for her to do here. If Kaito Sena were here, what would he do? If his reaction to the Room of Pain was anything to go off, he would have been furious. Trembling with rage, he would've cried, Don't you have even a little respect for the living?! For the deed he'd be faced with belied no respect for them whatsoever. Yet even so, he'd have chosen to put them out of their misery himself. This isn't purification. This is murderâ€”and it's a burden I should be the one to bear, he'd have said. He was simply that kind of person. But Elisabeth wasn't. She cared little about who in particular dealt the coup de grÃ¢ce. After all, it didn't change the result. The ones death awaited would die, nothing more. She took a step backward. La Christoph nodded. Despite his lack of lungs, he took a deep breath, then began chanting his prayer. The words had a pleasant heft to them as they echoed through the room. "We gather and wait." "So hark and rejoice." Suddenly, a different voice cut in. Elisabeth narrowed her eyes. The voice was Lewis's, but he wasn't there with them. Elisabeth looked up at the ceiling. The countless lizard engravings were all looking down. One of their eyes must have contained a magic communication device. The wombs responded to his distant call by beginning to vibrate. Then the sacks of flesh started undulating from within like lumps of soft bread dough. Laughter sounded from within them, crying echoed out from them, and the two merged into a single perverse melody. Elisabeth could tell. 'Tis a song. A song of blessingâ€” â€”and a song of joy. The voices were celebrating the most basic pleasure known to any living creatureâ€”birth. "The hammer falls on thee!" "Be born unto joy and love!" La Christoph and Lewis's voices overlapped completely. Lewis's words were ironic and bordering on blasphemous, but at the same time, they were completely true. The mixed-race folk sought greater weapons. The babies' birth would bring them joy. And the babies would surely be loved. Elisabeth knew. No matter how malignant a weapon may be... ...Any blade that lopped off a hated foe's head would be loved all the same. And the world would keep turning, just as properly as ever. ""Ah, aah, ah, AH, ahh, AAAAAAaaaaaaAaAaAaAAAAAA!"" The choruses rang out. La Christoph's ribs opened. A vast flock of skylarks took flight. As they did, the wombs burst open. A perversely satisfying popping noise filled the hall as skin split and tore. Chunks of fat and flesh sprayed through the air. Organs, now fully liquefied, gushed out as the babies thrust their gray arms upward. It was a horrible, grisly spectacle. Yet even so, someone had wished for that birth. Seeing that made Elisabeth realize something. Perhaps the world, which turned so properlyâ€” â€”had been doomed from the very beginning. *** "...Hmm?" Then a very out-of-place voice echoed through the air. Elisabeth instinctively whirled around. A mass of copper-red fur was racing toward her like a fireball. Her eyes went wide. Without a moment's hesitation, the voice's owner brandished his sword. *** "Why, you'reâ€”!" With an air-splitting cry, the man leveled a beautiful slash. The broad side of his sword grazed Elisabeth's hair, then smashed the face of the baby who'd been stealthily approaching her. Amniotic fluid splashed around her would-be assailant as it crumpled to the ground. "There's more coming!" The man slammed the back of his blade into another one's abdomen. It did a tailspin through the air, then slammed into the wall with a horrible splatting noise. Good eye, Elisabeth thought, nodding in admiration. Slashing attacks didn't work on demon children. They may have been defective products, but the babies had still inherited their parents' physical properties. The man had probably learned this from the huge number of Ragnarok foes that couldn't be harmed by swords. He was instinctively using his long sword as a bludgeoning implement. Not only was it clever, but his blows were also quite fast for how hefty they were. Yet as always, he relies too heavily on brute strength. "Phew... That should keep us safe for the time being." After confirming that their foes had been temporarily rendered powerless, the manâ€”a beastman with a copper-red wolf's headâ€”exhaled heavily. Elisabeth was well acquainted with the fighting style, as well as with the man using it. In the Peace Brigade, which she was captain of, he was her second-in-command. He was a seasoned warrior, and when Kaito Sena had been around, he had been one of his closest friends. But more importantly, he was someone who had no business being there. "Lute!" Elisabeth turned to her subordinate, who should have been at the World Tree, and shouted his name. "Ah, Madam Elisabeth, you're all right! Ah, er, Captain Elisabeth, rather. To think it's been this long and I still haven't gotten used to it... I beg your pardon for my persistent rudeness!" "It's fine. I can't say I much care how you refer to me, but what in the blazes are you doing here?" "Well, you see, Captain Elisabeth, Iâ€” Why, I say!" Right as Lute was about to answer, the babies hunched over like animals and rushed toward them all at once. They had the curiosity of children, and it would seem Elisabeth and Lute had piqued their interest. A veritable wave of gray arms came reaching for them one after another. Lute desperately batted their soft, pliable hands away with his sword. "Damn you cowards, grouping up like that! Face me one at a time like men!" "...Hmph." Lute may as well have been talking to a brick wall, but he continued shouting nonetheless. It was no wonder he and Kaito Sena had gotten along. As Lute struggled alone, Elisabeth quickly counted the babies. The ones in the group's center had been burned up by the skylarks, but many of them had escaped evaporation. This is looking to be quite a hassle... Come to think of it, how's La Christoph holding up? Elisabeth glanced to her side. La Christoph was completely unharmed. For some reason, though, he was tilting his head to the side. It didn't look like he was emotionally shaken or anything, but he seemed to be having trouble wrapping his mind around Lute's sudden arrival. Once she realized that, Elisabeth finally figured out what was going on. "Hmm... 'Twould seem that while you're fit to command in dire situations, when it comes to matters involving yourself or unexpected aid such as this, you're a little slow, aren't you? Or rather, quite slow, 'twould seem." "It's a weakness all saints share, but I do have deficiencies when it comes to common sense and knowledge of customary reactions. As such, I'm afraid I can't make an accurate comparison, but...if the worldly Torture Princess says it is so, then I imagine you're right." "I don't know about 'worldly.' It merely... I don't know... It seemed as though you were spacing outâ€”" "Rgh! What are these foul creatures?!" Elisabeth blinked in surprise. Now that she noticed, Lute's situation had grown somewhat dire. One of the babies had grabbed hold of his sword and was gnawing on its point. In seconds, it began crumbling away into sand. Flustered, Lute fell back. The moment he did, Elisabeth snapped her fingers. "Holy Water Sprinkler." Several spiky iron balls came crashing down from the air. Each ball happily bounced around, landing on the babies' heads over and over and riddling them with holes. Fountains of blood gushed up and painted the ceiling red. As the babies crumpled to the ground, the balls bounced back and carefully ran their bodies over. After a certain point, the babies couldn't take the attacks anymore, and their bodies broke down. Darkness and crimson flower petals splashed down and floated atop the amniotic fluid. Shortly after, the babies breathed their last. Lute heaved a sigh of relief. He retrieved his sword and inspected the damage to the blade. Before he could get far, though, he sensed Elisabeth's questioning stare bearing down on him. He leaped to his feet and began talking. "Ah, that's right! You wanted to know what I was doing here. After we parted ways, our group successfully rendezvoused with the World Tree's guard squad. Your prediction was right, Madam Elisabethâ€”nobody else was harmed. Then after we relayed the sad news of the imperial princesses' passing, we heard about the attack on the demi-humans. When I found out you went in alone, I knew I couldn't merely stand by, so I searched high and low for some way I could help...but my men stepped in to stop me before I could make too big a fool of myself. But right when I was truly at a loss, he invited me to join him." "...Who?" "Then we decided to rescue you together! Now, um, I realize it's a bit late to ask, but...what were those things?" Lute's tail curled up timidly. Elisabeth narrowed her eyes. Now she finally knew how Lute had been able to act so normally. He never saw the "mothers," nor did he see the babies themselves being born. Elisabeth cast her gaze back inside the hall. Not only had the mothers popped, but many of them had been completely burned away. Now their charred, scattered remains were barely even recognizable as having been human. After seeing the light from La Christoph's attack, Lute had probably charged in without thinking about things too hard. He still didn't understand what had actually happened there. It was very like him. But perhaps it was also for the best. Someone like Lute would be happier not knowing the tragedy's specifics. However, Elisabeth thought, frowning, who in the world could have invited him there? Jeanne and Izabella aside, I find it hard to imagine anyone who would dare to try rescuing the Torture Princess and the saints' representative with a mere two men. In fact, she couldn't think of a single person who might. She racked her brains, baffled. The moment she did, there came a peculiar sound. Elisabeth whirled around once more. A new individual was walking their way, his pointy shoes clicking as he did. He spoke in a hoarse voice. "I can't say I condone charging in without confirming the situation first, Sir Lute. And not only that, but you left me behind as well... Our races have been close for some time, true, but goodness gracious, how your people's hotheadedness irks me..." The man was garbed in a coarse robe designed to keep out sand. Claws and scales gleamed on his hands. He fussily adjusted the glasses atop his lizard nose. It was often difficult to make out a demi-human's facial expression, but the sarcastic smile on his face was all too plain to see. Elisabeth was shocked. Of all the people she'd been expecting to see, he certainly wasn't one of them. "Aguina? Aguina Elephabred?!" "Just Aguina is fine, Madam Elisabeth Le Fanu. I'm aware of how troublesome our surnames are for people who aren't used to pronouncing them. If you try too hard, you're liable to bite your tongue." The demi-human high official gave a small bow as he replied. He was in charge of much of his country's foreign affairs, so he spent a fair bit of his time in the World Tree. He must have been abroad during the attack, fortunately allowing him to avoid it. Still, Aguina is a dyed-in-the-wool blood purist. It would have made sense if he'd headed for the temple, but there was no way he'd be putting himself on the line to save her and La Christoph. That wasn't the Aguina she knew. Aguina seemed to have sensed Elisabeth's doubts, as the look in his eyes softened a little. "Why so surprised? As I hear it, the people in the temple have already been saved. And if that's the case, then I have but one