Fantaschiel!! The Legendary Rom-Com without Romance or Comedy in it
“Aaaa-aah, there’s no end to them,” Dezechiel sighs, swinging his sword around in a very flashy, but quite impractical manner.
“Whoo! I don’t think we’ve ever killed this many before!” Ecstatic, Fantastasia circles her spear above her head, the odd charms hanging from it ringing with every move. “This is amazing! Best birthday present I could imagine!!”
The brown-haired swordsman with an oddly angelic name dashes forward, slashing several puppets into pieces with the minimal amount of swings needed. “Eh? It’s your birthday?!?”
“Huh? Don’t tell me you’ve actually forgotten?” Panicked, surprised and utterly indisposed, Fan-Fan begins desecrating the wooden enemies. For some reason, they spill blood when cut apart. Odd.
“Naaah, just kidding, haha!”
“You’re totally trying to play it off cool, aren’t you?!” The girl's voice has a very aggressive tone to it. The fact she just took off about five heads with a single swing doesn’t help that feeling.
“Youknowwhat, actually, I’m supposed to be somewhere, so see yaaaa!” The man dashes off in the direction where the hordes of puppets are coming from, slicing his way through the crowd of enemies as if he was shoveling snow. In fact, shoveling snow looks harder.
“You lil shit, come heeeere!” The demon girl’s pink hair swaying around violently, she starts chasing after her partner-in-crime, mopping up her foes as she goes. Her pace is slower, but seeing how her almost three meter spear takes out all the puppets around her with each roundhouse swipe, the amount she’s killing is far greater.
Dezechiel, who is already far, far ahead, doesn’t pay much attention to her. Now that she mentions it, there does seem to be an unreasonably high amount of them. This is getting kinda tiresome. It’s good to get some physical exercise in, but once you push it beyond a certain point, your hair gets sweaty and shows your imperfect hairline. That must be avoided at all costs.
The eccentric swordsman draws a circle in the dirt around him with the tip of his foot at the speed of a professional tango dancer. In a split-second, flames dash out in all directions, scorching the puppets in his immediate surroundings.
Now, there’s two places he can continue. Back or forth. The aerial platforms they’re fighting on are arranged in a continuous line, so unless he wishes to fall into The Unveiled Abyss, he has to choose one of the two. And Fan-Fan is right behind him. She can take care of herself.
He extends his left hand forth. With a snap of his fingers, lanes of colorful flame burn all the puppets to a crisp. The only issue being he has to wait until the ground cools off. No fantasy bullshit where the protagonist is immune to his own fire. Hot shit burns.
“Aaaah, I’m so done with this!” The girl’s eyes gleam. She executes a single swing, surprisingly elegant for her rowdy nature, and all the enemies in front of her drop to the ground.
A secret technique, passed down from generation to generation amongst monks. ‘Tenjou Ara’. Legends say only very few can master it.
As she only learned it yesterday, she’s been itching to try it out. Thus her excitement about the enemy count.
“Ow-ow-ow, take a look at what you’re cutting!” Dezechiel cries from somewhere far up front.
Whatever. He’s gonna be alright. He’s almost immortal, after all. Keyword: almost.
Fiery red eyes. Cherry blossom pink hair. Just the right amount of quirkiness. The way she’s carefree, yet still so immensely skilled. No wonder Dezechiel fell in love with her the moment he met her. He also made his confession right then and there.
“Huh? It’s been like two minutes since we’ve known each other though?!?!” Fantastasia’s expression perfectly reflects just how creeped out she is.
But the angel doesn’t let up. Clenching his fist, he continues to stand there with a firm expression, his chin high and chest puffed out. “Regardless, could you please give me an answer?”
“Eh? I mean, I’m flattered, but…” the pink-haired demon girl trails off while fiddling with her fingers, an awkward smile filling her face, “with you? Not in one thousand years, haha!”
That sealed the deal and made things awkward between the two of them. As luck would have it, they’ve been assigned as partners. And it’s been three hundred years ever since.
How could one’s ego survive those tormentous centuries, all while forced to work with the girl who shot you down like an empty beer can in a zombie post-apocalyptic training arc setting?
Well, Deze decided to drown his sorrow out in women. And so, he started asking out every girl he met. Much to his surprise, this strategy wasn’t very efficacious and he has yet to score.
On the other hand, Fan-Fan kept getting approached wherever they went, rejecting every single one of those poor fellas with a sadistic and sometimes playful smirk on her face.
And so, the story of the playboy wannabe and the fiery ice queen begins. Or rather, it’s actually been going on for quite a while. Will Dezechiel ever score a chick? Will Fantastasia’s heart finally melt?
And most importantly, what the hell is this story even about?
That, and more, we’ll find out in the next chapter! Hopefully.