The mansion stood tall and ominous, just as grand and magnificent as ever so much so that it could be mistaken for a royal palace. But tonight, something was different. The glow it once had seemed swallowed by shadow. Though its structure was untouched, it felt darker, colder more lifeless than even the most worn-down buildings in the cursed city.
Ritsuka, Anastasia, and Jeanne stepped into the mansion's courtyard. Unlike before, there was no need to sneak or hide. Not a single enemy greeted them. The silence was unnatural.
"It's like a ghost mansion," Anastasia muttered, hugging her Vivi doll tightly.
"A house is where people live," Ritsuka replied, his eyes scanning the empty windows above. "And when no one lives in it… it just becomes a vessel for fear. This place, with so much empty space, only gives your imagination more room to run wild."
The mansion had been deserted ever since the witch seized the city. Once the grandest home in the entire region, it now stood as an eerie monument to the fallen.
"The witch and Gilles made it this way," Jeanne said quietly. "He's using this mansion as the ritual's core."
"In a way," Ritsuka said, "this mansion is the evil god's temple now."
"Then it's safe to assume they've laid every trap they could for us," Jeanne added, trying to sound cheerful.
Ritsuka smirked at her attempt to lift the mood.
"Even though we've cut off much of their power, they still have the Holy Grail. And I'm sure Gilles finished restoring that thing he called the 'Key.'"
He paused. "Normally, we'd call for reinforcements. But we don't have the luxury of time."
"I know," Jeanne answered without hesitation.
"It can't be helped we'll have to fix this with just the three of us," Ritsuka continued. "It won't be easy. Are you ready?"
Jeanne looked down at her flagstaff. It was more than a weapon it was a vow. A promise to protect the world and the people she cherished in the name of the Lord.
She turned to Ritsuka, her eyes burning with conviction.
"I am prepared."
Ritsuka chuckled lightly and tapped her shoulder. "Good. But don't go overboard. You're not alone in this."
Anastasia raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you at least a little nervous?"
Both she and Jeanne turned toward Ritsuka, expecting a rousing, heroic speech. What they got instead caught them off guard.
"Of course I'm nervous," Ritsuka said plainly. "But I'm still going forward to fight, and to live."
The two girls blinked, stunned by his brutal honesty.
Seeing their expressions, Ritsuka shrugged. "What? It's okay to admit our weakness. Doesn't make us any less brave."
"…I'm nervous too," Jeanne admitted with a small laugh. Her tension eased. Even with her unwavering resolve, Ritsuka's honesty grounded her.
As expected of Master Ritsuka, she thought. So human. So strong because of it.
Then, Ritsuka extended his hand toward her.
"Jeanne… if you don't mind, let me be your temporary Master for this battle. Gudako might be delayed, and I'd rather not leave anything to chance."
Jeanne's expression softened with a smile. "Of course. That's what I wanted to ask you, too."
And just like that, the pact was sealed—Master and Servant, bound by trust.
Ritsuka stepped back, taking a deep breath.
"Okay… time to change. I've stored enough energy..."
He crossed his arms, grinning.
"HENSHIN!"
Light erupted around him as he transformed into Kamen Rider 1. The iconic red scarf fluttered behind him, his body armored and ready for war.
"Let's head to where the cockroach-head statue is."
But before they could take a step—
BOOM!
A massive fireblast tore through the mansion, sending shockwaves that shattered windows and crushed stone. The heat was blinding.
"Behind me!" Anastasia shouted, raising her hand as a dome of ice expanded around them. The fire slammed into the barrier, steam exploding in all directions but they were safe.
The flames cleared.
A mocking, familiar voice rang through the smoke.
"Hahaha… I was so bored waiting for the ritual to finish."
From the shattered remains of the upper balcony, Witch Jeanne appeared floating like a phantom, eyes burning red aura with power.
"Now," she purred, lips curling in a wicked smile, "I can finally play with you."
The smoke still lingered, curling in the cold air like specters. Witch Jeanne hovered above the shattered ruins, her arms outstretched as though she were welcoming them into her domain. The golden glow from her eyes cast long, unnatural shadows.
Anastasia narrowed her eyes, her voice cold and sharp.
"So you destroyed the city's most beautiful mansion just to make a villain-style entrance? Tacky."
Witch Jeanne twitched, her playful smirk faltering for a split second.
"Still running your mouth, Snow doll? I'll carve that arrogance off your face and keep what's useful. I might even turn you into a corrupted ice doll."
Her gaze swept toward Ritsuka and Jeanne.
"Three people. Just three?" she sneered. "Did you really think this was enough to stop me? Where are your little soldiers, your precious pawns?"
Her laughter rang out, sharp and high. "Ahbut I see. You did send that little red hair girl off to fetch more of your pets. How thoughtful of you!"
Jeanne's brow furrowed, confused. "Why are you so pleased…? You're not even trying to stop us from bringing reinforcements."
Her unease only deepened. Something was off. Terribly off.
They'd handled the ambush. The fire. The witch's entrance. But Jeanne's chest tightened with dread, and her grip on her flag tightened.
"Master," she whispered to Ritsuka. "Why is she so calm? Like nothing's happening to the ritual. Didn't we weaken it?"
Her voice trembled with urgency, but Ritsuka ever steady only stared ahead.
"They still have power," he said flatly.
"How?!" Jeanne's voice cracked. "We cut off their leyline connections to statues with magic patterns. Their ritual should've lost its strength!"
"…There's only one answer," Ritsuka said after a pause,
"The ritual didn't lose its power, Saint Jeanne."
"!!!"
But it wasn't Ritsuka who had said that.
The voice echoed from behind them, smooth and sinister.
Crumble
The remains of the once-majestic mansion began to tremble again. Rubble shifted. A deep, humming sound reverberated beneath the ground.
Jeanne's eyes darted toward the gaping hole at the mansion's heart.
No… something's still alive in there.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a strange glimmer. Floating just above the rubble, wreathed in an unnatural light
"…the evil god's statue…?"
It hovered, defiant, as if to mock her faith.
Puff
A new figure appeared beside it, as though the smoke itself had formed into a body.
"Isn't it beautiful?" the voice asked calm, nostalgic, terrifyingly familiar.
Jeanne's breath caught. She turned, heart sinking.
"…Gilles."
The figure smiled. Older. More refined. But those eyes still burned with obsession.
"Ah, how nostalgic… being called by that name, by your voice."
Jeanne's body tensed. "This… isn't how it should be."
Gilles chuckled, voice soaked in madness. "This is exactly how it should be, Saint. You… with your weak, fragile heart, could never understand the truth of this world."
He spread his arms toward the cracked sky. "It is a world of monsters demons in human skin. And I… I am simply their reaper."
He pointed toward the statue, its form starting to pulse with dark, divine light.
"This ritual will complete their purification. My god commands it, and I shall obey."
Jeanne's fists shook. Her soul cried for justice. But her anger wouldn't help now. She forced herself to breathe, to stay calm.
This wasn't about vengeance. Not yet.
She needed to understand the full scope of what they were facing.
"It seems like you willingly did all this on your own," Jeanne said, her voice hollow, not quite believing what she was seeing.
"Of course," Gilles replied proudly, like a mad composer speaking of his magnum opus. "I am the one who orchestrated this entire ritual. I take full responsibility. And my saint here" he motioned toward the Witch Jeanne, who beamed with twisted pride, "supports me completely. This is the beginning of a new world. A ritual for our great god."
"…You can't."
Jeanne's voice trembled, her throat dry. There was a pit in her stomach, heavy and suffocating. She looked at Gilles, at what he had become, and guilt stabbed at her heart.
Did I fail you this deeply…?
Even so, she forced herself to respond. "But your ritual's power… it weakened. The undead forces started decreasing. That's proof you're lying. It was losing strength. The deadline was pushed back!"
At that, both Gilles and the Witch burst into laughter. It wasn't human. It wasn't joyous. It was pure, mocking cruelty laughs that stabbed into the ears and burned the soul.
"I even got reports that you guys were working diligently to block the ritual from happening,"Witch Jeanne continued, forcing herself to speak from laugh. "I admired your persistence… but I suppose I must offer you a little disappointing news."
Jeanne knew. Deep down, she knew something was wrong but she had hoped. Hoped they were making a difference.
Yet Gilles and the Witch looked anything but disappointed. Their eyes gleamed, their smiles widened. The Witch tilted her head with amusement, her voice gleeful and sharp.
"Everything you did? Useless. Every. Single. Thing. None of it ever touched the ritual. Not even a scratch!"
Jeanne felt like the sky collapsed.
Her knees almost gave out, her flag trembling in her grasp. Her entire body shook from the soul-crushing realization. She couldn't stop it. Couldn't think. Couldn't breathe.
"Why…?" she whispered. "We saw the weakening… the undead were vanishing!"
"Ah, yes," the Witch interrupted sweetly, almost singing the words, "That was my idea. I had Gilles manipulate the battlefield, create illusions, reduce the undead manually just enough to trick you. You thought you were winning. Wasn't it such a beautiful lie?"
"You c-controlled all of it…?"
"Yes," Gilles said with a proud, sinister grin. "Every heartbeat, every shadow, every foul breath of decay all under our command."
Witch Jeanne winked at her holy counterpart.
"When the ritual completes, I'll command legions of the dead with no limit. But I thought, why rush it? This was far more entertaining watching you dance around thinking you were making progress. In a way, it's the greatest performance of my life."
Snap!
Gilles snapped his fingers.
Swoosh!
The ground behind them began to churn violently. A massive ripple spread out—then another. Then bursts.
Swoosh! Swoosh!
One after another, monstrous forms began emerging from the water's depths—hulking corpses, nightmarish amalgamations, and cursed knights clad in rotting armor.
Within seconds, a vast army surrounded them, dozens, then hundreds, forming a complete encirclement around Ritsuka, Jeanne, and Anastasia.
Each undead creature radiated heavy pressure not the weak foot soldiers they'd faced before. These were elite, high-class monsters raised by a fully empowered ritual.
Jeanne's mouth moved, but nothing came out. Not a prayer. Not a cry. Not even a breath.
She was frozen.
The trap had been perfect.
They had been played.
"As you can see," Gilles said, raising his arms like a conductor before a choir of corpses, "I can summon undead and monsters with no problem."
The abominations began advancing, not toward the center, but beyond the perimeter spreading like a plague across the surrounding area. Jeanne's eyes widened as she realized their path.
"Are you… going to attack the citizens?!" she shouted, panic overtaking her voice.
"Ah, don't worry," Gilles replied with a sickening calm. "Not yet. I plan to personally deal with them later. For now, they're just expanding the perimeter. You understand, I'm being extra cautious this time. You escaped once, saint but you won't again."
The Witch Jeanne scratched her chin playfully, looking up at the dark sky as if contemplating.
"But… if you do try to resist," she said with a singsong lilt, "I might order Gilles to play with some innocent citizens."
As if on cue, faint screams echoed from the distance gasps, panicked shouts, the distant crashing of carts. It wasn't a massacre, not yet. The undead were holding position like watchful sentries.
Jeanne inhaled sharply, a shaky breath escaping her lips. They're alive. For now.
But how long would that last?
She turned her gaze to Ritsuka.
He stood still, holding Ridol firmly, his eyes scanning the enemy. Anastasia stood beside him, frost swirling at her feet. But her attention was locked on Ritsuka her voice breaking the silence.
"…What happened?" she asked, her voice flat but tight with tension.
"What do you mean?" Ritsuka replied, eyes not leaving the Witch.
"You told me the ritual was weakening. You said what we did was working!"
Before Ritsuka could respond, Gilles stepped forward like a stage actor basking in the spotlight.
"Ah, I believe I can answer that," he said, his grin widening. "You tried to disrupt the ritual by scribbling nonsense on the statues believing that the power was being funneled through them and could be released into the atmosphere. That central statue," he pointed lazily to the altar, "you thought was the core. And he " his eyes darted to Ritsuka "fed you that nonsense."
Gilles tilted his head, mockingly thoughtful.
"But I'm afraid none of that was true. I'm a loyal follower of the Great God. And I assure you this ritual cannot be stopped."
Jeanne's heart dropped like a stone. Her knees wavered. Everything every effort, every moment of resistance it was all for nothing?
"I can't believe you actually trusted his words," Witch Jeanne said, laughing bitterly. "When I saw those pathetic little drawing weird pictures on the statues, I nearly burst into tears. Did you honestly think you were drawing magic circles?"
Her voice dripped venomous condescension.
"You're so naive, saint. Or maybe you were just desperate. Desperate enough to cling to any hope, no matter how hollow. You wanted to believe, didn't you?"
She turned her mocking smile on Ritsuka expecting shame, or guilt, or fear.
But Ritsuka's expression didn't change Under his mask.
He didn't flinch. He didn't blink.
Silent. Still.
"…Then," Jeanne asked slowly, "are you saying the ritual can be completed right now?"
"Yeah," Gilles said. "All the pieces are in place. But we need few sacrifices and I'm sure your friends would bring them here."
"Then why…?" Jeanne's voice cracked. "Why go through all this? Why pretend? Why deceive us into thinking we were winning?!"
Gilles' smile faded into something darker sincere, almost reverent.
"…Because of you, saint."
"…Me?" Jeanne whispered.
"I want you to witness it," Gilles said, voice low and trembling with madness. "To watch the destruction of humanity unfold with your own eyes. That will be my true salvation."
He took a step closer, something unhinged flickering in his eyes.
"When you were first summoned to this city, I was overjoyed. I thought it was divine will that my god had blessed me. But then you ran. As always… as expected of you… you escaped me."
And for the first time
Gilles' voice cracked.
Not with joy. Not with madness.
But with displeasure.
It was personal.
To him, Jeanne's resistance wasn't just a threat.
It was a betrayal.
"When I first tried to capture you, I failed because of bad luck," Gilles said, eyes glinting with cruel amusement. "The second time, I failed because those brats"he sneered, glancing at Ritsuka and Jeanne"damaged the Key. Honestly, when that man next to you said he would escape right in front of me, I felt all the energy leave my body. I thought I would never have another chance to catch you again."
He chuckled darkly, but then his expression shifted to something almost nostalgic.
"But then, he said something very funny."
Gilles leaned forward, voice low and taunting.
"He said he knew how to interrupt the ritual. That you Jeanne would come back to destroy the main statue."
At those words, Gilles's face brightened with renewed hope, as if he'd caught a second wind.
"So I planned it all. I made sure you both believed you were actually blocking the ritual leading you to appear before me again. Wasn't it strange? Wasn't it odd how easily you found those statues, even with zombies guarding them?"
Jeanne's mind reeled. She had quieted her doubts at the time, thinking it was simply Ritsuka's incredible skill. But now… yes, it had been far too easy and too quick.
"To make sure you found the statues without trouble, I assigned plenty of zombies as guards. You didn't know it, but you fell right into my trap. Nicely done."
Jeanne's voice trembled as she whispered, "…So you never intended to stop us."
Gilles shrugged, a malicious grin spreading wide.
"Even if I'd ordered my zombies to capture you, they wouldn't have found you. Why waste time on pointless things when I knew you'd show up when I wanted you to? That's why I even let your 'stupid' plans unfold."
He mocked Ritsuka's earlier confidence with a cruel laugh.
They had been nothing but pawns, playing right into Gilles' hands.
"But don't be too disappointed. Because of you, I delayed the ritual. You've extended the lives of this city these citizens for a few more days."
He flashed a giant, twisted smile.
"With that, you've done your share."
"Did we satisfy your curiosity?" Witch Jeanne purred, folding her arms. "I wanted you to come back here because I'm about to execute the ritual. I can't let you get swept up in it after all the work we put in."
Jeanne's eyes narrowed as she spoke quietly but firmly, "That's why you waited for us because it doesn't matter anymore if you're caught once we come here."
Witch Jeanne nodded, a dark smile curling on her lips. "Yes. It doesn't matter anymore because everyone in this city will soon become fuel for our future ritual. We don't have to try anymore. Once the ritual starts, it will consume all offerings servants and humans alike. It will grow stronger and grant power to me. I will destroy humanity."
Jeanne closed her eyes briefly, a storm of emotions raging inside regret, sorrow, determination. When she opened them again, Witch Jeanne was taken aback by the calm steel in her gaze.
"Should I have expected this from a Saint?" Witch Jeanne said with mock surprise. "In that short time, you calmed yourself down."
Jeanne's voice was steady, almost gentle. "It's thanks to all the surprises you planned for me."
Witch Jeanne laughed coldly. "No matter how many experiences you gain, it's all the better for us. Your efforts have been meaningless."
Jeanne tightened her grip on her staff. "You never know until the end."
Witch Jeanne smirked, eyes gleaming with malice. "Well, I salute your bravery. I threatened you with the citizens' lives a moment ago, but I won't hold them hostage. They're all going to be fuel for our ritual anyway. But go ahead, try your best."
Snap!
Gilles snapped his fingers again.
Thud!
The undead creatures and monsters advanced as one, their sheer numbers forcing Anastasia to take a cautious step back, despite her fierce resolve.
"Master Ritsuka."
"Yes."
Ritsuka still hadn't spoken since their first encounter with Gilles. Jeanne understood why he probably felt guilty for unintentionally putting them in more danger. But Jeanne didn't blame him. In fact, despite the looming horror, she wanted to tell him this:
"I don't blame you at all."
She gave Ritsuka a soft smile, even amidst the chaos.
"Instead, I am thankful to you. Even though the outcome is grim, it doesn't change that you kept trying to help me. No, if you weren't here, my life might have ended in that dirty alley where you found me."
Witch Jeanne sneered, "What a touching sight."
Jeanne ignored the taunt completely.
"Even if your efforts were clumsy, I now know for sure that you truly tried to save humanity. That kindness of yours is precious rare. It'll be hard, but try to run away and join Lady Gudako, Anastasia. Please go with him. I will try my best to stop them."
Her voice faltered for only a moment before steadying again.
"And remember this no matter how many people laughed at your efforts and your dreams, I always cheered for you."
"Hey, hey," Witch sneered, her eyes glinting cruelly. "There's no way I'll let him go. Don't try to protect him like that. It's too good for someone like him."
She turned sharply back to Ritsuka, her voice dripping with scorn.
"And you should take responsibility too. You kept giving this woman false hope, swinging her here and there. Take responsibility put your life on the line. If you're a man, you should at least do that. Even if you didn't know anything…"
"What is it that I didn't know?" Ritsuka finally spoke, his voice calm and measured despite the chaos around them.
Witch blinked, caught off guard by his unnervingly steady tone.
'Does this bastard not realize the situation he's in?' she thought.
After all, he was the one who scrawled those strange, crude drawings the so-called magic circles on the statues. Maybe he wasn't completely sane to begin with.
"Those weird drawings you put on the statues I don't know where you got the idea they'd work, but all your efforts were useless. Instead of solving the problem, you just played right into my hand and drove yourselves into a corner."
"Ah, that?" Ritsuka's voice remained calm, as if he was revealing something trivial. Then, casually, he dropped the bomb.
"I already knew all that."
"What do you mean?"
"I knew you were trying to lure Jeanne in, so you were helping us get to the statues."
A stunned silence fell over the group.
Witch, Gilles, Anastasia, and Jeanne bitter enemies on every front found themselves united in shock. Their eyes widened, locking onto Ritsuka's calm gaze.
Even Gilles's shock seemed to ripple through the undead horde, which suddenly froze.
"…Sigh. I have no time for your nonsense. If that's true, why did you bring the Saint to me?"
"Obviously," Ritsuka said, gripping his ridol tightly and swinging it to emphasize his point, "it was to end you guys."
Witch Jeanne scoffed. "And how exactly do you plan to do that? Do you seriously think you have any chance of victory right now?"
They were surrounded by monsters and undead. Even with Ritsuka skill, escape seemed impossible.
On top of that they have holy grail.
"It'd be impossible with just the two of us."
Annoying to admit, but true.
But that was exactly why Ritsuka had devised this double-trap plan.
"Did you seriously think I went around drawing those darn magic circles because I believed they had some kind of effect on your power?" Ritsuka asked coldly.
"…!"
"…!"
The hearts of Witch, Gilles, Anastasia, and Jeanne all took another sharp blow.
"…You went around drawing those magic circles even though you knew they had no effect?"
"Yeah."
"For what purpose?"
Gilles and Witch exchanged uneasy glances. Until now, they'd believed they had been the ones manipulating the game looking down on Ritsuka, Jeanne, and Anastasia. But if Ritsuka was telling the truth, their feeling of superiority was nothing but a fragile illusion. The entire situation was about to flip on its head.
Ritsuka kept his calm as he explained.
"First of all, the reason we came here is simple. It's to bring down a faker like you."
"Faker?"
"Yeah. I know you're a faker not a real Saint."
Witch was silent. Then, after a pause, laughter burst out of him bitter, mocking, uncontrollable.
"Hahahahahaha! Faker? Are you even remembering what just came out of your mouth? Don't make me laugh!"
She clutched his stomach from laughing so hard, tears streaming down her face. Wiping them away, he growled, "Clearly, you're not in your right mind. Fine. Let's say everything is going according to your plan. What now? Are you going to tell me you lied about how it's impossible for just the two of you to beat me?"
"You're changing the subject. I said you're a faker. Do you even remember your mother? Do you know you killed Jeanne's mother?"
The place went still.
Witch's laughter died on her lips, her eyes widening with shock.
Jeanne's face twisted in pain, emotions flooding her.
"Real evil Jeanne or Jeanne would never do that."
Ritsuka simply shrugged, the faint smile never leaving his face under his mask.
"As I said… you're a faker."
"Stop it."
Witch Jeanne's voice trembled, but there was steel beneath the pain. Her eyes darted between Jeanne and Ritsuka, struggling to process the accusation.
"You don't understand," Jeanne whispered, clutching her staff tightly. "If … if you really did kill my mother… then what does that make me? Am I just a shadow of that sin?"
Witch's face twisted into a sneer,
She struggled to response to them. She doesn't know the feeling of mother.
"Jeanne, she is not your evil corrupted version. She's a faker. I think some other factor is behind her existence. Anyway, my plan is half completed."
"What?" Witch's smile vanished long ago, replaced by a hard edge.
"You said I was mistaken in thinking I could interrupt the ritual and went around destroying those statues. But that was never the real reason. I was buying time all along."
Witch's face stiffened as realization dawned.
"I never warned you I'd be destroying the statues for no reason. I did it to make you believe we would come back to you. I wanted you to push the date of the ritual."
Ritsuka's voice was light, even cheerful, despite the weight of the words. In stark contrast, Witch and Gilles' faces grew darker with frustration.
"I knew you'd delay the ritual because you wanted Jeanne to witness it. You helped us reach you sooner than planned. Funny, isn't it? How I tricked you into thinking we were in your palm the entire time."
"Master Ritsuka, are you saying everything we did everything that brought us here was part of your plan?"
"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying."
Jeanne and Anastasia's faces mirrored the shock of Witch and Gilles, maybe even more so.
"You tricked me, too."Jeanne said
"Yes," Anastasia said angrily
"That's because I didn't know how good you were at acting. Aren't you a bad liar for a saint? But whether or not you knew my plan didn't change its course."
Ritsuka's bold confidence silenced Jeanne.
"Didn't you tell me before? You apologized for doubting my knowledge, and I told you there was no need."
"…Was that just modesty?"
"No, it wasn't."
Jeanne, preparing for the fight of her life, suddenly felt all her strength drain.
"D-don't make me laugh!"
Witch, finally seeing she'd been outplayed, flushed bright red with fury.
"You tricked me!"
She snapped the words like a scorned lover accusing her cheating boyfriend.
To be continued…
---
Note: I know many have questions about Ritsuka plan but read the title of the chapter and wait for next chapter.