act29side

A Gendarme? Who is he?

I do not know his name, but he is one of Loris Bordin's subordinates.

He was attempting to blow my head up with Arts.

And you still saved him?

Ugh—!

The third sculpture, shattered.

He was merely carrying out his duties. I see no reason to harm him.

These men may be under the influence of Arts, losing their reason to their most intense emotions buried deep within their hearts.

Fighting them would be inefficient. I suggest instead quickly rendering them unconscious, as I have been doing.

...So this entire time, you've been knocking people out while making your way through the crowd?

I have also attempted to place them in a corner to ensure that they won't be stepped on or struck in the melee.

Danke, then, for not clubbing me the moment you saw me then.

I do not require thanks.

Micha Wolf, you may be young, but mentally you are much stronger than most adults.

I believe that as long as someone is available to provide you a hint, you will never lose yourself to these illusions.

That is not necessarily the case for everyone else.

Although I have yet to receive confirmation, if it was Arturia's music that caused this chaos, then the abnormal behavior will continue until we end her performance.

I'll leave this place to you, Micha Wolf.

Call me Michael.

I must continue ascending, Michael.

This sound is very familiar.

The staircase outside must be as chaotic as it was twenty-three years ago?

Panic, anxiety, fear, rage... All these emotions, caused by that non-existent spire.

The Genesis Spire standing at the heart of Leithanien.

When its sound can once again be heard far and wide, what sort of music will it finally have in store for us?

Herkunftshorn, our one and only king!

Your magnificence props up the Spire, and your radiance shrouds the land!

Your soul shines eternal, and your Arts will never fade!

All of Leithanien's wisdom and elegance gather before you!

Your luminance and greatness are the pillars of her success!

Lift your heads, all ye who prostrate on the land before him—

Gaze upon our king's accomplishments! His glory!

At last... The day has finally arrived.

For two decades, I've dreamt of walking up those long stairs and standing before this very throne.

Fortunately, fate provided me the enchantments you left on the Güldenesgesatz.

Today, very soon, your final melody will be performed.

Herkunftshorn, Leithanien's most supreme ruler.

Allow me to once again seek an audience.

Allow me to... seek your forgiveness.

Good boy, Franz.

I apologize. I had no choice but to knock you out. Does your head still hurt?

I would have thought you'd have plenty of questions for me.

...Hah.

Ja, that's the look. You're in pain, but unwilling to give in. Even lying in sludge, you'd still look upon your betters with scorn.

My betters? All I see is a flock of madmen putting on a show.

Your ramblings are even less worth listening to than the noise in my head.

You believe us insane, and that we've mistaken you for the Witch King. And so we repent and kneel before you.

What a shame. Even I had hoped that you could truly become him.

If only... If only our original experiment had succeeded. If only we'd found the way to perform the Voice of Mundane right from the start.

Then, neither you nor the other children would have suffered so.

...It was you?

And to think I was going to... protect you...

Ha... hahahaha!

You're coughing up blood.

*spit*

I almost wish my blood really were imbued with evil power. Then I could've at least burnt away that deceitful mask you're wearing.

But I haven't told you a single lie.

When we first met, you'd yet to learn to walk. All you could do was sit on your mother's lap.

Was she also...?

A remnant of the Witch King? Is that what you wanted to ask?

Are you worried that your birth itself was... some sort of evil ritual?

Nein, quite the opposite. But you wish it were, don't you? You want your entire life to have been a conspiracy, through-and-through. That way, you'd feel comfortable despising it.

But that doesn't make sense, my dear Franz.

Your mother was a respectable woman. She was a descendant of the Urticas, part of the Witch King's bloodline. So to others, she was almost by definition one of his remnants.

Before she died, she entrusted you to a friend, an old servant of the Witch King. And to protect you, he too was killed by the Empresses' Voice.

Would you scorn <i>them</i> as well? Even though they truly loved you?

...So after taking away my love, now you tell me I don't deserve to hate either?

You want me to be nothing more than an empty husk. All the better to squeeze that old fart into me.

Hah... Just try.

The Witch King's whispers, his robes, his crown... What else is there?

Don't worry, my child.

When Herkunftshorn's power arrives, he will end your cruel fate and heal you of your scars and pain.

I thought I told you to let him go.

So you chased us after all.

It must have been hard to make it past all the enchantments outside, no?

This is my responsibility, and I don't give up.

I'm surprised you were able to cleave through my defensive enchantments.

I sharpen my sword with my Arts every day. I make sure that it's as solid as my will.

Your sword... It has a special enchantment that specifically targets traditional Leithanian Arts. Did the Professor teach you that? Has he always been prepared to make an enemy of Leithanien?

The old man's never been one to pick his enemies. And neither do I. Our enemies crawl out the shadows on their own.

Just like you, Gerhard.

I never expected to point my sword at someone who was once my ally.

We don't <i>have</i> to be enemies, Lessing.

The Maeyers have served the Urticas for generations.

As long as you're willing to stand on our side and help Franz, there will always be a place for you by the throne.

The throne?

All I see is a musty old chair.

My grandfather, my parents... All of them have been held hostage by that chair for far too long.

Why should I repeat the same mistake and bind myself to it again?

Hm, well said.

Those unwilling to be bound by the past will always try to seek out a different fate.

Like you, and like me.

The Concertmaster has started the performance.

It's almost time.

No one can stop the advent of Herkunftshorn anymore.

But Herkunftshorn isn't the one sitting on that throne.

His name is Ebenholz.

And it's my duty to bring him back with me.

As long as I live, nothing will stop me from reaching that battered chair.

It doesn't matter how many men you have—