The ground around the Silent Turbine cracked as the Black Cardinal, infused with Lucifera's malice, landed. The air was instantly choked with raw demonic energy, but the spiritual null zone the Saint had created held, forcing Marius to fight physically rather than magically.
Marius was no longer just a cult leader; he was an avatar of Hell. His eyes burned with red fanaticism, and his body crackled with power—a conduit for the Fallen Queen.
"You are out of time, Azael!" Marius roared, his voice thick with the transferred authority of Lucifera. "Your Truth is a lie! Your Judgment is corrupted! Surrender the Fragment, and submit to the Ascension!"
The Saint stood utterly still, the combined power of Sanctus and Veritas radiating from his unified blade a perfect balance of necessary sin and absolute purity. He had accepted the paradox. He was fighting for the damnation that saved him.
"You seek to corrupt creation, Marius," the Saint responded, his voice calm, ringing with the authority he had not possessed in centuries. "And I am here to execute the only truth that remains. Lyra is my truth."
The Cardinal lunged, not with a weapon, but with sheer, brute force, his hands erupting in black, crackling fire, the corrupted energy of Lucifera.
The Saint met the charge, the unified blade a blur, focusing the energy into the white light of Veritas and striking Marius's arms with surgical precision. The purity of Truth seared the demonic energy, forcing the Cardinal to recoil with a guttural scream of pain.
But Marius learned quickly. He shifted his attack, circumventing the Saint's defence, and lunged directly for Lyra, who stood rooted in the shadowed periphery of the null zone.
"The memory is mine!" Marius shrieked, his focus absolute.
The Saint reacted with blinding speed. He didn't move to dodge; he moved to protect. He shifted the blade's focus instantly to the raw, crimson power of Sanctus—Judgment. He unleashed a close-range Judgment Wave that didn't strike Marius but created a wall of purifying force between the Cardinal and Lyra.
The wave slammed into Marius, throwing him back, but the exertion sent a fresh wave of agony through the Saint's newly sealed core. He gritted his teeth, feeling the intense strain on the fragile mend.
He's trying to exploit the moral choice. Marius is forcing him to spend his energy on unjust defence, hoping to make him falter or fall into the sin of an unnecessary kill.
Marius rose, his fanaticism escalating. He understood the Saint was weakened by the protective act. He drew upon the immense power Lucifera had granted him, channelling it into a massive, concentrated blast—Lucifera's Wrath.
A swirling vortex of black, raw energy erupted from the Cardinal's chest, aimed directly at Lyra. It was corrupted creation power, designed to violently extract the Fragment's memory and shatter the Saint's core simultaneously.
"You cannot save her from this, Fallen!" Marius screamed in triumph. "Witness your damnation!"
The magnitude of the blast was absolute. It would vaporise Lyra and permanently destroy the Saint's core.
The Saint knew he had one, final chance. He could not dodge, and he could not deflect with purity alone. He had to execute the final, necessary paradox.
He took a deep, shuddering breath, his silver eyes blazing with absolute focus. He unleashed his ultimate, most dangerous manoeuvre—the Paradox Strike.
He reversed the unified blade, channelling the full, unbridled power of Sanctus—the sin of the Executioner—to meet the incoming blast of Lucifera's Wrath. The crimson light of Judgment slammed into the black, demonic energy. Instead of repelling it, the Saint used the power of Sin to absorb the corrupted creation, channelling the raw, devastating force into the blade's massive core.
The Saint convulsed, his body becoming a conduit for both divine and demonic power—the pressure on his core unfathomable. But he held.
Then, he focused the energy instantly, shifting the balance of the blade to the white, surgical precision of Veritas—Truth. He thrust the now white hot blade forward, aiming not for the Cardinal's soul, but for the mortal vessel's nervous system.
The absorbed energy of Lucifera's Wrath—the corrupted creation—was channelled through the pure Truth of Veritas, and driven non lethally into Marius's heart.
The Cardinal did not explode. He simply collapsed, his face frozen in a look of stunned, agonising realisation. The demonic power that sustained his physical form was neutralised by the ultimate paradox: corrupted power used for a righteous defence. The Executioner had found a way to execute judgment without committing murder.
The black, swirling essence of Lucifera's General shrieked, tearing itself violently from the shattered mortal vessel.
"He found the flaw!" the demonic essence wailed, the voice echoing with Lucifera's profound fury. "He kept the memory! He found the truth in the sin!"
The essence vanished into the upper atmosphere, retreating to report the failure.
The Paradox Strike was complete. The Saint stood trembling, the unified blade smoking, the core straining under the immense, conflicting energies it had just contained. But it held. It was sealed, and the moral integrity of the Executioner was preserved.
He had won. And he had done so justly.
He collapsed to his knees, his massive strength finally abandoning him.
Lyra was there instantly, her entire being focused. She didn't speak. She simply threw her body over his, her hand locking onto his chest, channelling the Fragment's power.
The white hot flame erupted, not just for stability, but for a deep, profound healing. The core, having successfully navigated the paradoxical strike, accepted the full power of her touch, strengthening the seal beyond its initial fragility.
The Saint clung to her, the fear, the exhaustion, and the profound relief washing over him. He was the Executioner, and she was the reason he could still stand.
"It is over," Lyra whispered, her voice shaking but victorious. "He fled. You won, Azael. You saved the memory."
Before the victory could fully settle, the air above the Silent Turbine filled with a sudden, deafening sound. Not the chaotic terror of a demon, but the cold, organised precision of Heaven.
"Target located. Fallen Angel Azael detected. All units: Judgment and Capture protocol initiated."
Seraphiel's forces had arrived. They had tracked the massive energy signature of the Paradox Strike and were now closing in for the final, total annihilation.
The Saint pushed Lyra back gently, his body recovered, his core strengthened, his eyes blazing with renewed purpose.
"The Black Cardinal is defeated," the Saint declared, rising to his full height, the unified blade ready. "The immediate threat is gone. Now, we fight the rest of the war. Seraphiel has just brought his entire army to our doorstep."
He looked at Lyra, then at the approaching lights of the enemy. "We run, Lyra. We use the stolen data, and we take this war to the final battleground."
He grabbed her hand, and together, they vanished into the surrounding industrial decay, leaving the Silent Turbine as the final monument to the Executioner's justified defiance.