2-17 The Murder Ghost and the Sacrificed Saintess (2)
Zzzt- . . . . .
No one could utter a sound before the shocking sight. No one could move.
In that frozen moment, Sion made the first move. Just a tiny shift, barely tilting the tip of her massive scythe taller than herself.
But that was the signal.
BOOM!!!!
In an instant, the sound of kicking off the ground. And with it, Noa was already upon Sion. Both hands gripping a sword drawn from its sheath.
Holy sword energy blazed pure white, illuminating the room's darkness as it swung.
CLANG!!!!
A strike in the blink of an eye. A killing blow meant to cleave the foe in two at once.
Yet Sion casually blocked it with the pole of her raised scythe. Noa's knight sword didn't touch her. The holy energy couldn't slice the scythe—or Sion.
"Hup—!!"
As if in exchange, Noa let out a sharp grunt. Sion's eyes widened, and in the next instant, her body floated up.
The airborne form shot backward with even greater force.
CRASH!!
Sion smashed through the window and flew outside. Noa kicked off the floor again, pursuing her.
"Noa!!"
Rushing to the window after them, I peered down at the fallen pair. Below the shattered pane, moonlight and Noa's sword-wreathed holy energy lit the space. Blinding lines of light crisscrossed wildly, sparks erupting in the darkness.
Noa's sword, cloaked in holy energy. Sion's scythe, devouring the shadows as it swung. The weapons tangled, their battle raging on.
The ground cratered, walls split, nearby trees sliced and toppled. Their surroundings turned to ruin at a blistering pace.
It didn't look like it'd end quickly. Noa must have realized that first and deliberately drawn it outside.
Sion's stats... She should be only Lv.2.
And her class is the non-combat Fortune Teller! There's no way she could block a Holy Knight like Noa!
Normally, Noa should've crushed Sion in seconds. She should've been bisected by that first strike moments ago.
Pushing aside my shock, I stepped back from the window. Their fight would drag on anyway. No need to watch every second.
Instead, I approached the bed. Lying there was Saintess Lemon. No illusion—she was drenched in blood, utterly still.
Saintess Lemon
The message window from the church earlier. No doubt it was true.
Saintess Lemon was already dead.
Gone.
"Gaon... sir."
A trembling voice. Sharon. She was supporting Heart, who hung pinned to the wall by nails through her hands, lowering her while glancing my way.
"Gaon sir...... Lemon, she's... how..."
Sharon asked. Even as she spoke, something welled up in her throat. The unbelievable reality stripped away her sense in an instant. Limbs refused to obey, breaths grew ragged unnoticed.
What was happening? What the hell had happened?
"Lemon... she's—"
"Sharon."
I cut her off.
"Heal Heart. You said healing isn't your specialty, but you can use it, right?"
"...........................Y-yes, Gaon sir!!"
Sharon cried out. Not that now—no, Heart was in danger too! But more than that, the saintess, someone she'd known well—or maybe not so well. Even so, someone she'd admired!!
Saintess Lemon, the most beloved saintess. Sharon loved her just as much. They'd rarely spoken, but Lemon brimmed with love, faith, and character worthy of respect. Someone who deserved blessings and happiness in any world!
Why end up like that?!
Alive? ...Dead...?!
I had to know. Had to hear it from him!
Tell me. Please tell me! If she's still alive, even a faint breath! Then with my clumsy healing, staking my life, I'd somehow...
"Sharon."
"Gaon sir, Gaon sir, Gaon sir...!! Lemon, Lemon she's—"
"Sharon!!"
My shout snapped her from her panic. She clamped her mouth shut, but the turmoil lingered. Who knew what she'd do next?
But I continued.
"It's okay."
I gazed down at Saintess Lemon. Blood-soaked, no longer breathing. I scanned her top to bottom again.
The unfamiliar metallic tang of blood. The gruesome stench of death that seemed contagious just by looking.
Facing it, I drew a deep breath, steadying myself. I was shocked too. Tense. My hands still shook from the surprise. I gripped my wrist, calming them. Each breath eased the tremors. The inner turmoil faded.
It's okay. It's okay.
I repeated it to Sharon—and myself—several times, then turned back.
"It's okay. So don't worry, Sharon."
"......."
"You keep misunderstanding no matter how many times I say it, so let me clarify now."
My face was grim. But I forced a reassuring smile. Stiff and wooden from the strain.
"I am the Salvation King. I'll make you all happy."
BOOM!
KABOOM!!
The main street beside Mera Laundry. In the narrow gap between buildings, their battle raged.
Fierce exchanges. Metal clashed against metal, mana against holy energy, unleashing roars and blasts of light.
Air screamed with each parry. The pavement shattered under stomps, debris and dust billowing.
The late-night clamor had no fearless onlookers peeking from windows. The city already buzzed with fear over the murder ghost. And ordinary folk knew they were helpless against Blessed Ones (Hero Units)—mere bystanders in the crossfire.
Save for the odd curtain-twitcher yielding to curiosity, everyone hid, waiting for the noise to pass. Praying the flames spared them. Hoping for a peaceful night.
"S...iiioooon!!"
Noa's sword swung hard, trailing pure white light. Sion's massive scythe parried fluidly. Then its other end struck—blocked by Noa's recovering blade.
"It's late. No need to yell like that, Holy Knight."
Sion quipped coolly, deflecting Noa's thrusting sword with her scythe.
Sion's scythe was enormous. Human-sized, hard to wield, let alone master. Far clumsier than spear or sword.
Yet Sion handled it with eerie skill. The swinging blade slithered like a living serpent, striking precisely at any gap Noa showed.
Noa, on the offensive, retreated multiple times with chills down her spine.
Sion held the edge. Same level, but her Lv.4 stats topped the charts. Noa's fresh level-up barely scraped by—far inferior. Inexperience dulled her technique too. Her attacks telegraphed clearly, preliminaries visible.
Sion countered flawlessly with her scythe extension of limb.
But... not with room to spare.
Sion's scythe traced serpentine paths. Masterful arcs in the inky black blade.
But the trajectory bounced off unyielding white light. Repelled, the white lunged to bite Sion.
It kept happening. Simple paths. But undeniably fast. Undeniably strong. And growing stronger, faster by the second.
Fueled by rage? No. Emotions couldn't bridge that gap.
It was Noa's unknown Hero trait. Stats surged steeply against strong foes, boosted further.
Proof: Her holy energy swelled brighter, larger with each clash.
One-on-one, I could still hold... but...
Sharon remained above. Another Lv.4 saintess. Her intervention doomed Sion.
That realization hit. Forgetting the moment, Sion shuddered in thrill and awe.
She hadn't foreseen this. No future should escape her sight—yet this one had.
In her visions, Noa wasn't this strong. The future had shattered.
A long-fixed path had veered wildly. She knew the cause.
King Gaon. The outsider who appeared one day.
Recalling him with rapture, as she raised her scythe anew—
Noa's Luck skill triggered unbidden.
Crack—!
"...? Wha...?!"
Sion's balance crumbled. Pure chance: the worn pavement block underfoot gave way in the fierce fight.
Slash—!
Noa's knight sword exploited it. Diagonal overhead slice. Sion whipped her scythe up, blocking with the shaft.
A massive impact echoed. Shockwaves rippled out. At the epicenter, the black-mana-shielded shaft held, sparks flying.
"Grrrrr...!!"
"Yaaah!!"
Knight versus witch power struggle. Off-balance, Sion was at a clear disadvantage. Any slack, and she'd be halved.
Grinding her teeth, she endured. In the taut standoff, she twisted her scythe, deflecting the blade.
The sword missed, pulverizing air and pavement. Sion leaped back, out of reach.
A desperate moment, barely evaded. But not unscathed—blood poured from her right shoulder, deeply gashed.
No more fluid scythe work. Victory decided.
"...Weird."
"What is."
"Thought you'd rage more."
Sion muttered in resignation, fight pointless now.
"Third Saintess Lemon—precious to you, right? I saw it."
"So?"
"Expected more fury. You charging blindly—I'd counter and drop you easy."
Plan: Bait rage-blinded Noa, finish quick, then Sharon. Even if loss, escape viable.
But Noa stayed cool, rational. From the moment Sion was ejected, plans crumbled.
The room brimmed with traps for a berserk Noa. Useless now.
"Not as close as I thought? Or you think she's alive? Or maybe Gaon sir's so beloved, others don't matter?"
Sion sneered. But Noa remained composed, sword ready, alert—yet relaxed.
Of course Lemon mattered. She yearned to tear Sion apart here for harming her dear sister-figure.
But her calm stemmed from prior knowledge. Lemon's peril. Need for resolve. No cause for worry.
"It's okay, she said."
"...Pardon?"
"Gaon sir said, everything will be fine."
Something happened to Lemon. Brace for it. But no worries. I'll handle it all. Stay calm and do your duty, Noa.
"He's the Salvation King, saving us all!"
"He said not to worry! Said it's okay!"
"So I trust him and do what I must!!!!"
Incomprehensible to Sion. Even her Fortune Teller eyes saw no such future.
But seen or not—
The anomaly struck.
『――――――!!』
Mera Laundry, at Noa's back. A pillar of pure white light pierced the building from above, plummeting from the heavens.