You Call Me a Clown?
Drip. Drip.
Humiliation.
The saintess felt the clods of earth tumbling out of her hair.
"Are you awake?"
The man she had thought unconscious. The man with a devil's tongue. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, looking down at her.
"I only did it because I thought you might enjoy it. Well? How was it?"
"It was not pleasant."
"Wasn't it? My own head was swinging back and forth. I got dizzy."
The phantom thief bent a little at the waist, bringing his eyes level with the saintess, who had only lifted her head. The mask filled her vision.
"How long do you mean to lie there? Sleep on the ground like that and your mouth will set crooked."
Soft. Supple. Like a butterfly drifting from leaf to leaf, the words slipped secretly into her ear.
"If the saintess takes ill, the faithful who sacrificed themselves for you will weep. They won't rest easy even in the next world."
The butterfly circled her ear, fluttered, and settled with the lightest touch.
Brr.
Its wings trembled and scattered pollen. The pollen was poison. Words — a lethal poison.
"Wouldn't that be a pity? Stand up bravely, tidy yourself, and come have a cozy little date with me."
The saintess rose slowly. Soil clinging to her body sifted away in a dry shower. She brought her eyes level with the mask.
"That tongue of yours simply does not know how to stop."
She worked a technique so she would not be bewitched by it.
Fwoosh.
She burned her ears along with the butterfly, abandoning one of her five senses.
Eeeeeee.
A sense that had companioned her all her life vanished. It was as if her hands and feet had been cut away.
"………"
The phantom thief rummaged through his coat.
"Such a pretty face, and now it's wounded."
"………!"
She was certain she heard nothing. Then how—
He wiped her ear with a handkerchief. The hand reached in so secretly that her reaction came late.
Swipe. Swipe.
Blood gone black, and dead skin, fouled the cloth.
"There. Better now, isn't it?"
"What?"
The saintess startled at her own voice. She could hear it — the voice she had always heard. A trembling hand rose. Clean ear met her fingers.
A shiver. The fine hairs stood on end.
"What are you?"
The phantom thief's mask drew a gentle curve.
"Come to think of it, I never introduced myself."
He dipped his head, just a little.
"I am an ordinary phantom thief, the sort you find anywhere. Please, feel free to call me Phantom."
"Ordinary? A phantom thief?"
Ha! A man who stood on two straight legs before an apostle of a god, and he called himself an ordinary phantom thief?
"This is becoming tiresome."
She had crossed one mountain only to find another waiting. The harsher the trial, the sweeter the reward — and yet they kept tumbling out like the layers of an onion, and her spirit was wearing thin.
"My apologies. If circumstances had been kinder, I would have offered you a show…… Won't we meet again later? I'll give you a special performance, free of charge."
"I have no need of it."
She did not want to be near this madman for even a single second.
"You die here."
Thud.
Behind her back a massive axe took shape, twice the height of a grown man.
"You will never sleep beneath the eclipse. You will suffer for eternity."
The white sun that had been interfering was gone. Now the sanctuary would awaken in full, and she would show him the radiance of a god.
Creeping. Seeping. The canvas of the world was painted black. The drab earth became a black sea, and the rain-heavy clouds vanished. Even the saintess was painted black.
She felt a fullness rising in her.
This is a sanctuary!
The authority of a great god. Another dimension entirely. Was a god's embrace this snug? Here, she felt she would lose to no one. Not the Temple Knights. Not those madmen from China. Not even that Captain Earth.
Ah. At last I have become a true apostle.
Eclipse God. Your lowly servant has finally set her foot forward. Foolish and unworthy, I took my time. Please look upon me with warm eyes. I offer this glory to you.
"Beneath the eclipse, you say……"
While the saintess trembled in rapture, words slipped into her ear.
"How……?"
He shouldn't have been able to do anything inside the sanctuary. Doubt made no difference. The phantom thief walked toward her, the eclipse — the only source of light — at his back.
"Saintess. Whatever do you mean?"
A crack ran through his mask. The mask that had seemed as if it would never break shed a fragment. A very small crumb fell. He took her chin in his hand.
She wanted to smash that hand. To cut it off. To burn it. She imagined killing the phantom thief in dozens of ways. In this space she was omnipotent. With the lightest will she could work a miracle.
But that will went cold.
Something vast. Something truly, impossibly vast was there.
"Come. Look at the sky again."
Guided by his hand, she looked up. There—
"We are under moonlight now."
A full moon hung overhead. A beautiful moon, pouring out a dreamlike gray light. The phantom thief smiled wide.
"Isn't it truly beautiful?"
"Ah— ugh……"
She shook.
When. In what gap.
No. The Eclipse God's sanctuary is still in effect. Feel the power circling your body. It's there. Infinite. It's fine. A trick. He said he was a phantom thief, didn't he? This must be some ability — magic, or whatever it is. So. Kill him before it's too late.
FWOOM!!!
A single swing split space. The blow, laden with divine power, flung her fear aside and cut the enemy who had been covering her eyes. Black flame roared up along the diagonal. Space warped. The sanctuary blessed her. A strike certain to kill its target. No one it struck would live.
Clap. Clap.
"Magnificent. That one just now was dangerous."
Die if it hit? Then he simply wouldn't let it hit.
"Haha. Why look at me like that? Smile. Smile."
The phantom thief pushed the mask upward with both thumbs.
Crumble.
Powder from the mask sifted down.
"Hmm."
He stopped, as if going any further would be a problem. The saintess set the inside of her mouth aflame, and the pain snapped her mind awake.
The sky?
There was no moon. Only the eclipse that would comfort her. Relief washed through her. A simple hallucination, meant to scatter her wits. With the unknown gone, arrogance and confidence took its place.
"For a phantom thief, you have quite a few tricks. You seem less a thief than a clown."
A cruel smile drew itself at her lips, and the sanctuary agreed with it. Black flowers bloomed. Even where there was nothing but darkness, the blossoms stood out, drifting around her. A beauty with a great axe, and flowers embroidering the air. A truly mythic sight.
"I prefer phantom thief to clown."
He waved a hand, declining. The saintess answered with a snort.
"No. You are a clown."
BOOM!
She moved. The sanctuary guided her. The axe, heavy with divine power, swung again, and the black flowers assisted, occupying every direction as if they would not permit him to dodge.
"A clown who begs for his life, ugly and wretched — that is you."
"Saintess, that isn't right."
He tapped the axe splitting his shoulder blade and answered her. The phantom thief was cut in half. Black flame burned what remained, but she felt that he had not died. Behind her, in empty air, he sat with his legs crossed.
"Saintess Aurone. Summarize your life, and it is, quite simply, the life of a clown."
"You call me a clown?"
Nonsense. She snapped her fingers and burned him. Beside the flames, an unharmed phantom thief appeared.
"That's right."
The axe severed his neck.
"You aren't doing anything yourself."
She drove a black spear into his face.
"You didn't earn your power through effort."
She cut off his limbs, bound him in black flame, and squeezed until he burst.
"There isn't even anything about you that looks particularly impressive."
Light striking down from the eclipse annihilated him.
"And that office of yours — you didn't even win it yourself, did you?"
Grotesque. She had killed him dozens of times, and he would not die. What was that? Her senses were certain the phantom thief was dead.
"You of all people should know better, Saintess."
"Graaaaaah!!!"
Ignore him. She didn't need to listen. What did he know, to run his mouth like that? What did he know about her life? Not one thing he said was true! The heart with which she had become a saintess! The heart with which she had come here! The heart with which she had become an apostle! And some mere stranger presumed to speak of her!
That man was no different from an ordinary person, with no combat power to speak of. He seemed to have a real knack for dodging and fleeing, but if he could not attack, he was nothing.
I must not give him a moment to speak.
She reined in her emotions. Rage here, and she would only dance in his palm. Drive him without a breath of rest, and he would die. The saintess expanded her senses. Wherever he sprang out again, he would be inside her hand.
"That attitude isn't good."
Shhk!
She split him in a straight line from head to hip. The phantom thief pinched her cheek and pulled.
"Saintess, isn't this a past you'll have to face someday? Overcome it stoutly, and you can kill me."
Crrrk!
She crushed him, mask and all. Brain matter dripped.
"I've done this sort of thing to someone before, so I know — refusing like that didn't end well. You won't be like that, will you, Saintess?"
"Shut up! Where does a man who knows nothing get off spewing such filth!"
Damn it. For an instant she had failed to hold herself.
"If I didn't know, I wouldn't have brought it up."
The phantom thief wrapped himself and the saintess round and round in a cloth bundle.
"This—!"
It burned at once. But before her eyes, somehow, a makeshift performance stage had appeared.
"Now, now, audience — please be seated! The performance is about to begin, so I ask that you mind your manners!"
Up on the stage, the phantom thief held several pictures and was rapping the table.
Riiip!
She tore that ridiculous scene in two.
"The tale we tell today is the tale of the clown saintess. Anyone who needs the restroom, please go now."
The saintess split the stage. From somewhere else, the stage kept being born again. She worked like a machine. It did not vanish.
"What is this."
She let the axe hang. No matter how she erased it, it was useless.
"What are you……"
"Saintess, today is performance day, so please sit over there."
He pointed at a chair with an easy gesture.
"What are youuuuuu!!!"
The saintess imprisoned him. Inside bars wrought of black flame, the phantom thief cleared his throat.
"Ah. Mm. Ah. It's my first performance, so I'm a little nervous."
Her lips trembled. He scratched his cheek, as if troubled.
"Please don't look so anxious. The story itself is entertaining. You won't be bored."
"Uwaaaaaah!!!"
Die! Die, I said!
Amid the slaughter, the phantom thief turned the first picture.
Diiiiiie!!!