steel titan she'd sacrificed. But right when Jeanne was getting ready to accept her own limitations, Izabella casually made a suggestion. "Now that I think about it, couldn't you just use me?" She'd dropped that particular bomb while they were having tea, of all times. When she'd made the proposal, Jeanne's mouth had been full of biscuit. And that was how the silver puppet began dancing. "Good heavens... I suppose I'm not one to talk, given that I called myself 'the oppressor of slaves, the savior of the world, the saint, and the whore,' but why do all the women in my life have so many loose screws?" Jeanne let out an exasperated murmur. As she did, she continued waving her arms about in fluid, passionate motions. Down below, where her rose eyes fell, a silver light traced a graceful arc. In accordance with Jeanne's commands, the woman was weaving her way in between the hostages. Her mechanized legs kicked at the rebels' arms from below, then followed up with strikes to their chests. One after another, their assorted weapons went flying through the air. The woman's blows came straight yet were curved. Normal people couldn't even begin to follow them. The mixed-race folk toppled over, powerless to resist. The next moment, though, a sharp noise rang out, and a bullet grazed her. "â€”Gunfire?" Jeanne cocked her head a little to the side. When she looked over, she saw a half-beastfolk youth reloading his gun with powder and a bullet. The demi-humans' metalworking was unparalleled. After mastering cannons, they'd begun developing guns, but there were still a lot of kinks to be worked out before the weapons could enter mass production. At the moment, the only ones that could be found in the wild were the few prototypes owned by members of the ruling class who'd taken an interest in them. The rebels had probably pillaged it from one of the hostages' houses. "Wh-what the...? You're not human, you're not mixed-race... What the hell are you?!" All the fur around the young man's face was bristling up. He fired a second time. However, the woman swatted the bullet away without sparing it a second glance. Then she closed in on the youth and sank her knee into his gut. Vomit sprayed from his mouth as he crumpled to the ground. Mixed-race folk and hostages alike balked at the sight. The way she was moving was beyond the capacity of any living creature. Technically, it isn't just her movements. That ain't the half of what my lady's capable of. As Jeanne observed the panic below, her thoughts turned. At the moment, the woman was combining her own sight with Jeanne's overhead viewâ€”which she was sending directly to herâ€”and Jeanne's orders to make the optimal choice at every turn. It was a feat that qualified squarely as superhuman. She carried out Jeanne's absurd demands one after another, never once pausing or stopping. The way she ran, like a skater gliding on ice, was spellbinding. It felt almost as though it should have been accompanied by music. Suddenly, there was a change in the inner sanctuary. Several small holes appeared in its gold- and jewel-adorned walls. Several metal spheres had just cut themselves out from inside. As they spun, they extended their legs. Once spread out, their full bodies looked like spiders. However, not all of them had eight limbs. Some of them even had an odd number of legs. They quickly began scuttling across the ground. They chased after the woman, then leaped toward her. Once they were in midair, they spun about again, changing once more into all sorts of different shapes. With clicks, they slotted themselves into the woman's chest and rear. Each one of them was a "lifeless living creature" made from a part of Deus Ex Machina. Once they returned to the woman's body, they became mere "parts" again and went silent. It looked like all of them had made it back up from underground successfully. After making sure they were all safe and accounted for, Jeanne nodded. Then she quietly summed up the situation. "As evidenced by my presence here, teleporting into the temple was trivial. The hard part was what came afterward... If we weren't careful, the hostages would have been in danger. And most importantly, the rebels had a lookout stationed with the Sand Queen, so there was a risk that the hostages themselves would interfere with any rescue attempts out of fear that the rebels would harm their queen. But still, takin' the biggest obstacle and blowin' the damn thing up ourselves? That was one crazy-ass solution." Jeanne shrugged in exasperation. Meanwhile, the woman continued her elegant dance. Jeanne took a moment to think back on how they'd gotten there. Their work had started around when Elisabeth left for the demi-human lands in accordance with the man in black's demand. At the same time, Jeanne and the woman had secretly teleported into the temple where the Sand Queen's body was enshrined. Once they arrived, Jeanne hid near the ceiling, and the woman took cover behind a pillar. Then the woman broke off as much of Deus Ex Machina as she could without endangering her life and sent the pieces to invade the inner sanctuary by burrowing holes in its walls. As part of their threat, the mixed-race folk had made it known that they'd set up gunpowder around the Sand Queen. By having the machines strike their legs together, Jeanne and the woman had started a fire and set off an explosion. They'd followed Elisabeth's plan to a T. However, that wasn't to say they didn't run into problems. In fact, they ran into nothing but problems. Blowing up the Sand Queen's corpse wasn't just racially insensitive. It was essentially a declaration of war. When the woman first heard Elisabeth's plan, she'd cited that fact as part of her vehement objection. However, Elisabeth had merely replied with an indominable laugh. "â€”Aye, so it would be. If we truly destroyed it, that is. And if we were caught." In other words, they'd be in the clear as long as the corpse didn't actually get damaged and as long as no one found out who was responsible. The plan was reckless, but given the situation they were in, it also had a certain logic to it. All they had to do was line everything up nicely and cover their tracks, and there wouldn't be any problems. Even so, the woman's fears persisted. However, Elisabeth just grinned and went on. "â€”Worry not. Actually destroying the Sand Queen would require a blast strong enough to level the entire inner sanctuary." Elisabeth had evidence to back her claim up, too. There were two pieces of information she was basing it offâ€”"the Sand Queen's shrine had been built from the bones of her close relatives," and "some of the pillars had mineralized into gems." Normally, that kind of change would be impossible. Synthetically mineralizing bones into gems required one to apply high heat and pressure to them in a special mage's furnace. It was hard to imagine having that happen naturally to bones that were part of a building. In short, it was reasonable to assume that the change had been caused by something about the materialsâ€”the bones of the Queen's relatives. And it followed that there was a good chance that the same thing had happened to the Queen herself, possibly to an even more dramatic degree. In the short time before she had to depart, Elisabeth had gone around and made the civil officials dig up every record and piece of information they could find related to the Sand Queen. However, the demi-humans had kept a tight lid on information regarding her corpse. The search seemed futile. Surprisingly enough, though, they were able to find consistent accounts in old songs and legends. "A body unheld by death's fell claim." "A radiant form." "A glittering frame." "Adorned with reddened scales." "Like beautiful stones." "Our eternal protector." All those phrases implied that the Sand Queen's corpse both glowed red and hadn't decomposed. It seemed entirely likely that her scales had grown over her flesh and bones and transmuted her corpse into gems. And given that those same gems were being used to support their most sacred shrine, they were probably highly sturdy. The tales of how the Sand Queen's scales had protected her in battle while she was still alive supported the theory as well. In following, Elisabeth concluded that a random handful of explosives wouldn't be enough to damage it. However, that didn't change the fact that the hostages were being cowed into submission out of fear that the Sand Queen's corpse would be harmed. For the devout, the mere prospect of having an idol attacked was often scary. Humanity was no different in that regard. For example, the Saint statues were nothing more than lumps of bronze, but if you took a whip to one, the faithful would still raise their voices in protest. The mixed-race folk were taking the demi-humans' simple, base piety and using it against them. Elisabeth wanted to take advantage of that fact. As long as Jeanne and Izabella were able to get out, all that'd be left behind would be the Sand Queen's undamaged corpse. Everything would get tied up neatly. The explosion would get written off as the fault of the mixed-race folk, or perhaps just a pile of built-up ash spontaneously combusting or something. As Vlad had once put it, there were times when victory demanded one to abandon their scruples. It was fitting, then, that such a battle plan would come from his own beloved daughter. "I'm sure that aspect was unintentional on the little lady's part, mind you. She might be adopted, but those two are more alike than... Ah, shit, I got distracted. Eh, not that my lady really needs the help." Jeanne blinked. Below her, the dance was reaching its conclusion. Most of the mixed-race folk were already on the ground. However, the last oneâ€”a man with bits and features from all three racesâ€”was mounting a desperate resistance. After miraculously repelling the woman's slash, he made a break for it. Then he reached out a scale- and fur-covered hand and hoisted a nearby demi-human girl up by her bound arms. The girl screamed. Her blue scales were adorned with fine silks, meaning she was probably a member of some noble's household. The man pressed a dagger against her thin neck. "D-don't come any closer! Stay back, or the girl gets it!" I recognize you had to come up with it on the spur of the moment, but holy shit, could you have picked a bigger clichÃ©? Jeanne thought about it for a moment. There were so many mixed-race people in the temple that efficiency couldn't possibly have been their foes' primary goal. From that, she inferred they didn't have anyone on-site nearly as strong as the solo attacker who'd gone after the Capital and ultimately committed suicide. They probably wanted to give their younger members field experience by having them watch over unresisting hostages. That was more or less what she'd expected. All it would take was a single order, and the woman could end things right there. Now then, what to do? I think... However, Jeanne intentionally decided to take action herself. She stepped forward, leaving the metal hoop and striding into empty space as casually as if she were going for an afternoon stroll. Her honey-blond hair gently fluttered as her pale body pitched forward. Then Jeanne fell, much in the way she had once before. She aimed for the man's head. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. Those were words shared by everyone who'd ever had a perfectly conceived plan fall to pieces before their eyes. It was true of humans, beastfolk, demi-humans, and mixed-race folk alike. It was a natural reaction. And it only made matters worse when the one who