"You're serious?!"
The lord couldn't hide the shock on his face, quickly followed by barely-contained panic.
No surprise there. Nobody's gonna look peachy when they hear their town's about to be overrun by a demon army. Nero gave a calm nod to show he wasn't joking, then tossed out, "Get everyone to the church," before turning to track down Hernan.
The two of them were Ratvenchi's entire defense force right now. Protecting this town? It was all on them.
Hernan, though, had already gotten Mash's call and was waiting for Nero at the lord's mansion gate. They exchanged a quick glance and split up, each heading to a different part of town.
Nobody could say how many demons were coming or how the hell they'd spawned in that tiny cave. Those questions would have to wait until the dust settled. For now, Nero's job was to hold the line until Ritsuka and her four Heroic Spirits made it back.
What gnawed at Nero most was the lingering demonic aura blanketing the town—thick, oppressive, and impossible to shake.
"What a load of crap!"
A shrill shout shattered the town's uneasy quiet. The lord moved fast, rallying the townsfolk to gather in the church and pray to fend off the demon invasion. But unlike the plague scare last time, his orders hit some resistance.
Nero glanced over. The guy making a scene was a wealthy local, shoving past the guards trying to calm him. "Pray? What good's praying gonna do?!" he bellowed. "If my livestock die, you think prayers will bring 'em back?!"
Clearly, he was hung up on his pasture outside town. Tough luck—Nero and Hernan were stretched thin just trying to protect the church. Covering the whole town was out of the question. Nero felt a pang of guilt, but this guy's cows and sheep were a sacrifice they'd have to make.
The lord wasn't an idiot, just stubborn. Nero trusted he'd get it—even if it meant the guards roughing people up, everyone needed to be in that church.
But when discordant voices started popping up elsewhere on the streets, Nero's brow furrowed.
Something was seriously off.
His first thought: the demonic aura was messing with people's heads. Dealing with that was Georgios's specialty, but she was off with Ritsuka.
"The lord's been duped!"
A guy scrambled past the guards, climbing onto a rooftop and shouting, "Demons? Plagues? It's all a scam! That so-called saint's just a con artist! Once we're all in the church, they'll clean out our homes!"
The slander lit a fire in Nero's gut, but what pissed him off more was that people were buying it. The nonsense spread like wildfire, whispers turning into a chorus.
"Yeah, first a plague, now demons, and where's this 'saint' at?"
"Probably extorting the lord, right?"
"Who believes someone can regrow eaten crops? He's not Jesus!"
"They're all in on it!"
For a split second, the thought of letting these ungrateful idiots fend for themselves spun through Nero's mind. He pressed his temples, taking deep breaths, reminding himself: They're under the aura's influence. So am I, for even thinking this.
Still, the more these voices drilled into his ears, the more his temper flared. Fed up, he leaped onto the church roof, then vaulted to the bell tower, ready to give them one last chance.
"Heaven's decree needs no preamble!"
Nero yanked Red Queen from his chest, slamming the hilt against the bronze bell. The clang echoed like a thunderclap.
But his voice roared louder, shaking the townsfolk pale, forcing every eye to the silver-haired figure atop the tower, his eyes burning like twin flames.
"'Death' is the verdict for sinners—without repentance, no grace!"
Blazing blue swords rained from the sky, embedding along the streets with the church at their center. In an instant, the town fell silent. No one dared make a peep. They dropped to their knees, begging Nero's forgiveness.
Overloading on phantom swords left Nero's head throbbing. He tapped the bell again, growling, "If you don't wanna die, get in the church and pray."
Nobody questioned him this time. Under the guards' watch, the townsfolk filed into the church, heads bowed.
Nero didn't relax, though. He didn't have time to. From the church's peak, he could see it clear as day: the demon horde was cresting the horizon. They'd hit the town in minutes.
The earlier chaos had cost them time—some stragglers still weren't in the church. Nero leaped from the tower, darting across rooftops to meet the demon army head-on.
"Many good deeds might atone for one sin…"
Humming a hymn, Nero summoned another magic sword, planting it at the town's entrance, and murmured, "A comforted God might extend a saving hand, sparing you from death's greedy grasp."
His demonic energy drained fast as the burning sword flared into a ring of fire, encircling the church.
For now, he didn't have to worry about demons slipping past to hit the church.
"Not bad," Hernan said, appearing at Nero's side. She clenched her fist, nervously rubbing her golden ring. "No clue how much my Noble Phantasm can do against demons."
"Bring a storm," Nero said, glancing at the clear sky. "Might slow 'em down."
Instantly, dark clouds gathered overhead. A low thunder rumbled, and rain poured down.
The church stood like a lighthouse in the dark, its fiery barrier flickering in the rain's reflection.
"Here they come."
These weren't rats. Maybe they used to be, but now they were the real deal—bona fide demons. The harvested fields, turning to muck in the rain, didn't slow their charge one bit.
A bolt of lightning cracked down, frying one demon to ash. It was swallowed by its kin in seconds.
Nero and Hernan drew their weapons—pistols, cutlass, and serpent-blade—and charged into the demonic tide.
Most characters are in play now, and the plot's kicking into high gear—just in time for a recommendation slot! Please, everyone, keep following! Without your support—