Глава 12

The Catastrophe cloud in the sky has not yet dissipated.

Should you take off your gloves, you would be able to feel the Originium dust in the air scratching the palm of your hand.

The Nachzehrer King sits atop his throne, casting his eyes across his army.

The Nachzehrer's army will not be shaken. The Nachzehrer's army will not show weakness.

They pass through the storm, beyond injuries, and over the carcasses of compatriots and enemies alike.

The Sarkaz continue to march. Until the enemies of the Nachzehrer King are completely crushed, they have no right to stop.

'They are War itself.'

Your Grace, we've sustained heavy losses. Nearly a third of the high-speed battleships in the vanguard's squadron have been incapacitated. We're trying to turn the situation around, but the outlook isn't positive.

That violent Catastrophe... just slammed into our front line all of a sudden.

It's very difficult for us to conduct standard operations in these high-density Originium zones, and the exposed Active Originium clusters greatly limit the maneuverability of our high-speed battleships.

But, the Sarkaz forces don't seem to be affected much. They... don't care at all. Most of them are already Infected.

The Nachzehrer's troops are also fielding some witchcraft contraptions we've never seen before. The chaotic fissures they spew out are... tricky to deal with. We're still looking for countermeasures.

Hold the line. Have the artillery in the rear lay suppressive fire, and open up a gap to the east.

It shall be done, milord.

No mercy for poor Windermere eh, Duke Wellington?

She just bailed out the fleet we sent to claim our plaything, and you're going to repay the favor by driving the Sarkaz onto her turf?

I don't remember giving you permission to tap into my communications, Caster.

Stiff as always, aren't you?

I will remind Windermere to take adequate preparations. After all, we are still Victorians.

I know what you're after, old Wellington.

You're getting ahead of yourself.

Next time, I hope you'll find a more appropriate manner of exchanging ideas with me.

Hmph.

Your Grace, you shouldn't continue standing on the deck like this. Though we're a fair distance away from where the Catastrophe struck, the dust can't be good for your health.

This is my duty, Your Royal Highness Eblana.

You are always worthy of my trust.

Haha... Those two siblings are being extremely cautious.

This is not the full extent of The Shard's might. They either don't want us to know that they haven't fully mastered the storm's power, or... they're waiting for a better opportunity.

This storm should've belonged to Victoria alone, but now, we will be first to face it.

I hear the officers murmuring amongst themselves nervously, Your Grace, but you don't seem flustered.

If anything... you seem to be rather excited?

Indeed, milady. I won't deny it.

This battlefield commands fear and respect.

When is the last time I've faced an enemy like this since Gaul's Vieux Vanguard?

We've long been ready for this. Regardless of whose hands it is in, the storm will only serve to wash away hesitation and weakness from the Tarans, and it shall temper our young troops.

I can see him... The Nachzehrer King.

Let us drop all pretense and face each other in battle.

The Tarans will not be stopped here. Our rage is no less than yours.

Your Royal Highness Eblana, I shall secure a future for you and the Taran people.

My faithful Duke...

Very soon, the final chapter will be written.

Welcome, Lady Ermengarde. With your arrival comes the goodwill of the Liches.

We will never forget. At the moment the Sarkaz needed unity the most, the Liches chose to leave their library and stand at our side.

Hehe. No need to be so formal, Your Highness. I am simply an observer.

But, you still brought us a gift, and the soldiers on the front lines will put it to good use.

It is but a trifling trick to play with the fissures.

The liches' mastery over dimensional space transcends most people's cognition.

Naturally, unlike your people who've always been in Kazdel, we liches are keen on self-preservation, always looking for a place to hide our phylactery.

But, the Lich's throne has never been removed from the Royal Court's chamber.

We appreciate Your Highness's thoughtfulness.

I assume you know that Kal'tsit paid me a visit on my way here?

She tried hard to convince me... not to take your side.

The young master of the Elegiac Court is fighting alongside them. I've heard the teachers say before that the Banshees' strength is not to be overlooked.

Dame Kal'tsit claimed that the war you and the Regent started will only push these lands into irreversible disorder and strife.

These things are only temporary. We... have no choice but to endure.

This is the only way the consensus needed for solidarity can be built.

...Hah.

Want to know what the funniest thing is, Your Highness?

Your words sound just like hers.

You both call for unity. You both tell me that this is the only way to avert the impending calamity.

Kal'tsit...

Then, why do the two of you stand in opposition?

Perhaps because... we're both in a hurry.

Rest assured, as a Messenger of the Lich King's Court, I didn't make any promises to Dame Kal'tsit.

Just like how I haven't made any promises with you.

We Liches are never in a hurry to pick a side for ourselves.

Of course.

These languishing pains and broken hearts... At long last, they will eventually have a home to return to.

Not much longer now.

Amiya, will you be able to find that path?

Damn those officers! They'd rather bring along a tuskbeast than us!

Who the hell does he think he is? Back in the days, before I got sick, he didn't even dare look me in the eyes!

Damn it, damn it all! This bloody Oripathy!

I'd rather go without those Rhodes Island peoples' inhibitors, and blow up in a cloud of Originium Dust over in Norport!

At least, I'd be able to give those freeloading bastards a faceful! They'd get a good taste of what I'm going through too!

Hah! That Cautus gave me an inhibitor too...

These bloody pills aren't gonna save shit!

...I'm done for.

I can't leave this place.

My life... isn't worth a damn thing.

What was the point o' crawling outta Norport? These damn crystals... These damn Originium crystals in my body!

Run me through, dammit! Run me through already!

The Infected citizen angrily scratches at the Originium crystals on his arm, as if crushing them would make everything go back to normal.

Severe pain rips through him, and the newly-infected person gasps for breath. He is overwhelmed by the pain that had just become familiar to him, and a mixture of tears and sweat rolls down his cheeks.

He lies on his back in a patch of mud. Before his eyes, the sun has risen to its zenith.

Before he closes his eyes, a strand of pink hair suddenly breaks into his vision.

This is no place to be sunbathing, sir. The mud's going to get in your clothes.

Get away from me. I'm an Infected, and might explode any minute now.

Hah, if I had to guess, I don't think you've had Oripathy for more than a week. Everyone looks just like you the first few days.

Shock and denial, pain and guilt, anger and depression...

In the end, they have no choice but to accept that they're a miserable, hapless lot.

The hell do you know? You're–

Also an Infected. What's so strange about that?

You're also an Infected? But, you look so...

Wait, I've seen you before...

Hello, sir. My name is Percival, and I'm the doorman at the Sunset Street Hotel.

It's a shame, but it seems you don't have much luggage for me to carry.

No, I meant... in Norport...

Hmm? Now that is awfully quaint.

I was with the Mounted Police for quite a few years, Miss Percival. I've been involved in a number of cases, some of which involved the Infected as well.