I continued to run. Only one thought filled my mind.
Don’t be too late. Please, don’t be too late!
When I made it all the way to the top and the temple came into view, I saw that the main doors had been flung wide open.
“Mary! Blood!”
At the back of the temple… was the god of undeath. He was stretching out his hand toward Mary and Blood, who were covered in wounds. They had probably tried to resist. Gus was sewn to the wall by the black mist, and Blood, standing to protect Mary, was already beginning to crumble.
As soon as I witnessed that scene, I knew. The conclusion was forced upon me. With this much distance… and this little time… I was never going to make it. None of the three were in any condition to deal with him.
The blood drained from my head. Was this really happening? After coming all this way, after even borrowing the power of a god, after finally evening the odds… was it all really going to end with me being careless enough to fall for a conman’s trick?
“Hah hah hah!”
The god of undeath extended his hand triumphantly, and it seemed to move toward Blood’s skull in slow motion—
But the next instant, that hand was knocked away.
“Huh…?” It wasn’t me. Nor was it Gus, Blood, or Mary.
The one who had knocked aside the god of undeath’s hand was a woman clothed in soft raiment. She was blocking the way to Mary and Blood, shielding them.
I didn’t recognize her. And yet, I definitely felt like I knew her.
Mary’s empty eyes opened wide, and her voice trembled with a wordless sound of amazement and disbelief. Impossible tears fell from the corners of her eyes.
The woman turned toward Mary and smiled. A loving smile, a caressing smile. And then the woman’s form melted gently into the night air, as though it had been no more than an illusion.
Nothing more was needed. The message couldn’t have been clearer.
Mary had always had her forgiveness. She never hated Mary in the first place.
But Mary wasn’t looking for forgiveness. Lenient treatment wasn’t what Mary wanted. So she watched over Mary, and continued to scold her as she desired. And this continued, and continued, without her ever removing her protection, for two whole centuries, until the time came when Mary could forgive herself.
What mother wouldn’t come to the aid of the daughter who loves her in her time of crisis? The god that Mary worshipped with such devotion, Mater, was indeed a great goddess.
Knowing the truth of everything, Mary broke into tears.
The god of undeath froze at the sight of his assured victory slipping from his grasp.
And with deep gratitude to Mater for this unexpected opportunity, Blood and I sprang into action.
“Gracefeel, god of the flame! Repose and guidance!” I immediately made the decision to use benediction. And I was aiming for Mary and Blood.
“Wh—?!”
The god of undeath stared, wide-eyed in a clear state of shock. He surely hadn’t anticipated that I would blast one of my moves at the people I was trying to protect. The blessing I was using was Divine Torch: the invisible, sacred pulse that returned souls to the cycle of reincarnation.
“Tch! Stagnate, samsara! Go astray, guidance!”
He knew what I was intending and unleashed an unholy pulse of countervailing nature, nullifying it. He was standing in front of Mary and Blood, guarding them.
It was a strange sight to see, but because I was targeting Mary and Blood, he had no choice but to protect them. If I launched attacks at him instead, he would probably attempt to take their two souls in the meantime, trusting that as a splinter of a god, he could survive just long enough to complete the task before getting annihilated.
As far as the gods were concerned, their Echoes were disposable. They required time and effort to bring into the world, but could certainly be replaced. He would gladly trade annihilation for Mary and Blood.
But if I managed to hit them with Divine Torch, that would be an entirely different story. I was certain they wouldn’t resist it. They would slip out of his clutches, and return to the eternal wheel.
If that happened, the entire reason he went to the trouble of sending a splinter down to this dimension in the first place would evaporate. It would turn out to have been a complete waste of effort. In order to prevent that from happening, the god of undeath was forced into this strange situation where he had to protect Mary and Blood from me for as long as the focus of my benediction remained on them.
Ironically, his situation was exactly the same as that of a superhero, standing in front of the citizens who need to be protected, in the face of attacks from the villain. His only choice was to put his body in front of them, and protect them from being so much as grazed by my benediction. His attention was divided, distracted with the task of completely negating my moves.
With a breathy grunt, Blood transferred all the strength left in his wounded body into a single downward swing of his favorite two-handed sword. Even if it wasn’t as impressive as Overeater, Blood’s favorite weapon was itself a demonblade, and one worthy of his skills with a sword. It couldn’t be ignored.
The less than a second that the god of undeath spent on a reactionary dodge…
“Acceleratio!”
…would be more than enough for me to fly down the length of the temple!
“V-Vas—”
He attempted to incant the Word of Destruction.
“Tacere, os!”
An instant’s silence was forced upon his mouth. It was Gus. He was still sewn to the wall by the black mist, and he was wearing the world’s smuggest grin. The power that Gus could wield right now was obviously extremely limited, and yet he had interfered in the best possible way at the best possible moment.
— Just learn to use small amounts of magic, sensibly and precisely.
I remembered the words he’d taught me all that time ago. This Word of Silence, this glorious and dastardly attack, epitomized Gus far better than the grand magic that was the Word of Entity Obliteration.
My right foot met the ground. I kicked forward again, closing the distance like a bullet. Left foot. Right foot. The walls on either side of me raced backward like arrows in flight.
I was already upon him—
I screamed a war cry, and then—
Impact. Resistance.
Overeater was buried in his chest.
“Gahk—!”
I pulled it out, and slashed again. Then another slash, and another. The god of undeath tried to evade and defend, but at this range, I was in complete control.
“Why, you… Damn you!”
Slash. Slash. Slash. The crimson thorns shooting from the demonblade tormented his body.
“Will… Will, son of Mary and Blood… Will, disciple of Gracefeel!”
He glared at me, his murky eyes full of hate. It wasn’t the fake hatred and bloodlust from before. This was true hatred, true bloodlust.
“I will not forget your name! If you will not surrender to me, I will make sure you never sleep easy again!”
He had marked me out now for sure.
“You sound like a two-bit villain,” I said bluntly, and blasted the god of undeath, covered in crimson thorns, with every last bit of purifying power I could draw from the god of the flame.
At last, the formidable Echo of the god of undeath started crumbling away.
If I was afraid to make an enemy of a god, I wouldn’t have defied one in the first place.