act33side

And by the looks of things, the mercenaries aren't the only ruthless cutthroats around here.

Stop dodging if you dare! I'll prove to Their Highnesses that I can beat you!

Too slow, Manfred.

Wai—

Argh!

You're dead. Again.

Ugh...

Get up.

Don't... need you... to tell... me...

Footwork, Manfred. And Ascalon... stop going for his head all the time?

This is the most effective way. It's his own fault for getting hit.

If he can't dodge it, he has to learn to take it.

*sigh*...

You're right, Ascalon. But why did you stop? We didn't tell you to.

I... I can take it, Your Highness. It's not over yet!

Hmph.

Huh? I hit... Your Highness! I hit—

Did you, now?

Let me down, Ascalon!

Don't hurt him, Ascalon.

Manfred's long limbs flail helplessly in the air, while his torso is tied to a wooden stake.

H-How did you do it so fast?!

Got my inspiration from the way Her Highness sews.

Manfred wriggles to break free, but the more he squirms, the tighter the ropes hug him.

He cannot understand how Ascalon can be so strong and fast, when she looks as thin and frail as him.

Let—me—down!

Look, I won again!

Ascalon raises her weapon high and grins victoriously at the twin sovereigns.

Ascalon has gotten a lot more cheerful.

What are you thinking?

They're different from the other Sarkaz children.

We can change them, but how can we reach all the children of Kazdel?

Give me time. Babel can do it.

Time is a luxury.

I know. But education is not something that can be rushed. What we're doing is leaving hope for the next generation.

The flame of hope will never go out, as long as a single teacher in Kazdel remains willing to share with these children the vision of a beautiful future.

Theresa casts her eyes towards the two children, full of hope for the future.

Well? Are you going to admit defeat or not?

No! L-Let me down! We're not done!

I'll let you down when you admit defeat.

No way!

I'll unbind you, Manfred.

Thank you, Your Highness... W-woah, why am I flying?! Y-Your Highness!

Hehe.

...Hehe.

Alright, that will do, Theresa. Let him down.

You've improved. But Theresis hasn't taught you everything he knows.

You were always the faster learner, but ever since you left the general, you've been nothing but unadjusted and lost. He is disappointed in your departure, by the way.

I may not be as good with words as you are, but at least I don't just ignore the insults against Her Highness Theresa.

Do you really know why Her Highness is so dedicated to Babel's ideals? Do you really know why the General hasn't openly denounced the attacks on Babel?

You should have talked to him, rather than turning your back on him.

I turned <i>my</i> back? You're the ones who turned your backs on Her Highness and the voices of so many.

It's Theresis who has turned a blind eye to the mercenaries' acts of violence and the damage they've caused Babel! This much I know.

The General has allowed it precisely because he can't ignore the voices of the majority.

If the fate of the Sarkaz is doomed to fall into the abyss, what's wrong with using more effective means to prevent it?

So that's what you truly think.

It's what most of us in Kazdel think.

It's not that I don't trust Her Highness... anyone can promise a better future. But we can't ignore the reality before it.

Isn't it crueler to use violence to force a child to shake hands and make peace with the murderer who just killed his father?

Say whatever you want.

I'll keep my hands off the Military Commission. But if you try to act through the mercenaries...

Then my job is simple.

No more mercenaries, no more problems.

Ascalon!

...If you have the time.

Go visit Her Highness. I've never seen her so tired.

A puff of mist is the only sign that she was ever there.

Manfred looks down and wipes away the blood slowly seeping out of his chest.

He sighs and turns into the empty street, only to spot the deceased mercenary's effects.

Someday... we will all understand.

It was never Her Highness or the General who made the choice.

Who's there?

He hesitates before the door.

It has been a busy day at this old, ramshackle house, from the 'Teacher' to the multiple visitors.

Who could it be outside the door?

Has father finally returned? And if so, what should he say?

He has learned so much from the 'Teacher' that he wants to share with his father, whose visits back home have become less and less frequent.

He takes a deep breath, collects his mind, puts on a calm face, and opens the door.

Hello...?

Good evening.

You're... er, can I help you, sir?

You know who I am?

No sir, but I know the uniform of the Military Commission.

Just a routine inspection. Do you recognize these items?

This is... my father's—!

There have been some disturbances in the city, and I'm afraid your father... I'm so sorry.

Wh-Where did you find them? Was there...?

There was nothing else left at the scene. I'm sorry.

What's your name?

...Odda.

If you need any help...

No... no, I'm very grateful that you brought these back.

It's been a long time since I last saw him... this is enough.

I don't have to wait anymore... He's not coming back...

Do you have family? Or friends you can count on?

I can take care of myself. Besides, we see things like this every day in this city, no?

I-I'm sorry I gushed, sir. I just feel like I know you, somehow...

I'm sure you're busy. I won't keep you any longer.

My condolences.

The door closes. Manfred can hear the sound of sobbing coming from behind the door, but he doesn't feel sorrow. Not anymore.