······.
Mr. Epi was barely hanging on by a thread.
Where his once-relaxed arms and legs had been, twisted prosthetics had been forcibly jammed in, as if they'd been shoved into place against their will.
That, that insane psychopath bastard...
"Mr. Epi!!!"
Sinclair cried out in shock at the sight of his half-dead state, but by then he was already so wrecked he could barely speak.
"······."
"At that rate, the average time until complete death is about two days."
"Being slowly impaled on the pole will only double the pain."
"Manager, I know a way to send someone off with as little pain as possible."
"It's a technique that's been used quite often..."
"May I request an order?"
Otis, who usually never took the initiative to do anything unless it involved Mr. Dante, spoke up first.
Was Epi's condition really that severe?
Or maybe this had something to do with her past.
Dante, unable to find an answer, turned to Gregor and Ishmael.
Probably because they were the experienced ones who'd seen this sort of thing before.
But even they, unable to find a proper answer, only lowered their heads in silence.
And then Dante looked at me last.
···.
I didn't have much I could do.
"...If we look at it coldly, assuming Mr. Epi stays alive for two full days, the after-team will probably come and carry out a rescue operation."
"But there's no guarantee Mr. Epi will still be alive by the time rescue arrives."
"From here on, we're going underground, where we won't know when we'll come back out. And while we're down there, no matter what happens above, we won't be able to do anything."
"Considering that crazy woman's personality, she might kill him the moment we go in. If we do come back out, she may only then report it and let us despair."
<······.>
Dante lowered their head.
They must have realized there was no hope.
"...And Mr. Sword's whereabouts are also unknown. Even if he survives, if Mr. Sword is dead, then at that point..."
<...Stop. You don't need to say any more.>
······Yeah. I guess I've finally gone mad too.
Just look at me spouting things I didn't need to say.
Seeing the situation settled, Otis slowly walked toward Epi.
And then—
Swish.
"...Rest easy."
With one heavy, distant farewell, she let him go.
Thud.
Otis's collar brushed past, and his head rolled across the floor.
Silence spread among the prisoners...
I wanted to have a moment to mourn him in that silence, but Kromer's laughter soon tore through it and came crashing in.
"Pfft... Bwahahahaha!!"
"Ah."
And at the same time, it looked like something inside Sinclair had shattered.
"You're all going to end up the same way anyway, so this little act of caring is hilarious!"
Ah... should I just forget the mission and everything else and charge her?
I could feel my patience nearing its limit.
If she pushed me a little more, I really might lunge.
"Sinclair, doesn't this bring back old memories?"
"Back then, your face was really something worth seeing too."
"Kromer."
"You have to die."
"Yes, I think that's right."
···Even Sinclair seemed to be losing his mind now.
And fair enough. I was barely holding myself back from charging in and driving a spear through that face myself.
"You're going to be in my hands..."
Then I heard the slow scrape of nails dragging across the floor.
"...So you're that Guido bastard."
He had definitely gone all out in his attack earlier, but somehow in that short span of time he'd already recovered; there wasn't a single trace of injury on him as he walked toward us.
Was he getting pumped full of ampoules or something? Damn, he's durable.
It was exhausting.
I'd fought him in a battle where one hit meant death and still subdued him alone, and now he was standing there with a perfectly fine face as if nothing had happened.
"Guido, why didn't you finish off the rest?"
"Forgive me, O Mouse-Bearer. I was lacking."
"You must always stay vigilant. You never know what's hiding inside that damned sheet-metal head."
"I will keep that in mind, O Mouse-Bearer."
"The reunion is over, so I'm going back."
With that, Kromer walked into the house where the fire was blazing.
"Kromer!!!"
"Come back! I'll... I'll grab you with these hands and..."
Sinclair screamed with a voice full of hatred.
As if he were trying to vent every last grievance in his heart, he poured all his fury into that cry.
"No, Sinclair."
But Kromer calmly cut him off, smiling with a grin stretched so wide it was almost grotesque.
"It's always been like this..."
As if she meant to swallow us up along with the fire.
"I'm the one doing the grabbing."
Then she laughed again and disappeared completely into the flames.
I wanted to drive a spear through her back, but there was still an enemy in front of us...
"Aaaaaaah!!!"
Sinclair?
"Hey, you—!"
Before anyone could stop him, Sinclair shook off Mr. Heathcliff and dashed after Kromer, who had vanished from sight.
He was quickly blocked by one of the inquisitors still nearby, but...
Crack!
Seeing that, Sinclair swung his weapon with a speed utterly unlike his usual self and smashed the head of the one grabbing him.
Thud.
The inquisitor collapsed to the ground without even managing a death cry.
Sinclair charging off in a sudden outburst like that was a sight none of us had seen on this whole journey.
"...What? If you were going to do that, why were you just skulking around in the back all this time?"
Mr. Heathcliff muttered at Sinclair with a dumbfounded expression.
"This one has a clear memory of having stopped your breathing."
"I distinctly saw brain matter leaking through the gaps in the skull."
···Come to think of it, when we were running away, some of the prisoners were being dragged off as corpses.
He saw that while fighting me?
"And yet you heretics now stand before this one, feet planted on the ground."
"You're the one standing there looking absurdly fine, if anything..."
Guido looked carefully at Dante beyond the prisoners.
Then, for whatever insane reason, he nodded to himself.
"You, the one who leads the heretics."
"You must surely be the one bewitching your followers."
Then he gestured toward the corpses pinned with countless nails.
"Those people committed the grave sin of intruding upon the center of a sacred rite with their filthy bodies."
"Thus, they were given the same punishment as heretics."
"They were also made to suffer the shame of having a machine, an alien object, driven into their bodies against their will."
As he said that, Guido glanced back at us.
"But you are different."
"The sin of following heresy is lighter than the sin of heresy itself."
"So, if you wish to repent and cleanse your hearts..."
"Our hammers are willing to forgive you."
...What utter bullshit.
"So, poor and foolish sinners who have faced temptation."
"Cast off that false miracle and come kneel before me."
At that deranged speech, the atmosphere sank completely.
No one here looked like they wanted to say a word.
So now they don't even treat Dante like a human being? That whole group.
Dante tossed out a pointless joke, but no one laughed.
"Mr. Dante... what that man said... was insulting you. He's saying you're not even human."
"That's different! Besides, I never even called you that..."
Ishmael snorted and swallowed the rest of her words.
She must have realized saying it wouldn't change anything.
"You think you can just throw out some vaguely convincing words and that's enough..."
"The one who needs to get out of here is you, masked freak. Do you really have a head on your shoulders and still think like that?"
Wow, Mr. Heathcliff agreeing with Ishmael? That's rare.
Anyway, once Guido realized our opinion wasn't changing, he slowly opened his mouth again.
"I have already provided ample opportunity."
"You are no different from those who were hung and pierced."
"I am a hammer."
···Doesn't he get embarrassed saying stuff like that?
"A tool entrusted by the Mouse-Bearer to pierce the bodies of heretics and accomplish a great work."
"I shall nail you down and place you far, far from the earth."
"Those who do not repent of their sins..."
"Hey, when does that goddamn long-winded crap end?"
"...Shall not even return to the earth."
And then he pointed the nails at us.
I felt completely drained, but I gripped my spear and felt the familiar sensation of an identity overlaying me.
Even so, we still had to avenge Mr. Epi.
Clack.
First, take down that monster fast.
**
I'd said it with confidence, but even borrowing the power of a Seven Association identity, beating him wasn't easy.
Clang!
"Kgh..."
Especially not when it was one-on-one like before.
I hadn't originally intended to take him alone, but maybe because I'd charged in first earlier, I naturally ended up handling him by myself.
Clang!
"Ghk..."
Every time I knocked away his weapon, a numbing pain shot through my arm.
Just how much strength did he have?
One bad hit and I'd be dead on the spot.
Whoosh!
Sweat gathered in my palm.
Maybe he'd studied my earlier fighting style and figured out how to counter it, because he wasn't giving me any openings.
This was getting rough...
Swish—
...He'd just nicked my cheek.
Now it was really dangerous.
At this rate, there was no answer.
Guido would slowly wear me down... and then move in to devour me once I was spent.
...Was there no way out of this except gambling everything?
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—
My eyes locked onto every movement of his body, searching for even the slightest opening.
The motion of the nails swinging. If I could seize even one chance in between...
Then my eyes read Guido's movement exactly.
A horizontal slash aimed at my head, his weight pitched forward, one foot thrust far out in front.
One opening revealed by that stance.
I didn't miss it.
...Now.
Whoosh!
I dropped my body low to evade his thrust.
At the same time, I slammed my elbow hard into his leg.
Thud!
Crack.
Damn it...
Using a fist against full plate armor is insane, seriously.
But the hit definitely landed.
If it hadn't, his step wouldn't have turned that awkward.
The price was my right arm, though.
So I can't use the spear anymore.
Clatter...
I tossed the spear to the floor and pulled a one-handed sword from inside my clothes.
It was a backup weapon, so it was a little smaller than a normal one-handed sword and not all that familiar, but it was better than trying to wield a two-handed spear with one hand.
The fact that it was my left hand was a variable, but it shouldn't be a huge problem.
I'd trained enough to use my left hand to some degree, just in case.
I leveled the one-handed sword at him and stood in a quiet standoff.
Even if I just stayed still like this, the prisoners were handling the other inquisitors, so it wasn't bad for me.
Whether he knew that or not, after taking a moment to steady his breathing, Guido came at me with a gait better than before.
Why the hell is he so fast?
Whoosh!
He was definitely slower than when he'd started, but much faster than after I'd smashed his foot.
It looked like some of the discomfort had worn off, but could that really happen this quickly?
Or was he actually getting pumped full of ampoules?
I felt the urge to investigate the source of that grotesque recovery hidden inside his armor, but I forced it down.
If I let myself worry about that, my head would really get taken off.
Clack, clack, whoosh!
He was still pressing after me as I dodged by any means possible.
Hah... I'm really going to die.
Maybe it was just my imagination, but Guido's attacks had somehow gotten faster.
And I was getting slower as my stamina drained away.
To make matters worse, after my right arm got wrecked, my sense of balance had become shaky too.
Meanwhile, the enemy kept getting faster.
Just as I was starting to sense death closing in, I heard the sound of something striking the back of his head.
"Your condition is hardly a sight for sore eyes. Are you all right?"
Ha, they sure got here fast...
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