Sinning Puppets

The weather in the forest shifted dramatically. Massive trees loomed above, and a torrential rain began to pour. Darkness consumed the area, the only illumination coming from a strange violet light that bathed everything in its glow.

Everyone stood in stunned silence—except Faithless, who was growling internally with rage. He had anticipated something like this, ever since the events of the ancient dream.

"Another terrifying enemy. What the hell is Isaac planning now…? Does he want to kill us all? And we can't even use our full powers because of the seal he placed." Faithless muttered to himself angrily, eyes fixed forward.

With a single blink, Circora appeared in front of him, holding his chin with a smirk and speaking in a mocking tone:

"Truly. You look much prettier up close."

He swung his wooden sword, but she had already placed a red thread around his neck and flung him toward the trees. Everyone was frozen in shock, but Tawakizura reacted quickly and attacked her from behind.

Circora moved two fingers, and a thread appeared. She yanked it, throwing him to the ground. Marianne placed her palm on Circora's face, but Circora moved a single finger backward, dodging her grasp.

"What? How did she move back that fast?" Marianne gasped in disbelief.

Meanwhile, Marceline pounded furiously against the invisible prison surrounding her.

"This damn wall, I want out of here!"

Suddenly, the prison opened in an odd way, and three people emerged. Faithless appeared from the trees, holding his head. Marianne turned to him, her voice tinged with concern:

"Are you okay?"

He responded, gently tapping his head:

"Nothing to worry about. Just a minor headache."

Tawakizura stood up, clutching his stomach, and spoke in a deep tone:

"Seems like another test from Master Isaac. But how are we supposed to stop her without our powers?"

"Ah, so they all know Isaac's training tricks. That's good," Faithless thought to himself.

Elsewhere, Julene launched a savage attack like a cat chasing a mouse. Circora dodged with ease, laughing. Eric and Marceline flanked her from both sides, but she moved six fingers, trapping them in red threads and hurling them toward the trees.

One of them slammed hard into a tree, the other crashed into the ground.

"Tch, that bitch… How the hell are we going to get through those filthy threads?" Marceline growled, clutching her stomach.

Eric rose, holding his neck, and spoke in a cold voice:

"This test has multiple meanings—one of which is fighting as if we still had our powers. That's probably what Isaac wants us to learn."

"I agree with Eric. Every training holds deeper meanings," Julene added sweetly, brushing her ears.

"Fighting as if we had our powers… what an illusionary trick," Faithless admired the thought.

Marianne charged forward, moving like blood rushing to the heart, aiming to strike. Circora clasped her ten fingers together, forming a wall that was nearly impenetrable.

But Tawakizura appeared, moving his sword in a deceptive motion. He noticed a thread sticking out and struck it with his sword hilt. Circora dodged, but a small scratch appeared on her back—insignificant, but a hit nonetheless.

"Ah, such teamwork. It makes me want to laugh… and dismember you all at the same time." Circora placed her hand on her cheek, her tone dripping with mockery.

"She's no easy opponent. We need to fight as a team to take her down," Tawakizura said sharply.

Eric came from behind, attempting to strike her head. Circora moved two fingers backward to catch him—but he disappeared for a few moments and reappeared underneath her.

Circora was surprised but managed to dodge again. Julene appeared, her hand shaped into claws, slashing toward Circora's face.

Black threads appeared, pulling Julene back, but she cut through them and attacked again, leaving a scratch on Circora's cheek.

"You little brat. You scratched my beautiful face," Circora said with a faint smile.

Marceline, Faithless, Tawakizura, and Marianne surrounded Circora from four directions. They attacked in unison, pouring their rage into powerful strikes, despite the seal on their powers.

Marceline grabbed Circora's face and slammed her elbow directly into it. Tawakizura swung his sword and struck her back. Julene emerged from below, scratching her chest.

Faithless clenched his fist tightly and punched her in the face, blood scattering like rain. Eric moved ghost-like, cutting her threads and striking her leg hard enough that the sound of cracking bones echoed.

Finally, Marianne placed her sword on Circora's neck, choking her, and Faithless kicked her down to the ground.

Everyone was panting heavily from the rapid attacks. Julene smirked and wiped her nose:

"She didn't even know where the attacks were coming from. I scratched her chest and she didn't even notice."

"She was so proud of her beauty, now her face looks like a smashed tomato," Marceline said with a light laugh.

Eric leaned on a tree, placing one hand over the other and lifting his index finger as he yawned:

"How boring. I expected a stronger opponent."

Faithless placed his hand gently on Lady Marianne's shoulder and said in a soft tone:

"Your fighting style is like the dance of blood flowing through the body."

Marianne smiled at him and replied:

"And your way of fighting is like a man lost, desperately seeking salvation. It's what sets you apart… and fits your name."

Faithless smiled back, but Tawakizura sensed something off. It didn't feel like it was truly over.

"Save the joy for later. Something's wrong. Even after we killed her, no portal appeared to take us back to our real world," he said sharply.

"That's true… Could there be someone else?" Marceline asked, placing a finger on her chin.

"There's no one else but me, you brats," a voice said, stunning everyone. A mysterious figure walked past Faithless—it was Circora.

Everyone stood in utter shock. She grabbed the body lying on the ground—it was a puppet, held together by glowing blue threads.

"Poor thing. Look what you did to her face," Circora said sarcastically.

She moved her thumb, and a violet thread appeared, wrapping around the doll and burning it instantly. She stretched her arms wide, black threads erupting from her body, entangling everyone and binding them tightly.

"Your teamwork is quite exciting… makes me want to kill you even more. But I always prefer torture before death," she said, placing one hand on her cheek and the other around her stomach.

Then, smiling, she continued:

"The real fun hasn't even started yet… my friends are eager to meet you."

"We were fighting a puppet the whole time? Damn… This reminds me of when A laughed at King Kradel," Faithless thought grimly.

"You filthy coward, stop hiding behind your damn threads and fight like a real woman!" Marceline shouted angrily.

Circora walked up to her, gently holding her chin, smiling with her eyes closed:

"This is my way of fighting, little one. I'm not a fan of swords."

She turned her back to them, placing her thumb and middle finger together before snapping her fingers and saying:

"The next journey awaits you."

Black threads pulled them into the ground as if they had fallen into a magical pool. Circora grabbed a short white pillar, transformed it into a chair, and sat down while toying with a metal piece in her hand.

"The clown who makes fools laugh, and the manipulator… they share the same madness but follow different philosophies."

The six of them reappeared in different locations. The first group found themselves in a vast and grand palace hall, with only one massive visible door through which they could see an upside-down, darkened sky.

Tawakizura slowly opened his eyes to find Julene and Marceline lying on top of him. He gently moved them aside and stood up, holding his back.

"Man, I'm only twenty and my back already hurts like this. I must be getting old," Tawakizura said in a sarcastic tone.

Julene woke up, pushing Marceline off her, a mocking expression on her face.

"Dear god, you're heavy."

Marceline placed her hand on Julene's neck and lightly patted her head.

"Who are you calling heavy, huh? You weird-eared freak."

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean you…" Julene choked as she patted Marceline's hand, trying to loosen her grip.

Tawakizura smiled as he looked at them and spoke calmly:

"That's enough, Marcy."

Marceline let go of Julene's neck, and Julene collapsed to the ground, clutching her throat.

"She's like a raging beast… like a bull," Julene muttered weakly.

Marceline glared at her, but Julene quickly backed away. Marceline looked around, placing her hand on her hip and speaking in a surprised tone:

"What is this strange place? The design is like a haunted mansion."

"Indeed. It feels like some hidden creatures are watching us," Tawakizura said in a deep voice.

Then he added with the same tone:

"And it seems our wooden swords are gone. We'll have to rely on our fists now."

At that moment, a group of strange creatures descended from the ceiling, as if they were melting ice. A barely visible thread connected to their necks.

Their bodies were puppet-like, their expressions cold, with eerie smiles. They had long black hair, violet eyes, wore black blood-stained shirts with gray pants, and wings made of threads. Each held a long, sharp sword.

"Marionettists… I didn't expect to face such heretical puppets. What kind of training is this, oh saint?" Tawakizura said with awe and fear in his voice.

"Mario-what? Who the hell are these creatures you're talking about?" Julene asked, confused.

"The persona that Circora embodied is someone who manipulates puppets. 'Marionettist' is just a title given to her."

"You sure have a lot of knowledge, Professor Tawakizura," Marceline said sarcastically, smiling.

"Your humor's a bit misplaced right now, Marcy. It's time to enjoy ourselves… with our enemies." Tawakizura stepped forward, cracking his knuckles and rolling his neck.

"Oh, Tawakizura the maniac is coming out, hehehee," Julene giggled, placing four fingers over her mouth playfully.

One of the puppets moved, its head spinning 360 degrees before slowly realigning. It raised its sword forward and spoke in a cold voice, smiling blood:

"The sinners do not deserve life. The heretic does not deserve life… So, who deserves death?"