level_act29side_04_end

Quick, upstairs!

I heard from a student just now. The Sankta we're looking for is hiding there!

A pipe organ.

The entire spire is designed in the shape of an enormous pipe organ. It matches the distinguishing characteristics of the background sounds in the cello piece we heard earlier.

There's a very high chance that the wanted criminal Arturia is hiding here.

Will you keep going up?

Originium Arts that use sculptures to synchronize voices. The very same kind I heard at the site of the attack at Karl Schmidt Street.

So you started working with the 'Witch King's remains' after all, Arturia.

If I told you... I never cared who they were, and had no interest in Leithanien's political turmoil, would you believe me?

The resentment of individuals has never been a motive for your crimes, and I see power struggles and profit as even less likely candidates.

Oh, Federico. You really do know me better than anyone. Everyone else's minds are tainted with thoughts, while you... boring as you are, you and I are alike.

All these years, I've walked amidst chaos simply to find an even stronger soul.

This journey was no different. I simply accepted the invitation of a few Leithanian acquaintances. That's the only reason for my visit.

Even without my assurances, you should already know in your heart that, no matter what becomes of Leithanien tomorrow, it will have no immediate effect on Laterano.

Perhaps.

Then, can I ask of you the same thing the Lupo boy did? That you ignore what you see here?

You're upstairs.

Hm. You guessed right. I suppose I could give you a reward and let you see me.

How about this? Once my wish comes true, I will be waiting for you at the city gates on the day I leave Zwillingstürme.

When the time comes, if you still want me to go back to Laterano with you, I promise you I'll think about it.

An arrest is not a request. You do not have the right to 'think about it.'

My lovely baby brother, you really... don't know when to give up.

Target spotted!

It's the Sankta who was at the scene of Captain Bordin's murder! Everyone, surround Sonata Spire immediately!

The suspect didn't stop! He ran upstairs!

After him!

One floor after another. Leithanien's spires are always so, so tall.

There are more and more pursuers by the second. Shoes of various ages step on the stairs, each producing a different sound.

The pipes that form the spire's walls are vibrating even more powerfully now. The sound of the organ and the footsteps blend together to form a unique piece, with the squads meandering up the spiral staircase as the performers.

At the front, Federico maintains a steady pace through the entire process. Even his heartrate remains unchanged.

His eyes do not see any of the pursuing soldiers. All he can see is the target before him. A decade has passed, but as though only a day has gone by, nothing has changed.

The last floor.

By leaping past the few dozen steps before him, he will reach his target.

D-Don't move!

You Sankta... Don't tell me you can actually fly! Just how fast can you run?!

Good thing the students told me about another shortcut up here... I'm beat!

I don't care how amazing you are. If you take another step, I'm taking you down!

So what will you do? Will you declare war on the Leithanian Gendarmerie?

They, too, are enforcers of law, much like your countless coworkers at the Notarial Hall. However, unlike you, they hesitate before plunging themselves into battle. They feel fear.

When you charge ahead in pursuit of your target with no regard for anything else, do you lay eyes on these ordinary men and women for even a moment?

What's that sound? Is somebody talking to you?

Are they your buddy? You have friends here, don't you? Did you lure us into an ambush?!

She is not my friend.

But I am a fellow Sankta.

We both have the same halos above our heads and the same wings on our backs. We're even related by blood.

How will you persuade them that you came all this way not to aid me, but to arrest me?

The misunderstandings of others have never been a reason to waver.

My teammates will be here soon. You won't get away!

Surrender.

Approach those who misunderstand you and end this pointless pursuit. Clearly explain your position and motives to them.

And then, accept the fact that you have failed once again.

You're right in front of me. I have unearthed evidence of your Arts.

Drop all your weapons! Back away from the talking sculpture!

I ask that you please calm down.

I am not your enemy.

That's what all smooth-talking criminals say! I trust nothing but my eyes and my Arts Unit!

You'll pay for what you did to Captain Bordin, Sankta!

I was not responsible for Loris Bordin's death.

They're already under the thumb of their most irrational emotions.

Your music is affecting everyone in the area.

Is this really my doing...? Perhaps this is what they've always wanted, deep down?

I told you long ago. Much like our society, most people's minds are filled with chaos.

You ignore this fact. The only thing on your mind is to sidestep the chaos and find the most efficient shortcut to resolving the issue at hand.

Poor Federico. Have you still not noticed why you've never managed to catch me, even though you've pursued me all these years?

How is a man who's sealed off his own perceptions—unwilling to touch the chaos—supposed to reach chaos itself?

That doesn't concern me.

And you are not chaos itself.

You are a criminal, and your actions beget chaos. Which is why you must be stopped.

Like right now—

I have you now, Arturia.

Federico raises his gun.

The bullet pierces the speaking sculpture opposite him and continues in a straight path until it shatters the wall.

The black-haired Sankta is standing on a balcony not far away. With her back facing the setting sun and a bow in her hand, she smiles faintly.

Meanwhile, beam after beam of Arts light finally reach the executor.

What's going on? I just saw a bunch of Gendarmerie surrounding Sonata Spire!

Haven't you heard? It's the Witch King's remains! They're hiding among us in the school, researching Arts used to hurt people! It's so scary! How come none of us ever noticed?!

I... I don't believe it. How can you be sure they aren't lying? Their Majesties have long seen the school as a thorn in their side. It's probably an excuse to destroy Ludwigs-Universität—

How dare you doubt Their Majesties?! Oh, I get it. You're under the Witch King's remains' influence yourself, aren't you? No, you might even be the one who led them here in the first place. You're one of them!

How could you slander me like that? We've shared a room ever since we started school! I even took you to my family's villa by the lake every summer!

Hah! And how many of your family's fine possessions in that villa were rewards from the Witch King?

Like that set of Arts crystals in the basement, used to observe Catastrophes! They were refined from the ashes of the Infected, weren't they?

What did you just—Defame me all you like, but don't you dare drag my grandmother into this! She was the greatest Catastrophe scholar in Einwald, and she died for Leithanien on the northern Sturmland battlefield!

My eyes... I'm reporting you and your family to the Gendarmerie and the Empresses' Voice!

You wretched... Witch King's remnant...

What does that make you? An idiot who crawled your way here by clutching the hems of the Twin Empresses' dresses? If your family didn't so happen to have been on the right side, the lot of you would still be boatmen ferrying the nobles!

What do you even know? Did you ever learn to truly respect knowledge? You don't even know which instruments to use for different occasions.

Of course, I always knew you looked down on me! Come on! Fight me!

What are you doing protecting him, Maeyer? Your family used to serve to the nobles too. Aren't you itching to take this chance to beat up these haughty snobs?

The university forbids Originium Arts duels between students.

When a pack of wild beasts gains knowledge, that doesn't mean they've become civilized. All they've learned is how to use it to hide their fangs.

We should be ridding ourselves of this brutish rabble. They'll only tarnish the elegance and values of Ludwigs-Universität!

Shut up.

We worked for centuries to earn the right for commoners and nobles to sit in one classroom together. Neither Ludwigs-Universität or society as a whole should regress.

Out of the way, Maeyer, or you're my enemy too.

Hah, you aren't much better than him, Maeyer! The old fart who raised you has been stinking up this place longer than anyone else, hasn't he?

I heard he's lived for hundreds of years, and he keeps extending his life with the bones of the dead! Maybe he put you together from bones too?

I've also heard rumors. They say even the Twins were molded by Fremont with his witchcraft.

Nonsense! Fremont and the Witch King were the best of friends! I bet he's the leader of the Witch King's remains!

—Both of you should get some rest.

His longsword, wrapped in cloth, blocks the Arts flying toward him from both sides.

Lessing single-handedly stops both of them.

He then lifts his head find even more beams of Arts being flung toward one another.

Firelight, ice crystals, strange energy balls, frenzied flowerbeds, and upside-down fountains. Every spell ever taught in lectures is now interwoven with one another, all at once.

There is a thunderous rumble. A golem running around has knocked over a road sign.

'Ludwigs-Universität.' The shining school crest falls into a cloud of dust.

*pant*... *pant*... I'm really getting on in years. It's only been such a short distance, yet it feels as though I've climbed hundreds of steps.

I think I heard the sounds of a fight aboveground.

Are the Witch King's remains fighting with those from the university?

You're too weak. Leave the war to the others for now.

But suppose this war started because of me. I'd have no reason to hide.

You feel guilty. That's only natural.

Fate chose you over the others to live, and that is not necessarily a mercy. I know better than anyone how that feels.

Have you experienced a similar suffering?

I was gravely injured during the final battle, and spent the better part of a year in a confused state. It was Professor Fremont who spent the time and effort to cure me.

That day, when I finally woke up from my nightmare of being bound to those blood-red steps, the first thought that entered my mind was that... my classmates, friends, and even my lover were all gone.

In my despair, I climbed to the top of Sonata Spire, wishing to leap from it.

He found me up there, and I asked him: Was everything I did for Leithanien truly meaningful?

What happened next? Did you find the meaning you sought?

He gave me a number of books on the Güldenesgesatz. He told me that whenever I can't answer my own questions, history can.

So I started studying the Güldenesgesatz, how Leithanien came to be, and the direction it should go. I researched these topics for twenty years.

And... what answer did you come to?

The problems facing Leithanien have always existed, ever since the birth of the Güldenesgesatz. The cultural differences between tribes, the rift between nobles and commoners, etc. All these have existed for over a thousand years.

History has proven how difficult it is to change Leithanien, to give its citizens new lives, and to end the endless sacrifices.

You must possess both absolute power and unbreakable resolve.

Luckily, such power wasn't completely lost, and we're on our way to find it right now.

So this power you speak of is hidden somewhere on this old campus?

Ja.

And by obtaining it, we'll be able to resolve the predicament before us, eliminate the threat of the Witch King's remains, and... change my fate, all at the same time?

It was only my confidence in it that gave me the courage to go against my teacher.

Come, Franz. It's right up ahead.

Nein.

You again?

Don't follow him any further. You shouldn't go there.

Come back with me.

...So you can strap me to a table again and make me a vessel for summoning the Witch King's legacy? In your dreams.

Let the dregs of the past be buried by time, and vanish from Leithanien entirely.

They will. I'm doing what I can to ensure that happens.

But before that—

There's no 'before' anything. I've thrown away even a guarantee from the Kaiserinnen. Do you really think I'd listen to the promises of a remnant of the Witch King?

All I want is to obtain the Witch King's legacy. The people you're talking about—the ones who want to summon the Witch King—are my enemies too.

...Not this again. Is always denying your involvement really that fun for you people? Or are you fighting over who gets credit for what, all to crawl ever closer to that rotten throne?

I'm sick of all this. Can't you pick some other trophy... and stay away from me?!

Hm—The stairs beneath us are... vanishing?

This school is much older than you can imagine. Don't resist the power of history. Give up.

No—!

Lessing, not even you can fight a transforming staircase on your own. You'll only hurt yourself.

Ugh—Ah!

Are you this cruel to yourself, too?

Look, I don't know what Gerhard told you, but don't listen to him.

Rather than someone who claims to be grateful to the Witch King and wants to lock me away in a lab... I'd rather trust someone who once stood against the Witch King and saved my life.

The advent of the Genesis Horn is extremely unlikely to hurt you in any way. The old man and I triple-checked that.

The process may be painful, but not unbearable.

But you aren't me. What right do you have to make that decision for me?

I don't, but everyone has a responsibility that only they can bear.

Stop running away. If neither the Voice of Mundane nor the Urtica bloodline are things that you can change, then all you can do is accept them.

Accept them?

The ones who killed my parents and forced the Voice of Mundane into me gave me that same excuse.

The ones who almost turned me into a bomb to blow up a city—the ones who killed my brother—said nearly the same thing!

Why do you people always have these self-righteous justifications? Is that really enough for you to ignore all the screams you're creating?!

Ugh...

Verdammt... Still not letting go, even after that blow? Are you really so eager to be torn to pieces by the ancient Arts on these stairs?

I'd rather die than see you fall into their hands.

This has always been about more than just you... More than me, as well.

When Leithanien's future is at stake, any sacrifice is...

Franz, come.

We need to keep going.

This energy enveloping me... Did you save me?

I didn't do it to save you. I just can't stand people like you, obsessed with sacrificing themselves.

Franz...

...Ebenholz.

Don't walk right into a trap.

Come on, Franz.

What is this place...?

This is where the key I mentioned lies. The key capable of fundamentally changing Leithanien.

A thousand years ago, sages from the various tribes came together and signed an alliance, witnessed by an all-powerful, immortal caster.

This pact laid out the relationship between the tribes, established the Kurfürsten system, and set the foundation for Leithanian morality and appreciation of the arts.

You mean... the Güldenesgesatz.

Ja.

In the centuries that followed, the Güldenesgesatz ensured Leithanien's stability.

That is, until a century ago, when the Siracusans became the first to turn their backs on the Güldenesgesatz and seek independence from Leithanien.

It was... a bloody conflict, lasting several years. With one part of the choir gone, the Movement became destabilized, and many regions fell into chaos. Leithanien was on the brink of collapse.

In those dire circumstances, a man stepped forward.

He realized that the Güldenesgesatz had to be amended. Only by removing Siracusa from the score entirely could the reborn movement unite the nine remaining regions.

...The Witch King.

Correct, my child.

What you see before you is the most mysterious chamber of Ludwigs-Universität, where House Urtica's Arts—circulated for centuries—are gathered. And where Herkunftshorn rewrote the Güldenesgesatz.

I cannot agree to your methods.

Even if I were willing to believe you that the Genesis Horn truly exists, it is incapable of descending upon Zwillingstürme as it is now.

Hmph, this is exactly why I didn't bother notifying you people. The Gesatzswächter have heads even harder than their helmets.

Your so-called safe and controllable plan to summon the Genesis Horn has already failed.

The Witch King's remnants are hiding within the campus, and with all the relics of the Witch King stored here, they will bring forth a disaster of unprecedented scale.

And for now, there is only one efficient means of stopping them.

I refuse.

We'll evacuate all the students and university staff.

Ludwigs-Universität contains much more of value than just its students and instructors!

I've had tenure here for centuries! Can you even imagine how many precious Arts devices and enchantments there are here?

I understand, but I ask that you please prioritize Leithanien's safet—

Absolutely not. You say you understand, but that's far beyond your meager capabilities.

The old man's voice calms down.

His habitual tongue-lashing comes to a halt. As he stares at the man in front of him, the shadow of his skinny body on the wall suddenly grows very tall, like a spire covered in vines.

These spires are not for you to meddle with.

If you dare suggest destroying them again, I'll throw all of you out at once.

...Something isn't right.

The sunset outside the window... disappeared?

The sun's not the only thing that's gone.

Ugh....

How very brave of you.

However, don't even try to touch my shadow again, unless you wish to be dissolved by it.

Herr Fremont's shadow...

It's fractured into... innumerable silk strings...

Droste. Lower your Arts.

Do not probe those shadows. His true form is hidden inside. You're not yet strong enough to stare directly into his soul.

Oh? So you've figured out who I am?

Then you must also know that no one who's been thrown outside by me has ever managed to climb back alive.

If you're brave enough, feel free to see for yourself.

There is nothing out there whatsoever. I assure you that were you to leap outside, you wouldn't even have time to scream. Your mouths, vocal cords, and limbs would all perish in the darkness.

I've never even heard of Arts like these.

...'Exile.'

I've heard it spoken of in legends, but was never sure how much truth there was to it. Until today.

You've been hiding in Leithanien for so long now. Why choose now to reveal your identity?

Herr Lich?

A Lich?

You mean... Herr Fremont is a Sarkaz?

Hoh, a Sarkaz.

Aside from the immortal bastards of the Royal Court, very few these days have been able to deduce my identity.

You say I've been 'hiding'... That's a good way to put it, little lamb. When you put it like that, I've stayed in this country for far too long, haven't I?

I never meant to hide my true identity. It's only that I've grown used to being cooped up this spire, with my head buried in the literature here.

It's you people who forgot who I was.

And all of you keep bothering me with Leithanien's messes. Sometimes it's the wolves bickering with the lambs. Other times, it's two deer locking antlers. Haven't you wasted enough of my time?

Now scram, and tell Grimmacht that I don't care anymore. Once I've recovered what I loaned from the Genesis Horn, the Liches will be gone from Leithanien for good.

And if it's not too much to ask, get the hell out of here and never set foot in my holy temple again!

The Genesis Horn cannot be allowed to descend.

Did you not understand a word of what I just said?

I am no match for you.

But that doesn't mean Leithanien's Gesatzswächter will give up so easily.

And what about you, my lovely doe? Do you also seek death?

Let her leave.

Herr Fremont. Surely there is still room to negotiate?

You can stop trying.

Hm? It's you.

Hello, Droste... Nein. I should call you Frau Hochberg.

Allow me to reintroduce myself.

My name is Michael, the personal envoy of Her Majesty Grimmacht.

So you're another Empresses' Voice?

I am not.

An Empresses' Voice serves both Kaiserinnen at once.

While I belong only to Grimmacht.

...Can I take that to mean that we're enemies?

The last time we met, I already told you that we might walk different paths.

What are you dawdling around for, wolf cub? Hurry up and throw them out of here!

...Right away.

Herr Reiner, Frau Hochberg. These are Grimmacht's orders.

I am to assist Herr Fremont and ensure that the Genesis Horn makes its advent on Zwillingstürme.

But why?

First, because this was Grimmacht's promise to Herr Fremont.

As a show of gratitude to the Liches' contribution to Leithanien over the past millennium, and to foster a continued, long-lasting friendship, we will help Herr Fremont retrieve what once belonged to him.

Second, if there's anyone who has the right to use the Genesis Horn, it can only be my liege.

Your liege.

Singular.

...Don't let him get to you, Droste.

It doesn't matter if it was Grimmacht or Ewigegnade who wished for this. There's no reason for you to get involved.

House Hochberg has already sacrificed too much for the conflict between the Witch King and the Twin Empresses, and for the Güldenesgesatz.

I will see you out of here safely... even if I must put my life on the line.

What's going on?

Why is the spire... shaking?

It's not the spire that's shaking. It's the ground beneath us.

The shadow is fracturing. Something is trying to make its way through.

Is there something underneath the campus's plate?

House Urtica's secret chamber... Those stupid sheep barged into my underground space!

Fremont, you fool! You've been in Leithanien for far too long. You've contracted the stupidity of these bighorn sheep!

Thank goodness... The legends were true. The old man was telling the truth.

All these enchantments and Arts devices... Every last one perfectly preserved.

This is living history! Not even the greatest history books were able to go into such fine detail about the situation!

Wait, this is...

A silhouette emerges from the darkness.

Followed by another, and another.

Their robes, hoods, and masks have not changed at all in the past twenty years.

A silhouette he could not be more familiar with emerges from the nightmare that's plagued him for his entire life, and steps right in front of him.

Welcome back to your territory—

—Graf Urtica.

Professor Hoffmann!

What is it, Franz?

Look what I just found... This is an Arts scroll that's been missing for ages!

And this! It can't possibly be the brass instrument used by Herkunftshorn himself, can it? There are treasures here far more valuable than I ever imagined!

My... My head... It hurts, verdammt!

Why now, of all times? When it's the most dangerous...? No, I can't fall here.

Professor... Hoffmann... Please go...

I... I'll... protect you...

Franz? What in blazes are you talking about?

Lessing was right. I can't keep running away.

All this time, there's always been someone protecting me.

All the people by my side... first it was that lady, then the respectable Gendarmerie, then Herr Czerny, and... him. All of them, more willing to sacrifice themselves than I.

But this time, I'll do it.

I'll kill myself here. I still have the Voice of Mundane they love so much... That should be more than enough to blow this chamber of evil to smithereens.

Grab what you want... while you still can... Go... Hurry...

It's time you got some rest, you silly child.

What... did you say?

My life's work is about to be realized, but how am I supposed to accomplish all this without you?

This is the second time.

Someone holds a brass instrument up high and violently strikes his head.

'Graf Urtica.'

Many years ago, he woke up to find himself shackled to that chair. In the ten years since, he was granted this name.

He never wanted the title of Graf, and he despised the name Urtica more than anything. Even the name Franz, an old-fashioned name used by countless noble children, is something he has always loathed.

In that spire standing tall in the center of the Urtica Grafschaft, he tried to escape that chair again and again. After all, it was never him that the nobles reporting on the affairs of the Grafschaft truly cared about.

They knew each other well, which is why the guards only ever came early in the day, to drag him from the curtains to the chair.

After a long time, he would finally be allowed to roam the spire aimlessly. Not even the guards noticed him then, until the next morning arrived.

The days went by in that vicious cycle.

If he hadn't tried to run even farther afield, hadn't thought about the other person suffering a similar fate, hadn't tried to resist, and hadn't been shown any hope whatsoever...

Then perhaps he would have been bound to that chair his entire life.

But then, today, he finds himself caught once again. And behind him is yet another familiar chair.

Its shadow is simple, elegant, and entwined with thorns. At a single glance, it feels as if his eyes, brain, and heart have been pierced with intense pain.

Even the cheers around him are similar.

It's just that, this time, they call him—

'Witch King.'