level_act18d0_07_end

5下

Modern Day

4:14 P.M. \ Clear

Central Sargon, Ibut Region, Warzone

I find myself looking back on those events often, during my most difficult times.

Whenever I grow tired of striking the iron, whenever I am unsatisfied with inferior materials that result in products less than satisfactory—The events I witnessed that day immediately come to mind.

—So you took care of all those mercenaries by yourself—?

No, he planted those weapons beforehand... and they self-destructed.

I'm surprised you could bring yourself to actually do it... Didn't you make all those things yourself...?

What kind of craftsman has lingering affection for their creations? The reason we pour our emotions into our work is to create an even more refined product, not to be tied down by our feelings.

So you had it all figured out beforehand, eh?

I eliminated all the factors unbeneficial to us. What is wrong about that?

—Ugh, this burnt smell stinks...

Don't tell me Rhodes Island claims to be pacifist.

Though I can certainly tell you two are not.

So... what did you see that day again...?

Ah, has either of you personally seen her in combat?

It is as though she had a birds-eye view from up in the sky. Everything was under her control.

We're close. Very close.

Sarkaz... Devils... She won. She won indeed. Old Isin knew this is exactly how it would turn out...

Ahem, do you have to follow me around?

Of course, Lady Kal'tsit asked Old Isin to. Until the moment she steps out of Sargon, her wish is Old Isin's command.

Hmm, is that her over there...?

On the other side of the hills, the smell of Originium gunpowder and blood yet lingers in the sandstorm, a phenomenon that has become all but natural to Elliot.

A gust of wind blows past, carrying away with it the dust. Under the clear sun, the strange creature's large stature appears as though it is distorting even the sunlight.

There, Kal'tsit stands solemnly.

She is as calm and quiet as one can be.

*Cough*—

You could've become a warrior, nameless mercenary. A Sarkaz Warrior.

My death... is for a greater purpose, Caster.

Not going to finish me?

Let's see—

(Angry low roar)

Tsk... This monster... I'm more than ready to die. Are a few extra scratches that much to ask for?

(Roars)

Enough, Mon3tr.

He's a dead man with those injuries.

(Dissatisfied hisses)

Hah... Looks like we saved the padishah some trouble...

Sarkaz... What's your name...?

Pfft... Which one?

Tell me, Caster. The Kazdel you were talking about... How does it look now?

Terrible still.

But the Sarkaz are rebuilding their homes.

Home...? How could us devils... us Infected possibly have one...

I've never left Sargon...

The Sarkaz have tried to rebuild 'Kazdel', their home for centuries, though they have never succeeded.

Everyone has a different idea as to what the term 'homeland' means, but as it stands right now, Kazdel is perhaps as close as you can get to the term's original meaning.

The 'Teekaz' deserve a home.

Tsk... That does...

...have a nice ring to it...

Poor devil, poor devil. He is gone, no longer with us.

You two shouldn't have come.

You made quite a ruckus here. Old Isin thinks this place could use some cleaning to avoid catching anyone's attention...

You took all of them down by yourself...?

(Shakes head in dissatisfaction)

Um, okay. You two... took down a whole mercenary squad? How many of them were there?

It was no easy task. I would've been in quite a tight spot if they weren't as afraid of Mon3tr as they were.

Let's pick up the pace. We've already found ourselves in seven skirmishes since we left Redhorn.

And now we have an entire Sarkaz mercenary squad. We'll likely face the lord ameer's guards next or the padishah's elite troops. No matter the case, the more we run, the more fierce our enemies become.

Old Isin gets the impression that you didn't want to kill them?

You're not wrong.

You seem to have special feelings for Sarkaz... Oh, pardon Old Isin. Old Isin should not have asked.

The sun is setting soon, Lady Kal'tsit. We must bury these bodies right away. It looks like their sand buggy will save us quite a bit...

We need to be quick.

Can knowledge be a means to buy over a person's heart? Elliot has never so much as thought about that. He used to be naive, but he was also gifted precisely because of this. Of course, he cannot understand why Old Isin would follow everything Kal'tsit says after that exchange of theirs.

It is as though he lives in the distant past. He merely gazes at the far end of Sargon's golden sands, waiting for someone to come give him the answer he has always sought.

Is knowing what the answer is all that he ever wanted?

This... is the entrance to the old market. This is the Reefsteep Town.

Yet another Sargon town...

Old Isin knows where the entrance is... The old market is no secret. Anyone has the right to look for that which they want here.

Come with Old Isin.

Old Isin...? I thought you died in the golden sands!

Old Isin is fortunate to survive.

Hm, are those two behind you Columbians...? Columbians on the run. That box they have gotta be worth some money, then.

Oh, relax. Why so tense? I'll give you 400 gold coins for that box.

Sorry, but it's not for sale.

Ah, that's too bad...

No worries, I'm sure we'll have more chances to do business with each other. Isn't that right, Old Isin? Haha.

Please don't let it get to you, Lady. This happens often here.

She isn't actually that curious about the box...

If she actually had her mind set on it, we well wouldn't be getting much sleep in the future.

She opened at 400 coins...?

This is the Reefsteep Black Market. The vibrant heart of Ibut.

How long are we staying here...?

This will be a long journey. It will take Old Isin time to prepare. Perhaps two weeks.

Isin, I'm counting on you.

Mm, what is this for...? Gold coins? Old Isin needs no money at all...

Our enemies are still coming after us. We need to get the preparations done as soon as possible.

Old Isin understands, but please keep your coins. Old Isin is in no place to take them... and Old Isin still has much to ask you.

Very well, I understand... Feel free to ask me any time. Even now.

Thank you... Old Isin is far too old... Old Isin has forgotten far too many important things.

Alas, most of those who remembers what I wish to know have come and gone. That is why Old Isin is looking for clues...

Lady, you are young. Normally, Old Isin would not hold out hope for those your age... but you know of that city, the secrets that disappeared in those great winds long ago.

What do you want to remember, old Savra?

Old Isin once served a padishah... The Padishah of the Land of Reefsteep. The padishah saw Old Isin as a friend and would even die for Old Isin. An honor Old Isin can never fully repay...

Yet... it has been far too long. Old Isin has forgotten the words of the padishah. Before Old Isin dies, Old Isin must remember his words.

The disaster that destroyed the city left you directionless.

It has been too long, Lady. Look, you remember even that Catastrophe—

The padishah who ruled Reefsteep doesn't show up in the history books much, but, at the very least, the written accounts and folklores do not mention a Savra fortune teller.

It will probably take some time if you want to figure out who you are.

Oh, that's fine—Even if you must leave this place behind and there is still a long wait ahead, Old Isin will patiently await your return.

Old Isin dares not to die. Old Isin only asks you to remember this.

I promise you.

Please, come with Old Isin. Old Isin has a home here. An old dwelling...

Umm...?

Isn't this just a normal—Wait, what's this?

Pure gold—?

You buried a whole mountain of pure gold here?!

These are Old Isin's riches... but Old Isin had no way to spend them. Now, Old Isin is glad to finally give them purpose.

That's no small sum you have. Has no one gone after your riches before?

Old Isin was the padishah's favorite courtier. Even if Old Isin had not a bean to his name, Old Isin will always be protected.

Old Isin will get started with the preparations now.

What do you want to know?

Far too much, my lady...

But you possess all the answers.

It feels pretty empty up here...

A black market always starts out as a normal underground bazaar. It's a fairly common sight for areas barraged by Catastrophes.

When nightfall comes, the lights are moved underground.

Something on your mind?

I've been on the run with you for a while now, but you're still keeping me in the dark for a lot things. Like that old Savra with amnesia.

Long ago... there used to be a city here. The only nomadic city in Ibut's vast territory.

The building of a city is a miracle in itself, but, before the Reefsteep Padishah, no one had managed to unite all of Ibut. And the symbol of that unity? That city among the golden sands.

That was what inspired everyone to unite under his rule. That era was not that long ago, and I believe there are still a fair amount of people out there wallowing in their homeland's former glory.

Unfortunately, it was not meant to last. The city met its fate during a Catastrophe. Supposedly, after the padishah had evacuated all his citizens and workers, he simply lamented and lashed out at the gathering storm.

Lash out... at the Catastrophe?

That's how it was recorded in history, at least, but it most likely actually happened.

The Catastrophe laid waste on the padishah's grand achievement in a brief moment. In just one night, all its citizens became refugees. They very well could have built a new home together, but with the destruction of the city... everything was left behind in that sandstorm, forgotten.

Old Isin was among them. The lords ameer and the new padishah didn't want to spend a huge sum of money to rebuild the city. Thanks to that, their descendants likely had no idea where to begin to rebuild their homeland.

This filled them with grief, and this is also why they give all those who still respect the 'Land of Reefsteep' the same amount of respect.

So... Is that why they're helping us...? Because it's like helping out their countrymen?

From the looks of it, we'll get to leave Sargon soon, right?

If everything goes well, we should be leaving Sargon territory within the month.

And we're going to Ursus?

That's right.

Why?

I don't get it. Did you really abandon everything you had in Columbia and came to Sargon just to keep our research from becoming the powder keg that sparks a war?

None of you could've possibly foreseen what the chain of events would eventually lead to.

And you can...?

If you really want me to give you an answer, I'll say yes.

It would be so much easier for you if you killed me and destroyed the box now... but, here you are, letting me hold onto it.

Do you want me to do that?

No...

At first... I was really bothered that I was the only survivor, but I don't feel that way anymore.

Kal'tsit... If I give you this box now, will you do something for me... for us?

You know the Ibuti Lord Ameer was dragged into this mess. From Sargon to Columbia, the accomplices of this conspiracy are everywhere.

But I still want them to pay the price...

See, this box—It's my one and only trump card.

But once it's destroyed, you'll have nothing—

—Nothing?

Actually... Kal'tsit, ever since the beginning, I've always felt I didn't need this box.

I remember all the details, and I can replicate our past results.

You...

Of course, it'll take a long time, and there's probably going to be lots of difficult issues... but I think I can do it.

If, just like you said, there's some kind of way to turn this Originium energy source into a weapon—

This is the first time you are looking me in the eyes, Kal'tsit. The first time you aren't treating me as a kid or someone to be protected, but as a scientist, a Columbian.

Perhaps I've been underestimating you because of your age, Elliot.

Relax, I won't let these bad guys use the Professor's research as they please. I won't.

But I will use it to finish one last thing.

You don't understand how Professor Thorne's research came to be.

I heard him say before that the basis of the technology came from a set of ancient ruins that archaeologists found in Sarkaz, and it could provide nomadic cities an entirely new and convenient energy source—

—I'll say it again. If misused, this could easily bury half of Sargon under its golden sands.

Hmm...

Well, you were the head of the mercenaries to begin with. You probably have a few other tricks up your sleeve just to be safe, don't you, 'Adviser?'

Such as... taking me out right now. The way you people like to take care of things.

(Happy sounds)

Go back inside...

You—

Enough with the tough act, Elliot. With the way you are now, you can't make a sensible decision.

You should really think about what it is that you want to do carefully.

Thank you, thank you. This is all that Old Isin wants.

You're going so far away?

Old Isin won't be going... Old Isin will go nowhere.

Alright, your call. You got the cash, and I got the goods. It's as simple as that.

You need any help packing?

No, no need. We must keep my lady's whereabouts a secret...

Isin.

Ah, my lady. The preparations are almost complete. We have medicine, food, water, and a small amount of refined Originium Ingots.

This car here's stolen, and it's already been modified about four or five times by the Vouivre.

It's kinda beat up, but that's the only downside to it. It's got everything you want in a car, even got a Multi-Grenade Launcher.

I heard you guys are going north? Where to? Sami, perhaps? Whoa, will you guys actually make it that far?

As for your compensation...

All pure gold? I ain't giving change, you know. That's a pain in the butt.

Just like how we were treated in the old days, Old Isin is never stingy when it comes to compensation.

Heh. Well, thanks!

Let's call it a day here, Isin.

Very well, my lady... If all goes well, you will be departing on your journey within the next three days.

—Leithanian Arts Units' parts are nice and all, but they're such a hassle to use, and they are usually pretty rough. The Columbians make much better stuff.

I got some new wares here... Originium weapons straight from Minos. They...

—Once you place the order, you gotta buy it. What about it don't you understand—

How lively... Old Isin doesn't hate this place at all.

If you have wealth and status here, why roam the streets elsewhere in Ibut?

Old Isin wants to help Sargonians. This ideal helped Old Isin move forward and helped support his many lifetimes.

Compared to the average lifespan of a Savra, you have lived quite a long time. Is this an effect of your Originium Arts?

Old Isin... has forgotten even what his Originium Arts could do... Old Isin can fiddle with this Originium crystal ball, but Old Isin does not remember what kind of tricks it conjured up back in those grand, radiant days.

This isn't a normal physiological disease. Your brain and body are under the influence of some kind of Arts.

Lady Kal'tsit... Old Isin thinks that, with the Reefsteep lost to the storm, perhaps there are no more clues to be found anywhere but in the centermost areas of Sargon...

Have you been to that fabled golden city?

You mean the capital of Sargon?

Though its industrial prowess has been advancing day by day, Sargon's capital has never once opted to relocate its nomadic city.

In the winds, the sands ceaselessly beat against Sargon's walls as time goes on and on...

Even Catastrophes cannot rock Sargon's core.

Old Isin thinks what he has forgotten is there. Old Isin can remember everything there... but that is a place that Old Isin can never reach...

Only the padishahs and a few lords ameer who were granted the royal privilege may see that city hidden deep within the sandstorms.

You said you wanted an answer.

Old Isin remembers nothing but a dream... In the dream, amid those boundless hotlands, the armies simply charged toward the horizon devoid of people...

All Old Isin remembers of it is that the Iron Heels hoisted a scarlet web and charged toward the southernmost horizons of Sargon.

But this has nothing to do with the Reefsteep. Is this perhaps a key that could lead to Old Isin's past?

Hang on a second. Could you—

Wait...

You could not have known that... The conquest of the Kheshigs of Nightzmora took place over a thousand years ago... How does this have anything to do with Reefsteep?

Kheshigs... The Nightzmora's royal debt... Old Isin knows. Old Isin knows... but why?

Did you serve a Nightzmoran offspring?

The king of Sargon created a Kuranta of Nightzmoran blood padishah?

Old Isin... seems to...

Padishah... Reefsteep Padishah... Old Isin's master a Kuranta? A descendant of Nightzmora?

The two of you made for the Watchman's walls together, and he must have recounted to you the exploits of his bloodline... something that he must've taken pride in.

Walls, yes, but no mere city walls. It was to the south. Yes, the south! Atop the hotlands that not even Sargonians would set foot on, there stood the entrance to lands yet undiscovered by man—

Nightzmora... A Nightzmoran was created padishah, and the Ibut region was once the center of his political exploits.

He didn't choose to merely wallow in the luxuries promised to him by the lords ameer. Instead, his thirst for conquest drove him to...

...to conquer these deserts, yes... The padishah wanted to conquer these golden sands. He led the people, and built an entirely new city... A nomadic city...

According to the history books, he almost succeeded.

As for you, even though he treated you with nothing but benevolence, even though he passed away long ago... you remain lost in his life.

Old Isin...

Old Isin remembers now...

Old Isin is not a gatekeeper... and certainly not the padishah's close friend... Old Isin was... just a jester before them...

No... Old Isin remembers now... No, no, no... Was it those summer nights?

*Cough*—

Please, calm down a little.

Right... Age has left Old Isin's memories in a muddle... You are right... Once upon a time, the padishah would hold a banquet at his palace every starry night and address all those in attendance.

No... No... *Whimpers*... Old Isin... was undeserving to bask in his glory and radiance... *Whimpers*...

You've been under his Originium Arts' influence, and the long nightmare has twisted your thinking... Though this is not something he had done to you deliberately.

His subjects went voluntarily. There was none who could resist those extraordinary fantasies, curiosity, longing, and thirst for knowledge. All of it worked to keep us enthralled by the padishah's charm.

You were lost in your own dreams.

No... It shouldn't be... Old Isin shouldn't...

Please... Allow Old Isin a brief moment of peace... Please... leave Old Isin alone...

We're leaving tomorrow.

What about Old Isin...?

He needs some time to clear up his thoughts.

The Nightzmora had been tormenting him for way too long. He's been trying to embrace the past in his dreams.

I don't get it...

We have no use for the box anymore.

It was our final trump card, but now that we are leaving Sargon behind us, it makes no difference to us anymore.

This is mine...

The last thing I still have.

That's why I'm leaving the decision to you...

What will you do?

You're forcing me to make a decision...

I'm not forcing you to do anything. Even if you are actually able to replicate technology behind it and break away from its original... form, with where the Originium industries are currently, that will do you no good at all.

Tsk...

The young researcher sets the box down after hesitating briefly.

He has almost completely forgotten what is inside the box despite the fact he has kept it on his person for the entire journey.

This...

The blue Originium crystals are discharging tiny, stable sparks.

It's beautiful...

Is this... really as dangerous as you've been making it out to be?

A simple sample such as this won't help explain why. Once you master the core principles behind it, you will be able to craft from it a grenade capable of wiping out an entire city with ease.

What do you think will happen if the Ibuti Lord Ameer or Padishah Murad got their hands on this technology?

The technology is still being developed. The bad guys will get their hands on it sooner or later.

The truth is... this Originium crystal sample is the only one of its kind.

As an Originium crystal, it actually isn't particularly special on its own. It is how it came to take its current form that makes it special. It was found in an excavation.

You can always count on the archaeologists to discover new secrets...

The Columbians only ever found three Originium samples like this one. Without exception... they all came from the surroundings of a certain Sarkaz ruin.

What's going to happen if you destroy them?

The sample's explosive range is hardly comparable to the electrical devices we use in experiments. However, because of its nature, it will nonetheless put us in danger—the danger of being infected with Oripathy.

Well, alright.

You said it's one of a kind? Well, then. I know how to take care of it now.

—Wait!

You can't—Mon3tr, protect him!

(Dissatisfied shrieks)

The boy smashed the beautiful crystal to pieces.

In an instant, the bright light of the electric sparks has engulfed everything in the immediate area.

Agh—Why... are you stopping me...?!

Didn't you hear me...? This is a piece of Originium!

You will get infected!

Gah... hah...

So what?!

Do you hate the Infected? Do you despise them? Hah.

Well, perfect! I don't owe you anything anymore now—!

I'm Infected myself...

Uh—Wha—

Ugh... Argh...! It hurts...! My head...!

Those are the symptoms of an acute infection. We need to get you treated right away.

I don't—Argh—need it—!

I'm just keeping you from turning to Originium dust within the next few hours.

You chose the wrong path, Elliot.

Even if you were trying to shatter your own fate, this is the worst possible method you could choose.

Ugh... Uhh... Eugh!

Elliot Glover...

You are now an Infected. This is the fate you chose for yourself.

Aghh... Hahh...!

Well, this is just the perfect fate for me, then...

If you don't want to live a life of suffering, I have many ways to set you on your way.

No... I just... guh.

Perhaps this... will help me... break away from these shackles... Now I have nothing... to do with my past...

Sorry... for dragging you into this mess...

I'm surprised you can still apologize.

That's because I hate you too, Kal'tsit...

I thought you weren't going to treat me like a Columbian anymore.

No... That's not why...

Do you really think you can decide somebody else's fate for them...?

I've never once thought I could.

But that is exactly what you are doing, Kal'tsit... even though no one could say you made the wrong decision doing that...

*Sigh*... but it's all coming to an end now, isn't it?

Ugh, ha...

This doesn't change when I will be leaving, and you need to lay down and get some rest right now.

So is this what Oripathy is...?

It differs from person to person.

So does that mean... I don't need to use those Arts Units to conduct Arts Device experiments now?

You haven't received any in-depth Originium Arts education, and it will just kill you even sooner.

So you are saying I can do it.

Yeah... That's not so bad.

Keep going straight, and you will reach another way out of the black market.

Only Old Isin knows of this exit. No one has even been here.

An altar.

A grave.

My lady... There will be no obstacles in your way.

Elliot.

I'm going to Ursus.

I know that. Why are you telling me this now?

That's not important. What I'm asking you is... Are you going to stick with me?

You could go back to Columbia to continue your business. Before you make your decision, at the very least.

Or you could stay.

Old Isin is right. No one controls fate itself.

He will help you.

If that is my lady's wish, Old Isin will offer you his assistance, dear child.

You're saying all this now...?

I can't decide your future for you.

Even if you try to prove to me you're cutting off ties with your past, no matter how extreme your methods, you know from the beginning this is how you've always felt deep inside your heart.

I'm stopping war, I'm stopping the Sargonian civil unrest set off by the legacy of Sarkaz witchcraft, and I'm preventing a large-scale Originium infection—That's my goal, to put it simply.

So you're saying... You've already succeeded?

And what do you think of all those people who died on your quest?

I get it. I know you saved me. You were really there to save us, and I owe you my life—But they weren't just making preparations for war. That's not their crime—

—War has already started, Kal'tsit.

You've seen it, haven't you? You've been in so many battles on your journey. How many people have you killed? And how many of them were out to kill us?

The padishah, the lords ameer. The civil war has started already. If all this come to an end, does it really mean they will gladly set aside their differences and start throwing parties?

You don't understand how the Sargon nobles and the lords ameer work. Their corruption and pride will bog them down.

So you'll just... come up with some pointless summary and get up and leave?

I can't, Kal'tsit. Sorry... but I can't.

What do you want to do?

I will find every last one of them...

From Sargon to Columbia.

All of them.

Ah... Persistence.

Looks like the child has made up his mind, my lady.

This is the choice he made, Isin.

Old Isin knows. Old Isin respects both of your wishes. Old Isin is very old, after all. Old Isin wants to leave behind a kindling that will spark a new fire...

Will you help me?

To the best of my ability, my child.

Thanks...

Thanks.

Then, Kal'tsit—

It's time for us to say goodbye.

Newly awaken from his nightmares, the old man reminisces the glory of the old days as tears well up in his eyes.

The young researcher contemplates to himself. The anger welling up in him manages to suppress even the pain of his infection.

As for Kal'tsit, she merely stays quiet, saying not a word.

The nomad then takes her leave by herself.

My lady... Please do not forget Old Isin's reward.

In some twenty years, you will return with a gold coin to take away with you this helpless soul.

Mon3tr, it's time to go.