act17side

If you continue trying to burn the nethersea brand in such a crude manner, Captain Alfonso will be furious, no?

Well... no matter.

You're going to just let them walk away?

Alas, unlike Quintus, I am not in such a hurry. Why would I want to face two Hunters at once and cut my life even shorter?

Is there a difference between a moment and an instant?

There isn't, but seeing you revert to your old temperament sure brings me back, Laurentina. After all, you were in a coma until the first experiment began.

How have you been since you left us?

Specter's lips curl into a subtle smile.

It is the most beautiful smile she's shown tonight.

It's getting faster!

I've already... *pant*... put two more holes in it. Just how much blood can it have in there?!

Two? How did you...?

I'll tell you later. I don't think my stamina is going to last much longer—

—It's been cannibalizing its own kind this whole time! No wonder!

Watch out, it's coming at us!

—Urgh!

Ishar-mla, where is He?

Answer. I wish to know.

You monster!

Before Irene can fire her handcannon, the Seaborn lurches forward.

As the wall cracks audibly, Skadi leaps back with tremendous force, before closing the gap between her and the Seaborn almost instantly.

Her lethal strikes once again bite down on thin air.

What...?

(None of her hits landed?!)

...Insufficient.

Nutrients. Time. All insufficient.

Ishar-mla, we require answers. But, I can feel His presence.

With words, we shall implore.

Ishar-mla, even if He does not answer, it does not mean, He is not there.

Even if He is not there, it does not mean, that our kind, has lost its way.

Our kind, has found its way. We will, seize our own fate.

Survival, the primary goal.

Do all of you love rambling on while trying to kill us?

Don't overthink this, and don't plan on returning to the ocean either!

—Insufficient, far from enough.

But, soon.

Ugh—! Cover your ears! Irene!

Huh? Ah!

(Screeching howl) —!

(Rasping murmur) —Roci—nante—

(Brays)

The waves are coming. We wait for them. We will wait outside. With weapons, we tear them— Let us go!

(Echoing braying)

The Seaborn's murmurs can be heard from afar. Gladiia frowns slightly.

For an ordinary land-walker to recklessly make contact with the ocean and win eternal madness is certainly conceivable.

But what of the other Seaborn that obeyed him?

But Gladiia does not think about it too deeply. Because a nauseating premonition is gnawing at her nerves—

—It makes her neck itch.

What's happening up there?

This ship has been adrift at sea for more than sixty years.

If they'd wanted to do away with it, or even simply treated it and its crew as enemies, the Stultifera Navis would've sunk long ago.

...So instead, they're assimilating it.

They've treated the ship as a part of their environment. For whatever reason, they must've allowed it to survive in their waters.

But now, the situation has changed.

You mean...

Hmm.

The nethersea brand? Since when? And how did it spread this quickly?

This ship will most certainly sink.

Gladiia.

Have you ever considered why an Ægir as talented as Breogan chose, in his final hour, to design the key the way he did?

It should've unlocked the secrets Ægir has long dreamed of. It is the quintessence of his life's work.

So why is just anyone's blood enough to activate it? Why would he let it fall into the hands of a frail knight?

We did silence that thing. But they probably don't need any gods at all. Only humanity, in their impotence and hypocrisy, would fold their hands together and pray to the ocean, finding far too much solace within it.

We need to make use of what little time we have, Gladiia.

You're still thinking about the incident with Thiago.

Mm, not quite. Of all the tragedies I've endured, his is hardly worth mentioning. Nothing more than a grain of sand on the beach.

But how much sand does this beach require?

This ship wasn't brought by the Penal Battalion. Most of the town's vessels were brought under their supervision, and the few that weren't were... forgotten, stranded along the shore.

Then we've saved quite a bit of time thanks to someone's carelessness.

I can't help but think of how much more will be forgotten, what else will be stranded.

Kal'tsit, if the land of Terra were a ship, what kind of vessel do you think it would be?

We're almost at the Eye of Iberia.

...That we are.

Do you remember how we first met, Laurentina?

Badly injured, you lay across the rocks of that snow-like beach, as if you were some kind of sleeping beauty.

After drifting along the currents for so long, I was finally awoken by some truly rancid land-dwellers. How I wished I could have slept forever.

How could that be? If I'm remembering properly, we made quite a good first impression on each, didn't we?

That I won't deny. Otherwise, you would've ended up like Quintus, chopped into itty bitty pieces.

Speaking of, what a damn shame. Why couldn't have I felt like this back at Sal Viento? I could've 'reminisced' with him so much more vigorously.

Amaia maintains her elegant posture. The nethersea brand spreads as far as she can see.

But Laurentina does not take her seriously in the slightest.

What is she looking at?

...Your recovery seems to have gone well.

Thanks to you. What about the other one? How's he doing?

Who knows? Maybe he ended up like Quintus and perished at the hands of a Hunter.

...Which one?

'Twas just idle chatter.

Originium Arts. True, if there's anything on land that can pose a threat to a Hunter, it would probably be those so-called 'Arts.'

But you don't seem very well-versed in fighting with Arts either. Aren't you a bit TOO pathetic?

Laurentina, have you never wondered why your consciousness sometimes clears up and sometimes blurs? Or how you can even function after being injected with such a concentrated dose of refined liquid Originium?

Isn't that because I'm built different?

You've also told me about your dance lessons.

...Ah, damn it. I can't believe you told me before I got to remember it myself.

Fine, there were dance lessons. What else did I tell you about, Amaia?

Stop changing the subject, Laurentina.

Or, are you saying you know exactly how you 'woke up'?

We've done many experiments on you, my Sleeping Beauty.

For the longest time, we could only understand the ocean through the knowledge of the Islanders. And then, a perfect organism appeared right in front of us.

Our methods were primitive at best. Even if we donned the trappings of the church, we could not hide our blemishes as land-dwelling creatures—

Cases of us embracing the sea were few and far between, and the new lifeforms were seldom stable.