"Tch."
Xenovia clicked her tongue, withdrawing her blade as she stepped back to Irina's side.
Her expression was still burning with hostility, but she forced the sword down.
"Fine. I won't attack… for now. Our mission comes first."
Her voice dripped with annoyance, every word bitten off like she hated even saying it.
Irina, though, didn't share that cold fire.
She looked at me—troubled, almost pleading.
"Zevion… you're being manipulated by them. It's not too late! If you come with us, the Church can help you. You'll be cleansed, set free!"
I couldn't help but stare at her.
Did she really believe that?
Was she truly that blind?
This girl actually joined the Church with full devotion, and now here she was parroting their lines like a wind-up doll.
Then again… this is the supernatural world.
Maybe church brainwashing isn't much different from a cult in the end.
Or… maybe she isn't just brainwashed.
Maybe she's scared of losing me.
I mean, I know she loves me.
And if, after years apart, I suddenly reunited with someone precious—only to find them already in a relationship with devils—wouldn't I act the same?
Sigh… Sometimes, unless you end a relationship completely and nicely, it just lingers like this, doesn't it?
Too bad I've never been strong enough to end anything with the people I care about.
So I stepped forward, stopping right in front of her.
"Zevion! I knew you'd understand!"
Irina's voice was almost trembling, relief and excitement mixed.
"Don't worry—you'll be cleansed! I'll make sure of it!"
I reached out and gently patted her head.
"Irina," I said softly, "I think you're mistaking something."
Her eyes blinked wide, confusion flashing across her face.
"Mistaking… something? What do you mean?"
I nodded slowly and continued.
"You're mistaking two things, Irina. First, the Irina I know joined the church to make it better. To spread justice. To make sure no innocent would ever suffer, right?"
She blinked, then nodded firmly, almost like a child declaring a dream.
"That's right! We will make the world a better place to live in!"
I couldn't help but smile.
Still the same Irina… earnest, headfirst, and so damn sincere.
"Then my knight in shining armor," I said, tilting my head, "can't be a racist, right? You can't judge someone just because of what others say… or because of rumors. That's how most innocents suffer, isn't it? Because no one bothers to understand them."
Her eyes widened.
She trembled.
"But! But… they're devils…!"
"So?"
I pressed, not letting her escape.
"Who said there can't be innocent devils? You don't have to believe me, but Irina—the Irina I know would find out first, then decide. Right?"
She bit her lip, shaking slightly, but finally… she nodded.
Hesitantly.
"…Alright. I'll know them first… then decide…"
She glanced at me, vulnerable.
"So? What's the second thing I'm wrong about?"
I stepped forward and wrapped her in a gentle hug.
"The second thing you're mistaken about… is that you were ever forgotten. Or unloved. It's just…" My voice softened. "…you've grown so much I almost didn't recognize you. You've become a wonderful girl, Irina. A truly great one."
Her eyes brimmed with tears.
"Zevion…"
She threw her arms around me, burying her face in my shoulder.
"Yes, yes. I'm still here."
I murmured, gently stroking her hair.
"Cry if you want. Let it all out."
She hugged me tighter as her tears fell on me.
"This is unacceptable! Irina—are you planning to betray the church as well?!"
Xenovia's voice cracked, her holy sword trembling as she all but screamed.
I looked up at her, my eyes cold. It was one thing for Irina—she was my childhood friend—but Xenovia?
The only reason I wasn't having Giratina erase her from the room was that she is Irina's friend.
I eased Irina away from me and stepped forward, placing myself squarely between Xenovia and everyone else.
"What makes you think you can execute her, huh?"
My tone was low, dangerous.
"What's wrong with being friends with devils? You labeled Asia a witch just for healing one."
Xenovia met my stare without flinching.
"Because they are a race of evil! The Lord Himself created them to be punished!"
I sighed.
Blind faith, all right.
"Then tell me," I asked evenly, "if they're a race of evil… why did God even create them?"
Her answer came fast, automatic.
"To punish them!"
Got her.
"Then that means they're already punished. So why are you the one punishing them again? Are you going against God Himself—the one who already passed judgment?"
Xenovia faltered.
The words she'd fired off with such certainty now seemed to choke her.
I smirked faintly.
In my old, non-supernatural life, I'd always wanted magic.
Religion was part of that dream.
And with the dream of someday becoming an absolute god, I'd rehearsed a hundred counterarguments to zealots exactly like her.
Guess those late-night debates weren't a waste after all.
Although I quit those debate practices when I realised that I didn't need them if I became an absolute expert.
Yeah, I was stupid.
Anyway, even if I thought she was a blind fanatic, I had no hard proof to brand her as one.
And she had enough restraint not to just charge forward with that sword, which proved she wasn't a screaming fanatic—just dangerously stubborn.
For people like that, there's a simple way to settle things.
"Say—how about we spar?"
I offered, keeping my tone casual.
"If you win, you can do whatever you want. If you lose, you stop your prejudice against them, not all but just those with me, agreed?"
A duel where the winner gets the say. Clear, old-school, and dramatic—perfect.
Xenovia studied me for a long beat, then nodded.
"Fine. Who's going to fight, then?" she asked.
Of course, I'd said it, so I had to follow through.
"I'll fight."
I said.
"This is a good chance to prove to Irina that I'm not being manipulated—and to show everyone that you're not the only one who can stand for justice."
Xenovia sneered at me, her grip tightening around that oversized sword of hers, while Irina's eyes clouded with worry.
The others?
They just exchanged knowing looks — the kind that screamed 'here we go again.'
Xenovia lifted her chin, her tone sharp and arrogant.
"You? Don't make me laugh. I'll defeat you in five seconds. So—where will we fight? I'd rather end this quickly."
Well, since I'd already given Giratina telepathy, she should be able to pick up what I wanted just from my thoughts.
So why not try something different - something dramatic?
I smiled faintly.
"Sure, Xenovia. If you're so eager, let's do it right now."
She sneered again.
"Then where? Here?"
I let my smirk widen.
"No."
The instant the word left my lips, the entire room was swallowed in utter darkness.
Shadows surged upward like a living tide, dragging us down, deeper and deeper, until the ground, the walls, the very air itself dissolved.
Everyone's footing vanished as if the world had dropped out beneath them.
Irina gasped.
Rias and Akeno stiffened in alarm. Sona pinched her nose in exasperation.
Asia clutched her cross tightly, without a worry on her face.
Maybe she became too confident now...
And then—light returned.
But not the warm glow of our world.
The sky above was fractured into countless floating shards, like broken glass hanging in endless twilight.
The ground stretched into impossible, twisting platforms that hung suspended in a sea of shimmering distortion.
Gravity felt uncertain, shifting with every step, as if the world itself was undecided on which way was "down."
The Distortion World.
My domain...
Well, Giratina's, but... what hers is mine as well.
I spread my arms wide, letting the abyssal wind swirl around me.
"We'll fight here," I declared.
.............................................................................................................................
Don't forget to vote on the poll to decide on the next fanfic, alongside only on Patreon!
Patreon link: patreon.com/zevionasgorath