"Stop her!"
Seeing Joan of Arc disregard the safety of both flanks and charge straight at her, Lineas's expression changed. She instinctively ordered Shion and Jinako to fall back and reinforce her.
"Don't even think about it!"
Before the two could disengage, Finn, his Magic Power burning around him, let out a roar. Together with Diarmuid, he became two golden blurs, setting off a string of sonic booms as they lunged forward and blocked the enemy's path.
Faced with opponents whose Magic Power had erupted under the boost of Command Spells, Shion and Jinako were unable to break through the obstruction for the moment.
But while Finn and Diarmuid had successfully bought time for Joan of Arc, every surge of Magic Power pushed their bodies closer to collapse and brought their lives another inch nearer to death.
Searching for a sliver of hope amid despair, the only wager they could place on the scales was themselves!
At that moment, in the half-collapsed upper chamber of the temple, a certain disheveled playwright overlooked the desperate battlefield. Though his eyes were bloodshot with exhaustion, inspiration still glimmered in their depths as both hands flew across an old typewriter.
"To be, or not to be—that is the question.
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles and, by opposing, end them—which is nobler?
To die, to sleep—no more.
But after seeing the bloody reality for what it is, to still say 'no' to fate without hesitation—that is true heroism..."
Having written that much, Shakespeare seemed to think of something. His brow furrowed, and his hands stalled once more as he irritably scratched at his messy hair.
So, in this story, was the tragic hero admirable, while inevitable