“Leaf?”
The term was just as unfamiliar to Ryosho.
Did something called a Leaf even exist in the world of the Saints?
“As the name suggests, it’s battle armor that can only be worn by evil spirits that cannot be laid to rest or attain Buddhahood!” Deathtoll puffed out his chest and declared proudly.
Ryosho gradually recovered from his initial shock.
If the fake “Saga” and Deathtoll had been resurrected by the same entity, then this so-called Leaf was nothing to fear.
Deathtoll himself was nothing to fear either.
Their strength fell far short of that of true Gold Saints.
Ryosho looked at Deathtoll.
“So, Deathtoll, even after you died, you were unable to attain Buddhahood and became an evil spirit wandering around the entrance to the Underworld?”
“That’s about right.” Deathtoll nodded, though the way Ryosho phrased it sounded rather strange.
What did he mean by being unable to attain Buddhahood and becoming an evil spirit?
Still, never mind.
In his current state, he really was an evil spirit.
“So, Deathtoll, did the Pope send you here to take my life?” Ryosho continued.
Deathtoll had ambushed him during his battle with Misty, so it was difficult not to suspect that the Pope had secretly sent him to help Misty kill him.
“The Pope?
Which one?
The former Pope?
Shion?
Or someone else?” Confusion appeared on Deathtoll’s hideous face.
“The current Pope of Sanctuary, of course.
Gemini Saga, the Gold Saint who killed the former Pope Shion and usurped his position.”
“Never heard of him.” Deathtoll examined his red-painted fingernails.
Never heard of him?
Ryosho frowned.
He studied Deathtoll carefully but saw no sign of lying or pretense on that hideous, shoehorn-shaped face.
He asked again, “Then who sent you here to kill me?”
“You nearly made me forget why I came.” Deathtoll looked at him.
“I’m here to take your life, kid.
Hurry up.
I don’t have much time.
Once I’m done with you, I still have to make a trip to the East!”
“See?
I’ve already prepared the coffins.”
“They seem to use barrel coffins over in the East!”
Ryosho followed Deathtoll’s pointing finger.
Among the many coffins stood ten wooden barrel coffins, presumably prepared for Seiya and the others.
Deathtoll picked his nose and said impatiently, “All right, all right, kid.
There are plenty of coffins here, so choose one yourself.
That way, I won’t have to do it for you.
You wouldn’t like that.”
Ryosho naturally had no intention of choosing one.
Still, this was a rare opportunity.
He needed to pry some information out of Deathtoll, but the man was clearly losing patience.
After a moment’s thought, Ryosho said, “I’ve long heard that the previous Cancer Saint was a fence-sitter.
During the last Holy War, you wavered between Athena and Hades’ Army.
Whose side have you taken this time?”
Deathtoll did not seem bothered by being called a fence-sitter.
He casually walked over to Omertà, the Coffin of Silence, and ran a hand across it.
“Then let me ask you something.
Are you good or evil?
Is Athena good or evil?”
“If your answer satisfies me, I’ll tell you whose side I’ve taken this time!”
Ryosho watched as Deathtoll leaned both hands against Omertà, the Coffin of Silence, and quietly opened it a crack.
The corner of his mouth twitched.
That sneaky old bastard.
Fortunately, Ryosho knew it was the Coffin of Silence.
Had he not known, the moment he uttered a single word, the coffin would have sucked him inside.
Then no one would be able to save him.
No matter what answer he gave, Omertà would suck him in.
Ryosho closed his eyes and ignored him.
“Oh, come on.
So you knew about it, kid.” Disappointed, Deathtoll closed the Coffin of Silence.
Ryosho thought to himself, Not only do I know this is the Coffin of Silence, I also know your red hair is a wig and that Cancer Deathtoll is actually bald on top.
“So, whose side have you taken this time?” Ryosho asked again after Deathtoll closed the Coffin of Silence.
“That’s none of your business.
I’m a very practical person.
I’ll follow whoever offers me enough benefits.” Deathtoll walked forward with a dismissive scoff.
Ryosho continued trying to provoke him.
“You really are scum.
I thought you had finally understood your duty before you died, but it seems that was all bullshit.
You’re completely unworthy of being one of Athena’s Saints.”
Deathtoll remained unmoved.
“That sounds familiar.
I seem to remember the previous owner of your Cloth saying the same thing about me.
Unfortunately, he died long before I did.”
Ryosho naturally knew whom he meant.
Suikyō, the previous Crateris Saint.
“Kid, you’d better put away those little tricks of yours.
Provoking me won’t work.”
“But I’ve run out of patience.”
“Since you refuse to choose for yourself, I’ll choose for you.”
“Judging by your accent, you seem to be Chinese.”
“Chinese people probably prefer this kind of coffin, wide at the front and narrow at the back.”
Deathtoll walked over to a coffin shaped that way, lifted it with one hand, and hurled it at Ryosho.
Ryosho raised one hand and caught it.
“Oh, not bad!”
“You actually caught something I threw.”
“So I suppose you’re satisfied with it.”
In an instant, Deathtoll appeared beside Ryosho.
“What?”
Ryosho’s pupils contracted sharply.
He had not expected Deathtoll to be so fast.
Deathtoll pressed a single finger against his chest.
Dazzling golden light erupted from the tip.
“Uwaaaah!”
Ryosho screamed as he was blasted backward and slammed heavily into the ground.
Deathtoll twirled around and skipped toward him.
He put his hands on his hips, bent down, and spoke in an unbearably smug tone.
“Hey, from the way you were talking, I thought you were supposed to be impressive.
Is that all you’ve got?
You’re much weaker than your predecessor.”
Ryosho’s chest burned as if he had been struck by a hundred-thousand-volt electric shock.
Without the protection of his Silver Cloth, he felt that the attack would have shattered every rib in his body.
This level of strength…
Ryosho looked up at the grinning Deathtoll.
He seemed far stronger than that fake “Saga.”
“What’s wrong?
Can’t get up?”
Ryosho’s expression turned cold.
He sprang to his feet and threw a punch at Deathtoll.
This was already his maximum speed.
It was close to the speed limit of a Silver Saint, five times the speed of sound.
Yet Deathtoll evaded it effortlessly.
In the same motion, he drove an uppercut into Ryosho’s stomach.
Golden light radiated from his fist, and Ryosho shot into the hillside like an arrow released from a bow, landing in a miserable heap.
“Too slow.”
“How could someone moving at that speed ever hit me, a former Gold Saint?”
Ryosho wiped the corner of his mouth and rose from the ground.
He ignited the Cosmo within him and said coldly, “Then take this.
White Lotus Ice Spear!”
Countless ice spears materialized from thin air and surrounded Deathtoll before converging on him at several times the speed of sound.
Deathtoll remained where he stood.
He did not even try to dodge.
Before the ice spears could touch his body, they shattered completely.
It was as though an invisible barrier surrounded him.
“How is that possible?”
Ryosho’s eyes widened at the sight.
“How could a tickle like that possibly hurt anyone?
This is what a Saint’s fist looks like.”
Deathtoll extended one finger.
“Cancer All Beauty Ken!”
Dazzling golden light burst from his fingertip.
A dense golden net immediately formed and closed in on Ryosho from every direction.
The golden net was reflected in Ryosho’s eyes.
There was nowhere for him to escape.
Worse still, the instant he saw the golden light, it had already struck his body.
Pff!
Pff!
Pff!
The golden light pierced through the Silver Cloth as though it were made of paper.
This was…
The Lightspeed Fist.
Ryosho stared at Deathtoll beyond the golden light as his body was lifted helplessly into the air, then crashed heavily to the ground.
His limbs went numb, and every bone in his body felt as though it had been shattered.