"N-no..."
Someone instinctively answered in a trembling voice under the terrifying pressure.
"W-what are you saying? They're monsters! They were born to die! They're Cursed Children!"
Another brute forced himself to shout, but fear already cracked his voice.
"Is that so?"
Zeroy whispered softly, slowly raising her blade. Its edge reflected their twisted faces in the beam of the flashlight.
The next instant, she vanished.
"Then you deserve death!"
With a scream, a severed hand still clutching a pipe flew through the air.
The girl's demon-like voice rang out again.
"No, I won't let you die so easily. You'll regret ever being born."
Blades flashed again and again through the dark warehouse. In moments, screams and the stench of blood filled the air.
Zeroy didn't kill them—she only cut off their arms and legs. The human body's limbs and head were fragile, yet remarkable.
They were shaped perfectly for severing. One clean swing, and only the intended part would be severed, leaving the rest untouched.
Beheading meant death. Limbs meant agony.
Strange, isn't it? The human body.
Against something like slimes, this would be impossible—they had no limbs, and one strike would kill outright.
A ball of light gathered at Zeroy's fingertips, illuminating the warehouse.
The children's frightened gazes, Zeroy soaked in blood, the floor strewn with severed limbs and writhing men.
"Don't be afraid."
Though they looked at her in terror, Zeroy's eyes held no anger, no resentment. She softened her expression as much as she could, stepping toward them gently.
"I won't hurt you. I only hurt the bad people… like them."
As she spoke, a glow swept over her body, and the blood covering her vanished.
The Striker Unit's self-cleaning function—an ability that had saved Zeroy a lot of hassle in HotD.
Reaching the children still frozen in fear, Zeroy stretched out her hand, a soft light glowing from it.
Pain faded. Fear faded from their faces.
Zeroy knew little magic. With time so short, after getting the Basic Magic Introduction, she had only learned the most general, easy spells.
Healing and illumination—just what was needed now. Minor wounds closed under her touch, healing before their eyes. However, broken ribs and crushed fingers were beyond her.
She was still a novice after all. Less than a day of study, and half of it spent training body and armor.
"..."
No, she sighed inwardly, healing fractures was too much.
She had rushed here as fast as she could.
After arriving in this world, she'd dispatched scouting drones. One picked up cries from this warehouse.
She had come immediately.
Thankfully, all the children still lived. Their injuries weren't fatal.
Even so, she had still come late. Now, she would need to see if the shop had healing potions.
"Big sis... are you a magical girl?"
Maybe from a poster she'd found, the girl had learned of such things.
Seeing Zeroy's wondrous magic, so gentle, easing pain—and her faintly worried frown—the girl had blurted it out.
"Magical girl? I'm not a magical girl, I'm just..."
Zeroy paused, gazing at that innocent, caring face, and changed her words. Wanting to comfort and distract her from worry, she said:
"You can think of me as one."
"Big sis really is a magical girl! Is this magic? It's amazing!"
The girl smiled brightly, staring at the glowing orb floating above like a beloved toy.
Although Zeroy could see it… she was still trembling, still enduring pain.
A good child... Zeroy sighed again in her heart.
"Eh? Another magical girl big sis..."
The girl looked past her.
"?"
'Another?'
"Should I help heal them?"
A calm voice echoed in the warehouse. Zeroy turned. From the hole she'd made descended a purple figure. Long purple hair, a long purple robe, and a strange hat adorned with moons.
A stunningly beautiful young face, expression calm and detached in the magical glow.
"You're... a Reincarnator?"
"Yes. You want to heal them? However, your magic is too shallow. You can't treat them perfectly."
The girl's voice was flat, monotone.
"So, do you want my help?"
"..."
Zeroy fell silent.
"Then... please."
The girl wasted no words. She simply acted.
She raised her hand. From her fingertips drifted green motes of light.
When they touched the children, every injury—even shattered fingers, mangled flesh—healed within seconds.
The gap between her and Zeroy in magic was clear.
Zeroy checked the children's wounds. All healed. Then she stood and looked at the girl.
"Thank you."
Then she looked at the men writhing on the ground. Some had fainted. Others lingered, gasping in pain.
No more screams, just groans—weak, ceaseless.
"Can you heal them, too? Not fully. Don't ease their pain. Just keep them alive. Don't let them die too fast."
"..."
The girl glanced at Zeroy, then nodded.
"Alright."
Again, green motes drifted down.
And the men screamed anew. Their chorus filled the warehouse once more. The girl had even thoughtfully woken those who'd fainted.
"Your name?"
"Patchouli. And you?"
"Zeroy. Nice to meet you."
...
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