The Inquisitor’s hand was consud in white flas. He beat at it frantically, tried to shake it off, but the fla was not ordinary. It seared his armor onto his skin in seconds, fusing tal to flesh. He staggered, stumbled into a tree, fell and rolled — and still it wasn’t coming off.
The flas, even as they touched other parts of his body, didn’t spread to those parts. It was a strange white fla that just persistently burned the target I had set it to burn. Nothing more, nothing less.
He was on the ground now, breathing hard. He’d stopped shouting the mont he fell. Now he was just despairing, struggling to stand.
anwhile, I had quite the cattywampus smile on my face.
"Listen, pretty boy. This is simple." I kept my voice casual, conversational, like we were discussing the weather instead of his flesh cooking inside his gauntlet. "You must have observed that fla by now. It’s a holy fla, and it won’t stop burning until I have enough essence to make it stop. Your lasso, of course, is stopping from reaching my essence."
My grin spread wider, blood-stained teeth revealing themselves with manic glee.
"So, all you have to do to prevent your hand from burning to a crisp is to let go." I let the silence hang for a beat. "Dude."
Everything went silent once again with just the crackling of the flas and the pain behind each ragged breath he took.
Then his voice made it out... hoarsely. First ca a short, broken chuckle.
"You... you... don’t know ."
He gritted his teeth, dug his good hand into the ground, and shouted at :
"If I have to burn to nothing for a heretic like you to be punished for their actions, then so be it! My life is only an insignificant lampstand that serves to guide people into the light — I shall do no otherwise! If dying is what it takes?! Then SO BE IT."
He breathed harshly again, panting through clenched teeth.
"There are thousands, millions more people like . Killing is rather insignificant."
The grin on my face was wiped away by his response.
’He’s crazy!’
Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who was comfortable with madness.
These people were too. Although in a very twisted and pitiful manner — laying out their lives for soone else’s mandate. Believing they owed everything to a cause just because they were taught so, or perhaps because they’d received the good end of the stick sowhere along the way. They’re blinded by their own hypocrisy and are the worst of humans to exist. Unable to see the cruelty that they’ve shaped the world into, because they believe it is for justice.
People like this pretty boy... I was sure he was only a victim himself. It made him no less a sinner to .
But it made him rather pitiful.
I shook my head.
"Such... resolve." The words ca out tired. "It would’ve been so comndable if it served your own selfish purpose rather than blinded patriotism."
I heaved a sigh.
"Alright then. I guess we will both die."
I let myself fall back against the tree and looked up. Everything was brighter now. The birds — completely ignorant of our presence — were singing to each other with rather astonishing twinkles, their calls weaving through the canopy like nothing below them mattered.
I closed my eyes and tried to access The Nave, but it was futile. There was nothing. Just the endless darkness behind my eyelids.
’This is how I’m going to die...’
I felt sorry. I felt sorry for Lira. Sorry for Kassie, who got to live again thanks to . I felt sorry for everyone I t.
And I tried to think about what dying would be like.
But it was just too difficult.
Picturing not getting to comfortably slap Kassie’s ass, not getting to a point where she becos so free with that we fuck each other every day and night... it was not easy at all. After over five years of gooning, I was just going to lose it to what?
Death?
Hell no.
I didn’t survive this far to co and die now because of so bastard’s fine face.
My eyes flung open, narrowing with sothing vicious.
’You want to be mad, don’t you? Fine. But I’ll have to show you who’s madder between the two of us.’
I pulled myself away from the tree with my weight, staggering, swaying — but I managed to stand. Moving wobbly, I walked closer to him and reached where he knelt, silently writhing in pain, clawing his good hand into the ground while muttering sothing I wasn’t ready to patiently hear.
I looked down at him. My upper body was still bound by the ropes. Drenched in blood.
"Hey, bitch! Release the fucking rope."
I raised my leg and smashed it into his head before he could look up.
He tried to put up his defense but was disoriented — torn between the searing agony in his arm and possibly a sustained concussion from the way I’d just caved my foot into his skull.
He tried to get up.
I shoved another kick right into his face.
"Release the rope, you piece of crap."
If he simply wanted to be unfortunate, I was simply going to help him be suprely unfortunate. This... this had nothing to do with returning the favor for the brutal face-lift he’d given earlier. The one I hadn’t asked for.
Nothing at all.
"Release your fucking rope."
I smashed another kick into his head. His back. Stomped on him like I was killing a river of ants.
"Release the rope, goddamnit!"
"You psycho! Release the fucking ropes!"
At so point, he just curled up, writhing in pain as he received the beating. His face was marred with dirt now, all the pristine gleam of his armor gone. Even his perfect hair was caked with filth.
’Why isn’t he summoning his wyvern?’
It was strange that we weren’t moving, that his spirit beast hadn’t swooped in to save him. But for him to have pulled this ambush, he must have sighted the burning bush and flown here on full throttle. He probably needed a full essence replenishnt to summon his wyvern spirit again.
Which ant this was my ti to really beat the shit out of him.
But not just that. As I stomped my feet on him, I also tried to pull on the edges of my essence once more. I could feel the rope biting in, constricting, fighting — but I pulled harder.
I used what little essence I managed to scrape together to spread the fire to other parts of his body. His legs. His face.
Two things I noticed: one, how much longer it was taking him to burn compared to Spirit Beasts, and two, the bastard was really persevering.
When the flas reached his face though, it was a different story. He was suffocating in the heat, gasping, rolling on the floor with his hands clawing at nothing.
But the bastard still wasn’t going to release the rope.
Then sothing changed about the atmosphere.
There was a soft rustle. The tree before shook — slightly, slowly — and I raised my head to look at it.
There...
On top of the tree was a young lady with long platinum-white hair and crimson glowing eyes, crouching on a branch. She looked like a demon who had just sighted a pile of sumptuous flesh for breakfast.
At that mont, I stood still and cursed my wretched fate.
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