"Damn it..."
The words slipped out, and Cory quickly covered his mouth.
This wasn't the time to be saying such things.
He leaned in to take another look at the letter. For some reason, its shape gave him a strange sense of familiarity.
It was a character he had never seen before, so why did it feel so familiar?
"Fate..."
As Cory murmured the word, he suddenly looked up.
Everyone had read it that way, but for some reason, Cory felt it wasn't quite right. To pronounce that word properly, he thought, one would need a vocal structure different from that of a human.
Cory kept trying, slightly changing his method of reading each time.
Gradually, the sound began to shape itself into the form he had been seeking.
It wasn't perfect.
But Cory didn't give up and kept repeating it.
At some point, he began to feel a resonance between the meaning, the sound, and the mana. But he still didn't know how to unify them into one.
So he simply spoke, with desperate sincerity.
Fate.
***
Yuri, locked in battle with Gert, suddenly realized that the light blazing in Gert's eyes was beginning to dim. His movements too had slowed.
Yuri looked into the realm of the heart-soul.
A spark was reigniting in the core that had once been reduced to a scorched scar with no flame.
Had Cory succeeded?
But just as waterlogged firewood would not easily catch flame, the core that had already been completely consumed by the power of darkness showed no signs of returning light.
Yuri raised his eyes.
"Gert."
Yuri called his name.
Then, Gert, who had remained silent until now, turned to look at him.
Heat rose again from the character engraved in his core.
"Do you remember what I told you?"
Gert's body was already in shambles.
His skeletal frame was fractured from forcing it to move, with cracks all over, and many parts crumbling into bone dust. The ribs that had once protected his core were now completely shattered, exposing its inside.
Even the brand on the core that Cory had revived was faint.
Shedding a dark crimson glow like a dying ember, Gert spoke to Yuri.
[I, remember.]
"Yes."
[It was, sincere.]
"Of course."
Yuri rested Guilty on his shoulder.
"Everything I said was, I swear, the truth."
It would be great if Gert could come back alive, too. Maybe he could even have a cool skeleton as a friend. Having a Death Knight comrade to stand against the Empire would be reassuring.
But such a future wasn't to be.
Just as Gert's life had failed to conclude as the tale of an honorable knight who triumphed over black magic, this time was no different.
"So, Sir Gert."
Yuri spoke as he looked toward the Devil's Flower, now looming close.
"Leave it to me now."
Gert stared quietly at Yuri.
Then he stepped closer and grabbed Yuri's wrist, guiding it to his own chest.
Yuri, drawn in by him, grasped Gert's core.
It was hot.
And at the same time, cold.
Yuri realized that Gert had fulfilled his promise first.
Over the back of Gert, who now turned away, the image of the rigid knight with his cape billowing overlapped in Yuri's mind.
Back then, too, Gert had been silently walking alone toward the Grand Library.
'Sir Gert, you must retreat for now.'
'It's too dangerous!'
'Fall back first, and then—'
But he never stopped.
The Devil's Flower had already fully rooted itself in the Grand Library. The rumor that it devoured people was no longer just a rumor—it was seducing people outright, mechanically claiming lives.
With each life it consumed, the Devil's Flower grew stronger.
The military attacked it, but only made things worse.
By then, the Devil's Flower had grown so powerful that even seasoned knights were mentally manipulated, walking toward it entranced and offering up their bodies.
The Devil's Flower had become a monster beyond control.
Its pungent fragrance spread across the entire country.
No one could keep their sanity.
Adelvine stood at the edge of destruction.
The king called upon Gert.
The king was preparing for his final battle. Adelvine's last king had not been a sage, but he at least possessed the virtue needed to earn Gert's loyalty.
'Gert, my most loyal knight.'
'Yes, Your Majesty.'
'I give you an order.'
'Yes.'
'I am sorry to give you such an order.'
'Whatever it is, I shall obey without question.'
'Stop those who try to approach the Devil's Flower.'
'They are...'
'You may kill them.'
The king clutched his head.
'That wicked thing must not grow any further. Therefore...'
He stepped down from the throne and helped the kneeling Gert to his feet.
Then, he embraced him.
'If there comes a day I give such an order… will you forgive me?'
His voice was calm. As if he had already accepted his fate.
Gert simply placed a hand over his heart and replied,
'Understood.'
Gert led the knight order to circle the Devil's Flower.
He cut down line after line of approaching humans. Even when someone died right before them, people didn't stop.
The more blood stained his hands, the darker Gert's heart became.
But the strategy worked. Ever since Gert began the slaughter, the Devil's Flower gradually weakened.
Still, he couldn't keep killing forever.
When it was judged that the Devil's Flower had weakened enough, the king of Adelvine led the army to strike it down in the Grand Library.
There was a long battle.
They were defeated.
Gert crawled to the spot where the king had fallen.
His eyes were still blinking.
Gert tried to lift the king, but it was too late. A massive hole had been punched through the king's abdomen.
With his fading gaze, the king whispered to Gert.
'Gert, my most loyal knight...'
'Yes, Your Majesty. It's me.'
'You must stop that thing...'
'Yes.'
'You must stop...'
He could not finish.
Before the king's eyes closed completely, Gert bowed his head and said for the last time,
'Understood.'
The king's head fell.
After the war ended, the same process repeated. The survivors once again walked toward the Devil's Flower, becoming its nourishment.
Even knights who had once endured it with sheer will could resist no longer.
But Gert resisted the temptation.
When he escaped the Grand Library and stood upon the ruins, he suddenly realized he was already dead. His heart had stopped, and his body was rotting. Perhaps it was because he had been exposed to black magic for too long.
But he did not die.
Only one thing kept him moving.
Fate.
Though dead, he who had not died carried out what he had to do.
He killed those who approached the Devil's Flower.
Call it obsession if you will. What moved the knight who had lost everything was nothing but the will to uphold theFate—fate—entrusted to him.
And in the end, he collapsed.
He could no longer maintain his body, nor did he have the will to resist the demonic energy radiating from the Devil's Flower.
Everything had worn away.
But there was one thing he did not forget.
The sight of that day when Adelvine fell, and theFate, the single command given to him just before death.
Stop the Devil's Flower.
Even if it means eradicating all life that approaches it.
He leaned on his sword and tried to rise. But he collapsed. He rose, and collapsed again.
Through it all, he repeated theFatehe had been given over and over again. By now, Gert was no more than a corpse that had lost its form.
Then someone appeared before him.
Crimson scales.
Wide wings.
Golden yellow pupils.
That being spoke.
"You're insane."
It wasn't a human voice. Something about it was different.
"I came just in case, and here I find a madman struggling."
"Life, eradication..."
"Humans are truly clumsy and curious beings."
That being stood there for a long while, observing Gert.
"I see. So that is what drives you. Fate."
"Life, eradication..."
"Very well. I will allow you to guard this land."
And then, a miracle occurred.
Command of Divine Authority: Fate.
His shattered body began to mend.
His broken bones knit together, his rusted sword was reforged, and light returned to the extinguished core. The armor and helmet he had lost long ago reappeared atop his emaciated frame.
And on his core, a single character was engraved.
Gert rose to his feet.
His crumbling body and breaking mind were sustained by the character etched into his core. And what supported that character was a will, closer to obsession, that sprang endlessly from his soul.
He moved again.
He wandered for a long, long time.
He cut down every living being that approached.
So that the Devil's Flower, which had destroyed Adelvine, would starve and never grow again, he endured an eternity of erosion.
And at the end of that time, he met a group of humans.
One of them claimed he could cut down a being tainted by black magic.
It was hard to believe, but Gert no longer had the strength to doubt. Even the miracle granted to him had begun to crumble. What little time remained was running out.
So he demanded an oath.
That human swore without hesitation.
And so, Gert passed his memories to that human, and launched his final assault.
The thread connecting all these events flashed across Yuri's mind in an instant.
"Gert!"
Yuri shouted.
At some point, Gert had begun cutting through every wave of resistance flying at him, charging straight toward the core of the Devil's Flower.
There was no time to reflect on the memories Gert had shared. Yuri grabbed Guilty and followed behind him.
He could see it—Gert burning himself away.
His body was breaking down in real time, and the light was fading from his core. His bones turned to dust and scattered into the air.
But every time it seemed like the end, the character Fate engraved in his core blazed with a dazzling light.
And then he would take one more step forward.
Yuri and the others watched Gert's struggle in a trance, following the path he carved toward the heart of the Devil's Flower.
At its center, there was a massive heart.
With every beat, a blood-like fluid pulsed out in all directions.
Its life force was so vast it seemed greedy.
And, Yuri's eyes saw something more.
A hellscape where the humans devoured by the Devil's Flower had fused together, writhing in torment. Mouths and mouths, eyes and eyes, tangled together in agony.
There were too many lives stacked there for it to be anything else. Layer upon layer, it became nothing more than a pulsating mass of black and red flesh.
Standing before it, Gert turned to look at Yuri.
He had burned his last ember to lead Yuri here.
And now, he was asking.
Can you truly cut this?
Yuri laughed.
Had he known something so absurd was waiting here, he wouldn't have spoken so lightly.
But what could he do?
He had already sworn.
He raised Guilty. Within Yuri's chest, the Heart-Soul Slash raged wildly. Like a mad dog who'd found its mortal enemy, it was desperate to bite, tear, and destroy.
Yuri calmed it.
Now, even Gert's body was starting to dissolve into the heart. The madness and obsession he had accumulated over so many years were becoming nourishment for the Devil's Flower.
If it were left any longer, it would truly become an uncontrollable monster.
Yuri raised Guilty.
The sword hummed and howled.
He felt crushed by the scale of the sorrow before him, by the weight of all the layered souls. And yet, Yuri stepped forward.
"Prince. Any closer, and it'll be dangerous."
Laurent tried to stop him, but Yuri took another step.
Then another.
And another.
Now, Gert was fully absorbed into the heart.
Yuri's eyes turned white.
He saw something else again.
A knight with a cold face, cloaked in rags, knelt on one knee. Then, from within the mass of fused souls—victims of Adelvine—a withered old king raised his head.
The knight bowed his head, and the king placed a hand upon it.
They stayed like that for a long while.
Yuri looked up.
Upon the image of those two, more figures began to emerge. Faces he didn't know.
Faces that cried and laughed, grieved and rejoiced—the entire landscape of Adelvine was contained within them.
What he had to cut down was all of Adelvine.
Too much.
Yuri tightened his grip on Guilty.
All these souls.
All the emotions those souls once held.
So vast that he could hardly bear to look them in the eye.
Toward that vastness—
Yuri swung his sword.
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