Chapter 11:

Problems in paradise

Fantaschiel!! The Legendary Rom-Com without Romance or Comedy in it


Hans von Lederkuchen cackles. After all, he just finished his greatest creation. He looks at the beautiful doll, as close to the human form as one could hope to get. Even a seasoned traveler wouldn’t be able to discern her from a real person.

He then turns to the girl who’s still hanging on the cross. Hmm, this is taking a while. He should put her down soon, or else he’s gonna have to deal with taking care of pressure ulcers.

Speaking of, that damned angel-demon duo sure are taking their sweet time. But no matter! After all, their arrival is all but certain.

Anytime now…

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Situation update: we’re gonna fucking die. Fantastasia nervously twitches around as much as her restraints allow her to. Why did they, at the very least, not allow them to change into normal clothing? Being tied up in a swimsuit is borderline…

Before she has time to finish the thought, an old man enters the room. His aura is immense- the moment he walks in, chills run down her back. This guy means trouble.

Nekketsu and Tekketsu instantly kneel in his presence. The large tatami mat under the Fantaschiel duo comes to an interesting realization- there are times when ’peeing one’s pants’ isn’t just a metaphor.

“Are these the two that murdered my grandson?” he roars. His thunderous voice, his traditional eastern attire, the katana strapped to his side, and, of course, the question he asked- they all have one thing in common.

They further reassure Fantastasia that they are, in fact, gonna fucking die.

Dezechiel is the first to speak. “It was an accident, your-”

Before he has time to finish, Nekketsu’s sharp kick to his ribs informs him that he has already finished his sentence.

“No speaking in front of the Leader!”

There were times when Deze thought being kicked by a girl is quite possibly a nice thing. This experience just waved those times goodbye.

The scary old man walks over to the angel. “I’d actually like to thank you for that.”

“Eh?” This plot keeps twisting itself like a coiling snake.

“He was a good-for-nothing heir. In fact, I’d like to reward you.”

“Uhm, actually, I was the one that killed him, haha,” Fantastasia scoops up all the credit before Dezechiel has time to recuperate from the sudden change of events.

Reiketsu Hen raises an eyebrow, then walks over to the girl. “Very well. I trust you.”

Fan-Fan air fist pumps. Only in her mind though, since she’s still tied up.

“Y-You know, there’s this brand I really like. It’s called Louis Python. On another note, I just so happen to be in need of a purse…”

“I shall bestow upon you the highest honor available to me,” he interrupts her without hesitation, “the chance to kill me in battle.”

Eh?

“Ah, on a second thought, I think it was Dezechiel that-”

“I recognize both of your contributions towards this great riddance, so both of you will be taking me on in a formal fight.”

“Eeeeeh?”

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Nope, nope and NOPE. Battling a clan leader who can level an entire rice field with a single blow is NOT on the top ten ways to spend your first day in a holiday resort.

Dying an honorable death? That’s more like the top ten WORST ways. Dying next to a cute girl?
Ok, that one is actually like number 7 on the list of best things that could happen for Dezechiel, but since he’s weird, we politely disregard his opinions.

Fantastasia’s knees are shaking so hard you’d suspect she needs to pee. Wrong. The tatami mat from before knows more about that.

Dezechiel smirks. After all, he is nigh immortal. There is no way a mere mortal could even hope to injure him.

Nekketsu Hen in a race queen outfit stands in the middle of the battlefield. Between the Fantaschiel swimsuit duo and her unorthodox outfit, you’d think some sort of beach drifting event is about to take place.

“Ready, set,” the black-haired woman of the Hen clan counts them down, “go!”

The moment she finishes the last syllable, Reiketsu, her grandfather, dashes right at the unassuming angel. With a single slash, he sends him flying across the room.

Dezechiel feels like a ball making its way across the football field. In the Premier League, that is. That force he just got hit with sure as hell doesn’t feel amateurish.

He realizes one cruel thing. That man probably has what it takes to kill him. And even if he doesn’t, it’s still gonna hurt like shit.

Fan-Fan understands the type of position they’re in. It’s called defenseless.

“Snow lily of hell,
freeze- ah!”

She has to interrupt her chant. She’s among the taller girls. And being a head shorter would drop her below the minimum height requirement to become a model.

“Magic, huh?” the old clan leader’s voice blasts her ears at point blank range while she struggles to push his blade away. “Then, let me showcase something of my own.”

From his right, Dezechiel is already swinging at him. There’s no time to dodge.

“Hen.” His voice changes the way air flows in the room.

The old man disappears. And Deze appears in his place. He haphazardly cancels his attack that suddenly switched targets, stumbling and falling over, right on the bewildered Fantastasia.

The following can only be described as ’the Rom-Com cliché where a guy falls on a girl’ position. Skipping the verbal exchange that ensued, the net profit of this interaction between Deze and Fan-Fan is a red handprint on the angel’s face.

“The two of you are out of sync,” Reiketsu Hen mentors them. “You can’t defeat me like that.”

He is correct. And proceeds to prove it by simply swinging his blade.

The air current created by that singular movement swipes both of them off their feet. Dezechiel manages to get back on his feet with a roll, instantly forced to repel his opponent’s attack. His blade lights uuup… on a second thought, it doesn’t. Traditional Okichiwawan homes aren’t known to be fireproof.

“Aaah, I lost a lense somewhere,” Fan-Fan keeps patting the floor with her palm. The sight of a demon girl, one eye blue, the other red, does two things.

Firstly, it awakens a newfound appreciation for heterochromia within the angel. And secondly, it gives him an idea.

“Hey, you gimmick portable freezer, can you cool down the air so that I don’t burn the place down?”

Fan-Fan fumes. “Haaa? Like I’d do anything for you-”

The angel flies by her at sonic speed. Or rather, he was flung across the room again. A subsequent horizontal slash almost shortens her hair by two inches.

Spears should have an innate advantage against swords. After all, they have a greater effective range.

However, Fantastasia is seriously reconsidering that theory right now. Because she’s getting her ass handed to her.

Despite that, the statement remains true though. This situation is what one would call a ’skill issue’.

She gets saved by the angel who once again rejoins the fight. This time, he doesn’t give a shit about the Fire Safety Act.

“Just do it! Or else, we’re going to die!”

Fan-Fan bites her lip. She hates this kind of treatment. Alas, she can only oblige.

“Snow lily of hell,
freeze what you must, what you will.
Cover all hell in ice.”

She really really really hates using this one. Brings back some nasty memories. Not the kind involving Dezechiel though.

The angel smirks. He can go all out now.

“This will teach you a lesson,” he whispers. His blade heats up to the point of becoming a lightsaber- whatever that may mean. Flames radiating in all directions around him, he charges at his opponent. Between the two layers of blue ice on the floor and the ceiling, he kind of looks like the flag of Argentina.

Reiketsu Hen swings his blade. The air current snuffs out not only all of the angel’s fire magic fuckery, but also his will to live. Alongside these demerits, it sends him flying across the room for the third time.

Fantastasia charges at the distracted clan leader from behind. Surely, she’s got him this time- his back is turned against her.

Surely, if they manage to synchronize this much, they won’t lose. Surely…

And just like that, surely, her attack is repelled without the old man even turning in her direction. A wave of heat from his behind pushes her back enough so that she can’t reach him.

Within a second, her opponent is up in her face. He smashes her spear into the ground, then steps on it to disarm her. Her weapon ripped from her hands, she tries to quickly conjure up some ice magic and freeze him in place, but another wave of air rips right through the frozen shackles and knocks her breath out.

Ah, this is like, really bad. The vigorous clan leader is charging right at her, his blade sharpened to the point where you can’t even see the edge.

And right now, she can’t see it at all. Eh? Doesn’t that mean he’s swinging right at her head at this very moment?

For some inexplicable reason, she gets an inkling. Maybe it’s because her ice cold heart can feel the changes in air temperature, maybe it’s because she’s spent some 300 years with him.

Reasons aside, she steps to the left.

And right after she does, a wave of flame engulfs the old man and the spot she stood on milliseconds ago.

Her vision gets filled with kaleidoscopes the moment this happens- it’s like looking straight into the sun at high noon. She has serious doubts she would have survived that.

Reiketsu Hen, the battle-scarred clan leader of the Hen clan, emerges from the flames. For him, this is just another small mark the battlefield will leave on his body.

“Hoo, looks like someone just got serious,” he smiles with passion in his eyes, turning his back to the demon girl as if she ceased to exist.

The angel’s friendly expression is completely disconnected from the power he just showcased. All the tension evaporated from his body, he walks towards his opponent at a leisurely pace.

“Be not afraid,” he speaks, his eyes gleaming with a golden shade.