level_act17side_st12

*gasp* —!

Over here!

Hurry! Grab my hand!

A single, solitary boat.

How far is it from the Eye of Iberia? How far is it from Gran Faro?

Ah, um, okay—!

Irene grabs onto his hand.

There is no difference between the hand of an Ægir and that of a Liberi.

Um— S-Sorry, I'm not very strong...

It's... fine...

I was scared out of my wits when I saw the ship explode in the distance! Are you all okay?!

As long as you're fine, Irene. Adjust your breathing. You know how to swim, right?

Luckily for us, the waters are pretty calm right now.

*gasp*... *gasp*... Where are the others?

...I need to check on a few things.

Just now, was that... Ægir? This close to us? Has the Stultifera been circling above an Ægir city this entire time?

We might've been able to find a way in to check out the city on our own, but you never would've made it.

Plus, the squad captain didn't seem keen on just going home happily ever after. And no way would there be a city this close to land; I don't remember anything like that.

*cough* *cough*... *pant*...

So, are you going to head back to that city?

No. Gladiia said this place is also Seaborn territory. The city must be a refugee village.

What?

The Ægir you people call Islanders are refugees from the collapse of the cities closest to land.

...We should go help them.

Two things.

Ulpianus isn't dead, but he refused to work with us.

And there are still other Seaborn nearby, drawn here by that spurt of evolution. The entire swarm is extremely restless.

We can use this opportunity to get back down there, but we wouldn't be able to leave.

So... we finally found a city from our homeland, and now we're just going to turn around and leave?

Gladiia wordlessly glances at Skadi.

She hides it well. Just as she did herself, in all those silent moments when she gently rubbed her neck.

We don't have a choice.

Why?!

There shouldn't be a city here.

We... We should head back to shore and regroup.

Our duty is to defend Ægir, not to 'go home.'

How'd you manage this?

Huh? Oh, are you talking to me? What do you mean?

This ship is even more bare-bones than ours was. And how did you find us? The sea is incredibly vast.

I... I compared each of the signals from the Stultifera Navis to her location... and discovered a pattern. So I thought, um, it might be worth a shot...

Worth a shot? What kind of deviation was there in that pattern?

Umm, two to three hundred nautical miles?

That can't even be called a pattern. If you had bet wrong, you would've had slim to no chance of meeting up with us, and died out at sea on your own.

...You're a lunatic.

Yes...

But... I wanted to ask a question... So please don't laugh at me, ma'am.

I can't laugh anymore.

...Am I a great person?

Your grandparents, your parents... two generations of Gran Faro gave everything they had for this blueprint. Their greatness should have been immortalized forever.

...Hah.

I wouldn't go that far.

Maybe a lucky one.

Haha... Is that so?

Maestro... and my other colleagues in the Inquisition, always held this belief:

Only those who've sacrificed themselves are worthy of the word, 'great.' In every moment where we're fighting for Iberia and struggling to survive, we are nothing more than ordinary people, striding forward with enormous responsibilities.

And it's not that Inquisitors enjoy belittling ourselves. We've simply chosen to deal with Iberia in the harshest way possible because the moment we let our guards down, we will be undone.

But until then, as long as the will of man is enough to ignite this lantern, then I believe... there isn't any difference between us.

We're just like all those citizens struggling bitterly in their own ways. As long as we have goodwill to spare, they too are soldiers willing to lay down their lives for the restoration of their homeland.

...Just like the laborers of old Gran Faro.

Jordi, luck won't be on your side forever. If you have a chance to contact the Inquisition again... Um, what I mean is, if you want to work with us—

—You'll definitely have that opportunity.

Haha... Well, I actually... Um, just out of curiosity...

I see you've brought back some of the Stultifera's timeless knowledge. Might you actually be—

You managed to rescue three Hunters in a single breath. As an Ægir, your actions might be worth a medal from the consul herself.

Swimming back would've been very hard. And who knows what could happen right above their nest?

I have no idea what compelled someone like you, born in Gran Faro, to go this far, but good job.

On behalf of the Ægir... and the Iberians.

...Mhm.

Then let's head back home!

Welcome back, Hunters. And Irene, of course.

The High Inquisitor, he...

How did you know?

We've already sorted through his relics. Including those of our comrades who died beneath this lighthouse.

We won't be able to deal with them properly until the Penal Battalion arrives though.

These lowly Sea Terrors could not defeat High Inquisitor Dario, but in order to protect the Eye of Iberia, he chose to lay down his life to buy time.

Inquisitors have no time to grieve, Irene. Dario had great expectations for you, and you must move forward.

...Yes, sir!

However...

His lantern remains intact, and I've placed it over there.

Go now.

Yes, sir...

Seems like the Penal Battalion ran into some trouble. So much for the great naval power of Iberia.

...So the Stultifera Navis has sunk. This isn't quite the outcome we were expecting either.

Indeed. Even for us, this is a significant setback.

But we learned quite a few things, and—

You found an Ægir city.

Kal'tsit has already shared her conjecture with me, so perhaps you will wish to hear it too.

The Inquisition has always believed in maintaining control. From Sal Viento to the Stultifera, we will gradually recapture the glory that rightfully belongs to Iberia.

But we are forced to admit that, perhaps, even preserving the status quo is enough to... stretch our forces thin.

Madame Consul—

What did you witness aboard that ship?

This is his lantern... The High Inquisitor's lantern... Scorched black, thick with the stench of Sea Terrors.

I... High Inquisitor...

Maestro!

I completed the Inquisition's mission! I found the Stultifera!

Unfortunately, it ended up sinking! But... aboard the ship, every single Iberian! In their own way, they were fighting until the very end!

High Inquisitor!

I now... understand the significance of passing judgment! I understand the enemy we face!

I— will not hesitate, nor will I falter!

For Iberia's prosperity, for Iberia's defense, and for Iberia's orderliness and integrity, I shall raise my sword and my light!

Alfonso, he... No, this can't be!

Sixty years? What torture is this? Even a criminal subjected to the harshest of punishment would not last for a year!

But he... he...

Carmen falls silent. He leans over and sits down on the reef.

Sea Terrors carcasses are piled high into a mountain. There is no trace of the eldritch beasts, only the remaining tendrils of the nethersea brand retreating back to sea. The ocean's surface emits a pale blue light, usurping the sky's privilege.

He should be enjoying this victory. He accomplished what the Inquisition set out to do. The Penal Battalion is about to arrive, and all things are about to reach a satisfactory conclusion.

But he can only remain silent.

Up until a steam whistle roars in the distance. The Penal Battalion has arrived at the Eye of Iberia.

You can see the corner of the town from here. If I remember right, it was called... Reconstruction Hill.

Thiago didn't pass peacefully, and I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing. But...

Still, thank you all.

Don't mention it.

I don't mind dedicating a song to a hero at a solemn funeral.

Seems like Frost is back.

Mhm. We'll head back too in a little bit.

What about you, Iberian? You've had a rough few days, haven't you?

Gran Faro is Thiago's hometown. Just as Ægir is home to all of you, as well as my Abyssal Hunter buddies.

Maybe I joke around too much normally, and forgot...

That Iberia is also my home. To be honest, this isn't cathartic at all.

Wasn't that doctor going to help you out with something? You've been working for her, haven't you?

No, that's already dealt with. That's why I'm willing to stay with Rhodes Island.

That said...

...I didn't do a damn thing.

Hurry, hurry! Move the supplies into the warehouse!

Huh, what about the number of tents? Didn't the old guy already explain it?! Ugh—

Um...

J-Jordi? You're back?

What? The Inquisition took you away and actually let you come back? Where did you go?

A bunch of people from the Penal Battalion took us away, but then brought us back into town. Seems like they're going to war with something, and now they want us setting up tents.

Jeez, what's going to happen to Gran Faro? Oh, and uh, have you seen Thiago?

Jordi Fontanarossa.

Ah... Lord Carmen, sir... And Madame Inquisitor!

...Mhm.

We'd like to have a private chat with this Ægir.

Ah, of course! Right away!

M-Me?

Come with me. Let's take a walk around town, shall we?

Irene made up her mind on the way back.

M-Made up her mind? About what?

Originally, High Inquisitor Dario intended to entrust Irene to me, so that I could cultivate her until she was prepared for the seat of High Inquisitor.

His death in battle was unexpected. Though the day would've come sooner or later, he did not have to accept his fate so soon.

But Irene has made up her mind.

She will give up her position as Inquisitor.

Huh? Wait, what? Why?!

This is a decision I've come to after a lot of thought.

It has nothing to do with you, though, so please just keep listening.

Oh, okay...

The problem is you, Ægir. You know too much. You're too deeply involved. And the Ægir in this town are too blasphemous.

You've also been of great help.

As frail and weak as you are, your death would've been but another grain of sand. But you have shown great strength. Even if it's nothing more than your own little spark, it is still valuable.

I... I keep thinking... Why am I still alive? I'm not as noble as you any of you, or as resolute.

Jordi, you will be... the first Ægir to join the Inquisition.

Huh? Wha–? Me? Join the Inquisition?

Strictly speaking, I won't give you a chance to refuse. Gran Faro needs more hands than ever, and you will play a pivotal role as an Ægir.

After that, hrmm. Maybe I could use a young secretary?

Wait, hold on, you want me? To join the Inquisition?

B-But I'm not sure if I want—

I know you don't. Many members of the Inquisition hold deeply-rooted prejudices against the Ægir, and wouldn't want you joining either.

But don't you want to see it? The future that Iberia once promised to Gran Faro, and to Thiago?

Joining the Inquisition will be a test. As an Ægir, you wouldn't be wrong to treat it as a trial by fire. Or as practice for enduring hardship.

Don't get the wrong idea.

I... I'll give it some thought.

Mhm.

Then, what about you, Doña Irene? Your maestro...

My status as an Inquisitor hasn't done me any favors in my relationship with the Abyssal Hunters, or even the Ægir, so I got rid of it.

But abandoning a faith that's supported me to this day, especially after the untimely demise of my maestro... has not been an easy decision.

Please... let's not talk about this now. Maybe if we meet again someday.

I'm sorry.

It's just...

Irene looks at the sculpture in the plaza. A scaled-down version of the Eye of Iberia.

In the chaos of battle, streets were torn up, houses were destroyed, and makeshift tents were erected.

And the statue has always looked out over all of it.

Even though our enemy is well beyond the reach of the law, Iberia must banish this blasphemy.

Victory will be ours.

I owe you my gratitude, Frost. You helped Jordi, as well as the Hunters.

Say no more, it was just a little workout. Those disobedient little rascals aren't the only ones who can change the direction of the tides.

Next time, make sure you come cheer for us though.

Sure.

Alrighty, I'm gonna go catch up with Aya and the others then.

Stepped out a second and they went and ghosted me.

(Riffs with slight dissatisfaction)

Oh right, Kal'tsit...

Since we came all this way, we can't just go back empty-handed. We can awaken whenever you're ready.

Aya would say the same.

...Thank you very much. Maybe, in time, we really will be able to form a working partnership.

(Riffs to signify her departure)

So, this is the truth that Breogan discovered.

'Feranmut' and 'Leviathan'. The connection between the two.

If these massive creatures had disappeared from the ocean long ago, yet continued to survive on land in this form—

They're not the same, Gladiia.

Great Yan, Sargon, Sami. These places have all faced grave situations caused by Feranmuts.

But remember.

The ocean as a catalyst of mutation is both unique and irreplaceable. Even I cannot comprehend its principles, or its trajectory.

All I can see are the results, and make deductions from that. And what I predict is a terrible, terrible future.

Also, I'd imagine Breogan discovered more than one truth. And as you said, if there is another Abyssal Hunter still alive—

There is more than one Leviathan. The one we slew is but a small part of what the Ægir civilization concealed.

Besides...

The one you killed still lives on inside Skadi's body.

Then my worst-case scenario came true. You made the right choice not to return to Ægir.

Rhodes Island has already done enough for us. You have your own work ahead of you. As for what comes next, we will take that step ourselves.

Rhodes Island... has its responsibilities. Our most stellar operators will ensure that the organization continues running.

But I have my own responsibilities, across all these countless years.

Time and again, I have tried to resolve the problem facing Ægir. But it is far removed from the land, unique and without precedent.

We can't wait any longer.

The ocean's problem is of the same scale as Originium.

If civilization is to continue, then we must overcome this calamity.

Even as this world faces constant threats, divisions grow and wars ignite without cease, just as the name Stultifera Navis implies.

Terra is certainly full of fools, both malicious and ignorant, but it is also full of saints, who seek reason above madness and chaos.

Now that you know the source of evolution, all our conjectures have been verified. Ægir's cities are within reach, and even arrogant Iberia has emerged from its shell.

Chief Designer of Warfare, let us begin.

(Shakes neck around in dissatisfaction)

Calm down, Rocinante.

(Swings neck around more violently)

Rocinante...

(Brays)

...Where are we going?

The terrible waves, are coming.

We, will defeat them.

We, are the terrible waves.

The terrible waves. As long as there is water in the ocean, a moon in the heavens, and wind in the sky, the waves will not abate.

The enemy you see in your madness is truly too majestic.

Go! (Rasping growl) Hyah!

(Elated braying)

(Rasping roar) —!

I will not allow, the sea, another ripple!

Go!