The princess was busy — especially so on the night before war. There were no rousing speeches, no morale-boosting gatherings. If it had been Felix in charge, he would have surely stirred the crowd with passionate words. But Theresa was not that kind of person.
That night, countless Sarkaz mercenaries sat quietly around campfires. No one spoke much. They simply gazed at the night sky — some faces solemn, others smiling faintly. The air was calm, peaceful, and filled with the silent gravity of what was to come.
Theresa was moving through the crowd, clasping the hands of her soldiers and exchanging quiet words with them. Around her stood several mercenaries with expressions of deep respect — W among them.
When she noticed Felix, she paused. In truth, it was difficult not to notice him. Ever since his evolution, he had become almost too radiant, his very presence drawing the eye. The light and purity that surrounded him carried a warmth that made people unconsciously want to draw closer.
The surrounding mercenaries nodded politely in acknowledgment. As soldiers of Babel, they naturally knew of Tomorrow's Development — and the man who led it. Some of the older Sarkaz, veterans who had once fought against the Sankta, found it deeply ironic. Their feelings toward Felix were a tangled mix of curiosity and confusion.
A Sankta who bore no hatred toward the Sarkaz — it was strange. Yet they couldn't deny the truth: Babel's steady flow of supplies in recent battles was due largely to Tomorrow's Development.
"Why are you here?"
The sharp, confrontational voice came from beside him. Felix turned his head, drawing his gaze back from the horizon. Standing there, leaning against a railing, was the red-horned woman in mercenary uniform.
"I wanted to talk to Her Highness," he said lightly.
"Her Highness is busy."
"I don't mind waiting."
"You—!" W lowered her voice, glaring. "Don't take me for an idiot. What are you really planning?"
"To talk about life. About ideals. And most importantly… about the future."
The tone he used made W grit her teeth — the kind of tone one used with a child. Just like Hoederer or Ines always used with her. She wasn't a kid anymore!
"And you, W?" Felix asked softly, eyes returning to her. "Is there nothing you want to do?"
"Whatever Her Highness wants to do — that's what I want to do."
"Is that so? You really do care about Her Highness."
Felix chuckled.
"You're laughing again!" W's face flushed, and she stepped forward, ready to punch him.
Felix gently caught her hand and gave her a small, amused glance. "I wasn't mocking you. I think it's admirable."
"To devote yourself to someone — to follow their path with unwavering faith, believing in the future they envision… I believe many mercenaries, not just the Sarkaz, share the same conviction as you."
W pressed her lips together. Being praised by someone she didn't like made her heart feel strangely warm — and that just made her more irritated.
"Admiration," Felix continued softly, "is the strongest force there is."
He released her hand. "Sometimes, admiration can make people surpass their limits in moments of crisis. Do you know why?"
"Why?" she asked before she could stop herself.
"Because the one they admire is always in their heart. When danger comes, their thoughts turn instinctively toward that person — and that thought alone gives them strength. That's why admiration is so powerful."
W stared at Felix's side profile. For the first time, she found his light almost blinding — dazzling enough that she had to look away. She forced her voice to sound casual. "What about you, then?"
"What about me?"
"What do you want to do?"
Felix sighed softly. "I never had anyone to admire. At first, all I wanted was to become stronger, to earn more money — because I knew Laterano wasn't my home. I was destined to walk this land."
"Then, I met people. Important ones. Friends. Comrades who fought beside me — who trusted me with their lives. My goal changed. I wanted to make their future brighter… and to give them a place where they could be safe. That's how Tomorrow's Development began. Sounds a bit boring, doesn't it?"
W caught the faint nostalgic smile on his lips and snorted. "Yeah, pretty much."
"But later, I came to know the Infected… and the Sarkaz." Felix smiled faintly. "To me, they're no different from anyone else. Maybe our races carry old grudges — but I don't judge people by that."
"I don't measure someone's worth by their race or their scars. You're Sarkaz, I'm Sankta — does that stop us from talking here right now?"
He reached out and patted her head lightly. "To me, you're just a normal girl. Not some terrifying 'demon' soldier."
W stumbled back a few steps, her face red with anger and embarrassment. "Don't think I'm letting you touch me again!"
"Alright, alright," Felix said with a shrug. "Hoederer told me young girls who need comfort usually like that."
Theresa approached them with her usual gentle grace, a soft smile on her lips.
"Forgive me," she said, her voice carrying easily over the quiet campfire crackle. "Am I interrupting your conversation?"
Felix shook his head. "Not at all. W and I were just finishing up. If you don't mind, I'd like to speak with you — just for a few minutes. I promise I won't take up too much of your time."
"Hmm… then let's go to the deck," she suggested.
"Alright."
Theresa offered W a kind smile and then walked off with Felix.
W's crimson eyes followed Theresa's retreating figure until she disappeared into the darkness. She leaned against the railing, which groaned under her weight with a creak. Slowly, she lifted her hand and brushed the spot Felix had touched earlier. Her expression flickered — confusion, irritation, something else she didn't quite understand. Then she huffed loudly.
"Ugh… still so damn annoying!"
---
"For tomorrow's final battle," Felix began, his brow furrowed, "I won't try to comfort you with empty words. But, Theresa… are you sure you'll be alright on your own?"
After hearing her plan, he couldn't hide his concern. Babel would be deploying nearly all of its forces — the soldiers left behind to guard the main base were less than a tenth of their usual number. He couldn't shake the unease that someone might strike their undefended home while they fought at the front.
Theresa covered her mouth with a light laugh. "Rhodes Island's security measures are very thorough. But thank you for worrying about me. I'll be fine… besides, I'll be fighting too."
"Theresa, can you really handle an assassination squad alone?"
"I'll… do my best."
"This isn't about trying! It's about your safety!" Felix's voice rose despite himself.
Theresa's smile softened, touched with sadness. "Felix, I can feel your anxiety… Tell me, what happened?"
How could he tell her? That he couldn't bear the thought of her dying to some meaningless twist of fate. That he didn't want Babel to fall, or for Theresa's name to vanish from the world.
Felix opened his mouth to speak, but Theresa gently took his hand in both of hers. Her fingers traced the calluses on his palm with quiet tenderness.
"I can feel it," she whispered. "The fire in your heart. The sorrow, the longing… and something else — a reluctance to part. Felix, are you planning to say goodbye to me?"
"No… I'm not."
He exhaled slowly. "I'm just… worried about tomorrow. Your Highness, are you truly sure you'll be safe aboard Rhodes Island?"
"Don't worry," she said lightly. "The Doctor will be by my side. And besides — Babel isn't leaving everything behind."
Theresa smiled and tugged his hand gently. "Come with me. I want to show you something — the flowers."
"Flowers? Here, on this barren land?"
Her smile only deepened as she said nothing. She lifted him with her Arts, and together they descended from the deck, landing softly on the dusty ground.
They walked through the moonlit wasteland until they reached a small hill nestled against Babel's hull.
And there — beneath the faint starlight — bloomed a field of strange, luminous flowers.
"How curious…" Felix murmured, crouching down. "These aren't any known species. A new discovery, perhaps?"
Thanks to Muelsyse, he had learned a fair bit about botany. He gently touched one of the petals, only to feel an unfamiliar texture beneath his fingertips.
"They're formed from Originium," Theresa said quietly.
"What—? Originium?!"
Theresa smiled faintly and lifted her skirt slightly as she twirled gracefully among the blossoms. "Originium holds countless mysteries — even the ancestors of Kazdel never fully uncovered its secrets. If only… every corner of this barren land could bloom like this someday."
Flowers blooming on this blasted land? Felix couldn't help but laugh. How impossibly romantic… how beautifully absurd.
But perhaps that was Theresa's true charm — the ability to dream even in desolation. Who could ever refuse such a smile?
As she danced before him, her movements elegant and solemn, Felix recognized the rhythm — the ancient Sarkaz dance, a song of remembrance for the fallen, a farewell to warriors before their final march, and a prayer for courage toward the future.
He watched for a long, long time — committing every motion, every glimmer of her expression to memory.
Thankfully, if the first plan failed… he still had a contingency plan.
"Thank you, Felix. Because of your help, the Sarkaz people can finally live the lives they've always dreamed of. On their behalf, I offer you my gratitude… And if your worries ever come true, I hope that the one who leads the Sarkaz into the future will be you."
"Shouldn't that be your brother, Theresis?"
"Theresis has already chosen a path from which there is no return. And so have I. We're like light and shadow, black and white… but you, Felix—you're the color that exists between them, the shade of gray that connects both sides. As long as you're here, Kazdel will only continue to grow stronger."
"I don't want to hear you say things like that."
Theresa smiled—perhaps her most genuine smile yet. She took Felix's hand and whispered softly,
"Then dance with me."
"As you wish."
Felix gazed at her gentle smile, and within that moment, he made his decision.
---
The next morning, after a full night's rest, Felix awoke in high spirits. He immediately began checking through his skills and equipment. Since his promotion to Machinist, he had gained a new ability—[Mech Energy Burst]—which had a three-minute cooldown and boosted all mechanical equipment's performance for thirty seconds, scaling with his Intelligence stat. In numbers, it roughly tripled his combat efficiency.
A thirty-second burst every three minutes—other professions had similar abilities, but few could wield them with the same precision Felix had mastered.
He equipped his combat gear: the exosuit, the Gemini's Oath Blades strapped to his back, the Lumen pistol sheathed at his waist, and his AI familiar—now cloaked by an invisibility module—floating by his side. High above Babel, at least fifty stealth drones patrolled the skies, scanning the surroundings.
"Everyone ready?"
When Felix entered the living area, the rest of the group was already suited up. His gaze swept over Hoederer and Ines, and he frowned slightly.
"Do all mercenaries' gear look this outdated?"
"Hey, boss, that's a bit harsh," Hoederer replied with a chuckle. "It's not like we have the luxury to buy replacements."
He shrugged. "Most Sarkaz mercenaries use whatever they can scavenge off their fallen enemies."
Ines shot him a glare, but Hoederer could only lift his hands helplessly. Facts were facts.
Felix sighed lightly. "As payment for putting up with my reckless plans, I'll have Tomorrow's Development produce a standard-issue combat suit for both of you. Ines, since you're already an employee, you can request upgrades anytime through the terminal."
"Much appreciated, boss," Hoederer grinned. "Maybe I should just join Tomorrow's Development too. Once this battle's done, I'm heading home to teach anyway—working for you doesn't sound bad."
Felix turned to Mudrock, the silent mercenary whose demeanor often made it hard to guess their gender or thoughts.
"Mudrock, after this battle, I'll introduce you to Ulšulah. If you wish, you can also join Tomorrow's Development."
Mudrock was silent for a long moment, then gave a slow, firm nod. Perhaps this was the first time they had truly been given direction. Joining Tomorrow's Development… might not be such a bad idea.
As for Jesselton, Felix didn't say anything. He didn't need to. Jesselton stood tall behind him, ever steadfast. Between the two, words like "thanks" or "loyalty" were unnecessary—his devotion had already been given in full. Even if the road ahead was nothing but fire and blades, Jesselton Williams only wanted to know one thing: could that fire withstand his three punches?
---
"Let's go."
They stepped into the wide corridor leading to the freight elevators. The place was packed with mercenaries—crowded, yet not chaotic. Each carried their weapon with quiet resolve, lining up in order to depart from Babel.
Felix looked up and saw Theresa standing atop a high platform, watching every mercenary she remembered by name as they marched forward toward what would likely be their final battle. Her hands were clasped tightly to her chest, offering a heartfelt blessing to every Sarkaz warrior heading to war.
Some of the mercenaries' eyes reddened. A few laughed and joked to mask their fear. Others bowed deeply toward her. Some turned away quickly to hide their tears.
She was an ordinary girl.
She was a Sarkaz king.
She was the queen in the hearts of the Sarkaz.
The final battle—had begun.