Chapter 40
Uzushiogakure.
Under the bright sun, Medori, Haruto, and Shōto were walking through a dense forest.
They were a few miles away from the village, and Haruto, who had left the village boundaries for the first time, looked everywhere with burning curiosity.
Medori quietly chuckled at her son's excitement, even if there was nothing in particular to see except for the giant trees. Still, she was happy that she had decided to take him along.
They walked for a few more minutes through the dense foliage before emerging into a clearing, where a few shinobi were stationed around the perimeter.
The guards bowed respectfully, and Shōto gave them a firm nod in return. He stepped in front of a natural rock formation and executed a rapid series of hand signs. The reaction was instantaneous; the rocks dissolved as if they had never been there, and a shimmering fūinjutsu barrier materialized in their place.
With a few precise taps and another series of complex hand signs, the barrier parted to grant them entry.
As they stepped inside, they were met in the distance by two massive blobs of condensing chakra. One was a smaller blue mass, while the other was a deep, dark red.
It was the lingering chakra of the Two-Tails and the Four-Tails, steadily converging on itself to resurrect the fallen Tailed Beasts.
A year ago, Medori had discovered two distinct chakra signatures gathering miles away from the village. She had immediately relayed the information to Kenji, who responded by dispatching several Anbu squads to investigate. That was how they had managed to pinpoint the exact locations where the Tailed Beasts' energies were reforming.
After months of meticulous preparation, and under Shōto and Kenji's strict supervision, they had successfully gathered the scattered chakra masses into this clearing to monitor them closely. This location was now highly secure, guarded by at least one Anbu squad around the clock.
As for why Medori was here today, the chakra had recently begun to mutate, shifting into vibrant blue and crimson hues—the iconic colors of their respective Tailed Beasts. Because of the heavy anti-surveillance seals layering the entire valley, Medori couldn't check on them remotely; she had to come inspect the anomalies herself.
As they stepped closer, Medori noticed various containment seals drawn on the ground beneath the two globes of energy, keeping the spheres suspended a few inches above the dirt.
"So, what do you think? How much time will it take them to fully reform?" Shōto asked, eyeing Haruto closely.
He wanted to see if the boy would manifest any strange reaction to the Tailed Beasts' chakra; that curiosity was the main reason he had permitted Medori to bring a child into a secure zone. However, as he watched, Haruto simply stared at the anomalies with pure, childlike wonder.
Medori finally spoke after a few minutes of careful evaluation.
"Hmm. They are undoubtedly Tailed Beasts, not mere residual chakra. And they are condensing at a steady pace," she said thoughtfully, her left hand still holding Haruto's small fingers. "I would say it will take two to three years for them to fully manifest. That is if we don't interfere with the process, of course."
Shōto began pondering whether they should use fūinjutsu to accelerate or stall the resurrection by altering the ambient chakra.
'I need to discuss this with Kenji and the others,' he thought to himself.
While the two adults were lost in contemplation, Haruto, who had been staring fixedly at the swirling energy, suddenly vanished.
Medori blinked as the comforting warmth of her son's hand slipped from her grasp.
One moment he was right beside her; the next, he was standing directly in front of the blue chakra orb with his mouth stretched wide open.
The massive, compressed mass of the Two-Tails' chakra shrunk exponentially in a vacuum, and—
"Gulp."
—he swallowed the blue sphere whole.
His emerald eyes immediately locked onto the dark red mass of the Four-Tails. The crimson orb visibly shuddered, expanding and contracting as if sensing existential danger. But before the boy could vanish again, vibrant chakra chains shot out from the modern sealing arrays, binding him firmly in mid-air.
"I am getting way too old for this," Shōto groaned. He really should have known better than to let his guard down around this kid.
"Ugh." Haruto struggled against the bindings for a few futile seconds before turning toward Shōto and deploying his ultimate weapon—his puppy-dog eyes. "Please, Uncle Shōto? Can I have that one too?"
The tactic fell completely flat. Shōto simply stared back at him with a deadpan expression.
"Tch." Haruto clicked his tongue. He forgot that his eyes didn't work on the males.
"Why on earth did you do that, Haru?" Shōto asked with a defeated sigh.
"Ehh. It looked… tasty," the boy admitted, a small string of drool escaping the corner of his mouth.
"Now, stay still," Shōto commanded, placing a hand on the shoulder of the boy suspended in mid-air. He pulsed his own energy to check the child's network. Nothing. There wasn't even a single trace of the Two-Tails' malicious chakra left inside his body.
"Haru… what did I tell you about eating strange things off the ground?" Medori finally intervened, her voice carrying a terrifyingly sweet smile that did not reach her eyes.
Haruto swallowed hard, feeling an invisible, suffocating pressure radiating from his mother.
"...Sorry," he muttered meekly, completely averting his gaze.
"It seems I need to start disciplining you for your increasingly reckless behavior."
Now, Haruto was actively sweating. He shot a desperate, pleading look toward Shōto, but the older man completely ignored him, releasing the chakra chains and letting the boy drop to the ground.
Medori let out a soft sigh as she took in his dejected expression. She was incredibly weak against him when he looked that pitiful.
"Sigh... Now, come here. Let me check what kind of trouble you just invited into your stomach."
*****
An unknown location.
In a coastal city, the sun was completely choked out by dark, ominous clouds as rain fell continuously. Dead bodies littered the streets, and blood ran freely down the asphalt as giant tides crept inward, washing over the carnage.
The devastation culminated in a plaza overlooking the open sea.
Strewn across the ground were various discarded weapons—swords, shields, and firearms. A broken umbrella, a lone pirate hat, and a shattered shield etched with intricate clock markings lay scattered alongside the lifeless bodies of their owners.
Standing in the dead center of the ruin was a lone girl with long blonde hair, striking blue eyes, and pointed, elf-like ears.
Cradled tightly in her arms was a tall, fair-skinned woman. She had vibrant blue eyes and lavender hair streaked with light blue accents. Her breathing was shallow, and her eyes fluttered weakly as she whispered.
"Cartethyia… I am sorry. It seems not every situation can be resolved by taking the proper steps at the proper time."
"Cantarella…" Cartethyia wept, squeezing the hand of the dying woman who had sacrificed her own future just to give her one.
She was Cartethyia, also known as Fleurdelys, or the Blessed Maiden by the people of Rinascita.
But she was never the true Blessed Maiden. She was not the maiden of a Sentinel; she was a Threnodian's Resonator—a being formed from lament.
It was only recently that she had regained all her memories and pieced it all together.
She was a Resonator of Leviathan, a calamity capable of manipulating an entire civilization with its ability to merge, assimilate, and influence. It had corrupted and assimilated with the Sentinel Imperator during their very first confrontation, and in doing so, it had selected its vessel: her.
By the time she found out, it was already too late. Yet, she had still pointed her sword toward the divinity she had worshiped all her life.
It was only because a much younger Cantarella had surrendered her own future—forfeiting her second awakening and her only chance to become the true Blessed Maiden to the Sentinel Imperator—that Cartethyia was granted the unique ability to resonate with both the Sentinel and the Threnodian simultaneously.
That was how they had managed to win that first battle and defeat the Leviathan. But they hadn't been able to kill it, not truly. Its nature as a Threnodian kept it fundamentally tied to the twisted beliefs of their entire civilization.
To contain the threat, she had been forced to split herself into two halves, sealing away Fleurdelys while letting Cartethyia wander to find a hero—a savior who could end it all by bringing about her death, the ultimate death of a Threnodian's vessel.
But a hero never came in her story. Instead, she had lost most of her memories in the brutal process of splitting her frequency. In the end, she was forced to fight anyway. She and Cantarella had gathered what remained of their people, preparing to face the horror head-on.
They fought for days against the relentless waves of dark tides and Tacet Discords—monsters twisted by the very concept of lament.
One after another, their allies fell.
Now, only she was left, cradling the true maiden as she died in her arms.
Cantarella finally took her last breath. No knight in shining armor, like the ones Cartethyia had admired in fairy tales, ever came to their rescue.
"Goodbye, my friend. May you finally rest in peace," she whispered, gently closing Cantarella's eyes.
A massive shadow towered over the ruined city once again. Through her tear-streaked eyes, she saw a colossal, murky dark wave approaching at a terrifying speed. All around the plaza, another endless wave of giant Tacet Discords materialized from the gloom.
Within the towering wave, a titanic silhouette shifted.
"Fleurdelys, my Resonator, why dost thou persist? Why abandon thy oath? Why hinder the spread of my gospel? The one blessed by the Dark Tide shall return to us. Continue thy disobedience at the risk of insanity."
The voice echoed, vibrating in her skull with sickening warmth. "My most beloved Resonator... why persist in the error of thy ways?"
She gently laid the body on the ground, stood up, and grasped her crystalline blue sword.
Taking a few steps forward, her body began to transform. A glowing horn jutted from the Tacet Mark on her forehead; she grew in height and stature, her hair deepening to a dark blonde while her eyes shifted from pale blue to a galaxy-blue. Her weapon morphed along with her, enveloped by swirling currents as its hilt turned pitch-black.
Now manifesting as Fleurdelys, she floated a few inches above the ruined earth, pointing her blade directly toward the incoming deluge.
"False Divinity, you shall not have me."
She raised her sword high. Dense resonance energy gathered around the blade as she charged her Resonance Liberation. Above, the storm clouds churned violently; below, the ocean shuddered.
"Oceans, bow before me!"
She unleashed a devastating, concentrated beam of dark energy toward the sea, obliterating everything in its path.
For a few fleeting moments, silence prevailed.
"Fleurdelys! Thou hast chosen. Now, suffer the consequences of thy choice!"
The seas swirled aggressively as Tacet Discords materialized one after another, rushing forward in an endless, monstrous wave.
She zipped across the battlefield, fighting through the onslaught. Relentless waves of enemies kept surging from the depths in a seemingly infinite deluge.
She lost all track of time as she launched one Resonance Liberation after another—unsure if she had been fighting for hours, days, or weeks.
Eventually, she was left floating weakly above the dark, ominous waters. The city had long since been submerged beneath the weight of their apocalyptic clashes.
Suddenly, a colossal maw breached the surface of the sea, swallowing her whole within its pitch-black confines. She tried to resist, but dark tendrils latched onto her limbs, binding her movements and siphoning away her remaining power as they dragged her into the abyss.
"I'm... sorry…" she whispered, remembering her fallen comrades as she plunged into total darkness.
****
In the murky darkness, Fleurdelys lay with her eyes closed on the lap of Cartethyia. Surrounded by dark waters, their strength was slowly being siphoned away, assimilated piece by piece into the Leviathan.
They didn't know how long it had been since they were swallowed. Time was a twisted, meaningless concept inside a Threnodian. But they could feel the reality of it: they were slowly being devoured, destined to become one with the monster.
They were powerless inside the abyss, suffocated by the endless lament.
Suddenly, they heard it—a faint echo at first, but growing clearer and louder with every passing second. It was a cry. The unmistakable cry of an infant. A plea sent out to the universe, to anyone who could help and answer his call.
They both felt it. His raw emotions, his confusion, his dread, and his fear vibrated through the dark as the infant's wails grew louder.
They didn't know what to do. It was impossible for a baby to be present here. It had to be a trap—a cruel ploy deployed by the Leviathan to shatter their remaining resolve and crush their final resistance.
But Cartethyia was the first to move, stepping forward as a faint, gentle light suddenly lit up in the surrounding darkness.
Fleurdelys grabbed Cartethyia's hand, stopping her from reaching out. Cartethyia turned and looked at her. They didn't exchange any words; they didn't need to. They were two halves of the same soul.
Cartethyia smiled, her voice soft but steady. "Our story didn't have a knight in shining armor, Fleurdelys. But maybe we can become one in someone else's life. Even if it's a trap, let's face it together. Remember, you are my strength, and I am your guiding light, your hope. So, will you trust me one last time?"
Fleurdelys's grip tightened, and she forced herself to stand. Whatever waited beyond the light, they would meet it… together.
Suddenly, the entire space began to shake violently, and an enraged voice vibrated through the darkness, threatening to tear their minds apart.
"Fleurdelys!! What art thou doing?! Cease thy futile attempts and accept thy fate!!"
They walked past it, hand in hand, toward the light, toward the child who was crying out for help. Now, hearing the Leviathan's panic, they were certain this was not the creature's doing.
When they finally reached the source, they were enveloped by a soothing, warm presence—an aura so pure it instantly silenced the agonizing whispers of the lament.
With one last look at each other, they reached out their hands together and touched the light.
The next moment, they were gently pulled into it, leaving the darkness of the abyss behind for good.
They were falling through the night sky, a blood-red moon hanging behind them. As they drifted downward, they felt a magnetic pull gently guiding them toward the sound of the crying child.
The very first thing they noticed was the absence of the lament. There was nothing—no ambient grief, no resonance energy, no lingering tacet noise. This was a world completely free from the lament.
Then, they plummeted toward dark clouds that were dumping heavy rain over the earth below.
The moment they pierced the cloud layer, the reality of the landscape struck them: a war zone. People were clashing below, wielding different elements with lethal precision, and carnage stained the earth in every direction.
In the dead center of the conflict lay a village surrounded by high walls that were now barely standing. The entire perimeter had been pulverized into a barren wasteland.
Suddenly, three blinding blurs shot past them, leaving a wake of destruction. A streak of brilliant crimson chased a mass of dark red, while a flash of deep blue brought up the rear. Those three entities alone were reshaping the geography of the land with the sheer force of their battle.
Ignoring the skirmish, the two maidens focused entirely on the village. As they floated down, they passed over dead bodies scattered across the mud—some were clearly armored soldiers, but many others were civilians, instantly recognizable by their vibrant red hair and the lack of armour.
Finally, they reached the exact source of the sound: a heavily fortified compound that lay mostly in ruins.
They halted dead in their tracks when they noticed "her".
The figure sat holding a crying baby in one arm, while "her" other hand rested gently atop a dying woman. "Her" eyes immediately landed on the newcomers. "She" could perceive their spiritual forms perfectly, even though they could not see "her" face clearly—only "her" mouth was visible, curved into a warm, serene smile. "Her" entire form radiated a pure green aura, and she gave them a gentle nod of welcome.
They felt it instantly: they were safe here. They didn't know who or what she was, but they knew she existed far above divinity itself. She was a mother—the very concept of motherhood personified.
Driven by an instinctual reverence, both the maidens bowed in fervent respect; as maidens of a sentinel, paying homage to such a pure existence was a fundamental duty.
"She" shook her head slightly, looking amused, as if watching little children playing a familiar game. Then, "she" looked down at the child cradled in her arm, who was staring up at her with tear-filled, red eyes.
Finally, "she" looked back at the two children who had traveled from so very far away.
"You have—no, you two have suffered greatly, my children."
When Fleurdelys and Cartethyia heard those words, the voice didn't merely come from the "woman". The very winds whispered it, and the earth itself spoke in harmony around them.
"You two did well. I am proud of you both."
Cartethyia broke first, tears flowing incessantly down her cheeks. Beside her, Fleurdelys stilled entirely, her breath catching. It felt as though they were finally being acknowledged by their mother—that someone truly understood they had done their best, even if their world had failed in the end. They were being welcomed into a warm, eternal embrace.
"I will allow you two to stay in my land, allow you to use your powers, and grant you a place within my rules, my laws. In return, protect him," "she" said, gently caressing the infant's crimson hair.
"Her" gaze then drifted down to the dying woman. "These two are my beloved children. One has already suffered more than enough; now, she only desires rest and peace. The other carries a destiny much bigger than his tiny shoulders might be able to bear. So, please... become the strength that never lets him fall, and the light in his loneliest times."
Cartethyia and Fleurdelys both nodded, their heads still bowed with reverence.
"She" smiled once more at their formality. Then, "she" manifested a concentrated sphere of raw power—his own concentrated power.
"A very rudimentary vessel for now," she murmured, "but I hope you two can shape it in due time. The power this vessel holds is immense."
"We will be there for him," Cartethyia declared, her voice filled with determination. "As his knights, his guardians, and his companions."
Then, both maidens were pulled into the vessel, binding their fates to his.
In the next instant, they surged outward in a sudden gust of wind, scattering in all directions as they took command of their element—Aero, a power derived from the very concept of "flow." They flew forth, to fulfill their master's command.
The entity simply smiled at their departure and looked out past the swirling barrier of wind, toward a small figure that was slowly approaching with hesitant steps.
The newcomer was her daughter's daughter—or, in a sense, her own daughter. She sat quietly in the ruins, one hand gently caressing the infant's head and the other resting over the dying woman's wound, patiently waiting.
****
A.N.
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