The Greatsword of Ruin swung relentlessly. The deluge of plant-like monsters and falling white apples was shredded with every flash of the blade.
'Focus, focus!' Simon's eyes were fixed on a single point.
He could see Figaro's shocked face at the top of the tree.
[You monster!] Figaro's arms moved, and massive tree trunks whipped through the air like lashes. [This is impossible! This is a grave blasphemy!]
Simon dodged with nimble footwork. "The one blaspheming divinity is—" He recalled everything he had seen on his way here: the ruined village, the villagers drained of their life force, and Sasha, buried with only her face exposed. "—clearly you!"
A colossal slash tore through the air, sweeping away the plant monsters and tree whips alike.
'The remaining distance... I'll give it everything I have!'
Simon opened a divine Subspace from his badge, and Akallion leaped out, ready for battle. Simon vaulted onto its back and infused its body with divinity.
"Let's go, Akallion!"
Akallion broke into a full-speed gallop. Simon locked his legs around its torso, entrusting his evasion and momentum to the beast as he prepared a new white magic spell, like a knight on horseback.
More white apples rained down. A smirk touched Simon's lips as he unfolded a white magic circle. 'Thank you, Professor Parahan!'
'Parahan Remake – Spear of Glory'
A multitude of divine spears shot into the sky, colliding with the descending apples and forcing them to explode prematurely. Akallion, having learned from the first explosion, cleverly weaved through the blasts, its movements fluid and intelligent.
[Ugh!] Figaro crossed his arms, and once again, tree trunks flew at them.
Simon thrust both hands forward.
'Divine Barrier'
A large, translucent shield of protection materialized, safely deflecting the flying trunks and allowing Akallion to break through the gap.
[What in the world are you?!] Figaro's eyes turned bloodshot. Simon's proficiency was that of a seasoned Priest.
'Eighty percent!' Simon's eyes widened. He was almost there. He could see Figaro with his naked eye.
[Damn it!]
Figaro, on the other hand, was filled with terror at the sight of Simon's charge. 'Why are the Paladins I requested from the Federation so late?!' According to the Federation's system, they were obligated to descend and protect the Saintess, no matter the circumstances. This was the core of his grand plan: they could not take issue with a man becoming a Saintess, because it was the choice of the goddess. The power of the goddess must not be doubted; it must be accepted. He wanted them to feel that contradiction.
'But...!'
To overcome the limits of religion, he had chosen science and research. But...
'But what in the world is that?!' A monster that could not be explained by theology or religion. Something that mocked all truth had appeared right before his eyes. 'I can't give up like this!'
Fortunately, the closer the enemy got to his main body, the stronger and more varied his own abilities became. Figaro prepared a white magic spell.
'White Flame Amplification Formation'
White magic circles composed of holy flame bloomed across the tree's trunk, and from them, massive trunks erupted, all dyed white with divinity.
[Go!] The trunks rained down like a volley of spears.
Simon maintained his Divine Barrier. The first trunk tore through the shield like paper. Simon quickly tilted his head, and a thin line of blood appeared on his cheek as the splintered wood grazed him.
'The power is on a whole other level!'
He immediately dismissed the barrier, grabbed the Greatsword of Ruin from his back, and swung. The pursuing trunks split apart with a series of sharp cracks.
This time, it was Figaro's expression that hardened. Even though the entire tree was Sasha's body, the vessel of the Saintess, the trunk Simon had cut did not regenerate.
Figaro realized the truth. If he were cut directly by that greatsword, even as a Saintess, he would die.
[How terribly astonishing!] A monster that seemed to have been born for the sole purpose of killing a Saintess. [For my first day as a Saintess, a worthy and fitting enemy indeed!]
'White Flame Amplification Formation'
Desperate, Figaro doubled the number of magic circles, pulling out countless more enhanced tree trunks.
Just then, Akallion was caught by a trunk that shot up from below, its hind leg ensnared. The trunk flung the divine beast into the air.
"Stand back, Akallion!" Simon shouted, using the beast as a springboard to leap back onto the tree's body.
Ninety percent. Ten percent remaining. Now, Simon was running alone, his white cloak of divinity billowing as he swung the Greatsword of Ruin at everything in his path.
He cut down anything that moved, leaving nothing in his wake.
Now, even his divinity was running out. It drained his mental fortitude far more than Тёмное пламя. His head throbbed, and his vision swam.
[You monster!] Figaro shrieked in disgust.
"No matter what happens!" Simon yelled, extending his free arm behind him. Divinity flared, coalescing into a holy spear. "Sasha!"
Several bands of divinity flew and wrapped around the spear, forming the shape of a drill. "I will bring her back!"
'Lethe Original - La Esgrima'
'Argh!' With a deafening roar, the rotating divine spear shot forward. He had brought to life an image he had seen only once on the train.
[Ugh!] Figaro raised a wall of tree trunks in front of him.
The enhanced divine spear tore through the trunks, burrowing deep before stopping just a hair's breadth from Figaro's neck. His heart in his throat, Figaro gasped and stared straight ahead. Simon was right in front of him.
"The remaining distance!" Simon charged, greatsword leading the way. "Is zero!"
[It's useless!] Just as Simon lunged, he sensed something was wrong. White apples were rolling around the treetop, impossible to see from below. [Simultaneous Explosion!]
A dazzling light erupted from every apple, triggering a massive divine explosion. 'KABOOM—!' A conflagration of white flame, meant to purify all foreign matter except for himself, the Saintess.
However...
Simon was already in the air. 'As long as I'm not hit directly!' He landed. 'It's bearable!' This level of holy fire was nothing compared to Flema's.
"Haaaaah!"
Figaro was just a few steps away. Simon shot forward like an arrow, about to swing his greatsword when—
[Boy!]
One step away, he froze. He glanced down to see a tree trunk wrapped around his waist.
"Ah!"
Figaro was right there! It was dangerously close, but maybe he could force a cut. Simon stretched his front foot forward and swung the greatsword.
A searing pain shot through his right arm. Simon's vision spun.
A human arm was flying high into the sky, the Greatsword of Ruin still clutched in its hand. The moment he realized it was his own, a pain so terrible it threatened to black out his mind washed over him.
'Ughh!'
Simon bit his lip hard against the agony as more trunks wrapped around his body.
[You let your guard down at the last moment!] Figaro clenched his fist. [I'll give you credit for almost killing me, though!]
The trunks began to tighten, threatening to crush Simon's entire body. If not for Pier's Bone Armor, he would have been reduced to a pulp long ago.
[Boy! I can't hold on for long!] A cracking sound echoed from the Bone Armor as it began to splinter. His right arm and his greatsword were gone.
'Haa, haa.'
Just as his consciousness began to fade, he saw Sasha, her face still visible just beyond Figaro. Her eyes were closed, as if she were lost to the world.
'Sasha...!'
Simon reached out his remaining left arm toward her.
The moment he touched her, the world changed. He was no longer on top of Figaro's tree, but in a void of nothingness. He had entered a pure white space. The tree trunks were gone. He was free.
[Hello—]
Hearing a voice, Simon turned. A girl with hair half-white and half-red sat on a throne, wearing a colorless dress.
[We've been entangled so much, I wanted to meet you at least once.]
"You are..." Simon's voice trembled. "Who are you?"
Her lips stretched into a wide grin. 'In your human words, it would be best to call me the Essence of Purification.'
The Essence of Purification? It was talking and moving just like a person.
[This form is an avatar I've manifested, and this place is a mental scape I've created. What do you think? Isn't it cool?]
"...There's nothing here."
[I tried to interpret the final form of purification—absolute nothingness—in my own way. Ah, but enough about that.] She rested her chin on her hand. [How about making a deal with me, Simon Polentia?]
"A deal?"
As she tried to rise from her throne, invisible white chains materialized and restrained her.
[As you can see, I'm being held in an unstable state because of that Figaro fellow.]
Simon said nothing.
[Sasha and I have been caught up in this puppet show. It's unpleasant. It's horrifying!]
Simon took a shallow breath. "What are the terms?"
[Set me free. All you have to do is cut down Figaro.]
Simon glanced at his right side. Even in this mental scape, his arm was gone, blood pouring from the stump. "That seems difficult."
She smiled, showing her teeth. [I'll lend you my power. We'll join forces just long enough to get through this. How about it?]
Simon couldn't understand. "I'm a necromancer. Even if the Essence of a Saintess lends me its power, how...?"
[An excellent question!] She clapped her hands and laughed. [You're a necromancer, a Legion's contractor, and a boy! Normally, I wouldn't have even glanced your way, but ironically—] She spread her arms, a wide grin on her face. [—you have the 'qualification'!]
Simon looked at her, confused.
[You don't realize how amazing this is, but this is truly a miracle, Simon Polentia!]
He didn't know what she was talking about, but...
"This isn't the time to be picky." Simon looked up at her. "I accept your proposal, Essence of Purification."
Her lips curled into a smile. [Take my hand.]
She was bound by chains and couldn't move. Simon strode over and took her pale hand.
[I'll show you... the ultimate power.]
The world of nothingness receded, and he returned to reality. Simon was still bound by the tree trunks, and Figaro, victory assured, was tightening his grip on Simon's neck. Nothing had changed.
Or so he thought.
Figaro's pupils trembled. [No, h-how could this—huh?]
Flustered, as if he had forgotten something crucial, he frantically patted his own body.
'...Ohh.'
Simon finally understood. He understood the power surging in his chest. And what he had to do next was simple. This overflowing power...
'I just have to release a little bit of it.'
'Fwoosh!'
A mountain of pure white flame erupted from Simon's entire body. The tree that had been binding him instantly turned to ash and scattered.
[Why do you have the power of a Saintess?!] Figaro shrieked.
Simon's hair bleached white, growing long and shimmering like a living flame. His eyes blazed with a brilliant golden light, and a shroud of white fire wrapped around him protectively. A flame licked at the wound on his severed right arm, and the limb regenerated in an instant. The regenerative ability of the white flame.
[BWAHAHAHAHA!] Pier laughed thunderously. [Are you now toying with the very laws of the world, boy?!]
Simon extended his newly regenerated right arm behind him. A house-sized mass of white flame gathered in his palm and solidified. It was a sword—an anomaly forged from a substance that did not exist in this world. Its pure white blade was sublime, its edge a curve of living fire. This was the authority Simon could now wield with the power of the Essence.
'Swoosh.'
A being who was both Legion Commander and Saintess raised the sword. The dazzling, burning blade was so massive it seemed to reach the end of the sky.
And then, a miracle in the form of a sword descended.
'Simon Original – The End'
The sword of white flame bisected all of creation as it passed. Everything in its path was swallowed by a great crack of light and incinerated. That single blow...
[Agh!]
...effortlessly severed Figaro's body.
[Ha, haha! Ahahahaha!] Figaro's upper half tilted, a hollow laugh pouring from his lips as his body tumbled from the tree. It hit a branch and began to disintegrate, turning to dust as it fell. As he plummeted, he reached an arm toward Simon.
The boy with hair like white flames looked down at him, his expression unreadable.
[I—]
Seeing the ideal he had dreamed of his whole life perfectly realized before his eyes, Figaro felt his mind shatter.
[I wasn't wrong!]
—"A man accepting the Essence of a Saintess?"
—"Cut it out."
—"Please, come to your senses."
How many had laughed at his ideals? But look. In the most perfect form imaginable, the power of the Saintess had been brought to life by that boy.
[I pay my respects, Legion Commander. No...] His lips moved one last time. [...to the first Saint.]

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