I Am the Saintess of Purification
"Keep your cool, Simon! Don't let her bait you!"
Kajan's shout rang in his ears. Not that Simon had any intention of taking the bait. His gaze, calm and settled, drifted upward toward the ceiling.
Dozens of black crosses hung suspended from the high vaulted ceiling of the Command and Control Room.
That night came back to him. The first time he'd faced Francesca, he hadn't been able to do a thing. He'd run around in a blind panic, thrown a single rock, and left the entire fight to Pier.
Compared to that night... how far have I actually come?
A slow, deep breath.
Simon bent his knees into a charging stance, and Francesca swept her palm downward. The jet-black crosses spread across the lofty ceiling above the command room plummeted all at once.
THOOOM!
THOOM!
The crosses buried themselves in the floor, splitting the air with one thunderous boom after another.
"By the way, don't you two think you're being awfully reckless, charging in like that?"
While Simon and Kajan dodged the falling crosses, Francesca worked the buttons of the command room console. Countless mana screens unfolded around her, offering an unobstructed view of the entire Kizen campus.
"Since you've come this far, I'll show you something entertaining."
"What are you scheming?!"
"Detonation."
The moment she pressed her middle finger to her thumb, Kajan and Simon both flinched and dropped low. She leisurely turned her eyes to the watch on her wrist.
"It should be about time. So then—"
She snapped her fingers. Her signal was meant to fire the ignition arrays of the Desolators.
But, naturally—
...!
Nothing happened.
In the instant confusion flashed across her face, Simon pried open that crack in her guard and swung his greatsword.
FWOOOOOOOOM!
As she leaped high to evade, Kajan—soaring even higher than she was—clenched both fists and hammered down like a man driving in a great iron nail.
WHAM!
A shield of jet-black turned Kajan's fist aside. In that same breath, magic circles spread to Francesca's left and right vented clouds of poison mist that struck Kajan dead-on.
"Kajan!"
"The Desolators were planted before the class even started. You're telling me you removed every single one of them?"
Having withdrawn a good distance from the two of them, Francesca wore a sinister smile.
"Chilling. It feels as though you've seen the future."
Simon held his silence and tightened his grip on the greatsword's hilt.
Just then, Kajan—drenched in the poison gas—sauntered back into view, cracking his neck as if nothing had happened.
Hm. So the poison doesn't work on him after all. Strange body, just like I'd heard.
She had saturated the entire chamber with paralytic toxin, yet not only Kajan but Simon looked completely unaffected as well.
The corners of her mouth curled upward. If these two were the last hope of Kizen, then crushing that hope head-on would make for a thoroughly satisfying finale.
FWOOOOOOOOOM!
Once again, countless crosses rose up along the high ceiling.
[BOY! WATCH OUT!]
"Regrettably, no one is coming. Not even Nephthys can break through my barrier."
What she had cast over Kizen was the Holy Barrier—a priest's ward specialized in defense, in a class apart from any necromancer's barrier in both strength and stability. Worse, being woven from divinity, it carried an innate resistance to jet-black.
All things equal, a priest standing behind her barrier held every advantage over a necromancer without one.
"Struggle all you like before the power of God, Nephthys's hounds."
FWAP!
Kajan tore off his uniform—the fabric hissing and dissolving where the poison had splashed it—baring his torso. Scarred, wild muscle bared its full menace.
"Simon. This is the last fight of this whole affair."
He extended his fist toward Simon, and Simon returned a faint smile as he met it with his own.
This was the first true breath Kajan and he had ever shared.
"Right. Let's go."
The moment their fists touched, both men blurred into afterimages and shot apart—and the black crosses came crashing down onto the floor where they'd stood. Like a pair of coiling, writhing trajectories, the two of them wove across the command room.
Internal Jet Black Eruption!
Drops of jet-black beaded off Simon's body. His physical abilities surged, and he began slipping through the crosses raining down like a deluge with far more room to spare.
With Francesca at the center, Kajan closed in from the left and Simon from the right.
TAANG!
Kajan moved first. Leaping like a supple beast across tens of meters, he lashed out with a kick.
WHAM!
Francesca naturally spread a jet-black shield to stop it. At the same instant, Simon—rushing in from behind her like a flash of light—swung his greatsword.
SHRAAAAK!
She ducked low to evade, and in that opening Kajan crashed into her with a roar.
The beastlike punch was caught on her knife-hand, but Kajan instantly retracted his arm and hammered out a flurry of blows, while Francesca smirked and met him blow for blow with her own martial arts.
Tak. Tat. Tak. TAAK. Tat. PAT.
The limbs of two seasoned fighters tangled and wove together—so fast their movements barely registered to the eye.
Kajan twisted his whole body like a soft-bodied creature, hurling attacks in chaotic angles, while Francesca spread her knife-hands and flicked away each fist the moment it came flying—deflecting every strike before it could even reach its mark.
THWACK!
Then Francesca's leg smashed into Kajan's knee, collapsing his lower-body balance.
The instant she thrust her fingertips toward his heart—
FWAAAAAAM!
Simon's blade came crashing down on top of Francesca's head. She clicked her tongue and fell back.
"HYAAAAAH!"
WHAM! FWOOOM!
Where Kajan was fluid and wild, Simon's greatsword style was heavy—every single blow carrying crushing weight. His slashes began tearing through the air with murderous ferocity.
Francesca dodged again and again, head snapping side to side, before drawing a jet-black blade across the back of her hand and finally trading blows with him blade to blade.
CLANG!
The weapons collided, and the vibration running up their arms into their hands made Simon's blood run cold.
Is she really the Toxicology TA?
Her martial arts were astonishing—almost enough to make him doubt her specialty was poison at all.
No—this was something beyond mere martial arts. It was the hand-to-hand discipline of priests, honed around defense and counterattack.
CHING!
Having knocked Simon's greatsword aside, Francesca pressed in close and slashed at his throat.
SHREEEEIK!
But Kajan's fist came rocketing in and struck Francesca's face first.
KRGH! With a choked grunt, her body was flung backward and crashed to the floor.
"You alright?"
"Yeah!"
Simon readjusted his grip on the greatsword as Kajan settled into a fighting stance with both fists raised. Francesca rose with a low chuckle, brushed her mouth with the back of her hand, and smiled.
"Keep going."
The two fighters fanned out to either side once more. A flash of white and a flash of black wove around the crosses raining from the ceiling and converged on Francesca's flanks in a heartbeat.
"KUHP!"
"HYAAAAH!"
Arms and legs blurred in dazzling motion. Fists and greatsword crossed, slashes and strikes churning the air into chaos. Francesca at the center devoted everything to defense, but fresh gashes kept opening across her body all the same.
CRACK!
Kajan's punch broke through her guard and hammered her jaw. The instant her body lifted off the ground, Simon's heel—arcing in from behind like a hook—dragged her face down and slammed her into the floor.
BOOM!
The moment Simon planted the Sword of Ruin upright, she shoved his right hand away with her foot and slid backward.
"HUP!"
And before she could even rise, Kajan was already on her, leaving afterimages as his barrage came pouring down.
POW! WHACK! CRUNCH!
Kajan's momentum had changed. This time his strikes weren't being swallowed by her defense—real hits were landing. An elbow buried itself in her nose; a straight punch sank into her stomach.
The moment she absorbed the blows and seized Kajan's ankle to launch her counter—
Open Gate!
SHRAAAAAAAAAK!
Out of nowhere, Overlord's blade erupted from the floor and carved across her shoulder. For the first time, fury flickered in her eyes.
"You wretches—!"
FWOOM!
Kajan thrust out his fist. She extended her knife-hand to deflect his wrist, but Kajan converted the punch into a feint mid-motion and dropped his stance—and there behind her stood Simon, greatsword raised.
FWAAAAAAM!
She dropped into a desperately low posture to escape. Several strands of long red hair drifted to the floor, sheared away.
So close!
He had aimed for her neck in a single stroke, and it had just barely missed.
But she had committed to a big movement—and the opening was theirs.
Simon flicked his fingers upward, and beneath Kajan's legs, Overlord rose and hurled him into the air.
Suspended aloft, Kajan spread both arms wide to either side, arched his head back, and tilted his legs until they nearly touched his back.
Kajan's eyes flashed.
<Kajan Original — Fang>
SHRAAAAAAAAAK!
As his outstretched arms crossed left and right, ten chillingly long claw marks tore across the empty air.
The floor and walls of the command room split apart—and deep wounds opened across her body in the same instant. The highest claw had carved across her throat.
Fountains of blood erupted from her neck, chest, and stomach all at once. Above all, the neck was cut deep and clean.
We got her!
Simon's fist clenched tight.
Kajan, back on the floor, stared ahead while hauling in ragged breaths.
Francesca ran her fingers over the wound on her neck that refused to stop bleeding, staring up at the ceiling with a hollow, disbelieving look.
Simon released the internal eruption and drew a long breath. Even without her finishing him off, he'd felt close to his organs bursting first.
...And creatures like this were attending school as students.
She gave a short laugh, then creaked her head to one side.
"I'll admit it—Francesca's power isn't enough to beat you. But tell me. Doesn't something strike you as strange?"
An uneasy premonition.
It did. It had been strange all along.
"Among the things guarding this place, there were necromancers stronger than the two of you. And now every one of them looks like this. Why do you suppose that is?"
FWHAAAAAAAASH!
Pure white flame exploded from her body. Simon's eyes went wide.
...Divinity!
The holy flames erased every wound Kajan had carved into her, leaving behind nothing but the faintest of scars.
Then, as if dressing her, garments of white woven from the flames drifted down over her body.
"You think I'll just stand here and let you?!"
Kajan hurled his exhausted body into a charge. She watched him come, let out a scornful laugh, and snapped her fingers with a sharp crack!
"...!"
Like an explosion, a surge of white flame swept across her front and blasted the charging Kajan clean off his feet. The moment the white fire clung to him, Kajan—for once—let out cries of genuine agony, thrashing against it.
"In truth, I am not Francesca. My name is Flema."
"One of the Seven Pillars that guard Ephnel."
"I am the Saintess of Purification."
White bled into the red of her hair, and her eyes grew steadily more clouded and unfathomable. Simon's face drained of color; even Pier was letting out a hollow laugh at a development he hadn't foreseen. White flames coiled all around her as she rose toward the ceiling.
This was not an enemy one could dismiss as "one of Ephnel's priests."
The Dark Alliance's greatest, most terrible foe.