Cigarettes & The Nursefather (after battle)

Refrain from any deviations from the plan... Has my humble self neglected to impress upon this matter many times?

See? Fascia has begun to pulsate.

I haven't seen Fascia tremble like so in a long while. Why don't you give her some time to chat?

This plan involves no outward expression of such selfish desires.

The "plan" that involves only the observation of the warming, reddening flesh while our own heartbeats slow...

That plan isn't to Fascia's liking. Her tendons have tightened.

Yet, we must learn to remain tranquil before these common beats if we are to adhere to the wills of those who are our masters.

I've always been so curious of the Maestro's child, forever-lost...

Why not let us at least prepare a maquette?

... It has become apparent that this glorified executioner does not know her place; clearly, it is about time her branches are pruned.

With that, the man who stood in our way leaped toward the pulsating greatsword of flesh and delivered a powerful strike.

This may be our stroke of fortune... It seems that, in the chaos, our presence has slipped their minds.

<... Ah! The Golden Bough!>

Feeling a dull pain squeezing through the grooves of my mind, I turned toward the spot from which the sensation surged forth...

…….

... and saw Ryōshū standing there.

In her eyes burned hatred and fury, a glare that would easily have had me believe that she would unsheathe the sword from her back at any minute.

At the receiving end of that glare...

…….

... was the veiled figure, who'd been watching our battle without a word.

The Pinky's Nursefather... simply stood there, meeting Ryōshū's wrathful gaze as she did in the fragmented memories.

Then, she withdrew into the shadows, the darkness slowly eating away at her shape...

... before disappearing from our sights.

Dante, have you found the Golden Boughs? We must -

<No...>

<We were too late.>

I felt the dull pain in my head lift as I pointed at where the veiled person stood.

The Golden Boughs that should've been there... were gone.

What remained in their place...

... were dozens of cigarette butts, the same kind that Ryōshū smoked, piled up like a thick layer of dust.