Inside Gematria's conference room.
"...She said we were all wrong?"
Maestro sounded rather displeased.
The Black Suit who had been addressed let out a light chuckle and replied casually, "Differences in perception naturally lead to different conclusions. From this point onward, we are no longer walking the same path, so there's no need to concern ourselves with it."
"True enough."
After thinking for a moment, Maestro continued, "Even so, I don't believe Beatrice has fallen so far that she'd make such claims without any basis. Could it be that there truly is some kind of art that can only be understood by someone as close to the stage as she is?"
The reason he said "close to the stage" instead of "standing upon the stage" was because Gematria unanimously believed that Beatrice had never truly stepped onto that stage herself, with the sole exception of Beatrice.
Precisely because she had been expelled after touching the taboo, leaving only like-minded voices behind, the atmosphere within Gematria had become noticeably more harmonious.
Hearing the implication in Maestro's words, Golconde spoke up to dissuade him.
"I wouldn't recommend that. If we rush over now, we'll only miss the most exciting part."
After a brief pause, he continued,
"Besides, Beatrice has completely embraced madness while bearing the power of [Chroma]. The scenery she sees may not be something we can understand at this point."
"But of course!"
Decalcomanie, as always, immediately chimed in.
Although Maestro agreed with this reasoning deep down, he still couldn't quite let it go.
So he turned toward the calmest member of Gematria, the Black Suit, who had quietly become the organization's leader.
"And what is your opinion, Black Suit?"
"My view remains unchanged."
Black Suit answered simply,
"How Beatrice perceives things isn't particularly important to us. Why become fixated on someone else's unique interpretation of a phenomenon?"
"...You're right. Pursuing that line of thought would simply lead us onto the same heretical path as hers."
With an unpleasant creaking sound, Maestro nodded his two wooden heads.
At that moment, Black Suit changed the subject.
"Still, purely as a point of reference, perhaps it does hold some value. Hehe... Just what different answer did Beatrice discover? Let us wait and see."
Thus, the three members of Gematria continued watching attentively.
...
The phenomenon recorded in ancient scripture was deeply engraved into Beatrice's countless eyes.
It was something that ordinary human eyes could never perceive.
Even the other members of Gematria might not be capable of seeing it.
Only someone like her, someone born with the ability to glimpse the cracks between dreams and reality and fortunate enough to receive the blessing of [Chroma], could let her gaze pass through those countless veils and witness that truth.
"You're nothing but a fake!"
Beatrice accused him bitterly.
She believed she had every reason to be furious.
She had been deceived, rendering the carefully prepared trump card she had hidden completely useless.
The only response to her accusation was a sentence she found unbearably arrogant.
"What are you even talking about?"
That lofty attitude stabbed deeply into Beatrice once more.
Ignoring the increasingly savage assault from Arius Squad, she no longer bothered maintaining the appearance of an evenly matched battle.
Turning every one of her eyes toward the handsome young man, abandoning even the manners she usually prided herself on, she roared,
"Just die already!"
At the next moment, countless crimson-black rays that had long been building erupted almost simultaneously.
The blazing heat twisted the surrounding air.
Beatrice was confident that with the power she now possessed, even Saint Barbara's replica, the decisive weapon she had prepared for this final battle, would be gravely wounded by this attack.
Yet even now, the Saint Barbara she had summoned still had not returned.
Just like the result of this attack she had poured everything into, hope turned into a heavy weight sinking in her heart.
When the light finally faded and the smoke dispersed, what she saw was the young man who had taken her full-powered attack wearing an utterly calm expression, almost completely unharmed.
The few faint bloodstains left upon the skin exposed by his torn clothing disappeared completely in the span of a single breath.
But what frightened Beatrice far more...
...was what stood behind him.
Through her spiritual vision, a crimson seven-headed beast sat coiled in the center of a silver pool, leisurely stretching its pure white wings as though silently mocking her.
Of its seven heads, five appeared already dead, their eyes tightly shut and devoid of life.
One remained alive, yet its eye sockets were completely empty.
The last flickered in and out of existence, as though it had never truly been born.
Above one of the dead heads floated a marble halo, identical to the one above the young man's head except for its size, remaining perfectly still.
The "pool" upon which the beast rested was formed by over a dozen hanging mercury stakes, their glowing tips converging into one place.
This vision had already appeared while he slept.
Having once read a similar account in an ancient scripture, Beatrice finally understood one thing.
He was absolutely not the Holy Child.
After he awoke and placed the cross together with the spear, several of the mercury stakes behind him intertwined, as though resonating with one another, shining with an even brighter radiance.
Beatrice also realized what those "stakes" truly represented.
"You committed spiritual adultery with the gods, making them willingly hand over their authorities and powers to you."
Recalling everything she had seen, she continued,
"You drank yourself drunk on the blood of the saints and sat upon the many waters, over peoples, multitudes, nations, and tongues... Ah... You liar. You were never the Holy Child. On the contrary, you are the enemy of the Holy Child... No, you are the greatest enemy of the Absolute One. You are..."
Finally, filled with overwhelming fury and a terror she absolutely refused to acknowledge, Beatrice shouted,
"Babylon the Great of Blasphemy!"
"...What kind of nonsense is that?"
I dug at my ear with my little finger, convinced Beatrice had completely lost her mind and was simply babbling incoherently.
"You've already admitted you guessed wrong once. What makes you so certain you won't be wrong a second time?"
I sneered and said inscrutably,
"Everything you've seen is only what I've chosen to show you. Do you really think what you've seen is the whole truth? After all..."
I looked at her proudly.
"What do you actually know about me?"
Beatrice fell silent for a moment before unleashing an earth-shaking roar.
"You... you bastard!"
I frowned.
"You're far too noisy. It's about time this farce came to an end."
After having Arona lower the defensive barrier slightly to deliberately verify my regeneration, all uncertainty had disappeared from my mind.
The next instant, I raised the Sword of Light before me.
A power I had sealed away for a long time because of its severe side effects was activated once more.
[Return to the Wild]
The Authority obtained from conquering Tsurugi's heart. It consumed lifespan in exchange for an enormous increase in agility.
As my life ebbed away, I dashed forward.
A fierce wind swept past both sides of the Sword of Light as the vast distance between Beatrice and me vanished in an instant.
Imitating Hoshino's brutally aggressive fighting style when she no longer had to worry about protecting her juniors, I swung the Sword of Light, which felt incredibly light in my hands.
The massive gun barrel slammed heavily into Beatrice's torso.
The tremendous impact forced out a piercing scream, while the eyeballs hanging from her body shook violently like fruit dangling from branches.
Only afterward did the agony of torn muscles arrive, mixed with numbing tingles and itching that proved even harder to endure than simple pain.
At least...
I had successfully used it instead of collapsing under its burden.
Now, I had reached Beatrice.
The monster was within arm's reach.
As I drew the Godslaying Spear, my fingers brushed across the serpent-shaped engraving on its shaft.
A faint sting pricked my fingertips before vanishing.
I raised my head.
My eyes met one of hers, filled with terror.
"Wai..."
I gave Beatrice no chance to utter any more disgusting words.
Swiftly raising the muzzle to take aim, I pulled the trigger and softly said,
"Checkmate."
Bang!!!
The bullet, which had seemingly absorbed my blood and life automatically, shot from the barrel.
A deafening crack rang through the air.
The crimson-black spherical mass it pierced burst apart like an apple struck head-on.
It was super effective.
Based on my experience, awakened Authorities usually inherited the characteristics they originally possessed.
Combined with its cryptic description and origin, which seemed to carry the meaning of severing sin itself, I had enough confidence to take the gamble.
The result was exactly what I had hoped for.
At the same time, however, the ruptured sphere sprayed foul-smelling black fluid everywhere.
If not for the Shittim Chest's deflection, it would have splashed onto me.
Disgusted, I stepped back a few paces and raised the Sword of Light before me like a shield, preparing to fire again.
But it was as though some chain reaction had begun.
Accompanied by shrill, continuous screams, the feather connected to the destroyed eyeball became stained crimson.
The crimson Chroma spread like fire, climbing from the feather onto the arm before rapidly branching out in every direction.
Then, as though truly burned, it withered into charred blackness.
"It burns! It burns!"
Beatrice screamed.
"W-What is this!? Poison!? Aaaaaah!"
"...Perhaps only death is capable of washing away the sins of someone like you."
I paused before correcting myself with a shake of my head.
"No. Even after death, you'll fall to the deepest layer of Hell, never to find release."
"Y... you... Aaaaaah!"
Perhaps enraged, Beatrice tried to say something more, but unbearable pain interrupted her once again.
Meanwhile, the girls of Arius continued pouring firepower onto Beatrice as they gathered around me.
"Sensei!"
Saori asked anxiously,
"Are you alright?"
"Of course."
I smiled at her.
"I've never felt better."
The newly acquired Divine Name of the Marble King possessed an uncomplicated kind of overwhelming strength, especially when compared to the flashy-looking White Crown King.
Come to think of it, the White Crown King also possessed a smelting Authority capable of creating miraculous artifacts.
Unfortunately, after the White Wolf was destroyed, I had yet to obtain the ritual needed to replace its vessel, leaving even its awakened Authority unusable.
I wondered whether things would change once I created the corresponding [Golden Ship].
"But... your hair..."
Saori hesitated.
Azusa and Hiyori looked at me with concern as well, while Misaki remained as unreadable as ever.
"Don't worry about trivial details."
Counting what had already happened before, it was only fifteen or sixteen years.
I could bear that much.
"More importantly, hurry and get Atsuko down first."
After brushing off the girls' concerns, I gathered my wandering thoughts.
After a brief moment of consideration, I fired several more shots into the writhing Beatrice.
Even if it was excessive, I wanted to make absolutely certain that Beatrice disappeared from this world for good.
The gunshots were answered only by the desperate roars and counterattacks of a cornered beast.
But with the Sword of Light serving as my shield, the Shittim Chest protecting me, and wounds that healed almost instantly, I had nothing to fear.
The outcome had already been decided.
Her furious roars became screams, then groans, then weak whimpers.
Finally came the thunderous crash of a massive body hitting the ground.
Moments later.
Aside from what remained of her head, the excess eyeballs, the leaf-like feathers, the branch-like giant claws, the skeletal wings, and nearly the entirety of her body had completely withered away.
After Atsuko was rescued, the ritual had likely been interrupted, which was probably connected to her current condition.
Like a rotten log collapsing onto the ground, Beatrice struggled to lift her head.
With the few remaining eyes she still possessed, she stared at me and asked with great difficulty,
"What... exactly... do I lack compared to you...?"
"Character. Looks. Luck... Other than your boundless ambition, which is your one remotely redeeming quality, Beatrice, you have absolutely nothing."
I aimed the gun at her, looking down at her ridiculous appearance.
"So, are those your final words?"
Yet Beatrice seemed to summon strength from nowhere.
"...It's not over! Do you think I'll die so easily? You've only won one round! Don't celebrate too soon!"
Persistent to the very end.
I was just about to finish her off.
Suddenly, Beatrice let out a piercing scream, followed by frantic pleading.
"W-Why!? My power... No, [Chroma]! Don't take back your power! I can still win... I can win! Please have mercy! Don't demand the price yet! Give me one more chance! I still haven't... Nooooooo!"
I watched in stunned silence as Beatrice's body began collapsing inward from a single point.
So this...
...was the price of praying to the [Chroma].
Coming back to my senses, I hurriedly fired another shot.
But I had no idea whether the final bullet had taken effect before it disappeared together with Beatrice herself.
Her despairing scream echoed throughout the Sanctum for a long, long time.
Only then did it finally fade away.