From somewhere deep in the woods behind me, a projectile hurtled through the trees, its velocity shattering branches and kicking up a wave of dead leaves as it sped toward us. Celestia’s eyes widened in genuine shock, her arm snapping back as she twisted away, the light in her eyes flickering with unexpected alarm.
An instant later, the ground where she had stood exploded in a burst of raw concussive force, splintering the trees and hurling me backward like a rag doll. I slammed into a thick tree trunk, the impact driving the air from my lungs in an agonized gasp.
“Ggk! Hagh…!”
My ears rang, the world spinning wildly as I tumbled to the ground, pain flaring in every nerve. A thick, wet cough escaped my lips as I struggled to pull myself upright, my body shivering with the aftershock of the blast. Blood dripped from my mouth, staining the dirt beneath me.
Wh-What the hell was that?!
As I forced my eyes open, struggling to focus through the haze of pain, I caught sight of the impact site, where a twisted, crumpled mass of bone and sinew, still twitching with unnatural life, lay. My blood ran cold.
No… It can’t be…
The grotesque, shattered object twisted on the forest floor, flesh knitting itself back together with a sickening squelch. An exposed spinal column snaked out from the mass, coiling like a serpent as it sought to reattach itself to the ruined head, the empty eye sockets still alight with a malevolent spark of awareness.
It was unmistakable.
Joanne Sagamix, the Sixth Seat of the Aros Temple Cult…
Her severed head had just crashed into the battlefield, and it was already reforming, bones snapping back into place, sinew and muscle weaving themselves into terrifying new shapes.
The grotesque spinal column snaked downward, burrowing into the blood-soaked earth as muscle and sinew pulsed to life, forming the core of a new body. Bones cracked into place, limbs stretched into existence, and, finally, pale, flawless skin rippled over the raw muscle, sealing the freshly formed flesh.
Within mere seconds, the severed head had grown into a fully formed naked girl, her sharp eyes gleaming with manic delight.
“You there,” she called, her lips curling into a grin as her gaze locked onto me. “Thanks for acting as a marker.”
Marker? My mind scrambled to process her words. Every nerve in my battered body screamed for me to keep my mouth shut, but instinct took over.
“Th-Thank you, ma’am,” I choked out, spitting blood into the dirt.
Don’t piss her off. Don’t even think about it. The wrong word here, a moment of hesitation, and she’d crush me like an insect. I forced my shaking legs to hold me upright, my back pressed against the rough bark of the tree, every shallow breath sending spikes of pain through my ribs.
Joanne’s rebirth had taken only seconds, and now she was fully alert, her body flexing as the last traces of raw muscle smoothed over into perfect, pale skin. She stretched, her vertebrae cracking into place, before turning her attention to Celestia, who had already shifted into a combat stance, her eyes narrowed with cold fury.
“Joanne Sagamix,” Celestia hissed, her tone dripping with contempt. “Filthy lapdog of the heretics.”
“Oh, if it isn’t the uptight Sister Celestia,” Joanne sneered back, her voice sickly sweet in mockery. “Still clinging to that sad little faith of yours? It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
“You seem even more rabid than the last time we crossed paths,” Celestia shot back, the air around her shimmering with the faint outlines of wind magic.
They moved simultaneously, the tension breaking like a snapped bowstring. Joanne lunged, her bare feet digging into the blood-soaked earth as her arm swung in a vicious clawed arc. Celestia responded instantly, severing her own right arm at the shoulder with a compressed blade of wind. The detached limb spun through the air before unleashing a volley of wind bullets from an impossible angle.
Joanne’s torso exploded in a burst of crimson as the barrage struck her from behind. For a moment, it looked as though she had been reduced to a mist of blood and shattered limbs, her body torn to pieces under the relentless assault.
Even as her limbs scattered, twitching fragments of muscle and sinew began to clump back together, knitting themselves into a grotesque parody of human form. Within moments, she stood whole again, her smile never faltering, eyes gleaming with a crazed, predatory glee.
“Not bad, Celestia!” She cackled, rolling her shoulders to crack her vertebrae back into alignment. “But you’ll have to try harder than that!”
I clutched my crossbow, my fingers trembling around the worn, splintered wood. My mind raced, lungs heaving as I forced myself to back away. My gaze flickered desperately between the two inhuman figures locked in their brutal dance.
I need to get out of here, or I’ll end up as nothing more than collateral damage.
My eyes dropped to my meager arsenal—a nearly empty crossbow and a rusting iron sword, both hopelessly inadequate against these monsters.
This isn’t a fight I can win. Not without something that can blow those two to pieces in one hit.
I forced myself to calm down, pushing the panic to the back of my mind. I couldn’t match their strength directly, but maybe there was another way. Celestia was, after all, still on the run from the Aros Temple Cult. She might be more inclined to retreat if she thought her position had become too dangerous.
Two against one. That was the only edge we had, and if I could make it clear I was willing to fight, maybe I could force her to rethink her priorities. She was strong, not invincible. If she got bogged down in a prolonged fight with us, she risked drawing in more reinforcements.
No time to second-guess. I raised my crossbow, loaded a poisoned bolt, and took aim at the silver-haired blur weaving through the trees. I let the arrow fly, its tip glinting with a deadly toxin, and watched as it whistled through the air, cutting between the two combatants.
“Ngh!”
Both Celestia's and Joanne’s eyes snapped toward me, their expressions momentarily frozen in shock. I fired another bolt. It was deflected by a shimmering barrier of compressed air and spun off into the darkness.
Perfect. Just notice me. That’s all I need.
“Joanne-sama! I’ll cover you with explosives!” I shouted, my hand dipping into my belt pouch as if searching for a bomb. Of course, I had no such thing. Even if I did, hitting Celestia while she was darting around like a ghost would be nearly impossible. But I didn’t need to hit her. I just needed her to believe I could.
Celestia’s sharp eyes narrowed, her silver hair fanning out behind her as she twisted mid-air, reevaluating the situation. Clearly, she had calculated that fighting a madwoman like Joanne while dodging potential explosives from an unpredictable cultist wasn’t worth the risk.
“I see,” she muttered, her tone sharp and icy. “How troublesome.”
Then, without warning, a vortex of wind erupted around her, whipping the dead leaves and dirt into a blinding spiral. I raised my arm to shield my eyes, the sharp grit biting into my skin as the wind howled around me.
When the whirlwind settled, Celestia was gone. Only the sound of rustling leaves and the creaking of swaying branches remained, the eerie calm a stark contrast to the carnage she had just unleashed.
“Hah… She ran off. Thought I might actually kill her this time,” Joanne spat, her bare, blood-spattered feet scuffing the ground as she glared at the space where Celestia had stood moments before. She tilted her head back, her chest heaving with the thrill of the fight, green eyes reflecting the scattered moonlight filtering through the trees.
Then, slowly, she turned her attention to me, her expression shifting into something unreadable. She took a step closer, locking eyes with me. I felt a fresh wave of panic creep up my spine.
“Hey, you. For a Marker, you’ve got some guts, dontcha?” She flashed a grin, her eyes full of dangerous curiosity.
“Th-Thank you, ma’am…” I stammered, still struggling to steady my breath.
“Let me see your wounds,” she said, already closing the distance between us. Her bare feet made soft, wet sounds as they slapped against the blood-soaked earth. I hesitated for a moment before pulling aside my shredded cloak, exposing the torn flesh beneath.
“Hah, just a scratch,” she muttered, her fingers brushing over the gash on my side. Before I could protest, a warm, tingling sensation spread through my body. The pain dulled as my shredded flesh knit back together, her healing magic pulsing throughout my body.
Wait… what?
For a second, my mind blanked. She’s… healing me? This was Joanne Sagamix, the same unhinged lunatic who, in the original story, treated her subordinates like disposable meat shields. She had never shown the slightest interest in their well-being.
Is she actually… worried about me?
As she leaned in closer, the tips of her messy, blue wolf-cut hair brushed against my cheek, and I caught a faint scent mixed with something strangely sweet. I could sense amusement behind her eyes, or perhaps intrigue?
She’s completely naked. She’s healing me without a second thought, sure, but she’s completely naked. I felt my face heat up despite the dire situation.
Desperate to regain some semblance of composure, I shrugged off my tattered, blood-streaked cloak and draped it over her shoulders. It was a small gesture, but it at least spared me the awkwardness of having to talk to a nude psycho.
For a brief moment, Joanne froze, her spiral-patterned eyes widening in surprise. She tilted her head, lips curling into a bemused smirk as her forked tongue flicked out, briefly tracing her lips like a serpent tasting the air.
“Heh… You know, you’re pretty thoughtful for a grunt.” She chuckled, her voice low and amused. “What’s your name?”