Speaking the harshest words with the most languid posture.
The Singularity's Archangel, Metatron · Jeanne, revealed her true form at this moment.
[Slaanesh Avalon] shattered into pieces after blocking just one instance of the flames from the sky.
One can imagine—
just how terrifying that attack was.
"It's her."
Fujimaru Ritsuka immediately recognized Metatron.
"The Saint amidst the fire punishment—"
"Mm..." Metatron stretched lazily.
Her listless gaze swept over Fujimaru Ritsuka and Mash, and then she showed a slight hint of interest.
"It's you two."
"Why didn't you hide in the holy land I prepared for you? In that case, after the flames finished baptizing this land, you could still have lived—"
"Who wants that kind of thing!"
Fujimaru Ritsuka retorted against the other's statement without hesitation.
"Burning down the entire world like this, it's too terrifying!"
"Is that so..."
"Then forget it."
Metatron looked as if she had absolutely no desire to argue with Fujimaru Ritsuka.
She just continued to slump on the throne, listlessly sizing up Orleans City before her, which had already been destroyed beyond recognition.
"Originally, I just thought that since you and she were able to escape that inner condemnation once,"
"it meant you felt no guilt about burning 'my' body to death, and perhaps shouldn't have been involved in this judgment."
"But I respect your choice."
The floating cannons gathered in an instant.
"Die here together—"
"Wait!"
Having witnessed Metatron's flames, Jeanne [Alter] naturally knew that the people present could not possibly withstand such a strike again.
"The other 'me', did you appear just to kill so many people?!"
"This isn't right, is it?!"
"What are you saying?"
Metatron supported her chin with one hand.
"People make mistakes, they must die."
"Before intending to judge 'me', at least prove that you yourself are innocent—"
"But such a person does not exist."
"Thinking about it, it makes sense..." Metatron's fingers tapped lightly on the armrest of the throne, "If even the 'me' who was so holy was pushed onto the stake, there must be even more filth hidden within."
"Investigating one by one is really too troublesome, so simply—"
"Yawn—" Metatron yawned once again.
Compared to the original Saint, this descended Archangel was obviously listless.
"Call them all here and kill them all at once."
"So..."
Jeanne [Alter] realized.
"Is that what the bells we heard that day meant?"
"Mn..." Metatron nodded, "Witnessing oneself being judged is in itself a form of judgment."
"If one truly had a clear conscience, how could they have come because of such bells?"
Boom—
Boom—
Pillars of flame ignited one after another in Orleans City.
Soon, they grew crimson wings like loyal angels.
They united.
They approached.
The scorching ring of light began to shrink step by step, rushing straight towards the collapsed Angel's Tower within the city.
Where the ring of fire passed, the giant dragons that were originally still struggling went completely silent, leaving only those crawlers who hadn't died out yet screaming with hopeful redemption.
"Save us—"
The voices considered sinful by Metatron circled around the tower like echoes from hell.
"Mash!"
"Yes—"
Although she knew Fujimaru Ritsuka wanted her to protect everyone, Mash simply didn't know what to do.
The shield supported with all her strength might be enough to resist the flames on one side, but how could she completely defend against this approaching fire that was like a hunting circle?
"It's not like this!"
"The other 'me', absolutely shouldn't be like this, right?!"
Jeanne [Alter]'s eyes were full of despair.
"What kind of judgment is this—"
"It's completely just a massacre, right?"
"Not so."
Metatron sized up Jeanne [Alter].
"I have always known of your existence, and I once expected that you could become one of those few exceptions. In that case, perhaps it would make me feel that this judgment could stop here."
"But obviously, you don't want to become such a person."
"You enjoy pain, indulge in lust—"
"You like the carnival of the flesh, rather than spiritual holiness."
Metatron looked at Ian as she said this.
"For that moment of pleasure, you can sell your soul."
"Hope, as expected, does not exist— Mm... I've said so much, so tired."
"Anyway, let's just leave it at that."
The flames approached closer and closer, completely surrounding the group inside.
"I'm tired, so let's end it."
"Wait!"
Jeanne [Alter], who had been shamed by Metatron's words into having nowhere to hide, suddenly raised her head at this moment.
She was seen throwing aside the witch hat she had been wearing all along.
"Then if..."
"I am willing to accept such judgment in place of others, will that be okay?"
"I will prove that your thoughts are correct!"
"..."
Metatron sat up slightly.
The flames also temporarily stopped their approach.
"You mean, the impure you feels that you alone can block the flames of judgment for these people who judged 'me'?"
"Yes."
"I am the other you, so I can also count as a Saint, right?!"
Jeanne [Alter] shouted thus.
The giant dragons were dead, and her own flames could not pose any threat to Metatron.
Then—
Only this could be done, right?
"Is that so?"
Metatron seemed to gain some spirit.
"It's not that I can't let you give it a try—"
"However, if you die..."
"I won't have any complaints!"
In the blink of an eye, Jeanne [Alter] found herself tied to the cross.
Only, what was different from before was...
This time, looking at the flames at her feet, only fear remained in her heart.
This was sin in the true sense, far beyond what the word pain could describe.
"Starting now—"
In the distant light, Metatron whispered softly on the throne.
In just an instant, Jeanne [Alter] was surrounded by flames.
The cross turned into scorching charcoal, and the witch's outfit on her body shrank into stripes due to the baking, corroding the girl's skin.
"It hurts—"
"It hurts so much—"
Jeanne [Alter] raised her head high.
That was the incontinent appearance presented finally after struggling fruitlessly.
"Can't take it after just this little while?"
Metatron closed her eyes.
"But you still have to be burned like this for another one thousand three hundred and seventy-two years before it ends."
"How can it be so long?!"
"Because sin is such a long thing." Metatron lay on the armrest of the throne.
Impossible to withstand.
Yet impossible to escape.
Only helplessness remained in Jeanne [Alter]'s heart.
"Someone... save me?"
What the girl was completely unaware of was that while she was being baked by the endless fire punishment, a black shadow had quietly gathered behind her.
"Oh Archangel, as long as it is something impure, it should be judged, right?"
"Of course."
Metatron answered without thinking, and then suddenly realized something.
"Why, are there other people here?"
"This is her execution ground!"
"Indeed."
"But no one ever said that one cannot be judged together with the sinner, right?"
"Eh, it's you..."
In Jeanne [Alter]'s eyes, from within that scorching flame, a burning black figure walked out.
"Ian..."
The black shadow's voice continued.
"And—"
"No one ever said that angels are absolutely flawless existences, right?"
"What?"
As soon as the voice fell, the defenseless Metatron found that the black shadow had already arrived in front of her.
Rip—
A pair of forceful hands tore open the holy garment on the girl angel's chest from left and right.
Some large and round things shook out along with it, and were then firmly grasped.
"If you are also tainted—"
"What will become of the judgment?"
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