"Hiss…"
Ritsuka sucked in a breath, feeling the weight of the situation. Seeing her reaction, Da Vinci sighed. "Honestly, I didn't want to tell you guys about this. It's too late to stop it now, and it's only gonna mess with your heads."
"No way. You don't know until you try," Ritsuka shot back. She glanced at Kriemhild, ready to give an order, but Nero cut her off.
"Ritsuka, you handle things here," Nero said. "I'll take care of the town."
Even as impulsive as she could be, Nero knew how to prioritize. Calming down a mob and saving people? One person could handle that. So, she'd go. Ritsuka needed to focus on the big picture.
Without wasting another word, Nero recalled her blade, Echidna, and equipped her Impact Steel gear. With a single leap, she soared dozens of meters.
Full speed toward Ratwench Town.
Kriemhild watched Nero's figure vanish into the distance, giving a slight nod before turning to Perseus, who'd finally been unbound.
"Get up," she said, her voice like ice. "Swing at me—at your fate—with everything you've got.
"Or stick out your neck and lie down nice and easy. Makes it harder for me to swing."
Whatever went down behind her, Nero was clueless. But she trusted Ritsuka to smooth things over between those two Heroic Spirits and bring them back. That was Ritsuka's specialty as a Master, after all.
"Mash, what's the situation in town?" Nero asked, vaulting across the plains with the spring-loaded power of her Impact Steel gear.
Mash's voice crackled through, faint and staticky. "They've… set up… gallows at the town… gate. They're about to… start… the execution!"
Looked like relaying messages to a high-speed target was pushing Chaldea's tech to its limit. Nero had hoped to get a visual feed, but that was clearly a pipe dream.
In that moment, Nero cursed Da Vinci. Why'd she have to be such a genius? Why did her calculations have to be so damn accurate?
Why did she say it was too late, and now it was actually happening?
But Nero knew she was just lashing out. The real problem was her—she was too slow, too weak, too useless. If she could've run faster, purged the demonic energy poisoning the town, or picked up on the lord's shady vibes sooner…
If she hadn't naively thought the demon-tainted townsfolk would chill out once they left, maybe things would've turned out differently.
But those were just useless what-ifs. Without knowing how things would play out, she could repeat this a hundred times and get the same result. Humans have limits, and that's the root of every tragic fate.
"Unless…"
Nero skidded to a halt. She stopped running.
"Miss Nero?" Mash's voice finally caught up, her image flickering beside Nero. She looked confused, wondering why Nero had suddenly given up.
But Nero hadn't given up. She'd just realized something.
If the townsfolk were already starting the execution, that meant the whole song and dance—parading the "sinners," reading their charges, passing judgment—was already done. They were one step away from the end. No matter how fast Nero ran, she couldn't outrace time itself.
"Mash, get me a visual of the scene."
She needed something else… a trick she'd never used before, one she'd never even considered.
Nero's voice was calm—eerily so—and that calm steadied Mash's panic. "R-right away!" she replied.
The projection shifted from Mash's image to an overhead view of the singularity. The western region was swallowed by an unobservable, inky darkness. Then the view zoomed in, diving into the only cluster of buildings in the singularity.
"Wait, hold on, this is…" Mash trailed off.
Instead of focusing on Ratwench Town as Nero asked, Mash panned to the wheat fields west of town. "There's a new Heroic Spirit signature! It's… it's—!"
A lone figure staggered across the blackened earth, projected into view. She had only one arm, her white armor carved with dark scars overflowing with the demonic arrogance of the Demon King. Her brown hair was matted with blood, her closed left eye leaked crimson, but her violet right eye still burned with unshakable resolve.
It was the sword-wielding Heroic Spirit, Georges, missing for two days.
She likely had no clue Ritsuka's group had already left town or how bad things had gotten. She just kept trudging forward, her body broken but unbroken.
The moment Nero recognized Georges, a spark of relief hit her. But seeing the swordswoman's battered state, she scrapped any idea of asking for help.
Get this done quick, then regroup with Georges and the others. If Sphinx was right, Georges had already clashed with Pavone. Whatever intel she had could be a game-changer.
"Show me the execution site, now!" Nero snapped.
"Yes!"
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The view shifted, and there they were—a row of gallows. Eight women, branded as witches, already had nooses around their necks, teetering on the edge of death.
Nero took a deep breath, pressing a hand to her chest.
"Here we go, Enma Blade!"
In the projection, Beatrice stood beneath the gallows, head bowed, silent.
"Hang the witches! Hang the witches!"
The crowd's frenzied chants rose and fell. The town had suffered years of bad harvests, and this year, disaster after disaster had struck. The cause? Demons, obviously. And why were demons here? Because witches summoned them.
So, hang the "witches," and the town would have its bright future.
That's what everyone there believed.
The lord overseeing the ceremony stood beside the priest, his cold gaze sweeping over the witches—over his own daughter, who only brought trouble.
With a heartless wave of his hand, he signaled the execution.
The "witches" were kicked off the platform, the ropes around their necks snapping taut. The moment they fully tightened, the momentum of their fall would snap their spines. If it didn't, they'd face an even worse fate—suffocating slowly.
Beatrice felt the fleeting weightlessness, bracing for death.
Then, a flash of steel.
The nooses around her neck and the others' snapped in an instant. A slender figure burst through the slashed ropes, catching Beatrice with steady arms.