DMC4: The-Devil's Arm

La Porte de L'Enfer

The cathedral hall looked like a scene of several natural disaster aftermaths. There was not a single piece of furniture left whole. Great gouges were left in the tiled marble floor. The once proud statue of Sparda still stood, but missing his hands, face, and bits of his arms. The blood drenched slit where the assassin hung leered like a third eye in it's gut.

Nero surveyed the wreckage, impressed with the aftermath of his abilities and of Devil Bringer's. He had found some more bandages to wrap it, though he didn't bother with the sling. If Credo knew that he held off the assassin for as long as he did, he would know that Nero was more capable than he appeared. Adding the sling would only cast suspicion where he didn't want it.

Credo stood beside him, hands clasped behind his back, staring deep in thought at the mangled statue. He was still wearing his worship regalia. No one had a break to do anything but plan and clean. For the past half hour, knights and worshipers alike had been moving wreckage out of the cathedral. It would be a while before it was all gone.

"So, you ever seen anything like it?" Nero asked Credo as the Holy Knights carried the last of the remains of the fallen knights from the cathedral.

Credo shook his head. "No, I haven't. I suspect he isn't human."

"You got that right," Nero replied dryly. "Guy took a blade through the heart and barely blinked."

"Did the assassin reveal anything to you? Let anything slip about his goals?"

Nero almost relayed the few words they had spoken to each other, then stopped. The assassin had said that they were the same, and had seen the Devil Bringer. Credo didn't need to hear any of that.

"No, didn't speak a word," Nero said slowly. "So uh, how's the situation in the city?"

Credo's usually dark features went darker. Nero saw that the death of the old man hit him hard. Credo was extremely devout, both in worship and in duty. He wasn't going to take this lightly.

"The community is in disarray. His Holiness is dead, the festival has been canceled, and a fifth of my best regiment has been destroyed. How do you think the situation is?"

Nero held up his arm, surrendering. "Okay, sorry I asked."

Credo's features relaxed a bit, though not by much.

"I'm needed at headquarters. Those who didn't witness todays events will need to be brought up to speed."

"What, so we just gonna let this guy go free?" Nero asked almost angrily.

"I didn't say that. We've already had a few reports. Witnesses have reported seeing him near Fortuna Castle. I want you to apprehend him."

Nero grinned broadly. Music to his ears.

"Thought you'd never ask."

Some of the knights that were coming and going thought to bring a few munitions cases with them. Nero replenished his rounds for Blue Rose. He stocked up on a few extra speed loaders, grabbing a few belts worth.

Blue Rose was a bit of Nero's own ingenuity and Order technology. A bit larger than standard magnum revolvers, Blue Rose sported twin over and under barrels. It's polished metal shone almost like a mirror, thorned stems etched into the barrels and cylinder. The trigger was ringed, making for controlled firing, and the handle was a solid cherry oak, shined to a mirror finish like the metal. Truly, a work of art. It was a pity that the Order didn't consider guns "honorable."

Kyrie returned dragging some obscenely large black case beside her in short, quick jerks. She gave a grunt of effort, then dragged it a few feet. Friction and weight overpowered her, and she stopped. She grunted again, pulling it a few more feet, then stopped. Her face was beet red, and she had broken into a light sweat.