Rumble rumble...
The roar of the supersonic engines had already become inaudible within the soundproofed, sealed cabin of the aircraft. Only a faint vibration remained, subtly echoing in his ears. Kamijou Touma sat on a foldable seat, eyeing the other passengers in this ridiculously extreme supersonic stealth bomber.
Every one of the passengers wore a uniform, full-body armored suit, their heads covered by masks and heavy ski-goggle-style night vision gear. All of them were tall, muscular, and built like tanks.
Not Anti-Skill.
Kamijou Touma made that judgment instantly.
In addition, there were the familiar armed robot units. At the center of the cabin were hundreds of manned powered exosuits covered in specialized armor.
Locked into place within the cabin, each was about 2.5 meters tall, armored from head to toe—even their fingers. The vertically cylindrical heads were particularly large, and the expanded chest plating made them look like oversized, cylindrical Anti-Skill robots.
Heavy Powered Exosuit Units.
While not as commonly seen on city streets as the standard armed robots, Kamijou recognized them.
But unlike those used in Academy City for policing—equipped only with SMGs, shotguns, grenade launchers, rockets, and portable anti-tank missiles—these exosuits were clearly meant for high-intensity military warfare.
Rotary wall-breaching shotguns, at least .50 caliber Vulcan Gatlings, ultra-high-pressure cryogenic nitrogen water cutters, twin Hive missile launchers, heavy recoilless rifles...
Not to mention experimental weapons developed from research into the abilities of espers, such as an energy projector based on the Level 5 Mugino Shizuri's Meltdowner, known to output in both lead projectile and 'Meltdowner' modes, and a recreation of the Level 5 Misaka Mikoto's Railgun.
Among them were also weaponized experimental units developed using Selene's 'harmless' Honkai energy. Clearly, rather than fiddling endlessly in their labs, it was better to bring every prototype that passed safety checks and test them in real conditions. They were all logged. Even if they were lost, no one would care.
Armed to the teeth was an understatement.
Even someone as unfamiliar with the arms market as Kamijou Touma could tell these were weapons designed with one goal: to completely annihilate the enemy.
And every single one bore the same insignia—a silver mechanical gear with wings.
Schicksal Group.
Kamijou Touma was still deep in thought when, accompanied by the heavy thud of approaching footsteps, a buzz-cut man walked up to him. On the final step, he sharply tapped Kamijou's heel, letting out a crisp snap.
"Mr. Kamijou, five minutes until we reach the Strait of Malacca—Banda Aceh Base."
The man appeared to be in his early thirties, with a dusky complexion and vaguely Western features. He was tall and broad, and though his body fat seemed high at a glance, the powerful muscles beneath were faintly visible. That aura of bloodlust earned from years of crawling through battlefields—he was no saint.
He looked like just another ordinary high schooler, nothing worth noting. But if it was Selene's order, then as a Schicksal employee, he wouldn't question it. Just follow through. Offering what he believed to be a friendly smile, he nodded and continued:
"Because Banda Aceh Base is a frontline fortress guarding the chokepoint between the Indian and Pacific Oceans—a critical route to Academy City—the base was recently bombarded by the Roman Orthodox Church's so-called 'Holy War' fleet. The airfield was severely damaged and is currently unfit for landing."
With that, the man tossed a parachute pack at Kamijou Touma.
"So, Mr. Kamijou, in five minutes, we will all be executing an airborne operation. That includes your companions. Is that acceptable?"
"N-no... no problem."
This was something he had insisted on joining (at least in his mind), so even if high-altitude drops were no picnic, Kamijou Touma didn't complain.
After all, Kamijou Touma glanced through the armored panel at the surrounding status displayed by the aircraft's external holographic feed. With a wingspan easily exceeding a hundred meters, this was without doubt a massive beast. Unless it was a dedicated military runway, there were few civilian airports in the world that could withstand the force and deceleration impact of its landing.
HsB-series supersonic stealth bomber, nearly a hundred meters in length—more specifically between 80 and 100 meters depending on the model. With a top speed of 7000 km/h, it could outpace anti-air missiles simply by flying straight. It served as both a transport and a carrier of specialized bombs capable of destroying deep-underground facilities.
"I'm so hungry, Touma—"
Just as Kamijou Touma was hastily strapping on his parachute pack and repeatedly checking the harness for security, he was interrupted by the silver-haired nun beside him, who grumbled with a growling stomach and nudged him impatiently.
"So hungry... Why is there no restaurant in such a huge space? Just these annoying metal cans everywhere." Index glared at the humanoid armed robots towering around her.
Those hunks of metal had caused her no small amount of grief. Back when she first arrived in Academy City, lacking registered identity information, she'd been caught by patrolling security robots and dragged to a Judgment substation for pressing random buttons on a vending machine out of sheer hunger—charged with attempted vandalism. She'd been lectured all afternoon!
"You're the one who insisted on coming along! And how did you people even sneak on board?!"
Having secured the parachute's straps, Kamijou Touma flared up, raising his hands to the sky in exasperation. "This isn't playtime—it's war! How could you bring Index along?!"
"Uuu..."
Index's eyes dulled as she pouted, collapsing onto the bench and monopolizing nearly an entire row of foldable seats. Next to her, dressed in a black priest's robe, Stiyl Magnus wore a look of helplessness tinged with fondness as he set down the battle report from Academy City.
"Could we have stopped her?" he muttered under his breath.
There was a trace of bitterness in his tone.
Nearby, dressed in non-mainstream, outdated denim jeans and a plain white T-shirt, Kanzaki Kaori rested her over-two-meter-long Japanese nodachi across her thighs and let out a deep breath.
"You should know how attached Index is to you. The moment she realized you were gone from the shelter, she insisted I go find you..." As she spoke, a faint smile appeared on Kanzaki Kaori's graceful face. "Still, I'm not surprised. You actually went to Selene and requested to join the fight."
"Since Stiyl and I are members of Necessarius, we were already heading to the front line to fight the Roman Orthodox Church. Seeing that you had a private aircraft ready, we just tagged along. Saved time."
That was Kanzaki's explanation.
"Still... ugh, fine. Complaining now is pointless. Index, listen—don't run off. Don't act impulsively."
Rubbing his spiky black hair tiredly, Kamijou Touma held his forehead. He gave up—he was used to this. Looking at Index's doll-like, childlike face, he spoke seriously.
"Mmm hmm hmm!"
Seeing that Kamijou wasn't mad anymore, Index's green eyes sparkled as she nodded eagerly.
Grrr~
As her stomach let out another grumble, Kamijou sighed and pulled out some chocolate biscuits from his pocket—an emergency staple.
Bit by bit, he fed them into Index's small mouth, and she obediently munched on them. From the fluid motion, this was clearly far from the first time.
The whole scene looked exactly like someone feeding a stray kitten or puppy—prompting Stiyl and Kanzaki to exchange a sweat-dropped glance.
Seeing Kanzaki Kaori's half-smiling expression, Stiyl cleared his throat. "Let's get to the real topic," he said, raising the Academy City war report in his hand. Since it wasn't classified, he placed it in the storage rack behind the foldable seat, open for anyone to read.
"Did you see the Russian Orthodox Church's offensive? Classic all bark and no bite. They launched multiple ballistic missiles from every possible angle, sent submarines to blockade the Japanese archipelago, bombed from the air, and even dispatched mercenaries with military backgrounds recruited online to sabotage the outskirts of Academy City..."
"It looked intense. The destroyed equipment cost a fortune. But where's the magical combat force? The Russian Orthodox Church's pride—their magic army and tank-like ground forces—barely made a dent."
"If it hadn't been for the North American coalition crossing the Bering Strait to invade western Siberia, this would've devolved into a sit-in war."
Snap—a flick of the fingers lit his cigarette. Stiyl took a deep drag.
"But on the Elizarina Alliance front... The Slavs, driven by their natural hunger for expansion, were the first to declare war on Academy City. Yet their actual attack direction focused on Eastern Europe—on the Elizarina Alliance and similar nations."
The Russian Orthodox Church's ulterior motives were loud and clear.
Swallow the Elizarina Alliance, push further into Eastern Europe, and while the EU still hesitated due to Roman Orthodox pressure—as nominal allies—claim more fertile land. Why not?
The countries of Eastern Europe were small and weak. Russia even had documented historical claims to those lands—"since ancient times"—stretching as far as East Prussia. Restoring the glory days of the Slavic Tsarist Empire wasn't a dream.
Create a fait accompli. Isn't that more profitable than butting heads with Academy City?
And as for allies? Weren't allies made to be used?
Ahem—see how much we've lost to Academy City: cutting-edge weapons and elite infiltration forces. You know full well Siberia's terrain isn't suited for massive troop movements. So it's not that we didn't try. Honestly, we did our part.
Of course Kanzaki Kaori saw through all of it. She wasn't some naïve child.
"Everyone has their own agenda. But Vento of the Front should have retreated to the Roman Orthodox punitive fleet. This time, we must make sure she stays..."
Just then—whoosh—!
"Attention all personnel. We've reached the drop zone. Good luck. Victory to you."
The mechanical voice came over the speakers. Stiyl stubbed out his cigarette and quickly strapped on his parachute pack. He wasn't Kanzaki Kaori—he didn't have a Saint's constitution. He wouldn't survive a freefall.
The aircraft's speed clearly decreased. Kamijou Touma looked out the window. Due to the angle, he could only see the brown curve of the horizon—unable to discern their exact location. As they descended, he noticed the ground was pocked with countless craters.
The next moment—click!
RUMBLE—!
The instant the hatch opened, blinding firelight surged skyward. The sudden glare stung Kamijou Touma's eyes, bringing tears to them uncontrollably.
As the light faded, he finally saw the harsh conditions awaiting them on the front lines. The city surrounding Banda Aceh Base had been reduced to rubble.
On the scarred coastline, flattened fireballs rose one after another. Shockwaves spread outward in white concentric rings, shattering rock and kicking up thick plumes of smoke.
The roar of artillery was deafening. Streams of light streaked across the sky, thunder cracked, and dazzling flashes burst across the battlefield.
Kamijou Touma's brows furrowed deeper as he took in the burning harbor and the crumbling fortress defense ring outside the window. The stench of fuel and gunpowder drifted in with the wind, sharp and choking.
In the middle of the modern steel warships, a single frost-covered vessel stood out—strikingly conspicuous.
It resembled a medieval sailboat, yet its size was far beyond anything from that era. The entire hull, from mast to sails to rigging, was frozen solid. Under the glow of bombardment, it gleamed faintly white, like a luminous bulb. Wherever it passed, the sea turned to ice.
A song of ice and fire.
The land burned, while the sea within sight filled with drifting ice. The longer time passed, the thicker the ice became. Even near the equator, the sky began brewing a snowstorm under its influence.
"Prepare to jump!"
...
Night winds from the Mediterranean swept into the Apennine Peninsula, dispelling the day's heat and bringing a crisp chill to the night.
It was now around midnight Roman time.
In Rome, daily life continued as if unaffected by the onset of world war. Even after dark, the city's solemn antiquity gave way to intoxicating lights and indulgent pleasures.
The Apennine people had every reason to feel secure. In the north, the Anglo-Saxons were held back by the French. To the east, the Slavic bear was an ally. Greedy or not, the distances of Eastern, Central, and Southern Europe made them feel safe.
Academy City? The Americas? Those were halfway around the world. It was like holding a perfect hand in poker—what could possibly beat it?
Vatican City, Saint Peter's Square.
Patrolling through the sacred halls, a cleric on night duty walked past the obelisk in the center of the square, his posture relaxed and routine. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
After all, this was the Vatican!
"Omniscient and almighty Lord, grant us victory in this holy war..."
Standing reverently before the obelisk, he closed his eyes in prayer. But... huh? Why does the sky look a little bright?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
40 Advanced Chapters Available on Patreon:
Patreon.com/DaoOfHeaven