Kazuki stood atop the shattered battlements of Brisken Hollow, pressure washer in one hand, purification glyphs dancing around his shoulders. Thryxx, Mold Mage and high priest of rot, writhed below—cracked, burning, one fungal eye bursting in steam.
Victory was in reach.
One final spell.
One word, and the moldstorm would collapse.
"ABSOL—"
He stopped.
The battlefield trembled—not from magic, but from a single scream.
Lila.
His childhood friend, confidante, and battle strategist—dragged into view by two sporeknights. Pale. Gasping. Wrapped in glowing decay runes. A pulsing fungal core embedded in her chest like a second heart.
Thryxx's voice oozed with triumph:
"Go on, Saint. Cleanse me.
Let's see how sterile your soul feels when she dies screaming."
Kazuki faltered.
For the first time since the invasion began, his hands shook.
The Betrayal
Then came another blow—one he hadn't prepared for.
Sir Elrin Naelbright stepped forward. His once-silver armor now bore tarnished stains, repainted with the ochre sigil of the Kingdoms of Grime. The crowd gasped. The other Knights of Hygiene froze.
"Don't do this, Elrin…" Kazuki whispered.
"I have to," Elrin replied, voice steady. "You stopped being a savior the moment you made cleaning a commandment."
"We were helping people—saving them."
"You were forcing them to be saved."
The elven knight raised his sword and turned it—pommel down. A formal renunciation of oaths.
"Cleanliness without choice is no different than infection.
You've become what we fought."
Collapse
Kazuki did the unthinkable.
He dropped the Holy Pressure Washer.
He stepped back.
He surrendered.
Brisken Hollow fell again—not to might or mold, but to doubt.
Lysoloth roared in mourning, retreating with the wounded Sanitation Vanguard on his back. The Purify Cannon, overloaded and half-melted from the last blast, cracked and fizzled. Steam hissed from broken virtue coils.
The sky wept rain—not cleansing, but heavy with pollen and spores.
Aftermath
The world watched in silence.
Kazuki vanished, taking only Lila and the fractured remains of his faith.
Thryxx claimed Brisken Hollow, raising fungal towers from soapstone ruins.
Sir Elrin became a controversial icon—praised by rot cults, mourned by hygiene loyalists.
The chant once shouted from rooftops—"Saint Kazuki!"—now faded into whispers and graffiti.
But in remote corners of the world, children still played with toy mops.
And one phrase lingered:
"He'll come back.
You can't keep a saint in the dirt forever."