Reims — The Stronghold.
Zoth extended a hand, intending a friendly handshake with the girl standing before him. Jeanne froze for a moment, her eyes widening in confusion. On one hand, she was bewildered; on the other, she couldn't understand why she didn't feel afraid.
Even though her hand trembled slightly, she quickly responded, her voice soft as she introduced herself:
"I… I am Jeanne d'Arc. I'm seventeen years old… born in the village of Domrémy…"
After finishing, Jeanne handed her banner to Gilles, then gave a light bow and reached out to shake Zoth's hand.
Zoth nodded, withdrawing his hand. His eyes curved into a crescent-like smile — yet whatever emotion lay within that arc was impossible to read.
"Well now~ So you're La Pucelle, huh? A pleasure, truly."
He gave her a pat on the shoulder — not too firm, not too gentle — then shrugged and added:
"I'm Zoth Vari-El. As I said before… I'm a messenger of justice."
Zoth flicked his fingers as if dusting something off, then casually rested Kuraiyami over his shoulder. The setting sun cast a golden light over his violet armor, making him appear like a war god stepping out of ancient myth — beautiful, yet terrifying.
Turning to glance back at the city gates, he pointed casually:
"Eh~, if you all plan to head into the city… could you do me a favor and calm the townsfolk a little? I'm tired and would like to be on my way. If fate allows, we'll meet again. Ciao~!"
With a wave, Zoth turned away. In the blink of an eye, he dissolved into a swirling plume of black smoke — like a wisp of cigarette haze — and vanished into the blood-red twilight.
"Wait—!"
Jeanne called out instinctively, wanting to ask about what had happened inside the city… but before her words could reach him, Zoth had already disappeared without a trace. The wind carried with it only the burnt scent of gunpowder.
Jeanne stood frozen for a few seconds, then — without hesitation — sprinted toward the city gates.
"Jeanne! Wait! Everyone, follow her!"
Gilles tried to stop her, but she didn't slow down. He could only wave his arm to signal the rest, and the entire group of knights rushed in after her.
And then… they saw Jeanne standing frozen in the middle of the main road — as still as a statue.
Gilles stepped forward, curiosity in his eyes… until his pupils shrank in shock, and his jaw dropped, unable to form words.
In front of him… was a scene that surpassed even the most terrifying nightmares.
A city — drenched in blood.
The streets, the walls, the stone pavement… everything was soaked. Pieces of flesh and torn limbs were pinned to the walls with swords, arranged in patterns that resembled a ritual of demonic sacrifice.
What once was a "town"… had been twisted into a living hell.
Several knights immediately tore off their helmets and vomited on the spot, their faces pale as corpses. Some trembled uncontrollably, others fell to their knees, murmuring holy prayers in a desperate attempt to calm their minds.
Jeanne… she stood there, shaking. Her eyes wide open in disbelief.
"That knight earlier… was really…" she murmured, her voice wavering — caught between fear and doubt.
The man who had just shaken her hand, who had spoken so casually like a friend… was he truly a demon in human skin?
She set her banner down, knelt on the ground… and began reciting holy scripture to offer prayers for the dead. Her voice echoed through the blood-scented air, a lone chime of salvation for the forsaken souls left behind.
"Gilles… please help me calm the people…"
Jeanne spoke with hollow eyes, her voice like a shadow — no light reflected in her gaze.
Right now, she wanted nothing more than to ease the terror rooted in the hearts of the townsfolk.
And after that… she would search for him again.
That knight clad in violet armor, with the smile no one could understand.
Because she had to know — what he was… and why he did this.
---
A suburb of Reims – early evening.
Zoth strolled leisurely through a deserted residential area.
He was searching for… a magus.
Not to fight.
But to ask a few questions.
Ever since his transformation, Zoth had begun to feel like something inside him was slowly slipping away. Specifically… his consciousness. Or emotions. Maybe both.
And [Omni Force] — the source of his power — seemed to be eroding his mind bit by bit.
Zoth let out a sigh and looked up at the night sky. He felt like he was drifting between the boundary of man and monster.
[Omni Force] had become uncontrollable, so now… he was forced to rely on Kuraiyami. But it wasn't much better — just slightly less toxic.
"I need to get to the Clock Tower. Maybe those witches know what the hell's happening to me."
He shrugged and kept walking casually.
Then… he stopped.
His eyes narrowed, lips curling into a grin.
He summoned Caladbolg, rested it on his shoulder, and looked toward a nearby forest.
"Come on out~ Looks like you Brits are getting scared of me, huh? That was fast."
With that, Zoth slashed.
A wave of pitch-black energy shot toward the trees, splitting entire trunks in half and sending dust and leaves flying.
Instantly, a barrage of magic gems were hurled from the forest — detonating violently where Zoth had stood.
But… he was gone.
Zoth reappeared directly behind a teenage boy, hand on chin, shaking his head.
"Magic jewels, huh? Damn~ Fancy tools for someone so young."
Standing before him was a boy around 15–16, with long black hair and wearing a brown noble-style suit. His eyes were wide with terror — he couldn't understand how Zoth had appeared behind him so suddenly.
The teen jumped back and threw two more gems. But… Zoth vanished again.
In a blink, he stood right in front of the boy, wielding a trident, smiling in the most "emotionally damaging" way, then—
SNAPPED HIS FINGERS RIGHT ON THE BOY'S FOREHEAD.
"Aiii–!!!"
The teen teared up, clutching his forehead with a wince. His expression so furious, it looked like he wanted to snap Zoth's neck into five pieces.
"Who the hell are you, brat?" Zoth twirled his trident once, then dematerialized it.
"You! You demonic bastard! You're the one who revealed the Mystics to the public!" the boy roared, pointing straight at Zoth with a vein popping from his neck.
Zoth blinked, pointing at himself with a face like "Who, me?"
"Eh? I didn't reveal anything though?"
"Don't lie! You used dark magic and stopped time! The entire city saw it! If that's not a breach, what is?!"
"Uhh… that's the ability of the holy sword though…" Zoth shrugged like a man falsely accused.
He raised a brow at the teen.
"Wait, who even are you?"
"Me? Kayn Meluastea – Magus from the Clock Tower! I was dispatched to investigate the Mystic breach… Hey! Where are you going?!"
Zoth had already turned away, lazily picking at his ear as he walked faster.
"Nah... spare me. Dealing with the Clock Tower is such a pain…"
"Stop right there!! You think you can just cause chaos and walk away?!"
Kayn hurled more gems to the ground — instantly summoning magical spikes that rose around Zoth.
Zoth sighed, eyes half-lidded:
"Hey… can you like... let me go~? Otherwise, don't blame me~"
Kayn immediately tossed another set of gems — forming a Mystic Code barrier, then shouted:
"Come, O steed of mine! I'll show you what real magecraft looks like!"
A storm of gem-based explosions ripped through where Zoth had stood — shaking the ground with their force.
But then…
A golden sword flashed.
Caladbolg appeared.
Zoth used it to parry the incoming magic, redirecting the surge of power away — as if channeling the blast into thin air.
He walked out of the smoke, resting his sword on his shoulder:
"Honestly… your magecraft kinda reminds me of the Tohsaka style… Feels familiar."
"Tohsaka? Who's that? Never heard of them." Kayn blinked.
"Oh~ Must be someone who joins the Clock Tower later… 1600s? 1800s maybe." Zoth muttered to himself.
"Eh? What are you even talking about?" Kayn frowned.
"Nothing~ Just joking~" Zoth chuckled, but suddenly, his eyes sparkled.
"You must be carrying a lot of gemstones, huh~?" he rubbed his hands, eyeing Kayn like he was a walking treasure chest.
"W–What are you planning to do?!" Kayn's face turned pale as he instinctively stepped back.
"Oh~ Nothing much. Just… asking for a little pocket change!!"
Zoth lunged at Kayn like a black whirlwind — his hands quick, his grin wicked, his vibe that of a seasoned thief.
"YAMEROOOOOO!!!"
Kayn struggled in despair.
But it was hopeless.
All he could do was cry, helplessly watching as his Mystic Codes, gemstones, and magical gear were utterly looted by Zoth — with not a single chance to fight back…