Zeroy's mana reserves were fairly ordinary, which surprised Patchouli. She had assumed that someone as strong as Zeroy would also have immense mana reserves.
But what surprised her even more was Zeroy's mana recovery speed.
Simply put, even Patchouli's own recovery speed could not compare to Zeroy's.
And that was despite all the mana-restoring items Patchouli wore to greatly enhance her recovery speed.
"Your mana reserves are rather small, and considering how often you'll be using it..."
After a moment of thought, Patchouli gave up on the idea.
"Forget it. You don't need to worry about mana."
"What do you mean by that?"
Patchouli didn't explain, only telling Zeroy to wait until tomorrow morning to receive her grimoire.
…
When night fell…
Patchouli went to inscribe spells, while Zeroy had no intention of staying idle.
She had Patchouli accompany her to a small city.
While Zeroy slaughtered in the city, Patchouli stayed outside in a safe spot, working on her spells.
"The filth of the old world is burning away! There's no need to panic, no need to struggle—you will grow new spines in this sea of blood!"
"..."
Watching the city go up in flames, Patchouli let out a helpless sigh, then returned to her spellwork.
The way this girl acted, she really didn't look like a good person.
····
As Zeroy's cleansing raged on, the Holy Child of the Tokyo Area was not idle either.
Over the past few days, she spread the truth about the Cursed Children across the internet.
Not only in Tokyo, not even just in Japan—she wanted the entire world to see the truths hidden away by the government and certain factions.
This, without a doubt, would cause turmoil for both the government and society.
In fact, since the signal traced back to Tokyo, governments worldwide had issued harsh inquiries to Tokyo's authorities, even growing openly hostile.
At the same time, chaos spread through Tokyo itself. Strikes, protests, demonstrations—each day brought massive crowds into the streets.
Even when faced with the truth, many still hated the Cursed Children. Some refused to believe it; others simply didn't care.
And even when some awakened to reality and tried to support the Cursed Children, their voices were swiftly crushed.
"Your Highness, is this the Tokyo you wished to see?"
"..."
The Holy Child's hand trembled slightly as she arranged her tea set.
Behind her stood Tendō Kikunojo, his stern face radiating a natural authority that demanded respect.
Without preamble, he had come to visit—and immediately asked this question.
However, the Holy Child knew: he had discovered that she was the one who released the highly confidential information online.
She wasn't surprised. He had probably known days ago.
Though her authority was theoretically higher, in the face of the power wielded by Tendō Kikunojo, it meant little.
It was only natural that he could trace it back to her.
"You haven't even given up on pushing the New Gastrea Law!"
Tendō Kikunojo's voice was low and harsh, carrying a suppressed anger.
Today, he had been forced to come in person.
Not only because the Holy Child had exposed those secrets, but because the New Gastrea Law had appeared on his desk once again.
That was beyond what he could tolerate.
Exposing state secrets had already thrown Tokyo into a disastrous state—foreign retaliation loomed, and the people were on the verge of revolt.
And yet, at such a time, she still insisted on fanning the flames!
How could he possibly allow the Holy Child to continue this reckless behavior?!
"—!"
Suddenly, Tendō Kikunojo's pupils contracted sharply.
For the first time, shock and unease broke across his ever-stern face.
Reflected in his sharp eyes was a chilling sight:
The Holy Child had turned around. Her exquisite face was full of sorrow, tears gliding down her pale cheeks.
In her hand gleamed a pair of scissors, the sharp tip pressed against her slender white neck. Her trembling fingers betrayed her surging emotions.
A bead of bright red blood had already welled upon her fair skin.
That heartbreaking image pierced directly into Tendō Kikunojo's eyes.
"You... you..." His voice trembled, rare for him. "Foolishness!"
His face darkened like iron, his aged yet still imposing frame exuding crushing pressure, like a lion on the verge of rage.
"Do you know what you are doing?!"
His voice rose sharply, filled with disbelief and fury.
"For those filthy little beasts, you would go this far?!"
His tone sank lower, bitter and furious. "Why?! Who deceived you with such lies?!
I will not forgive him!"
"I am searching for that answer as well, Lord Tendō..."
The Holy Child's gaze grew only sadder.
"Why can't you accept those innocent children? They are just children. They did nothing wrong. They even became heroes protecting humanity."
Now, the two had laid their cards on the table.
The Holy Child knew it had always been Tendō Kikunojo standing in her way, and he no longer bothered to deny it.
The Holy Childs of the past would never have dared such a thing, because the title of Holy Child had always been hollow.
Three Holy Children had come and gone in the last decade, and none were remembered.
By contrast, she had barely been in office for two years, while Tendō Kikunojo had been a power broker even before the Gastrea War.
She had needed his support. Without him, she would never have had even a scrap of real power.
"Children? They are monsters! They carry the same blood as the Gastrea! What difference is there between them and those creatures? Only that they wear the faces of humans?"
"Your kindness should not be wasted here!"
"..."
The Holy Child closed her eyes, tears spilling from the corners.
His words shattered her last illusion, making her realize she could never persuade him.
"Lord Tendō, please stop standing in my way."
When the girl opened her eyes again, beyond the deep sorrow lay an unshakable resolve.
"You... I cannot understand you."
Not only why would she go so far for these so-called children… but why would she choose such a radical path?
Tokyo was a powder keg, ready to ignite at the slightest spark.
And still, she pressed forward.
"Even if I don't stop you, you will change nothing. You will only make it worse! Riots will break out for real!"
The opposition was overwhelming, yet she insisted. It was nothing less than forcing her will upon everyone.
Did she really think people would, without a single word, accept it? That a single law could change anything?
...
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