Глава 14

Our little puppet had been through many great adventures, and at last, he made it. His goal was right in front of him. The Plains of Hope...

What were the plains like?

Hm... The kind of place that anyone would like to call home.

The kind of place with all the carrot pies I could eat? With everybody on the landship there, too?

Maybe.

But things are never that easy in these stories. He still had to overcome the last obstacle that stood in his way.

The desert was very cold, and the wind there never stopped. In the light of the twin moons, there seemed to be some black cloaked shadows whispering to themselves, but the moment he looked for them, they disappeared.

What were the black cloaked shadows?

They were the echoes of the oldest despair and sadness. If they catch you, you'll never escape them.

The shadows whispered among themselves and laid trap after trap to stop the puppet...

The black-cloaked shadows didn't want to let the puppet make it any further. They did everything they could to try to get him to turn around.

Because if the puppet made it through the desert, hope would start to spread their way, and they would disappear.

But the puppet didn't know that. His goal never once changed.

The puppet made it past their traps and foiled their plans. All the tricks they had up their sleeves had failed. They were furious, and they decided they weren't going to hide anymore. They were going to duke it out with the puppet and fight him to the death.

When he saw the shadows rushing toward him, the puppet took out a long spear made of a needle and some threads. Then, he—

Theresa, why did they become the echoes of despair and sadness?

Well, about that...

Did they catch Oripathy? And the pain kept them up at night?

Then, maybe the puppet could cure them? Just like what you and Dr. Kal'tsit want to do.

Cure them?

If the puppet cured them and turned them into... hm... happy and peaceful shadows, then everybody could go to the Plains of Hope together, right?

Were they born baddies who liked to scare people?

No, dear, of course not.

The puppet found out that... they all had wounds on their bodies. It was the wounds that turned them into who they were.

Couldn't he fix them up with his needle and thread? Just like what you always do!

Maybe... Perhaps it's worth a try.

(Yawns)

Sleepy?

N-No, I'm not! Did he do it?!

The puppet tried over and over. The stitches were thick and ugly. The black-cloaked shadows were livid.

Wh-What happened next...?

Maybe... peace and happiness don't really come so easily, but in the end, they decided to let the puppet go.

The black-cloaked shadows watched the puppet walk into the distance. They decided they'd let the puppet give it a shot, but... a big river stood before him.

He didn't even know how wide it was. All he knew was that he couldn't see the other side of the river.

He knew that the Plains of Hope were on the other side, but there weren't any boats nearby. There wasn't even a decently sized frond.

'What do I do now?' The puppet thought to himself, and he decided to see if he could swim across.

But... he's a... cloth puppet...

Right, he was made of cloth. If he got wet, he would only get heavier and heavier until he sank to the bottom of the river.

But if he stopped here, his journey would have been for nothing.

He leapt into the water and found that the river was cold and salty, like tears.

Apparently... a lot of people across the lands wanted to go to those plains, but not one of them succeeded.

It was their tears that formed this river. The puppet finally understood just how many people shed tears over this.

Zzz...

The puppet swam and swam. He felt his body slowly soaking up the tears.

Did the other side of the river really exist? Perhaps the shadows were right. It was called the 'Plains of Hope' because no one could truly make it there.

People speak different languages, and their hearts are not connected.

Home. <i>Home.</i>

But a river meant that there must also be a source to return to.

Sleep soundly, Amiya.

Good night.

Amiya has no idea how she got back to her room. That night, she slept very soundly.

Did the puppet make it across the shore? What happened in the end?

A ravine suddenly appeared. Just like that, the two sides have lost contact.

Amiya?

Ah! Doctor, when did you get back?

Is everyone waiting for me? I'm sorry. I'll just need a minute...

Good job with the battle.;You did well during the battle.

Yeah!

It's okay, Doctor. I'm all ready.

Let's head over there together.

We're about ready for departure. Every one of us has to leave Brentwood. Good thing these bones are large enough for us all to fit.

The Military Commission must already have caught wind that we've taken control of the town and the Lifebone. It goes without saying that the skeleton is of tremendous importance.

Their counter-offensive might already be on the way. Perhaps the Sarkaz are watching our every move as we speak.

Ever since their rapid tactical unit, the Witchling, took to the skies... it's always felt like somebody's been watching us in the mist. It's unnerving.

The battle will only get more dangerous from here on out.

We all know that. The Exemplars will not give up their counter-offensive on Londinium. We have no other choice.

Victoria's people have endured this long enough already.

Good thing we seized the skeleton. Under ideal conditions, it will serve as a temporary stronghold. The wounded and civilians will also get to settle down a little.

Besides, if what Hoederer said is true, it can teleport anywhere, although it might make the users nauseous.

This is indeed some much appreciated help, but something is bothering me...

Why wouldn't the Military Commission defend such an important transport to the death?

Perhaps they gave up because of the pressure of the battlefield, or perhaps Duq'arael... the Sanguinarch underestimated his enemies...

But it's more likely that their plan in Londinium has already reached a stage where... they can't afford to worry about anything happening outside.

The Sanguinarch still completed his final ritual. That may be exactly why they turned their gaze not to the Lifebone, but somewhere else.

Hoederer has finished negotiating with the consciousness left in the skeleton. It will... yes... 'listen to our proposal.' With its help, we will be able to return to the battlefield at any moment.

Most importantly, it gave us an opportunity to get close to the airship and the Shard.

If we make use of this trump card well... Just maybe, we'll be able to mount an airborne assault on Central Londinium.

Take out their headquarters directly. Good. I like that.

The area around the Shard is heavily guarded, and my guess is that the Military Commission's airship won't let us hover over their heads without a fight.

All we can do is find an opening for our strike team to enter, and as soon as they've made it in, we'll have the Lifebone depart.

That means the strike team can't retreat.

But at the same time, we still have to get to the bottom of what's been bothering Amiya: What exactly are the Sarkaz planning?

And how to foil their little tricks.

We won't be able to take the Shard with this little time by ourselves, but... we still have friends inside that massive city. We need to get in touch with them.

According to our intelligence, there likely aren't many combatants stationed inside the Shard.

Based on my experience fighting their commander, if Theresis... Amiya, what would you say our chances are?

No, we should avoid a direct confrontation with him at all costs. No one is strong enough to singlehandedly defeat Theresis.

Besides, our greatest threat right now is not a single powerful Sarkaz hero. Rather, it is their ambition to see their plans come to fruition.

We will only be able to end this war quickly by stopping it from happening.

A few squads on their own can't end a war. We still need the Victorian military.

It's true that the Duke of Windermere perishing on the front lines is beyond what any of us might have...

Oh.

Forgive me... Lady Delphine.

Standing beside you now is an intelligence officer in the service of Duke Windermere, not her daughter.

Pay me no mind.

The Duke of Windermere's untimely passing has disrupted the fragile balance on the outskirts of Londinium. They are on the brink of war.

Heh, until a few weeks ago, I was still under the impression that if the dukes were to put their minds to it and attack Londinium together, a Sarkaz defeat would have been all but assured.

This will be a decisive battle, one far worse than what any of the bigwigs have been anticipating.

I'd like to say they wished this upon themselves, but it's the frontline soldiers and innocent citizens who are suffering right now.

So, when the time comes... who's going to win? Us, the Exemplars, or the dukes?