[[NERO]]


"Stupid!" A punch, splattering demon bile against the once pristine pavement of Fortuna's cobbled street.

"Annoying!" Another punch, this time launching the Scarecrow at some of its cronies and knocking them all down.

"DEMONS!"

This time Nero grabs the Scarecrow blade by its base, before violently wrenching it out of the demon's arm socket and relieving the demon of it's only offensive weapon. The white-haired Knight licks his teeth with a vicious grin, pointing his shoddy makeshift blade at the crowd of demons that has spawned within the center of Fortuna's residential district. "You lot would be begging for mercy once I'm done with you."

The only reply he gets is malicious giggling, noises imitated from the poor children lost to these filth of the earth. Nero scoffs, before diving back into the fray with a violent snarl.

It was lucky for Nero that the residential district is practically empty today, not a single human soul to be found in the streets. After all, everyone - and Nero quite literally does mean everyone - will be headed first to the opera house just north of the residential district, and after that a short pilgrimage to Fortuna Castle will be held. After all, today is the Festival of the Blade; a major event for the citizens of Fortuna, as this day is celebrated to be the anniversary of the island's freedom gifted by the Savior, the Dark Knight Sparda. Usually Nero isn't one for big events, even if the Order leads the proceedings - it's not like he's really the most devout Knight amongst their ranks, really - but this year-

This year, Kyrie - sweet, beautiful Kyrie - is chosen as the songstress, and like hell is Nero going to miss that.

However, these damned demons have chosen the worse day to cross Nero's path, and so he unleashes all of his frustrations on them. It's a pity he hasn't brought Red Queen, his darling; she would've made the crispiest barbeque out of these filth with just a swing. But alas, Nero made the mistake of leaving her behind in his home with the Eleisons, dismantled and secure in her protective case. Blue Rose is on him, true, but considering he's in the city's residential district...

Yeah, no can do. Credo is already on his ass for using a gun; Nero can't have the older man hounding him for using it in public as well, lack of human presence at the moment notwithstanding. There's another weapon hidden up Nero sleeve, quite literally, but-

No.

So here Nero is, hacking and slashing a horde of Scarecrows with all the finesse of a madman. This blade is disgustingly clunky and unbalanced, and the swordsman within Nero - the one raised with rigid forms, precise formations, and cutting discipline - howls at the absolute travesty of wielding such weapon. Can't even bring himself to call it a sword, much less a proper one. But nonetheless, Nero's hands are metaphorically (and semi-literally) tied, and so he could only take out this horde with this ugly-ass Scarecrow blade. At least it gets the job done, sloppy as it is.

Finally - finally! - Nero is done with the horde, and he books it out of there with a controlled burst of speed. He's lost precious time because of those demons - which, their presence in the residential district something that's worrying in itself as well - and he's promised Kyrie he'd watch her sing. Savior smite him or whatever if he fails to uphold that promise. And if it's not the Savior who'll beat his ass black and blue, he can probably count on Novena or Credo to do it.

Nero makes it to the opera house with a bit of time to spare; there's several more verses before Kyrie's solo ends, and so Nero straightened himself as much as he could - it didn't really amount to much but hey! There's been an attempt! - before entering through one of the side doors.

Fellow Knights take notice of him, and Nero ignores their hesitant nods in favor of giving them a verbal report.

"Demon horde was found and eliminated within the north-central part of the residential district. Scarecrows, a whole lot of them. Better send in some guys to exterminate them and find the source before it gets out of hand." Hey, just because Nero isn't well liked amongst the Order doesn't mean he's an incompetent one. Besides, he'd be an idiot if he doesn't give a heads up, and being an idiot is something Nero very much dislikes. "Might wanna send in at least three squads, to sweep the entire block. Don't like how those demons popped out of nowhere."

The Knights stationed at the door Nero came through exchange looks, worry and alarm on their faces, and the one of the right, Red - Nero doesn't know anyone beyond Credo and Novena, alright? - gives them a terse nod. "I'll pass the message to General Credo and the others. Thank you for the notice, Knight Nero."

"Yeah, yeah, just make sure you guys hop to it." Nero, his report delivered, makes his way to one of the available seats, slipping through the crowd to finally park his ass down. The hooded old guy beside him shoots him a dirty look, probably judging Nero for his white hair and loud clothes, and Nero only glares back, resisting the urge to bare his teeth at the man. He's not an animal, no matter how much Novena teases about being a puppy.

(Excuse her, he's a goddamn wolf; a full grown one, vicious and intimidating. He's not some... pocket-sized fluff ball.)

Nero looks up at the stage just in time to catch Kyrie's eyes, and he offers her a small smile, affection and warmth filling up his chest when she beams at him, positively radiant in her beauty and captivating in her joy. And she's happy to see him. See Nero.

Nero tries to tamp down the urge to grin like a loon. He really is. He can see Credo eyeing him from where the Supreme General is standing at attention, and while Credo approves of Nero courting Kyrie, Nero really wouldn't... Piss off the older brother. Nero is the genius amongst the Knights, sure, but Credo almost has a couple decades of experience on him, and he can still wipe the floor with Nero with contemptuous ease. There's a reason the man is the Supreme General, and the one predicted to inherit the title of Vicar of Sparda once Credo retires from active duty.

But Nero digresses.

Carefully, reverently, he fishes out the bright blue box within the inner pocket of his coat, the box containing his gift for Kyrie, and he places it on the free space next to him. Kyrie's solo has finished, and she'll be joining him in a few minutes.

By the Savior, Nero prays - heh - that Kyrie would like it. As in, LIKE kind of like, and not just the like where she likes it because it's only courteous to do so.

(He's rambling, isn't he?)

He almost jolts out of his seat when Kyrie glides into his periphery, smiling softly at him, and Nero masks his nervousness by pulling his headphones up to his ears, looking away in hopes of Kyrie not noticing how red his face sure is. But even so, from the corner of his eyes, Nero sees Kyrie pick pup the box with careful hands, and Nero chances a peek-

She looks absolutely awed, looking at the box with unrestrained glee, and Nero gives himself a pat on the back. Saving up and taking double missions back to back was worth it; Nero knows that the necklace nestled safely withing the box would be a gorgeous fit for Kyrie, and admittedly he can't wait to see her wear it. Wear the gift he picked out for her. But it'll have to wait until the end of service, because the divine old coot- er, His Holiness Sanctus, has taken the podium and is about to begin the Homily.

Nero swallows the aggrieved sigh he almost lets out, and sinks further down his seat.

This is going to be a long church service.

Nero lets the old man's voice wash over him, a low droning tone that almost puts him to sleep. It doesn't help that Kyrie is a warm and comforting presence next to him - which is, not her fault; she really just has that effect on everyone! It makes Nero wonder how Credo and Novena do this. Sit through each service all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Do they actually pay attention? Do they actually hear the words, and not just vague, word-like noises? Do they actually understand and even reflect on these stupid church services...?

... Maybe they really do; unlike Nero, Credo and Novena - especially Novena - are hardcore subscribers to the faith. They've memorized their prayers, their rosaries are always on their person, they treat the Vicar of Sparda with the utmost respect and adoration, and most of all, they're practically zealous in the way they follow the commandments of their religion. Not that... Nero doesn't follow the commandments - he does! - but those two are on a whole different realm of devoted, Nero swears. It was sometimes scary, really, how much they've put themselves into their faith. Nero couldn't understand it; their devotion, their absolute servitude to a god that never replied to his so called 'favored children'.

Nero snaps out of his wandering thoughts when he hears His Holiness call out, "Let us pray...!"

Nero watches as everyone fold their hands in prayer and bow their heads in respect, murmuring noiselessly. Even Kyrie beside him is praying, a smile curling her lips. Pretty as the vision she provides, it's not enough to soothe Nero, who's been feeling an itch beneath his skin, borne from lack of movement and action. He could only stay still for so long - something that Credo bemoaned during Nero's youth - and so with a huff, Nero gets up, intent to leave. Might as well bounce since the Homily is over, right?

"Nero, what's wrong?" Kyrie whispers, interrupting her prayers to ask Nero, a worried expression on her face.

"All this preaching's putting me to sleep," Nero mumbles petulantly, inching out of the pew and trying to be as quiet as he can. "I'm outta here."

Kyrie makes a noise at the back of her throat, hurrying after him as Nero leaves. Okay he feels a little bit bad now, taking her away from her prayers, but he can't deny that he's flattered that Kyrie would follow him out, even if it's to convince to go back inside. Most people would just let him go, just roll their eyes at him at best or shoot him a glare at worst. Kyrie never did any of those; she's too nice, too understanding-

Nero freezes mid-stride when his wrapped up arm - the demonic arm of his - glows an intense blue, the light strong enough to pierce the thick layers of the bandages and the sling. That's...

This isn't good.

A blood-chilling sensation of pure fear shoots down Nero's spine, nudging his senses to turn his eyes up, and so he does, because his instincts has rarely ever failed him, especially in the face of danger. And so he looks up-

The skylight shatters with a rain of glass, and a massive red-shape falls through the broken glass with the grace of a swooping hawk. The shape lands on the podium, in front of His Holiness, and Nero realizes with a rising feeling of dread that the red shape is in fact a man in a long red coat; bold in it's color and audacious in it's design. Not at all Fortunian.

The Man in Red pulls something out from within his coat, and-

BANG.

It was a familiar noise to Nero. The sound of a gunshot. It's not quite the same as his darling's, his Blue Rose, but it was similar enough. A loud, sudden sound that's explosion contained. He's familiar with the sound of a gunshot, and he's much more familiar with the sound of a body hitting the floor.

Dead.

Nero slowly herds Kyrie behind him, putting himself between this assassin and Kyrie, and he watches as everyone looks up slowly. As if it hasn't registered with them what just happened. Even Credo is frozen, eyes wide and mouth parted. Unmoving from where he stands. The Man in Red rises to stand with languid grace, and he turns, surveying the people with cold eyes and blood splashed onto his face.

Chaos erupts.

The citizens all flee, clamoring and pushing over each other in a bid to escape, and Nero hurriedly escorts Kyrie out to safety, a hand on her back and his bound arm itching like crazy with the need to pummel, to hit, to claw at the Man in Red. But Nero suppresses the urge, because his priority is to get Kyrie out and away; get her as far as possible from this mysterious assassin that came out of nowhere and killed His Holiness in the very heart of Fortuna. Deep in the territories of the Order of the Sword.

Nero, in the back of his mind, wonders who would tell Novena her adoptive father is dead.

Nero notices his gift slipping out of Kyrie's grasp, falling to the floor, and while Kyrie - dear, sweet Kyrie - tried to go back for it, Nero could only grimace and stop her, all but shoving her towards the doors where the rest of the people are fleeing to.

"Nero, your gift-!" Kyrie tries to protest, and by the Savior, Nero can't be mad at her. Not when she's too kind and too loving.

"Is not worth your life!" Nero replies sharply with an apologetic grimace. "Go, go! Get out of here!"

Kyrie bites her lip, but ultimately relents, much to Nero's relief. It was true; while he did work his ass for that gift, bought the necklace to present to Kyrie both in celebration and appreciation, such a thing is replaceable, in the end. Kyrie's life isn't, and while Nero might be seen as the least responsible person around, with his infamy, he would never- could never put Kyrie's life in jeopardy. Not one bit.

But even so, Nero is far from perfect; maybe his brief moment of relief and complacence is the reason why Kyrie managed to slip under his grasp - again! - with a fearful shout of, "Credo!"

"KYRIE!" Nero yells, his heart in his throat and that formless voice in his head howling in rage and fear, watching as Kyrie bolts, faster than she has any right to be, towards Credo and the Man in Red who was making his way towards the unsuspecting Supreme General. A quick scan of the opera house had Nero's gut coiling in despair, because the other Knights, his brother in arms, are dead. All dead. Pure white uniforms dyed red with their blood. All cut down with no mercy. Fear pools inside Nero as he sees Kyrie fall to the floor, crashing into a new victim that fell to the red assassin's massive blade. "KYRIE!"

Nero hears her whimper as the Man in Red regards her with cold eyes. Something in his chest pulses, red hot with his fury, and something in his mind snaps, ice cold clarity of having to protect.

With a furious roar, Nero charges, faster than he should move around the others, and he leaps, kicking the assassin in the face with the heels of his boots. Nero hears something crack in the mans jaw, and it fills him with sadistic satisfaction, something inside him preening in pride at landing such a hit, but he quashes his elation. It was too early to celebrate, after all, and so Nero pulls Blue Rose from within his jacket, taking careful aim and pulling the trigger.

Mid-air, the Man in Red shouldn't haven't been able to dodge. Nero banked on that brief time frame of vulnerability to permanently take the assassin out before he could rampage further, but-

He watches as the Man in Red turns sharply, bringing up his massive sword and blocks his bullets with the flat of his blade. All within the span of a split second. He twists with the blow then, landing on the Savior's statue, and Nero doesn't give him time to breathe. Not when the assassin gave none to His Holiness and the other Knights.

Nero picks up one of the fallen Knight's Caliburn as he bolts, maxing out it's Exceed gauge with a flick of the wrist, and he leaps all the way up to where the Man in Red is. Roaring a challenge, the sound deeper and raspier than in should be, Nero brings down the Caliburn onto the assassin's head, only for it to be blocked with that massive sword. The impact from both blades keeps Nero up in the air, his sword arm shaking from the force of the assassin's parry, but he grits his teeth and kicks out with a leg, hitting the pommel of the Man in Red's claymore and pushing it deeper into the Savior's marble head. The two of them leap apart to regroup, and Nero clicks his tongue when he sees the Man in Red aiming at him with not one but two handguns. Not good. But nonetheless, Nero levels his borrowed Caliburn at the Man in Red, daring not to take his eyes off of the assassin.

Nero, on relative terms, far outstrips anyone else amongst the ranks of the Knights in sheer raw power, instinct and reflexes. 'Gifted' Novena had praised him, when he first joined the Knights at the tender age of 14; the youngest ever to be Knighted. 'Skilled and persistent', Credo had called him, after Nero had time and time again made the Supreme General work for his victory over Nero.

Nero has always been a cut above the rest, reluctantly acknowledged at best by the others he isn't close to, and a source of jealousy and spite for the others. Nero hadn't minded it; who is he to question his capabilities, if it makes him a better Knight?

However... In the face of this Man in Red...

Nero feels like a newborn fawn; awkward in his movements and pathetically weak.

This assassin, whoever he is, is dangerous. More dangerous than anything Nero has faced in his 2 years of service as a Holy Knight of the Order of the Sword.

(Something within Nero, something deep inside him, however, howls and roars. Not backing down, not at all faltering. If anything, that something seems to get more and more excited, calling for violence, calling for blood, calling for Nero to tear this man apart-)

Nero shakes his head minutely. Not the time for funky thoughts in his head.

"Kyrie!" He calls out, a warning and a plea both. "Go with your brother and get out of here!"

"I'll return with help!" Nero hears Credo reply, voice colored with urgency and worry. Aww, Credo still worries about him! How nice. "You stall him until then!"

More Knights have come to take away the body of His Holiness, and Credo - with Kyrie protectively in his hold - follows them out, fleeing from ground zero.

Nero smirks to himself. "I won't hold my breath." He mutters, before he flicks off the headphones off of his person.

Nero begins the skirmish anew by throwing the Caliburn like a javelin, faster than what the assassin expected, and the Man in Red leaps upward, coat flaring. Nero goes after him, and he traps the assassin in place between his thighs, drawing Blue Rose in a blink and firing off a double-round. The assassin merely tilts his head, unbothered by the massive revolver in his face, and in retaliation, the Man in Red points the jet black handgun at his head. Nero doesn't let the fear overtake him, and instead he twists, shifting, and he hooks one leg across the man's elbow, pulling his trajectory off and making him shoot wide. But it speaks about the man's experience and skill that he merely follows up with the pale white gun, aimed at Nero's head - again - and this time Nero is forced to bite the barrel, teeth and jaw aching from how hard he chomped down on the thing. Blegh, nasty.

Nero, with a gun trapped between his teeth, aims Blue Rose at the assassin's head. Just one shot, one shot, and he can put an end to this bullsh-

However, it seems that Nero isn't the only one with nigh-inhuman flexibility, because the Man in Red tips his head all the way back, the bullet missing his chin by mere millimeters.

Nero lets out a pained noise when the man kicks him away - Nero thinks he heard something crack in his back, but he can't be sure - and gritting his teeth, he reaches out, quick as a snake, and hauls the assassin around to toss him back at the Savior's head in hopes of stunning him with the impact.

The Savior's head where the Man in Red's claymore is located, something Nero had forgotten in their brief mid-air scuffle.

Oops.

Nero twists, grabbing hold of the chandelier's support, and he uses the moment to swing around, launching himself feet first with a well aimed angle. He hits the claymore's handle with both feet, hard enough that it tears through the marble like butter with a violent upswing. Nero clicks his tongue in disappointment when the assassin merely dodges that one too.

It was like the assassin is wholly unbothered by Nero's attempts to stop him, and as Nero braces himself on the statue's wrists, he looks up at the Man in Red, who's caught his claymore-

And is bringing it down on Nero's head with a lazy smile.

Nero brings up Blue Rose with an alarmed gasp, and for a moment he thought that his darling broke under the blow, feeling like his very bones are shuddering from absorbing the hit. Nero - to his shame and alarm - rolls between the statue's body and blade, and his catches himself with a partial split, grimacing to himself because no matter how much he postures, no matter how much he ran his mouth in front of Kyrie and Credo earlier-

This guy, this Man in Red, far outclasses him. Nero is panting now, sucking in heaving breathes and limbs hurting, but the assassin looks calm and composed; not even a single drop of sweat on him. Nero looks up, and sees the Man in Red casually perched on top of the sword, looking down at Nero between the gaps of the marble statue. The assassin tilts his head.

'That's all?' his gesture seems to say, and Nero-

Indignation and fury burns inside Nero, bluish-white in its intensity, and with renewed vigor and fueled by anger, Nero gets both feet up against the sword. So much for leaving the statue intact; Nero's going to beat up this assassin and leave none for the Knights to even pick at!

The wrists of the statue breaks, making the sword tip over, and as Nero has come to expect, the assassin merely stays balanced on the sword's pommel, calm as you please. Nero doesn't want to do it, doesn't want to run the risk of someone from the Order popping up all of the sudden, but if he doesn't pull out all of the stops, he really wouldn't stand a chance against this assassin - who must be undoubtedly a demon, judging from the way his arm keeps pulsing blue ever since Nero tried to leave earlier.

He really doesn't want to use Devil Bringer right now, but-!

"Go to hell, jackass!" Nero snarls, bringing his right arm back and flexing his hand. The demonic energy bursting forth from Devil Bringer tears up the bandages and sling in a roar of blue flames, and the phantom limb appears; massive and powerful. Nero's teeth feels sharper than normal inside his mouth, but at the look of shock on the assassin's face makes Nero grin, violence and cruel glee singing joyfully in his blood.

With a roar, Nero throws down a punch, practically slamming the full force of Devil Bringer on the Man in Red, and the marble statue crumbles under the blow, breaks and breaks and breaks under the weight of Devil Bringer. Nero's attack hits the ground with a thunderous boom, the floor cratering under the phantom limb's strike, and Nero releases the phantom limb, only to see-

The assassin no longer there.

Nero lands on the ground, and he stays there for a moment, breathing hard.

A low, impressed whistle, and Nero lifts his eyes up, looking at the assassin practically lounging on one of the surviving pews. His legs are crossed, one arm thrown over the back rest, and the other hand lightly hold his claymore, deceptively loose. The assassin is smiling at Nero, looking honestly amused.

"Curious thing you got there kid." He says. Speaking for the first time since all of this started.

Nero sits back on his haunches for a moment, eyes raking over the assassin in this moment of respite. He doesn't have long, he knows the Man in Red will be on the move in a few moments, but for now-

For now, he takes in the white hair, the blue eyes, the pale skin, and wonders-

"Thought the cat got your tongue." Nero quips back, pulling an amused snort from the assassin. "Speaking of cats... you know what they say about cats and curiosities, right?"

Eyebrows shoot up in amusement. "Oh?" The Man in Red leans forward, and gone is the levity from his expression; his smile cold and predatory. Demonic. "Care to enlighten me, then, kid?"

Nero snorts, standing back up and borrowing another Caliburn from another fallen Knight. After this, he should probably pray. As thanks or whatever. But first...

"Sure thing." Nero replies lightly, stabbing the Caliburn into the ground and revving up it's engine, kicking it to max gauge in an instant and make the exhausts roar and spit flames. He bares his teeth in a feral imitation of a smile. "Tell Sparda 'hi' once I send you to hell, yeah?"

"Whatever you say, kid." The assassin chortles, dark amusement coloring his tone and making his eyes bleed red. "Let's dance!"


Nero prowls through the empty city with a heavy heart and a heavier mind.

After all, what is he to do in the wake of his fight- no, in the wake of that assassin toying with him? Humoring him with a little fight like a very tolerant uncle letting his favorite nephew clamber all over him? It was infuriating to realize that not once did that assassin take Nero seriously, but more importantly, Nero feels disturbed at how their fight ended. Nero had skewered the Man in Red to Sparda's statue with his very own sword; Nero heard it tear through flesh and bone to bite deep into the statue, but the assassin complimented Nero and pushed himself off of the statue. Pulled his sword out of his chest with practiced movements. As if him being stabbed in the chest was a normal occurrence. If Nero had any doubts about the Man in Red being a demon, his doubts have been obliterated in the face of that act.

("You're not human, are you?" Nero had ask, barely containing the tremble in his voice. The fear.

The assassin grins at him; a secretive, playful one stretching across his face. "We're the same, you and I." The Man in Red replies with a cheerful tone. As if he didn't just destroy Nero's world view. But the playful drops from his expression, and he nods to one of the bodies of the fallen Knights. "And them."

Nero frowns then, because what does he mean? What does he mean that Nero is similar to him, to this demonic assassin, and how are the other Knights similar to them-

Nero sees the bodies, then. Their helms probably knocked off their heads during Nero and the assassin's skirmish. And instead of seeing a human face, Nero sees-)

Nero knows that there's something not quite right about him. He's known it long ago, even if he doesn't want to acknowledge it. But a month ago, when he was injured in that ambush in Mitis Forest and his arm changed to something decidedly not human, Nero is forced to acknowledge that no. He's not human. Not fully, at least, but he doubts that he's a demon. Merely equipped with the memories of a being called 'Nero' and has fooled itself into thinking it's a human, no.

Nero is a human, but he just might also be just a demon. It was a theory - a fact - that Nero had refused to think deeply on, scared of what it'll mean, what it bodes for him. What would Credo think, what would Novena think-

What would Kyrie think?

The idea shakes Nero to the core, and thus it was an idea that he shoved into the very depths of his mind, hiding it behind lock and key and burying it under other memories. It had worked - mostly - but now all his efforts have been thrown out of the window.

All because of that Man in Red, who clearly knows more than he lets on, and is willing to taunt Nero enough with it, tempting him on a chase. Baiting him with more information, taunting him with a truth that's just barely out of Nero's grasp-

And by the Savior he's tempted. He's tempted so bad.

Good thing he's going after the assassin already; Credo had issued a solo mission for him, to capture His Holiness's killer and take him back to Headquarters. Witnesses had said that the man is enroute to Fortuna Castle, just beyond Ferrum Hills and built in the middle of the Lamina peaks, and Nero could work with that. A little bit hard to traverse on foot - what with the city on lockdown and flooded with demons (something that worried Nero to no end; did the Man in Red cause this too?) all over.

But a little light in the dark for Nero, with the city completely devoid of any civilians - those who managed to flee, at least - or Knights, Nero was free to use everything at his disposal, and that means he can use his two darlings, Blue Rose and Red Queen as well as his ace in the sleeve - heh, sleeve - the Devil Bringer. With all three of his weapons in tandem, barely any demons would last against him, and Nero takes the opportunity to unleash his frustrations and anger on the demons. Pretty cathartic, Nero has to admit.

Nero just reached the business district, and he could hear the cackling and giggling of the Scarecrows nearby. And from the sheer volume of it, there's a lot. Oh boy, another horde. Nero sighs despondently, and after weighing his options, he decides to stick to the rooftops, intent on sneaking past them to save time-

"-... Almighty, grant me strength to hold up the blade that is promised to defend humanity. Grant me the courage to face my fears, and the demons of the depths. Grant me the soul that endures hardships, endures suffering. Guide me, protect me, and empower me. Allow to me to join You in this Holy War… amen."

Nero freezes in his tracks, blood running cold.

He knows that voice. In fact, he's very familiar with it.

Novena.

Hurrying to the edge of the building, he peers over the edge, and there he sees her.

The lone Knight drowning in a sea of demons. Her regalia is torn and bloodied; bright red and not the blackish tar that demons often bleed, and that tells Nero that Novena is in danger. Serious danger, if she's injured that bad.

She might be the third best fighter in their generation of Knights, just behind Nero himself and Knight Maria, but there's a reason why Novena is very much respected within the Order, and it's not just because of her faith and zeal, no. Novena, beyond her habits of praying, is known for her tenacity; her sheer willpower and drive to pursue something. Once she's working towards something, she's not stopping till she achieves it, goes above and beyond what's demanded of her. She's always been like that, putting her all in whatever she deems worthy of her attention. When it comes to her dancing - her beloved hobby - or hunting demons - her life's work, or so she says - Novena gives her all and some.

So to see her bloodied, on her knees and weak-

It was wrong.

Blue Rose is out before Nero could think of it, and he guns the demons down in the immediate area around Novena. He reloads, fastest he's ever reloaded before, and he continues sniping from where he is, vision dyed red and lips pulling back into a snarl.

Novena might be one of the strongest of their generation, but she's still human - fragile, weak and human - so why is she alone? Why is she surrounded, left to fend for her own, with no back up?! Wasn't she assigned to the newest Executive, the only other female Knight in the Order? Where is that Executive, leaving Novena with no back up?! Where are the other Knights?!

Nero vaguely hears Novena cry out in relief, but he can't hear her over the roar in his mind, the need for revenge and carnage filling Nero's mind.

He almost lost Kyrie, due to his own carelessness. He almost lost Credo, due to the man's lack of attention. And if Nero hadn't been careful, hadn't heard Novena-

He's not going to lose of his family. Not to any demons.

Nero pulls out a glass orb from within his coat, an Order-issued Holy Water, and he lobs the things into the crowd of scarecrows, the blessed water exploding in a thick cloud of vapor, and the demons squeal and scream as the mist eats at their impure flesh. There's now ample room around Novena, and better yet, the demons are now ignoring her in favor of going after him, their manic laughter intensifying as they practically clamber over each other in a bid to get to him.

Not a problem.

"Hey, old girl, catch!" Nero calls out, tossing his spare Holy Water at Novena, who catches it with relief written clear across her face. "Hold onto that, yeah?"

"Nero, thank you-"

Nero shoots the nearest Scarecrow in the head. Spares a grin Novena's way. "Take a rest, I'm sure your rickety old bones would appreciate the rest." It was a running gag between them, Nero constantly calling the older Knight with whatever variation of 'old person' he could come up with. Novena never protests, in fact she finds it pretty amusing, and so it was easy to fall back on such habits. Nero fires of Blue Rose once more. "Seriously, I'll deal with you after this."

Novena nods and acquiesces, settling against where she is with her shorter blade in one hand and the other clutching the orb of holy water close to herself. If her injuries are bad enough that she can't move... Well. Explains all the blood on her, then. Damn, better make this quick and make a short detour to make sure Novena gets out of here alive.

So with single-minded determination, Nero deals with the horde by himself, gunning them all down with barely any pause. He knows his ammunition stock will suffer like hell after this, but that's alright. What's a few bullets, anyway? Beside he can actually do a little detour here; pick up the rest of his stuff in his house.

(A small blessing, Nero thinks.)

Soon enough the demon horde is gone, the air thick with the miasma of their blood and demonic essence, and the two Knights finally heave twin sighs of relief. Nero looks up at Novena's vaguely hysterical laughter, practically lying on the ground now, clothes and skin torn up and bloody, her hair - which used to be long, is now cut offensively short by Fortunian standards - a tangled mess around her head. Novena might not be fussy over her looks - that title belongs to Knight Maria - but she has always made a point to keep herself presentable. It speaks of how much stress the older Knight was in when she loses her composure.

"... You good there, old timer?" Nero calls out hesitantly, eyes roving over Novena's body to see if she has any more injuries. Her legs are messed up, especially her knees - damn, did those Scarecrows know to go for her joints and cripple her? That's bad; very bad - and back but aside from those... Nero is honestly worried the older Knight would die from blood loss, at this rate. "Need me to get your meds?"

"No need, Nero, no need." Novena manages in-between her hysterics, out of breath but very much glad she's alive.

(She really expected to die here, Nero thinks, and he doesn't know what to do about that realization.)

Nero wants to believe her, he really does, but the worry feels like insects under his skin, clawing to the surface, so with a click of the tongue, he hauls himself over the building's railing, rolling the sleeve of his coat all the way down to his Devil Bringer-

"No!" Novena throws a hand out to stop Nero, and he stares at her, puzzled. What is it now? Novena offers him a shaky grin. "Just- just stay there. I'll be fine."

Nero stares at Novena. She's probably delirious from all that blood loss. Yeah, that's probably it.

"... Yeah, sure, and I'm the descendant of the Dark Knight or whatever." Nero scoffs, loud enough to be heard by Novena. He makes to climb again, screw whatever protests Novena is spewing.

But if Nero is stubborn, Novena is much more stubborn; she's far, far worse than him in the stubbornness department, really, and Nero could be really stubborn. Says a lot about how hard headed the older Knight is, especially when it comes to her duty and pride as a Knight. It's something that's both inspiring and frustrating, Nero thinks.

"N-no, really I'm fine, see-?!" With shaking legs, Novena gets up to stand, and to her credit she barely stumbled and barely made a pained face, so kudos to her for that. But still- "Besides, I have... Oh."

... Okay that's not good. Sitting on the railing of the building, ready to jump down if his dumbass of a friend is being particularly stupid again, Nero pins Novena with a piercing look. "Okay, what is it this time." Nero couldn't even muster the energy to pose it as a question.

Without answering him, Novena pulls out-

Pulls out a whole Vital Star from inside her coat, still full from the looks of it, and Novena stares dumbly at it, as if she herself is surprised by it's presence. Nero's left hand hits his face, and he drags it down with a pained, exasperated groan. Nero knows he jokes a lot about Novena's age, and she's not really that old! But this is just-

"Please don't tell me you forgot about that thing, Nov, please. Don't make me lose what little respect I have for you."

Novena's only response was to offer him a lopsided grin, before she uncorks the star-shaped bottle and chugs down the contents, making a disgusted face as she does so. Nero will never understand how the others keep saying the Vital Stars are disgusting, not when some of them are strawberry flavored, of all things. Sure, it tasted a little odd, but the majority of the flavor was definitely strawberry, Nero thinks.

So Nero watches as Novena tries to drink up all of the Vital Star, slightly judging her - just a little! - for her poor, poor life choices. Glory in death? Dying in the service of the Savior?

Peh.

Once Novena is done choking down the recovery potion, she sighs and stands up straighter, the worse of her injuries starting to heal and the smallest ones sloughing off of her in a dark mist. At least that was a bit of comfort, Nero thinks. It was wrong to see Novena looking beaten. Not when Nero had grown up seeing Novena as an older sister. Someone who shouldered the burdens of the world and didn't falter from it. Just like Credo, now that Nero thinks about it.

(They'd make a good pair, Nero once told Kyrie, and they both giggled about it for days on end. Hell, Nero might have dropped a little bit of gossip amongst the lower ranks, of the chances of Novena and Credo getting together. It spread like wildfire; betting pools were made, even.

The scolding he got from Credo and the exasperated look Novena gave him was worth it, Nero thinks.)

But despite the humorous turn of his thoughts, Nero remembers something. The reason why he's all the way out here and enroute to Fortuna Castle. Nero never really liked His Holiness, at least, no in the same way the others respect the leader of their Order, but even so the man is still- was still their leader. The watcher over all of Fortuna's citizens.

The man who took in Novena and practically raised her.

"... Hey, there's something I gotta tell you." Nero begins. Might as well bite the bullet, right? "Something happened in the opera house earlier, while the sermon was going. It's the reason why I'm headed towards Fortuna Castle instead of HQ."

Novena falls still, hands freezing in the midst of her fixing what remains of her clothes. "... Continue." Is her quiet response.

Nero takes a deep breath, before he does as told. "His Holiness was assassinated. By a Man in Red that came out of nowhere."

Novena didn't react at first, merely looking up at Nero from where she is down on the streets of the business district, but it only prompts Nero to keep a closer eye on the older Knight, carefully eyeing her for anything that'll give her away. But nothing. She does nothing but stare at him. Bright green eyes almost unseeing. Dead and dull.

Nero expected her to cry, to grieve and wail for the loss of the man who raised her as a father, but he's gonna admit this absolute silence is far more intimidating than if Novena were to throw a fit. Rage as she should at the unfairness of it all.

Novena draws in a shuddering breath, the first noise Nero heard from her since breaking the news of His Holiness's death to her. "I... I see." She murmurs, unnaturally calm despite the circumstances. "Someone... Someone managed to get through our brothers and kill His Holiness?"

Nero nods, chewing on his lower lip. "I tried to pay him back, but... he got away. Witnesses say he's headed for Fortuna Castle." He replies.

Novena finally looks away then, lifting her own Caliburnclose to her face, staring at- something. She's most likely praying, now that Nero thinks about it, and his eyes snap back to her when she finally lifts her head and squares her shoulders.

"Go ahead Nero, I'll join you before you reach the mining town in Ferrum Hills." Novena says, her voice strong and sharp. Trying so hard to hide the grief and rage boiling inside her. Nero wishes she'd be more truthful to herself, allow the negative emotions to get out of her system instead of just... trapping it all inside of her because it's not right for a servant of the Savior to give in to their 'foul emotions'. "Give me a moment to find a supply cache from the Order and attend to myself."

Nero frowns. He should, her suggestion is logical, but- "I could wait for you." He says, even as he mentally grimaces. Having Novena with him would me he has to hide his arm again, his Devil Bringer, and that means shelving one of his strongest weapons. But on the other hand, he's survived countless missions before without Devil Bringer. Surely, he can do this as well?

(Maybe he really shouldn't have invited Novena to go with him, insisted that she go to HQ instead... Stupid, stupid Nero...!)

"No, go ahead, I'll catch up to you." She looks up at him then, and she plasters a bright grin on her face. A facade, to assuage Nero's worries. Which is ironic, because it's not Nero she should really be worrying about. "I'll be fine, really."

Nero opts not to call her out on her bullshit, so he simply nods, standing up and hopping off of the railings he's been sitting on. He looks at her one last time.

"See you at the entrance to the mining town, the one on the other side of Caerula Port? Meet me there in an hour, or I'm leaving for the castle without you." Nero watches as Novena picks up her weapons and sheaths them, taking a look at her ruined coat, before sighing and finally tearing it off of her. She folds up the remains, always so respectful, so reverent of anything related to the Order, and she leaves it on the rubble she was leaning on earlier, when she was surrounded by demons. "Chop chop, Nonna-vena; batti il ferro finché è caldo¹, as the old men at the Order say."

That draws a laugh from Novena, loud and clear and honest, and maybe Nero shouldn't worry so much about the older Knight. She's strong, in her own way.

Novena flaps her hands at Nero, shooing him away just like back when Nero was an unruly teen running underfoot. "Go, Nero. I'll be fine." She smiles, genuine despite the grief still lingering in her gaze. "I'll catch up to you later."

Nero nods slowly, taking a few steps back. He points Blue Rose at her, his finger off the trigger. "I'll hold you to that." He replies, before he turns and walks away. Novena will be fine. She will be.

And so Nero parts ways with Novena, and resumes his hunt. He has his own prey to chase, after all. He'll worry about Novena's involvement later on.


¹; "Grandma-Vena, strike while the iron is hot"

Disclaimer I am not Italian, but I cannot help but headcanon Fortuna to be (technically) part of Italy's territory, even if Fortuna is considered an independent nation by the others of the mainland.

(Am I ignoring everyone's American accents? Mayhaps. But even so, I like playing with this headcanon too much suhfosuhf)