"Sorry… I've left you with such a mess, and couldn't even do much to help…"
As Siegfried laid his hand upon Lin Qi's outstretched palm, his silver eyes carried a trace of guilt.
"We should be the ones thanking you for holding on this long."
The two shook their heads, refusing Siegfried's apology.
For someone so grievously wounded to endure until their arrival—and even plan for what came next—Siegfried had done more than enough. Just that alone was worthy of the name hero.
It wasn't that he hadn't done well; he had simply reached the very limits of what any man could do.
"...Thank you. I'll leave the rest to you."
Siegfried let out a small laugh, a faintly serene expression settling on his face. He grasped Lin Qi's hand firmly.
The next instant, his Saint Graph—laden with its heavy curse—merged into Lin Qi's body, and Siegfried's figure dissolved into countless golden motes of light before their eyes.
Power—tremendous power.
That was Lin Qi's first sensation as the fusion began.
As expected of one of the Three Knight Classes—the Saber whose parameters were the most balanced, and a slayer of dragons besides. The strength flooding into him far exceeded what he had felt when inheriting Cú Chulainn's Saint Graph. It even gave him a fleeting illusion—of omnipotence.
Then came the pain.
Every cell in his body screamed in agony.
His chest felt as though a boulder weighing dozens of kilograms had been set upon it; even breathing became a struggle. His vision swam and blurred.
"Urgh—!"
Lin Qi couldn't help but crouch down, gasping for breath.
In mere seconds, sweat poured down his face.
So this… is the pain Siegfried endured all this time?
Lin Qi was stunned by Siegfried's endurance.
Just a few seconds of it, and he could already feel his will crumbling—his body refusing even to move.
"You okay?"
Jeanne hurriedly caught him as he wavered.
Her hand met his trembling frame—his clenched fists pale, his expression twisted with pain.
At the sight, her heart clenched sharply, an ache rising in her chest.
Lord, why must this child bear such suffering?
She prayed instinctively.
No answer came.
Composing herself, Jeanne gently brushed Lin Qi's hair.
"It must hurt terribly, doesn't it?"
Her voice trembled faintly, colored with the edge of tears.
"Haha… you're the one crying, though I'm the one in pain."
Lin Qi forced a laugh.
The burn scars on his face distorted his smile, making it wretched and weary—but somehow, it lightened the air.
Jeanne, startled out of her grief, gave a small, choked laugh in return.
"I guess… I'm not as strong as I thought. I can't help it when I see things like this…"
She wiped away the tears at the corner of her eyes, then helped Lin Qi to his feet.
He could barely stand, his entire weight sagging against her.
If Jeanne hadn't been more than a mere woman—if she didn't have the strength of a Saint—neither of them would have been able to move.
She looped his arm around her shoulders, steadied her hold at his waist, and took a testing step.
"…Good. We can move. Let's go."
"Yeah."
Supporting him, Jeanne half-carried Lin Qi out of the hut.
At the doorway, several villagers waited—those who had been caring for Siegfried.
They stood in silence as the two emerged. They had been ready for this outcome, yet the departure of their guardian still left them hollow, unanchored.
"…I'm sorry. Please, find somewhere safe to hide. In time… things will get better."
Jeanne couldn't bring herself to leave without saying something to comfort them.
Even if she didn't quite believe it herself.
Not long after they left the village, both of them stopped abruptly.
Not from exhaustion. Not because Lin Qi could no longer bear the pain.
But because a blue-robed figure stood in their path, a cross-shaped staff in hand.
Beside her loomed a massive, hulking creature the size of a small house—its entire body sheathed in thick, dark scales. It exhaled heavily, and even that breath tore furrows into the dirt.
It was Martha—Saint Martha—and by her side, the dragon Tarasque she had subdued.
"Martha… so she did catch up."
They had imagined this possibility, yet the moment they actually faced it, their hearts still sank.
Jeanne gently set Lin Qi's arm aside, stepped forward to shield him, and raised her flag-lance, eyes fixed on the saint before them.
Lin Qi, swallowing back the searing pain, summoned Balmung.
But under the curse's effect, his body was racked with torment and weakness. Merely keeping the sword planted in the ground was already his limit.
Guess I can only hope she goes easy on us…
He gave a wry smile.
Before inheriting Siegfried's Saint Graph, he could at least have used runic magecraft to support Jeanne—maybe even the faintest chance of victory. But now…
Simply not dragging her down would count as success.
"It seems you came too late. The dragon-slaying hero has already vanished…"
Martha finally spoke, her tone calm but unyielding.
"But it appears you weren't without gain… he passed his power to you before fading, didn't he?"
Her gaze shifted past Jeanne to Lin Qi, lingering on Balmung for a moment.
"As expected of the saint who once subdued the evil dragon herself," Jeanne said cautiously. "To discern so much from a glance…"
She was probing—trying to see if any trace of Martha's sanity remained.
Every second mattered; if there was a way to avoid a fight, she'd take it.
Especially against someone even more legendary than herself.
"Oh? So you know me? Good—saves me the trouble of an introduction."
Martha tilted her head slightly, a fleeting smile on her lips. But then, as if something dark twisted behind her eyes, the smile curved into something unhinged—feral, almost gleeful.
"Heh… if you think that means you can be lenient just because it's me, you're sorely mistaken. I'm under Mad Enhancement now—without a doubt, your enemy!"
"Come! Prove you're worthy of facing those even more dangerous than I!"
"Go, Tarasque!"
So battle was unavoidable, after all.
At her command, Tarasque let out an earth-shaking roar and charged forward, lowering its horned head like a living battering ram.
The ground trembled; trees splintered in its wake.
We can't block that head-on!
Assessing the difference in strength, Jeanne acted instantly—grabbing Lin Qi and leaping aside.
Tarasque thundered past, crushing the spot they'd just occupied. Had it hit, they wouldn't even have had time to scream.
As they landed, Lin Qi flung a Black Key downward, timing the detonation precisely as the beast charged past.
A burst of flame and smoke erupted—only for Tarasque to emerge unscathed, pausing for barely a heartbeat before charging again.
"So ordinary attacks don't even scratch it…"
Naturally, both of them turned their focus toward Martha herself.
It wasn't much of a plan—but at least she could be hurt.
...