The permeating scent of metallic ashes overcame his senses.

Never had he felt so blood-thirsty in his whole existence.

The life-giving fluid was viscous in his fingers, flowing and staining. The fire flickered all around, giving him that eerie glow which made every soul whom he settled his eyes on burst into scorching flames. The nauseating scent that floated mixed along with the rubber-like taste of burnt flesh and melting cement. Screams and shrieks, and swift running footsteps echoed all over, calling him a monster, a heartless creature.

He never had that essential, supporting organ all along. Because if he had, then he would have long ago been hurt. And if he had felt that pounding on his chest, then he would not have considered this path long ago.

Pieces of the ceiling fell upon his horizon, with each beams dangling and emitting a blinding, dark smoke. Beneath his feet, the foundation crumbled slowly at each second the rock loosened. The shadows loomed over the gigantic, colored faces plastered on the walls—defiant faces of people garbed in majestic fabrics, crowned with a single golden ring and carrying crosses on their hands.

But what amused him the most was a kingly, robed child carrying the world in one hand, and the other, outstretched—with two fingers flashing a sign of peace in this cursed humanity.

Peace? All these worthless beings do was satisfy their greed and hunger for flesh. Die in the most animalistic way.

He was about to destroy that incriminating statue with that serene façade when a little girl came into his view, with a bottle of holy water in her grasp, and a glass-beaded patterned rosary on her bosom. Her short silvery locks were slightly burnt—ashes of the same color on his calloused hands marring her ethereal face.

"Come any closer, Destroyer," She began, eyes scrunched in obvious anger, "…and I will make you suffer."

And in those moments, this young child, possessing orbs in the same hue as that accursed red water, stared at him.

"Are you afraid of me?"

"How dare you do this to the house of God?" She whispered. "…Murderer."

They were hard rubies, glinting, accusing…

…Yet so entrancing.

"Yes. I am." He agreed. "Such nonsense is a waste of time, child."

"I have my beliefs, kind sir." Her voice was unnaturally firm.

Disturbing.

"…And, I believe that you have no conscience."

He laughed, laughed emptily. Such an understatement for a precocious child to point out. "Tell me, little girl," he snickered, finding everything--the blood, the life, the child—hilarious, "do you believe that YOU…"

Her eyes still remained, unwavering.

"…can defeat me?"

And a blue-emitting aura flared around her, turning the primal dance of flames into sputtering flickers. The world slowly stopped and her gaze turned into ice. Icicles seemed to form around her, even though it only seemed to be his active imagination. For such a lithe form, a huge amount of power and authority seemed to surround her.

"Yes."

Confident little girl.

"It will take a lot more years for you to do that, child." And he waved a non-committal hand. "Stain yourself with blood first."

He thought that such an innocent, fragile little thing will be frightened with that clairvoyant prediction of her path. He thought that she would cower and not face that demanding requirement in defeating him.

"Indeed." She said instead. "…Since that is the only way to save you."

Faith
by Miko-chan
beta-read by Apple-chan
Standard Disclaimers Apply.

Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay. Here is second chapter installment dedicated to da-mouse and Mendori-chan. I knew that this fic would be longer than I originally planned. Enjoy!

The gentle rays of the sun penetrated beneath her closed lids. Somehow, the hard mattress under her back added to her discomfort, generating the need to stretch out her stiff joints. Groaning slightly from the languid haze that were filling up her senses, the nun tried to assess her surroundings. The air was warm, with the wind slightly wheezing just above her nostrils—one of those drenching summers that had that little amount of humidity you can breathe on.

A dream…

Rather, a nightmare…

It was another morning in her ordinary vocational life, but it seems to be odd that none of her companions woke her for the morning prayers.

There was nothing peculiar to start off with. That strange kihei that she felt hovering over her was—
Masaka.

Abruptly, she stood up as if to dispel that ridiculous notion that the nightmare that she had met with last night was a mere illusion, a trick of her eye…

"ITAI!"

"AH!"

The jerking movement collided both of their heads intensely, creating huge bump marks upon their foreheads.

"…Great going for a morning, huh?"

She froze from rubbing her forehead. "You..." She stared at him. "How did you get in here?"

"Well, it was easy, you know?" He gave her a convincing smile that radiated innocence. "I followed those white companions of yours when they were checking your condition earlier this morning." He sat rather hastily beside her. "Besides, I would like to have a look to the one who had 'saved' me last night. "

"I did NOT save you. " She retorted. Never in her life would she admit that he owed something resembling a favor to her. Any kind of connection to him is prohibited.

"Maaa, maa…" he shrugged off her statement, as if half-believing her words. "If that is what you say, but…I heard all that you have said and thought last night."

She became rigid. "You were awake?"

"Of course I was." He flashed a sinister-like grin.

"Why were you wounded anyway?" She asked again, preventing any more opportunity for him to make her more flustered than her current demeanor. It was impossible that the one who was expected to be sanctioned as the Shaman King would be extremely wounded, except in one case—and that would have taken a lot of effort. Unless…

"I did not expect to have to explain this to you. " He gave something like a snort. "…But, in order to raise my furyoku, I—"

"You wounded yourself in a near-death experience." She finished in a soft voice. That was what she had done in the past, in order to increase her own furyoku ten-fold, using the piercing thorns of her iron chamber. "What for?"

"That," a deceiving smile made way to his tanned face, "…is none of your business."

Her crimson orbs narrowed in annoyance, not minding the fact that she was wearing a particularly thin garment inside a secluded tent. It was like that in that shift of congeniality to a moment where you are treading perilous grounds.

"Jeanne-NEECHAAAN!" came a terrified squeal as footsteps rampaged towards her tent. The little girl did not even give a second glance to her unwelcome 'visitor', sweeping her small feet, and nearly colliding with the smirking ragged young man.

"Gomen nasai! Gomen nasai! Gomen nasai! Gomen nasai!" She jumped to Jeanne's lap and hugged her tightly on the waist, as if obviously afraid that any minute, she will disappear. "The elders told me that...that...I should not have led you to danger."

"Shh." Jeanne admonished gently, patting the curly mass of hair lovingly. "Did they find your father...?"

"Yes, yes, yes, Jeanne-neechan!" And the nun gave a long-held sigh of relief, knowing that it was really excoriating when one of your charges are grieving or currently undergoing something...

But as soon as the young girl had settled her eyes upon the youthful stranger leaning upon the pillar of Jeanne's tent, her black orbs grew wide and round. She jumped up and bowed rigidly at him. "Gomen nasai! " She blurted out quickly before running hastily outside.

Opacho…

It was odd, but the kid looked alike with his faithful follower back then. The only difference was that the present midget had darker chestnut hair. But the watery orbs were the same...

"What's with that smile?" The young nun raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

"What's wrong with smiling?" The young shaman asked in false naivety.

"It gives me the impression that you are up to something." She gave him an eye of mistrust.

"Really, Jeanne-neechan. You hurt me with such words."

"I am quite happy that I did." She huffily said as she rose from her position.

"But, you are right..." His grin became wider. "I am up to something."

"I know you quite well." She shook her head in disbelief.

"…But not that well, Jeanne-san." He stood up abruptly from his lounging position, his face shadowed with something that she could not decipher. It was like the gloom of that cave. "Shall we go? I have a feeling that you have to start your work right now."

"Who told you that you are going with me?" She muttered, glaring at him from her bed. "Get out before I force you."

"And why should I?"

"I have to get dressed, please."

"Don't you think I should rather stay?" He winked.

Something flashed behind those scarlet orbs and there came a sudden increase of ki. And one Asakura Hao, with all the wisdom that he developed in his past lives, knew that whenever such killing intent was displayed, it meant partial disembowelment. So, with a wary gaze at the graceful yet enflaming maiden, he quietly trod outside.

But not without opening his damn mouth once more.

"It's not everyday that I will see a nak—"

A flying vase, a rumpled cot, and elevated books were seen thrown out to finally make him retreat outside.

Once everything came to a unsettled silence, (and a suspicious glance at every side) the nun was now wishing that she never, ever let her feminine curiosity (more of meddling) get to her. She had her previous childhood to serve as experience.

As soon as she finished changing inside her tent, the silver-haired nun went out, with her hands lifting some books and materials for her daily teaching. But then, almost all of the towering books came falling to the ground as soon as she saw that fire-wielding mage sitting upon the wilting cypress tree just beside her tent. His head was supported by his hands, which were overly strapped with metal, as he idly sat by, watching the clouds until she emerged.

"What the...?" She muttered. "I thought I SAID..."

"Don't be so flustered." The grin he was giving was really unnerving. "I did not peek, I promise."

Flushing with mixed anger and embarrassment, the young woman bent to pick up the fallen books. With her back to him and knees bent, she continued hopefully. "Can't you just return to whatever hole you came from?"

"I just thought you wanted help." The masculine voice was now somewhere in her proximity, meaning that the infuriating Asakura was now beside her as well. The sound of books being piled up was now heard, indicating that he was, in fact, helping her. "One cannot carry too many books at once." He chuckled. "Everyone knows that, Jeanne-neechan."

"I prefer that you not call me in such a disrespectful manner, Asakura-san." Abruptly, she stood. Snatching the books that he just stacked, she again wobbled slightly from the weight.

A raise of his eyebrow. "You call me," a smirk made way to his lips, "...Asakura-san?"

Better that than to address you with more colorful, sinful and delightful names. "Asakura-san, could you please just stop getting on my nerves?" She hissed, turning her head sharply in his direction. "Go away."

"Is this the thanks I deserve?" He laughed, mirth laced with amusement. "Can't I help you with your duties for the mean time…?"

"No." Her voice now carried death, which did not faze him even one bit. "If you want to do something productive, then leave me."

And to the former Iron Maiden's surprise, the onmyouji finally gave a resigned sigh. "You still think I'm a nuisance, don't you?"

And indeed, the smile he held before he departed was meaningful in many ways than one. "…Then, I think I will have to arrange something."

The sky was marked with those white, soft streaks against the clear azure background yet even though it was too tempting to stay in one place because of the heat, as soon as the nun finally arrived at the makeshift classroom in the outdoors, the small crowd of midgets again flocked on her.

"Is it true, neechan?"

"Yeah, you've found that bloody ghost and brought him here?"

"They said that he could not be killed and he was just talking with that old chief now!"

A lustrous eyebrow went up on the edge of her veil. So he was not merely staying near the mountains for a short while then. Judging the way that the children were hearing the stories of terror and nightmares, it seemed he had been haunting these mountains for a long time. But it seemed he had not descended from it for a very long time, as the elders from this village did not seem disturbed by his presence and that disgusting scent that followed him.

Then she finally wondered, when did she washed the scent of blood away from her hands?

"Children, please." She tried to pacify the whole rambunctious children who continued to speak at once. "We need to start our lessons." When those small faces suddenly pouted and gave a disdained frown, she exhaustedly added, "I will give you the details as to what happened, if we finish early."

"Really?"

"Yes. So we better start now."

Hours passed, and the heat of the afternoon sun continued to shine throughout the horizon. The heat was radiating and she can feel the outpouring of sweat on her forehead. The restlessness of the children was understandable, as they shifted from their cross-legged seats and seem to be not intently reading the text.

Nevertheless, the lesson must go on, hot weather or not.

"Four plus five is?"

"NINE!"

"Six plus two?"

"EIGHT!"

The chorus of the little ones were deafening, enough for the whole wide world to hear. And for her, this was more too effective than to distract her thoughts about the possibilities and assumptions on her head. Questions began flickering on her mind: why was that same murderous man here? And why was he increasing his furyoku when the Shaman fight was already long over?

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted as one of her fellow nuns signaled her to take cover. With a apologetic glance at her students, Jeanne made her way to one of her white-veiled companions.

"Yes, Sister Maria?"

"Mother Superior calls for you. She is terribly distressed with you."

Ah. How can she forget? Acting on her own and crossing out of these territories without any permission can attract anyone's attention, lest from her supervisor. If this meant being given a long winded lecture, then she would rather take that instead of standing in the middle of the sweltering sun. At least, under the shade of the tent, with an obviously displeased cranky old nun lecturing her would lessen any chances of meeting him again.

She entered the room, which was illuminated with the large cracked windows, in a careful manner. There was the collective number of dust floating, alighted by that lazy sunlight that nearly filled the gloomy surrounding. The one she was reporting to was sheaving papers on her desk, slightly disturbed and a grim line on her wrinkled face.

It was better to get things over with faster.

"Why did you call for me, Mother?"

The inclined head slowly looked up from her work and found her emerging from the entrance. With a motion for the young apprentice to come over, she followed and stood with nervous hands trying hard to stop fiddling in front of her. To overcome her uneasiness, she struggled for a small, thin smile.

"I am quite astonished with your actions last night, young woman." The elderly nun shifted on her seat, rising from her creaky wooden chair and walking to the other side of her desk in order to sternly scold one of the students she supposedly trusted the most. "I specifically did not give any instructions to go out during the night, as you know the dangers in these areas."

Shamefully, the silver head was bowed, eyes refusing to meet that discerning stare.

"Nevertheless," the weak, pliant voice continued. "It is fortunate that the young man whom you saved last night was conscious and brought you to those people searching for you." Another one of those relieved inhalations. "Thank God. I was so worried that I think I might have died earlier than I expected."

"I am sorry, Mother Superior." Her young voice held remorse.

With a disapproving click of her tongue, the elder shook her head dejectedly. "You should have known better, dear. But I am not truly disappointed with you." And a matronly smile now crept up to that aged face. "I am really proud to have you as my student, saving one of the most respected men in this area."

What…?

"You did not know, did you?" A creaking laugh. " Oh dear, he is supposed to be one of those whom they consult to."

She raised her head in surprise, finally understanding what had transpired in the village earlier. That explains the sudden interest of people in her while she walked along the dilapidated streets in these premises. They seem to be more respectful of her recently, and avoided meeting her eyes in their most exerted effort. In this case, they seem to know that the treacherous young lad was a force to reckon with. The folk in this village were superstitious and known to be more in tune with terms that are of mystical and spiritual themes. And if he did exerted such fearful hallucinations among them…

Her mind forcefully closed shut. She promised not to interfere with such things ever again.

"Better yet, I think you would want to meet him."

A swing of the creaky door, a flash of those onyx orbs and the whip of a tattered cloak was all she needed to realize who he was.

As soon as he entered the room, the whole atmosphere turned into something rigid. There was a sudden change in demeanor, the way her eyes became electrifying rubies, her lips set in a grim line as the young man who entered the icy area paced cautiously.

"I did not expect," the young shaman looked at her disdainfully, "…to meet her here, Mother."

Liar. Her mind responded swiftly.

"I think this is a coincidence." The youngest person said instead, refusing to budge away from her position. "Asakura-san."

The eldest among them suddenly went in between them, and held the hands of the blinking gorgeous young man. "Ah, I do think that your name is Asakura--?"

"Asakura Hao, Mademoiselle." He was slightly disturbed of the fluttering, wrinkled eyelids.

But the ruby orbs were now fully glaring at him behind her Instructor, which entertained him even more. If he dealt with this situation carefully, methodically, then he will escape this mess without any scratch and with his dignity intact.

"But I do think Jeanne-san here," he spoke, hoping to snap this poor old woman out of her reverie, "…is uncomfortable with me."

Creased hands twitched in his sudden husky voice as she remembered the purpose of his visit. Weak eyes gave them both a scrutinizing gaze as she realized that neither of them were making any effort to move towards each other. Perhaps the sun was too bright. It was probably the reason why she never noted this sooner.

"Do you two know each other?" The elderly nun, with her spectacles glinting against the bright sunlight, gazed at them both.

"Yes." Both replied with such stiffness.

"…Well." The nun then scrutinized one of her protégé with such a disapproving look. "I am surprised at you. I expected you to show courtesy towards old friends."

Friends? He nearly choked with laughter at the idea.

"Please accept my apologies, kind sir." The younger acolyte said lightly. The smile on her lips did not fool him, but she did appease her instructor. Her scarlet eyes revealed more than the polite words used.

"The people give their utmost respect to this gentleman." The older nun gradually circled around him, observing. "We, too, have to get along with him..." The Mother superior gave a smile that can unnerve the most aloof shaman in the world. He sensed that the elder nun fancied him. (Being an empathy, he would.) "...in order to have a lasting relationship with them."

He raised an amused eyebrow at the rigid young apprentice.

"I have things to do for the meantime." There was a final note in her voice as she gave them a gesture of dismissal. "Entertain him for a while, won't you dear?"

A curt nod.

"I shall be going now, Asakura-san."

"Good day!" He gave courteous bow.

And the very kind nun went off.

A tentative silence hovered between the two. He was smirking, and she was scowling.

"Your Mother Superior..." He said in a calm, even voice.

Her glare was throwing the nastiest daggers that a decent woman can give.

"…was flirting with me."

It was evident that he had been holding it aaaall up...

The younger acolyte felt a strange urge to bash this moron with something.

"Asakura Hao, I wanted to ask you something."

Breathe, before you hyperventilate and finally break your vow of not murdering anyone again.

"Yes?"

She calculated every graceful move, every elegant stance as she stood from her seat and equally looked him in the eye.

"What in Heaven's name do you want?"

"Would you really want to know?"

"Would I be asking if I don't?" Grating. Nerve-wracking as ever.

"I am interested," he said as he finally stepped out the door, "…in you."

And for her, this was more troubling than he was setting out to destroy the human race.

During the next week, where she received an unusual hushed expression from the villagers during her approach, she was really relieved when the Mother Superior thought to send her to the nearby village on the other side of the mountain to gather some medical supplies.

"Of course, Mother." She gave a pleasant smile, hoping that nothing will go wrong on the trip. "When do I leave?" As soon as she said the phrase, she instinctively rose from her seat, thinking of pleasant hours that she won't be meeting that obnoxious shaman.

"Unfortunately, the coach driver is sick." The wrinkled face and the glinting glasses sighed.

"…Oh." And the acolyte thought of how tiring it might be to walk along that distance. Her thoughts wandered back to that night when she had to go through those wild myriad of dark greens and jagged boulders. However, she had a feeling that she would not going alone this time due to her recent incident with this same towering mass of land.

Just as long as...

"But that friend of yours said that he will be more than willing to help."

The next thing she knew, there was that all-too familiar deceiving smirk that curtsied in front of her and mockingly gave a wink.

"I'll be your pleasant escort for the trip, Jeanne-san."

"Mother," she tried—yes, she really, truly tried—to mask her ferocious expression to avoid threatening her senior. "I want to go ALONE."

"Are you insane, my dear?" The nun held her glasses, a sign of displeasure, and glinted them against the sunlight.

I think I will be, the former enemy of the male shaman thought, if I stayed with that annoying male even for a mere hour.

"Do not worry, Mademoiselle." That annoying onmyouji now turned his attention to the awe-stricken woman. "I am sure that Jeanne-san will be safe in my hands."

"Oh my, how gallant." Jeanne's ever-observant young eyes caught clearly how her elder superior shivered at the stare that blindly hypnotized every possible follower of his. The elder nun gave her most charming smile (and for Jeanne, it was just too much to bear). "I trust you with all of my life, you know that very well, Asakura-san!"

Jeanne nearly wished to lose her composure and walk out from this insipid conversation when he finally perceived that treacherous flicker of her ki.

"I think we should be leaving right about tomorrow?" He offered with a suave voice, secretly finding an escape route just in case the usually composed maiden finally cracked. "After all, usually it's a sickness that outbreaks in this region ever once and a while."

"Yes, I do think that we have something to talk about, Asakura-san." A voice, so sweet and poisoned in the same time, was directed at him. "I hope you excuse us this time, Mother Superior?"

"Very well, Jeanne." The elderly smiled. "Be careful."

The minute that came out of the older nun's mouth, the younger one stormed off and left behind the smirking young man who casually followed her as she fumed.

"My, my. She does not usually look this upset."

A soft chuckle escaped from his lips as he closed the door.

"Why are you avoiding me?"

That was the first question that she had heard from him inside her tent that night.

"What do you mean, 'why I am avoiding you'?" She said non-chantilly as she settled the schoolbooks in a corner. She had accepted teaching a few catechism classes or some academic lessons to the children.

"You know..." he said mildly, sitting by the little round chair upon her makeshift desk as he turned to her with expectant eyes. "Whenever you behold upon my ever-majestic presence, you go away. Pretend I don't exist."

She chose not to respond to that. Instead she rolled her eyes with annoyance, opting to gather a match and add light along with the soft touch of the lustrous moonlight.

But knowing that he will continue to pester and persist until he got the answer he wanted, she finally gave up and chose the most appropriate reply. She was tired of playing and walking in circles around him.

"Trouble." The glare that she gave him promised death. "You cause nothing but trouble…"

"So, you avoid me to avoid that…" Amused, he settled himself on her bunk bed with a mischievous smile on his face. "Hmmm, but trouble really is attracted to you." He replied casually as he raised his palm to his chin.

"I am glad that I do not need to trouble myself with mutilation for you to understand that statement." She sarcastically rolled her eyes in obvious annoyance again.

"But I have not done anything wrong..." He gave a pout.

"Not yet." She said equivocally as she kneeled in front of her altar. "Would you please choose someone else to bother? I need to have peace."

"Maybe later." He shifted comfortably into his seat.

"I need solitude," she lighted another single candle in front of the blessed statue with reverence, "…whenever I am praying." Then, she made the sign of the cross gradually and gathered the crystal beads to her candle-like fingers. "So please, leave me."

"A powerful being like you, praying to such an inanimate object." He scoffed, tossing his hair over his broad shoulders and observing the serene expression that suddenly overwhelmed the young lady's face as she turned to him. Her face showed that she was contemplating on whether to argue with him or not.

"I am not praying to a mere statue." She calmly said. "I am praying to God."

"And how does that help you?"

A uncomfortable silence, one that usually comes in between them whenever they reach awkward moments and have a silent battle of wills. They knew that one mistake in their step would be fatal, and would cause one or the other to suffer an untimely defeat.

"Unlike you," The Maiden drew a sharp intake of breath, and her fingers grasped tightly on the glass beads that were in between her fingers. "I have my beliefs."

And he stood up, his respiration flaring, his swirling coal eyes burning, as if greatly affected by her cold statement. "Beliefs are what makes you foolish, woman."

"Foolish?" She continued, without any iota of tremble in her bone. "Look at you." And then, her silvery head turned to him, those tattered robes and usually kept elongated mahogany tresses ragged and awry. "You are an image of a wrecked human being."

"I am not human!" He hissed. "What makes you say that when I can extinguish your pathetic life right now?"

Impassively, the nun turned her attention back to the flickering candle flames in front of the porcelain statue. His threatening steps reverberated in the night, coming closer, hand outstretched to strangle that small, peach neck...to kill that lithe, small form…

…to know why.

Why.

And as Jeanne closed her eyes, a slight draft of wind and a fluttering cloak extinguished the flames, drowning her in darkness and slight murmurings of prayer.

Have I totally forgotten—forgiven—all the sins that he made? She thought helplessly as she continued to pray upon the face of the statue of Mary on her low table. The silent gleam of the candle flickered more violently with each passing notion. A small bead of sweat broke off as her sentiments became heavier than before.

How could I? She had forgotten in just a few moments time...forgotten that she was still the Holy Maiden and he was the Evil that to be eliminated.

But trouble really IS attracted to you…

But what disturbed her again is why…

…Why does she keep thinking of that?

Morning came again…and there he was, amidst the thistles and blinding winds.

There was something discomfiting on the way he greeted her good morning. Neither did she look so guarded with herself after their encounter last night.

As soon as she had gathered a few number of things and uttered a small prayer before departing, both of them walked along the deserted street in a tense manner.

But all of these pretenses were thrown to the lukewarm breeze when she saw the chosen transportation.

He might be, for whatever reason, her escort, but it never meant that she would allow him to do whatever he wanted.

"I am NOT riding!"

"No one will see."

"But with THAT?"

"It takes less time."

"No." She vehemently protested. "I will NOT!"

"Just consider the time it would take." He continued, with that wheedling voice soft and convincing. "It will not try to burn you this time."

"You, Asakura Hao, are a lame excuse for a gentleman." She gritted her teeth.

The early rays of dawn were streaking the dark horizons, with the moon slightly fading from its background. But what made Jeanne felt that she was having another one of her head-wrecking mornings was when this young man persisted to ride his gigantic, towering Oversoul (who nearly burned her into such death-defying degrees, she may add.) in order to reach the next village.

"I prefer to face the mountains and snakes," her hand gripped tightly on the clean, cream shawl that was draped around her shoulders, "…than to ride THAT." Her finger pointed at the glowing Spirit that was seemingly bored from this hushed argument.

"You are being unreasonable."

"My reasoning will disappear," she murmured, "…if I agreed to go with you."

And with that statement, the mule-headed woman briskly paced around him. However, he was not seemingly considerate with her actions right now. With a dispassionate stare, he spoke.

"What are you afraid of, Jeanne-san?"

Halting from her tracks, she turned around and answered him with a puncturing glare.

"Afraid of me?" He continued, laughing and widening his arms as if to emphasize his statement. "These people whom I actually associate with," and with a sweep of his hand, he indicated the sleepy, drowsy village that were under the spell of the candlelight, "...may look that they respect me…"

And then, his face curled into a sneer.

"…But I can hear their thoughts…"

His voice dropped low into a malicious whisper.

"…This abundant mass of blood and flesh fears me."

A part of her was reminded why she considered him to be a lunatic.

"…Crazy, you say?" Now, his face deftly changed into a genial smile.

Her eyes betrayed the horror and astonishment that had been long kept.

"Are you not feared too?" And she turned around and walked away, not daring to look behind.

Keep walking. Her feet began to tremble against the crumbling soil, particles of dust sweeping around her feet like clouds. Keep walking.

"You used to want power, Jeanne-san..."

The scent of blood was coming back to her senses. A path she long abandoned.

"…To change something that you believe is right."

That soft voice, so resonant that it made her insides wrench.

"A power that corrupts and twists one's mind…"

Silence was always the best answer for him.

"…Like me."

Even though she knew that he was talking more to himself…

She could not help but retreat and let him win.