Shiraha tumbled twice across the ground, then quickly arrested his momentum and scrambled to his feet. He glanced around instinctively, the situation was actually better than he'd expected. Chaos, yes, but at least no Honkai beasts had spawned, and Sirin's attacks had all been concentrated on Siegfried.
No major property damage so far.
He let out a slow breath. Looked like this prematurely awakened Sirin was in rough shape too. For someone who claimed to be the messenger of God, she hadn't even managed to summon a single one of God's apostles.
"You seem to have stirred up some serious trouble."
Elysia's expression was grave. She was already calculating the angle, preparing to strike from behind, one arrow to finish Sirin in an instant.
Shiraha shook his head. "I was too naive. How's the Talk-no-Jutsu supposed to work when I haven't even beaten them down yet?"
He reached out. The telekinetic power that had spent two years gradually coalescing into a complete Stigmata surged forth like an invisible giant hand, ready to deal Sirin a vicious blow.
"Hold still."
Elysia's voice cut in suddenly. Shiraha stopped and right then, Ragnar, who had just arrived, pressed a hand firmly onto his shoulder.
Ragnar waved toward the rear. "There's still a child here! Send another squad member over for evacuation, get him out of here too!"
"Captain~"
Someone drawled the word out reluctantly, their tone carrying a clear note of this isn't our problem indifference.
"Obey orders!" Ragnar's voice dropped, hard as iron.
The Valkyries were never a monolith. Some were cold-blooded cleaners. Others, like Ragnar, were the reliable seniors who never lost their humility. And one of the strangest truths of this world was that the truly powerful often seemed the most humble, they always carried a certain respect for the unknown.
The Valkyrie under her command, who looked every bit one of those cleaners, bristled with displeasure, but she still grabbed Shiraha with one hand, fully intending to toss him onto the evacuation vehicle.
"Nee chan."
The Valkyrie hauling him paused. "You talking to me, brat?"
Shiraha wasn't speaking to her. He went on, as if to himself: "I told you. This world can't do without me."
Elysia sighed. The light in her starry eyes dimmed for a moment then flared bright again. "Hurry up and grow, little Shiraha."
Shiraha looked up at the Valkyrie holding him and offered her a clean, innocent smile. And then
Thud!
No, her head didn't explode. He'd simply put her to sleep. The method was maybe a little rough, she'd probably be spending the next week or two in a hospital bed.
Formless, imageless telekinesis. Hard to control the force precisely. Shiraha was, well, still young, after all.
"Interesting~"
Before Shiraha could resume his search for Sirin's whereabouts, a pale little hand had already seized him by the arm and pulled him close, shielding him at the front.
"You seem important, little one."
Sirin's voice came from behind him. A trickle of blood seeped from the corner of her lips.
Siegfried's been a wreck for a whole year, how the hell is he still this strong?! And this frail body, every alarm is going off, it can't take much more. Useless Siegfried! she cursed inwardly.
"Let him go, Sirin. You should be able to sense it, he's not a bad person."
Siegfried arrived, blood streaming down his upper body, his expression grim.
A year of decay, yes but the body still remembered. He could still fight.
Ragnar gripped her greatsword and exchanged a glance with Siegfried. Two veterans of the old Valkyrie guard silently arrived at the same conclusion: deal with the Herrscher first. Everything else could wait.
Sirin looked at Siegfried, then at Ragnar, who also radiated a palpable danger, then sensed the First Herrscher, the traitor, closing in fast.
She drew a deep breath. The thick, metallic scent of blood mingled with the freezing air.
"We'll meet again."
"Damn it!"
Siegfried didn't have the luxury of worrying about collateral damage anymore. The Shamash flared from its sheath, crimson light erupting from the blade. Searing heat vaporized everything in its path.
But against the Herrscher of the Void, too slow.
.....
Somewhere in Siberia.
Sirin lay slumped on the ground, coughing up blood in small, wet spurts. Each droplet bored tiny pits into the snow. Her arm had been scorched by the heat, she gritted her teeth and drove it deep into a snowbank to cool it down fast.
Nearby, Shiraha and Elysia exchanged a glance. Elysia was the first to sigh, the tension slowly draining from her expression.
"Seems like my efforts in the previous era weren't entirely in vain after all."
Otherwise, Sirin wouldn't have shielded Shiraha at the very last moment.
"Go get water!"
Sirin lifted her head and gave the order, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Shiraha didn't obey. A half-crippled Herrscher of the Void was, after all, just meat on the chopping block.
"Go get water. You have that strange ability, you can fetch it."
Sirin turned her head and repeated herself, her expression fierce.
Unfortunately, a brat in a kid's body wasn't about to intimidate Shiraha.
Sirin's emergence in 2010 had been enough to crush the assault squad and a three-years-broken Siegfried. But Sirin in 2008? She could barely handle a Siegfried who hadn't completely fallen apart yet.
"Do you have any idea how much property you destroyed?"
"Get the water!"
Sirin's voice was practically a shriek now. The searing pain wracking her body had torn what little remained of her composure to shreds.
Shiraha walked up beside her. Faint golden ripples began to shimmer across the sky. The Lance of the Void slowly emerged from within them. Sirin's glare was murderous.
"You created hell."
Shiraha's voice was quiet.
"Enough." Sirin snarled. "This world is hell!"
The Lance of the Void fully emerged and slammed into the ground, missing Shiraha by a deliberate half-meter.
Elysia thought Shiraha was about to launch into the Talk-no-Jutsu. By all narrative logic, this was the moment the protagonist started preaching about ideals, about love and justice, about winning hearts with compassion.
In truth, Sirin had thought the same thing. This brat had clearly lived a pretty happy life sheltered enough to be disgustingly naive.
She clung to that thought, forcing her emotions to settle. Until...
Slap!
An extraordinarily loud slap, made all the more conspicuous by the empty, frozen tundra around them.
Sirin's head hung crooked from the blow, stiff. Her neck moved like a rusted gear as she cranked it back around.
"Heh. Heheh!" A sudden, rasping laugh of release escaped her. "Looks like you've really spent too long in a greenhouse."
The imaginary ripples spread open again. This time, they didn't miss. Sirin's expression was calm. "What a hassle. Now I have to fetch water and take care of you instead…"
A phrase suddenly flashed through Shiraha's mind: When a punch comes at you, never dodge backward, dodge forward. Press forward.
Under Elysia's utterly expressionless gaze, little Shiraha dropped his stance slightly, coiling like a drawn bow, then exploded forward, slipping past the Lance of the Void. In the next instant, a left hook smashed squarely into Sirin's face.
Thud!
Elysia hadn't seen this level of combat prowess in years. In the Previous Era, everyone fought clean and efficient, how was this Herrscher so bad at this? It almost looked like Shiraha was bullying a little kid.
"I'll be the one taking care of you." Shiraha pulled his fist back and flexed his reddened knuckles. "Your actions caused enormous panic for everyone. You should apologize."
His expression was perfectly calm as he watched Sirin stumble backward and collapse. Then he extended his hand, ready to pull her up.
"Ha… hahaha!"
Sirin clutched her face, her tongue probing the inside of her mouth. The wound that had just begun to heal filled with the faint taste of blood again.
The messenger of God, wounded by a traitor, wounded by Siegfried, that thief who stole God's power, that was already humiliating enough. She had never imagined she'd take a slap and a punch from this brat too.
"Apologize." Her voice seeped through her fingers, carrying a calm so tightly suppressed it was terrifying. "On what grounds? What gives you the right to stand up there and look down on me?"
"You don't know anything about what I've been through!"