Глава 13

Talulah's footsteps slow down.

The group slowly marches next to her through the shrubs and reeds.

The rustling sounds are quieter than silence itself.

What is it?

Nine.

Can you release these... restraints? And your Arts too.

You should be well aware you're not allowed to use your Originium Arts. These are your yoke and fetters.

You're 'Talulah, the Hero' only when before our Victorian compatriots.

I'm not a hero, or anything like that.

I just don't want history to repeat itself because of m—

She does not finish her sentence.

Flames of death ignite from the depths of the swamp, encircling the group in their confusion.

Wh-What's going on?!

Where did this fire come from?!

All units on alert!

What is that—

An ominous deep purple climbs up Nine's body before she can finish speaking, engulfing her in death instantly.

Cold flames of death swallow everything.

...'Reunion'. Infected.

Another group of pitiable people, fighting against their pitiable fate. Tenacious, powerful, magnificent.

And yet completely unaware they're involved in another lamentable conspiracy. Draco and Aslan, red dragon and lion.

You people, who rose up from Ursus, were actually lead to where you stand today by a descendant of the red dragon.

Who will ultimately bring about your demise.

'Talulah Artorius'. What sort of woman are you, Draco?

If you're deserving of my attention, then come forth from death.

Sparks fly as death's voice, with dead branches and reeds all reduced to ashes.

...But the flowers are still in bloom.

They are rejecting death.

Flowers?

To think there would even be... flowers that can withstand my flames?

Nine.

I'm fine.

These flames are special.

Yes.

She came for me, so I'll handle her.

Many of us here aren't combat-ready.

You have to keep them all safe.

Reunion will pull on your chain.

You haven't been judged, so don't die just yet.

Her flames of death are cut open.

No. Her death is blocked by delicate vegetation, ignited by flames of fury.

Fire ignites fire.

The Infected turns away from her.

She has never been ignored like this before.

Eblana comes to her senses at once.

The gaze of the Draco named Talulah never shifted away from her.

Raging flame cleaves into mortal flame.

Emotion rends emotion.

Talulah tears into Eblana.

The void is now awash with blood.

Eblana laughs.

Talulah Artorius, daughter of Edward, and legitimate heir to the Victorian throne.

This is—

Your true self.

We have nothing to do with each other, Draco of Dublinn.

Is that for you to say?

Just look at you, red dragon. How strong and powerful you are.

And yet despite your might, you once again willingly toss aside the glory of the red dragon to the Aslans so easily, to let them trample on the red carpets of Westhaleg?

Victoria is a country founded by Draco, Talulah.

Why do you only resist?

I can smell an unimaginable fury in your flames.

Do you not crave it? How can that be?!

...Fury?

Do you still wish to continue playing house with the Infected? How are you this narrow-minded!

Infected? This status does not merit mention. You can step over it, disregard it, save it.

I give you a chance now, Talulah.

I can disregard your Infected status, and even this pitiful mutual aid program you control.

Your flames move me, Talulah. Stand with me, and I pledge that everything you desire shall be realized into reality.

Come to my side, submit to me, and Tara shall stand together with you.

Our careers hold no conflict with each other at all. Both you and this Infected movement of yours need an end more powerful and prosperous than this.

Are you finished speaking?

You—

Draco.

Your eyes have only desire in them.

A desire to free Tara, exact revenge on Victoria, fulfil your own desires, or perhaps...

You have yet to even grasp what exactly lies in the depths of your desires.

Fury... It's true, and I won't deny it.

And that's why...

Come any closer, and my flames will consume you whole.

Fire.

Fury.

A calm fury.

It burns at the extremities of her death.

I'm not interested in the Draco's lineage, power or the country.

You...

Do you lead the Tarans' resistance with such a narrow-sighted desire and ideals?

If so, then perhaps it's better if I just cut you down, here and now.

Truly a pity.

Uninterested in lineage, power, nor country.

Our history summarized. An imaginary crown, an instigated resistance. Well said.

Perhaps I don't know what's going on? Or could it be... do you think I'm indulging myself with my actions?

You shall be my most powerful vassal, though my other subjects are eager for me to kill any other living Draco to uphold my 'legitimacy'.

But they don't know why exactly I wish to establish a nation.

And you know it yourself?

Of course.

And my sister will do it in my stead.

Don't leave your affairs for your family to do, Draco.

You're the one ruining the lives of others with utter disregard.

Death is only my prisoner.

No death is taken for granted, or without meaning.