Episode 81
The capital of the Kingdom of Britannia was engulfed in flames.
Leading the charge was Lady Scarlet, a high elder of the Red Tower and a formidable 7th-circle red mage. Clad in their blood-red uniforms, the red mages unleashed their terrifying magic without restraint.
They were the Purifiers, the elite battle mages of the Red Tower.
With their identities laid bare, they reveled in their crimson attire as their red magic swirled around them.
“Turn to ash.”
“Turn to ash.”
The mages, sharing a single vision, began their incantation in unison. Flames descended upon the world, intent on reducing it to cinders.
Hellfire.
The harbingers of the unification war, the gods of war, the enforcers of the Empire.
These were the red mages of the Red Tower, and from the heavens, hellfire rained down.
It was a scene reminiscent of the world’s end.
And the only one who could have stopped this apocalypse, the 7th-circle white mage Archbishop Thomas, was no longer among the living.
The city was ablaze.
With a desperate resolve, the soldiers and citizens of Britannia fought to the last, but their resistance was futile.
The city walls fell, and the Empire’s forces poured in relentlessly.
Though not all of Britannia’s champions had vanished, the disappearance of the Saintess and the Archbishop, the kingdom’s core strength, rendered their efforts meaningless.
Before Lady Scarlet, the holy knights, and the Empire’s might, nothing held significance.
Once again, the city burned, screams filled the air, and in the chaos, military discipline meant nothing. Pillaging, violating, and burning, a hellish landscape unfolded.
It was then that a voice rang out.
─ People of the royal city of Reims! In the name of Charles VII, I address you!
From the distant royal castle, Charles’s magically amplified voice echoed.
─ We, the Kingdom of Britannia, will fight bravely to the last and fall with honor!
It was a declaration of unyielding resolve.
“Your Majesty Charles…”
Aurelia murmured weakly at the sound. The battle seemed pointless now. Yet, the unreliable Charles was shouting so desperately for the kingdom.
Even in this hell, he stood unbowed, risking his life to encourage the people of the capital.
“It was my foolishness…”
She felt foolish for having been momentarily swayed. She should have had more faith in her king.
It was then that Dale spoke.
“Do you truly believe that?”
The man who harbored such hatred for the Empire, paradoxically became the executor of its ambitions.
“I have something to show you, Saintess.”
Shortly thereafter.
In the Imperial camp surrounding the capital of Reims.
With the burning city behind him, Dale stood there.
In a grand tent prepared for the ‘supreme commander’ of the Imperial forces, he sat like a king observing the battlefield.
“As ordered, we have captured Charles VII.”
A soldier reported to him, as if on cue.
“Bring him here.”
“Yes, sir.”
Soon, a man was brought before Dale. He was a pitiful sight, devoid of any royal dignity.
“Ah, Your Majesty Charles.”
Dale called his name, and Charles VII’s face twisted in anger.
“You, you dare…! You deceived me…!”
“I did warn you.”
Ignoring the struggling Charles, Dale sneered.
“──If you desire peace, prepare for war.”
As if it was the most laughable thing.
“There’s nothing more unreliable than the peace promised by the Empire.”
”…!”
“And look at you, so disheveled.”
Dressed in rags, with no sign of a proud golden crown.
“The soldiers caught you trying to flee with a carriage full of luxury goods during the siege.”
A subordinate reported.
“Is that so?”
Dale chuckled coldly, as if he had expected it all along.
“So the voice of defiance echoing from the capital was…”
Merely a ploy to buy time for his escape.
“You sold out the entire populace of the capital for your own safety.”
“What of it!”
“Do you think that’s befitting of a king?”
Dale asked.
“Ha!”
Charles VII laughed, as if it was absurd.
“This kingdom, these people, what do I care!”
He couldn’t care less.
“From the start, this kingdom and the throne meant nothing to me!”
Charles VII shouted.
“That deceitful woman claimed to have received a divine revelation and placed me on the throne!”
“And yet, you fought so desperately to keep the crown.”
“Because this land, this kingdom, could have been mine!”
Fearful of losing his throne, Charles fell into Dale’s trap. His paranoia led the Saintess and the Archbishop to their doom.
“I, Charles, could have been the ruler of this Britannia Isle!”
“So you abandoned your people and fled?”
Dale asked again.
“Was the Kingdom of Britannia and its people so worthless to you?”
“If that wretched woman hadn’t spouted nonsense about divine revelations…!”
Charles VII nodded desperately.
“This kingdom and the throne can go to hell!”
“Is that so.”
Dale nodded calmly. Then he continued.
“──So it seems.”
”…!”
From behind the tent, a shadow emerged from the silence.
“Ah, ah, ah…”
Charles VII’s face froze at the sight.
Fraud, traitor, witch, the Empire’s harlot.
The Saintess Aurelia stood there.
“Was it all a lie?”
Silence descended like a feather. In the stillness, Aurelia spoke.
“Urging me to fight for the kingdom, while I struggled with the divine revelation.”
Her voice trembled faintly.
“Swearing an oath to save the people suffering under the Empire’s tyranny…”
“N-no, it’s a misunderstanding!”
“Was it all a lie?”
The Saintess Aurelia asked again. Only then did Charles shake his head desperately in confusion.
“Why did you flee?”
The Saintess Aurelia asked.
“Using your people, the kingdom’s people, as shields against the Empire.”
As if she couldn’t comprehend.
“──Why did you choose to survive alone, so disgracefully?”
Her voice was cold, devoid of any emotion.
“S-Saintess! Please, forgive my lack of virtue!”
Charles began to plead.
“I swear by the goddess’s name, I will confess and repent my sins! Please, I beg you!”
Dale silently drew a stiletto from his belt. He spun the hilt and handed it to the Saintess Aurelia.
“P-please spare me…”
Bound by the high white mages, unable to move a finger, the Saintess grasped the stiletto’s hilt.
The blade of the stiletto began to emit a faint glow.
A radiant golden light enveloped her.
Clang!
The binding magic of the white mages, meant to restrain her, shattered and scattered. The brilliant gold light began to wrap around Aurelia’s sword and armor. By projecting her ‘ideals’ onto her sword, armor, and body.
The gold shimmered, and darkness seeped through.
Once the champion of salvation, now abandoned by the kingdom and its king, the Saintess’s avatar.
A Valkyrie clad in black and gold armor stood there.
As dark as night, yet shining brilliantly.
Simultaneously, Dale’s world enveloped the area. It was no longer the Imperial camp surrounding Reims.
A world of white and dark winter night. A barrier existing solely for ‘three people.’
On the white ground of the dark winter night, Charles VII trembled. The black and gold Valkyrie was there too.
“P-please, forgive me…”
At those words, Aurelia turned to Dale.
“Think for yourself.”
Dale said, as if teaching a child.
“What you desire, what you yearn for.”
Not a puppet of the heavens.
“Even if our fate is not our own.”
”…”
“It doesn’t mean we deny our will.”
Dale spoke, and Aurelia tightened her grip on the stiletto’s hilt.
The maiden of war clad in black and gold. The Valkyrie took a step forward. Toward Charles VII, who knelt and begged for his life.
“P-please, I beg you! By the goddess’s mercy and compassion, spare me…!”
“I despise you.”
Aurelia replied.
“I despise you, and I despise the Empire.”
The stiletto’s blade plunged down.
Thud!
It wasn’t the calculated strike of a seasoned prosecutor. It was a reckless, emotion-driven plunge, as if the blade were being driven into Charles VII’s stomach with unrestrained fury.
Thud!
“Gah, ugh…!”
The blade was withdrawn, blood sprayed, and then it plunged again.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Entrails spilled out, blood gushed forth, yet the Maiden of Blood paid no heed.
Drenched in the blood cascading over her dark armor, the blood-stained maiden turned her head.
“But what I despise most of all…”
The distance between them closed. Before long, the stiletto of the Maiden of Blood was pressed against Dale’s chest.
“You must hate me.”
“Aren’t you afraid?”
“Revenge is a dish best served cold, isn’t it?”
”…”
“I, too, despise the Empire.”
Dale continued.
“I loathe this country so much, I can hardly stand it.”
The Emperor, the Blood Duke, those who had driven his past self to this state.
“But the Empire is not as weak as you think, Maiden.”
”…”
“Shub.”
At that moment, Dale summoned the ‘Book of the Black Goat.’
─ Oh, how pitiful.
”…!”
The Maiden of Blood caught her breath. The grotesque, repulsive mass of tentacles Dale had once shown her. That very monstrosity was now wrapping its tendrils around him.
The tentacles dripped with a tar-like, dark ooze, embracing him as if in a lover’s embrace.
And those tendrils began to slither toward Aurelia.
“There is nothing to fear.”
Entwined in the tentacles, Dale spoke softly.
“It’s more endearing than you might think.”
”…!”
“Let yourself go to her, and embrace your desires.”
Like the devil’s whisper, tempting a saint.
“No matter how dark and hideous it may appear.”