"…The Hell Gate collapsed?"
Credo, hands clasped behind his back at the Order's headquarters entrance, caught wind of a disturbance deep in the forest. He looked up, stunned by the impossible truth before him, and let out a skeptical mutter.
"Maybe someone decided to smash it to bits."
A sultry voice slithered from behind him. Credo turned to see Gloria, who'd appeared out of nowhere, standing way too close for comfort.
He knew he'd slipped up. Frowning, he shot another glance toward the forest.
But Gloria wasn't about to let it slide. "Did you just say Hell Gate?"
"None of your business," Credo snapped, his tone a clear warning to drop it.
Gloria, unfazed, sidled closer, resting a hand on his shoulder and leaning in to whisper, "Oh, how's it not my business?"
Credo stepped away, ready to chew her out, but her next words froze him in place.
"I mean, I'm the one who slipped those demonic artifacts into the mix."
"You—"
He barely got a syllable out before clamping his mouth shut, biting back the flood of words threatening to spill. His hawk-like eyes locked onto this troublesome woman, glaring daggers.
Gloria met his wary stare with a sly, knowing smirk.
"Tch." Credo turned away, done with her games.
"Stiff guys like you don't exactly win hearts, you know," Gloria teased. When he didn't bite, she switched to a topic she knew would get under his skin. "So, what happens if your little sister does turn into a demon? What's the plan?"
Without missing a beat, Credo growled, "I'll grant her peace."
"Even though you're a demon yourself?"
"Insolent!" Credo shot her a venomous glare. "We knights of the Order are angels, chosen by the divine!"
Gloria burst out laughing, like she'd just heard the punchline of the century. "You're serious right now?"
"Typical faithless drivel."
Credo scoffed, gazing at the distant horizon. "As long as faith burns in our hearts, we'll never fall to demonkind."
"And your sister? Angel or demon?"
That question hung in the air. Credo stayed silent, hands still clasped, staring into the distance.
"Heh." Gloria caught the flicker of doubt in him and chuckled. "Fine, let your own eyes decide. But if you can't bring yourself to do it when the time comes…"
"There won't be a 'time,'" Credo cut her off, his voice ironclad.
"Right… no 'time' at all."
Gloria didn't push further. The click of her heels on the stone faded as she sauntered off. Time dragged on for Credo, standing rigid as a pine in the plaza's center.
Until footsteps echoed from the bridge across the sea.
Credo's eyes narrowed, locking onto the sound's source. Moments later, a shock of brilliant blonde hair appeared from behind the circular plaza.
"Credo!"
The second Nero spotted him, he saw her too. Her greeting was bright, but she slowed her pace, sensing the heavy vibe radiating off her adoptive brother. Step by cautious step, she approached the plaza.
As Nero drew closer, Credo's expression darkened.
When she finally stepped onto the plaza and stopped at its edge, Credo, silent until now, spoke with a face like thunder.
"What's with that outfit?"
"…Uh."
Nero was at a loss. The long dress Trish had given her was, by Fortuna's standards, borderline scandalous. Even by modern standards, it was bold enough to turn heads on a night out. She totally got why Credo was pissed.
After a few seconds of awkward eye contact, Nero could only shrug. "My old clothes got trashed. This… this is from Gloria."
At the mention of Gloria's name, Credo's jaw clenched so hard you could hear his teeth grind. "That woman…"
It was almost comical—Credo looked like a dad fuming over some punk stealing his daughter's heart.
Sensing the mood wasn't too hostile, Nero took a couple more steps forward. But the second her foot hit the ground, Credo barked, "Don't move."
His brow furrowed, lips tight, eyes flicking to the vertical eye on Nero's chest with a complicated look. Then he met her gaze. "How'd you make it through the forest alone?"
Nero's hand twitched toward the eye on her chest but stopped when she saw Credo's instinctive grip on his sword. After another beat of silence, she flashed a cocky grin. "Kicked the asses of every demon in my way, obviously."
"Where'd that power come from?" Credo pressed, voice low. "Did you… pass the Ascension Ceremony?"
How to answer this?
If she claimed she'd passed the ceremony, maybe it'd ease Credo's suspicions. But Nero couldn't transform into some angelic form—if he tested her, she'd be exposed in a heartbeat.
Plus, admitting that would mean endorsing the Order's dogma. No way. She had to make Credo see the Order's true colors.
So Nero took a deep breath, locked eyes with him, and said, "What's the difference?"
Credo's brows knitted tighter, his grip on his sword hilt whitening his knuckles.
Nero didn't back down, each word deliberate. "Credo, do you really think passing the Ascension Ceremony makes someone an—"
"ENOUGH!"
Credo roared, his steam-powered sword blazing as it swung toward Nero.
With a deafening clash of metal, Nero, now equipped with Gilgamesh, crossed her arms and blocked the strike.
"Credo!"
Staring into the anguished eyes of her adoptive sister, who called his name with desperate concern, Credo gritted his teeth and forced out a brutal declaration.
"You're not my sister." His voice was cold as steel. "You're a demon."
"So don't call my name!"
In the next instant, they broke apart. With a slight push, the impact from Nero's steel armor sent Credo staggering back several steps. He steadied himself, letting out a low, bitter chuckle.
"Credo, you—" Nero called out, worry creeping into her voice for his state of mind.
But Credo cut her off. "No more tricks, demon."
He stood tall, golden light erupting around him. "I am an angel."
In the radiant glow, a white knight appeared before Nero—wielding a golden longsword, wings spread wide, two horns forming a halo above his head, and a long tail trailing behind.