level_act29side_05_beg

A standoff.

It was meant to be a sudden assault. The casters of Kreis Heldenschwert would disguise themselves as musicians and infiltrated the Witch King's Spire, while the armies from Erdenherre and Sturmland would stay hidden outside through their enchantments.

No one dared underestimate the Witch King's power, but the battle was nonetheless harder than anyone could have imagined.

The army outside the Spire was discovered by the Einwald Imperial Guard. The first wave of casters all died at its base, while the second wave was swallowed by the endless staircase.

The only ones who made it to the throne were the Twins. Grimmacht, and her sister, Ewigegnade.

Black and red had always been the Urtica colors, but from the entrance to its deepest innards, the Spire was almost completely void of black tiles.

House Urtica's secret chamber lies underground, and it's very close to Sonata Spire, so we can make our way down through it. Herr Fremont has already left, and we must catch up.

Nein.

Is something the matter?

Go no further.

The Witch King's Imperial Guard is here. You will die.

The Imperial Guard? What do you mean?

The folks from Heldenschwert never expected you people to win. They simply wanted the Sturmland armies to keep the Imperial Guard at bay while the Twins climbed the spire.

In their plans, all of you were meant to die. The Witch King, the Twins, everyone.

Tell your father and Ernst that the Hochbergs should not be buried here, not in this spire.

Herr Reiner, my father is dead.

I'm the reason that you're the only survivor.

I'm the one... who took away your freedom...

Please, look at me. I'm Viviana.

Did you perhaps... mistake me for my father?

Leave now. Leave Ludwigs-Universität.

Grimmacht's envoy has passed on the Kaiserin's order. As an Empresses' Voice, you have more than enough grounds to terminate your mission.

And to prevent the Voices from going out of sync, Ewigegnade won't punish you for it either.

Do you hear the commotion around us?

It sounds familiar.

This is practically a battlefield. My duties prevent me from escorting you out, but I can at least use my melody to forge a path through the chaos for you.

...Nein.

I will never forget how quiet and peaceful it was when we entered the campus. The young students' faces still had hope for what was to come.

I can't let them become sacrifices to this conflict.

While I'm nowhere near as strong as you or Herr Fremont, I'd like to help as many of those weaker than me as I can.

Herkunftshorn's secret lies ahead.

Ewigegnade said that when Das Kaiserinnensfest comes to an end, you'll have another chance to choose.

But once you've gazed upon the country's darkest, most hidden secret, all your other choices will immediately evaporate.

I expected as much.

But while I long for freedom, I can't very well turn my back on people suffering right in front of me.

Ironic, isn't it?

...You're just like your father.

Ja, I know.

I've... always known the kind of man he was.

What's going on? Why are there so many people underground?

They charged inside! It's not just Sonata Spire, either; The Scholars' Spire next door, too! There are students everywhere!

Stop them all! Don't let them block the stairs, or we can't chase—

Who did that?

No idea, there's too much going on! I can't make anything out!

W-Witch King's remnants!

Listen.

Listen to the extreme chaos, as well as to the only melody that can be found within it.

That is Herkunftshorn's sigh.

The final sound our king left upon this land.

The supreme spire, whose dark shadow on the ground causes all to shudder.

Those who do not wish to be engulfed in darkness paddle their arms and climb the staircases leading up.

The pitch black will hangs over the throne in silence, awaiting inquiries from other souls.

Those who hide behind the curtains regret the demise of love.

Those who lead the charge in others' stead ponder the meaning of heroism.

Those who wade through the sea of their fallen comrades' blood lament the price of their sacrifice.

All of them now gather at the far ends of this spiral staircase, to witness the birth of this melody.

Its name—

—<i>Der Tod des Hexenkönigs</i>.

It's the Witch King's army! They're charging toward me!

Casters pouring in through Catastrophes! Originium piercing entire cities!

Help, I don't want to die... But... I might as well. Please, burn me to ashes! I don't want to be crumpled into a living ball of flesh!

Urk... Nngh!

How could you set yourself ablaze, you idiot!

Nein, everyone here has gone mad!

This sound... Th-The pipe organ! Are the Witch King's remnants performing? All of us are under the influence of their... illusions...

Who's there on the podium?

All this blood, all these... corpses? But who is it lying in the blood...?

Grimmacht... Ewigegnade!

Hahaha, it's you! The wicked Twins!

The rumors were true, weren't they? Your souls were cooked up by Sarkaz Arts, and your blood molded from the ambitions of traitors!

You killed Leithanien's true king, and took over her throne—

You two were born to destroy this country!

You're wrong!

Grimmacht may be cruel, but she's not evil!

And who are you? Another Empresses' Voice? A puppet carrying out the Twins' will?

Nein, she wouldn't let me become one.

But I'm alive because of Grimmacht. I want to help her. I want to—

Anyone who accepts a monster's reward becomes a monster themselves. Look at all this! Look at how far Leithanien has fallen because of you people!

This spire... This school...

Did you keep Ludwigs-Universität around only to impersonate us true Leithanians? To pretend you still had the decency to respect tradition?

I've had enough. I'm sick of the Empresses' Voice showing up at our lectures. I'm sick of the salons incapable of anything other but empty praise!

Our history, our knowledge, and our arts are all long dead. Murdered!

So we may as well die together.

I... I'll kill all of you...!

Ugh—!

What are these Arts? Why can't I block them?

No... Is that a fist? I...

Michael's eyes suddenly widen.

More and more people rush toward Sonata Spire by the minute, joining the fray as the music continues. Many of them set down their wands, choosing instead of use their fists, legs, and teeth.

Is this still the Leithanien he knows?

All the rhetorical tricks and combat tactics he learned... even Originium Arts have lost their effectiveness.

Aside from cowering under his shield, there is nothing he can do. Right now, he is no different from the young boy he was when he had just left his hometown and arrived in Zwillingstürme.

Please, I beg you... Ewigegnade, I'll do anything... Please spare me...

No... Don't hurt me...

Grimmacht... Grimmacht...

Please stand.

Who...?

Raise your shield, and face it to your left.

...Okay.

Help me hold this person up.

A Gendarme? Who is he?

I do not know his name, but he is one of Loris Bordin's subordinates.

He was attempting to blow my head up with Arts.

And you still saved him?

Ugh—!

The third sculpture, shattered.

He was merely carrying out his duties. I see no reason to harm him.

These men may be under the influence of Arts, losing their reason to their most intense emotions buried deep within their hearts.

Fighting them would be inefficient. I suggest instead quickly rendering them unconscious, as I have been doing.

...So this entire time, you've been knocking people out while making your way through the crowd?

I have also attempted to place them in a corner to ensure that they won't be stepped on or struck in the melee.

Danke, then, for not clubbing me the moment you saw me then.

I do not require thanks.

Micha Wolf, you may be young, but mentally you are much stronger than most adults.

I believe that as long as someone is available to provide you a hint, you will never lose yourself to these illusions.

That is not necessarily the case for everyone else.

Although I have yet to receive confirmation, if it was Arturia's music that caused this chaos, then the abnormal behavior will continue until we end her performance.

I'll leave this place to you, Micha Wolf.

Call me Michael.

I must continue ascending, Michael.

This sound is very familiar.

The staircase outside must be as chaotic as it was twenty-three years ago?

Panic, anxiety, fear, rage... All these emotions, caused by that non-existent spire.

The Genesis Spire standing at the heart of Leithanien.

When its sound can once again be heard far and wide, what sort of music will it finally have in store for us?

Herkunftshorn, our one and only king!

Your magnificence props up the Spire, and your radiance shrouds the land!

Your soul shines eternal, and your Arts will never fade!

All of Leithanien's wisdom and elegance gather before you!

Your luminance and greatness are the pillars of her success!

Lift your heads, all ye who prostrate on the land before him—

Gaze upon our king's accomplishments! His glory!

At last... The day has finally arrived.

For two decades, I've dreamt of walking up those long stairs and standing before this very throne.

Fortunately, fate provided me the enchantments you left on the Güldenesgesatz.

Today, very soon, your final melody will be performed.

Herkunftshorn, Leithanien's most supreme ruler.

Allow me to once again seek an audience.

Allow me to... seek your forgiveness.

Good boy, Franz.

I apologize. I had no choice but to knock you out. Does your head still hurt?

I would have thought you'd have plenty of questions for me.

...Hah.

Ja, that's the look. You're in pain, but unwilling to give in. Even lying in sludge, you'd still look upon your betters with scorn.

My betters? All I see is a flock of madmen putting on a show.

Your ramblings are even less worth listening to than the noise in my head.

You believe us insane, and that we've mistaken you for the Witch King. And so we repent and kneel before you.

What a shame. Even I had hoped that you could truly become him.

If only... If only our original experiment had succeeded. If only we'd found the way to perform the Voice of Mundane right from the start.

Then, neither you nor the other children would have suffered so.

...It was you?

And to think I was going to... protect you...

Ha... hahahaha!

You're coughing up blood.

*spit*

I almost wish my blood really were imbued with evil power. Then I could've at least burnt away that deceitful mask you're wearing.

But I haven't told you a single lie.

When we first met, you'd yet to learn to walk. All you could do was sit on your mother's lap.

Was she also...?

A remnant of the Witch King? Is that what you wanted to ask?

Are you worried that your birth itself was... some sort of evil ritual?

Nein, quite the opposite. But you wish it were, don't you? You want your entire life to have been a conspiracy, through-and-through. That way, you'd feel comfortable despising it.

But that doesn't make sense, my dear Franz.

Your mother was a respectable woman. She was a descendant of the Urticas, part of the Witch King's bloodline. So to others, she was almost by definition one of his remnants.

Before she died, she entrusted you to a friend, an old servant of the Witch King. And to protect you, he too was killed by the Empresses' Voice.

Would you scorn <i>them</i> as well? Even though they truly loved you?

...So after taking away my love, now you tell me I don't deserve to hate either?

You want me to be nothing more than an empty husk. All the better to squeeze that old fart into me.

Hah... Just try.

The Witch King's whispers, his robes, his crown... What else is there?

Don't worry, my child.

When Herkunftshorn's power arrives, he will end your cruel fate and heal you of your scars and pain.

I thought I told you to let him go.

So you chased us after all.

It must have been hard to make it past all the enchantments outside, no?

This is my responsibility, and I don't give up.

I'm surprised you were able to cleave through my defensive enchantments.

I sharpen my sword with my Arts every day. I make sure that it's as solid as my will.

Your sword... It has a special enchantment that specifically targets traditional Leithanian Arts. Did the Professor teach you that? Has he always been prepared to make an enemy of Leithanien?

The old man's never been one to pick his enemies. And neither do I. Our enemies crawl out the shadows on their own.

Just like you, Gerhard.

I never expected to point my sword at someone who was once my ally.

We don't <i>have</i> to be enemies, Lessing.

The Maeyers have served the Urticas for generations.

As long as you're willing to stand on our side and help Franz, there will always be a place for you by the throne.

The throne?

All I see is a musty old chair.

My grandfather, my parents... All of them have been held hostage by that chair for far too long.

Why should I repeat the same mistake and bind myself to it again?

Hm, well said.

Those unwilling to be bound by the past will always try to seek out a different fate.

Like you, and like me.

The Concertmaster has started the performance.

It's almost time.

No one can stop the advent of Herkunftshorn anymore.

But Herkunftshorn isn't the one sitting on that throne.

His name is Ebenholz.

And it's my duty to bring him back with me.

As long as I live, nothing will stop me from reaching that battered chair.

It doesn't matter how many men you have—

Come at me.

Gesatzswächter...!

The melody has begun. Not even you can stop its flow!

Perhaps not.

Your sword is... reverberating?

It's useless, Gesatzswächter. You may be able to chain down a single man's mind, but a hundred? A thousand? Your melody will be drowned in chaos.

Much like how the Gesatzswächter were unable to stop the melee at the foot of the Witch King's Spire twenty-three years ago...

If so, I will kill chaos itself.

His longsword pierces not his enemy's chest, but instead the ground beneath them.

A golden radiance surges from the blade, drowning out even the Gesatzswächter's armor, then dashes toward the sky to form a webbing the color of the setting sun, enveloping Sonata Spire within it.

All sounds within reach of his Arts are drowned out, leaving nothing but the solemn melody reverberating in the air.

A golden curtain?

Those Arts should take at least ten Gesatzswächter to cast! How did you manage it all on your own?!

I... ugh!

The harmony of the Güldenesgesatz is inviolable.

Today, no one outside Ludwigs-Universität will hear a single discordant note.

I swear by my flesh, blood, and soul—

Not a single remnant of the Witch King will leave this spire alive. You and your Arts must be extinguished here.

The melody's changed again.

Gerhard.

Took you long enough, Professor.

I'm sure killing us Leithanian casters would be a simple matter for you.

But as always, you're unwilling to dirty your own hands.

How many times do I have to tell you? Us Liches are just the keepers of the palace of knowledge.

We bring our wisdom to the different races to advance the development of Arts, but we never interfere with a country's own affairs. That was the Court of the Lich King's contract with your ancestors, and it is the Liches' creed.

I understand all too well. A group of Sarkaz living in Leithanien's most ancient spire, the seat of her power—No Leithanian would willingly accept that truth.

I'm quite jealous of you, you know. Even against Herkunftshorn, all you did was provide the enchantment that molded those twins.

You didn't need to bear the responsibility of changing history, nor did you stain your hands with... the blood of your closest friend.

I don't get what you're thinking at all. Years ago, <i>you're</i> the one tried to convince me to stop Herkunftshorn, but now you're mingling with these third-rate wannabes!

Ja, because I changed. And you're the one who changed me.

You had me research the Güldenesgesatz and think on Leithanien's history. And I did exactly as you asked.

But the deeper I got into my research, the more I... despaired.

Herkunftshorn's accomplishments were simply too dazzling.

He resolved the Siracusan problem and saved Leithanien when it was on the verge of breaking apart. He crushed Corsica I and prevented us from becoming a Gaulish vassal state.

Only through his presence have we thwarted every existential threat to the country, again and again.

We had such a great man on the throne, and... we killed him.

When did I ever tell you to read up on how great Herkunftshorn was?

Besides, what does his 'greatness' have to do with him killing so many Sarkaz and Leithanians alike, turning the country into a smoking hot mess, and plugging his ears to anyone else's opinions?

I had you study the Güldenesgesatz because I wanted you to have a more open-minded outlook. Not to pour over every trivial growing pain every nation goes through. Hardships happen, then everyone goes back to their lives.

But somehow you ended up caught up in <i>this</i> nonsense. How can you even consider this when so many have died?

...Because I can't see them, Professor.

I'm not like you, a Sarkaz with control over even death itself. When we die, that's it. We become a speck of dust on this land forever. The dead can never feel my hatred.

All those years ago, I was the one who persuaded them to fight. I sent them to their deaths in the Witch King's spire. If that battle had never happened, he wouldn't have died, and neither would they.

You idiot. And that's why you want to resurrect him?

You can't possibly think that, when you do see him, he's going to praise you for this? Or even comfort you? He wasn't some kindly old grandfather who sang nursery rhymes to dumb kids!

He wouldn't even spare you a glance. He'd treat you as a speck of dust dirtying his floor.

Ha... Haha... You still don't understand a thing.

A selfish and cowardly man like me...

Everything I do... I do to seek my own forgiveness.

That thing you're holding... The missing Güldenesgesatz?!

More precisely, it's the lingering trace of Herkunftshorn's power he left in the Güldenesgesatz.

You want to use his Arts by force? Don't be stupid, Gerhard! You can't do it!

I've come too far not to.

I don't want... to regret this a second time.

A flame rises, so black and so red that it seems drenched in blood.

The walls of the chamber tremble violently. Originium crystals sprout and grow from every crevice between the brick and tile, even piercing the ground's foundation.

Ugh... Argh...

Ebenholz!

Hurry, Gerhard's going to destroy this whole school!

Witch... King...

The Voice of Mundane... It's boiling in my head. It... It'll be free soon...

That's not the Voice of Mundane reacting.

It's... not?

I don't know who first got it wrong. Or maybe Gerhard has given up on summoning him through you entirely.

But Herkunftshorn's power isn't originating from your mind. You aren't the key melody here!

Arturia.

You're a little later than expected.

Is it because you were helping the Gendarmerie? You've grown soft. What happened to the executor who would stop at nothing to fulfill his mission?

The fourth sculpture.

You aren't playing.

You must be shocked, aren't you?

Like I've told you, you don't need to rush to find me. Until my real audience arrives, I'm just a listener myself.

You aren't the source of the illusions the men below are experiencing.

I'm a little hurt. We've been competing against each other for how long now? But you still confuse the 'truth' my music draws out with the 'illusions' a conman would use.

Besides, haven't you noticed? The people trapped in this spire have always hated each other. They've never stopped fighting.

Isn't laying the blame for this chaos entirely on mind-affecting Arts also a form of running away?

Leithanien's affairs are not within the purview of the Notarial Hall. My primary targets are limited to you and your accomplices.

Who is manipulating the sculptures to protect you?

An avid listener of mine.

You arrived a bit too late. Just a little earlier and you could also have had a front row seat to <i>Der Tod des Hexenkönigs</i>.

The fifth.

Arturia, I'm well acquainted with every crime you have committed. Your Arts have affected a variety of regions and social classes, but you have never actively participated in political conflict.

Do you remember my mother's funeral?

How I freed the emotions everyone had kept hidden in their hearts. It was the first time I realized how easily others fell into my melodies.

But that brought me no joy. Quite the opposite. I was disappointed.

Powerful emotions should give rise to more than just chaos. Emotions are meant to bolster our souls, to allow us to overcome any obstacle... even our predestined extinction.

Which is why I came here in my search.

The sixth.

If you're looking to perform for the Witch King, then you will never succeed. He perished long ago. Your melody has no effect on the dead.

It would seem you're a little mistaken about this performance.

The shadow over the throne was dispersed, and the twin heroes walked out of the spire to the adoration of the masses... While those who stayed put are still waist deep in the emotions they felt when they witnessed the mountain crumble before them.

<i>Der Tod des Hexenkönigs</i> isn't about the Witch King. He was never the main character of this piece.

What happened... Why are we here? Ugh, my hand hurts! Why am I bleeding?

The stairs are shaking! Is the spire coming down? What's with the black fire burning from the ground... Help! Help!

These are Herkunftshorn's enchantments. You've all come to your senses... We need to get out of the spire, now!

Ngh... guh...

You're awake too?

Candlelight... Candle... Can...

Candlelight?

Here, this way.

But the flames... The whole Sonata Spire is enveloped by these black flames!

I'll open up a path.

With your candle's flame?

Pay attention to the shadow it casts on the wall.

The shadow's... tearing the black flames apart?

Ja... This is the true form of my Arts.

You must be disappointed. They're not nearly as beautiful as you thought, right?

No, meine Dame... This is stunning.

You don't often see Arts that can rival Herkunftshorn's undying black flames.

I can't defeat them.

But as long as something truly exists, it casts a shadow. The most I can manage is make use of this principle to ever-so-briefly create a chance to survive.

Is something the matter?

I was just thinking that... I was your enemy until a moment ago, yet you aren't blaming me.

Why should I?

You said you're not an Empresses' Voice. And I have yet to formally enter the Kaiserin's Spire myself.

Here, you can just be you, and I can just be Viviana. We aren't carrying out the Kaiserin's orders. We're simply helping out the poor souls struggling in this music.

So please take the students and make your way out as fast as you can, while they've recovered their mobility. I can still hold on a little longer.

I can see golden light outside. The Gesatzswächter's curtain has already enveloped this place. He could destroy the spire at any moment.

I trust that Herr Reiner will make the appropriate decision.

What about you, then?

My candleflame will extinguish sooner or later. Hopefully, it chooses the most meaningful moment to.

Frau Hochberg... Viviana!

Go, Michael.

Please take care of yourself and these young students. Each of you has a future that... someone like me could never dream of.

This is the place.

Surround the spire.

Casters from the Kaiserinnen's Spires?

That's right, Brandt.

Haven't I already said that—

These are the Kaiserin's orders.

We are to assist you in resolving the problem here.

Good. Use your Arts. Join me as an accompaniment.

I will tighten the curtain.

No, Herr Reiner!

Step aside, envoy of Grimmacht.

Will you continue to stand in our way? Your earlier behavior alone is reason enough to suspect you of colluding with the Witch King's remnants.

There are still innocents inside.

I see the students have all been evacuated, and Herr Fremont wouldn't die so easily.

But the Sankta, and Viviana...

Viviana is still inside?

She's trapped by the black flames, and stayed behind to save me and the students.

Brandt!

This is our best chance to eliminate the threat.

Once the ensemble is complete, your strength will completely annihilate the spire! Viviana will perish too!

It was her decision to enter the battlefield.

Werner gave his life for Leithanien. We can't let his one and only daughter follow in his footsteps!

You promised Werner that you'd save her. We both did. Have you forgotten your oath?

Have you forgotten your oath, Reiner?

The blade and Arts of a Gesatzswächter belong only to the Güldenesgesatz and to Leithanien.

It doesn't matter how Herkunftshorn treats his subjects. He is Leithanien's rightful ruler, as recognized by the Güldenesgesatz.

If you choose to fight alongside House Hochberg, you will be abandoning your duties as a Gesatzswächter.

One more step, and you will be making an enemy out of all of us.

Brandt... Why didn't you come save us?

We grew up together. We were like brothers.

I know you loathe the Witch King too. You despise his tyranny over Sturmland's citizens, and you hate how he turned our homeland into a battlefield and a testing ground!

The Battle of the Four Emperors was years ago, and the skies above Sturmland are still filled with Catastrophe clouds formed by Originium shards. Many of our children are doomed to be born with those accursed stones.

Why can't we resist? Why can't we make him pay the price?

Is it because the Güldenesgesatz dictates that he's the ruler, and that we are his attendants?

Nein! It isn't right for us to be born that way.

If your power is merely dependent on some inviolable will, does that make your will—the Gesatzswächter's will—fundamentally a lie?

It's that lie that's forcing you run away from your decision.

As well as from your remorse toward the dead Hochbergs.

Brandt Reiner—

Make your decision now.

...Viviana.

His body wobbles once, almost unnoticeably.

Then, small cracks start appearing in the golden curtain.

Resonance.

At last... I got you.

The seventh.

All the sculptures have been destroyed. You no longer have a means to resist.

Just a moment longer, my dear Federico.

Do you hear that?

Brandt Reiner. His soul is finally opening up to my melody.

His strong will has finally broken free of his restraints, and the surge of emotions will lead him to make the decision he will regret the least.

This is what I've been waiting for... The truest climax of this piece.

A melody, so impassioned that it approaches piercing, rings out from the strings of Arturia's cello.

As though motivated by the music, black Originium flames rise from the deepest depths of the earth and tear asunder the surface mere inches away.

The Witch King's musicians standing guard at the foot of the spire all walk single file into the black flames, chanting even as they are incinerated into ash.

The very Spire that holds up the skies, the inevitable, indispensable, and eternal pillar—

Now rise!

Something bores out of the earth's flesh.

It is a high spire.

It bears a red tint to its blackness, a spiral shape, and a strange sharpness.

The long lost Witch King's Spire stands atop the land once more.