glady

Gladiia weightlessly brandishes her lance. An alloy not known to land strikes stone brick at a speed the naked eye cannot perceive. With her at the center, the chapel's entire floor roars as it subsides.

As I expected.

Did you deliberately construct such an inferior experimentation site below a masquerade of a building, simply to trick the landwalkers' gaze?

Moreover, I'm astonished these petty tricks could actually win such outstanding results.

I once again must reassess the grade of these land nations' organizations.

*cough*... *cough* *cough*! This weapon of yours! And your strength... is this Originium Arts?

Heh, Originium Arts.

It—It couldn't be... you... you're...

If... you're the one the bishops spoke of... then you should've been gravely wounded months ago!

You know of what occurred three months ago on the seafloor?

No.

You've met someone else on the shore.

Who was it—that you met?

This speed... *wheeze*... *wheeze*... Why were you unmoving before?

I am tired of moving on dry land.

If standing still will dispose of you shameful ambling trash, why should I waste the further energy?

I... I do not know... We only guard... You may not destroy this place...

Quite right. You are inferior, and there are limits to the faith you grasp.

Then I can only change to a different topic.

How many more individuals do you keep on dry land?

How many more plots do you plot against Ægir?

And—why—do you research artificial integration of Originium with Ægir bodies?

*wheeze*... *sniff*... *sniff*... The scent...

Don't waste the energy.

Turning into Sea Terrors will only hasten your deaths.

It... It couldn't... aaarghhhh—!

Perfect. (Ægirian) I wanted you to die a little faster, anyhow.

So frail that a single sweep destroys you all.

Urgh—

This... gripe in my stomach... is back again. Ever since I came ashore, it hasn't ceased.

These morons that couldn't even turn fully into Sea Terrors... I see I'm suited only to slaughtering such prey here!

And these... Ægir who came ashore, they've all become indistinguishable from land-dwellers.

How long does it take, from leaving the seawater, to the last hint of moisture evaporating from the body?

Whether this end, or another, no matter which...

No... I cannot...!

(Vomits)

But...

...are there others who truly yet live?

If there are, how much time must I spend before I can rescue them?

Gladiia senses her internal temperature still rapidly rising, just as it does on the surface of her body.

Do not stop, you waste.

Though I cannot return to Ægir... no, precisely because I cannot return for now, I must do this.

Retrieve my hunter. Continue to fulfill my duty.

Fight on without rest or pause.

—For Ægir.

...Who is it?

(Shriek)

I suggest you halt your attack.

Though your strength is uncommon, I'm afraid no one can force me to halt.

Once more, and this chapel will collapse.

You don't pay mind to the Penal Battalion, but I guarantee you, not even you would want to catch the eye of Iberia's Inquisitors.

Land bird...

This meaningless clashing will only slow your search for your comrades.

(Ægirian) Perhaps the nation of the seafloor can still wait.

(Ægirian) For the stranded hunters, there is no such guarantee.

You... You know of Ægir?! You even know our...

Three months oh-seven days ago, fierce oceanbound visions once again manifested in the seas south of Iberia. This information was rapidly curtailed by Iberia's government, but I had my own means to learn of it.

You sought me intentionally. And perhaps you found this place too, like I did?

You can so much as fully understand. I've been waiting for you, and waiting for a very long time.

You've been sent ashore by an exceptional current. It may be extremely painful for you, but for us and Ægir, it is a chance.

You are not hostile. Or else, your revealing this information would have sufficed for me to take your life.

You could do so, but—there is no need for it.

You have amply sensed that I and the sea have no connection. But in reality, between dry land and the ocean, no distance separates.

The ocean in its pride may rarely notice the land, but the land cannot stand by as it sees disaster unfolding in the ocean.

Since my coming here... you are the first to instill awe in me.

You are very well aware, this is not a place for conversation.

Moreover, with how you've dragged your badly injured body to an unfamiliar environment, you cannot hold out for much longer.

Long enough for me to find and cut this trash to pieces.

You know this battle will continue for a very long time.

If they weren't so good at hiding, would Ægir have allowed them to last this long?

What they are and do does not amount to a threat against Ægir.

You think to draw a distinction between them and they, but I'm afraid that's not how they themselves think.

Will you remain here, continuing to charge me with lance in hand, or shall you leave, together with me, so we can discuss a possible collaboration—

The choice is yours.

Ægir's fate, and that of your comrades, Iberia and even this great land... all rest in your hands.

Before we initiate discussion as to specific matters of cooperation, would you first tell me your name?

Of course.