[Sage]

Jeanne stood for a moment, her arms held stiffly at her sides, but when she realized that the creature had no interest in her, she took several steps backwards and just listened.

For a while she took in information - the name of the not-man was Kezdeja - and gauged the responses of the others. Shealtiel's open hostility to the Nephilim intrigued her, as did Lev's disrespect. The theurge didn't know much about the Nephilim, but the constant push at the back of her mind made her highly suspicious. She was about to speak when the sound of gunshots filled the air and forty men fell to the ground.

With a gasp that was buried beneath Na'lsa's loud protests, Jeanne was about to rush forward when Lev beat her and began to devour one of the bodies. The Saint she had wanted to preserve, but even if these men had been slaughtered without reason, they were bandits. Her grip tightening on the sword, she looked around to see Fee walk as if in a daze to the back of the APC and Dante's head follow. As much as she wanted to go comfort her friend, it seemed as though he was about to do the same thing, so she stayed where she was.

With Lev's proclaimation, the theurge sighed. There was something inherently wrong about him, she knew it, but she couldn't make up her mind on whether or not he was an enemy.