Toolman drew the katana at his side and cut off the head of one of the soldiers standing behind Blitzdonner. The movement was so quick and unhesitating that it didn’t seem real.
“..................” Blitzdonner was stunned. Toolman had acted like a madman, yet none of the other soldiers were surprised. “No way... All of them? Are all the soldiers in this special combat unit your followers?”
“Yes, indeed.” The Saint praised him happily as if he had guessed the correct brand of black tea.
“What are you trying to accomplish?” Blitzdonner was stupefied as he asked.
These two behaved so irrationally that he couldn’t imagine what they might do next.
“As for the missile launch, there’s no need for any tests. We made it, so let’s launch it and drop it now!♪” The Saint’s laugh was charming and cruel.
“Where... Berun? No! Surely not!”
“August. Isn’t that nice? You’re safe.”
She was going to drop a new weapon of mass destruction developed by Wiltia on the capital of her own nation. It was an attack with the potential to start another Great War.
“You can’t do that!!”
“It can’t be helped! Wiltia and the other nations are reluctant to fight! Even August is increasingly war weary.”
“Of course!”
The ten-year Great War had gone on too long. Every nation was exhausted, with both the victorious and the defeated simply struggling to get through each day.
“I made a mistake. I should have stopped it sooner. At four years, they would have believed they could win next time.”
Over fifty million were dead or missing from the recent war. The Saint was talking about a mistake that resulted in that scale of suffering as if she had messed up a cooking recipe.
“So...” The Saint’s eyes flicked toward Blitzdonner. “What will you do?”
It was a kind of death sentence. He couldn’t win against the Saint no matter how he struggled or resisted. She was a conqueror capable of freezing even the will to fight.
Ugh. Oh no...
Blitzdonner felt like a helpless pig facing a wolf. No... it was even worse than that. He was like meat on the dinner table, completely powerless to prevent being eaten.
Is she truly this dominant?!
He had no desire to strike a blow. The thought even occurred to him that the correct course of action was to admit defeat and surrender his life.
This is the end?
Blitzdonner started to kneel when suddenly a voice yelled out.
“Nooooo!!!” It was Rebecca. Her voice, raised as loudly as she could, lifted her master’s wavering heart. “Major! Run! I’ll buy you time!” Rebecca turned and glared at the Saint with one lost arm.
“It’s no use, Sharlahart! You can’t beat her!”
“I’ll fight her anyway!” Rebecca was so determined to challenge the Saint that she refused Blitzdonner’s command to stand down. “You must live, if only for one minute—one second—longer!” She seized Blitzdonner by his neck and threw him with all her might.
“Uaaagh?!”
“Pardon my insubordination!!”
Without looking back, Rebecca launched herself at the Saint. With no concern for her own protection, she mobilized all her strength for one blow. Rebecca had released all her limitations. She could pierce iron and crush rock.
“You... You’re not like her. In that case, it doesn’t matter.”
The Saint made no attempt to dodge. She knew there was no need to dodge.
“Kneel.” The Saint uttered a single word. The moment the Saint spoke...
“—?!”
The red girl was slammed to the ground. No, she fell to the ground.
This is like that other time...
Rebecca had experienced this before. When she had tried to strike Meitzer, she had lost control of her own body and her legs gave out.
What is this? What in the world is this?!
It was an unknown, unpredictable power. If there was one thing for certain...
She can control my body better than I can!
It was impossible, but there was no other explanation.
“I have no use for you, so stop right where you are.” The Saint spoke without even looking down.
What is she... This is... Oh, I see!
Rebecca finally formulated a guess. Before she could say it...
“Where did that man go?”
“It appears he has fled.”
Blitzdonner was nowhere to be seen. After Rebecca had thrown him aside, he had raced away, as fast and far as he could.
“Oh dear. He did not let his companion’s last wish go to waste. He’s quite a man.”
The Saint was mildly impressed. Not many people would run when told to in such circumstances. Most would hesitate in confusion and freeze, unable to do anything.
“Having tasted humiliation, he chose the path of survival. Indeed, he is an outstanding soldier.” This was a rare instance of her genuinely praising a human being. “Oh well. I’ll let him go. There’s something I must do now. Toolman, lead the way!”
“Yes, Ma’am!”
The Saint’s plan was entering the final stage, so she headed for the control room for launch of Verne 1. Attended by Toolman and the other soldiers, she was as lovely as a princess.
Only Rebecca remained behind. She was a red-haired doll lying on the ground with no strength in her limbs and no light in her eyes.
“Umph... Heave-ho!”
Sven emerged from beneath a pile of heavy rubble. The mysterious light had swallowed her and she was trapped by the collapsing castle.
“There... seems to be no damage to my body, but my clothes are in tatters!”
One year ago, when she had started working at Tockerbrot, she made her own waitress outfit from materials she found in the bakery’s storeroom. She had sworn to wear the outfit until the cloth wore thin while she helped the bakery prosper.
“Too bad... I’ll never be able to repair it!”
Throughout the scrapes and blows over the past year, she had patched the tears and sewed the frayed parts, but the fabric had finally reached its limit.
“Forget about that. What about Master?!”
Lud’s safety was more important right now. She looked around but could see neither Lud nor that odd woman.
“What was that?”
She wondered about the woman’s strange power, but also about the sensation, the feeling she had the moment she faced her. That feeling was difficult to describe. However, she searched for an analogy.
It was like I was seeing another me!
She hadn’t been startled as if seeing herself in a mirror. Instead, she had felt dread as if meeting an identical replica of herself.
“I have to hurry!”
Sven didn’t know the woman’s identity. She definitely wasn’t friendly. If Lud had been taken captive, she must rescue him. Sven steeled her resolve and set off. Rescuing Meitzer was urgent, but Lud took priority.
As she ran, Sven failed to notice something. She automatically knew where to go and proceeded without thinking, even though she didn’t know the identity of that woman—the Saint—or where she had gone.
As for Lud...