Temple. Intensive Care Unit.
Nobody and Chain clicked their tongues as they visited. Their gazes were fixed on Candler, lying on the ICU bed with a dazed expression.
"She really hurt her head."
"And now she can't walk properly either."
"Who told her to lie~ Everything comes back around."
"But still, being alive is something. Tsk, tsk."
Candler had survived.
It was a mystery how she managed to survive in front of that massive explosion, in the middle of the southern plains.
Whether it was the golem sacrificing its life to protect her, or some miracle at work...
But as a result of being caught in the explosion, Candler sustained terrible injuries.
She suffered burns all over her body and severely injured her head. Her legs were burned to the point she couldn't walk properly.
Now, she lay in the ICU bed, only able to breathe in and out as she stared blankly into space.
"..."
"..."
Similarly wrapped in bandages all over, Nobody and Chain looked into Candler's room for a while.
"Get well soon. So we can play poker together in this boring room."
"Yeah. It's boring with just the two of us adults here."
"When you come to, call us! Scream loudly! Got it?"
After throwing out such frivolous remarks, the two mercenaries slowly walked away from the ICU.
The faces of the blind swordsman and the dark magician walking down the corridor were stern.
***
In the ICU next door.
Gulp, gulp!
Kellibey was gulping down liquor straight from the bottle.
His condition, covered in bruises and burns, was not good at all. In front of Kellibey, who kept drinking one bottle after another, Damien pleaded.
"Master Kellibey. You're in such a condition, and still liquor, please... At least, after the treatment is over..."
"Do you think I can be sober right now?"
Kellibey slurred, laying down the empty bottle on the bed carelessly.
"Do you know what it feels like to watch your son ride off on Geronimo to his death?"
"..."
"I got on a lifeboat. Desperate to live. While my son went off to die."
Kellibey flailed his short arms around wildly.
"Do you know what I was thinking when the lifeboat caught in the explosion was thrown about and fell off a cliff?"
"..."
"I thought it was scary. I was scared of dying. And then, as the parachute opened, and the lifeboat landed slowly at the bottom of the cliff... Do you know what I did?"
Damien clenched his eyes shut. Kellibey chewed over and spit out the words he had repeated several times.
"I sighed in relief...! Without realizing it, I was relieved! Relieved that I escaped the explosion that killed my son!"
"...Kellibey."
"What kind of father is this... What kind of father am I..."
Kellibey's eyes, red with bloodshot, fumbled for the empty bottle.
"I'm selfish, only know my own life, an old, stubborn, shameless dwarf. Why was I saved, and my son died."
"..."
"How can someone like me become the next king!"
Kellibey threw the empty bottle towards other dwarves lurking outside the ICU.
Clang-! Glass shards scattered as the dwarves screamed and backed away.
"Get out! All of you, get out before I smash your heads in!"
At Kellibey's bluff, the dwarves hurriedly retreated.
Watching Kellibey gasp for air roughly, Damien also slowly stepped out of the room.
"Rest, Kellibey. Don't think about anything..."
"..."
Finally, in the empty room, Kellibey's trembling hand covered his face.
"What can I do for you, son... It's already too late..."
***
The next day.
West of Crossroad. The graveyard.
Once again, in front of the funeral that had come around, the area was bustling. This was because the number of people who died this time was too many.
"..."
I clenched my mouth tight at the sight.
Many had died or were injured. Over fifty heroes had died, and the number of injured heroes exceeded two hundred.
The casualties among the regular soldiers exceeded a thousand.
During the past three days, I led the reconstruction efforts by day and visited each of them by night, offering condolences to everyone.
But... if merely a commander's condolences could soothe all that sorrow, what sorrow would remain in the world.
The city was still immersed in mourning.
Coffins were covered with national flags, holy water was sprinkled, and choirs sang...
As I blankly watched the chaotic scene of the funeral, someone approached me.
"Prince Ash."
Turning around, the person limping towards me with a cane was none other than the captain of the airship fleet, McMillan.
I nodded my head.
"Captain McMillan. How are you?"
"My personal injuries will heal over time. But the wound I suffered as the fleet admiral might never heal."
The airship fleet was virtually annihilated.
Most of the airships mobilized for this battle had been decommissioned.
The flagship Alcatraz, a symbol of the Empire, had its last dance but ultimately could not escape decommissioning.
"The enemy was an extraordinary monster... But this loss is too great. I will report to the Imperial Family, and I too will receive the appropriate punishment."
"Punishment..."
"The Alcatraz is a flagship symbolizing the Imperial Family. It's only right to be punished for decommissioning such an airship..."
McMillan then somberly put a pipe to his mouth.
"Well, I'm not in a position to say such things in front of Geronimo."
"..."
Geronimo was completely destroyed. There was not even a trace left.
It was at the center of the explosion, completely melted away.
"What will you do now?"
After blowing smoke silently beside me for a moment, McMillan asked. I adjusted my collar and answered.
"What do you mean what will I do? Continue as we have been."
"Continue fighting the monsters, you mean?"
"..."
"From the forward base to the southern walls, all defensive facilities have been destroyed, and the airship fleet is annihilated. The casualties number in the thousands. And those were all casualties among the front-line elite."
I listened quietly. McMillan continued.
"I heard that the black dragon, the next monster to attack, gave you a time reprieve. But that's only a month or two at best. Can you recover from this damage by then?"
"...What are you trying to say, Captain McMillan. Are you suggesting we abandon Crossroad and retreat the front lines?"
"If that's what it takes, wouldn't it be better to do so? If we retreat to the central part of the continent, there are several fortresses of the Empire. Or perhaps even pulling back the troops all the way to New Terra for a perfect response..."
"..."
His point was valid.
However...
"Crossroad is the last line of defense, Captain McMillan. If we fall back from here, we can't predict where the monsters will move next. At the very least, the southern part of the continent will be devastated, and with cunning foes like the black dragon, they might end all the worlds we don't protect."
"..."
"This fortress city is the gateway of humanity. We must die here if we must."
Interrupting McMillan, who seemed to want to add more, I suddenly asked.
"Captain McMillan. If the world were to end tomorrow, what would you do today?"
Taken aback by the unexpected question, McMillan stroked his chin before answering.
"...Well, I suppose I'd lie in bed all day, reading my favorite book and perhaps smoking a cigarette?"
"Is that so."
McMillan asked me as I nodded.
"What about you, Your Highness? If the world were to end tomorrow."
"I'd march in."
"Excuse me?"
"Into the end of the world, I'd march in."
I quietly glared southward.
"And from that so-called end, I'd snatch victory and save the world."
"..."
"That's my plan this time."
"Excuse me?"
"You'll see, so don't worry too much for now."
The schedule had swiftly moved forward. It was almost time for my speech.
"Thank you for your efforts in the battle. We'll talk more later."
After nodding to McMillan, I headed down to the podium.
McMillan looked puzzled but followed behind me.
***
As I took the stage, the gazes of the people tightly focused on me.
Not many were unharmed, and even fewer were unscarred in spirit. Sorrow and wounds filled everyone's faces.
On some faces lingered a chilling rage.
The faces of my heroes who had lost their loved ones were waves of hatred and grudge.
"..."
That too, was a way each coped with their sorrow.
I took a breath and slowly began to speak.
"Today, I'll forego the speeches we've repeated over and over. Instead, today... I want to talk about a miracle."
Scanning the audience, I continued.
"The story of a mercenary named Candler."
The soldiers' attention focused on me. I proceeded.
"This golemancer was terrified of monsters in her first battle. Afterwards, she exaggerated her injuries and retired."
I smiled slightly.
"I don't wish to criticize her for that."
Wanting to run away from an incomprehensible enemy is a feeling anyone can have.
Despite such fear, those who can fight remain soldiers, and those who reach their limit retire.
It's not a matter of being better or worse. It's not a matter of right or wrong.
It's just how things are. Just one of those things in this crazy world we all struggle through.
"But. After that, Candler joined the front lines once again. And she sacrificed herself to save the city."
If she hadn't summoned her golem to carry the giant fly's corpse away.
The city would have been destroyed more terribly than it is now. Maybe we would all be dead.
But what I want to talk about is not the military achievements she made.
It's her heart.
"For someone who fled to her limits to return to fight again is not just one of those things. It's not something that happens everywhere."
I shook my head.
"It's impossible."
Emphasizing again.
"It's a miracle."
The people were looking at me intently. I continued.
"The miracle isn't that she summoned a golem to lift the monster's corpse. The miracle is that she, a regular human being, decided to fight again, risking her life... that's the miracle."
I slowly bowed my head.
"In this battle, there were countless noble sacrifices."
Burnout.
Kellison.
Skuld.
The Insect Busters. And in countless places out of my sight, many people...
Sacrificed their lives for the world.
"What made them throw their lives into the fight?"
Raising my head again, I looked around at the people.
"We are ordinary humans. Compared to those giant monsters, we're really just small beings. It's natural to want to run away. That's instinct. But what exactly allows us to stand our ground and fight here?"
I clenched my fist.
"The heart of a person, fighting against monsters too big and too frightening, is more incomprehensible than any monster. I want to call this human heart a miracle."
"..."
"Everyone here, fighting against the impossible every day and writing down victories, is living within miracles. We live in the midst of miracles."
I raised my voice.
"My people."
Everyone straightened up and looked at me. I continued.
"I hope you remember the miracles you've created. Be proud of these miracles. Do not consider them ordinary. Be aware of the incredible things you are doing."
I looked towards the devastated south of the city.
"The situation is not good. We stand on ruins. But these ruins are protected by the miracles of all of us who participated in this battle."
After giving a faint smile to the people,
"Let's start again on these ruins, believing that there is something here that those monsters can never destroy, something that those who went before us wanted to protect."
I slowly looked at the newly erected graveyard.
The faces of those who had gone passed through my mind.
"..."
Taking a moment to breathe and calm my heart.
In honor of the deceased, I recited the prepared poem. (TL Note: The Author wrote it in English. So this part wasn't translated)
Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate.
***
At the same time.
Lake Kingdom.
In the deepest darkness of Zone 10, at its core lies the origin of darkness - the King's Castle.
"..."
Night Bringer sat on the throne set up in the audience chamber, eyes tightly shut, motionless like a statue.
Long silence flowed in this place shrouded in darkness, and in the audience chamber, frozen as if the world itself had stopped, there was no movement.
How much time had passed in such stillness?
The black dragon slowly opened his eyes. In the settled darkness, his golden eyes lit up as if dawn was breaking through.
Suddenly, a low voice flowed from between the black dragon's parted lips.
It was an old verse often recited by the Demon King, the original master of this place.
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor PLAYER
That struts and frets his hour upon the STAGE
And then is heard no more. It is a TALE
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Life is but a walking shadow,
A mere actor who boasts and panics for a moment on the stage
But soon forgotten.
Life is like a tale
Spouted by a fool, filled with shouting and rage,
***
Signifying NOTHING.
Ultimately meaning nothing.