1

A change could be felt early in the following morning. Something shifted, as the first rays of the rising sun crawled over the western horizon, sweeping across the vast fields of Bureilion. Sunlight, indiscriminate as ever, bathed the rooftops of the tall manors and humble shacks alike, granaries and temples, brothels and sacred citadels, before coming to rest on the uncontested bulwarks of Selenoreion, up on the ancient hill of Meuvelie. Above and beyond stood the tall towers of the Imperial Palace, facing the new dawn, reflecting the first light without any hint of guilt or shame, like the ancient pillars once tasked to uphold the heavens themselves.

As pale sunlight shifted in through the windows of her quarters high up on one of those spires, princess Yuliana Da Via Brannan was awoken by a heavenly voice speaking within her mind. A voice she hadn’t heard in a long while, but which she found nevertheless unmistakable in its clarity.

“Rise, my chalice,” the voice urged her with warm pride and subtle thrill. “Rise, my beloved vessel. A new day dawns bright and splendid, and your soul, tempered through many a hardship, has grown a bold match for it. Verily, you are become a house most suited to hold my lofty might. Rise now, child of man, and call upon my hallowed name once more. The time has come for us to go to war.”

2

Izumi felt tired. Almost as tired as on the first morning of her recent internship, when her alarm clock went off at six. Fortunately, the first morning had also been the last of that sort. Since becoming spirited away in the world of Ortho, Izumi often woke up even earlier and worked even harder, but it didn’t matter here. There was a world of difference. She was living out her one and only dream now, who cared about sleep? This world didn’t even have clocks.

Nevertheless, after her efforts last night and the narrow escape, Izumi was indeed quite tired and would have preferred to sleep her fill. Yet, against her firm intentions, she was woken up in the middle of the sweetest, deepest dream. Not by an alarm clock, or a servant, but by a sudden quake, which shook the entire capital, including the Imperial Palace and her small, secluded room therein.

As if that great city were only a big table, upon which a displeased God had slammed his palm with a bang, a loud boom penetrated through every building and living being. It gave Izumi a start. She tensed and remained still under the covers, feeling the aftershock gently rock her bed, swaying the entire palace complex back and forth in waves. She could hear glasses tinkling somewhere in another room. The shelves made noise, knocking against the walls. Somewhere in the library, a big pile of books fell over.

“——?”

While earthquakes were a fairly frequent occurrence in Izumi’s land of origin, this was her first time experiencing one in the other world. It had this inexplicable, unnatural quality to it, which made it more unsettling than any other she had witnessed, although it was also much briefer in duration.

The trembling soon ended, so soon that Izumi had to doubt if it even qualified as a genuine earthquake. Everything was back to normal again. Obviously, there were no sounds of sirens, no ambulances or fire engines. Listening quietly for a while longer, her curiosity eventually got the better of her. Going back to sleep after such a surprise was impossible, so Izumi lifted herself up from the bed with effort and looked at the window.

Instead of the cityscape, the first thing her eyes met was the Court Wizard. Carmelia sat on the window sill, gazing outside. Her profile, still and quiet like that, was as if from an exquisite painting. Were it a real painting, it would have surely been hailed as a timeless masterpiece.

“Morning,” Izumi greeted the sorceress, rubbing the corner of her eye. “What’s up?”

Without looking back at her, Carmelia answered,

“The great temple has fallen. The Three are no more.”

“Huh?”

“Together with the Lords, the Empire of old has come to an end,” the cirelo continued. “You humans are no longer guided and protected by the blessings of your elders, but have become orphaned on the doorstep of an unknown, strange age.”

Izumi scratched her head, unsure of what any of it meant.

“Rest well,” the sorceress told her without further explanations and stood. “Your body is still exhausted, for straining yourself and overusing the runes, but you should recover, given time. Rest this day. I wish I could afford you a greater respite, but our last trial is soon upon us. The Grand Shield is dead, and with the Three gone, our greatest obstacle has ceased to be one. This means—tonight, the Emperor of men must fall. Tonight, it will be decided whether our last days in this world will be those of hope and courage. Or those of despair and decay.”

Having said all this, Carmelia walked quietly out of the room.

“Come to the library at noon and we shall discuss our plan of action.”

After the sorceress had left, Izumi fell limply back on the bed and sighed.

“Yeah. I’m gonna need some coffee.”

3

Closer to noon, as stiff as her limbs still felt, Izumi dragged herself obediently up from the bed, had a late breakfast that would have been better labeled as lunch, and joined her conspiring companions in the library hall. For perhaps the last time.

The three figures seeking to turn the course of the vast Empire stood gathered around the lengthy table once again, and for a good while after the initial greetings, none of them could bring themselves to speak.

Finally, Benjamin Watts, the young man magically transported to Ortho like Izumi, spoke up,

“Well...uh, damn. Where to even begin?” he stammered. “Things have escalated, to say the least. So much happened in such a short time, my head is still spinning. Did anybody read the news today? The headlines sure were something. Early this morning, the dome of the Great Temple collapsed in a sudden earthquake. The historical documents make that the first in the capital for over four centuries. There were no services on at the time, so the casualties were fortunately few in number, but...you have to wonder about the timing. More importantly, statements from the temple’s priests support Carmelia’s claim that the three Lords we’ve come to know and love have all disappeared without a trace. Like, they just up and vanished. They didn’t decide on a sudden vacation, did they? Early retirement? I wonder if there’s any correlation between the spirits’ disappearance and our highly unexpected encounter with them last night? Any causality to be observed? I don’t know.”

Waving his hands in a helpless gesture, Benjamin looked at the sorceress for commentary. However, Carmelia offered no direct answers.

“The Three’s blessings have been withdrawn from the Empire’s territory,” the sorceress said. “Tratovia is now a spiritual no man’s land. This could only be possible through the simultaneous demise of all three Lords. Without hard evidence to show for it, anything beyond this simple observation of reality would only be baseless conjecture. I do not know what has become of the Divines, or why, and any hypotheses I can come up with offer very little substance to our plans for tonight.”

“Er, right,” the young man nodded with obvious reluctance. “If the Empire’s chief occult advisor says so, then I suppose we’re just going to have to set this highly suspicious matter aside for now, and move on to business. And some business that is.”

“Hm,” Izumi made a sound. She had a vague feeling the matter with the Divines wasn’t entirely unrelated to her, but she didn’t feel energetic enough to pursue the topic any deeper either. It didn't change what they had to do.

Benjamin shortly resumed,

“Maybe it’s best to start with a debriefing first? Our mission last night—well, it wasn’t exactly a success story. His Imperial Majesty, our primary target, is still very much alive and kicking. Meanwhile, Marquess De la Cartá, quite dead. You did well to smash the vile trap they’d set up, but—speaking of smashing things, you kind of left your mark on the cathedral building as well. It’s estimated that the repair expenses will reach up to eighteen million silver strata. Whoever handles De la Cartá’s estate matters isn’t going to be very happy with that. But, you did get Bramms and eluded capture, so props for that. Should we call it fifty-fifty in terms of success? Forty-sixty? Twenty-eighty? Is the glass half full or half empty? Either way, in one neat maneuver, we’ve sent all the elite at the capital into a downright frenzy. And the fire is spreading, fast.”

“It wasn’t all my fault...” Izumi protested.

“Due to the past week’s events,” Carmelia continued, “culminating in these high profile deaths and the collapse of the temple, his majesty has declared martial law. A curfew has been imposed on Selenoreion, starting at dusk, banning all traffic in the streets. The Imperial Guard will be carrying out extensive patrols everywhere in the district. The Palace grounds are already under a strict lockdown, with all the gates and passages sealed, and under constant watch.”

“No one goes in, nothing comes out,” Benjamin summed up. “The Imperial Guard is in the highest state of alert, all holidays canceled, entry permits voided, state visits postponed, calendars cleared, and so forth. This is the first time in a very, very long time that anyone’s seriously depended on the Guard, so they’re taking the situation with the appropriate commitment. Fortunately for us, the army’s still anticipating an outside attack. They don’t know that their chief threat is already within the palace.”

“How convenient for us,” Izumi commented with some irony.

“Not for long,” Carmelia told her. “Emergency summons have been dispatched to all the remaining heroes of the Guild. They will hasten their return, meaning that our time is quickly running out. Once here, the champions will tear the city apart, piece by piece, if that is what it takes to find us.”

Izumi grimaced. “...After yesterday, I’m really not looking forward to meeting any more of those guys.”

“No fear,” Benjamin said, rolling out a map of the central palace. “We’re not finished just yet. With the Three gone, we are actually able to return to our original ‘Plan A’ now! That’s right, whether they're dead or alive, the Divines’ blessings are down, Waramoti is depowered, and Bramms is toast. Which means, our main obstacles are obstacles no more. We are free to pursue our primary goal with greatly heightened ease.”

“We must act tonight—and not leave the job unfinished,” Carmelia said to Izumi. “By this point, I shouldn’t need to remind you of the consequences of failure.”

“I get it, I get it,” Izumi said with a sigh.

“Well, after everything you’ve been through, this mission will probably be the easiest of them all,” the young man went on to explain, pointing at the map. “Have a look here. There’s a route that takes you directly from Carmelia’s keep to the main building, avoiding most of the guard patrols and gates. We have the keys. You’ll enter through the Azure Hall here, and it’s a straight path to the Throne Room. His majesty has been holed up in there since daybreak, as if anticipating some manner of divine punishment. Guess you freaked him out real good? Avoid unnecessary combat the best you can, but if anyone gets in your way...well, we can’t afford to pull our punches now, can we? The future of the world is at stake. And our dear lives. My apologies to all the knights’ families.”

“I know that,” Izumi sourly mumbled.

“To be frank, there shouldn’t be that many guards inside the palace, seeing as they’re mostly patrolling the streets and manning the walls. Which leaves us with but one little, tiny, famous, legendary-level problem to face...”

“Heaven’s Hand,” Carmelia picked up. “The last remaining hero of the Guild has been assigned directly in charge of the Throne Room’s protection. He will guard it with his life. After the fall of the Three, he has presumably lost the blessings, but do not underestimate the man. Even if reduced to a mere mortal, he is still a warrior of outstanding skill.”

“A cornered lion bites the hardest, or however did it go again?” Benjamin reminded.

“I know that too,” Izumi breathed an apathetic sigh.

“You must eliminate Waramoti before you engage the Emperor,” Carmelia advised her. “Use whatever means available to you, and take down the targets one by one. Do not risk a scenario where you end up facing the two of them at the same time.”

“I know, I know.”

“After that, the Throne Room,” Benjamin pointed at the room at the heart of the building complex. “Just you and the big guy. The ruler of the greatest nation on the continent he may be, but deprived of his servants, he’s still only a man. Not a hero or a trained knight. There may be some bodyguards in the Throne Room with him, but after all the obstacles you’ve overcome until this point, I wouldn’t even mention them. As usual, cut down anyone on your path, and then, his majesty. After he’s down, return here by the same way you took in. Without pursuers, preferably. Your job will then be done. We’ll have a transport ready to deliver you safely out of the capital. Leave the rest to the Circle. Carmelia will see to your reward—which I’m sure will be something—after which you’re free to go.”

A deafening silence followed all the talking.

This was it. The end of this long week’s efforts was finally in sight.

Just one last push, and it would be over.

With the Emperor’s death, the greatest threat to the peace in Noertia would be removed. There would be no war with Langoria. Yuliana would be safe, freed from the binding of the gias. Humans and elves would be able to further improve their co-operation, and form a united front against the threat of the daemons. And Izumi herself could pursue life as a hero of the sword, probably without having to worry about money ever again in her life.

Ideally, of course. It was probably naive to imagine that things would go that smoothly, even in the event of success. But it would be a start.

Still, even as she thought about all this, Izumi felt rather empty inside.

Not the least bit excited, hopeful, or accomplished.

Would it really be so simple?

How would life look for her, starting tomorrow?

Either way, she had no choice. She had given her word, after all.

Izumi glanced at the elven sorceress beside her. She owed her life to Carmelia, and that debt had only multiplied over the course of the week. Without the Red Serum, Izumi would have succumbed to the daemon plague. Without the runes, Bramms would have killed her. Without the sorceress’s timely rescue three days ago, Miragrave as well would have died. Whatever the cirelo would ask of her, Izumi would do without question.

Even if it meant throwing herself into fire.

That was the only path Izumi saw.

Therefore, casting her misgivings aside, she only gave a firm nod.

“I’ve got this. Trust me.”

“Ah, yes!” Benjamin suddenly exclaimed. “Almost forgot. You’re going to need this tonight.”

He went on to pick up a large parcel that had been resting on the chairs behind the table and, with visible effort, lifted it up.

“Phew, a lot heavier than it looks!”

He removed the purple cloth hiding the object in the case and unveiled Izumi’s greatsword, the legendary Amygla, resting in it. Struck speechless for a moment, Izumi was overcome with emotion, as if reunited with an old friend.

“I took the liberty of having it properly cleaned and maintained,” the young man reported. “As well as it could be, at any rate. The tools of the palace blacksmiths could do nothing to it. Whatever the sword is made of, its hardness exceeds even diamonds. Cut my finger just fine, so I suppose it’ll get the job done.”

—“This is…?”

The one to let out the sudden gasp wasn’t Izumi, but the sorceress standing beside her. Carmelia stared at the weapon eyes wide, with a look expressing uncharacteristic emotion.

“Where...did you get this...?” she whispered, unable to remove her eyes from the blade.

“I picked it up lying in the ditch—or not,” Izumi answered. “Yule brought it with her from home. She said something about it being an heirloom of her family, or along those lines. Something old and super special, by the sound of it.”

Not that Izumi had paid close enough attention to the story to recall it any better.

Saying nothing, turning away, as if to hide her expression, Carmelia quickly marched out of the library.

“Hm?” Izumi looked after the sorceress in confusion. “Did I say something weird...?”

“Wait, it couldn’t be...” Benjamin mumbled with a sudden frown, staring at the sword.

“What?”

“Ah, I suppose you wouldn’t know,” he recovered. “There's this old myth, or a song. Not many Imperials are familiar with it, but I saw it in a collection of old tales once. The Langorian Hero King Machilon, and the Battle of the Thornhill Pass...”

“You sure memorize the strangest things,” Izumi remarked, immediately overwhelmed by the barrage of foreign names. “Do you do anything but read all day? Nerd.”

“I don’t need to try; I’ll have you know my memory is absolute!” the young man bragged. “It’s pretty much my only strong point, anyway. Other than my good looks, of course. And besides, knowledge is power, didn’t I tell you that?”

“Yeah, yeah. What’s the story about then?”

“Ahem,” he cleared his throat. “Roughly eight hundred years ago, give or take, after the daemons drove the elves out of Amarno, the last ship to leave belonged to High King Elenglen himself. However, the elves’ bad luck didn’t end in genocide and exile. Elenglen’s ship was hit by a storm just south of Noertia, causing them to make an emergency landing on the coast of Langoria. They sent out some scouts to confirm their whereabouts, who then ran into Langorian border patrols. The word of these inhuman intruders reached the court in no time. And the King of Langoria, thinking the elves had come to invade his land, marched out with a host of knights to drive them back. Some unfortunate misunderstandings took place due to the cultural differences and nobody speaking the other side’s language, resulting in...a fight, of course. Though the Langorians suffered heavy casualties, the elves were severely outnumbered and ultimately killed, down to the last...not-man. Including the High King himself. That regrettable tragedy is probably the number one cause to the humans and elves’ poor relations, and why we weren’t invited to the alliance two centuries ago. The elves aren’t the type to forget, you know? Longevity and all that.”

“Wow, talk about bad luck,” Izumi commented. “But what’s it got to do with Lia and the sword?”

“I’m getting there, don’t rush me! If my guess is right, which Lady Carmelia’s reaction pretty much confirms, this sword is not Langorian make, but actually the one that belonged to Elenglen, the High King of the elves himself. It was a pretty famous sword at the time, forged of meteorite ore harder than any other metal in the world. Sound familiar? Whole new technologies of metallurgy had to be invented to process it, and it came to play a part in many famous songs and bedtime stories. Truly, it’s a masterwork if there ever was one. The sword was supposedly taken as spoils of war by King Machilon of Langoria, which probably explains why the princess could have it. Unbelievable as it seems, the sword has to have been in Langoria for no less than eight hundred years without anyone knowing what happened to it, until her highness took it out. Everywhere else, the weapon’s fate was left to legend.”

“That’s...something, all right,” Izumi mumbled, staring at the blade on the table.

“Right? As for to the connection to Lady Carmelia...” Benjamin made a troubled face. “Ah, there’s no way she wouldn’t recognize the thing, is there? How careless of me! After all, Elenglen was her father.”

“Ha—?” Izumi’s jaw dropped.

“Yes. Once upon a time, Lady Carmelia was a princess of the elves. Actually, with both her parents deceased now, she should’ve become the High Queen.”

“EEEEEHHH!?” Izumi couldn’t hold her surprise. “Lia is? Royalty? A Queen? That’s—I, why? What do you mean? Why’s she here, playing a simple mage then, if that’s the case? I can’t believe it!”

“It’s all hypothetical, theoretical,” Benjamin hurried to explain. “Carmelia is a cirelo, remember? One of the cursed 'Oathmakers'. At the time of the great Divide, she chose to abandon her birthright and royal privileges, in order to join the war effort against the daemons. Whereas the rest of the elves just wanted to forget. In other words, she no longer holds any claim to the Alderian throne. The elves have another King now, from a lesser dynasty, and the factions are not on the best of terms with one another. The mainland elves consider all cirelo tainted by malice and despise them, regardless of their shared origins. Even if they’ve family on the other side.”

“I see...That’s pretty messed up.”

Izumi and Benjamin were both left to admire the sword, which showed no visible signs of its long history, or the hands that once held it.

“Seeing the thing must have reminded her of the past,” Benjamin speculated. “Of all the lost opportunities. What she could’ve been, what she could’ve had. The countless sacrifices made along the way.”

“...Or the father she lost because of us humans,” Izumi muttered. “We took her family. Even the memory of him.”

Did the sorceress have any real motive to aid people, after all?

Didn’t she have every reason to want them all to perish, to suffer, for revenge?

If she did, Izumi couldn’t well blame her. Even the woman herself felt bitter and frustrated over the injustice of the past, although it had nothing to do with her.

Exactly what kind of an ending are we headed for?

4

The chirping of sparrows came clear from the apple trees above. Yuliana opened her eyes with a gasp and sat up, finding herself lying on the short-trimmed lawn of the garden at the base of her tower. Only, she had no memory of how she had gotten there. The princess sat dazed, looking around, trying to gradually gather her scattered thoughts. By the sun’s position, it appeared to be around noon or close. In other words, she had to have been unconscious for several hours.

What happened?

Yuliana vaguely recalled waking up to the voice of her Lord. Still drowsy, thinking little of it, performing only as a dutiful servant, she had carried out the ritual to summon Aiwesh.

After that—only light, fluffy warmth, like dancing in the clouds.

It wasn’t the first time the Divine spirit had borrowed her body, and as usual, Yuliana herself retained no conscious memory of what transpired during the time. For her, it was no different from sleeping, seeing no dreams, having no awareness, as if in those moments she had ceased to exist altogether.

Now, Yuliana was unmistakably alive again, the vibrantly thriving garden around her, the cerulean sky high above. Other than her odd placement, nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. The flowerbeds looked healthy as ever. The city outside the fence was at peace, and the Imperial Palace stood before the princess in its usual splendor.

Yet, at the same time, a vague sense of restlessness filled her.

There was something different about the very air. Yuliana had an inexplicable, gut-wrenching feeling that something terrible had happened. Why had Aiwesh requested to be summoned so suddenly, after keeping completely quiet for all week? Clearly enough, it had not been to free the princess from captivity, seeing how she remained within the palace grounds.

There was no apparent cause for unrest, if not for the melancholic, lonely feeling the wind conveyed. It was supposed to be spring, yet the atmosphere over the city felt more like late autumn instead, with the shadow of winter in reach.

The princess continued to sit still, absorbed in thought, when a pair of maids emerged from the tower and looked around the garden. In their white, gold-lined uniforms and headpieces that only left the face bare, all the maids of the palace looked nearly indistinguishable from one another. But, even if only by their faces, Yuliana could tell that they were a different pair than the ones who had attended her earlier in the week.

As soon as they spotted her, the two maids hurried over to the princess, stopping a few steps away with hurried bows.

“Your highness,” one greeted her in a forcefully neutral tone. “Were you here all along? You should have informed us if you wished to go outside.”

“Eh?” Yuliana was thrown for a loop, unable to immediately grasp their meaning.

“It was quite unsettling,” the other one explained, “to find your chambers vacant in the morning. How fortunate that we were able to keep our heads and thought to search the nearby areas first, before reporting this to our superiors.”

“Indeed,” the other maid concurred, “we couldn’t have hidden your highness’s disappearance for much longer than this. It was starting to look really, really bad for us. Thank the Divines we stumbled upon you by pure accident.”

“Don’t put it like that!” the other scolded her companion. “I just didn’t want to meet the same fate as Miria! I told you that people don’t simply vanish into nothingness for no reason! She was here in the garden the whole time, we just missed her before. There was nothing to report, so it was clearly the right call!”

“Yes, yes, and had we missed her this time too, crows would be poking the eyes off our corpses by tomorrow morning.”

“Be quiet! It wouldn’t have come to that!”

“Um, I can hear everything you’re saying...” Yuliana pointed out. “I—I just felt I needed some fresh air. The door of the chamber was left unlocked and...I’m sorry if I’ve caused you too much trouble.”

“Trouble? Not at all,” the quirkier of the maids said. “Nearly shat myself out of stress, but that’s normal in this line of business.”

“Hila! Don’t say such crude things to his majesty’s valued guest! She’s a real princess!”

“So what? A princess or no princess, she’s still a human being, isn’t she? I doubt she cares about me acting like an uptight clown when it’s just the three of us.”

“I do think you could stand to be a tad more professional,” Yuliana voiced her opinion. “Even if I’m remorseful for causing you so much stress.”

As nonchalant as she tried to act, the maids’ words unsettled the princess.

I really was away from the palace? What was my Lord doing...?

She couldn’t get the opportunity to question the servants further, however.

“Ah, but we have to hurry!” the more sensible of the maids quickly spoke. “Although there was no breakfast served today due to certain...complications in the city, his majesty wished that your highness could still join him for late lunch. We should be on our way.”

“Yes,” the other one nodded, “we should indeed be on our way, since the temple bells have already tolled twice since we were sent for the job. I can practically hear the axe being sharpened already.”

“Don’t try to guilt-trip her highness, it hasn’t been all that long yet!”

“Can’t I have a bit of payback? I’ve honestly never freaked out this bad before in my life.”

“Um, let us go then...” Yuliana suggested, getting up.

The long table of black wood, with only two chairs, and the breathtaking view over the city. At the northern end of the table, as before, sat the Emperor, waiting, quietly sipping tea from a little cup. Yuliana didn’t think she would see the scene on the western terrace again very soon, but there it was.

“You wished to see me?” the princess asked with some caution, taking a seat.

Having been nearly deceived so many times, she could no longer bring her guard down next to that unpredictable man, even for a moment. The Emperor didn’t look quite as fatigued and resigned as he had last night. He was pale and the circles under his eyes had grown darker, yes, but otherwise he appeared to be at peace. Even perhaps a bit dignified, like a man who knows his fate and is determined to face it with his head held high.

But why?

What could possibly threaten the most powerful man on the continent, behind these enormous walls of stone, and the armies protecting them?

“I know the feeling is not mutual, but yes,” the man said. “I felt it appropriate to have one last heart-to-heart, since such an opportunity has been graciously given to us.”

“Last?” the princess repeated. “Then you have finally determined me worthless and decided to get rid of me? Is that it?”

The man snorted.

“No,” he shook his head, his eyes closed. “Quite the opposite. It is I, who will soon exit this stage.”

“What are you talking about?” Yuliana frowned in confusion. As little sense as it made, it seemed that her earlier impression had been correct. What made him utter such absurdities? It appeared like a complete reversal of their roles.

“Tonight,” the Emperor answered, “one way or the other, my life will come to an end. That is what I mean.”

“Why?” she questioned him in frustration. “That doesn’t make any sense!”

“I suppose I will fall by the blade of an assassin. Such is the script fate has prepared for me, and all I may do now is face it. I regret our time together has to end so soon. Just as I regret the way I was compelled to treat you, undeserved. In the end, none of my vile tricks meant anything at all.”

“I don’t understand,” she repeated.

“In time, you will,” he solemnly insisted.

“So I’ve been told. But I find it more than a little hard to believe at this juncture. I imagine a man of your caliber is well used to danger by now. Why are you so certain that all these fortresses, gates, and guards can’t protect you this one time?”

The Emperor said nothing, but only closed his eyes with a stoic sigh, a wry smile on his lips.

“...This assassin,” Yuliana eventually continued instead, “it’s Izumi you’re talking about, yes? She was there at the cathedral. She was after you, you lured her there, to use as a hostage. And yet, Bramms is dead and Izumi has escaped. Is it my friend you’re so afraid of? Am I correct to assume so?”

Again, the man kept his silence.

“Let me to talk to her,” the princess offered. “I can stop her. There has been some kind of a misunderstanding, I’m sure. If only you give me the chance to see her, face to face, I’m sure we can settle this in a peaceful manner. No one needs to die anymore.”

“Why?” the man finally asked. “Why would you still try to save a wretch like me, after everything I’ve done to you and your friends? Should you rather not cheer her on, and pray my demise will be a swift one?”

Staring at the Emperor, at that tired, middle-aged man, Yuliana saw no ruler or an enemy anymore. Only a man defeated by life, who looked completely out of his element amid the grandeur of the palace around him. And following that observation, instead of fear or awe, hatred or respect, all she felt for him was overwhelming pity and compassion.

“Because if you die,” she said, “I will never know the reason why I had to go through this week. I can see this, easily enough; there is more to you and your goals than I’ve been led to understand. Otherwise, you would not have backed away so easily last night. You’re not an evil man, your majesty, nor the tyrant they claim you to be. I know this. Perhaps you deserve to die, for all you’ve done before in your life, but I am not the judge of that, nor do I wish to be. You have kindness in your eyes. There is wisdom in your words. ‘If a person dies, he will never have the chance to change his ways and redeem himself’—I’ve shared this view of yours for all my life. Yet, you force yourself to do evil things, even when it violates against your own conscience and breaks your own heart. You’re a man of many irreconcilable contradictions. You insist it’s all for the good of our world, but I have to wonder—is that really true? Who is it that you’re fighting, really? And for what?”

For some time, the Emperor sat in silence, not meeting her gaze.

Then, right as Yuliana was starting to wonder if he had even been listening, he spoke,

“Do you still remember the story I told you before?”

“About the man of the faithless land?”

“That’s right. I have been thinking about your words ever since. You told me that the land’s downfall was due to their lack of higher morality, and having no one to protect and uphold their ideals. Those people had no knights to stand up for their rights nor were their rulers wise enough to foresee the dangers. Because they did not believe in greater good, the paranoia brought about by their greed and selfishness became their undoing.”

“Is that not the case?” she asked.

“No,” the Emperor shook his head. “I’ve come to the conclusion that this theory is not entirely accurate.”

“How so?”

“It was not a matter of that land’s people being morally bankrupt. Rather, it was precisely because those people believed so wholeheartedly in the goodness of the world and their fellow men, that they failed to anticipate their own ruin.”

“Hm?” Yuliana frowned at his words. “How can that be?”

“Think of it this way,” the Emperor said. “The existence of a ‘knight’ is based on the idea, the conviction, that there exists unforgivable evil in the world. Evil so powerful and cunning that the layman cannot oppose it. It is built by nature to threaten and destroy everything around it, by whatever means possible, and can only be fought and exterminated by an appropriately trained force. A force above the common man in body and disposition. Unless this evil is counteracted, it will undermine and ultimately bring to ruin our very way of life. Therefore, an ideal knight is simultaneously people’s protector, as well as their moral compass. And also, a proof of evil. His existence is necessary to our collective good, and we must acknowledge it as such for it to continue working.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” Yuliana nodded.

“But the land we spoke of had no such knights. Because those people had deemed them unneeded a long time ago. Because they held childish faith in the inherent goodness of other people, dismissing the very concept of evil as old-fashioned and fictitious. And it was ultimately this groundless misconception that betrayed them.”

“Really...?”

“Yes. This world’s people have the right idea. Evil may exist even without monsters. There is malice in our very hearts, the existence of which cannot be forgiven nor ignored. It must be opposed at all times with vigilance and reason, or it will destroy us. Upon this realization, my mind was made up. I may not be a knight myself, nor the most moral of men, but I have resolved to oppose evil, even if it means my own death. I may be powerless to drive out the darkness in the hearts of other people, but perhaps it is not the outcome that matters. It’s the fact that I’m willing to try. I have seen that there are still individuals out there, right here, who do not submit to pain and terror, but who hold onto their beliefs and resist, even at the expense of their own good. And witnessing this has inspired me. Yes, surely this is the only correct path I may take.”

The Emperor stood and bowed his head.

“Your highness,” he said. “Thank you. Whatever happens tonight, I will be forever grateful for these conversations of ours. Your valor has given me strength to endure the dark days, when I felt my soul was about to break. But I will be a puppet no more, nor will I allow anyone else to sacrifice themselves for this charade. When the time comes, I will stand up for myself. I just wanted you to know that. So that you would remember me not as a monster amid his machinations, but as a man. Goodbye.”

Having said all he intended, the man turned to leave.

“Wait.” Yuliana quickly jumped up from her chair and called after him. “Why can’t you tell me in plain words what all this is about? There may still be a way I can help you! A way to keep anybody from dying! We wouldn’t know unless we try!”

“No,” he told her outright.

“Why!?”

The man briefly paused, glanced at the princess and replied with an almost boyish smirk.

“Because you are only a princess. And I am the Emperor.”

5

Right as Izumi was about to knock on the door, it opened in front of her. The two tall, upward arcing halves of engraved bronze were pulled out of her way without a sound. There was no one there to move them, but this was hardly the strangest thing she had seen in her time at the Empire’s capital.

Ahead opened the reception hall of Carmelia’s keep, the very same place where the sorceress had first given her the quest to slay the sovereign. Already a week had passed since that day, the memory of it regrettably diluted in the wake of the many more colorful events since. At the time, this spacious room with its throne-like chair had seemed unreasonably grand for a mere Court Wizard. However, looking at it again now, better informed, Izumi couldn’t help but think it was depressingly plain and lonely for a person, who should have reigned over no simple kingdom but the greatest civilization this world had witnessed.

Could anyone understand the many sacrifices that person—Caalan Litha Nidh vi Vaniphelia—had made in her long life, to end up in this place?

“What is it?” Carmelia, resting on her modest seat, had covered her features with a dark, transparent veil, like a mourning widow. She didn’t look particularly surprised to see the woman, but then again, she never did display much outward obvious emotion. Was any conclusion made regarding her underlying personality truthful, or only a misunderstanding, falsely interpreted, the sorceress made no active effort to assist the observer either way. Even such a rudimentary form of human interaction she would harness as a tool of deception.

However, Izumi felt that at the sword’s revelation, a part of the facade had momentarily crumbled. And through this opening, she felt she had come to touch upon the true character of the magician named Carmelia. The base rock foundation beneath the veil of illusions.

“Well...” Izumi stepped awkwardly before the Court Wizard, holding the elven greatsword on her hands. “I heard the story. And by the looks of it, this belongs to you. It may be slightly overdue, but I thought I’d give it back in person.”

For some time, Carmelia said nothing but stared at the woman without much of an expression. Likewise, Izumi patiently waited in silence.

“Really, I’d kneel, but my thighs kind of hurt, a lot,” Izumi thought to add. “I’m expressing the absolute maximum of respect here, okay?”

The sorceress closed her eyes, looking annoyed.

“You’re right,” Carmelia finally spoke, “the sword is mine by right. Not the only thing I should have inherited from my late father, but perhaps my strongest memory of him. The last one. He carried the blade as we parted ways at the havens of Tar-Elyssae, seven hundred and seventy-six years, one month, and twenty-three days ago.”

“...Ah.” Izumi nodded.

“Did you know this?” Carmelia continued. “The name, ‘amygla’ comes from an old proverb, meaning ‘a heart firmer than steel’. In other words, unbending will.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Once, held by our King, that sword was the very symbol of our race. Unbending will. But since then, the symbol lost meaning. We became divided. The people and the will to stand for justice went their separate ways. Now, none of us has the right to hold that weapon again. For we forgot what it represents.”

“I see.”

“Therefore, I entrust it to you, together with all else I hold dear, in the hopes that it will improve your chances of success tonight, however slightly. At the end of the day, it is only a sword, to be used as such. I have no need for it.”

“Okay!” Izumi lightly replied, immediately relaxing her stance, and casually leaned on the priceless weapon. “I’m not going to lie, I was hoping you’d say that. Since it really is a nice sword to have. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of it.”

“Hm.” Carmelia gave her a somewhat disgruntled look. “Here I worried if the burden of responsibility would prove too great for your spirit. Suppose the concern was needless, if you can still fool around like this.”

“I’m not that irresponsible, I think,” Izumi retorted. “Just, I’ve done so many crazy things by this point, getting the jitters now would be kind of silly. All I can do is go out there and give it my best, like any other day. Either it’s enough or it’s not. Worrying about the things you can do nothing about is just a waste of energy. I’m not young enough to stress so much anymore, it gives me wrinkles.”

“Mysteriously, I think some of your words are beginning to make sense to me.”

“I always make sense, it’s other people who don’t understand!”

“Maybe so,” the sorceress admitted. “Even after knowing you for a week, I am still unsure of whether to call you an underdeveloped, reckless, mindless, deluded animal with no sense of self-preservation, or a rare genius among your kind. I suppose it depends mostly on the perspective.”

“Why did the first option get so much heavier emphasis…?” the woman asked with a grimace. “Oh well. I won’t tell you to trust me against better judgment, but I’m not going to lose easily either! After all, I still owe you for the kitty act. Until I’ve returned the value of the favor in full, I absolutely won’t fail!”

“Exactly how valuable was that pointless foolery?” Carmelia asked with a sigh, shaking her head. “Don’t you think there are far more precious things to fight for in such a situation?”

“My, my,” Izumi answered the cirelo with satirical shrug. “Our Lia has lived for so long and she still doesn’t know how to listen to her own heart? Suppose I knew as much, but it sure is a shock. What a formidable enigma it is, life.”

“My heart…?”

“That’s right. Destiny, the fate of the world, the future of mankind—it sounds cool and all, I give you that. But those topics are also way too big for any one person to grasp. So I won’t even try. I don’t have any big, dazzling ideals to follow. Even if I tried, it just wouldn't feel real. Rather than losing sleep over such complex, manifold problems, you should think more about what’s important to just you, on a personal level, right here and now. It’s something that differs from person to person, and sometimes it can be pretty silly too, but unless you fight for what you truly think is precious to you, then your one and only life is definitely going to waste. That’s all I can say. And my heart is telling me that the cuteness of a true beauty is way more important than any earthly politics, or wars, or vengeance, or even destiny. It’s priceless. Yeah, for me, that’s the number one thing driving me on, and I’m sure my conviction there will be left second to none.”

“I take it back, what I said,” Carmelia told her. “You are an unbelievable fool.”

“I got called a fool, gununu...” Izumi hung her head in dejection.

“But...” the sorceress hesitantly continued. “Perhaps it’s the weariness of six thousand years bearing on me, but...somehow, as of late, I have begun to think better of my fallen brother...for being so fond of you humans.”

A bright smile on her lips, Izumi lifted her face.

“Aha! The dere-dere shows itself!”

“Get out,” the sorceress sighed and gestured for Izumi to leave. “Go with my father’s sword and my prayers. Hold onto whatever is dear to you now, human, be it folly or not. And I hope your beliefs grant you the strength to overcome the coming night. Our darkest hour, our final trial.”