act11d0

You have long since given up on the truth.

If you had these doubts from the beginning, but still went along with it, that only means...

No. Let me be clear about one thing. Biederman is still the prime suspect from all the information we have so far.

And these two questions about the means and his ability do not clear him. The evidence still points to him.

I cannot deny that. At the end of the day, it is possible that Contingency Contract may have some methods we are not aware of.

The truth still eludes us.

I had given up on pursuing any truth when they told me I couldn't have a funeral for my son.

As for what I really want?

I just want... the survivors to at least... be able to... *cough* *cough*, *cough* *cough* *cough*—!

If that's what you really want, you should go to Rhodes Island for an examination.

You're trembling.

It's no secret that I still have some... fear... of the Infected.

Fear...? Hah. You fought that hard for all of us and it turns out you're afraid of the Infected?

Maybe Rhodes Island really is trustworthy.

Oh, about your infection... I think Folinic wanted to ask...

When did it happen?

If I had known you were so hostile to the Infected, Miss GreyThroat, I probably wouldn't have hidden it.

I'm the one who should be sorry. I've... gotten used to my fear.

When those old Winterwisp clansmen were out there killing nobles and merchants, I was out there hunting them.

The last of them had set up camp by the lake. He knew I was coming. I guess he spotted my shadow. And he stabbed me in the chest with a chunk of Originium.

He was Infected too.

Yes... Yes, he was. I couldn't finish him off. I thought he was planning to fight to the death, but his and my revenge both came to an end.

What happened?

The look on his face at the last moment before we tumbled into the lake together was very... strange.

It was like... regret. That old man was self-conscious of the relief he felt.

Just like how he sang his life away while we fought Reunion and the insurgents. Kind of frustrating.

He... he died. Oripathy had failed to take him over the years. The last proper Winterwisp clansman, the aboriginal people of this land, had died.

The Infected split from us, and the populace could no longer stand the absurdity of the nobles. They rose up.

And that's where it ended.

Miss Tatjana!

Oh... it's you.

I'm so glad... you're alright...

Yes.

You look much better.

Hehe... maybe I really do push myself too hard, if I'm always falling down at times like this.

I've been... forcing myself not to think about Thor. But his smile... his pain... the fire burning his body...

I'm sorry. I'm doing it again.

It's okay.

We both... know.

But at least the killer paid for what he did.

Maybe.

Miss Folinic?

No... never mind...

You're right.

But Wolumonde... still has a lot of problems ahead of her...

First and foremost, the Infected...

I'm sorry. I actually knew about Mr. Severin's condition. He asked me not to tell anyone.

I should have told everyone as soon as he talked about using Originium Arts to operate the refrigeration unit in the control room.

But... He's in a lot of pain too. Everyone is.

Those who couldn't bear it... have already been thrown in jail.

The rest... are just like me.

Everyone! Over here!

The route has been mapped out, and I believe a small group could make it back to Rhodes Island safely.

Wow, that was an unforgettable experience. Should I document it? Or try to forget it anyway?

Just don't use it to make money.

Give me a little credit!

This route... Would this route allow the people of Wolumonde to evacuate safely?

Hard to say... That's a lot of people, with even more wounded and prisoners. You can't leave the prisoners to die.

Right. Where's GreyThroat?

She... left. She had to see someone.

She'll join us later.

Oh? I'll go get her.

There's no need for—

No... There is.

I'm going to get her.

We should elect a new Schultz at once!

But after all he's done for us, we shouldn't be so fickle.

E-even so, we can't let an Infected wander the streets in broad daylight.

We should decide after we see the results of Schultz Severin's medical examination. He might...

No matter what the examination says, we can't have an Infected leading us! What will the nobles say?

Would tourists or merchants come to a town patrolled by an Infected?

Hey! Hey!

Outpost reports a convoy approaching! They're flying a Gendarmerie flag!

What?!

L-let's go see if the receiver still works. We have to confirm their IFF——

In the midst of the crowd's debate, the former Schultz, Severin Hawthorn himself, has long since fallen asleep from exhaustion.

He dreams of the moon moving forward across a shining plain, and women look up to the stars while men rebuild the towers.

He dreams that a giant rises out of the earth, his fallen son, and the giant casts away all the calamities, filling up the sundered land with its godlike power.

He dreams of the giant lifting his town onto his shoulders, carrying it toward the melting ice.

He dreams of songs floating on the wind, of the earth speaking, of Originium sinking back into the ground, and Oripathy disappearing from the world.

He dreams that the giant is Winterwisp, snow and water, the cradle of community, savagery, and civilization. He dreams that the giant stands firm.

He is tired, and his violent bronchial spasms do not bring him back to reality.

He continues to dream of leaning against his sickle, looking out over fields of golden wheat.

He laughs in his dream, until he weeps.

It is the first time he's cried since losing his son.

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2:25 P.M. \ Clear

Rathaus parlor, nomadic town Wolumonde, Leithanien

What can we do?

Who could have thought they would value a wedding more than a town that has produced so much for them?

The Great Rift caused tremendous damage, although we avoided any casualties. The fact that Wolumonde lost a full quarter of its land area is a concern...

What can we do?

Come in.

Looks like your wounds have healed well.

Wipe that 'we're all going to die' look off your face. Keep an open mind for once.

You can stay here and rest. There's always room for someone to cause trouble in the Rathaus parlor.

What of my home?

It's bad. You don't want to know.

Tell me.

The locks were broken. Everything inside smashed. Nothing intact but your safe.