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No idea what kind of Arts those Sarkaz are using!

All of a sudden... I just couldn't breathe... I...

Confessarius witchcraft... These Sarkaz are their guards.

When one has one's life depleted by this witchcraft so quickly, not even medical Arts can save them.

Have Feist evacuate the cannon surroundings with our fighters.

But then the weapon will go out of control again.

Our men's lives are precious.

I... will destroy the berserk weapon.

*pant*... *pant*... Commander, I'm feeling much better...

Commander, are these... your Arts?

...No.

This light... is mobile.

Compared to mine... yes, it's much warmer.

L-Look! Someone just appeared behind those Confessarius guards! Who's that?

White horns, black robe... Is that... a Confessarius?

The Confessarius... She's fighting the other Sarkaz!

Doctor! That's—That's Shining!

Did you ask her to come here?

Kal'tsit has kept in touch with her.;She's doing this of her own accord.

I knew how badass Shining could get, but this is my first time seeing her fight for real.

How do I put it? I... I...

I'm starting to understand why she avoids fighting so much.

Madam Confessarius...

You came to the fight after all. Once again, you went against our leader's will.

If my actions are under his control, wouldn't that make my departure hardly meaningful?

Do you really despise our leader so much?

No.

I've never despised him. I've only ever despised myself.

The guard's mask splits, allowing his final expression before he succumbs to be reflected in the sheath of the Confessarius's sword.

Shining gazes at her opponent. Her eyes are both calm and sorrowful.

Once again, the final flicker of a living flame has been burned onto her blade forever.

The mist of blood is rapidly evaporating under the power of the witchcraft.

Countless beams of black energy are shot through the fissures torn open by the witchery.

The tides of blood that shroud the command tower have receded a little.

Hah.

Your swordsmanship... Not bad.

Your Highness, we must finish this quickly.

Don't disturb me.

The blood's roar forces Manfred to take a few steps back.

Ascalon's armblade follows him closely. He knows she won't let him get away easily.

A red bolt of lightning flashes across the clouds above the command tower.

This... The Teekazwurtzen.

Of course you'd know. Just as I know your armblade.

A signal... You're contacting him.

Amiya, we don't have much time.

Right, as long as we bring Lettou with us...

Nngh—!

Watch your defenses. The Vampire's power is far greater than this.

Hm... What a waste of blood.

The battle before was far from enough to satisfy the Vampire.

He turns his attention to the Victorian soldiers hiding nearby.

What...! You... You can't...

It'll be fine, Lettou. Soon enough, I shan't even need to keep you alive.

Lt. Colonel... Lt. Colonel!

Ngah—!

The soldiers can no longer speak.

They fumble their way to the Vampire, as blood sprays out of their spines, one stream after another, heeding his orders in their arms and legs, marching forward rapidly.

They have received the Sanguinarch's blessing.

Do it. To your heart's content.

Blood doesn't dry simply because of death. It will only flow faster, thanks to your futile actions.

His soldiers no longer follow his commands.

He watches them advance and advance... until they reach the edge of the rooftop.

The Sarkaz's fight will soon destroy this place. Their eyes do not even see these normal soldiers who are in flux between life and death.

Most of the soldiers are Victorian. They are of entirely different upbringings than him. They remain oblivious to his objective and the deal he made with the Sarkaz to this very moment.

They simply followed him here... to the edge.

*sigh*...

He knows he shouldn't have moved. The Vampire and Manfred would have been in no hurry to kill him as long as he hid in the far back.

But he still wanted to catch those soldiers about to fall to the depths below.

Ugh...

Black... energy beams... hah...

Lt. Colonel Lettou.

I can feel pain... in your eyes.

You think of yourself a Gaulish man. You revere a massive phantom of the past. You want to take hold of it and bring it back.

But...

Do you really believe the Sarkaz's word? Do you really believe... that your dream to rebuild Gaul is possible?

You are afraid, sir.

You pretend you still have control... because you don't want to face the coward in you who wants to flee the war.

You force yourself to believe that all the sacrifices you're making are for Gaul.

But... you can't forget the eyes of those men you've deceived, who you called to their deaths.

You... You are the young Lord of Fiends... they spoke of.

...I am.

And I am your enemy.

Yes.

But... you held me back. You don't want to see me die here.

They call you the Lord of Fiends... the King of Sarkaz... but all I see...

...is a kind, gentle girl.

Nngh—!

An intense pain suddenly seizes her.

This isn't the doing of the Liberi before her, nor is it the Originium Arts of the Vampire or Manfred.

After all, this isn't an attack.

Amiya, oh Amiya.

A voice calls out to her. A voice as soft as a snow-white feather quilt that has been set out to dry in the sun.

Amiya lifts her head.

The sky above her comes smashing down. The thick dark clouds surge towards her, engulfing her from top to bottom.

...Like a tight, suffocating embrace.

Doctor, Commander, we've taken back control of the cannon!

Ten minutes... Gimme just ten more minutes, and I'll take care of them all.

Phew... Doctor, for the first time these past few days, I think we just might be able to win this.

Miss Closure...

What's up?