In the blink of an eye, Diadora's arms and legs were gone, cleanly severed.
ClockUp: Deactivated.
Time resumed its normal flow in Rod's eyes.
To the rest of the world, he had vanished and now reappeared out of nowhere.
"Aaaaargh! My arms! My legs!"
Diadora's mangled body hit the floor with a wet thud.
The pain, delayed by Rod's time acceleration, now surged through his entire being like a tidal wave.
His skin turned deathly pale, cold sweat soaked his body, and his bloodshot eyes bulged from the agony.
A dark pool of blood spread out beneath him, soaking the floor.
He shrieked in torment.
This pampered demon prince had never experienced such suffering.
His howls echoed through the room.
Any normal person would've passed out by now, but as a demon, Diadora's vitality was absurdly tenacious, an unfortunate trait in this case.
He wasn't like those from the Phoenix clan, who could regenerate even after being reduced to a fine mist.
Still, if treated properly, his limbs could be reattached, no long-term damage.
But this wasn't the Underworld.
He had snuck out alone.
No one from his noble family even knew where he was.
"Stop screaming. It's grating."
Rod dug at his ear. This bastard's voice was sharper than a banshee's.
He figured someone would show up soon anyway.
"I'm going to kill you!!!"
Diadora's momentary shock cleared. He glared at Rod, eyes burning with hate.
If looks could kill, Rod would've died a billion times over.
"Less whining. Time is short. I ask, you answer. Play nice and maybe I'll let you live."
The robed girls flinched. One opened her mouth to speak but went silent at the sight of Rod's blood-soaked figure, eyes like a god of death.
Sensing a sliver of hope, Diadora forced himself to calm down.
Yet fear and fury still clouded his gaze.
How had a high-class, pure-blood demon like him fallen to some two-bit exorcist?
"Where are the nuns you kidnapped?"
"…They're all here."
"What's the name of the saint you lured tonight? Did she use her Sacred Gear to heal you?"
At that, Diadora's eyes lit up.
Right!
He could have the girl heal him once he was free!
"Yes! Her name is Asia Argento. And yeah, she healed my wounds using her Sacred Gear, though it's the first time I've ever seen one like it."
Back when Asia had healed his self-inflicted wounds, Diadora had clearly felt the essence of holy light in her ability.
But holy light should've been toxic to demons.
Yet her power healed him, undeniably.
Fascinating.
He hadn't had time to think too deeply then.
When the other clergy appeared, he'd made a quick getaway.
"Now can you let me go? I'm a high-ranking noble of the Underworld! The next heir of House Astaroth! Let me go and I'll reward you handsomely!"
Rod gave a nonchalant shrug. "Sure. Just one last question."
Diadora's heart fluttered with renewed hope.
If he made it back alive, he'd mobilize every resource he had to put this bastard on a global bounty list!
But first, survive.
"What's the question?"
Rod smiled. "Simple. Prove the Goldbach Conjecture."
"…What?"
Diadora froze.
Goldbach what now?
He had no idea what that was!
"…Sorry. Wrong answer."
Rod raised his Nichirin Blade.
The system-made version outperformed the original.
It was sharper, more durable, one of the few weapons capable of cutting through a high-class demon's body.
"Wait! My blood relative is Beelzebub, the current Demon King of the Underworld! Ajuka Astaroth is my uncle! If you kill me, he'll avenge me!!"
"You done?"
Rod glanced at him. Without a word, he pulled out his handgun and emptied an entire magazine into Diadora's crotch.
A scream followed.
The kind of scream that could shatter glass.
The kind that echoed in your soul.
Then Rod calmly drove the Nichirin Blade through Diadora's forehead.
[Mission "Fallen Saints" Complete]
[Reward: +10 Church Reputation | Sacred Sword: Sword of the Lake]
[Sword of the Lake (Also known as EX Curry Stick): Forged by spirits in Avalon, its guard is cast in gold, its hilt encrusted with gems. Its blade cleaves steel like paper. Possesses Noble Phantasm: Excalibur. Converts the user's mana into radiant energy and unleashes it in battle.]
"…Curry Stick?"
Rod raised an eyebrow.
That wasn't supposed to be his sword.
Wasn't this the exclusive weapon of the Blanket Queen?
How did I end up with it?
It even came with its own Noble Phantasm function.
Though it drained mana to use, Rod didn't yet know how heavy the cost would be.
If it was too much, it'd have to be reserved as a trump card.
Still, it was far better than the Nichirin Blade for handling high-tier demons.
Rod only managed earlier because his stats were already high enough to break through Diadora's defense.
He checked the system map, no new red dots.
Tucking the sacred sword into his inventory, he turned to the girls in the room.
They had removed their robes and veils, revealing exotic, beautiful faces.
Even in a world overflowing with anime-level beauty, they were clearly above average.
Blonde waves, Eastern softness, demure nunnery elegance, it wasn't hard to imagine why a demon like Diadora developed his twisted taste.
He was a demon, after all.
Low moral settings came with the territory.
"Thank you for saving us."
One of the nuns placed her hands together, voice soft with gratitude.
Rod half-expected the classic line: "We can never repay you. Please let us offer our bodies."
But reality, as usual, refused to cater to fantasy.
These women had just escaped hell.
All they could think about was getting back to the safety of the Church.
"Thank you. You're with the Church too, right? Are you an exorcist?"
"Yeah. What do you plan to do now?"
Rod asked casually.
"We… we'll return to the Church. Report everything. Maybe… maybe they'll take us back."
Even as they spoke, there was uncertainty in their voices.
After all, each of them had been labeled "fallen" for some mistake, leverage Diadora had used to ensnare them.
"Then good luck."
Rod gave a short nod.
Seeing that he had no further business here, he turned and left.
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