Xenovia's eyes snapped open, breath catching as she came to. She and Irina—defeated by that devil. But he hadn't killed her.
She scanned the room, every sense on edge. Dim light, bare walls—a prison. In the corner, a white-haired girl stood with her back to Xenovia, examining something.
Her sword.
"Don't move."
Xenovia rose with feline grace, eyes flashing. In a heartbeat, she lunged—arm locking around the girl's throat, voice cold as steel.
But the girl didn't flinch. Instead, she smirked.
"Barrier—activate."
A burst of light. Power surged from the girl, and Xenovia was hurled across the room, crashing to the floor. Blood welled at the corner of her mouth.
"A Sacred Gear…"
Xenovia spat, her glare darkening.
"I'm Tosca. Lord Tenra's Bishop."
She turned, leveling Excalibur Destruction at Xenovia's neck, smile icy and unyielding.
"Trying to threaten me with a holy sword? That's not power a devil should even dream of."
Xenovia wiped her lip and rose, defiant. "Covet it? I think it's worthless. My comrades died for that thing."
Tosca's eyes flashed with bitter cold. "Worthless? My friends died for it. The Church called it a miracle. For us, it was a curse."
Xenovia frowned. The hatred wasn't an act.
"What do you mean?"
"The Holy Sword Project. You've heard of it, haven't you?"
"You… You survived that?"
Realization hit—shock rippling across Xenovia's face.
Tosca's lips curled. "The only one, Lady Holy Sword Wielder."
Xenovia's stance softened. "Tosca, you were once one of us. I understand your hatred for the project. It was an abomination, even to us. The Church punished those responsible. The mastermind was branded a heretic and exiled. You don't have to side with devils."
She drew a deep breath, letting her guard down. "If you really are the survivor, then the Church owes you. I don't want to be your enemy."
Tosca's eyes narrowed, amusement flickering. "So what do you think I should do, oh righteous Xenovia?"
Xenovia ignored the sarcasm. "Return my sword. Help me rescue Irina. When we're done, come back with us. I'll speak to His Holiness. The Church will make amends."
It was the only offer she could give.
Tosca laughed—a harsh, hollow sound. "And then what? I get used up and tossed aside again? Like a dog?"
"Never again, Tosca. I promise."
Xenovia's voice trembled with conviction. "I know there's darkness in the Church. But our Lord exists to drive it out. Everything you suffered was a trial. If you keep faith, you'll find redemption."
Tosca doubled over, laughter shaking her frame until tears spilled down her cheeks.
"The Lord's trial? The Lord will redeem me?" Her voice was ice, eyes burning with hatred.
"We believed in him. We gave everything. But when we were deceived—he didn't appear. When we were used—he didn't appear. When we screamed on the operating table—he didn't appear. When we huddled, waiting to be erased—he didn't appear!"
"Yes, we called it a trial. We waited for salvation. But all we found was despair!"
She was shouting now, voice raw. The hatred in her words pressed against Xenovia's chest, suffocating.
Xenovia stumbled back, searching for words. None came.
For the first time, doubt crept into her heart.
She'd always believed. But faith hadn't saved Tosca. Hadn't saved anyone.
Tosca wiped her face, the anger melting away—replaced by a gentle, almost holy glow.
"When I was drowning, Lord Tenra saved me. He cared. He taught me. He loved me. He gave me hope, and the strength to live."
"Tenra is my master. My god. My everything."
Her hands folded in prayer, eyes shining with fanatic devotion.
Xenovia stared, stunned. She recognized that look—the same rapture she'd seen in the Church's most zealous believers.
No. This girl—she'd been utterly bewitched by the devil.
Tosca's focus shifted, voice suddenly calm. "Do you want out, Lady Holy Sword Wielder?"
Xenovia's eyes narrowed. "You'll just let me go?"
Tosca smiled, sly. "Read this." She tossed a slim, leather-bound book—The Codex of Divinitas et Diabolus—at Xenovia's feet. "Finish it, and you're free."
"Never!" Xenovia snapped. "I worship the true Lord. I won't touch a devil's scripture!"
She flung the codex aside.
Tosca shrugged. "Your choice. But maybe you should think about your friend."
She turned to leave, laughter trailing behind her. "Enjoy your stay, Xenovia. If you change your mind—just call."
With Excalibur Destruction in hand, Tosca strode out. Xenovia tried to stop her, but the barrier flared, sending her crashing back.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Xenovia hammered at the door, but the room was sealed tight—no amount of force could break through.
"Damn it!"
She slammed her fist against the wall, frustration and fear swirling inside.
Her own fate didn't matter. But Irina—
"Irina… please be safe…"
She prayed, desperation clawing at her heart.
But in a room not far away—
"No, Tenra… We can't…"
Fragments of clothing littered the floor. Two bodies tangled together, limbs entwined.
Tenra—and Irina.
—
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