"Oh, you're finally here," Saki's voice was as sharp and cold as the morning air. She stood in the doorway, her arms crossed as she watched Luka finally return.
"Where have you been? Did you sleep somewhere else?"
Luka barely spared her a glance as he brushed past, his movements stiff and purposeful. Without missing a beat, he grabbed her hand. "Come with me."
Saki's eyes narrowed at his sudden boldness, but as she looked him over, a sharp concern settled in her chest. His face was drawn, the bags under his eyes heavier than she remembered. There was a weariness about him, the kind that only came from lack of sleep—or worse. She noticed the way he moved: sluggish, almost like he hadn't rested at all.
"I'm glad you got your jacket back and everything but…" she remarked, her gaze taking in his features. "Where did you get that glove?" she asked, her eyes locked on his left hand.
Luka didn't respond immediately, his eyes focused on the path ahead. He walked without pause, his grip on her hand tight but not harsh. "She left it in the cell. I went back to get my things. Found it there."
In truth, it had been carefully placed on the desk with a note attached to it.
"She?" Saki echoed with concern.
"You'll understand soon," Luka sighed as he dragged her outside and headed towards the place.
With growing dread gnawing at her, Saki followed him into the slums. The streets were unnervingly quiet, save for a few succubi loitering in the shadows, their movements sluggish from hunger or despair.
"Where are we going?" she asked, her voice tight.
"You'll see," he replied curtly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
The sounds of shouting, laughter, and clapping echoed in the distance, drawing their attention. As they approached, the familiar sight of the central gathering place came into view. A crowd of succubi was gathered in a large circle, their voices raised in joyous shouts and playful laughter.
In the middle of it, the nameless succubus in her usual white coat was standing on the platform. The small runestones floating in the air formed a circle.
The scene felt surreal to Saki, like a strange dream, and her unease only deepened. She couldn't help but feel that something monumental was about to happen—something that might change everything.
Luka carefully walked around the crowd and they finally found themselves behind the platform, right next to the queen who was sitting there on her throne.
"Glad to see you could come," she said as she saw the duo arrive. "Your assistance in perfecting this spell has been most invaluable. Today, we solve the plight of our kind."
"The pleasure is mine, Your Majesty," Luka replied, a thin smile curling his lips.
Saki flinched as his grip on her hand became painful. She shot him a worried glance, but he didn't look at her.
The queen rose from her throne, her voice booming as she addressed the gathered succubi. "Today marks the dawn of a new era! No longer shall we be slaves to hunger! No longer shall we wither in the shadow of despair!"
Saki, her heart racing, turned to Luka. "Luka, what's happening? Is it already over?"
A snicker left Lukas's mouth as cheers erupted from the crowd, a deafening roar of approval. The runestones surrounding the caster flared brighter, the spell nearing completion.
Luka didn't immediately respond. His eyes were fixed on the platform, his gaze intense but unreadable. After a long moment, he nodded slightly, the faintest hint of resignation in his expression.
Saki's chest tightened as the intricate circle above the city shimmered into view. Her heart raced, the sight dredging up memories she had long buried.
"L-Luka…" she stammered, her voice trembling.
The runestones around the nameless succubus began to glow brighter as she carefully worked the spell. The sky soon turned brighter as an intricate circle appeared above the city.
"This is the beginning of a new era," the queen declared, her voice booming. "Our kind shall no longer be shackled here in the Ark!"
The air crackled with a tense energy that made Saki's skin prickle. She had seen magic before, but this… this was different. The magic that pulsed through the runestones felt similar. Too similar to what happened two years ago.
"L-Luka…?" Saki trembled slightly, as panic rose in her.
She knew that spell.
He didn't respond immediately, his eyes locked on the platform. A faint snicker escaped his lips, but it didn't sound like the Luka she knew. It sounded cold, bitter even. The crowd roared with excitement, but Saki's heart felt heavy with every passing second. She could sense the tension in the air, and she could see the hunger in the eyes of those gathered around them.
They were hungry and they were finally about to gain satiety.
The caster spoke the incantation in a low, steady voice, her glasses falling down on her nose as her expression remained emotionless.
She was too tired, and she knew what was to come.
In this land, she was given no name, no aliases, as no other succubi even cared about them. They were not humans, nor were they capable of change.
In truth, they couldn't be more different than humans. It was that fundamental difference that changed everything for her. She hated them. Hated this city. Still, she had her sisters to protect.
That's why, it's the last thing she will ever do.
Deep inside her, she knew it was already over, but a flicker of hope remained. All that was left was his decision.
The circle shimmered, the spell about to break loose.
The queen stood, her lips curling into a smug grin. She turned her gaze to Luka, her confidence radiating off her like heat. This fool, she thought, he had no idea what he had worked for.
But her grin faltered when her eyes fell on what he held in his hand.
A talisman.
The queen's smugness melted into alarm.
It's okay to be a monster. It's okay to mourn. It's okay to be angry.
Because this place couldn't be more fake.
"Balweiln."
The word slipped from Luka's lips like a curse.
A single blade of wind cut through the air, slicing with deadly precision.
His hand clenched Saki's tighter than ever, almost painfully, as the spell shattered into sparks.
The caster froze mid-chant, her voice cut short as the wind blade struck her in the back. A gush of blood spilled from her, soaking the pristine white of her coat. The magical energy she had summoned dissolved into harmless embers, dissipating into the air.
The crowd's jubilation faltered, confusion spreading like wildfire. The nameless succubus crumpled to the ground, her body trembling as she gasped for air, her hands reaching for the wound that had nearly split her open.
Saki's heart stopped for a moment, her breath caught in her throat as the scene unfolded before her eyes.
But before the murmurs of confusion could rise into panic, Luka raised another talisman.
"Echo."
A voice—eerily similar to the queen's—rang out, its tone imperious and disdainful.
"This spell belongs only to the Nightlords! Did you really think peasants like you could wield such power?"
The crowd turned toward the queen, their eyes wide with confusion and betrayal.
"Ahaha! We shall keep that spell for ourselves and use it to wipe out the Dreamweavers for good!"
The queen's face went pale, her eyes darting across the sea of angered faces.
"I-I didn't say—" she stammered, but it was too late.
The Dreamweavers' fury boiled over, years of resentment erupting in an instant. The crowd surged toward the platform, their roars a cacophony of rage and desperation.
The Nightlords on the platform moved to contain the mob, their practiced discipline and magic holding the chaos at bay for now.
The queen whirled toward Luka, panic etched into her features. "You—are you the one who—?"
Her accusation was cut short as explosions echoed across the city. One after another, they lit up the skyline, the tremors shaking the ground beneath them. Smoke billowed into the sky, and the sound of collapsing structures mingled with screams.
Saki stood still, realization dawning over her.
Ah… Now I get it.
He was aware of the spell, of its effects. When did he realize? she thought. That this spell was meant to enslave humanity itself. Similar to the grand scale spell Zaran used two years ago to sacrifice all of Sora to kill Kaeris, this one was meant to enslave all of the Sora for the benefit of succubi.
A large-scale charm spell, that no man could break.
And Luka had stopped it.
As the explosions spread, they consumed everything in their wake. Buildings collapsed one after another, their falling rubble disappearing into clouds of dust. Screams and cries for help rang out, swallowed by the deafening roar of chaos.
On the platform, talismans planted beforehand detonated, catching the crowd in bursts of fire and shrapnel. The Dreamweavers recoiled, their rage turning to confusion as panic rippled through their ranks.
The queen stumbled backward, her movements frantic, her grandeur stripped away. She tripped on the edge of her throne and fell to her knees at Luka's feet.
Her wide, terrified eyes met his.
Time seemed to slow.
"Why?" she choked out, her voice trembling. "Why are you doing this?"
Luka's gaze was cold, unyielding. He didn't answer her question. Instead, he raised his gloved hand, pointing a single finger at her.
"Esfleto."
A small pebble, propelled by fire, shot forward with deadly precision. It struck the queen's skull with a sickening crack, burying itself deep.
Her body jerked once before crumpling lifelessly to the ground.
"Let's go."
In the end, that was the only thing he could do. Spending the whole night, preparing each talisman carefully while making no sound, camouflaging them with other talismans that rendered an area invisible.
A carefully planned attack to eradicate one thousand succubi in a day.
And every step, every street he came across, it was the same thing. Aiming at a running, helpless creature, shooting, and moving on.
Saki did nothing. No sound came out of her throat, no plea, no warning, nothing. If Luka wasn't holding her hand, he wouldn't even realize she was there.
Shoot. Move on. Shoot. Move on.
The pattern repeated over and over, unbroken.
How many succubi did he kill? It didn't matter. As long as there was one left, he would keep searching. Some offered resistance, but amidst the crumbled buildings, the upheaved land, the smoke, and thanks to his glove…
It was no problem.
The city burned until it returned to ash, just like the land they inhabited. This place was desolate before their arrival and would become desolate once again.
A succubus darted out from the shadows, her wings tattered and her face streaked with soot. Her eyes widened in fear as Luka turned toward her, his hand already raised.
"Please!" she begged, her voice cracking. "I—I didn't do anything! I just—"
The spell struck her head before she could finish, the fire consuming her as she crumpled to the ground.
"That was the last one," Luka breathed out slowly as he took in the scenery.
He surveyed the remains of the Soliminium Vale—a city now reduced to ash and rubble. The acrid stench of smoke mingled with the metallic tang of blood, and the distant sound of crumbling structures punctuated the silence.
It was a hard work that paid off. Now, the threat they posed to humanity was gone.
Victory, he had told himself. This was what victory looked like. Yet, as his gaze swept over the destruction, an inexplicable tightness coiled in his chest.
And then he saw her.
Among the ruins, she stood.
Her glasses were shattered, the frame barely clinging to her face. Her once-pristine white coat was torn, its fabric stained with soot, ash, and blood.
Yet, somehow, she stood.
She was clutching her side, her hand trembling slightly. Each step she took was small and deliberate, the effort etched into her face.
She walked toward him.
And so he did. Matching her pace, her walked toward her, the tightening in his chest unbearable.
Leaping over the crumbled remains of buildings and weaving through the destruction, he ran as fast as his legs could carry him. His gloves scraped against jagged edges, his boots kicked up clouds of soot, but he didn't care.
All that mattered was reaching her.
He wanted to call out, to say something—anything—but the words never came.
Because, of course, she bore no name. She never had one.
Her steps faltered, her body swaying slightly as she turned her head toward him. Her lips curved into a faint, almost serene smile. It wasn't a smile of joy or relief but one of quiet acceptance, as though she had known this moment would come.
Her eyes softened, meeting his one final time.
And then they closed.
She took one last step forward—light, fragile, as if gravity itself was too much to bear—before collapsing.
Luka's outstretched hands caught her just before she hit the ground, his knees slamming into the rubble as he cradled her limp body.
Her weight pressed against him, lighter than he remembered. She had stopped breathing, and the only thing moving was her long hair, fluttering gently in the wind. Yet, her smile remained, unmoving, etched into her lifeless face.
This was their defeat. Humanity had won.
This is probably what she would have wanted to say.
Luka held her close, his head bowed, the tightness in his chest now a hollow ache that refused to leave.
Without another word, he stood, carrying her in his arms. Her fragile form seemed smaller now, as if she were disappearing into the world she had fought to protect.
He remembered a place—a single sanctuary mentioned in her book, one she had written about with rare wonder. A place she visited frequently.
Far from the city, far from the Vale, it lay hidden: a flowerbed of violet blooms nestled within a small cave.
It was one of the few peaceful places left in this ashen world.
When Luka arrived, the sight of the flowers swaying softly in the wind stirred something deep within him. Among the blooms stood two simple tombs, carved into the stone, blank and unmarked. They bore no names, no words, only their silence.
And so he dug a third tomb between them, his hands steady despite the weariness that clung to his bones. The soil yielded to his efforts, and when it was done, he lowered her into the ground with the same care he had shown in carrying her.
Luka knelt before the three graves, his head bowed, the ache in his chest now an unbearable weight. He had no words to offer, no prayers to give. Only silence.
Saki's footsteps echoed behind him.
"Why didn't you kill me?" Luka's voice came out cracked as he knelt there, looking at the tomb.
"Why should I?" Saki replied, her voice softer than ever. She stood a few meters away, her shadow covering him. "That spell was going to enslave everyone back in Sora, you knew that."
"I could have only stopped the spell and gone on with my life."
"You know that's not true," Saki sighed. "They would have either tried to get revenge or found another way to recreate the spell."
"Then why didn't you stop me?"
She knelt beside him, her gaze quiet and knowing, like someone who had seen this all before. Her eyes met his, and in them, there was an answer he hadn't expected.
"There are many reasons," she said softly. "But that's not what you want to hear right now, is it?"
Luka's eyes remained locked on the tombstones, the earth now settled over her resting place, the silence between them becoming suffocating. His breath hitched in his chest as his hands tightened into fists at his sides.
Then, out of nowhere, he picked up a piece of wood and etched a small stone at the end of it. After a few minutes of working, he aimed it at the stone he placed in lieu of a tombstone and started graving it.
Using his reinforced fists as a hammer, he picked the stone, inch by inch. The wood splintered slightly as he carved, his knuckles raw from the constant pressure. He focused on the task at hand, the rhythm of the strikes grounding him in something tangible, something he could control, even if everything else in his world felt like it was slipping through his fingers.
As the name began to take shape, a familiar pang shot through him, like a reminder of something he had tried to bury.
Luka paused, his breath coming out in shaky gasps as the final stroke of his fist settled into the stone. His eyes flicked over the word now etched into the surface—a single name.
Violet
It was arrogant to even consider naming her now. Hell, it felt disgusting even to him. What right did he have to name her? She had never asked for it, never needed it.
But he wanted to do it. No, he needed to do it.
Because she was the only one who ever understood him.
Saki didn't speak for a long time, and Luka didn't expect her to. There was nothing left to say.
He finally stood up, his body feeling heavier than before. His eyes never left the stone, the name he had carved into it—an act that felt both revulsing and relieving.
Saki remained beside him, unmoving. She didn't speak, but her presence was undeniable. The steady pulse of her quiet breath was the only sound that filled the space, the wind outside rustling through the flowers, as if nature itself was waiting for him to do something. But what was left to do? What could he say? How could he justify this?
Finally, as if he had reached a conclusion, he turned toward her and for the first time this day, looked at her.
"You look like shit," Saki sighed. "And I'm going to be blunt here—nothing, no one, is going to fix what you've done. You have to bear this yourself."
Luka barely reacted. I know that already, he thought. No need to tell me.
"There's no one who will console you, or absolve you," she continued, her face serious. "You're a murderer, and that fact will never change."
Luka simply stared at her, knowing there was no need to argue here. After all, why argue what was true?
"You did what you had to do, that's it," she finished, her face softening.
"I know."
"Good," Saki smiled. "I was scared you would laugh."
Is she serious right now?
"Huh… Not that I thought you would, of course," Saki took a step back, sensing the shift in Luka's mood. Her face morphed into something apologetic.
The look he gave her made her flinch, a shiver running down her spine.
Luka ignored her sudden change in demeanor. "Anyway," he muttered, stepping out of the cave. "We have things to do."
"Again? Don't you want to rest for a bit?" Saki called after him, her voice edged with concern.
Stop being stupid, if I rest now I'll break.
"We're going back to Dreikheim," he said, his tone firm, unwavering. "I need to see something with my own two eyes."
Saki frowned, confusion flickering across her features. "Dreikheim? Why?"
Luka paused, his gaze distant as he stared into the horizon.
Everything that was written down in her notebook. Her whole life. If what she wrote was true…
Then his perception of this world would change forever.