act18mini

A thousand branches spread out on the battlefield. Every Nachzehrer corpse they touch, from the ethereal remains of the ancient Sudaram, to the yet-unrotted flesh of young Nachzehrer warriors, blooms in flowers of decay.

Once again, the Nachzehrer rise from decay.

Once again, the fearless charge forth in the incantations of the Banshee.

The Palace of Westhaleg... It wasn't grand at all.

In fact, it looks even more decrepit than what I saw on that bill fifteen years ago.

The blood and flesh covering my hands feels more real. I stopped counting the number of Sarkaz I put down. It must've been a lot, because my wrench broke.

I see him! That must be the Nachzehrer King!

Wait... This is as far as I can go.

*Cough* You can't charge in bare-handed. Take this sword.

Th—The Sighs of Kings—

My daughter liked to rub my arm when I was lying face-down on the bed. She said it was fun because my muscles were so hard.

I would pat her shoulder and tell her she could become just as strong, strong enough to lift a whole pile of steel bars.

Holding the sword in my hand, I stab at the mountain of branches under me, and climb it.

But how do I reach an enemy floating in mid-air?

(Quick puff of steam)

For Victoria!!!

I see the Steam Knight charge towards death.

I hear a sharp whistle in my ear.

I feel the ground tremble from the guns of the tank...

The elusive, terrifying white figure in the sky stops for an instant. Then the Steam Knight dives from the sky, sending the Nachzehrer King crashing to the ground.

He... He's so close...

I am beginning to fall in love with war—I leap from the mountain of branches, and put the sword through the Nachzehrer King.

I can even feel my eyes burn at the heat gushing from the Steam Knight as it breathes.

*Pant*... *pant*...

Victorian... you have learned to draw life from war.

Now, you must learn to return it to war.

Hah. It was no use at all.

I am thrown a great distance. I can no longer feel my own body.

I see the Nachzehrer King once again rise into the sky, the Steam Knight wrapped in a frenzy of white cloth...

The strange Sarkaz casting his Arts, cutting a path towards the Nachzehrer King...

Familiar faces treading the death-filled path, towards that seemingly insurmountable foe with no hint of hesitation—

The fog seems to be dispersing. I see the massive four-legged tank advance... Why is there a golden-haired Kuranta here?

What are those strange contraptions that have appeared on the battlefield, making a strange sound?

I see Her Highness, our hero, Vina Victoria, the returned king, leading more and more people forward...

'For Victoria!'

I seem to see the end of the war.

The Nachzehrer King's silhouette overlaps with the sun. It is bright. Before him gathers those eager to end the war—

I can no longer see what happens next... where did the sword go?

Sorry, my girl... your daddy's not coming home.

<p=1>Soul Furnace of Kazdel</><p=2>Eve of the Babel Exodus, 1086</>

So you've chosen to answer Theresis's call to arms.

Even though the war will destroy you...

Has your crown shown you my end, Your Highness?

No. We simply understand full well that the only end of war is destruction.

What is there to fear in destruction?

The first Nachzehrer learned our purpose when he rose from the ashes of war.

'I am the end of all things.'

The great boulder of war sits above our heads on the slopes of time. All we can do is push it with all our might.

This time, however, Theresis has promised me an end to the cycle.

As had you. Do you remember?

I do, at the founding of the Military Commission.

But we have found another path.

Then prove it to me, Your Highness. I will wait.

Even if you do not find your end, however, I will carve out another path for the Sarkaz—

I can see your emotions. You are excited about this path.

I have waited too long, since that war two hundred years ago.

Farewell, Your Highness. I will witness the conclusion of your dispute with the Regent.

...Babel will return.

I have never doubted it. Nor have I doubted your promise.

Farewell.

The rays of dawn shine from the pinnacle of the Palace of Westhaleg.

They drive away the fog, revealing the aftermath of battle.

The fog is gone.

So is the Nachzehrer King.

Did we win? He's dead, right?

...Innit?

I still sense that suffocating presence.

...We'll need to get used to it. There is much to be done.

The daybreak was unfamiliar to those returning home, or to those on the battlefield.

Morning rays pour down like blood, over the carpet of bodies on the ground.

Is this what the sunrise always looked like in Londinium?

No... never.

The cold dawn pours blood toward the skyline, toward the winding mountains in the distance, like an ocean of blood.

The few cries of joy from the crowd quickly fall silent. This is not how anyone imagined the glory of victory.

It's over.

But who can truly kill war?

No one can kill war.

Do you still sense his presence, Your Highness?

He has unfortunately given himself to death. But you are correct. War will never end.

He merely left because this particular war is over.

I almost envy him.

He has taken so many people along with him, all to enjoy a war that belonged only to him.

I have lost another fine opponent.

Tch. Guess the old man really is dead.

No time to mull over it. The Victorians could begin their purge at any moment.

There's a lot on your mind.

There's just something I'm not sure about.

I have this feeling that, when the next war to change the history of Terra comes—

No, I'm probably overthinking it.

In the silence, only the lonely sound of a bone whistle reaches the pitch-black underground throne room.

It is the Banshee's elegy for the dead.

Is the Regent gone?

...Did you hear it? What is your true plan?

There is no answer. The Regent of Kazdel, the one who began this war, is not here.

He closes his eyes and seems to see a river of blood flowing towards the sky.

Manfred cannot even tell what became of the Sarkaz hero who left so many legends behind.

But he sees an image in his mind's eye—

When the fires of war once again ravage Kazdel, death shall emerge from the mountains on the skyline.