Re:Zero Arc 8
Edited MTL
“Berstetz, I am leaving this matter to you. Even if you die, hold your ground.”
“Yes, I wish for your safety too, Commander.”
That was the last conversation they exchanged.
Their relationship was one of businesslike servitude, and if asked whether it was a close bond they shared, the answer would be no. Yet he recognized her commanding prowess and demeanor, combined with the insight he had acquired over years, he endeavored to level her path and lead her to the throne that an emperor should sit on.
Even without explicit feelings of loyalty or passion towards her, it was a functional master-servant relationship. He could infer a hundred instructions from one, and even come up with a hundred and one. He was someone capable of recognizing and fulfilling the roles and responsibilities his abilities dictated of him.
Despite his lack of martial prowess and his unreachable position yearning for the empire’s wolf of the sword, he had merely lived a life scorned by others, unable to earn any respect. The fact that she had judged him as useful was worthy of his gratitude.
So, there was not a shred of false pretense in the last words they exchanged.
During the “Imperial Choosing Ceremony”, he had been ordered to hold his ground, even if it cost him his life, and he stood ready.
His last service was that of an old man who could not boast about being a wolf of the sword and was merely growing older. Even in a passionless master-servant relationship, he had the resolve to die fulfilling his role.
Yet, Beruschtez survived.
And, the master he had wished safety for lost her life.
Berstetz Fondalfon is still living in shame.
He has failed to fulfill his duty, chased the Imperatorial position that would lead the Empire to ruin, was unaware of the “Great Disaster” brewing behind his plots, and continues to live in shame, it being presumptuous of him even to call himself a wolf of the sword.
Unable to fulfill his duty, he continues to live in embarrassment.
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“What’s wrong, Commander Ralfon?”
“You don’t appear like your usual self, adoring Vollachia’s Imperial family?”
“Or could it be that someone like me, defeated in the ‘Imperial Choosing Ceremony’ is not to your liking?”
The same words spat out from different mouths, and countless golden eyes stared at him. Goz Ralfon, clad in armor of a similar golden hue as their eyes, gritted his teeth and distorted his face full of scars at the appalling reality reflected in his eyes.
With all his might, he delivered a staggering blow with his mace-spear. Flowing within him was the blood of the empire’s sword-wolf. He tolerated its deafening screams as he struck down Lamia, a member of the venerable royal family whom he saw as an enemy that needed to be defeated.
Tasting the soul-wrenching pain, Goz came to realize in the truest sense…
…that the “Great Calamity” was indeed the menace set to cause the collapse of the Vollachian Empire.
“Why…?!”
Goz clenched his teeth, and in front of him, Lamia—or rather, many Lamias—tilted their heads. The sight of their glossy orange hair slipping over their slender shoulders flamed up Goz’s inner fury.
“Why are you allowing such a thing?! There is no! There is no greater sacrilege! You’re making a mockery of Lady Lamia’s life!!”
Channeling his surging anger into his voice, his rising tears scorched away by his hot-blooded fury, Goz appealed to the multitude of Lamias. But in response to Goz’s plea from the depths of his being, all the Lamias uniformly pressed the back of their hands to their lips. And then, with a cheerful tone, they fired back,
“Don’t get it wrong, Ralfon. This isn’t something imposed on me by someone else, I did this myself.”
“What… did you say?”
“That witch is so stubborn. If you can regenerate from a shattered piece, why not regenerate before it shatters? There are plenty of vessels to be made, all that’s left is to dilute the source and fill it up. Once you get the hang of it—see, you can do something dream-like, like this?”
With an arrogant gleam, her pallid face bearing a blood-colored smile, Lamia Godwin revealed her devilish intelligence, unaltered from when she was alive, as she proudly displayed her multiplied existence with her spread arms.
“——“
Goz had no choice but to agree with Lamia, who claimed that it was like a dream.
A Lamia who kept increasing her numbers without limit, blaspheming her own existence by her own will, and each Lamia held the “Yang Sword,” a symbol of the empire.
This, if it really was the dream—nay, nightmare—that Lamia was talking about, what else could it be?
“Hey, Ralfon, you know, you can’t shatter dreams in reality. Admit it… why not come over to our side?”
“—. What do you mean?”
“It’s not a complicated matter. If you die, you’ll be in the same position as me and the rest of them. Why not join the winning side sooner, rather than later?”
Lamia, with her hands joined over her heart, holding firmly onto her sword, tilts her small head and invites Goz. Should one perish in battle, they would join Lamia’s army as an undead. It’s an event already happening on the battlefield but imagining it brings a tumult of unmeasurable mental strain.
Goz, who fervently holds onto his loyalty as an imperial soldier, sees his comrades, who he thought shared the same sentiments, falling and betraying their empire to join the enemy, not even doubting their actions. Just like Lamia Godwin, who had her sights set on the Emperor’s throne of the empire. What would come to fruition from this, would be an empire of the undead – without a trace of their former glory, the Sword Wolves’ empire.
“Your words are overwhelming, Lady Lamia!”
Goz squeezes his eyes shut, lifts his face and turns back towards Lamia. Confronted with Goz’s intense determination, Lamia raises her delicate eyebrows,
“You seem ready to refuse.”
“Though you show me great mercy, Lady Lamia! This Goz Ralfon! I intend to decline!!”
“As expected, a refusal.”
Lamia narrows her golden eyes at Goz, who is thinking about the phantoms he saw a short time ago with closed eyes.
A vision of himself, destroyed and reduced to an undead like Lamia, with a pale face and golden eyes, swinging his golden spear to annihilate the empire – he destroys that vision into pieces. He breaks it down, tearing away the entwining phantoms, and roars,
“I would like to correct what I said earlier! I mentioned that not all ‘Nine Divine Generals’ would do as His Majesty wishes! But I am His Majesty’s faithful pawn! No matter what the others are! I! I want to be just that!!”
Rejecting the idea of becoming the vanguard of destruction in death, he yearns to remain a living pawn of His Imperial Majesty. This is the existence of Goz Ralfon as the Empire’s Sword Wolf, the path he desires. He leaves deep critical thinking and creation of the ideals to the ruler, Vincent, and Goz desires to fulfill his role.
That is to say—
“I am the ‘Fifth’ of the ‘Nine Divine Generals’, selected by Emperor Vincent Vollachia himself! I am Goz Ralfon!!”
Raising his golden spear, he declares he will not back down even a step against countless Lamias. The next instant, after Goz proclaimed boldly in that roaring voice, Lamia and her group brandished the “Yang Sword” and charged at him. The radiant flame of Vollachia that would incinerate even souls upon a single touch.
Before it reached him, Goz’s muscles moved dynamically, and the battle-axe was swung away. “—Huff.” The unhesitating swing from Goz knocked out the leaping Lamia in a sweeping sideblow, striking together and laying out five others in mid-air, crumbling their soft bodies like pottery into a fine dust.
Having witnessed that powerful move, the remaining Lamia widened their eyes in astonishment and their expressions changed. They stared at the incredibly assertive Sword Wolf, cruelly smiling.
“No matter how bravely you roar, once you die, you’ll be my slave, hmm?”
“If that’s an inevitable outcome! Before I draw my last breath, I’d rather turn to stone! By not dying, I’ll exemplify my final loyalty to His Majesty the Emperor!!”
Swinging the battle-axe overhead, he took a decisive stance, not letting the Lamias gathering towards the head car escape. If the Lamia armed with the “Yang Sword” scattered throughout the connected dragon wagons, its sunlight might burn Vincent’s eyes. To prevent that. For that purpose, Goz Ralfon, the “Lion Knight,” roared furiously.
△▼△▼▼△▼△
“—Well, you seem to be pretty brave and determined, but too bad.”
Goz Ralfon, roaring with valor on the lead car of the dragon wagon, determined to keep them from disabling its movements.
His enthusiasm was impressive, but his hope of achieving it was far from fruition.
Regrettably, for the determined Goz trying to keep the undead Lamia from advancing, they’ve already reached other cars off the dragon wagon. It’s only natural. Even when multiplying, there’s no need to do so in the same place.
He hasn’t set such a constraint.
Goz’s fighting is not meaningless, but its contribution is low. And it’s needless to say the importance of occupying the strong Goz Ralfon’s hands in the dragon wagon, where only the ones playing an important role in the empire are on board.
“It’s a pity, but you’re not restraining me, Ralfon. I am the one restraining you.”
Lamia, who was heading for the central car while dampening the spirit of Goz battling against the “Yang Sword” alone, looked into the distance. In the distant sky, there was a figure of a werewolf battling against a massive evil dragon like dark clouds.
“Although Valgren being unusable was an unexpected turn, blocking him off was a great success.”
In the golden, narrowed eyes of the Lamia, the werewolf that seemed as powerful as Valgren stood out.
Even Goz, who happened to be one of the Nine Divine Generals, was undoubtedly one of the world’s most powerful. And yet, Goz was transcended by this werewolf, who stood toe-to-toe with the world’s strongest living being.
No – rather, the evil dragon was being pushed back.
It was not overpowered because its ability to heal surpassed the ferocious attack.
Shattered time and time again, it regenerated, the Shinobi unable to kill the dragon outright.
Merely not being killed was ludicrous enough on its own.
“But, it’s such a pity that werewolf is worthless even if he dies.”
“Can’t really ignore what you just said.”
Upon hearing the small sound of shoes, Lamia slowly turned to the barbaric voice.
From the same direction as Lamia, a blonde-haired boy – not a man – was standing there, glancing sideways at the battle between the evil dragon and the werewolf. Lamia let out a small snort and smiled at the boy.
“I thought you smelled like a beast, you’re a beast-man, aren’t you?”
“I wouldn’t want to hear that from a woman who smells like dirt. But, it’s not just about that.”
“—?”
“Women with the same faces, one granny is more than enough!”
The beast-man boy, who thumped his chest forcefully, caused Lamia and the other Lamias to narrow their eyes. They did not understand the meaning of the boy’s complaint. However, just like the current Lamia, the boy seemed to have experienced the same design of beings flocking in groups before.
And then…
“I’m not particularly chummy with that golden old man, but his voice is big… and among those that have come, you are probably the strongest!”
“——“
As soon as he bared his fangs and snarled, Lamia felt a change in the atmosphere.
It was like when each vehicle of the dragon cart system – if the whole line of vehicles were divided into five parts, Lamia was facing off against the boy in the third vehicle.
The changes were in the second and fourth vehicles, separate from Goz who was resisting in the first.
The roof of the second vehicle was enveloped in flames, and the fourth was frozen in a chilling wind.
Both were instances where different Lamias and the “Pruning Corps” were aboard the same vehicle.
Feeling this reality on her skin, Lamia held her hand to her mouth and laughed.
“So that’s how it is. Kingdom folk really don’t know when to give up.”
“How do you know that we came from Lugunica?”
“Just learning now, huh? I only asked because you don’t sound like a typical Imperial. How cute,” the Lamia said, with a smirk that seemed to mock him.
“No, not quite,” the boy disagreed, shaking his head. “You aren’t just trying to tease me.”
This wasn’t simply begrudging defeat. Nor was it the result of sharp perception. If anything, it was the boy’s intuition: an instinctual gift that allowed him to sniff out the truth.
The boy linked this instinct with the Lamia’s previous words in his mind.
“‘Believers’ are useless, and then you bite with disappointment about where I’m from…”
“That’s enough chatter,” she cut him off.
It was clear that this wasn’t a boy built for utilizing his intellect, but still, he tried.
Seeing someone struggle so earnestly with what did not suit him was exceedingly distasteful.
As Lamia shrugged her slender shoulders, another one sprung forth, slashing at the boy.
He ducked down low, evading the red blade and counterattacked, striking the Lamia’s abdomen with the back of his fist.
But another Lamia swiftly cut down the one he had knocked out. Her body split into two and caught fire, and through the blaze emerged a deadly thrust aimed at the boy.
With a short bark, the boy kicked off the roof and leapt into the air. Sliding through the sky, a corpse dragon closed in on him. The boy who sought refuge in the air was caught in the mouth of the deceased dragon.
That dragon, carrying the boy in its mouth, soared upward, attracting a swarm of other corpse dragons.
“Not just General Ralfon, but any child that needs to approach a ‘Yang Sword’ isn’t very compatible, you know.”
Lamia griped, tightening her grip on the “Yang Sword” that hadn’t yet swung, as the boy was swarmed by corpse dragons.
The flame of the “Yang Sword”, once drawn, burns until it consumes the soul. The effect of the cursed sword, which improved the physical abilities of the user, could even turn the pampered Vollachian royalty into top-tier fighters. And for someone who had devoted time to the art of the sword, the benefits were self-evident.
“Well, I’ve taken care of the stench of the beast. Now, to find my brother’s location…”
Just as Lamia was about to take a leisurely step out, an unexpected booming sound resonated above her head. Looking up, she saw a swarm of corpse dragons, clustered so closely together they formed a round ball, exploding in midair, scattering into pieces. And from within the scattering explosion emerged a figure starkly different from the slender and nimble boy she had been dealing with: an imposing, massive tiger.
In a sharp downward plunge, the huge tiger, who had swept away a flock of carcass dragons with the swing of its massive, log-like arms, made the roof of the dragon-wheel chain car squeak under its weight, and in an instant, it closed in on Lamia.
“——“
Turning around, Lamia slashed upwards with the “Yang Sword” from a lower position.
A brief moment of surprise was present. However, its size had increased due to its beastly transformation. Against a user of the “Yang Sword,” wherein even a mere graze would lead to victory, it was an unwise move.
The huge tiger lunged forward hunching over, its abdomen being carved by the “Yang Sword” in one go――,
“――Ah!”
“――Oh?”
The tip of the “Yang Sword” scraped a sound of metal, and Lamia’s golden eyes widened. The charging huge tiger did not swing its thick arm at Lamia, but thrust its claws into the roof half a step ahead of Lamia, forcibly ripping it off and using it as a shield.
Lamia’s sword stroke slid over the top of it, and the opposing arm of the pivoting huge tiger struck her down.
The impact tore off the upper half of Lamia’s body, and her shattered form was knocked out of the carriage.
The huge tiger exceeded Lamia’s expectations. However, just like with Goz, it was futile.
“Even if I die”
Before hitting the ground, Lamia’s lips, turning into dust as they shattered, spun those words.
Even if this body dies, it would be regenerated like the other versions of herself. Moreover, the advantage of this regeneration is not just endless lives.
The next Lamia to resurrect would carry over all the experiences of this Lamia.
In other words――,
“——“
As Lamia started to plummet, she felt the hint of other Lamias and the “Pruning Troop” pouncing on the huge tiger, and with her cracking line of sight, she looked at the interior of the dragon-wheel chain car that was leaving her behind.
Inside that carriage, her eyes met with those of a person outside the window, who was gazing intently. Having confirmed which carriage the person she was looking for was in, she could carry that information over to the next Lamia.
“――Vincent brother, I found you.”
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“――Your Excellency”
Seeing the scene from the carriage window, Berstetz opened his usually narrowed eyes a bit and muttered.
Just now, the one who was thrown off the roof and shattered on the ground was unmistakably Lamia Godwin, who had been resurrected as a zombie.
Already, Berstetz had confirmed this fact with his own eyes.
Upon realizing that the vicious attacks against the train they were in were led by the “Pruning Squadron,” a unit he was very familiar with, he was fully aware that it would be spearheaded by Lamia. Yet, witnessing Lamia be shattered into dust profoundly shook Berstetz.
“I did want to confront her at least once, but not like this,” he muttered.
“Count of the Dragonkin…”
“Don’t look so grim, Chancellor. You saw the same thing, didn’t you? If Lamia, as integral as she was, gets shattered like that, it might just halt the Pruning Squadron—the private soldiers to her? It’s hard, however…”
“…”
“But I highly doubt that.”
Outside the carriage window, Selena, who casually shrugged at the sight of Lamia, the undead, meeting her end, wore a relaxed smile. As she expected, even with the fall of the greatly beloved Lamia, not a trace of hesitation appeared in the aggressive onslaught of the Pruning Squadron.
Considering the prior military discussion, death does not signify an end for the undead. Sphinx, the probable mastermind behind the “Great Disaster,” had used even death to aim for the downfall of the empire. If such a thing could have been achieved by a witch, what wouldn’t be possible for the “Poison Princess”?
Even without observing the unwavering spirits of the Pruning Squadron, it was certain that Lamia’s end was imminent.
“Lady Anastasia, you need to step back!”
A young man from Waso loudly raises his stern voice as he skillfully wields an elegant sword. His rainbow-colored slashes, similar to slicing through ice with heated steel, effortlessly cut through the sturdy black armor worn by the Pruning Squadron. Even Berstetz, lacking martial prowess, could understand that the prowess of this young man—Julius was nothing inferior to the bravest warriors of the empire.
“But even our Julius won’t be able to fight forever. We need to change the situation,”
While watching Julius’ valiant fight, Anastasia, adjusting her neck scarf, whispered.
Inside the carriage, Julius was engaging the pressing enemies. On the roof was Garfiel, who was also fending off foes. Along with the recent fall of Lamia, both the inside and outside were in the midst of fierce battles.
Every capable personnel, including the guards, were engaged in combat.
“Even so, don’t you feel like we’re being excessively targeted?”
“Do you think it’s because you’re with us? Your pained expressions on your chest, I can clearly see a mark there.”
“A mark…? Oh, really?!”
Ubilk, who had been led out from the confinement room, peered at his loose shirt and exclaimed in surprise.
As Anastasia had pointed out, a quick glimpse at his white skin revealed traces of red, swollen welts. Indications of an assault were apparent –
“Magic eyes that could locate the target … Could it be Lord Paradiso Manesque?”
“Look at this, all the contestants for the ‘Selection of the Next Emperor’ in one place? In that case, I would love to reminisce with Lord Bartloy, who kindly sent me flowers when I usurped the family headship from my father.”
The Magic Eyes of the heir of the Vollachian Emperor, who inherited the Blood of the Evil Eyes, Paradiso Manesque, latched onto the target. This was probably the reason why the “Pruning Squad” continuously targeted here.
As Berstetz speculated next to her, Selina, who was also fending off enemies with her sword, licked her lips and said,
“Whether we move away from this place or not, I wish not to die by wrongly choosing to go forward or back. If we were killed, the loss to the empire would be more than just its head but half of its body.
Although, I would be interested to know if there is any other path available for such an entity apart from death…”
“You should refrain from making such inappropriate comments. It’s one thing for an old man like me, but there’s no replacement for you or Lord.”
“Regardless of who it is, there’s no such thing as an irreplaceable human, Lord Chancellor. As presumptuous as this may sound, much like when you instated the Emperor’s agent for yourself.
Nevertheless…”
Selina, who never fails to retain her sharpness in any situation, pricked at Berstetz’s work in the capital. That’s when the situation took a turn. She had appeared from the direction of the option in the dilemma of which way to go — forward or back.
“Alright! So you guys were holding out here!”
“Natsuki-kun!”
Through the doorway connecting to the rear carriage – already broken by the onslaught of the “Pruning Squad” – a small figure tumbled into the passenger car where Berstetz and the others were. At the sight of the black-haired boy at the forefront, Anastasia raised her voice in a welcoming cheer for the reunion.
The ones who came in a hurry were a boy named Natsuki Subaru and a young girl in a dress, who was holding hands with him.
Accompanying them were a deer girl, a blonde girl, and two girls – identical with peach and blue hairstyles.
“Subaru! What happened to Lady Emilia?”
“Emilia-tan is fighting at the back! She’s freezing and reinforcing the carriages to prevent the enemies from entering, but if she went on, we would be turned into ice cubes too!”
“That sure is forceful… but, it’s the best move.”
Subaru pushed down the corpse-man breaking through the window, and responded to Julius, who questioned him. At the boy Subaru’s reply, Anastasia narrowed one eye and muttered something. Then, her light-blue gaze shifted to the boy’s back – to the blonde girl standing there.
“Oh huh…”
“So, the discussion is interrupted?”
“No, I’ve got my conclusion. It’s just the chance to tell everyone that’s interrupted. What about that Abel guy!? Doesn’t he have the same mark as me?”
As he said this, Subaru who was standing next to the blonde girl, revealed the breast of his clothing. And there, a worm-like swelling identical to the mark the “Stargazer” Ubilk bore, was clearly visible.
Seeing that, Ubilk who managed to catch sight of it exclaimed, “Ah!”
“See, I knew it! You’ve got the mark too! This means we’re both “Stargazers”, doesn’t it?”
“I told you it’s not like that! It’s not just me, poor Beatrice has the same one too! What’s the common factor!?”
“Probably, those who are seen as obstacles to the “Great Disaster” should be eliminated.”
This voice came from the opposite direction of where Subaru and the others had boarded from, through the corridor leading to the front carriage of the train.
The ones who made themselves visible were Otto, who had a strong presence even in military discussions, and a young girl who was actively involved in healing the soldiers.
At their arrival, Subaru who turned around to look was stunned,
“Otto! Petra! You’re safe! Sorry about earlier!”
“Let’s leave that discussion for later. Now we need to share crucial information.”
“The marks that Subaru and Beatrice are talking about, the master had them too! Right now, the master is attracting the zombies in the front dragon carriage but…”
“Even Roswaal has the marks…”
At the report from the girl called Petra, the pink-haired girl, presumably a relative of Rem lowers her eyes.
But, if in addition to Ubilk, Subaru and the girl called Beatrice, even the court magician of the kingdom has the mark, a faint understanding about the conditions of the marking is starting to unfold.
“Directly in the plain, meeting face to face with Sphinx were the Count of Mathers and Beatrice. And, those who stopped the surprise attack on the dragon carriage were you, Natsuki and the “Stargazer.”
“We can’t confirm it here but, there’s a possibility that the same mark was branded on Halibel who is outside battling the black dragon.”
“Also, our Emperor. It’s quite possible. Everyone mentioned in the prophecy plays an irreplaceable role,”
Serena quipped, concurring with the scholars’ discussion and Berstetz’s earlier comment. Berstetz shared the same opinion as Anastasia’s group. As long as the effect of Paradiso’s magic eyes persisted, countless assassins would continually be dispatched to their targets. However…
“Wait a minute. If your speculation is correct, I don’t understand why the same mark isn’t appearing on… Spica-chan.”
The one who raised her voice was Rem, who was hugging the shoulders of a little girl from behind. She has not been informed about the details of the importance of the girl she called Spica, but she has heard that her name was mentioned in Ubilk’s prophecy.
Therefore, there is no doubt that Spica is an important person for the Vollachian Empire — but…
“Spica, is it?”
Upon hearing Rem’s appeals, Otto muttered with a different sentiment than Berstetz’s.
Upon hearing Otto’s whisper, Subaru fixed him with a stare, his face serious.
“I’ve decided on my standing. I’ll prove it by how I live from here on out.”
“――. What a coincidence. I, too, have just decided on my footing.”
During their quiet exchange, one could only guess how many complex emotions were interwoven. Moreover, during this attack, it should be put on hold. Now, the most important thing is…
“We should act before the howling Garfiel on top of the head turns into a burned tiger.”
“Don’t use such a skewered-chicken analogy… But, what Rem said earlier also makes sense.”
When Subaru nodded at the words of the peach-haired girl and turned around, everyone’s gaze was on the girl named Spica. Faced with the intensity of their gazes, the girl grumbled and looked around with a perplexed face.
“If you believe in this ‘Stargazing,’ then that girl… Spica is the natural enemy of ‘The Great Disaster.’ So, why is she being overlooked?”
“――? Is that really so strange? I mean, if that man hadn’t told us about it, we wouldn’t have known either, right? Then, maybe it’s just that our opponent is in the same situation?”
“…does that mean, there are no ‘Stargazers’ among the undead?”
At the girls’ exchange of questions, Subaru murmured with a surprised face.
Looking over at the comment, Ubilk shakes his head weakly, his expression uncertain.
“No, I’m afraid not. I don’t know any more than you do about fate.”
“Then at least tell me… what about Spica could be the light you’re talking about? Just nominating and not explaining doesn’t seem responsible, don’t you think?”
“I’m sorry for being irresponsible.”
The conversation turns sour as Rem’s expression hardens at Ubilk’s blatant disregard. However, despite Ubilk’s dissatisfying response, the topic Rem has broached might be worth considering.
“With the current situation, our only option is to plunge into the fortified city in the rickety dragon-drawn carriage, all while protecting the ones who have been marked. That city is still under reconstruction, though.”
“I doubt we have much time to dawdle.”
Meanwhile, as they converse, the dragon-drawn carriage exposed to the “Pruning Troop’s” attacks continues to lose its form by the moment. If they stop moving, total annihilation is inevitable, as already discussed. Stopping this battle requires dealing with the commander – Lamia, presumably leading the enemy forces.
“—–“
Amid current circumstances demanding more than mere palliative measures, Berstetz notices Subaru, struggling internally, in his thin line of sight. The regret occupying his expression is because he seems to realize something and is hesitant to verbalize it.
In such a situation, the boy’s hesitancy to speak. His struggle differs from Selena’s unconsidered remarks, and its contents are…
“— Barusu”
“Natsuki-san”
Simultaneously, two people called out to Subaru. Like Berstetz, the two seem to notice the change in the boy’s expression. And they, who know the boy much in-depth than Berstetz, seem to comprehend his turmoil.
Subaru closes his eyes, acknowledging the intent in their gazes. Taking a deep breath, he steadies his expression and declares,
“—Spica’s authority might have a chance to break through the current situation.”
⚬⚬⚬⚬⚬⚬⚬
“Take this!!!”
Swinging the savage blade in his hands, Medium forcibly wards off the encroaching corpse-people. Her wide swing leaves her back dreadfully exposed, and it seems a large sickle from another corpse-person is about to crash down on her. However, a slender longsword intercepts its trajectory.
“Don’t you dare put your hands on me so easily, you big oafs!!” A boisterous yell, not only in voice but even in the slashing attacks, was exuded by a one-eyed soldier named Jamal. To cooperate with this Jamal, Medium was relentlessly fending off the undead, protecting Flop, Jamal’s younger sister Katya, and the uninvited guest Abel.
Even now, Medium halted an enemy’s advance with a frontal kick, beheaded them with her savage blade, and turned the undead into dust. Jamal too, severed enemy’s knees with his dual swords, skewered their chest and defeated them.
“Lady Imperial Consort! Please retreat and leave this to me!”
“I- haven’t- agreed- to- that- yet-!”
“Lady Imperial Consort! Please step back!”
“Ugh!”
Being treated with such respect, and such treatment which she wasn’t accustomed to, Medium couldn’t hide her confusion. Even during the previous discussions with Flop and Abel, it was like that.
Despite being cautioned by Abel, Medium had teamed up with Flop without hearing out his thoughts. Now thinking back, Abel had it right, she should’ve listened to the talk beforehand.
“If I did, then I wouldn’t have been so surprised…!”
“Sister! Worrying about it doesn’t suit you!”
“Who do you think is to blame, big bro!”
Channeling her anger into her savage blade, she braced herself against the large scissors lunged at her, and pushed back with pressures in her legs.
Medium didn’t lose to the force. A blade was thrust into the enemy from under her armpit, and Jamal, who had slipped around its back, pierced its chest and took it down.
Having done that, Jamal rubbed his dual swords in the air and said,
“Katya! Don’t stretch your neck out! I won’t let anyone get close to you!”
“Stop… I don’t care anymore… There’s nothing good about living anyway…”
“Don’t talk such nonsense! If you die, Todd wouldn’t be able to cope!”
“— Wha-, stupid big brother…! Say? You wouldn’t usually. Die! Just die!”
Katya, sitting in a wheelchair, started to cry at the mention of an unfamiliar name by Medium. To Medium, Katya seemed very pitiful. If it weren’t for this situation, as the sisters being manipulated by their brothers, she would have liked to listen to her story. But, there was no time for such leisure.
“Why indeed—”
“An empress, you say? That’s a statement that can’t be ignored.”
“Uh—”
“I wonder if you have the right to go alongside the best of the sword wolves?”
The one who tilted her head while she spoke was a zombified warrior, covered in her own black, murky armor, standing distinctively amidst the others. Even to a medium’s eyes, she was an exceptionally beautiful undead.
Had her skin not been ghostly pale and her eyes an eerie golden hue, she would’ve been nothing short of a stunning beauty.
Her overwhelming presence, whether originating from her past mortality or her current undead state, left Medium at a loss for words.
“Regardless of what answer that girl gives, it is utterly useless to the likes of you who are already dead.”
Therefore, the one who had responded wasn’t Medium. It was Abel.
At the front and back of the carriage, with Medium and the undead soldiers in between, Abel and the beautiful undead locked eyes. No, they gazed at each other.
“Oh dear, Vincent. As ever, you look so gallant… But have you lost some weight?”
“To think, just when I believed I would no longer be bothered by siblings, you and Paradiso here turn up. It’s inevitable that I might lose some weight on my cheeks.”
“Heh, well, you would wander in like this. You did save Prisca, didn’t you, brother?”
“……”
“Do you think you have the right to punish Paradiso and me, when you’ve ruined the premise of the ‘Imperial Conclave’? If they knew the truth, would anyone recognize such an emperor?”
Giggling softly, with a hand before her mouth, the undead princess sneered.
Her words made Abel’s black eyes flicker slightly. His eyes fixed on her, Abel spoke.
“There’s no need to ‘anyone’. I think Abel is the emperor!”
“I agree too, Emperor! There’s no need to listen to the words of the dead!”
Unable to hold back any longer, Medium and Jamal raised their voices, causing the carriage to shake.
At that the surprised comments from the pair, Abel’s eyes widened even more, and the princess squinted even further. She looked at Medium and Jamal with her distinct golden undead eyes and asked,
“Can you tell me if those soldiers over there know who I am?”
“Huh? So you’re royalty of Vollachia, but does that matter when you’re dead? The dead are losers, the living are the sword wolves! That’s the Imperial way!”
Jamal exclaimed with the simplest logic in the world and resumed his melee with the enemy soldiers.
At his vigor, Medium’s eyes widened, followed by a burst of laughter. Guffawing, Medium too, just like Jamal, reopened hostilities,
“Jamal, you’re cooler than Abel!”
“That’s high praise, Empress!”
With a wild grin at Medium’s praise, Jamal’s dual blades went berserk. All while, Abel’s face-off with the princess continued amidst the chaos of their combat.
At his princess’ slightly grim expression, Abel narrowed his black eyes,
“I sense a lot of ‘Yang Sword’ presences. It’s not just you, Lamia.”
“And if that’s the case? Are you glad to have more adorable sisters? Or are you not interested because she isn’t Prisca?”
“If you are using the mechanism of zombies to cause transcendent phenomena, why not bring them out before me?”
At Lamia’s mockery, Abel didn’t have a retort. Yet within Lamia’s silence, Abel found clues of his own accord. With his narrowed black eyes, observing the completely transformed sister,
“There’s a limit to the number. And the majority of them are being held at bay—Goz, perhaps?”
“You speak so casually about it, dear brother. If it’s true, isn’t Ralphon’s contribution to the military deserving of a medal? Poor thing, being content being a pawn—”
“—Which is why I chose.”
In a quiet tone, Abel cut off Lamia’s words. Abel naturally crossed his arms on the spot, confronting Lamia’s gaze and words head on.
“That’s one of the ‘Generals’ I chose. His work is simply of that caliber.”
After declaring so boldly, Abel continued, calling her name, “Lamia.”
And to the slightly wide-eyed Lamia, he said.
“I never thought of you as just a pawn.”
“……”
Lamia’s expression changed dramatically at his words. The woman, who’d previously only worn seductive, sadistic, or displeased expressions, wore a different face at Abel’s words.
Her golden eyes wide open, she bit her lip.
“—Vincent Vollachiaaa!!”
In the next moment, the facade of calm that Medium saw disappeared, and a completely different face took over. She fired up her golden eyes with a clear passion on her lifeless face, unleashing a radiant, crimson sword with the hand she held up in the air.
Lamia held the dazzling gleaming sword, stepped forward, kicked the floor, kicked the wall, slipped through the gaps of the corpses, and leaped at Abel.
The intensity of her swing, as if embodying flame or light itself, brightly illuminated the interior of the vehicle engulfed in corpses, threatening to obliterate Abel head-on.
Abel, facing the onslaught head-on, had the gleaming sword swung down at him.
“Abel!!!”
Medium, repelling the corpses with a leap, caught the sword with her barbarian blade.
There was a momentary stagnation, Medium’s barbarian blade melted, and the path of the sword remained.
“Your Majesty!!”
Just a moment delayed, Jamal, like Medium, used his twin swords to deflect the gleaming sword. This too, swallowed by the light of the gleaming sword, instantly vanished.
Having broken through Medium and Jamal’s obstruction, Lamia’s strike reached Abel. As it was, everything about Abel was swallowed by the red light, and Medium was about to scream.
At that moment.
“——-“
No one knew what had happened. Neither Flop and Katya who were standing behind Abel, pulling on Abel’s jacket, causing him to slump down onto the ground. Nor Medium, who was immensely pained thinking that Abel was going to die. Nor Jamal, who had a face of despair thinking that it’s already over.
No, the only thing evident was that Lamia’s stance had been disturbed, as if she had been struck by the wind.
△▼△▼△▼△
“You’re stubborn for being alive, Berstetz. —Hey, in terms of the “Imperial Selection,” I wonder who won? Vincent, or was it Prisca?”
—These were the first words thrown at him upon their reunion.
Reunion with the starkly changed master.
Though nine years have passed, the image of his previous self from the day before still came to mind vividly. Aging, it often becomes easier to recall things from the old days than the day before.
Hence, he understood the master’s change at a glance.
Her cracked pale skin, and golden eyes that no longer sought light, were akin to that of a deceased who forgot life itself. This could be inferred from her very first question. Her time, it had stopped. That was the only logical explanation. It had to be. The living and the dead should be separated.
Therefore-
“Stop the pruning!”
His parched throat shrieked, sending the order flying. Benefited by the “Wind Wall Blessing”, neither the strong wind that was supposed to blow, nor the intense shaking that should have come from the dragon carriage occurred, allowing his voice to carry far and high.
As soon as the order was heard, the movements of the corpse men armed with large scissors froze.
The “Pruning Battalion” immediately became still. It was hard to decide whether this fact was lamentable or commendable.
They entrusted their hearts to the “Poison Princess”, and were transformed by themselves into symbols of fear, cold-blooded creatures. They abided by their purpose and answered to the expectations.
But even in death, their bodies responded to the command from Berstetz Fondalfon.
“The time for the dead has stopped. Therefore, the battle of the ‘Selection Ceremony’ just yesterday for them… what has permeated their bodies will not fade.”
Even in death, they proved their way of continuing to serve their master.
“So then? You can only hold my beasts for an instant, right?”
“Yes. But thanks to that, you’re here.”
Turning to the voice behind him, Berstetz greeted her alone.
The dragon carriage had its roof and walls destroyed and had lost its original magnificence. Yet it carried the hopes of the empire, and thus, in one of the chain of dragon carriages, Berstetz confronted Lamia.
Confirming the reflection of himself in Lamia’s golden eyes, Berstetz exhaled.
“I have been waiting for you, Lady Lamia.”
“Yes, it seems so. But why are you the only one left?”
Tilting her head slightly, Lamia spread her arms wide and looked around the empty dragon carriage.
Other than Berstetz, neither Selena nor the kingdom’s members were present. Knowing there was a secret plan to stall Lamia and the “Pruning Battalion”, Berstetz stayed behind alone.
In fact, the “Pruning Battalion” experienced a moment of hesitation.
No more could Berstetz’s orders manifest their effect, but those who had jumped on this bandwagon, would have skillfully used the few seconds’ chance he created.
Thereby, Berstetz kept the promise he made with those who had gone before him.
“I’m not young enough anymore to declare that I can’t protect you,” he said.
“There’s no need to demean yourself like that. Nine years have passed since then, yet you haven’t changed a bit. Just the same as when I was dead,”
“— You’re right, Your Excellency,” Berstetz responded in a low, beyond hoarse voice, to Lamia’s teasing words.
Hearing this, Lamia furrowed her brows. Before her, Berstetz clenched his fist, in which his bones were palpable, and gritted his miraculously complete set of teeth.
Nine years had passed, yet nothing had changed. Lamia was right all along.
“Since that time, my time has also been frozen, Your Excellency Lamia,”
Berstetz murmured as he took a step forward.
A significant step, imbued with resolve. Once he took that step, he would take the next. With his aged body in motion, Berstetz continued to step forward.
“——–“
In response, Lamia’s golden eyes narrowed like she was speechless.
Time seemed to be moving slowly, too slowly. Not just to feel, but it was indeed slow. Compared to Julius and Garfield, who had been fighting to protect them until just moments ago, the progress was embarrassingly minimal.
He was a sheep that had painted its body black among a pack of wolves, turned into a crafty goat. Desperately flaunting his huge horns, indicating that even in a crowd of wolves, he had a role to play.
“—The ‘Yang Sword’”
In Lamia’s raised hand, the handle of the red sword sprung forth. Firmly grasped by her slim fingers, the emblematic sword of Vollachia was drawn. Its blazing, radiant, crimson sword that contained a conflagration seared Berstetz’s eyes.
It was a good thing his eyes were narrowed. Thanks to that, even if his eyelids got burnt, he could protect his eyeballs.
With such a mundane, worthless thought in mind, Berstetz raised his fist. A ring was embedded in that fist. The emblem of Vollachia’s Prime Minister.
A “Meteor”, packed with the power of the fire mana.
“I’ve seen it before.”
Already in the imperial city, already in the crystal palace, already in the throne room, Lamia’s cold gaze remained unchanged as she once again saw something she had seen before.
The inexorable advance of Berstetz, a once broken trump card, with their opponent possessing one of the ten demon swords with the world’s highest power.
“Sir,”
In less than a second, he knew he would be ruthlessly cut down, reduced to ash.
Still, Berstetz made the most of what seemed like the longest second in his nearly seventy-year life.
And once again, he made the suggestion to his master,
“We have… lost!”
As he spoke, Berstetz swung his clenched fist downward, aiming his ring at the floor.
Then he released “Meteor”, causing a swelling flame to burst at his feet, adding its momentum to the too-slow advance of the old man.
Fiercely, Berstetz moved his entire body to charge at Lamia.
Seeing him come forward, Lamia’s golden pupils were widened. In her widened golden eyes, Berstetz Fondalfon was reflected.
As she saw his face reflected, with her “Yang Sword” still raised, Lamia said
“So, you can make such a regretful face.”
In a long-serving, without deep interaction, master-servant relationship that had never shared each other’s inner feelings.
At the sight of the servant, who had never shown expression before, with a wrinkled face, thin slits for eyes that showed no pupils, and the figure of an elderly man who seemed almost tearful, Lamia’s hand stopped.
And then, Berstetz and Lamia’s bodies collided head-on.
Unable to mitigate the impact of the explosion, the two tangled bodies flew towards the wall of the passenger car. The same wall that had been blown open by the “Pruning Squad”, and they were hurled out from it.
Tightly, the old man’s fingers, akin to dried sticks, held onto the beautiful girl’s dress without releasing.
As they remained connected, both bodies were forcefully hurled outside the linked dragon carriages.
△▼△▼△▼△
The moment Berstetz appeared on the linked dragon carriages, countless Lamia Godwins were assaulted by the impact.
“….”
Lamias battling with Garfiel Tinsel, Lamias tangled with Roswaal L. Mathers, Lamias fighting Emilia, Lamias everywhere on the dragon carriage, all were simultaneously writhed in shock.
“Divine Protection” is a blessing that the life born in this world can receive, of which the details are not yet elucidated and many are shrouded in mystery.
There is one firm belief that many hold regarding divine protection – a belief rooted purely in perception. That is, divine protection affects the soul of both the benefactor and the beneficiary. Whether this fact is true or not remains unproven, but one thing can be stated for certain.
- That Belstetz Fondarfon was cast out from the dragon carriage along with one of Lamia Godwin’s companions – the moment they were no longer under the protection of the “Wind Ward,” it all happened simultaneously.
And then there was the moment when one of Lamia Godwin’s swung a sword at Vincent Vollachia. Medium O’Connell and Jamal O’Reilly failed to defend against the attack, and in front of Flop O’Connell and Katya O’Reilly, a tragical moment unfolded.
“—“
As if punched by the wind, Lamia, who had been readying the “Yang Sword,” was drawn backwards. Neither Lamia nor Medium knew what had happened at that moment. All they knew was that the tripped Vincent had stretched out his foot and kicked Lamia to the back – that was the only clear fact.
And then, behind Lamia, who had been kicked out, the door connecting to the adjacent vehicle was broken – and,
“——“
A rainbowed brilliance danced, and the “Pruning Troop” standing in front of the door was cut down. Three small shadows dashed through that rainbow light and rolled into the carriage.
One of those shadows raised its hand, and a soft light surrounded them, doubling their rolling speed. The middle shadow of the three, holding hands with the other two, voiced out.
“—Lamia Godwin!”
The scream of the black-haired boy, who had shown a high-pitched voice and connected both his hands with the girls on each side. The petite girl in a dress produced the light, the black-haired boy shouted out the name, and the third person who jumped in last stretched out her hand, which was on the side opposite to the hand holding the boy’s, —,
“—Iaaiuaiu”
—That hand, brushing against a flying back, stripped off the name “Poison Princess.”
