Ellianor's eyelids felt heavy. They were heavy not for the task he was asked to fulfill, but rather the weight that came with it.
If his theories were right, if Siegfried was indeed the source of corruption, destroying the coffin that did not reek of corruption would do nothing to stop the corruption.
And destroying his body would do even less. The corrupted corpses remained, even if he could not see them.
Unless his core, if he had one, was in a strange place, it was destroyed by the sword.
Ellianor sighed, as he stared back at the abyss of Siegfried's eyes.
His heart was filled with a strange melancholy, a sadness that could not be placed into words.
He was asked to destroy an infection, but the infection had embedded itself into the patient's body. Even if he died, he was but another vector of infection.
Ellianor lacked the cure to free him, he lacked the means to help Siegfried or free him of that fate.
