Corpse Dance under Ashes is a co-written web novel, with chapters alternating on two individual yet intertwining stories. Odd chapters are by JUN while even chapters are by EDY

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Hm… she's not here, either.

I continue to search around, paying little attention to my injuries, looking for any indications or hints as to where Florence could be. Having currently searched the majority of the base, I expected to have found at least some sort of clue as to where she could be about now. And yet, there was no trace of her.

Could there be some kind of hidden basement? …No, that's ridiculous. Then did I just miss her? I was spacing out a little, so I guess it's possible. But if I'd gotten near her, then wouldn't she have said something? Maybe she's asleep, since it's night? ...that'd be impossible with the commotion before. It wouldn't even be weird for any of the people here to have accidentally bumped or stepped on her from panic.

The thought of some soldier stepping on Florence puts an image of her being badly injured in my head. Despite it being almost a given that she would be in a far worse state, the thought still frustrates me.

Ahh, I'm worried. If she's awake, she would've called for me if I was nearby her, right. Or, I guess she would have no idea about what's going on right now. There's no way for her to know that someone had come to save her, let alone that it's me. In that case, should I start shouting for her so she can hear me? Hm…

My train of thought is interrupted by a sudden noise of movement from the distance. My body tenses up as I immediately begin to unsheath my sword. Someone's still alive? I take cautious yet indefinite steps towards the figure in the distance, but as I get closer, I see the state the person is in. Both his arms and his right leg are immobilized, and he has a wound far too deep on his right chest to last longer than a couple hours. Apparently, I had been sloppy with him in the earlier battle. Just as I'm about to clean my mess up, I stop myself, having thought of an idea. I pin the tip of my blade below his chin, and lift his head up.

"Where's Florence?"

The man blinks several times, seemingly not fully registering the situation. Well, I guess no one in their right mind would move around and make noise when I was right there. After a moment, his blank stare turns into one of disgust. No, anger, maybe? Slowly, he opens his mouth, revealing a bloody and sticky interior. Eventually, words begin to come out.

"Go… to hell, you…"

I stare at him in surprise. It already occurred to me earlier because of his gaze but, he's angry? I mean, a guy literally came to his base alone and killed everyone there— shouldn't he be scared? Shocked, at least? The badge next to the wound on his chest in addition to his uniform that had a tinge of dark green indicated he was of a high ranking position, most likely a commanding officer. I try to imagine the Captain in the same position as him, and I don't imagine him talking either. Maybe it just comes with the job.

Putting that aside, this is awkward. On one hand I could just go back to searching for Florence on my own. But not only would it just be easier for me if he told me where she's being kept, it's also likely to be much faster, which is the biggest priority right now.

But with the way this guy is acting right now… I pull my blade back and stare at it. Torture, huh? I don't really know much about it. It seems like something Glynn would be good at. I should've asked him for some tips before I came here.

I stare blankly at the man in front of me, pondering on how to move forward. I try to think back to some books and television dramas that I had seen before the war had begun, but given how many years ago that was, I struggle to make out any details. Well… I guess the key points would be to scare him enough that talking is better than me continuing? That sounds reasonable?

I cut his left leg off. The soldier screams in agony, though there's a clear effort to hold it back.

"Where's Florence?"

After the man's screaming dies down, he looks down on his leg and pants furiously, before finally looking back up to me. He opens his mouth again like earlier, but this time his lower lip slightly curls back, and he spits at me. It doesn't reach me due to the distance between us. I try to think back to what characters said in torture scenes. I can remember a character saying something along the lines of, "if you tell me I'll let you live," but it doesn't seem to fit this context given his current wounds. And I cut his only good leg off just now, anyway.

As the soldier's panting dies down however, I notice another sound of breathing from the right. I immediately raise my sword as I approach it, only to find another soldier with fatal injuries. The sight of no impending danger spurs me to reflect. At the very least I've sloppily dealt with two people. Perhaps somewhat contrary to the love I had for combat, my ability to retain a collected demeanor amidst battle was something I was proud of. Is it because of the large scale of the battle? Did I let the adrenaline get to my head? Returning my attention to the survivor, their clothing lacks the glamor and colored tints on the other commanding officer's uniform. Taking a closer look at the person's face, it's clear that not only are they younger, but the person is a woman. Best of all, she looks terrified.

As I get closer to her, she begins to speak before I say anything.

"Wai-wait! I, I," Although for once I wasn't the one initiating the conversation, it seemed as though I would still have to drive it in the right direction.

"Where's Florence?" For what feels like the tenth time or so in the past five minutes, I repeat the same line.

"Flor– I don't know where that is!" "Where?" She thinks Florence is a location?

"The woman you captured. I heard it was yesterday. Where is she?"

"Wha…" The female soldier's expression changes from fear, though it's still far from the one worn by her superior. Instead of fear or anger, it's one of simple shock. Maybe she's surprised that all her comrades died for just one woman? Though what she was shocked at was uncertain, what was clear was that she knew of Florence's presence. "I… I don't know. I don't know where she is, foot soldiers like me don't know about those kinds of things."

Hm… I put my hand to my head. On one hand, she doesn't seem like she's lying. She's obviously scared, and in the first place there isn't any reason for her not to tell me where Florence is. After all, if I keep looking I'll eventually find her. The only reason I can think of is spite, which makes sense for the guy over there, but this woman seems to care much more about not dying in this instant than something like spite.

Still, I guess it's worth a try anyway. If she's hiding something, then I can hope a little more on her talking than the other one. I cut her right arm off, and begin to wait for her screaming to quieten. It's far louder than her superior's, with a blatant lack of restraint. What breaks the silence isn't me, however, but the male soldier from a distance. Although his voice is quiet and delayed, I manage to make it out.

"Sh… e… told you, …she doesn't… know," I try my hardest to hold in my laughter in the face of the officer's transparency.

"Okay, can you tell me where she is then?"

"..." Unfortunately, my request is met with silence. Really? What a pain…

I crouch down right in front of the woman, who shows barely no reaction presumably from the pain she was still experiencing. When I pick up her left arm, however, she immediately jolts up.

"No, wait, ple– I, I told you I don't–"

I grab hold of the woman's thumb and two leftmost fingers. She flails her only arm around as much as possible, so I have to firm my grip. I line the edge of my sword in between her middle finger and her ring finger, and begin making a vertical cut in between the two fingers, through her hand and then her arm. For the past two arms I'd simply made a horizontal cut under the person's shoulder, cutting off any bone in the way. But with the presumption that this will go better if I can continue for a long period of time, I try to change my approach.

Although I have my suspicions for a few short moments when the woman's resulting screaming isn't as loud as before, after I cut through a couple of bones, I'm relieved as the noise gets louder. Before I even reach the elbow, I can once again hear the man's voice in the distance.

"I'll tell you! I'll tell you so–" I stand up and make my way towards the man as I wait for him to continue. "She's… not here."

"What?"

"We took her to another camp. It's not that far away, just north from here…" Contrary to my beliefs, apparently the man hadn't been keeping quiet only out of spite.

Thank god I chose to stay here instead of going back to looking for Florence myself. I kill the two and ponder what to do next.

I remember the Captain speaking about a base north from this place in one of the briefings last week, so I can probably find my way there. Only thing to consider is whether I return back to base momentarily before I go. I try to weigh the pros and cons of each option, ultimately realizing that there wasn't much I could get even if I went back now. They told me not to come here, after all. I'll probably hear the same thing about it being suicide or something since I doubt anyone will be willing to come with me this time, either. I'm worried about Florence anyway. I don't want to go out of my way to prolong the time she's in captivity.

Despite being in possibly the worst possible situation, having essentially wasted all my time and effort, I feel a minor rush of excitement at the realization that I can repeat the same experience from earlier again. I'll quickly look through for some equipment before I leave. Oh, I should probably–

A cold breeze on my back brings me awake. Another dream from the war… As I rub my eyes open and slowly start to properly awake from my sleep, I begin to recognize an aching pain all over my body.

…What? What'd I do last night? I try to recall my actions before I went to sleep, but I can't even remember the act of going to sleep itself. I've really done it this time, haven't I... Bringing myself up from bed, I hold my head up to try and get myself together.

"Haah…" I breathe out while holding my palm in front of my face. It doesn't smell of alcohol. Have I been passed out for so long that the smell isn't even there anymore? I try to feel around my body for any signs of injury, and feel some swelling on the back of my head. A bruise? Did I get into a fight? I try again to remember the events prior to sleeping last night, but to no avail. In the first place, what time is it? I draw open the curtains, causing an orange light to slowly gleam into the room. Outside, there's a deep orange and blue sky hovering over the center of Alyona. The view is no longer unfamiliar, though I haven't gotten used to it enough to call it familiar, either.

Wait… I rub my eyes and reconfirm the color of the sky. It's evening?

I head to the living room for the clock to reconfirm. The clock points to 5:16. If it's 5 AM, then the sky would be filled with more blue than the orange currently filling it, meaning it's evening. The time being past 5 in the afternoon meant the situation is more serious than I thought. I close my eyes to once again attempt to reorganize my thoughts. The last thing that I can remember is leaving for work. Because of that, I assumed it was morning and that I just didn't remember the day before. But it's 5 PM right now, and my work ends at 6. In other words, there's almost an entire 24 hour gap between my memory and the current time.

Is it possible to get so carried away with drinking that you'd forget an entire day? I guess that would explain the bruise, but then how did I get back home?

In any case, I guess I really do need to cut down on my drinking. I can't continue this kind of thing when Yuika moves in. I sigh. I can already hear Aubin lecturing me if he finds out about this. Though on the bright side, I guess it's one less day waiting for Yuika to move in.

Turning my back to the window, I stare at the crimson sky for a few moments. Wait, what about work? I dash towards my closet before realizing that it would be too late anyway with the time being past 5, considering the commute time. No, in the first place, yesterday was a Friday, so today is a Saturday, meaning I don't have work.

I sit back down in relief. Two good things then.

…

"Saturday…?"

Upon saying the word out loud, a certain memory from yesterday comes back to me.

"Lieutenant, remember you have a meeting with Sir Denzo tomorrow. Don't forget just because it's the weekend, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. And don't call me that."

Ah.

I burst open the door before realizing my mistake, slamming it into the wall and bouncing off of it, emitting a massive thud in the process. I slowly grab hold of the handle and gently push the door before walking into the room as if it mattered at this point.

"Officer Caspar. You're late." Denzo makes a brilliant deduction as I enter the room.

"I'm sorry, I had been too focused on my training with the others and lost track of time."

"Training, you say." Such words leave the slimy mouth of the man on the right of Denzo. Not that the man's mouth is actually slimy, but his sliminess impacts my description of any part of him. Well, I don't know him, but the fact that he's sitting adjacent to Denzo gives me a good guess on his character.

His attire consists of glasses and a typical noble's clothing, though it does have some more black and gray than what is typical. His name was… I can't remember. Maybe it was Kenzo. It definitely wasn't, but he's an aristocrat and a part of this meeting forcing me here, so a name close to the scumbag that is Denzo perfectly fit him. If I remember correctly, he was in power of the finances regarding various divisions, including the Royal Guard.

The one on his right was… It's no good. Lenzo it is. I think he's some important person overseeing management of the certain divisions overseen by the Royal Family, something like that. Whatever role he had that I couldn't remember, I at least can remember that he holds plenty of power and influence. I was under the impression that he had no say in things regarding the Royal Guards, the only thing that would remotely connect me with these people, though. Either I'm mistaken, or Denzo had invited inconsequential members as a part of this 'meeting' to intimidate me.

On the left of Denzo were two other men. Penzo and Jenzo, who I remember even less about. But given they were even sitting on the same table as Denzo, they're bound to be people with their fair share of power. "It's great to see that you and the other Royal Guards are so enthusiastic."

"Well, us Royal Guards need to keep ourselves in the best possible shape to do our job, after all." I speak with the most emotionless tone I can manage in response to the most meaningless complement.

"Yes, of course. But… don't you think that some of your efforts could be better placed… elsewhere?"

"Sorry?"

"You… Nugatories– you were all certainly of great value during the war, none can deny that. All and every knight that served in the war– we, no, everyone appreciates, and the Nugatories were certainly indispensable."

"Right…." What is he getting at?

"But in this current time, I don't believe that the personnel count at the Royal Guards are necessarily… ideal." Ah. A polite yet firm and definite tone. The way he speaks, being so roundabout and beating around the bush… As I continue to blankly agree and nod at seemingly appropriate times while paying the bare minimum amount of attention, the same thought that has consumed me for the past few months returns.

This position– this lifestyle– it really doesn't suit me.

"...par? Officer Caspar?"

"Huh? Oh. I'm sorry. I understand. I'll make some revisions in regards to the proposed departments of the Royal Guards with a lowered personnel count."

"Yes, very good."

"In that case, may I leave now?"

Most members all quietly nodded or offered their expressions of complacency, all except the horizontally gifted Denzo.

"Actually, there is one thing."

"Yes?"

"It should go without saying, but please ensure that the personnel cuts have no bias to the former Nugatories, giving a fair opportunity to all. I think we can agree that that is fair. Yes, Officer Caspar?"

"Well I–"

"You know what, I'll send one of my men to assist you. He'll make sure that there is no bias or any present in your proposal before you submit it to us. Naturally you will have full control of the proposal, but my men will just make the… 'finishing touches', yes." I make the most sincere effort to hold in a sigh.

"Lieutenant!"

I turn towards the direction of the voice, and see a familiar face running towards me. I take a moment to look at her before addressing her properly. Her brown hair is longer than before, extending past her neck when it used to be in a bob. Her body looks more slim, though it might just be because of her attire. She's no longer surrounded in the heavy, thick, iron armor that I was used to seeing, instead wearing a black uniform with a skirt and golden decoratives all over. She's… pretty. It wasn't that it was the first time I'd seen her since the war, far from it. I simply have failed to get used to it. Not her, not this job, none of it. Yet the way that she looked, it felt different than usual. A certain feeling began to consume my chest upon seeing her.

"Florence, how many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that? I'm just an officer now, like you and everyone else."

She laughs my retort off as usual. "You'll always be the Lieutenant to me! Besides, 'just being an officer?' There's a difference between a Chief Officer and us plain old officers, you know?"

"Right…" I'd probably be better off were that not the case. "What are you doing here on the weekend?"

"Waiting for you, of course!"

"Look at you, getting all cute with me."

"Hehe," She grins and circles around me and as she gets closer, making the difference in our height more obvious with her having to look slightly up. "What about you? Coming back from a meeting?"

"Yeah, with some dirty old bastards."

"Oh, the meeting with Sir Denzo– you're coming back from it just now? No wonder you look so upset. What was it about?"

"They beat around the bush forever, but ultimately they want to lower the number of people in the Royal Guards."

"Eh? Why? Is there a lack of budget?"

"More than that, it is a time of peace. Forget war, there's hardly any crime in this city now."

"Sure, but… wait, are they decreasing personnel equally or is it just ex-Nugatories?"

"From the looks of it, just us."

"I knew it! There's obviously a different agenda! Those nobles still hate us Nugatories to this day even after all we've done?"

"Not much we can do about it. And you should probably stop using that title. We're just regular old Royal Guards now, remember?"

Florence pouts. That's right. We aren't the Nugatories anymore. No longer in the glorious platoon that had grasped victory for Eudocia in the War, but Royal Guards.

"Obviously not, seeing as they're only getting rid of us! After completely getting rid of the Knights of Eudocia and transferring all of us to the Royal Guards, they're firing only the Nugatories?" Florence's expression quickly changes to one filled with frustration. "God, they make me so mad! I'm so mad, so you're going to have to take me out to dinner right now, okay lieutenant?"

"Hah, alright. As long as you don't call me that."

"Oh, have you heard the recent rumors? Like the one about the sudden rise in impulse killings." Amidst dinner, Florence brings up another topic.

"I've heard plenty of rumors, but nothing about impulse killings. They're getting more creative by the day, aren't they."

"You haven't even heard the whole thing! They say that it's a manmade virus that's turning people into crazy, bloodthirsty killers!"

"Right…"

Florence laughs. "There really have been lots of rumors recently, haven't there? I think it's the sudden peace that's boring people. They're making up arbitrary violence to satisfy that boredom."

"Bored by peace… You talk like it's about someone else, but the face you made when you were describing the murder virus begs to differ."

"Ahaha... I do agree that that part of the rumor is certainly nonsense." Florence takes a bite into her steak before continuing. "The murders themselves are true, though."

"You went to investigate them?"

"Yeah, it's what I was working on at headquarters, right before I saw you."

"Huh?" Florence stops eating upon hearing the exaggerated confusion in my voice. "You said you were waiting for me!"

"Ah, I've been busted!" We exchange some laughs before returning to the conversation.

"So, how were they weird?"

"There don't seem to be any motives for any of the murders. It goes beyond impulsive. I mean, even for impulsive homicides, there's still some motive, right? Like a suppressed frustration bursting out." I nod. "But there really doesn't seem to be a reason for the murders."

"Hm, I see. I can't say much since I'd have to first see it all in person. But if it's coming from you, I'm sure it's worth looking into. In the first place, any murder at all is a surprise in this environment. I'm surprised no one's told me about it until now." Florence smiles, seemingly pleased with herself. "Still, to think that the Florence would end up doing all this detective work so diligently."

"Oh, stop! I don't want to hear that from someone who was literally called the White Demon by the Fedyans." I cringe upon hearing the name. I wasn't sure what five year old came up with the nickname in Fedya, but I was relentlessly poked fun at for it.

"Well, I don't think I've gotten as accustomed to this life as you have. I'm completing far less work."

"And you're acting proud of that?" Florence laughs. "I'm just doing my job as a Royal Guard, staying on top of this stuff. And if we manage to find something like this, maybe we could prove show the worth of us Nugatories! Then maybe there wouldn't be a need to cut personnel!"

"Prove we're still needed, huh… You really do sound like a Royal Guard." So naively unrealistic and hopeful— the same adorable Florence as always.

"Watch out, I might be promoted and take your position!"

"Honestly, that might be for the better… but that being said, did you really have to bring up homicides during dinner? I'm going as far as to treat you to this expensive place. There's a thing called a time and place."

"Sorry~" Florence dismisses my comment and cuts into her steak to take a bite, licking the sauce off of her lips afterwards.

"Hey, there's still some left." I take my napkin and slightly stand up, closing enough distance to be able to wipe her face.

"Eh? Ah- Thank you…" Florence looks straight down, with her face turning bright red.

"What're you getting all red for?" She slowly raises her face to look at me, still red and without saying anything. The same feeling as I had when I first saw her today returns, and my heartbeat suddenly rises. "H-huh? Don't get embarrassed over something like that, dumbass..."

"H-hey, it's pretty late, isn't it?" As we leave the restaurant, Florence suddenly raises her voice.

"Yeah. I guess we should both start heading back to our own places." I turn the other way to begin heading back to my house, but before I can begin walking, I'm pulled backwards. I turn back to see Florence holding the tip of my jacket, blushing. Again, a desire feels like it's going to consume me. The same unfamiliar yearning that I had been experiencing today.

"To-today, c-could I… could I go to your place?"

The situation had quickly turned into something I hadn't foreseen. Florence and I were on top of my bed, both of us sitting down awkwardly. The silence is suddenly broken by the sound of fabric rubbing against her skin, and when I glance at Florence, I see her slowly taking her shirt off, looking the other way.

Wh…

In front of my large window granting a full view of the deep blue midnight sky, her half naked body is illuminated by the moonlight, making her seem as though she was almost glowing.

What is this…

Florence turns around to face me, her face still blushing red. Just how many times had I seen her blush today?

What is this feeling?

"Lieutenant…"

What is this feeling in my chest?

"I... told you not to call me that."

What is this emotion?

"The, then…. Caspar…."

What is this that I'm desperately desiring?

Slowly, Florence approaches me.

What is it that I'm feeling for her?

"Caspar…." As she gets even closer, she closes her eyes.

What is it that I want to do with her? What… What is this feeling?

A feeling. A thirst. A desire. It fills my chest. It consumes my mind, allowing me to only think of it, and nothing else. My entire self focuses purely on it, purely on my want for it. I need it. I need to. I can't resist it. I can't help myself anymore. I can't hold it in. I can't hold back this craving in me. I can't. I can't….!

A wet sensation on my wrists takes me back to reality.

"Ca… Cas…."

"Huh? Oh, sorry. I was zoning out for–"

In front of me was Florence. It was undeniably her, no matter how much I would later want to deny it, and no matter how much her posture and expression had changed from just earlier. She sat in front of me, her eyes red and her mouth watering, with her saliva reaching down all the way to my wrists. My wrists, which were placed on her throat. It wasn't until letting go that I realized the amount of force that my wrists were exerting. And just as I let go of her, Florence lifelessly falls backwards onto my bed.

Huh?