mostma

After all, Andoain was always worried about the future, always lamenting over the smallest of tragedies.

In a way, she could even say that Fiammetta's anger at Andoain's actions was born out of Fiammetta's approval of him—

Considering Fiammetta's sense of justice, it is no wonder that she always held Andoain in high regard for the concern he showed for others, in comparison to Fiammetta herself, who always seemed a little aloof and removed.

However, Mostima was not obsessed with the reasons for Andoain's madness. It was not simply because of the emotions that she sensed from the pair at that instant.

Instead, it is because she had a feeling, a feeling that she had perhaps harbored from the moment she joined Andoain's squad, even the moment she first saw Andoain—

They were walking divergent paths, and it was inevitable that they must go their separate ways.

It was like the many thousands of pieces before her eyes, each one potentially revealing the answer to a question. Perhaps the answer to the ultimate question will reveal itself when all the pieces are exhausted.

Andoain will choose to walk toward those pieces without hesitation, stepping into the dark mire where the stars shine.

As for her—she chose to turn back.

When I saw what I saw, I thought—

Oh, how terrible.

I didn't feel anything else.

That's why I didn't understand the struggle that a certain somebody was going through.

But now—

Mostima, those horns...

Are you fallen?!

These past two years, I've traveled the lands as a Legatus, and I've come to a conclusion—

Lovely bastards, the Sanktas are.

I've just relearned how to live with this land, after realizing that I was a bastard.

Tell El that I have a new mission. I'll be in Lungmen for a while.

I ran into this guy by the name of 'Emperor' six months ago. He's in Lungmen too. I think I'll pay him a visit.

Mostima turns around at the hillside.

She can see the town square in the distance.

Susan and Melissa have already started their preparations. A crowd has assembled to watch them, and it is growing bigger.

The red hair of a certain Sankta stands out in the crowd. She goes from one side to another, helping out here and there, seemingly having forgotten why she was here in the first place.

For once, Mostima is not wearing her hood. She lets the breeze brush against her cheeks and run through her hair.

I think I understand you a little better now, Andoain.

Maybe I should have had a few more drinks with you. Maybe I should have let you have more time together with Lemuen.

Alright, I know, you were always going to leave in the end.

But there's something that I want to say.

Now that I've gotten to know you better, I can say with certainty—

I won't make the same choices you did.

Nothing can bear the burden of the happiness of all the people. Not you, not me, not even Laterano.

All we can do is to focus on what we can see.

Just like I've been taking El around these past two years, fulfilling a little of the responsibility I bear for her coming out of Laterano to find me. That's all.

I don't hate you like Fiammetta does. But don't expect a warm welcome when we meet again.

Wherever that might be, our journey will take us there.