Watching Asia get put down by those two, Draconis didn't even try to hide his disgust.
He stepped forward, shielding Asia with a cold stare aimed straight at the girls.
"You two sure act high and mighty. After everything your side's lost, you'd think you'd have learned some humility."
Xenovia didn't flinch. "That's ancient history. Now is now. No point dragging up the past."
Irina—her partner—waved a hand dismissively. "She's already a devil, Xenovia. Why bother talking to her?"
But Xenovia shook her head. "Not all traitors are the same. Some still feel guilt, still cling to their faith. I can sense it in her."
Irina blinked, caught off guard. "Wait… is that true? Even as a devil, you still believe in the Lord?"
Asia's eyes shimmered with tears. "I… I just can't let go. I've always believed…"
Xenovia's grip tightened around the cross-shaped weapon on her back. Her voice was grave. "Then die by my sword. At least that way, I can judge you in God's name. Even if your sins are heavy, the Lord's mercy might still reach you."
Asia froze, horror etched across her face.
Draconis's magic flared to life—a pulse of purple-black energy rippled out, forcing Xenovia and Irina to leap back instinctively.
He stood between Asia and the would-be executioners, voice flat as iron. "Are you idiots, or just brainwashed fanatics?"
Xenovia eyed him, unfazed. "Thinking of fighting us? The Church wouldn't approve, but if you attack first, we can't help it."
Draconis's lips curled. "You called Asia a witch, didn't you?" His Regalia Blade materialized in his hand, the street around them emptying as his power bent reality—civilians drifted away, oblivious.
Xenovia nodded, blunt as ever. "She's earned the name. That's just how it is now."
"Because she can heal devils and angels both?" Draconis's eyes flashed with contempt. "If that kind of kindness is heresy, you angels are fools—driving out a true saint."
Xenovia's tone was ice. "Saints exist for God alone. Saving devils is treason. Saints are meant to be merciful and loving, but they don't need friendship or love from others. God's love is enough."
"So Asia Argento was never fit to be a saint from the start."
She said it like it was a simple fact, not even realizing how warped it sounded.
Draconis nearly laughed. What utter bullshit.
Any sane person could see how twisted that logic was—Asia being treated like a tool, discarded the moment she didn't fit their mold.
He stared them down, voice heavy with scorn. "You Church types talk about God loving mankind, but when people suffer, He's nowhere to be found. You treat Asia like a thing, not a person. It's pathetic."
He genuinely pitied them—just two zealots, lost in dogma, unable to think for themselves.
Xenovia replied calmly, almost robotic. "God loves people. If there are no miracles, it's either weak faith or hypocrisy."
Draconis just stared. "…"
She was so deep in doctrine it was almost impressive.
He shook his head, raising his sword. "Your saints are tragic. Before I change my mind, get lost. Insult Asia again, and I'll skin you alive."
Xenovia didn't even blink. "Challenging the Church, are you? Pretty bold for a low-class devil."
Irina tilted her head, uncertain. "The Church doesn't let us attack people for no reason… If they find out, we'll get chewed out…"
Xenovia shrugged. "Someone issued a challenge—we have to answer. As long as nobody dies, we're fine. Besides, I want to see what this devil can do…"
She eyed Draconis, sizing him up. His magic wasn't normal, and even she looked impressed.
Irina exhaled, suddenly eager. "Yeah, as long as the Church doesn't know, it's fine! Hehe, let me teach you a little lesson. The Lord will praise my good intentions—amen~"
Draconis rolled his eyes. The self-righteousness was exhausting.
"…Guess I was wrong, Asia. They're just idiots."
Asia hesitated. "Maybe… we should just let it go?"
Even after all the insults, she didn't want a fight—not with so many people around, even if his magic kept them away.
Draconis squeezed her hand. "You deserve better. Let's show them you're not someone to be bullied."
He was done wasting time. If these two wanted a lesson, he'd oblige.
Across from them, Xenovia and Irina tossed aside their cloaks.
With a dramatic flourish, they revealed black, skin-tight combat suits—modest, but still showing off their figures. Draconis couldn't help but notice: unexpectedly impressive.
He studied their stances, sensing real danger. These girls weren't pushovers. Their auras were powerful—and oddly familiar.
Xenovia ripped the white cloth from her massive sword; Irina unclipped something from her arm, which morphed into a long blade.
Recognition flickered in Draconis's eyes. That energy… he knew it.
"…Holy Swords?"
—
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