blithering cold, so was he.
'He's not immune to his own powers…'
An exploit that Acqua needed to take advantage of soon, before the ice storm's effects could catch up to him.
"Urgh—!"
He cursed to himself as a stray ice lance shot into his flank, causing him to stumble slightly.
The edges of his vision were beginning to blur. His hands and feet and face were growing ever so quickeningly numb. In the back of his throat, he could taste the sensation of iron.
Without missing a beat, the Saint of Gabriel pushed off with his weakening legs, up high into the sky. His skin hissed in pain as he blew through freezing winds that would instantly freeze nearly any other mage aside from himself.
His one goal: the shining blue moon above, which still remaining visible even underneath all this storm. Glancing down at the earth, he could see the vampire raising his arm, formulating the icy winds into something massive.
He had to strike Vlov down before he could get the chance.
The Saint stopped in mid-air, making sure the Moon silhouetted the outline of his body as he gripped his mace and announced to the monster below:
"THMIMSSP."
(The Holy Mother is merciful and softens severe punishment.)
A divine power coursed through his body as he called upon the celestial body above, to strike down the enemy below.
In his mind, he realized how ironic this was. Just as Acqua derived much of his power from the Moon, so too did Vlov and the Dead Apostles' existence come from it as well.
Though for all intents and purposes, the meaning behind their connection was different. For the Dead Apostles, the Moon was their God.
For Acqua…there was only one.
"BWIMAATH."
(Be wrapped in mercy, and ascend to Heaven.)
The pressure built within his arteries and veins reached its limit. Before it could burst, he shot forward at godspeed.
For a brief moment, he grasped the true power of the Divine, a strike that could render all evil beneath his foot. A spell comparable to the Baptism Rite, converted into the form of an all-encompassing, unavoidable hurtling strike that could render mountains asunder.
All of it— to fall upon an Ancestor of ice.
Acqua held out his mace as a massive, ragged, clear blue glacier burst to life between him and his opponent. Made within seconds, it was obvious that its intention was to be a shield to muffle the damage that Acqua would deal upon the Ancestor.
'But it will not be enough.'
Acqua of the Back hurtled down like a comet.
He grimaced as his mace shattered the hardened, frigid ice like glass, completely obliterating it into shards and vapor as he barreled a hole straight through.
Even surrounded by malice, he would not fall. Even before the hellish cold, he would not crumble.
He was chosen— given strength and blessed by the Divine Mother, and as such, he would stand tall in the face of unholy adversity. All Saints were born in the image of the Son of God; and as such, evil creatures shall be vanquished by their power.
In a tenth of a second, he had turned the town-sized glacier into naught but smithereens. With the power of the Moon, he had overcome humanity's greatest vice.
His attack struck true.
The largest rumble that Avignon's ever felt in its history nearly broke apart its foundations as his attack pummeled into Vlov's body and flattened him to the earth.
Acqua held firm- holding his weapon over the Vampire's body and pushing ever further, aiming to crush his heart.
He grit his teeth. The shattered ice fell around them like rain.
Acqua could feel the temperature around him slowly rising, deducing that Vlov's Idea Blood had been interrupted. His one, determinate, surgical strike had decided this clash of Holy and Unholy.
The Vampire gargled and coughed and sputtered underneath him, gripping the mace with torn, gloved hands as he tried in vain to rip it off his body.
But Acqua did not falter. Just a few more, short moments, and he will have slain one of the Twenty-Seven…something he failed to accomplish three years ago.
'This is my chance…to repent for that mistake.'
In that burning, hopeless village, he was only able to salvage the life of one human. While he possessed immense strength, the chance of him standing up to multiple Ancestors was something he couldn't take the chance with, especially with an innocent in his hands.
But now, on this day, three years later, in a French town not too far from that village, was a chance to make up for his sin.
Just taking one of their lives would set them back decades, possibly even centuries. With that thought in mind, he pushed ever harder.
The Vampire roared, loud as a vengeful lion. Its pain was a relief to Acqua's frosted ears.
Every single fraction of his strength poured into crushing Vlov Arkhangel's heart, and putting down the cursed immortal for good.
So of course, in his struggle,
He was just a smidge too late,
To notice the same Vampire's hand burn to life with an ethereal blue, and explode in a torrent of impossibly hot flame that overwhelmed his body and soul.
xXx
Just earlier…
Avignon was a wasteland.
Devoid of life aside from the undead, Touma Kamijou wasn't even sure if microorganisms were still clinging to life in temperatures that would make the most extremophile life succumb to the cold.
The winds howled like wolves against his ears, as if warning him that passing any further would turn him into naught but a memory.
Against nature's wishes, however, he and the two Tohsaka sisters behind him pressed forward.
At their flanks, only a handful of Amakusa Christians walked with them, most dressed in multiple layers of clothing to try their best to stave away the cold. Tatemiya Saiji was among them— though his slightly clattering teeth and shaking limbs were a clear sign that he was reaching his limit.
"You can go back if you need to, you know." Rin pointed out. "It's probably nearing fifty below around here."
He gave her a silent nod, before quickly pivoting around as a groan of a conscious corpse emerged from the icy fog.
It reached out with grey, cracked clawed nails, only for the Supreme Pontiff to strike first and skewer the inhuman through the center of its chest.
Oddly enough, they hadn't encountered many Dead Apostles on their trek through the ever-colder, town-turned-tundra. Rin had theorized that it was because the cold itself— likely created by Vlov or some other powerful vampire accomplice— was harmful to weaker Apostles, and many had succumbed to it the same as all of the other life.
They took it as a small miracle, and kept pressing forward. At this point, they were within two kilometers of the Palais des Papes— which they all doubted was still standing.
'Ciel's in here somewhere. Itsuwa, too…we have to keep…moving on…'
Kamijou wiped the sweat from his brow, which immediately flung into the air and became tiny ice crystals that pitter-pattered the frozen dirt. In her haste, Rin hadn't completely tuned and adjusted the Mystic Codes they were wearing, so Kamijou's own jacket was emitting a bit more heat than he was comfortable with. Even in a winter hell, he felt like he was walking through a summer park.
'That's not a good thing, though.' He thought. 'It's keeping me alive, but it's giving off more heat than it's supposed to…so my time limit's probably shorter than we'd have hoped.'
He sighed, his breath sublimating into clouds. He wanted to cross his arms, but any contact of his right hand upon his jacket would probably destroy the entire spell, so he made sure to keep it pocketed and away from his upper clothing.
It wouldn't be much farther, anyway. They had made it over halfway. At this point, it was so far below zero that Touma wasn't sure if any other Apostles aside from Vlov himself would make themselves known.
There surely wasn't any ordinary life within the storm, either.
Which is why it surprised them when, past the clouded air and icy winds, he spotted something that shouldn't exist in a land this freezing.
"…is that a…?" Touma muttered. Something just beyond them, faint yet existing, was glowing dimly.
He glanced at the two Tohsaka sisters. They were as apprehensive as he was.
Without a doubt, a fire was burning in an environment where no fire should. Considering that one of Vlov Arkhangel's powers seemed to be the manipulation of flame, he steeled his will and balled his right hand, stepping in front of the two Tohsaka.
He glanced behind them. Despite being much less better-off than they were, the few Amakusa Christians still remaining kept their hardy gaze as they readied their polearms and swords and axes. Tatemiya narrowed his eyes, lifting his sword from his shoulder.
The fire seemed to be getting closer. Through the haze, Touma noticed that the fire wasn't just hovering on its own: it seemed to be connected to a metal rod, or perhaps a sword.
'Vlov had a sword too, so…'
He raised his guard.
Just as the voice of the fire's wielder called out to them.
"…Aide…moi…"
He blinked. Stunned, just for a second. 'That sounded like a girl—'
"S'il…vous…plaît…"
In his stunned silence, he watched from the corner of his eye as a certain crimson mage sprinted ahead of him. Only when she was out of reach, did Kamijou break from his trance and realized that—
'It could be a trap!'
"Wait, Tohsaka—!"
She ignored Kamijou's warning as she rushed forward to meet whoever was pleading in the fog.
Quickly, the source of the voice came into view. Upon meeting eyes, Rin's guard softened, just a little.
"…You are…" Rin muttered, translated into a language the girl could understand. She lifted her small blonde head, which, for some mysterious, unknown reason, showed no sign of injury.
'In fact, her entire body isn't hurt. How…?'
Despite her only article of clothing being a torn nightgown, none of her extremities, nor her exposed neck or face showed any signs of frostbite. Her stable breath and non-pale skin also made it clear she wasn't suffering from hypothermia, either.
Ignoring the superficial signs, Rin lowered down into a squat to meet the young girl's gaze. "…Are you hurt? What's your name?"
"…No…and…" She breathed. "I…Mom…"
Her breath grew shaky. Upon hearing her plead for her mother, a distant voice called out in the back of her own conscience.
"Rin? Where are you, Rin? Oh, you're behind me, that's right. Now, could you please tell me whose funeral it is? It's such a tragedy, but I just can't figure it out…maybe we should ask your father?"
'…'
"Hey, hey, it's okay. Face up, I got you."
Carefully, Rin picked up the young lady in her arms. Despite the hellish winter around them, she felt natural and warm. "…This sword is keeping you warm, isn't it?"
She nodded as they both looked at the blade the girl was holding tightly in her tiny hands. Rin immediately recognized it as a Crimson Black Key, a conceptual weapon created by the Holy Church. Furthermore, the flame coating the silver blade from cross-guard to tip seemed to radiate a magical energy that wrapped around the girl's whole body: making not just a barrier from the elements, but a holy shield to ward away any nearby Dead Apostles.
It was clear the girl didn't just have such an item in her possession, so Rin decided to give her a gentle interrogation.
"Do you know who gave it to you?"
"…n-no…but…they were gentle and kind, like…you…"
"I see. Were they a boy, or a girl?"
"…A boy."
"I see."
'It's just a theory, but…'
Somewhere around here, a member of the Holy Church, or perhaps multiple, were searching through the blizzard for survivors same as they were. She was surprised to find out that they hadn't run into any on their trek toward the heart of Avignon, but she chalked it up to there being too few people in a town too large.
She turned on her heels, the young survivor in arms as she returned to Kamijou and the others.
"…Looks like it's not just us in this storm." Rin said. She glanced down at the girl, only to find out that she had already fallen asleep; perhaps the exhaustion of walking so much had finally caught up to her.
"Do you know who gave her that sword?" Kamijou asked. "Seems like that's why she's not hurt…"
Rin shook her head. "It's not important right now, anyway. There's a chance we might run into other Church members, but considering we haven't so far, I'm not sure. In any case…"
She handed her off to Tatemiya. "You guys head back; it's getting too intense. Make sure she doesn't let go of that Black Key, either."
"You got it." Tatemiya nodded. At his signal, the few remaining Amakusa Christians began making their way out of the storm. "…and please. Bring Itsuwa back. Your friend, too."
As if on cue, the four of them stumbled as a rumble emanated from the heart of the frozen town.
Just past this storm, powerful forces were colliding their wills against one another. If there were ever a more critical time to recover their friends, it had to be now.
Quickly parting from the last of the Amakusans, Rin took in a deep breath.
'Stay focused. We saved one. Now we have to save the others.'
"Let's go, Kamijou. Sakura."
And to the storm they marched once again.
xXx
When his eyes popped back open, Accelerator found himself hurtling through the air like a ragdoll.
He spun, tumbled, and twisted toward the Earth. For a brief moment, between the ringing in his ears and the blaring wind screaming past his face, he couldn't tell what was up from what was down.
Realizing his Ability Mode was still active, he took the chance to extend his arms and legs, forcibly controlling the immediate air currents around his body.
He spun around, only to realize—
'…Dammit—!'
The dark green forest of the French wilderness was dangerously close to him. He was going to be unharmed regardless, since his Reflection would get rid of any damage that the crash would give him, but he'd rather not make a huge crash and give away his location in the process.
With split-second thinking, the One-Way Road grit his teeth as he twisted the winds around him to formulate at his back. Two sets of tornado-force wings billowed, immediately propelling him upward and halting his fall in a second flat.
He heard the great rustle of trembling branches and leaves behind him. Judging by the fact that the mountains in the distance didn't look like the size of ants anymore, Accelerator deduced he must be only a few dozen meters above the earth.
Or, in other terms, only a blink-of-an-eye away from being a red stain on the forest floor, if he hadn't woken up in time.
Which, speaking of, brought him to the biggest, most important question of this already shitty day:
'What the fuck hit me?'
He peered around, this time with ten times the amount of scrutiny. Aside from the still-falling pieces of debris from the Academy City bombers that had been mysteriously shot down, nothing looked out of the ordinary.
Looking back to the seconds before he had temporarily lost consciousness, however, Accelerator knew that there was something in the sky…that really shouldn't be.
'Seriously. I think that was a fucking pirate ship. Or…something like that.'
He had spotted it floating maybe three or four hundred meters away from where he was falling. A massive sea vessel: likely made from wood, with towering masts and unfurled sails, complete with gunports, a rudder, and flags with insignias that he couldn't exactly make out or remember what it looked like.
It was…quite the sight. He almost convinced himself that he was crazy for seeing something so nonsensical thousands of meters up in the air.
'No. I saw it. That ship was…real. Somehow.'
His eyes narrowed. Of course, he couldn't simply throw away the idea that sometimes, the impossible was possible.
The just-passed Holy Grail War was the biggest example. A wish-granting cup? Servants that fought for him, and against other Servants?
'Not to mention, Rider's chariot could fly, too…'
He had to take that ship as real. And if it was real, then there was only one explanation of what happened to the bombers.
'The ship shot them down.' He resolved in his mind.
The next thought was purely conjecture.
'…Shit.'
Without those crafts, finding a way back to Academy City was going to be a hassle and a half. He figured that that place had already taken note of the lost bombers, however, and were probably scrambling reinforcements at that very second.
But for now, he was stuck at a crossroads— which was ironic, considering his nickname.
'Do I move on to Avignon to complete the mission, or…?'
He looked over to the iced-over town. Following the Rhône river, he had found himself in a woods several kilometers away from Avignon itself, which still persisted underneath what looked to be an icy, hazy blizzard that even he could feel a little from here.
He could attempt to move in and continue with the task he was assigned— or he could call the destruction of the Academy City bombers a failure, and simply wait until help arrived. He felt his phone still in his pocket, so he could easily just call it in and call it a day.
'…Agh. Fine, whatever.'
He leaned toward the iced-over town with a neutral resolution. In his mind, he could imagine a certain supersonic Servant reprimanding him sternly.
"You just gonna run away and not try to fight, Master?"
Rider had a point. If there were still some things he could do, then he'd do it. Finding out what was causing that storm, and especially what had shot them down, were the highest priorities at the moment.
He could rest on his laurels later.
For now, he needed to see his first overseas mission to the end.
"Oh-ho?"
The One-Way Road stopped in his tracks as a voice he didn't recognize spoke aloud from above.
He spun around faster than a dreidel as he felt that same, intense, overwhelming pressure from before barrel toward him. The same attack that had struck directly into him, somehow bypassing his Reflection, and knocked him out cold.
This time, with more preparation, he forced his tornado wings the opposite direction, blasting backward several meters in the time of a hummingbird's wing flap.
The pressure subsided. Narrowly, he had escaped another disaster.
Below, he heard the crashing and crumbling of the wildlife as the attack dug into the earth with enough power to turn the toughest of trees into the tiniest of splinters.
That wasn't what he was worried about, though.
Accelerator locked eyes with, similar to him, a male dressed in white. A neatly pressed Victorian, or perhaps Elizabethan tunic tucked firmly behind a set of snow-colored dress pants.
"Ah, you dodged it. Quite the reflexes you have there…Accelerator." The man confidently swung his right arm outward, causing the white, one-sided cape on his shoulder to flow gallantly as Accelerator sensed another oncoming, unblockable strike.
In a dash, the Esper jerked sideways, feeling the shockwave skate just by his skin as he skidded to a halt and continued his glaring.
Upon finally taking in the fact that his own alias had been spoken back to him, the Esper's first internal response was one of jaded disdain.
'Oh, well that's just great. Another asshole who somehow knows me.'
It seemed as if his name was wider-known than just the confines of Academy City. Considering the same said city touts him as their strongest current creation, it wasn't exactly elementary to figure out why.
"So what's it to you?" The Level 5 shot back. "I'm assuming you're the asshole who shot us down?"
The man in white blinked. His silvery-green hair flowed ominously past the crimson in his eyes. "Assume what you want, and think whatever you desire. I'm not at liberty to tell."
'That's a pretty nice way of saying he's not gonna say shit.' Accelerator presumed.
"The only thing you have to know, Accelerator, is that I will not let you anywhere near that town. If you would like to enter Avignon…"
He brought his hand up…
"…You'll have to come through me."
…and snapped his fingers.
On cue, and in a dull flash, Accelerator winced as something massive made itself known in the local airspace.
Towering masts, unfurled sails. Lacquered, reinforced and layered wooden walls that acted as its armor, yet light enough to float above water.
A 17th century warship appeared high in the sky, a spectacle unbeknownst to all of modern humankind.
Despite the white-garbed man's show of force, it did confirm at least one thing in Accelerator's mind.
'He is definitely the one that attacked the bombers. And if that's the case…'
The Esper readied himself. Despite his status as Academy City's strongest, that title only ever applied to one place. Outside, in the wider world, he was aware that the totem pole of strength was a lot more chaotic, and may even be above his own pay grade.
Even so, if he could defeat this man, then not only could he finally figure out what was going on in Avignon, but—
'…I can maybe find out who's behind all this, through him.'
The man in white bowed, preparing himself to deliver an awe-inspiring, stunning performance. "I understand that that name of yours— Accelerator, is not your actual name. So as such, I will be honorable and give an alias of mine."
"Honorable?" Accelerator scoffed. He hated the concept of chivalry, but he also could call out bullshit when he saw it. " You wanna talk about honor when you're the one who potshotted planes out of the sky?"
"…" The man's red eyes glinted, as he willfully ignored Accelerator's backtalk and continued without a missing beat.
"I go by Stratovarius. You'll be wise to remember that name, Accelerator."
"…Piss off, already."
The One-Way Road bursted forward, breaking the sound barrier in an instant.
In response, the man of Stratovarius closed his palm.
And at his command, the cannons upon his gunship fired like thunder.
xXx
When the Saint of Gabriel had launched that unblockable, unstoppable strike from the Moon above, Vlov Arkhangel had already been in internal and external torture.
His Idea Blood was Freezing. The ability to suck the heat out of anything, and to have absolute dominance over the cold.
Like any Idea Blood, or otherwise known as a Hemonomic Principle, his was potent, and when used correctly, would drastically increase the Ancestor's odds of winning to nearly be guaranteed. After all, the Twenty-Seven Ancestors stood at the pinnacle of the world of Mystery— individual, sovereign kingdoms that have not been toppled in hundreds, or even thousands of years.
They were fit to rule mankind.
Or, in Vlov's case, his master was.
Now gripping the Saint of Gabriel by the neck, and releasing burning blue flames all around their bodies, Vlov remembered why the power he wielded was not yet meant for a man like him.
'Cold…cold…cold…!'
Everything was cold. Despite his Principle's overwhelming strength, he was not immune to its effects. While he could not succumb to the frost, he felt the same pain as any other living being that fell under his icy blizzard.
At the center, and unleashing enough ice and cooling the local area down to the point where atomic particles could barely even move, Vlov wanted nothing more than just to die.
In some ways, he felt like he was deserving of such a fate. He had struck down his master without honor— and because he was deceived to do so, by a slithering, slimy snake that he hoped to burn, burn, burn, BURN—!
"GRAHH!"
Vlov Arkhangel roared, doubling the power of his flames that coiled around Acqua's body and dug straight into the man's life force. While the orange fire he produced was natural, the blue was exclusive to affecting living things alone— it literally sucks the life and heat from Vlov's target, making the flame grow ever brighter.
Even though his Principle was Freezing, he could use fire as an unintentional side-effect, developed thanks to the inefficient and unstable use of his power. After all, he was a man not fit to carry the strength he held, but he had spent the last centuries carrying it anyway.
Usually, he would use his fire against his enemies first, then reveal his ice as a trump card. But for Acqua, who only ever witnessed the use of his cold, the revelation of his flames came just a moment too late.
"…I will…not…let…you…!"
Yet even with Vlov depriving Acqua of the warmth of his body, the Saint proved to be a foe not-so-easily tethered.
Acqua grabbed at Vlov's wrist, pressing down with the might of a thousand lions as he willed his all into releasing the vampire's grip upon his body.
Vlov growled. The willpower his enemy encompassed was not to be trifled, yet with the blizzard around them fading due to his Principle's use being relinquished, strength and warmth was returning to his limbs, as well.
A stalemate between the two occurred once more. Acqua's superior, yet waning strength matched Vlov's inferior, yet warming body.
Just like their previous clash, something had to give.
One of their wills would crumble, proving the other the victor.
"HEY!"
Or perhaps, a certain right hand would break their test of strength first.
Vlov grunted as a surge of mana-injected light crashed into his flank. The pain shot through his body, blurring his vision and stunning him enough for his fingers to loosen.
Acqua grit his teeth, steady consciousness coming back to him as he kicked off the dazed vampire in naught but adrenaline and collapsed onto the icy ground. Despite Vlov's ice powers no longer being active, its aftereffects were still present.
He groaned as he hit the floor. His body felt way too cold— those flames hadn't done physical damage, but were more of a spiritual attack that sucked away the heat of his very soul.
It was an attack that would take much more time, with a different kind of treatment, to fully recover from.
He watched as Vlov seemed to shake off that beam of mana, and hastily unsheathed his cleaver-like sword to strike him down where he lay.
It would be an unceremonious death in this position, but Acqua wasn't sure if the vampire was even thinking straight anymore. After all, they were, at their core, inhuman and chaotic creatures.
Unable to lift up his arm in time, all Acqua of the Back could really do was watch as the sword came driving down—
— and a head of lilac rose up to save him.
A girl, dressed in black, seemed to spawn from nothing between Vlov and Acqua as she extended her arms and wrapped black, voidal tendrils around the vampire's sword.
Vlov growled in frustration, but the girl remained steadfast as she swiped her arm effortlessly.
And to his surprise, the vampire could not defend as the black arms flung their body like a ragdoll, tumbling them through fallen debris and ice and snow.
Acqua of the Back rose up to his feet, focusing on keeping steady as he heard two more pairs of footsteps rush over to his side.
"…Imagine…Breaker…" He muttered. "Touma Kamijou…why have you come here?"
He glared at the spiky-haired teenager, whose regular face and demeanor screamed of someone who shouldn't be in a situation like this.
And yet, Touma Kamijou put his foot down anyway. "To save as many as we can. And that…that includes you. You're Acqua of the Back, right? Even if you are our enemy, I think—"
"The Dead Apostles are worse, hm?" Acqua finished for him. "…That, I can at least agree upon."
The Saint looked at the two young women accompanying Kamijou. While he had been briefed on Touma Kamijou's appearance, he had not been informed very much of his allies.
Luckily, they seemed willing enough to introduce themselves before he could ask. "Rin Tohsaka."
"…Sakura. Sakura Tohsaka. We're Kamijou-san's friends." The lavender-haired girl explained. "…Tell me, Acqua: was Terra of the Left your ally?"
Acqua spotted the rubble that Vlov had fallen into had begun to stir, so he kept his answer short. "…Merely colleagues. I wouldn't consider him an ally, much less a friend."
"…I see." Sakura muttered. "…I won't judge you the way I judged him. He was messing with people's minds…that's something I can't accept."
"Indeed. I never fully agreed with his methods either. But for right now…"
The four of them winced as the pile of snow and rock and debris burst up and outward, leaving a certain Nineteenth Ancestor standing steadfast at its epicenter.
"Looks like the time for chit-chat's over." Rin said. She lifted her arm, growing a crimson black, magical sphere at her fingertips while reaching into her pocket for another set of gems. "Acqua…I understand the organization you're a part of to be evil. A friend of ours told us as much. But…for now, are you willing to partner with us?"
The former Knight of England took in a breath, and rose to his feet. By pure, sheer willpower, he shook off the coldness in his body as he resolved to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with those that, perhaps in other circumstances, he would be standing against.
'Especially Touma Kamijou.' Acqua thought. '…I must see to it soon that his Right Hand be handed over to us.
But for now…this monster takes priority.'
Vlov Arkhangel, student of the great Zaria Offenbaum, raised his flaming hand. The fire around him burst to life, swirling in a strange mix of natural orange and deadly azure.
At the Vampire's hands, the whole town of Avignon had experienced a permafrost winter.
Now, it was time to demonstrate to his enemies the might of hellish fire.
xXx
…
…
…
…Somewhere underneath the warming ice.
Underneath piles upon piles of dirt and rock. Underneath crumbling infrastructure that thousands of people used to call work, or home, or the comfort of religious protection.
Underneath the bodies of thousands of lost lives— whether they be unmoving in the ice, or walking aimlessly in the wastelands…
…Underneath all of that, lay a single body. Unlike the greyish, lifeless snow around her, her ocean-blue hair still remained its vibrancy.
The Palace of Popes had collapsed atop her, its walls unable to handle the force of the battles just outside, let alone the tempestuous blizzard.
She had been buried underneath a miniature mountain. Tons of material lay upon her back. For any human, or even a mage, this would be the end of their line.
Deader than dead. Complete with a burial site and a cross for a gravestone.
…
…
And yet, despite all of that. Despite the intense, nigh-absolute zero cold that had ended her life, over and over. Despite the constant torment that must have been lasting for hours…
"…Nn…"
A single, tiny twitch of her finger once again sparked a life that was cursed to never disappear.
Next Chapter:
"Knighthood" (November 7th)