George III wasn't like William Augustus I — didn't have that same ability to shrug things off, to say "the tomb can just be rebuilt" when it came to something as important as leads on the Nation of Disorder.
To George III, no matter how important the Nation of Disorder was, no matter how deeply tied it was to what came beyond true godhood, all of that was something to think about only after he'd actually ascended to godhood himself.
Right now, what mattered most was becoming Black Emperor!
He'd spent all this time planning under the Church's watchful pressure, luring out the Castia and Tamara Angels — partly to inflict serious damage on them ahead of time, so they couldn't interfere once his own ascension actually happened.
And partly, using the opening their attack created to trigger a war, laying the final groundwork for his own ascension ritual.
But now, the tomb was destroyed.
Only one, sure — but that alone likely meant his ascension timeline would be pushed back significantly, and the longer this dragged on, the worse it was for him — especially since his plan to ascend to Black Emperor was already something of an open "secret."
"You. Are. Dead!!!"
In that moment, George III's intent to kill hardened completely.
Forget the Nation of Disorder — right now, all he wanted was to eliminate this man, once and for all.
"Distortion!"
A cold light flashed in his eyes as he twisted Vincent's mind and body, then raised a hand, unleashing several abilities at once, instantly wringing him like a twisted rag.
Crack!
Vincent's mangled body dissolved into a shattered mirror, his true self reappearing dozens of meters away — the Witch Pathway's mirror stand-in, capable of dying in his place even against a Sequence 1 Grand Angel.
But George III's assault wasn't over. Abilities capable of twisting and shattering rules and order themselves came rushing in right behind it, carrying a lethal edge.
Vincent's form turned illusory, transparent, avoiding the entire barrage through simple "nonexistence" — the "Emperor's New Clothes" that had been "Deprived" from him earlier had been restored, now that Derek Augustus lay dying.
But his already-depleted spirituality was completely drained the instant he used the Emperor's New Clothes again.
Vincent felt like steel needles were being driven into his skull, twisting violently. Cracks split open across his skin, revealing, within each one, a wildly rolling eyeball — the loss of control triggered by total spirituality exhaustion.
"You... got any other options?"
Vincent asked in his mind, forcing himself to stay conscious.
Bernadette was quiet for a few seconds, then said, heavy: "There is."
"Really?"
Her answer genuinely surprised him.
"Use the Sage's Diadem. Split off as much of your soul as you possibly can, and send it into the Nation of Disorder."
"And then?"
"And then, protect those soul fragments. Use them to recover, and to avenge me."
"???"
Vincent was stunned. "Are you insane?"
"It's the best option we have."
Bernadette, unusually, sounded perfectly calm. "Don't forget — half my soul still lives in your world. So... I won't actually die."
Vincent shot back, angry, "That's not the same thing!"
"That soul was always mine. It's still me."
"No. To me, what makes a person who they are isn't their body, or their soul — it's their memories."
"..."
She gave a soft laugh. "I agree with that. But it's still the only option we have."
"Otherwise, if we really both die here together, then it really is over. Everything."
"Then... let's roll the dice one more time."
Before Bernadette could respond, Vincent took a deep breath and shouted up at the silver serpent that was Ouroboros: "Ouroboros! Go, now!"
Then he tilted his head back and shouted, in Giant language, at the top of his lungs:
"LEODRO!"
"LEODRO!"
"Leodro! I'm calling your name — do you have the guts to answer?!"
Vincent's voice rang out across the sky.
In an instant, the world between heaven and earth fell utterly silent, as if even the wind itself had vanished.
RUMBLE!
A low peal of thunder rolled through the air, and the sky went black in an instant.
Bolt after bolt of lightning, in every different color, leapt through the high heavens, clawing, spreading without restraint, seeming to wrap the entire sky in an ocean of thunder.
George III's face darkened further. Having reached the level he had, he understood perfectly well what Vincent's shout had just summoned — but he didn't flee immediately. Even if it meant facing that Tyrant's fury head-on, he was determined to kill Vincent first.
Vincent pressed his fingers hard against his temples, more cracks splitting across his body by the second, loss of control drawing ever closer — all of it in service of squeezing out every last drop of spirituality he could, to keep the "Emperor's New Clothes" alive just a little longer.
He fixed George III with a cold stare, unable to speak through the pain, but the meaning in his eyes was unmistakable: if you've got the guts, gamble with me.
Bet that my "Emperor's New Clothes" can outlast the time it takes for Leodro's fury to come crashing down. Bet that you might get caught, even destroyed, by Leodro's thunder, just for the sake of finishing me off.
Vincent thought, quietly: "Sorry. Looks like we're probably going to die here together today."
"..."
Bernadette's voice, though, came back gentle. "I'm the one who should be sorry. If it weren't for helping me complete my ascension ritual, for helping me stop George III, you'd never have had any reason to get tangled up in this mess at all."
Vincent laughed. "Yeah. Which means you owe me one, Bernadette."
"Fine."
She accepted that readily enough. She was quiet for a moment, then asked, "Vincent — have you known, all along, what's going to happen in our world?"
"Yes."
"How much do you know?"
"About your world, I can only say I have a rough sense of the overall shape of things — the general direction it's heading. Including... the Fool. Including George III. Including your father... and so on."
Vincent paused for a moment, then added, with a quiet laugh, "And of course, that includes you too. Queen Mystic Bernadette."
"I knew you, long before we ever actually met. Classmate Huang Beibei."
RUMBLE!
Before that deafening thunder crashed down, bolt after bolt of silver-white lightning, thick as giant serpents, struck straight at George III, at the dying Derek Augustus, at Ouroboros, and at Vincent himself.
But the thickest, densest, most terrifying share of that thunder poured down directly onto Adam.
And it was right then that Vincent finally hit his absolute limit. The Emperor's New Clothes gave out.
Crack!
Almost in the same instant, Vincent was crushed to powder once more, ground into pulp, his body and soul obliterated in a single stroke.
Yes — for a Sequence 1 Grand Angel truly set on killing a Sequence 3, it really was this simple.
But at that exact same moment, George III — having just killed Vincent and turned to flee — was struck by a barrage of multicolored lightning bolts.
Even as a Sequence 1 Grand Angel, one of the strongest beings beneath true godhood, taking over a dozen direct lightning strikes shattered his body and dealt severe damage to his soul.
Still — not fatal.
Dragging his ravaged body, he used a gap between lightning strikes to flee in a desperate panic — but just as he cleared the lightning zone, he glanced back and caught sight of something that filled him with fury.
At the spot where Vincent had just been ground to nothing, that head-biting-tail serpent illusion surfaced once more.
It was Ouroboros — recovered.
Even under the Tyrant's own lightning, he'd used "Cycle of Fate" once again.
As time reversed, Vincent's obliterated body rapidly reassembled itself from pulp, his life and soul flooding back, restored to normal within seconds.
"???"
Did we... just die?
Vincent turned his head and saw the silver serpent — now scorched and blistered, its flesh torn open under the lightning, turned to charcoal — its blood-red eyes betraying not the faintest trace of panic.
It kept doing everything it could to bless Vincent with good fortune, letting him weather strike after strike beneath that forest of lightning unscathed, while Ouroboros himself, by contrast, had simply given up resisting outright.
Whether he was doing this for Vincent's own sake, or simply following an order passed down from the True Creator, there was no way to know.
That... foolish serpent.
To be continued…
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