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These filthy rebels! They've been at this since Sudean!

Bring out that massive metal thing of yours!

You mean the self-propelled cannon? Sarkaz, there's still lots of our men up ahead!

Send them a signal.

Ever heard of danger close? You know how wide its attack range is? They won't get away in time!

That's their problem. <i>Our</i> warriors know how to survive on the battlefield.

Over there—A movable mechanical Originium cannon!

What... What the hell is this? That's no normal artillery shell!

Did Kazdel have some kind of advanced research institute I never heard of?

And in such a short time too... How did Manfred manage this?

Have you found the control area with your drones yet?;Focus.

Control area... Control area... Crap, Doctor. These artillery shells've got Arts that jam my drones.

Like I said, Londinium's system is easy to crack, but Sarkaz witchcraft is tough!

Doctor, we'll take it from here.

Whoa, Feist!

Everything's set the way you wanted it.

The engineering team will make sure your drones will fly free.

You've got an idea?

Miss Closure, these Originium cannons were assembled in our factory.

So... You aren't planning on taking them apart right here and now, are you?

Haha, if we were Vampires, we definitely could've given it a shot.

Too bad, most of us are just normal craftsmen.

But we know what we've made with our own hands.

We know how to target their weak points to create an opening for our friends who can actually put up a fight.

After all, this is how us engineers can put ourselves to use on the battlefield. Isn't that right?

The zipline... You're gonna climb onto that?

Your drones will function as normal if we get the cannon under control, right?

In theory. That's too risky, though...

We're working together here.

I need you and the Doctor to help us lock onto the safest landing point.

As the cannons echo in the air, Feist focuses on the battlefield before him.

He sees not the fierce Sarkaz, but the machinery by the conveyor belts he's the most familiar with. The thunderous sound of the enormous machine's movement is no different from the rhythms he knows so well.

He will take back the city that belongs to them, his own way.

Phew... I've always wanted to see a battle from up above. Isn't this the perfect chance?

The giant machine ambles down the street.

Compared to its colossal form, the men on the battlefield, be they Victorian or Sarkaz, are almost insignificant.

Its footsteps cannot be halted. Its gaze can easily melt the blocks.

It is practically the ruler of this steel jungle.

Yet it suddenly lets out a wail.

From a blind spot in its vision, a dozen grappling hooks latch onto the weakest point of its neck.

Immediately thereafter, several dozen figures climb onto its back via the zipline.

Doctor, we've got it under control!

Snipers, eliminate nearby hostiles!

Understood!

Casters, strike!

On it!

Look at you, Banshee. You won't allow even a single drop of blood near you.

Every drop you control contains your witchcraft.

Oh ho ho. The curse of the Banshee.

Since when have the Banshees been as boring and uninteresting as you?

I still remember how they flew through the dark night, blowing their bone-whistles—

They mourned those lost to the wastelands with their sharp, sorrowful cries. At the same time, they mercilessly dug their pitch-black fingers into the skulls of those pitiful souls.

Banshee, that is what a Banshee is supposed to be.

They have always been the hunters that the Vampires admired the most. On the battlefield, we fought alongside one another with fear as our weapon, taking the lives of our feeble enemies.

But the Banshees of today have lost their way. Your kind has locked your true selves behind that attire not unlike what the Leithanian Casters wear. Decrepit and pretentious.

I'm afraid you are the one who's lost your way, Vampire.

Time does more than relentlessly erode the lands. It shapes life as well.

Why not take a look at yourself? Your form has long since changed, you are no longer as you were.

Hmph... What significance is the form my flesh takes?

Your flesh, like my robe, is the true form in which we walk the world.

The roots of Royal Court may have rotted away long ago, but Royal Court, as it stands today with its canopy raised up high, remains unwilling to fall to the ground.

How pathetic... That which is dead continues to draw nutrients from the barren soil, denying itself the chance to receive new life.

So this is your true goal?

The smile disappears from the Vampire's face. Next to him, the boiling blood settles into stasis for a brief moment.

A faint tremor can be felt beneath the ground, before the floor above it starts to shake as well.

Blood. Blood marches forward.

Operators, hold!

The battlefield below us...

He suddenly realizes he has stayed here for too long. Lettou is far from the only weak point in the command tower.

While both he and the Vampire had their attention drawn to the 'King of Sarkaz' and their old acquaintances, Rhodes Island and the Self-Salvation Corps have very likely been drawing ever closer to the information they need.

This was Rhodes Island's plan all along. They stood no chance of quickly defeating him and the Vampire. They simply wanted to buy themselves time.

I must...

You're too late.

Yes, he is. He can sacrifice an arm to escape from Ascalon, but the thing that's truly stopping him is the sea of blood before his eyes.

The Sanguinarch has already been angered. They are all trapped on this battlefield.

...Banshee.

You dare to plot the destruction of the Royal Court... the very manifestation of Sarkaz heritage?

An earth-shattering surge of blood envelops the entire command tower. The Rhodes Island Operators and the Defense Force soldiers are all moments away from being submerged.

That is, until a shapeless force divides this red sea of blood.

I do this not for destruction, but for my salvation.

Don't let your long memories bind you. Release yourself from your pride, from the olden days, Old Sarkaz King.

The Sarkaz have changed. The Sarkaz must change.

Under his bone pen, golden incantations write themselves loop by loop.

Heeding its master's rage, the pool of blood rises from the floor, the walls, and his head and charges toward the unapproachable young Banshee, as well as those he is shielding.

All because the Lord of Curses has already set the rules upon this high tower in a foreign land.

Doctor, the control tower...

The situation's intense.;I believe in Amiya, Logos, and Ascalon.

Phew... Looks like they managed to stall that scary guy...

Doctor, the drones have reached the control area.

Gonna start hacking now...

Give me an ETA.;How long will that take?

Half an hour... No, twenty minutes.

Doctor, I know Amiya and the Corps guys are having a tough time right now... Trust me, I wish I had a couple more pairs of hands too!

The gigantic machine lets out another growl.

The previously silent cannon begins to rev up again.

What just happened?

The men on the cannon are under attack!

There are hostiles in the distance...

Gah!

It's the Sarkaz!

No idea what kind of Arts those Sarkaz are using!

All of a sudden... I just couldn't breathe... I...

Confessarius witchcraft... These Sarkaz are their guards.

When one has one's life depleted by this witchcraft so quickly, not even medical Arts can save them.

Have Feist evacuate the cannon surroundings with our fighters.

But then the weapon will go out of control again.

Our men's lives are precious.

I... will destroy the berserk weapon.

*pant*... *pant*... Commander, I'm feeling much better...

Commander, are these... your Arts?

...No.

This light... is mobile.

Compared to mine... yes, it's much warmer.

L-Look! Someone just appeared behind those Confessarius guards! Who's that?

White horns, black robe... Is that... a Confessarius?

The Confessarius... She's fighting the other Sarkaz!

Doctor! That's—That's Shining!

Did you ask her to come here?

Kal'tsit has kept in touch with her.;She's doing this of her own accord.

I knew how badass Shining could get, but this is my first time seeing her fight for real.

How do I put it? I... I...

I'm starting to understand why she avoids fighting so much.

Madam Confessarius...

You came to the fight after all. Once again, you went against our leader's will.

If my actions are under his control, wouldn't that make my departure hardly meaningful?

Do you really despise our leader so much?

No.

I've never despised him. I've only ever despised myself.

The guard's mask splits, allowing his final expression before he succumbs to be reflected in the sheath of the Confessarius's sword.

Shining gazes at her opponent. Her eyes are both calm and sorrowful.

Once again, the final flicker of a living flame has been burned onto her blade forever.

The mist of blood is rapidly evaporating under the power of the witchcraft.

Countless beams of black energy are shot through the fissures torn open by the witchery.

The tides of blood that shroud the command tower have receded a little.

Hah.

Your swordsmanship... Not bad.

Your Highness, we must finish this quickly.

Don't disturb me.

The blood's roar forces Manfred to take a few steps back.

Ascalon's armblade follows him closely. He knows she won't let him get away easily.

A red bolt of lightning flashes across the clouds above the command tower.

This... The Teekazwurtzen.

Of course you'd know. Just as I know your armblade.

A signal... You're contacting him.

Amiya, we don't have much time.

Right, as long as we bring Lettou with us...

Nngh—!

Watch your defenses. The Vampire's power is far greater than this.

Hm... What a waste of blood.

The battle before was far from enough to satisfy the Vampire.

He turns his attention to the Victorian soldiers hiding nearby.

What...! You... You can't...

It'll be fine, Lettou. Soon enough, I shan't even need to keep you alive.

Lt. Colonel... Lt. Colonel!

Ngah—!

The soldiers can no longer speak.

They fumble their way to the Vampire, as blood sprays out of their spines, one stream after another, heeding his orders in their arms and legs, marching forward rapidly.

They have received the Sanguinarch's blessing.

Do it. To your heart's content.

Blood doesn't dry simply because of death. It will only flow faster, thanks to your futile actions.

His soldiers no longer follow his commands.

He watches them advance and advance... until they reach the edge of the rooftop.

The Sarkaz's fight will soon destroy this place. Their eyes do not even see these normal soldiers who are in flux between life and death.

Most of the soldiers are Victorian. They are of entirely different upbringings than him. They remain oblivious to his objective and the deal he made with the Sarkaz to this very moment.

They simply followed him here... to the edge.

*sigh*...

He knows he shouldn't have moved. The Vampire and Manfred would have been in no hurry to kill him as long as he hid in the far back.

But he still wanted to catch those soldiers about to fall to the depths below.

Ugh...

Black... energy beams... hah...

Lt. Colonel Lettou.

I can feel pain... in your eyes.

You think of yourself a Gaulish man. You revere a massive phantom of the past. You want to take hold of it and bring it back.

But...

Do you really believe the Sarkaz's word? Do you really believe... that your dream to rebuild Gaul is possible?

You are afraid, sir.

You pretend you still have control... because you don't want to face the coward in you who wants to flee the war.

You force yourself to believe that all the sacrifices you're making are for Gaul.

But... you can't forget the eyes of those men you've deceived, who you called to their deaths.

You... You are the young Lord of Fiends... they spoke of.

...I am.

And I am your enemy.

Yes.

But... you held me back. You don't want to see me die here.

They call you the Lord of Fiends... the King of Sarkaz... but all I see...

...is a kind, gentle girl.

Nngh—!

An intense pain suddenly seizes her.

This isn't the doing of the Liberi before her, nor is it the Originium Arts of the Vampire or Manfred.

After all, this isn't an attack.

Amiya, oh Amiya.

A voice calls out to her. A voice as soft as a snow-white feather quilt that has been set out to dry in the sun.

Amiya lifts her head.

The sky above her comes smashing down. The thick dark clouds surge towards her, engulfing her from top to bottom.

...Like a tight, suffocating embrace.

Doctor, Commander, we've taken back control of the cannon!

Ten minutes... Gimme just ten more minutes, and I'll take care of them all.

Phew... Doctor, for the first time these past few days, I think we just might be able to win this.

Miss Closure...

What's up?

I really wish you hadn't said that.

You're thinking I must've jinxed... it... Holy shit, Doctor, what the hell's... My surveillance drones' alarms all started blaring at once!

Come on, say something. Going all quiet like that is really freaking me out!

Wait, that's—

(Growls in warning)

Kal'tsit.;Kal'tsit is back.

She isn't buying us time... Uh...

Doctor, you aren't trying to tell me... the Nachzehrer came back early, are you?

Their advance must have been silent. Otherwise, someone was sure to have noticed that they had broken through the walls and crossed half the city.

These footsteps are nothing but a signal that penetrates the hearts of all those on the battlefield through the trembling ground.

Every street their eyes can reach is filled with Sarkaz warriors.

The shadows cast by the dark clouds above cannot engulf them. After all, they are the dark shadows themselves. They are the ones who engulf the land.