VI

VI

 

"Fast!" urged Havel. No sooner did he speak than Paula's body disappeared, leaving only a trace. Although he thought she was completely gone, Paula's distressing shadow appeared next to Alfonso like a daydream.

"Y-your Holiness, look out — "The voice of the large official blocking the inquisitor was cut off unnaturally.

The Lady of Death, who had pulled the ring needle out from the back of his head, stood there coldly. With her steps and her breathing unhurried, she moved in before Alfonso's eyes. He thought her white hand had turned when the tip of a dark weapon extended between her target's eyebrows.

"Eek!" Alfonso's face tensed until he saw the ring needle break with a high-pitched shriek.

"Your Holiness, withdraw — I'll deal with this," Havel said. Raising the palm that had shattered the evil weapon, Havel pushed his master behind him, catching a glimpse of the woman drawing a new item from her back. It was a moon blade — a dark weapon used in close hand-to-hand fighting that combined crescent-moon-shaped blades crosswise. She held one of the two blades, each about the length of a long sword, in both hands.

Havel challenged first. He walked forward as if sliding, by moving only the lower half of his body and thrusting out his arms at the same time. As he thrust them, he twisted his wrists, transforming his palms into hand blades, and then aimed a deathblow capable of piercing an iron plate toward the pit of his opponent's stomach.

Before Know Faith had advanced, the Lady of Death arrived. By the time her voluptuous body had coquettishly begun moving toward him, Havel's blade had sliced through the air, missing her by a few microns. Paula’s moon blade caught the crook of Havel's fully extended right arm, shattering it in one blow.

"Ugh!" moaned Havel. It was the first scream that had slipped from the priest's lips all day. As if some kind of power had been applied to it, his right arm rotated in an unnatural direction.

"Divine punishment," said Paula with no emotion whatsoever. She jumped back, and as soon as her slender arms flexed, the moon blades gave one ill-omened flash toward Havel's neck. The Lady of Death moved only her long, slitted eyes. At the end of her intense gaze, a ribbon of white extended from the gun the silver-haired priest was holding.

"Will you hinder the inquisition, agent?" asked Paula without a hint of anger in her voice. She almost sounded as if she were pleased to have found some new work. "If so, I'll have to remove you, too."

"Run, Abel!" Havel shouted, still cradling his right arm. "You can't kill people, but if we don't kill her, she's unstoppable!"

"Ugh," groaned Abel.

The warning was too late. The inquisitor's shadow was already closing in before Abel's eyes. The instant the gun reflected its owner's hesitation, the moon blades in her slender hands aimed for the priest's neck.

"Point eight seconds late," Tres said.

Had the bullet released from the side and not bounced off the glistening sword, Abel's neck would have been battered. Tres stood up and continued firing toward the nun who'd lost her weapon.

"Are you all right, Your Holiness?" asked a voice.

All of a sudden, the roar of multiple shouting voices could be heard alongside the echo of countless pairs of military shoes stamping. When they turned around, they saw a group wearing military uniforms charging from the hall entrance. It was soldiers who finally had noticed something wrong and came to handle the situation. The soldiers pointed their guns at the men and the woman armed with weapons next to the Pope who'd collapsed on the floor.

"A-arrest these people!" Alfonso ordered, still sitting on the floor. "They're Vatican assassins!"

Paula glanced at the group of guns and softly clicked her tongue, realizing along with the two agents that it would be hard work to dispose of this quantity. Pretending to gracefully wave her slender arm, she threw a small disc on the floor.

Screams arose among the oncoming soldiers as the disc rolled on the floor and exploded with a loud boom. Once the smoke laden with tear gas permeated the crowd, the soldiers began coughing furiously.

"Father Nightroad, I suggest you take this opportunity to escape," said Tres, who'd noticed that the shadow of the Lady of Death had already disappeared into the smoke. "The operation has failed. We'll retreat, too."

The smoke was thinning rapidly, but if they were able to make their way to the underground aqueducts during the confusion, they'd be able to escape to the castle's exterior. However, the silver-haired priest's actions exceeded Tres' expectations.

Still speechless, Abel placed his gun on the floor and raised both hands in the universal symbol of surrender as Havel, the other wounded priest, stood before him. "Please go, Father Tres," Abel said, staring at Know Faith's thin face. "I'll surrender—but you—please escape."

For an instant, a faint trace of emotion crossed the mechanical soldier's face, one that could be read as both irritation and approval. But a moment later, Gunslinger assumed his usual masklike expression and turned on his heel. "Operation failure. One person lost — withdrawing."