Глава 13

For a few moments, perhaps more than a few moments, no Sarkaz dare to speak.

It takes away all things, and shapes all things.

What... is that...?

The blessing the Sanguinarch left the Sarkaz hasn't faded, but just now—

Could the Doctor have been talking about...?

Blood rises from the spine of the Feranmut, apparently only a drop, but it draws all eyes.

It leaves the intertwined bones, dancing in the dim cave, rising in the freshly sprinkled sunlight.

A drop of blood, just one drop of blood.

Pure blood—

Glorious blood.

It has been wounded, it has been betrayed, it has been forgotten, to the point of being spurned.

For millennia, the land called it a disaster, treated it as an enemy, trampled it until it abandoned its glory and defiled its body.

Teekaz became Sarkaz, their homeland lost.

Today, the blood of 'those with a homeland' returns from history.

All men across the lands should pay tribute to it.

The bead of blood dissolves, and silence reigns.

No explosions, no vibrations, no grand visions or chaotic whispers.

Even if blocked by the hills, all eyes turn toward Londinium.

At this point, all the storms called by The Shard feel like nothing but harmless drizzle.

Now, what gathers atop the tower can no longer be called just a dark cloud.

The storm has become a cradle.

...Hoederer, W, look alive!

Do it!

W, where are the bombs you buried? Hit your detonator, now!

Don't have to tell me twice!

No guesses, Hoederer! We only take on opponents we know we can handle!

...I know.

W's bombs tore through the defensive line. We've got a breakthrough. Tangled with them way too long.

Amiya and Logos went on ahead of us. They'll deal with the worst of our troubles.

As for the others... follow the path they cleared and climb the Feranmut's bones with those gangways!

Dammit, these guys—

Don't let them get any further! Commander Ulšulah is pulling up the gangways!

The trembling nerve bundles begin to close, and the bone gangways start to drift.

The Feranmut has decided not to let anyone walk on its spine.

The traitors die here!

We'll take their corpses to the tent of the Nachzehrer King, to nourish our next victory!

Huh?

Buried mines under the bones. Feels pretty good.

Hoederer, Ines, get ready—Shockwave incoming!

The rising airflow of the grand explosion sends the three mercenaries into the air.

Hoederer adjusts his posture with some effort, looking down to see the cave being engulfed in flames.

The Feranmut seems to sense something. It swings its body, its white tailbone slashing at the three like a whip.

W, three grenades, downward diagonal.

Ugh.

Good idea.

This is the last time I play along with your explosive shenanigans.

The red-haired Sarkaz kicks up dust, and the black-haired Caprinae weaves darkness.

The scraps form beams and the shadows form steps.

An invisible staircase, stinking of gunpowder, spirals upward and pierces the chest cavity of the hovering skeleton.

The mercenaries rush into its hollow interior.

This way to the core of the skeleton.

Our target is Ulšulah. Find her, and we get control of this thing we're walking on.

Are you two sure we can 'get' this skeleton? Sounds a little reckless, almost like robbing a caravan.

We have to. Otherwise,, Amiya and Logos are fighting for nothing.

So we open the car door, toss the driver out, grab the keys—'Bam, my car now'?

Did you see the illusions this thing made, moving between its bones, you still haven't figured anything out?

This isn't some obscure story.

Should I have figured something out?

I forgot, you don't care to learn history.

A few hundred years ago, the Sarkaz killed a Feranmut that almost destroyed Kazdel.

After it fell, there were various claims as to where it ended up, and one of those was—

That its consciousness didn't die with it, that it was split up, sealed into a bunch of different items.

Now it seems that claim was probably at least partly true. As for the unconscious shell... it was carefully collected before this war.

They spent a lot of effort to modify it, and sure enough, it's playing a big role in the war for the Military Commission.

'Different items', huh? Ulšulah never carried a pocket watch before. Not like she was ever on time in the Scar Market.

But if her watch is holding the Feranmut's consciousness... it's probably already very fragmented.

The skeleton we're standing on isn't exactly dead, but it doesn't have much more than basic nerve reflexes. Ulšulah can only guide those basic reactions.

We just need to pay more attention to them—

A rain of bolts falls through the gaps in the bones, followed by the eerie glow of Sarkaz witchcraft.

Take cover!

Sure, just avoid the nerve bundles that can strike at you, and watch out for sudden bone spear thrusts, nothing to worry about.

After all, this fella's been stripped down to nothing but bleached bones.

But there's still you, Ulšulah.

You're more dangerous than this half-dead Feranmut.

Done with your important work?

I might be, if you weren't here to bother me.

Is this bitch the commander here? She's pretty rough on her own skeleton.

Those bolts are all stuck in the bones now.

Want me to help pull 'em out? I've got a pretty handy method.

*cough* *cough*—It's that psycho!

Trying to kill my men right in front of me?

Hoederer, you think too little of me.

Dangerous and chaotic power gathers in Ulšulah's fingertips as she prepares to cast her Arts.

But a moment before she can cast, a black shadow crawls up her ankle.

Ugh.

Ulšulah has to take a step to the right in order to shake off the persistent entanglement of the shadow.

Her Arts go out of control, and a red glow shoots out from the damaged seams of the spine.

The sound of a muffled explosion booms from the distant cave wall.

You've gotten rusty, Ulšulah.

I guess you've been doing well for yourself in the Scar Market.

You're a bunch of survivors, I'll give you that.

Back in Kazdel, I made quiet bets with the old timers on how many of you would actually collect on those jobs you were taking.

As long as I bet on Hoederer, Ines, and later the psycho W, I always made money.

Sounds to me like you owe us a big cut.

That's the famous sharp tongue on <i>this</i> W. Haven't you learned anything from Ines?

This time, though, you took a wrong turn.

Two kings of the Royal Court are here, going all out, not to mention the 'King of Sarkaz'.

This place is never gonna be a safe haven where you can escape the war, not the kind of place you can survive.

What about you?

You heard about Theresis's trump card in Londinium?