level_main_13-02_beg

Endless reports.

An avalanche of intel has flooded this lonely battleship ever since it left Norport.

There are signs of trouble from Leithanien to the east, Sargon to the southwest, Kjerag to the west... while everything remains silent in the south.

The messages are suffocating, eating away at my nerves.

My mother seems utterly unmoved, impassively issuing order after order.

But even she cannot resist a frown when she reads the 'congratulations' from her fellow dukes.

This is her life.

She is here, and so this is my Lynncardine.

I am home.

Focus, Delphine. Listen to the reports. This is no time to let your mind wander.

She adjusts the position of her eye patch. Is it to hide the wrinkles?

The weather here is very different from Lynncardine. It's suppressed, heavy, the gloom of rain and fog ever present.

I just want to—

What are you gazing at so absent-mindedly, Delphine?

Nothing, Mother.

It's just...

I don't get to see Londinium from this angle very often.

I know how you look when your mind is wandering.

Are you bored by the chatters from the rear?

No... I'm just thinking about Norport Borough.

Sorry, I didn't expect the situation in Londinium to deteriorate so much, so quickly.

I should have arranged for your evacuation sooner.

We had compiled reports on everything that went on in Londinium, but we weren't able to bring them.

We should be the ones apologizing.

That's alright. A few little troubles don't mean much to the big picture.

Perhaps the Duke of Caster should be held responsible for most of them.

I know. Let's hope my Messenger isn't making things too difficult for her right now.

But the value of that intel to subsequent operations...

Pales in comparison to your value, Delphine. Relax.

I'm here, and Irnclad Galavae is nearby. Everything will be right again once we return to the city.

We'll restore Londinium, and Victoria.

Of course.

Mother, I...

I thought I would die down there.

I wouldn't let that happen to my daughter.

You've done well. You have the patience and attention to detail of your father.

But you don't have to be the one to do all that work. You're my heir, and your place is at Lynncardine.

Our standoff with Leithanien can be trying. You'll need to get used to those matters. Plus... I could use someone to talk to.

I thought I could do better.

...Sorry.

There are many things that a Duke of Windermere must worry about, for which she needs nerves of steel.

But that's not your burden. Not yet.

You can rely on your mother, at least until she's too old to walk.

I understand... thank you, mother.

We'll be home in another four or five hours. I've arranged for all the stuff you left behind at the old house to be set up.

Your pajamas, your pillow, your bed, your bathtub.

That's all stuff from before I came to Londinium—

It's not like you're any taller.

I have some nice things for you as well, but I'll keep those a secret for now.

Get a good night's sleep once we're back.

But don't get complacent. We have a lot to do.

What is it?

I was in Londinium a long time, wasn't I?

I had many friends. Outstanding friends, from whom I had a lot to learn.

We lived in a city in disorder, chewing up and swallowing the lives we once had. But we believed in our cause. I was proud of it.

Then... things changed. One agent after another disappeared, and the Sarkaz took the city...

I was on my own. I had to live with more... common people. For the first time, I learned how they lived, and how they viewed Victoria.

Most of them are dead now. Those who still live huddle in the bowels of this ship, waiting for you to decide their fate.

One hundred meters beneath my pajamas, bed, and bathtub.

Hmm.

I'm really grateful, really, but is it all because—

She does not let me finish.

She puts her hand on my head without patting it, but I know this is her way of showing affection.

You did well, my daughter. You exceeded my expectations.

Go and see the troops below. It'll do you good to talk with them.

With that, Her Grace departs. She's always swift and decisive. I have no chance to say any more.

I scratch my slightly untidy head.

Mother!

We can talk later.

You shouldn't have come here yourself!

The words that come out of my own mouth surprise me.

Was it not because of my call for help that she came?

How could I say that.

It's too... risky!

We can't fully trust the Leithanians, and we don't know what the Sarkaz are planning next!

We've fallen behind on intel—

She dismisses me with a wave, perhaps telling me not to think too much about it.

Her silhouette remains sharp, making me feel like I'm worrying too much, and that she can take handle it all.

Sigh. She's right.

I'm not much taller at all.

How long will our food last?

I don't think this warship was prepared to take on so many refugees.

We can't just leave 'em to fend for themselves!

Mrs. Emil grabbed my hand just now. She didn't say nuffin'. All she did was look at me...

I... I can't take it anymore. Let's find Delphine!

Calm down, Hannah. We're on someone else's ship.

I just—

I'll go keep 'em company. The old timers will feel better with a familiar face around.

I'll stay with you.

Sorry to keep you waiting. I talked to the quartermaster.

Some food will make it to those who need it most... that's the best I can do.

Thank you, Delphine, and thanks to Duke Windermere.

Part of me hopes that Mother really wants to help these poor people out of the kindness of her heart, but...

I know. It's because of me, or should I say, because of who I am.

It's fine, as long as it helps the people who fled with us.

You've adapted quickly, Vina.

The time when we could do as we pleased has passed, Delphine.

Many souls on this ship are counting on me. I have a responsibility to them, both as Vina and as the Siege.

Lots of people are looking at us. I can tell Vina is busy.

Mother's ship is one of the biggest of the Victorian ships-of-the-line, but it was never designed to evacuate civilians. Certainly not this many.

The people of Norport are squeezed into holds meant to store ammunition and weapons, trying their best to find a clean place to sit down.

This is not the best accommodation, even if the most dangerous weapons have been removed. Vina's gang are doing their best to maintain order.

The refugees whisper about her amongst themselves. The officers on the ship pay no heed, nor does Vina respond to their calls of 'Your Majesty' or 'Your Royal Highness'.

Regardless, she has become the heart and soul of this place.

Perhaps the civilians don't even realize themselves, but the reason they trust Vina is not so much because of her status, but because she is the only one they can rely on in this unfamiliar environment.

How goes the war?

The number of reports coming in is unreal. Too many variables to keep track of.

The Duke of Wellington's offensive is unsteady, and our own defensive lines are being pressed...

We should have an overwhelming advantage in terms of forces, even if the dukes have yet to commit their full strength. We are facing a foe beyond the scope of modern military theory.

The Nachzehrer King... the only thing we know about him comes from sparse records of ancient times.

It has been too long since Victoria, indeed Terra as a whole, last faced a real Sarkaz army.

What chain reaction will their witchcraft produce? Are they really as primitive and backwards as the records say?

What force have the various Sarkaz branches come together to form, where we can't see them? Why do they stand together?

No need to worry too much, though. Mother... Duke Windermere and Duke Wellington will conduct this war together.

The Duke of Caster has also publicly declared her allegiance. The stalemate will not last long.

Once we return to Irnclad Galavae, both supplies and support will—

Whoa! What was that?

Looks like we're passing through a canyon... a good thing. It means we're about to leave the battlefield.

A canyon.

I feel even less at ease.

I know where mother's confidence comes from. This ship is defended by Windermere's pride, her Swordguards.

If the Sarkaz think this merely a reckless act by the Duke of Windermere, they will find themselves on the receiving end of blades that have been honed since the War of the Four Emperors.

But do we truly know the Sarkaz?

Is the ship slowing down, Siege?

I think so. And the weather outside... say, what time is it?

How long has it been since we left Norport?

A few hours, I think.

Is this just an ordinary canyon?

Yes, nothing remarkable besides some abandoned factories...

Abandoned factories. Yes, this place has been abandoned since before Londinium fell into chaos.

Why? Because of Catastrophe.

The massive crystal formations that Catastrophe left behind...

Be careful!

Hey, I'm talking to you!

Something's not right.

There's a different smell in the air.

I look around instinctively. All the elite soldiers in the hold are gone.

This is not right!

Get away from him, Hannah!

Siege pulls her back before I can.

I see the soldier smiling at me.

Look out!

It's too late.

Blood seeps from the gaps in the ceiling, dripping into the infiltrator's eyes.

Drip.

Merge.

Spread.

Blood?

Where did this blood come from?

Look out!

Siege pushes me away. An instant later, a blood mist bursts where I stood.

Soon, the entire hold is engulfed in crimson.

Blood mist? Sarkaz witchcraft!

Too many civilians here.

Morgan, Dagda, Indra.

The four of them exchange gazes, and take up positions around the frightened crowd.

The emotions in the crowd ranges from shock to panic. Some in the corners begin to scream, without even seeing exactly what happened.

Go down! The stairs are to the north!

Lady Delphine!

Are you the ship's doctor?

We're under attack by witchcraft. The ship's casters can't decipher it yet. The Duke and—

Damn, how did they—

Look out!

A claw slaps away the sword that was inches from his throat.

The blood mist disperses, then reconverges, taking a gooey, wet form.

A Sarkaz emerges from the bloody shadow.

(In Sarkaz) The Vampire's witchcraft has taken hold.

I know that outfit... the skull mask...

(In Sarkaz) The Sighs of Kings... one variable to eliminate.

(In Sarkaz) Cause chaos and eliminate the outblood. Hesitate not to spill your own blood.

(In Sarkaz) Oh?

You were part of the siege of the Knights of the Tower...

Careful! I've gotcha!

(In Sarkaz) You will die here with your king, Victorian.

(In Sarkaz) Do it.

(Mother is on deck, but we still have civilians and our people below... I...)

Delphine! Your left!

Ugh!

Careful.

Sorry, thanks.

There aren't many of them. We can pin them down. The reinforced compartment is one bulkhead away. Get the civilians there—

No, there's something more important that you must do.

Those people came with me. I promised to protect them.

Duke Windermere likely doesn't know how bad things are below.

Go and inform her. I'll hold out until your reinforcements arrive.

But I—

This suits us better. You have a formal command structure. There's no way to integrate us quickly.

Vina...

Go!

Damn, you've got a hard head. Almost made my hand go numb.

*Sarkaz profanity*...

(In Sarkaz) So be it. The Sighs of Kings will be spoils enough.

(In Sarkaz) Surround the Aslan.

Get ready for a brawl, mates.

For an instant, I wished I was with them.

Like when I first joined Slobberknocker Gym, when I went from being alone to being in a community.

Cador, and... Baird.

We stood together.

This ends now.

The swing of the hammer compresses the air in the passage. It roars.

Tiny drops of liquid fall on my face.

My vision blurs.

Delphine!

A shadow draws near.

Delphine!

Mother?

I try to wipe my eyes.

I see another pair of eyes right there in front of me.

Red flows from their sockets.

Delphine... go no further...

You're hurt—

You'll only be in the way. Same for me.

Kill me, before whatever this is consumes me.

The Swordguards and Her Grace will kill the Sarkaz.

Do not put yourself in danger, Delphine... no...

I don't even feel the pain anymore...

Free me. Then stop.

I draw my sword.

She is still conscious. I should not do this to her. But I see the relief in her eyes.

She grabs my sword, sending it into her own body.

I'm trembling. I can't see clearly.

Lady Delphine—You must live—

Thank you—for freeing me—

I look down and see the red eyes.

She gives up breathing, smiling to the end.

This is... Sarkaz...

Mother...

My feet cannot move. Worry, unease, and fear grip them.

The lights go out. The only light comes from above deck.

There is only silence amongst the bodies. Rain solidifies as it falls.

Flowing backwards, evaporating, converging.

A red-black sun rises into the sky, obscuring its white counterpart.

A bloodless complexion emerges from the black sun, not a speck of blood on it.

He descends from the black sun.

I avert my gaze.

Am I afraid?

How shameful...

Hmm.

You should not have dodged.

The paleness of your face would have contrasted well with the blood drops.

They would have painted a picture of beautiful despair.

Hmph.

Leeches can't stop playing with blood, I see.

Nothing has changed with you people, even after all these centuries.

Rain begins to fall again.

Drip. Drop.

Look.

It's a good day to die.

Your Grace, this attack was planned.

As expected.

For a sovereign of the Sarkaz to pay a personal visit, though... all well and good, I suppose.

The battle below is not going well. The officers are organizing the defense.

No matter. This one is our only threat.

Mother... the Duke of Windermere points her sword towards the invading Sarkaz leader.

I cannot see the expression on her face, but I know that is not the mother I know so well.

The soldier was right. I would only be in the way.

I've long had enough of Leithanian Spire Arts.

I wonder what the spine of a Vampire looks like.

Hmmm.

You're a strong Victorian. You don't think you'll shirk back.

But your blood will betray you.

The creator built a bridge of life for humanity, and I stand above the bridge.

Oh?

Not any worse than those spire madmen.

A blue blade cuts through the rain of blood.

A tiny drop of rain cuts open Mother's cheek.

Was it the red rain, or blood seeping out? I could not see.

There is no change in Mother's expression, but... have I ever seen her get hurt before?

Poor fool.

Still clinging to dreams and fantasies.

Guess why your battleship fell from within?

Focus on the mission at hand, soldiers.

Ready.

Roger.

Your duty is to kill the enemies of Windermere, not protect the life of Windermere.

Do all you can to weaken the Sarkaz. Victoria will take back what is hers.

The Vampire's movement starts to slow.

No, the Swordguards are too fast.

I've received formal military training. I did not go to Londinium unprepared.

But here and now, I realize the weight of the words 'Duke of Windermere'.

My mother never let her daughter see the kinds of battlefields that she knew.

Hm.

Not bad, not bad... you aren't a duke of Victoria for nothing.

How many Sarkaz have you eaten?

I don't have any such disgusting habits.

No.

You and your ancestors reveled in war, from Kazimierz to Leithanien.

A Duke of Windermere once had an army of Sarkaz. In the War of the Four Nations, which engulfed most of the land...

How did you or your ancestor use them?

Parlor tricks, the theft of witchcraft, a favorite of the Nachzehrer.

The blood and flesh of Sarkaz spread across the battlefield, becoming yet another bulwark for your glorious armada.

You ate them up, alright.

Are you after revenge, Sarkaz?

Of course.

How dare you trifle with the methods of my creation, the property of the Crimson Court?

He's being strengthened by the blood of the fallen?

No.

It is no longer bodily fluids, but a part of the curse.

Prepare counter-Arts.

Stay calm.

Take a deep breath.

My throat is coarse. I cannot speak. I try to gasp for air, but the smell of blood is all there is.

Vampire and... Confessarius.

This is Mother's flagship. Lynncardine's most experienced commanders, bravest sailors and most steadfast warriors are gathered here.

Mother once told me that war is not about heroes, about charging into danger. A commander must see the whole battlefield, in order to see the way to victory.

But—

I realize why this ship sailed deep behind enemy lines without support.

Because of me.

I...

No...

This is no time for self-flagellation.

I have to do something. If there is no place on Mother's battlefield for me... someone must bring order.

One of the Kings of the Sarkaz Court is here. But would they really attack us so recklessly?

My espionage background tells me that something is missing from this puzzle.

I have to do something.

Think!

Could it be...? No, Arts that can teleport an entire army are unheard of... our ship fell from within...

I know this feeling...

Damazti.

I encountered him personally when leaving Norport. I had heard about this terrible King of the Sarkaz Court from Amiya. But he was defeated. How could he...?

Still, this is the most likely answer.

There are two Kings of the Sarkaz Court on this ship.

A truly terrifying conclusion.

But what about the Vampire? Why didn't he go straight to his target, if he could use his witchcraft on the officers?

Attacking secondary targets with witchcraft, then creating disorder with assassins... that's too inefficient.

But the Sarkaz fighting with Mother...

The Damazti... did he simply infiltrate us by taking the face of a Victorian?

If...

—Damn it!

Mother!

Delphine?! Stay back—

That one's fake!

The Swordguards' weapons impale the Vampire.

The light of Arts penetrate the Sarkaz's twisted visage. The Arts of the Swordguards of Windermere, passed down from generation to generation, are simple, but brutally effective.

Mother quickly sets her sights back on the target.

I draw my sword.

The Swordguards do not hear my cry, but Mother is ready.

The Vampire laughs.

The massive Blood Arts explode before it can be cast.

A gust of wind sweeps through the sticky air, blowing away the sanguine rain and wind.

Death falls silent. True terror begins to spread, slowly but surely.

Blood converges upon the hand of the silhouette, forming a crystal. Then...

The other, the true—

Enough.

I don't enjoy seeing another wear my face.

The Swordguards pull back instantly.

Even so, two of them are late by an eyelash, and their flesh takes incomprehensible form in a split second.

I can feel my sword hand trembling, my throat seizing up. This is a battle beyond my comprehension.

A little girl saw through your disguise.

You're losing your touch, Damazti. The previous you would have been more convincing.

Is that so?

These Arts are merely a poor imitation by the Confessarius.

Foul, uncouth, vulgar killing.

He looks towards me, then towards Mother.

I'm trembling.

Delphine.

Y-Yes!

Good job seeing through the trick. All the Swordguards would have been lost.

But there's nothing more you can do here now.

I, I—

The escort fleet is approaching. We must ensure that communication with the fleet is maintained.

The communications tower... it's behind the deck!

The enemy is few in number. Go.

...I'm counting on you.

She pats my shoulder with an injured hand.

Only then do I notice that she has many more scars on her than I remembered.

Understood.

I turn around and run for the communications tower.

Pride overcame fear in that instant. Mother said, 'I'm counting on you.'

I see the Confessarii trying to blow the communications tower, and our soldiers still resisting.

Thank goodness, the communications tower hasn't fallen yet—

The ship's slowing down?

It's the engines! They're attacking the engine room!

D-Damn it!

Grab my hand!

Don't look back! Get up!

Thank you! Oh, L-Lady Delphine—

We must regroup and counterattack. Reinforcements are on the way.

Listen up, men!

Dust clouds in the distance! Help is on the way!

Their plan—

Has failed? So easily?

I turn around.

The front of the deck has been completely engulfed in red fog, with only the flashing of sword and vampiric Arts to penetrate it.

Why do I feel so uneasy?

I—

Delphine! Look out!

A pair of eyes peer at me, in the infinite raindrops, in the reflection of blood on the deck.

The Vampire's hand brushes my neck. Why? Is he not fighting Mother?

Vina tries to push me away, but it's too late.

My sword. I still have my sword.

I am her daughter.

She is counting on me.

The blood-woven crimson witchcraft vanishes into thin air.

*Pant*... *pant*...

Are you alright?

I'm fine... it's all in my head...

Your troops are holding back the enemy down below, so we've come up to help.

The bad news is that we found traces of the Damazti down there.

We know. The Sanguinarch and Damazti are attacking together.

No, wait...

That attack was not a Damazti feint. It was true blue vampiric witchcraft.

If the King of the Sarkaz Court had intended to kill me, there is no reason I should still be alive.

It was not my own strength that allowed me to resist.

He had other plans. There's no doubt about that.

Once again, I look towards the Swordguards. Their swords are still flashing. I can faintly see their silhouettes converging—

Something's not right.

They are falling, one by one.

They're backing up?

This is not right!

Where is Mother?

Delphine? Where are you going?

Agh, dreadful!

(In Sarkaz) The scent of blood has changed. The Confessarius has succeeded, as has the Sanguinarch.

(In Sarkaz) Pull back.

(In Sarkaz) Those unable to do so, drive your daggers into your hearts on my command.

You—

Impossible.

Even if the fight against the fake Vampire had taken its toll, Mother and her Swordguards could not have fallen so easily.

I know the legends of Windermere's sword which no wall could stop, the blade of light that struck down the spires, one of Victoria's two sharpest swords.

I grew up listening to them.

Why? How?

I charge into the fog of blood, hearing only my accelerating heartbeat.

Finally, I spy a figure.

Ugh...

You have lost all sensation in your arms. Your guards are routed.

How do you feel now?

Argh... ugh...

Sarkaz...

He caught you.

An instant of weakness, of disorder... why? We do not understand.

We find it... regrettable.

She's finished. Let this great warrior savor the fading of life.

Are you leaving?

I have no interest in the inconsequential deaths that remain.

One glance from that devil is enough to freeze my blood.

But he does not kill me.

This blood is a penny a gallon.

What are you after? We are unsure.

The age of shame is coming to an end.

Are you hurt?

...It does not matter.

He disappears into the blood.

Y... You...

Oh, there you are.

The one who saw through us.

He said we were losing our touch. How convincing was the last one?

Is this good enough?

Don't—you dare—wear her—face—

He smiles at me with Mother's face.

...We must try.

Then, with an identical sword—Mother's sword—

He impales his own chest.

Sarkaz!

In my fury I try to charge, but my body refuses to move.

(In Sarkaz) We'll do better next time.

He whispers in my ear, wearing my own face.

Mother's sword is still in his chest.

In 'my' chest.

He falls, then familiar blood witchcraft covers him, consuming him.

After the blood boils and evaporates, it is as though nothing had ever happened.

All I can do is pick up Mother's sword.

I...

I catch sight of Mother.

The sound of fighting has stopped. The wind has calmed. The ship has stopped.

I see blue hair on the ground. Mother is bleeding.

Delphine...

I can't see very well...

Have they retreated?

Mo...ther...

They're gone...

Mother... I, I'll call for the doctors—

You'll be fine. You're the Duke of Windermere. You're my mother.

Wait here, I'll—

I couldn't beat him... I can't believe it...

Don't go, Delphine... don't go...

Let me... look at you...

Mother's body grows cold in my arms.

I dare not let go.

The sound of Mother's heartbeat fades further and further away.

Don't cry.

I... I'm not crying, Mother.

I saw you swing your sword, Delphine... very good.

You had injured your hand. Your grip... it was never right. I was too hasty.

Mother... don't say any more...

Mother gazes towards the horizon. Is that the direction of Londinium?

Her eyes have always lain upon Victoria.

I remember... the direction your father left in...

We had a surprise for you... one that we prepared long ago...

Mother...

Delphine, you—

I thought you would be taller... the clothes will be a bit loose...

Just... calm down, Delphine...

The rain stops.