Otto raised his hand toward Shamash, emerald light flickering in his eyes.
"Oath."
"Star."
"Flame."
"Sword."
Each word was short and forceful—each reduced to a single syllable.
Because the greatsword of Shamash was less than fifty centimeters from him.
With every word he uttered, his body swayed once. His golden hair grew more translucent.
By the final syllable, the strands hanging before his eyes had turned nearly transparent—gold fading into pale white. His body trembled faintly, as though sheer will alone kept it upright.
Yet he remained standing before her.
Facing the world-devouring blaze.
All simulated weapons took form at once—smaller than their true counterparts.
A holy cross restrained Honkai energy.
A dark crimson sphere increased the gravity crushing down upon Siegfried.
Sword qi from an ancient immortal clashed head-on with Shamash.
And a golden greatsword—hurled by a pale arm—shot toward the berserk man, wrapped in flames.
Golden radiance streaked across the battlefield, momentarily suppressing even the sky-reaching scarlet inferno.
"As expected of the Key of Destruction…"
Otto shook his head faintly. He did not place much faith in momentary brilliance.
He was proven right almost instantly.
Simulated Oath of Judah collapsed beneath the surging Honkai energy like a hastily built dam swept away by floodwaters.
Simulated Star of Eden hindered Siegfried's movement—but could not halt Shamash's godlike advance.
Simulated Taixu Sword Qi and Simulated Shamash collided in succession with the crimson blade—
Without altering its trajectory in the slightest.
One by one, Otto's constructed weapons shattered.
Shamash continued forward.
"For Kallen's sake…"
Otto sighed softly.
Then he turned to look at Cecilia.
His face was pale as paper. Blood slipped uncontrollably from the corner of his lips.
But he was smiling.
That same gentle smile—like an older brother soothing his sister after she had strayed into darkness, using warmth to disguise an unkind world.
"See you at headquarters."
He said it lightly.
Then he stepped forward—
And grabbed the blade of Shamash with his bare hand.
The sword finally slowed.
At the cost of Otto's body.
The blazing edge advanced inch by inch, devouring his arm. Wherever it passed, flesh and bone vanished.
Yet the curve of his lips deepened—mocking Siegfried's frenzied eyes.
The blade burst through his back.
Flames consumed his body.
He did not change expression, as though it were someone else being incinerated.
"Do you remember what I said, Siegfried Kaslana?"
He stepped forward again, pressing his remaining hand against the sword's hilt.
"Lay a hand on Cecilia—regardless of reason—and Shamash will be confiscated."
A metallic crack resounded.
Siegfried howled like a beast.
His wrist snapped.
Shamash was torn from his grasp.
The sword ceased its advance.
The flames gradually dimmed—
But the tribulation fire upon Otto's body burned on.
"What a mess. Attacked by Divine Keys twice now—after Seven Thunders of Retribution."
He stroked the hilt of Shamash within the flames.
"Next time, I should disable the pain receptors in the soulium body."
The pain receptors… were active?
Cecilia's eyes widened.
So he had truly—
Fully—
Taken an attack that even the Herrscher of the Void would hesitate to block.
Didn't it hurt?
She remembered his words after the Second Honkai—how he had feared the power capable of "combing the Earth's middle parting."
And now—
For her—
He had endured it head-on.
Everything but death.
The pain was real.
"What have I done to deserve this…?"
Her hand flew to her lips.
Tears fell in heavy drops.
She tried to rush forward to extinguish the flames—but a transparent barrier had formed before her.
He had even erected a defense for her—despite not knowing whether he himself could survive.
Holding back the inferno outside that boundary.
Even if it meant his entire body burned.
"Siegfried Kaslana."
Otto finally spoke again.
Cecilia could hear the weakness in his voice.
His remaining arm—still aflame—lifted.
Shamash rested in his grasp.
"I do not know your reason. Nor do I need to."
"I only need to do what aligns with my will."
A few minutes earlier, she might have tried to stop him.
Might have pleaded softly.
Now—
She only wished his consciousness would exit this body sooner.
To spare him even a few seconds of agony.
She had once saved Siegfried—defying Otto for it.
Yet he had caused her daughter to fall from ten thousand meters in the past.
And now—
He had nearly killed her with Shamash.
She owed him nothing.
After that strike—
Their bond was severed.
If Otto ordered her to kill him now—
She might hesitate a few seconds.
Then obey.
But Otto would never make her stain her own honor.
He never would.
Otto coughed.
A golden cross materialized slowly—binding Siegfried to the ground.
The once-mighty wielder of Shamash struggled wildly, eyes blazing.
But that final strike had drained him.
Using Shamash while injured had scorched his language centers.
Only broken, rasping sounds escaped his throat.
He glanced toward Cecilia.
For one fleeting moment—
He had hoped it truly was her.
But seeing her unmoving expression—
He knew.
Swinging that sword had been right.
The eyes he once loved so deeply held not a trace of affection.
You deserve this.
That was what he saw.
The enraged never reflect.
They assign blame.
Even when wrong, they stand tall—venting without restraint.
Human weakness.
Siegfried had always been stubborn.
As a youth, he had fled Schicksal over an anime obsession—never realizing his freedom was bought by his mother's pleas to Otto.
And now—
Godlike power amplified his bias.
He did not reflect on the wounds he had inflicted.
He only concluded—
That the woman who did not stand against Otto for him—
Was not his Cecilia.
He did not realize—
That the moment he swung that blade—
She was no longer his.
—
Otto raised Shamash—
Now split into twin pistols.
"One bullet is enough."
Just as he was about to fire—
A dark-purple cross struck from the side.
The binding shattered.
"Grandpa! Stop! Don't hurt Siegfried!"
Otto staggered.
The flames vanished from the blade.
He looked at the small white-haired girl rushing toward him.
Understanding flickered in his eyes.
"As you see," he said weakly, "he tried to kill me. I defended myself."
"Don't joke!" Theresa shouted. "You have countless revival methods!"
Otto looked at her.
His emerald eyes were cold.
"I am strong—so he may hurt me?"
"I indulge you—so you may overstep?"
The cross she wielded suddenly turned—
Binding her instead.
"I bear my sins," Otto said quietly, flames still licking at his body.
"I will carry them."
"I am the one killing him, Theresa. You cannot stop me."
He raised the twin pistols.
And then—
Black light blossomed above Siegfried.
Purple patterns spiraled.
He vanished.
"Finally… heh…"
Otto lowered his arm.
A flicker of satisfaction crossed his eyes—
Then faded.
He turned toward Cecilia.
The pistols traced a weak arc, landing before her.
"Take it back."
He smiled.
"Go home early."
Then—
His burning body collapsed.
Dissolving into liquid soulium.
Devoured by fire.
The barrier vanished.
Cecilia rushed forward—
Ignoring flames catching her clothes.
Searching—
But nothing remained.
Not even liquid.
It had seeped into the earth.
"Grandpa… has many bodies," Theresa said softly.
Cecilia did not answer.
She knelt there for a long time.
Then she rose.
Picked up the crimson pistols.
And walked away.
Still crying.
But radiating absolute calm.
Theresa froze.
For a moment—
Cecilia's expression was identical to Otto's.
—
Elsewhere.
A golden-haired figure staggered in the forest.
Rita supported him.
"Archbishop, please ensure your safety. Schicksal needs you."
"Safety?" Otto scoffed. "Compared to playing chess with a god, this was nothing."
He did not mention that in that game—
He had been the toy.
"Lady Durandal nearly rushed out," Rita smiled. "Fortunately, Fu Hua stopped her."
Otto glanced at Durandal.
The girl's eyes were filled with worry.
"Archbishop… your consciousness is intact?"
"Oh? Growing up, are we?" he teased faintly.
"Still here. Burn once, gain a Divine Key. Worth it."
"Otto."
Fu Hua stepped forward.
"Your plan… is too extreme."
"When have I not been extreme?" he laughed softly.
"Do you pity him?"
"I know misplaced mercy breeds disaster," she replied.
"Good."
Then—
Space twisted.
He stepped to the forest's edge.
And placed a hand on a man's shoulder.
"Long time no see."
His smile now held no pretense.
No concealment.
Even his eyes—dulled from pain—burned with ambition.
"With you," he said softly.
"My target… has always been you, Welt Yang."
Chapter 56: St. Freya — The Unsheathing of Shamash
"So this is Theresa's St. Freya Academy? The architectural style feels… strangely familiar."
"Mmm… I built it."
"???"
Cecilia and Otto strolled through the grounds of St. Freya Academy, chatting casually.
It was the second day of the new year. Under little Goose's reluctant gaze, the two had arrived empty-handed at this place—said to embody Cecilia's final wish.
Ironically, every brick and beam of this academy had been funded and overseen by Otto. Only after its completion had Theresa arrived to complain that it looked like a medieval aristocratic institute.
Independent, huh?
Otto exhaled softly, his emerald eyes calm.
The plot was a tool.
Characters were tools.
Emotions born of tools were meaningless. One had to weigh gains and losses, calculate benefits, exercise restraint.
He should respond to the people before him according to the present situation—not with the arrogance and prejudice of a past observer.
He was Otto.
Otto who no longer clung to Kallen.
Unfounded indulgence had no place. Irrational impulses had no place.
He regarded everything equally.
Because… all of it could be actors upon his stage.
In his eyes, most people possessed only two measures: intrinsic value and utility value. The former referred to their personal ability to generate benefit for him; the latter, the benefit gained after using them.
That way, he would harbor neither expectation nor disappointment. No unnecessary noise. No sorrow at being misunderstood. No pain at being struck down. No unprepared betrayals. No existential despair.
Peaceful, in its own way.
Loneliness was humanity's fate. If one did not demand, one suffered less. Every gain was deliberate and intentional—no less joyful for that.
Besides—
Theresa had considerable utility value.
Excellent. A good granddaughter.
He would continue doting on her.
With slightly fewer privileges.
"I must say, Cecilia," Otto clicked his tongue as he spotted a student attempting to climb the wall to skip class, "if this is the educational philosophy you envisioned… I'm rather disappointed. I recall little Goose once attended here as well—though she soon withdrew and returned to Schicksal."
Cecilia had intended to defend Theresa, but hearing both Otto and Durandal's implicit disapproval, she could only smile awkwardly.
"Ha… well, perhaps it gives the girls a better memory—to fight for the beauty of the world."
"Ah, my dear girl." Otto looked at her helplessly. "False beauty is poison. A little poison may craft sweet dreams. But taken in excess, it ends life."
"The world, from the level of genes onward, is survival of the fittest. It is neither fair nor beautiful."
"…"
Cecilia frowned, thinking carefully.
"Do you remember what I told you in Staffordshire?" Otto continued. "When you had lost your memories, I wanted you to grow well. I wanted you to cherish your life. I wanted you to live freely by your own will. That's why I made you fight the undead—even if I had to guard you from the sidelines."
"I did not help you. I even criticized you when you did well. That was for you, Cecilia. Until you could protect yourself, no one could guarantee your future."
"Only with power can one make choices. That was true for you—and it's even more true for these teenage girls."
"St. Freya's ideals inherit from your past self. Back then, I taught you strength and neglected your growth, only allowing you to see the outside world after 1985."
"That's why you found it dazzling—and why you wish other Valkyries to experience beauty before stepping onto the battlefield."
"But the battlefield will not spare you because you lacked ordinary happiness. It will bare its fangs because you indulged in youth when you should have been sharpening steel."
"You are warriors—the ones who witness cruelty most directly. If Valkyries only realize, upon entering war, that Schicksal is not a school and the Honkai is not St. Freya's harmless skirmishes—that is true cruelty."
"You experienced the Second Honkai. You should understand this better than anyone."
"…You're right." Cecilia lowered her gaze—only for Otto to flick her forehead lightly.
"I didn't say you were wrong."
She let out a soft cry.
"I'm not telling you that you erred, nor that Theresa erred."
"My dear girl, what you must refine is perspective and vision—not sincerity and kindness."
"…Mm."
She stepped closer, listening intently.
"I will be your strongest shield. But I do not need you to become the next me."
"You have the right to your ideals. But while holding onto beauty, these children also have the right to know the truth of the world."
"Education should guide them—so that even after knowing the cruelty ahead, they still love this flawed world with hope."
"Beauty is a human feeling. It resides in the heart."
"I understand." Cecilia bowed her head slightly.
"Of course, when it comes to you…" Otto glanced toward a nearby bush with a faint smile, "I do hope you retain a little selfishness."
"Just as you don't wish little Goose to inherit the Kaslana name—I do not wish to see your name on a casualty list."
He tapped her brow.
"Do not love this world blindly. You are not allowed to throw your life away."
"But I am a Valkyrie, Archbishop."
Her eyes shimmered.
"To fight for the beauty of the world—if even an S-rank Valkyrie cannot uphold that, who will believe in Schicksal's creed?"
"Relax. With me here, you will not fall into a dilemma of saving others or saving yourself."
Otto met her gaze.
"But I want you to carry at least one obsession—to live."
"You are first yourself. Then anyone else's."
"You must remember," he said quietly, "you have long been my anchor to this world. A very important one."
They stood close enough for her to catch the faint scent of his cologne.
"Otto Apocalypse has no affection for this world," he continued. "He has held the Archbishop's seat for five hundred years for Kallen Kaslana, for Theresa Apocalypse—for those he cares about."
"And now, that includes you, dear little sister."
For some reason, this time when she heard Kallen's name, Cecilia felt a faint discomfort. Her cheeks puffed slightly.
"My future will be a battlefield of smoke and schemes. Coincidences planned in advance. Fates engineered. Laws overturned. Lies that enrage gods."
"I sincerely hope… that when that time comes, you will stand beside me."
They looked at one another for a long moment.
Then Cecilia smiled, radiant beyond measure.
"I am your Black Abyss White Flower, after all."
"And I look forward to my beloved little lance fighting at my side."
He tucked her hair behind her ear. She straightened his collar.
Warmth lingered between them.
—
"AAAAAAHHHHH—!"
The bush beside them erupted in flames.
A red-eyed man leapt forth, greatsword blazing!
Cecilia turned—
"Siegfried?!"
—
Elsewhere.
Void Archives' voice echoed softly in an empty room.
"You miscalculated one thing—we are allies."
"If you could solve everything without me, the alliance would cease to exist…"
She gazed down at the slumbering Siegfried Kaslana.
"You are mine, little Otto."
Golden light shimmered at her fingertips.
"I grant you an arm—steel-clad, fireproof."
Metal fused with Siegfried's body, forming a mechanical limb.
"I grant you will—renewed vitality."
A lance tapped his forehead; his breath steadied.
"I grant you killing intent—surpass your limits."
A golden feather dissolved into his mind.
"Mr. Chess Piece," she whispered in his ear, "you heard that Cecilia has appeared… that there are Cecilia clones beneath St. Freya."
"You seek truth."
"And thin-hearted men prosper, while those who beg for love are ground to ash."
Siegfried's eyes snapped open—bloodshot.
—
Back at St. Freya—
Siegfried charged like a berserk Honkai beast.
Cecilia dodged the first strike—but he turned instantly, swinging again.
"What's wrong with him?" Otto asked, leaping beside her and handing her a lance.
"I don't know!"
Siegfried roared and slammed into the ground, flames bursting outward.
They split apart.
Cecilia's ankle—injured days ago—slowed her half a beat.
Half a beat too slow.
The weapon in Siegfried's hand—
Shamash.
The strongest Divine Key in destructive power.
"Crack!"
The superheated blade descended—
Her lance vaporized.
"Haah!"
Siegfried raised the blazing greatsword high.
"Shamash—UNSHEATHE!"
Under calculated coincidences, under woven fate—
The blade meant to protect the beloved now turned upon the beloved.
Perhaps destiny was never sacred—only arranged.
Cecilia staggered as her weapon shattered.
The inferno filled her vision.
She closed her eyes.
So this is how it ends.
Killed by the man she once saved.
How ironic.
Her silver hair fluttered like a curtain falling.
"Shamash… is not easy to block."
A sigh sounded beside her.
A powerful force shoved her backward.
Cecilia opened her eyes—
Otto stood before her.
Facing the world-splitting blade.
Just as during the Second Honkai—
When he had raised Black Abyss White Flower high against the northern sky.
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