The Role of Speakers in Battle

The Saintess sang, her voice heavenly.

The atmosphere was excellent.

The fanatics made their entrance, whipping themselves before the divine statue as they confessed their sins.

It felt pretty good.

Then the fanatics nailed the Saintess upright onto the altar and bled her dry. This...

How provincial.

There was something even more explosive.

Look, the fanatics had just carved flowers into the Saintess. The moment they turned around, they plunged knives into their own hearts, blood spraying three feet away.

The religious atmosphere was instantly cranked to the max.

Don't be afraid, newcomers, don't be afraid. This was all part of the process, the only path toward rebirth. Look, the archbishop had taken the stage, right? In a moment, he would begin expounding the scriptures and call upon the gods to perform miracles, reviving every fanatic who had just been sacrificed in blood.

As for the Saintess?

Ha, what Saintess didn't get bled three or four times a month? Child's play.

Look, the blood flowing from the Saintess's body was purple. That was the color of Divine Blood. In a moment, the bishop would use that Divine Blood to invoke divine grace.

Listen, the archbishop had begun preaching.

Look, the choir had begun singing hymns.

The harmony was good!

The high and low parts were held beautifully!

Everything was perfect, perfect!

Then—

Bang! The glass at the top of the wall behind the archbishop suddenly exploded, becoming hundreds of fluttering colored shards. Sunlight fiercely stabbed into the cathedral. Within that blinding radiance, a tall figure leaped in, crashing down like a demon descending into the mortal world and drawing cries of shock from every believer.

The eight-meter drop flashed by in an instant, yet that tall, powerful body seemed to tread upon the wind, making not the slightest sound as