Just then, it began to rain.
Rather than saying it "fell," it would be more accurate to say it "poured"—a violent downpour.
Yuri briefly lifted his head.
A dark red sky, a dusky land, and a horizon obscured by the black haze of demonic energy.
The only thing visible was the battlefield where he sat collapsed and its immediate surroundings.
There were only corpses.
Shattered bodies were strewn across the battlefield, and rain-soaked field rats gnawed at them.
Nothing else mattered anymore. Yuri lowered his head again.
"…Young Lady."
A woman lay across his knees.
The current head of the House of Salvatore and the master Yuri had devoted his life to serving.
Frey Salvatore.
Yuri reached out with trembling hands to smooth Frey's bangs.
Except for her bluish skin, she looked no different from when she was alive.
"Please wake up, Young Lady."
Yuri leaned over to shield Frey from the falling rain.
"If you sleep on the ground, you'll catch a cold."
After finishing tidying her hair, he clasped Frey's hand in his own.
"See?"
He tried to smile as he had before.
"Your hands are so cold."
Of course, he failed.
"Sleep well, Young Lady."
Yuri decided to accept it.
"…May you rest peacefully, just as you wished."
The fact that the Young Lady had fallen into an eternal slumber.