The arctic wind howled with glass-sharp edges. Serena's frost-coated wings crunched over the altar steps. "Welcome to the ass-end of the world—" She kicked aside a half-buried paladin skull. "—and mommy dearest's clone outlet."
Dragonblood corpses hung frozen from chains in the vaulted ruins. At the central altar stood a serpentine dagger—its blade engraved with reverse-scale patterns. Ellen's mechanical spine sparked, her starlit scales jagged in the cold. "Mass anomaly... around the dagger..."
As Garret reached for the hilt, the ruins trembled. Pale figures crawled from ice fissures—Holy Corpse units in sanctified armor, their visors echoing Elaine's voice: "Leonard... my child..."
Frost crusted Raine's scaled vambraces. Each clone moved with his mother's tells: the defensive gap at the third left rib, the finger-twitch before sword swings, even the ruby birthmark on their throats.
"Wake up!" Serena's wings whipped up a blizzard, her shredded dress flapping. "Shred them!"
Ellen's scales detached, forming an electromagnetic cage around the dagger. Her mechanical irises telescoped into crosshairs: "High-frequency pulses... the Church is rewriting..."
A clone's blade pierced Raine's shoulder. "Why betray us?" The mother-faced visor wept. The Dragonheart Blade's scream died in his throat as his shadow-self whispered: "You'll never strike true."
When Serena's fingers brushed the dagger, reverse-scale engravings lashed out, gashing her forearm. Black-asphalt blood dripped onto snow, revealing Dracula's slave brand—Ⅲ entwined with thorns.
"Surprise?" Dracula's spectre oozed from her wound. "You're my third masterpiece."
Garret's mutated form rampaged under the pulses, bone-spikes impaling clones: "Raine! Grab the damn blade!"
Ellen lunged to the altar base, her scales resonating with the dagger. She ripped open her chestplate, exposing a pulsating data-core: "Scan shows... dagger's molecular structure... matches Selena's mitochondrial DNA!"
Clones knelt simultaneously, visors dropping to reveal Elaine's smile: "Leonard... the honey biscuits in the church cellar... I saved them..."
As Raine's Blade pierced a clone's heart, its icy hand caressed his cheek. No blood—only frost geysered forth, freezing the sword in the corpse.
Serena snatched the dagger, slashing her wrist. The brand's thorns ensnared Dracula's spectre: "Failed quality control, old man."
The ceiling collapsed, moonlight refracting through ice prisms to silhouette a massive Church airship. Clone remnants rearranged in the snow:
「Deicide Progress: 97%」
Ellen's scales regressed into her joints: "Dagger's backlash... corrupting my core..."
Serena tossed the bloodied dagger to Raine, thorns biting her neck: "Stab the airship. Or me." She licked asphalt blood. "Or... ask your canned mommy?"
Beneath the ice, machinery roared to life. Thousands of dormant clones opened their eyes.