Cardinal Fire Marshal

Loud, clunky footsteps stride toward Rosary from behind; she’s so focused on the foe before her that she doesn’t realize there’s an ally behind her until a hand rests on her shoulder.

“Thanks for drawing him out,” says a staticky female voice, prompting Rosary to jolt her head to see the hand’s owner.

The hand is covered in a thick black glove that offers no mobility. Not a spot of skin is visible; her entire body is covered in a thick fireman’s jacket and boots, and her face is masked, with a hose connected to the oxygen tank on her back. Any person seeing her on the street would think she looks like an ordinary firewoman, save for the strange emblem. It depicts a burning bird in dazzling blue, barely visible on the black coat.

“Kill that one too,” demands the diviner, prompting the arch-devil to look back at her.

“You do not give me orders,” booms the arch-devil, in a voice like a jackhammer.

“It’s not like you could even if you tried,” says the newly arrived firewoman, pulling out a red fire-extinguisher-like canister from her back.

The arch-devil’s eyes flash red as he stares down at the firewoman, his bony face grinding as it contorts in a snarl. He brings down his massive hand, attempting to slash with a force that could level trees. He misses his mark as the firewoman leaps to avoid his slash and jumps onto his arm.

PSSHHHHHHHH

The canister hisses as she runs up the arch-devil’s arm, coating it in a thick white foam that sticks to his flesh while immediately dispersing from any other surface. She continues running even as she reaches the arch-devil’s shoulder, leaping through his jaws and sliding down his back. She only jumps off when reaching the torii gate. With delicate care, she leaps from the arch-devil’s tail onto the gate’s arches, making sure never to pass into the limits of the lair.

The arch-devil is none too pleased by her antics and attempts to slam her with his tail, but she leaps back in front, narrowly dodging by the hem of her coat. Diving into a roll, she stops right where she began, right in front of Rosary.

“What are you doing!” screams the diviner. “Stop messing around and kill her already.”

The arch-devil flashes the diviner a snarling glare, distracting him long enough for the firewoman to stow her red canister and pull something else from her pocket.

“Cover your eyes,” she says to Rosary, raising a hand.

“Huh?” Rosary asks, but the firewoman doesn’t answer. Instead, she holds up an ordinary-looking lighter with the numbers “19:24–25” on it. With a snap of her thumb, she opens the lighter.

“A brief foretaste of the eternity you’ve sown,” she says, and flicks the flint wheel.

FLOOSH

Blue flames erupt from the lighter’s opening, burning in a line straight at the arch-devil’s body. The flames engulf the arch-devil’s foam-covered form before spreading to cover his entire body.

“AUGH!” cries the arch-devil, slapping and coiling to try to smother the flames, but they stick to his body like Greek fire. The flames grow more intense as the heat creates an updraft, sucking in more oxygen and intensifying the spectacle.

Rosary covers her face, feeling her eyebrows singe, and her eyes burn from the light. No doubt if the flames were physical instead of spiritual, they’d be seen from space. The arch-devil collapses, body charred and crumpling.

“Come on, show me the pearl,” murmurs the firewoman, pulling a fire ax with a cross-shaped head from her back.

WHACK WHACK WHACK

She hacks into the body, chopping with wild abandon even as the arch-devil wails. Each swing sends woodchip-sized pieces flying away, disintegrating in mid-air.

TING!

She only stops when a new sound comes from her swing.

“There we are,” says the firewoman as the arch-devil stops moving and its body begins dispersing en masse.

She reaches out a hand to grasp the arch-devil’s core, embedded in his still-burning body. She’s so focused on gathering the golf-ball-sized orb that she overlooks the new threat coming from behind the arch-devil’s body.

“Look out,” warns her guardian, but it’s too late.

A needle shoots out through the arch-devil’s still-disintegrating body and stabs into her thick firewoman’s coat.

“Ah!” the firewoman gasps, falling back with the orb in hand as the needle stabs into her shoulder.

Recovering faster than she falls, the firewoman adjusts her footing and makes a swing with her ax, attempting to sever the needle, only to have it retract just as quickly as it came. In a flash, the needle returns with the same force as before, but this time the firewoman is ready. The needle strikes three times in the blink of an eye, but the firewoman parries and dodges each one as she retreats.

She’s almost backed up to Rosary when two needles come crashing through the last of the smoke generated by the arch-devil’s disintegrating body. She parries one, but another stabs into her other shoulder, leaving her with one bloody stain on each arm. Just as quickly as they appeared, the needles stop and retract, pulling back to the diviner’s hands.

“You don’t think you’ll be able to keep that, do you, dear?” asks the diviner, three needles in each hand held between her fingers.

“Oh, this?” asks the firewoman, holding up the arch-devil’s pearl. “Not like there’s anything you can do to stop me.”

“Oh, isn’t there?” asks the diviner, fingers grasping the two bead bracelets around her wrists. “Each bracelet is made up of two dozen pearls I’ve amassed over my career. Do you really think you can fight nearly fifty demons in your state?”

Her lips curl into a snarl to match the arch-devil’s.

“You really think those pathetic wrist weights combined will be half the threat the arch-devil was?” replies the firewoman, her mask hiding any sign of fear.

“Then come finish what you’ve started and purify the lair,” challenges the diviner.

“Maybe I will—ah,” cries the firewoman as she raises her ax, only to have it fall. Blood spurts from her shoulder injury as pain shoots through her body. “What’s going on? Why aren’t you numbing the pain?” she whispers in a voice so soft only her guardian can hear it.

“It’s a purely physical injury dealt by human hands. I can’t do anything till you de-transfigure,” replies her angel.

“What’s the matter, dear? Not feeling as confident? Perhaps I should send my minions to you then.”

“You’re welcome to try,” says the firewoman, dropping her ax and pulling out her canister hose. She holds the nozzle in one hand and the lighter in the other, open but not striking the flint wheel. “But only if you’re confident that they can last more than a second in my blaze.”

The two stare each other down; neither can properly see the other’s face, and their bodies remain stone still.

“Be ready to run,” she murmurs back to Rosary as the diviner’s fingers remain hooked on her bracelets.

“Bah!” the diviner finally screams, releasing her fingers from the bracelets. “It doesn’t matter,” she cries. “Without purifying the lair, your victory is meaningless. I’ll forge a new core and resummon him; you’ve only delayed my work, not ceased it.”

“But you still concede defeat,” mocks the firewoman, as the diviner disappears into the dark fog of the shrine.

Even after the diviner vanishes, the firewoman doesn’t relax. Her hands remain fixed on her nozzle and lighter, ready for any sneak attack that might come.

“You ready to move?” she asks, peeking at Rosary.

“Oh, uhh,” Rosary stammers, breaking her trance enough to realize the situation. “Y-yes,” she says, picking up Mist and rising to her feet.

“Then traverse the firmament and let’s move,” the firewoman says, pocketing her lighter and picking up her ax.

Rosary does as instructed, and once hidden from the sight of normal mortals, they rush down the street, only stopping once they’re well away from the shrine.

“Do you have holy water?” the firewoman asks once they’ve reached a secluded alley where nobody would see them.

“Only a bit,” Rosary says, gently setting Mist against the wall.

“Use this then,” the firewoman says, tossing Rosary a flask. “You were both in there without traversing the firmament, right? I’m not sure what your goal was, but that was a reckless move. Make sure to purify yourself as well.”

“I will,” Rosary replies. “And thank you… uh—”

Rosary trails off as she realizes she doesn’t know who this Maiden is.

“Oh, I guess I never did introduce myself. Apologies, we’ve only met twice before at Dioce meetings, but I don’t believe I’ve actually introduced myself,” the firewoman says, bowing her head. “I’m the Fire Marshal of Mt. Fuji,” she says with practiced elegance. “Sixth-circle Templar, a Cardinal nesting in the Greater East Asian Dioce.”

“Cardinal!” Rosary says, bowing her head in equal parts amazement and fear. “Please forgive my rudeness, I had no idea you were so above me, though that isn’t any excuse, I—”

“We were in combat, there’s nothing to worry about. Raise your head,” Marshal says, waving a hand.

“Not until I’ve introduced myself properly,” Rosary says, bowing lower to plant her forehead on the asphalt.

“I already know of you, Rosary Bow,” Marshal says, prompting Rosary to lift her head in surprise.

“You do?”

“How can I not?” Marshal asks, voice full of genuine praise. “You’re the First Fruit of your generation, after all. I remember I was eliminated in the first round of my year’s competition.”

“Still, you’re a Cardinal, and I failed to offer you the proper respects.”

“Oh, this is reward enough,” Marshal says, pulling the golf-ball-sized demon pearl from her pocket. “This arch-devil pearl will get me a top ten slot within the Dioce, maybe even top five.”

Marshal holds the pearl up like a diamond, smiling under her helmet.

“Yes, I’m sure all three of us will have a rank increase after this success,” Rosary says, smiling.

“We?” Marshal asks, dropping the pearl into her hand and squeezing it tight. “What’s this ‘we’ you’re referring to?”

“Well, we all contributed to the fight, so—”

“I don’t recall you two lifting a finger during my fight with that arch-devil,” Marshal says, straightening her back to stare down at Rosary. “What makes you think you’re due any credit?”

“Well… we are the ones who lured it out of its lair where it was weaker…” Rosary says, her confidence all but evaporating.

“That just makes you fools,” Marshal says. “Fools who should be satisfied with the miracle of surviving that encounter. In fact, you should be offering me more for saving you. What a miracle it was that I happened to be on my class trip in Tokyo when one of your guardians came, begging and pleading for any help they could find. You should be thanking me for more than that, actually.”

She takes a step closer to Rosary, pressing her hand against the wall to cage Rosary in.

“And be thankful that this pearl is all I’m taking.”

Rosary bites her tongue; she can’t stand to look up at Marshal’s mask.

“Thank you,” she says, squeezing her eyes shut as her fists clench.

“Don’t thank me, thank the one who sent me,” Marshal says, pulling back and turning from Rosary.

She walks to the edge of the alley so only her silhouette is visible to Rosary.

“Make sure you do the purification correctly on both of you, and get home safely.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Rosary says, snapping her back straight.

“And get home safely,” Marshal continues. “I’m sure you’ll have a long, distinguished tenure in the Maidens. Anyone who can face an arch-devil and live to tell about it can be sure of that.” With that, Marshal exits the alley, leaving Rosary with a still-unconscious Mist.