The two looked up to see a regiment of Sarkaz soldiers gathered just ahead. Jeanne's eyes instantly caught a face that felt startlingly familiar—a visage closely mirroring Theresa's own. This was none other than the legendary Regent of Kazdel himself: Theresis.
"Though we have long known of each other by reputation, I believe this is our very first face-to-face meeting," Theresis offered a composed, formal bow, executing the polite etiquette expected of high nobility despite the grim setting. "Allow me to introduce myself properly: I am Theresis, Regent of Kazdel."
He looked for all the world like a refined gentleman, yet the bloodthirsty Sarkaz legion arrayed behind him turned that civilized demeanor into a chilling threat.
The soldiers glared at the golden-haired maiden with unvarnished malice. Their eyes burned with a raw desire to tear her apart; it was Jeanne who had shattered their perfectly laid plans and turned what should have been a swift victory into a grinding, humiliating loss.
Any ordinary person surrounded by such terrifying, bloodthirsty warriors would have been frozen in absolute terror.
"Strictly speaking, you're the former Regent of Kazdel," Jeanne countered coolly. "Your rule was overthrown ages ago, leaving you and your followers as nothing more than a band of wandering mercenaries. Besides, we could have met much earlier—if you hadn't fled Kazdel with your tail between your legs."
Jeanne's sharp words instantly drew the wrath of every Sarkaz in the room. Glares sharp as daggers thrust toward her, as though hatred alone could pierce her through.
Talulah, standing beside her, didn't share Jeanne's relaxed composure. She knew the terrifying combat prowess of these veteran Sarkaz all too well. In a clash of this scale, she was easily the weakest link on their side.
"If this is merely a exchange of empty taunts, then I have no further reason to indulge in conversation," Theresis replied smoothly, extending an open hand toward them. "You know full well why I am here. Hand over the Sigh of Kings."
"In exchange, I shall grant the three of you safe passage today," Theresis continued, his gaze drifting toward the legendary blade resting in Talulah's arms. "Under these circumstances, I doubt you can fight at your full potential while protecting your companions."
To the Sarkaz, an ancient relic capable of severing Catastrophes was a prize worth studying at any cost.
Theresis and his conspirators had long known where the relic rested; with the key in their possession, they could have retrieved it whenever they pleased.
Yet a crucial problem had halted them: the Sigh of Kings could not be easily removed. It wasn't guarded by deadly traps, but bound by ancient magic that prevented unauthorized hands from carrying it out.
Now, an unprecedented opportunity had dropped straight into their laps. Theresis had brought his personal elite guard to ensure Jeanne would not slip through his fingers.
He had entered the hall brimming with complete confidence, but the moment he caught the calm, amused expression on Jeanne's face, his heart sank.
"That's a tempting offer. Most sensible people would take it in a heartbeat..." Jeanne shook her head slowly. "Too bad for you, I refuse. I have no intention of handing this blade over to you!"
The moment her refusal left her lips, Jeanne raised a hand and casually swatted a heavy crossbow bolt out of the air!
It was clear Theresis hadn't pinned all his hopes on mere words; contingency plans were already in motion.
Yet looking closely at the bolt, Jeanne noticed a flash of surprise in Theresis's eyes—he hadn't ordered that shot. The bolt bore distinct, heavy Victorian craftsmanship.
Those Victorian conspirators are trying to force a direct clash between us, Jeanne realized. They think the Sarkaz force is still too strong and want to use me to thin their ranks.
Theresis tightened his grip on his broadsword. He offered no explanation for the rogue bolt; in a moment like this, explanations were entirely pointless.
With a swift, fluid motion, he swung his blade, sending a crimson arc of sinister blood-Arts slicing straight toward Jeanne!
Jeanne raised her flagpole and casually deflected the dark red blade-wave to the side.
The deflected energy slammed into a nearby stone monument, shattering the ancient statue into pieces. A dense cloud of stone dust exploded into the cavern, filling the narrow space.
"Is that so? What a pity," Theresis sighed, putting on a faint show of regret. "If you perish here, my foolish sister's unrealistic ideals will crumble to dust in an instant. That Banshee wouldn't have a home to return to, either."
His tone was unreadable—neither purely taunt nor genuine pity—but his underlying intent was unmistakable. He had never abandoned his goal of shattering Theresa's vision.
The next second, the elite Sarkaz warriors surged forward with weapons drawn, eager to teach this Saintess of Laterano a lesson she would never forget.
In the rear, Sarkaz casters unleashed a swarm of destructive Arts that buzzed through the air like a plague of locusts, seeking to overwhelm Jeanne and Talulah in a barrage of dark magic.
Under the watchful eyes of the Sarkaz legion, Jeanne's form suddenly shifted. Her white robes and bright golden hair inverted into a dark, elegant attire accompanied by platinum locks.
If her normal form radiated holy warmth, her alter state exuded an unsettling, suffocating aura. Her entire presence flipped in the blink of an eye.
Yet these battle-hardened Sarkaz veterans were not easily shaken. Most had followed Theresis through decades of brutal warfare; a simple change of clothes wouldn't halt their advance.
Only Theresis felt a sudden prickle of unease. Why would she swap forms mid-combat unless something entirely beyond his calculations was about to happen?
An instant later, the unexpected arrived.
The stone floor beneath the charging Sarkaz vanguard bulged and cracked. Massive, terrifying Ground Dragons erupted from the earth, slamming their powerful forelegs into the front line!
Under the crushing weight of the beasts, several Sarkaz vanguard soldiers were turned into instant paste.
How does she summon these creatures?! Theresis stared in disbelief. Even with over two centuries of combat experience, he couldn't comprehend the mechanism behind her magic.
Yet there was no time to analyze it. His soldiers, no matter how brave, were no match for these monstrous beasts—a lesson learned through mountain-high piles of Sarkaz corpses back in Kazdel.
Only two people present possessed the sheer strength to harm these creatures. With the other currently occupied on another task, Theresis swung his broadsword without hesitation, carving a massive arc of blood-red Arts through the lead beast!
"ROAR—!"
The lesser dragon shrieked in agony as Theresis's blow dealt severe damage, leaving several others heavily wounded.
Seeing an opening, the Sarkaz casters redirected their spells straight at the beasts' exposed wounds, causing the Wyrm-Dragons to howl in pain.
Seeing them struggle, Jeanne summoned another wave of lesser dragons to hold the line, passing command of the beasts over to Talulah. As a Draco, Talulah possessed the innate ability to communicate with such creatures.
With the vanguard held at bay, Jeanne turned her attention to the main threat.
"To be completely honest, I really don't like you," Jeanne closed the distance toward Theresis in a blur, delivering a straightforward, devastating right hook straight to his chest. "I wouldn't mind killing you right here!"
BANG!
Theresis was launched backward into the air like a ragdoll. As his body sailed through the hall, Jeanne's voice echoed directly in his ears:
"I promised Theresa I'd spare your life and bring you back to Kazdel alive. So while you're currently in flight mode, you'd better start praying to the Sarkaz ancestors, your dead monarchs, or whatever lingering gods you believe in!"