Chương 96: CHAPTER 94 – Vase of Iron and Ceramic
Stillore: Shard and Canvas · Ludwika · 123 chương · ~58 phút đọc · Tạo 18/08/2026
In the static world, Lance's tears flowed, and the shifting shadows on Tux's face writhed. His frame had somehow lengthened, now surpassing Lance by a few centimetres. Tux looked around, sighing in that supernatural air.
"So he managed to find us even here? I thought I had more time…" He turned back to the boy from beyond his dark veil. Lance had dried his tears, still trying to escape his perimeter.
"It's useless. You can't flee from here in your condition." Tux grabbed his wrist, guiding him away from the imaginary line. Lance stared at him, confused, trying to break free.
"This space is the work of a Meta, and this time, a terribly powerful one." Lance stared at him, stunned, yet his heart knew that silence was the only path.
"What do you mean? Are you not here to help me? This isn't your doing?" Tux slowly shook his head, shifting wisps of darkness from his face. Lance turned pale, still staring at the scene before him.
"Lance, I can do nothing for you." His words escaped his lips like a hiss, but they reached Lance's mind like a stab. Lance's shoulders went slack; he shook his head.
"Can't you do like Eve, take my body and do something?" His eyes slowly lost colour, as if drained by the grim smile he tried to keep on his white face. He knelt, clutching the hem of Tux's black trousers.
"I've endured so much. So many people have died… I couldn't do anything. If Abbondius had died in that desert, then…" He spoke in a broken, weak, trembling voice.
"Why can't you? Why can't you use me now? Come on… She's dying… Please." Tux stared at him, bowing his head. A tangle of darkness formed and vanished on the film that hid his face. Desperate, the boy wouldn't look at him, mumbling.
"Eve, you, and this bracelet are my salvation… Use me, make me useful. Even if I should perish, I will have done something useful, won't I?" His grip tightened, along with his weeping.
"We would be your salvation? That relic your hope? Then you are destined to fall." Tux's words were another stab.
"I don't care. I have to help them…" Tux was still, motionless in his role as spectator. The boy clinging to him sobbed, barely able to chew out a curse or a sentence.
"COME ON! MAKE ME USEFUL FOR SOMETHING, DAMN IT!" Mucus, tears, and blood spilled onto the spectral fabric. Lance pressed his forehead to Tux's boot, pounding his free hand on the floor without sound. Tux watched him in silence, arms hanging at his sides.
"Get up…" Lance shifted his gaze upward, receiving only a violent slap. The back of Tux's hand crashed against his face in funereal silence. He felt no pain, felt nothing in truth, save for a horrible cold deep in his chest. Before he could raise his head, Tux seized the bandages at his throat and lifted him.
"This wasn't your stop, Lance! You said so yourself, or am I wrong?! If this is the road you've chosen, stop feeling sorry for yourself and face reality." His stern voice was thin and mature, as if all his vocal cords were vibrating with different emotions in perfect harmony.
"You should be here telling me about your experiences, but instead you're a damned shell on the verge of collapse!" Tux's grip weakened, and Lance fell to the ground, confused and too weak to rise.
"How many times have you abused that weapon? Can't you see it trembles for you? It craves you because it knows you will feed it again." A sensation even colder pierced his vertebrae, reaching the bracelet.
"You should devour each other, but you are already sick with yourself. Now use everything inside it and make it yours!" Lance struggled to understand as the shadows on Tux danced.
"You can no longer change where you are going, but you can change yourself." Tux stared straight into his eyes through the darkness.
"Lance… You are profoundly selfish. You are an egotistical mass of altruism, and you cannot see beyond the veil of heroism with which you mask your emotions. A donkey with blinders." Lance tried to stand, only to be stopped, forced to meet Tux's face again.
"For your sister, you are consuming yourself. Do you want to present yourself before her as a mass of sewn-together flesh?" Tux cracked his fingers, bending his index finger with his thumb.
"I know what is in your heart… Hatred and regret, enough to destroy an entire kingdom, and yet you turn it into a simple smile and keep helping others. Lance… You only want to burn yourself out as soon as possible in the name of your gentle nature." The boy lowered his gaze, staring at his hands. A swarm of painful wounds filled his memory, each crueller than the last.
"What you do for your family is noble, but have you ever thought about the memory of her last words?" Jude's screams flooded his mind, forming once more the tears the slap had wiped away.
"You only want to kill monsters and save others, but do you truly believe that by fulfilling this desire you can make everyone happy? Do you really think everyone will be happy after knowing the lovely Lance Klint… DO YOU THINK FORGETTING IS EASY? YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HARD IT IS TO ERASE A SMILE FROM THE MIND!" Instead of shouting, his voice echoed in that rectangle. Lance tried to cover his ears, but Tux stopped him, immediately pointing to Jeanne, motionless with the scythe tight in her hand.
"Would you say that she will have to smile when she sees what remains of you? Swallow some consolation like 'He gave everything for you and to save us' when you abandoned her to satisfy your crusade? Because yes, Lance… You will die at this rate. You have no limits. Your hope has no limits, and that is precisely why you suffer and will make others suffer." Tux stared directly into the boy's face, holding his own face centimetres away."' Don't worry, I'll be fine'. How many more times do you think you'll say that?
With what courage do you repeat it after forcing everyone to tend to your dying body for months?" His flesh seemed to become liquid.
"Please… I know you are kind, but understand that sometimes helping others means first valuing ourselves. You cannot save everyone, but you have no idea how many people you could help if you stopped seeking solutions without counting yourself." Lance's face was streaked with tears as Tux's hands cradled his cheeks.
"No one will come to save us. We might as well cultivate our hope until it becomes our salvation. Inebriate yourself with the will to survive and take the people you love with you, even if you fail." Lance rose in silence, gripping Lachesi with his hand.
"Do you expect me to renounce my illusions? The lie that has accompanied me in this reality? I suffer every day. I know how many innocents die in this world. I use everything at my disposal without regard. I know how pitiful I am." Lance clicked his tongue as his blood tinged with black drops.
"I cannot stop hiding my pain…" Tux lowered his head, feeling a hand rest on his shoulder.
"But I promise I won't make others part of it. It wouldn't make me less disgusting than I am; I'd probably end up worse." Lance managed to form a smile through the pain.
"Tux… I was disappointing you, and I shouldn't, after all the help you've given me." The relic began to bind to him while a faint crackling spread through the air. The shadow stepped back, watching him with arms crossed.
"No one will help me more than I can help myself, and I will try to end my martyrdom. I will accept this world. I am a killer. That is my nature, and I can no longer hide it. Yet nothing will stop me from giving my all for the people I love." Lachesi's corruption stained his shoulder, spreading its black tendrils.
"Lance, conflicts don't end with words. Only by extinguishing life will we extinguish wars. The only option left to you is to choose where to channel your strength. So said a rather detestable man. I feel dirty agreeing with him." Lance nodded, a new colour in his eyes, without asking questions. He noticed Tux's fingers thinning. He glanced at the ever-expanding form of Lachesi.
"That relic will only bring you harm, but it is still full of the hope of those who wielded it. Consider that inheritance a new oath for the future, Lance. Death is only physical…"
"But…" Tux's form slowly began to grow diaphanous, like a spectre.
"I don't think I can abandon people or smile like an idiot. Maybe I'm wasting my emotions, but that's fine. After all, this is my absurd reality…" Tux let his arms fall to his sides, laughing weakly.
"An immature choice that will only bring you pain…" His legs became thin, black, nebulous threads. He was beginning to vanish, but his voice echoed strong and radiant.
"Perhaps if this time it's you… Taking this road… Maybe it will be different." Now his chest became part of the dark skin, continuing to disappear. Lachesi had finally fused with Lance, extending along his face.
"I would have liked to talk more, but perhaps this lesson will suffice… A killer and a hero… It suits you." Now his face vanished, becoming dark mist along with the rest of the globular mass.
"Good luck… Lance Klint, my friend." His last words were nothing but a thought in Lance's head.
"Thank you, Tux. I don't know when we'll meet again, but thank you." Lance turned toward Abbondius, grinning with the cross aimed upward at the sky. By now, Lachesi was fused to his entire arm, emitting jets of violet light and dark discharges. A strange dark halo spread from the armour's scales, extending over his hand.
"My ideals are stupid, immature, and perhaps unattainable…" He took the first step, this time escaping that cage. Behind him, time shattered, leaving a dark, polished stain.
"... But I will go on with my choices, with my hope." His eyes lit yellow as he continued his advance toward the priest. He brought his clawed hand to his face, wiping away the last of his tears. The smoke gathered definitively on his arm, emitting a strange luminosity.
"These words are not mine, but I feel as though they belong to me." A dark mass emerged from his arm, taking the shape of a thick, massive hilt." Novum Iusiūrandum." Abbondius smiled as he brought the blade down with enough force to raise a freezing gust. The impact, however, made his arm vibrate so much that he wondered if he had just tried to cleave the ground beneath him.
"Lance…" Jeanne stared at him, cloaked in the black scales of that baleful armour. On his trapezius rested the father's cross, barely carved into the flesh. A single rivulet, red and black, slid down his back.
"It's still me. Don't worry. Sorry I lied to you again." Lance turned, smiling with yellow-lit eyes. Clutched in his hand, a colossal mountain of black iron, planted in the ground. It was a sword nearly as long as Abbondius himself, its broken tip forming almost the head of a harpoon. White, curved, irregular teeth lined the guard. A violet halo appeared on the edge, reflecting his eyes. Abbondius tried to tear the cross free, somehow lodged in his flesh.
"Jeanne, I'm sorry I didn't help you earlier, but now I've understood something…" He gripped the cross with both hands, not deigning to look at his rival.
"I thought that by sacrificing myself, if I could spill as much blood as possible from my body, then someone… someone would treat me with pity. But in the end, it was nothing but a disgusting attitude."
"The world will not pity me, and I don't want to be weak. I don't want to feel sorry for myself and renounce my nature. I will spill all my blood and apologise to the people I've made suffer!" Abbondius's body flew away, a gigantic gash across his chest. Lance's blade drove into the ground, exuding strange vapours.
"I exist despite the absurd reality surrounding me, Abbondius!" Lance spoke those words with a smile, while the father stared at him with bloodshot eyes. Jeanne, behind him, began to laugh, wiping her tears. Lance turned sharply, looking at her, confused.
"It's really you!" Jeanne smiled, struggling to her feet, staining the column with blood. Lance tried to murmur something, but the blue of her eyes was enough to confirm she was all right. Jeanne's face was pale and stained red, but still happy.
"Here…" From the armour emerged a violet syringe, small and partially cracked. It slid into his fingers, and he handed it to her. Without a word, he turned, raising the weapon toward the grim sky.
"Jeanne, what he said doesn't interest me. If you ever want to talk about it, I'll be more than happy to hear it from your lips." The greatsword fell to the ground again, opening a gash in the floor. Abbondius pulled the black chains from his flesh, smiling.
"That is the weapon of the beast kept in the mirror… Curious that it hasn't disintegrated." Lance stared at the hilt in his hands, feeling the unnatural weight of that mass of matter, too large and dense to be called a sword." Lachesi … holds within herself the Frequency of something. Relics are an agglomeration of it, so they remain with me as long as the death of the owner is caused by me." A violent swing of the sword took off his arm, along with much of the stairs and floor.
The weapon emitted violet vapours again as Lance smiled.
"The name of this weapon is Imago Residui, 'The Mirror of Remnants.' It is a construct of pure, volatile energy. What wounded you now and before is nothing but the mass of Frequency released by this tool." The chains formed a new arm, along with a new silver cross.
"You've lost that look… Now you're nothing but a tamed monster." The same black mantle he had used to kidnap Elise appeared on his shoulders, emerging directly from a thin thread at his neck. From the dark mantle emerged numerous black, sharp chains, swaying in the air like serpents.
"Come. I will give the last rites to a filthy wretch like you." Lance gripped the blade with both hands, emitting a violent jet of black and white electricity.
"And I will make you pay for all the venom your tongue has vomited." Lance vanished from sight, clashing against the wall of flying chains. The ground at their feet filled with cuts, released by the sparks of Lance's weapon. He freed one hand, hurling a violent dart of energy at the man's face. His eyes were burned enough to allow Lance to slam the teeth of the sword into his chest. Abbondius was hurled away, his abdomen torn by numerous cuts.
"Come and purify me, chains!" His innards launched themselves at Lance like macabre lances of dark metal. The thickness of the weapon was used as a shield, parrying the blows with numerous sparks. He lifted his foot, accumulating Frequency at a tiny point on his sole. Abbondius raised the chains high, gathering them into a gigantic sphere. Stolen novel; please report." EINBRAND!" The ground exploded, deforming into a wave before fracturing and creating a crater in the middle of that space.
A cloud of acrid, dense smoke blinded Abbondius, forcing him to swing that blow blindly. The ball of chains struck exactly where the boy's silhouette was, echoing through the forest of columns. Before him, not a trace of Lance.
"Come out, worm!" The moment he said those words, he found himself impaled by a blade rising from the ground. Lance emerged from the earth, lifting Abbondius's body off the ground as he rose from the blood-stained marble. His flesh sizzled at the contact with the harpooned head, while the boy gripped the hilt firmly to hold him still.
"Not nice to be impaled, is it?" A burst of energy erupted from the blade, splitting the priest in two and separating the wall behind them all the way to the opening toward the sky. The entire wall was opened, revealing an identical section without the altar where Elise was crucified. Lance panted, losing his grip on the weapon.
"I can only fuel this power because I'm in Hel, but Lachesi would have already forced me to use the injection under normal conditions… The next blow of the Imago will be the decisive one!" He glanced at his bracelet while lifting the weapon again.
"Thank you, Tux. With this, I have a chance to carry on my ideals!" Abbondius's body began to spasm, writhing as it was wrapped in chains. A laugh rose from his bloodied flesh. He stood, half of his body built from a metallic tangle. Buds of tissue began to bloom on the iron whips, fully rebuilding his figure.
"Can't you just stay dead? It would make things considerably more tolerable…" Lance murmured, raising the sword with force. The other half of Abbondius's body spasmed, coiling back on itself. The boy's senses exploded, feeling a baleful aura spread through the cathedral.
"Unfortunately, I have a duty to continue. Your end is a necessary piece." A second Abbondius built of metal rose from the ground, identical to the first except for the metallic skin and pearly white eyes. A tremor seized his arms, making him lift the weapon. He found himself in the air, a force spreading from his abdomen to his shoulders, facing the metal copy.
"You are nothing but a brat playing at war. You cannot understand what it's like to survive while your ears are besieged by screams and your nostrils filled with the metallic smell of blood." From the mantle exploded a harpoon of chains, impaling his ankle. With a single yank, Abbondius hurled him against the wall behind, fracturing it.
"You are inept, unfit for battle, driven only by rage without conviction. You are just cannon fodder for your desires." Abbondius turned toward him, only to find himself missing an eye. Lance, hanging from the wall, bled black fluid from his hand and mouth. That same liquid floated around him, swirling until it split into ultra-thin electrified discs." Karmesin …" He rose from his niche in the wall, the blade still tight in his fingers and a smile stamped on his face.
From Abbondius's throat came a growl, and immediately the copy launched a volley of chains at the boy.
"Leave me alone, you fraud!" With a violent gesture of his hand, the weapons were deflected, and all the small red globules exploded in that direction, creating a reddish mist laced with electric discharges. Abbondius raised the crosses, noticing Lance's absence from the wall. A shadow spread from above him, and an instant later, the flat of Lance's enormous sword slammed him to the ground.
"To hell with you and your war! Why boast about a tragedy?" The priest rose sharply, parrying the second impact with the cross. He broke the ground as he halted the force pushing him away, smiling.
"Can't you see? Humans are born without a Goddess, equipped only with her memory. Corruption spreads, and servants like us claim the right to impose their wills on their own kind. To me, that seems like the hell you want to send me to." Lance clicked his tongue, pushing back with his foot, avoiding the violent lash from above.
"Justifications. That's what those are, Abbondius. This place cannot be hell, simply because of how much beauty it holds!" Lance tightened his free hand around the chains, slamming the copy straight into the ground. The priest and Lance threw themselves at each other. The crosses and Lachesi collided, raising a swarm of multicoloured discharges.
"The conviction of a brat! These crosses are a relic of the war, and you cannot imagine how many lives they have taken!" Lance pushed forward, towering over him as he pressed with the black scales covering his arm.
"And yours? They are only the words of a monster! This arm carries a history of ruin, but you cannot imagine how many people I will be able to save using it!" With violence, the electric discharges exploded, hurling both of them away. Lance caught the blade in mid-air, turning to reap a violent slash at the copy. The chains sizzled, trying to wrap around the boy." Vergehen: Siphon!" The Frequency radiating from the metal began to flow into his veins, burrowing into his skin down to his core.
A jet of rage, madness, and pity invaded his brain. His strength increased vertiginously and channelled into the great sword, sweeping the copy away. The twisted heap of chains tumbled across the ground, smoking. Lance stared at his hand, pervaded by a strange petroleum-like substance.
"I still can't absorb it like Eve, but this is enough and more for a single blow." Lance turned his whole body, colliding knuckle against knuckle with Abbondius. They smiled, exchanging numerous slashes impossible to follow. The ground filled with cracks and gashes, while howls and booms spread through the environment.
"Lance…" Jeanne murmured, letting the empty syringe fall to the ground. Their weapons flew into the sky, embedding far away, one in a column, the others in the ground. Abbondius and Lance stared at each other, the former towering over the boy cloaked in black and scars. The giant's chin and the boy's stomach were struck in turn. Both returned to their guard, continuing to trade blows to the viscera.
With a shout, the priest knelt and crushed Lance to the ground, but the boy spun sharply and grabbed him by the neck, shattering his skull into the marble warmed by blood and slime. The two screamed at the top of their lungs: tiger and bear, beast against monster. They rose, squeezing each other, Lance's fingers tight enough to pierce his forearms.
"FILTHY DEMON!" From Abbondius's wounds emerged dozens of sharp chains. Metal pierced the boy's flesh, binding to his bones and eroding them. Lance tightened his grip further, burning the ground beneath his feet with the energy pouring from his body. The priest's arms turned to ash, along with the metal embedded in his organs." AUFPRALL RICHTIGKEIT!" The environment became devoid of energy; Hel died in that tiny space separating them, drained.
Abbondius was pierced through, and his body slid across the ground, swept away by the shockwave. Some columns behind him vanished, toppled by the mass of wind generated in that cone of impact. Lance raised his arm, twisted by the scales, spurting blood. Abbondius rose sharply, his eyes red from still-fractured capillaries. They exchanged a glance, and the moment the last column hit the ground, they bolted toward their weapons. The chains amassed behind Lance erupted, launching themselves at him.
"It ends here, King of Heresies!" Without stopping his charge, chains exploded from the priest's palms, grabbing the crosses. Lance slid across the ground, seizing the sword from the column with a rivulet of blood. He found himself surrounded, trapped in a cage of spiked chains. Abbondius's crosses and his clone's chains grazed his neck and abdomen, slicing them. Among the spurts of blood, his smile formed." Einbrand!!" The ground beneath them exploded, sending them into the air.
Both the copy and Abbondius were bound by a noose of dark blood. A burning violet light spread before them. The ends of their ropes were tied directly to the boy's neck and abdomen, where the blood vines originated. With a smile, he raised the luminous sword, tilting it behind his back.
"That earlier exchange has certainly weakened you…" The priest broke the ropes, separating from the copy, but Lance had already set his whole body in motion. All the siphoned energy channelled into the space between the two points, creating another of colossal dimensions and translucent appearance. With a shout powerful enough to split his own throat, Lance drove his blow home. The blade of energy passed through the wall, extending around him.
The columns fell, severed; the eternal darkness lit for a single instant by a violet flash. Outside the cathedral, even Hel flared with that regal colour.
"Tux, this power you have given me… This is the use I intend for it." Lachesi extended further, this time reaching his abdomen. The fused chains began to vanish as Abbondius clutched his side, struggling to regenerate it. The relic reabsorbed his weapon, leaving his hands empty. Both fell to the ground, gasping.
"You're not at your peak. If you were in the condition from when I met you in the desert, I'd already be dead." Abbondius's flesh regained colour, reigniting with vitality. Lance cracked his shoulders and fingers, taking deep breaths.
"I've always been helped. I'd say for once I'll repay the favour!" Lance appeared before him, violently driving his knuckles into the man's face. Abbondius didn't flinch, pressing all his weight into the ground. He returned the blow, lifting the boy off the ground with a violent uppercut aimed at the stomach. Lance grabbed his arm, hurling Abbondius behind him.
"You're not the first to play the hero! All of them now rot beneath the empire's feet." The priest landed, cracking the ground and launching himself at Lance again. The crosses reappeared on his arms, ready to sever his target's head.
"Adam Steiner, that vile dog, was an example. You wear the same pair as his!" Lance let the slash slide along his black arm, raising sparks and electric discharges. In his palm formed a dark, vibrating dart. Abbondius was pushed back again, his abdomen burned and lacerated. Lance brushed his glasses, recalling the strange name on the frame.
"Adam exterminated the entire army deployed on the coast, wounded the Saint, and threatened His Holiness!! All to save a stupid bitch, just like you!" The surrounding air ignited, shaken by their emotions.
"You've lived since the war, but you're not a Meta … Your Frequency is completely normal, so tell me what horrors you subjected yourself to!" Abbondius stared him straight in the face, tearing off two of his own fingers. The blood that slid from his fingers began to writhe the moment it touched the ground, lighting up first gold, then twisting into spiked globules. Chains rebuilt his fingers, but the red pool on the ground only kept lighting up and turning to vapour.
"This is Avidocromo. It isn't blood but a condensate of dreams, fears, joys, ambitions, regrets, condensed into liquid form. I can use my relics only because the sacred ether in my veins allows it. The girl is even more extraordinary. Her body seems to produce it autonomously, without causing gold intoxication. We would have spared ourselves all those screams of fathers and mothers…" A smile formed on that man's grim face, while in Lance's mind those words painted a demonic picture.
His tongue hesitated before he finally decided to move.
"What do you mean by screams…" Abbondius laughed, advancing slowly." Avidocromo is an ancient relic of the Lost Epoch. Created from the blood of profane gods and given to the First Saint of the Balance in the night against the Great Devil. But that is a falsehood the empire tells because not everyone would be capable of understanding the truth behind the great power of Termìe." He stared directly into Lance's eyes, tilting his head.
"In that age, a great war broke out among many kingdoms, and Termìe, at a disadvantage, prayed for a saviour, and that saviour came. So beautiful was the arrival of that white-winged angel that thousands of people sacrificed themselves to welcome it. So much blood was spilled that its wings turned red. The name of that saviour is now lost, but some forbidden texts record it as Justicar, the Ruby Ruin." Lance felt a shiver run through the fibres of his throat, as if his body were warning him not to listen."
Avidocromo is nothing but the soul of people, squeezed and processed! The greater the emotion, the purer the product. The problem is that the body must be alive! Otherwise, it cannot be extracted. Therefore, we often use a body that houses two lives… if you understand what I mean." A violent crack rang out through the infernal cathedral. Lance took a step forward, liquefying the ground.
"You and this empire you made an oath with…" Lance's face lit gold. Elise and his nightmares, Winoc and his brands, Deborah's story, and Jeanne's tears condensed in his heart like a plague.
"... MUST BE WIPED FROM THE FACE OF EARTH!!!" The boy vanished, leaving behind discharges and drops of incandescent stone. A violent energy pierced Abbondius, launching him toward the ceiling. Smiling, he saw that golden liquid tinge the air, catching the contorted face of that young boy. A second impact struck him, sending him crashing against the icy surface that separated the cathedral from Hel. The third blow shattered the barrier, revealing them to the diabolical, frozen dimension.
Around them, only grey rock, black filaments, and a faint smell of ammonia.
"You are wasted on this world." With golden eyes fixed on him, Lance raised his hand. Frequency and violet blood gathered in his palm, forming a dense, dark sphere." Karmesin Salve!" An eruption of pure energy snaked above the cathedral, immersed in the rocks, illuminating Hel. The flow of energy enveloped Abbondius, sending him back inside and searing every corner of his body. Like a dragon, it wrapped the columns and slithered across the floor, leaving only liquefied fragments of marble in its wake.
It seemed to open, snapping at the smiling priest, then detonating violently in a burst of black and white lightning, leaving behind a violet mist. Jeanne drove her weapon into the ground to brace against the violent shockwave. Lance fell to the ground, wrapped in smoke and energy. Abbondius rose, his body completely carbonised with various cracks across his skin. Lance stared at him with contempt, walking toward him despite his wounds.
"What do you think you'll achieve by helping that girl? Your sins are enough to fill eternity. Only I can see the darkness lurking in your viscera." Lance's arm fully reassembled, extending the scales of black metal.
"It's only by chance that she is like this!" He stood as his regeneration distorted his entire body, binding chains to exposed bones and strange reddish masses pouring from the mantle.
"They told me you would be a plague, especially that black-haired ma. He knew I would hate you!" He lunged at Lance, tying chains to his forearms to tear away his flesh. He grabbed his shoulders, ripping his skin. Impassively, Lance stared at him, violently bashing him with his elbow.
"IT'S THE CHOICE OF FATE THAT SHE IS LIKE THIS! A FILTHY BITCH BEATEN BY HEAVEN!!" A violent roar spread between them, and Abbondius and Lance were thrown apart. The priest stared at the gigantic hole in his abdomen as desperate chains tried to reassemble it. Lance stared at him, eyes lit by golden and violet light, bringing the revolver's barrel close to his face.
"Then I'll send you all to be beaten in her place!" Abbondius stared at him, stunned, for the first time grinding his teeth and raising his arm again. Like a beast, he threw himself at Lance. Shattering the ground, he rose into the air, his fist like a maul.
"FILTHY F -" A white slime stopped his assault, hurling him backward in a spin until he crashed into the ground. Lance smiled, watching the girl armed with a scythe near the bloodied stairs. She was panting, recalling the viscous liquid to herself.
"I won't leave you alone!" With that tired face, Jeanne still managed to smile and raise a thumb despite her wounds. Lance shook his head, rushing to her.
"Have you already used the dose?" Jeanne nodded, showing the strange violet stain on her pale neck.
"For some reason, since you arrived, it seems bearable." Lance sighed, resting his hands on her shoulders.
"Don't overdo it." Lance murmured, staring at the ground. Jeanne laughed, doing the same with her free hand.
"Says you…" Lance raised his head, confused. Jeanne turned, watching Abbondius's body rise.
"I knew it. My faith was not enough." Abbondius's body was butchered, with metal spikes protruding from cracked skin and white, broken bones tearing the tissues on his chest, carved with strange bright red marks. He pierced his own chest with his hand, emptying his body of all its viscera. When he pulled his hand out, he was holding a black splinter.
"The same as the Demiurge?!" Lance immediately fired a second shot from Supplicium, strangely deflected. Abbondius turned, smiling as he aimed the pike directly at his mediastinum.
"I am nothing but ceramic thrown into iron." He impaled his own chest, causing a river of golden blood and black slime to pour out. His body began to be wrapped in black chains, swelling and rebuilding dozens of times per second. Organs, bones, and muscles shifted position faster than the eye could register. A scream rose from that twisted mass of tissue and fluid, now pierced by a black, opaque spike.
"But even the shards of a pot… Can tear a throat." A demon, an incarnate horror, appeared. He was Abbondius only in the head; the rest was difficult to define as human. The mantle had fused to his skin, giving the appearance of webbed claws to his entire body. His skin was like coal, crossed by golden and violet veins, and he had twice the number of arms, each armed with crosses and chains. A Lambdite crystal had pierced one of his eyes, tearing through his skull as well.
With his new bulk, he stomped the ground with clawed feet, smiling.
"We have little time…" Lance murmured, immediately followed by a nod from Jeanne. The girl tore off her sleeves, revealing toned arms stained with purple. The battle in the underworld continued, while the crucified saint began to quiet in the cold.

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