Глава 10

Just because...

It's what I want to do.

Truly... a lunatic.

A lunatic... me? You look at that face of yours, always so confident and cool...

Right, you'd be clueless...

Because you always get what you want done, so, so easy.

Once the one you most care about... dies by your side...

Once the one you most trust... casts you away...

Pins you to the ground with your own sword, even...

Maybe then you'll understand.

Is this your final defiance on the brink of death? These curses of yours can't sway me one iota.

Kheh... heh...

Then why don't you hurry up and kill me?

You don't even need me to do anything.

You're already dead, Taran.

Taran... You're calling me a Taran.

Sarkaz...

Laid on the ground, she raggedly forces a breath.

The floor is cooling, chilling, and she gradually loses sense of her own arms and legs. Were they broken at some point? Or have they numbed in fleeing for her life?

Do you want to live, Taran?

Who is it... calling to her?

The sewers are right beside you. Climb down there, and those disgusting nobles won't ever catch you again.

Yes, climb down.

The sewers give off the intense stench of rust and grease. Parts ripped from abandoned machines and cold scraps from a noble's dining table mix together.

She's starving, yet she revolts at this hunger.

Rust, grease, but she can smell another scent.

She knows it. The odor of death.

The sewers are a tomb for the insects living in nomadic cities.

The wealthy construct cemeteries inside the cities where land comes at a premium, and the commoners, with little to their name, have no choice but to cast ashes out beyond the city orbits.

And the insects? They die without a word in the cracks between the plates. They die where the sun will never shine upon them.

Do you dare walk to your death? Should you have the courage to die, that is all you need to be granted a new life.

Leader...

She just needs to crawl to her left, scant inches, and she'll clamber into the sewers... like back then.

And there on her right... just on her right.

Her Taran compatriot stares with eyes wide open, gazing silently upon her.

Sorry, Leader.

This time...

It's me... who doesn't need you.

She uses the last of her strength to push her right hand out. Her touch alights on her old friend, changed beyond recognition.

No one's... after us now. Let's go home.

Even though your meeting's end will be in death?

Someone stands before her. No firelight by his feet, pitch black reflected from his dagger.

Mandragora grins.

In her mind, she has met the true Death.

There's an entrance right below that abandoned factory. Push that crane out of the way and that'll do.

Alright, thank you for showing the way, Mr. Feist.

We'll be going along here. Everyone not wounded, please lend a hand to who are—

Bleeding hell. Doctor, we've got pursuers again!

How are they doing it?

Ever since leaving the kohl factory, we always get found no matter how many waves of enemies we repel.

We can discuss that in a moment.;Let's handle these ones first.

Right, this is our last chance to retreat underground.

We can't let the enemy follow us under at any cost. The Self-Salvation Corps has all their operations set up here, and the Sarkaz don't know which entrance is the correct one to these underground tunnels.

On the off-chance a Sarkaz finds this one, the Self-Salvation Corps' and the Sudean borough's efforts will all be laid waste to, just like that.

Closure, ready the explosives.

On it... uhh, what?

Doctor, you want me prepare to blow up this entranceway?

That definitely works as a form of insurance.

Are the Self-Salvation Corps gonna like that...?

Clovisia gave command authority to the Doctor. What the Doctor says, goes.

Amiya, we'll intercept the Sarkaz in the estate behind. Wait on my signal. If we fail to head them off, I want you to set off the bombs before it's too late.

They're over there!

Quit gawking around. Your opponent's right here.

Ugh––!

One team of ten Sarkaz. We can hold them down.

These few, but even once we do...

You... None of you are getting away.

The Sanguinarch can smell it... he'll find you one by one... tear your bodies open, cut your throats apart...

Who's this Sanguinarch?

Could it be... the one who just raided another unit of Self-Salvation Corps soldiers?

Raided? You Victorian Felines wouldn't be worth his... raiding.

He's simply... hunting prey. As the Prince of Blood's quarry, you wouldn't even register in his gaze.

No need to listen to their nasty comments.

Indra, do you remember that run-in with the Self-Salvation soldiers?

Burned into my eyes. What a bloody scene.

I've seen plenty of people die, but just smeared all over the ground like that... barely even looked human anymore.

Dagda, what are you doing? There's still some of 'em over there, we can't waste—

Siege, I beseech you. Let us get out of here.

Do you hear yourself? You're the one who wanted to fight the Sarkaz, now you're the one getting cold feet about it...

I've suffered the humiliation of turning tail once before. I can cope with it again.

So long as we can escort Siege safely out of this area, I'm willing to come back and wage war to the bloody end with these Sarkaz at any time.

Fine.

Siege, have you finally made your decision?

Perhaps I have.

Dagda, I've already seen your choice.

My... choice?

Go.

Vina?

Hold on...

I...

Go and find the one you need.

Don't let these Sarkaz stand in your way.

Are all of us down now?

All surviving Self-Salvation soldiers are here.

It's all thanks to you that we could even make it here.

What about Vina?;We're still missing four.

We're here.

Three returning for the Siege Group.

Um, what about Miss Dagda?

Is... Is she alright?