Arknights story · Episode 14: Absolved Will Be the Seekers
14-10 From the Light
The warship carrying the Stone of the Sword, the Gloriana, is besieged by the Sarkaz. To preserve the glimmer of victory, Siege, assisted by her companions, charges towards the Gloriana with Realmblade in hand.
2 scenes, 507 lines
1. Before Operation
327 linesAll hands, you are not to change your route without authorization. Pass through the Gastrell's covering bombardment area posthaste.
Cover the General's return to the ship!
Shells rain down on both sides of the mobile force that is moving at full speed. Smoke obscures their whereabouts, and withering artillery fire crushes the Sarkaz troops collapsing upon them.
Wait, two hundred meters ahead – I found something strange belonging to those Nachzehrers!
The aura emanating from that throne... seems to be letting those damn devils to replenish their ranks faster.
They're closing in fast... They're trying to intercept us!
General, do we need the flank guard to continue the diversion–
No.
Commander, we're––
Run them over. *cough*...
Yessir!
(Labored gasps)
Amidst the smoke, silent figures in white robes raise their longswords, sundering the artillery fire falling upon them.
They disappear into the plumes of smoke and dust kicked up by the explosions.
—
Prepare to intercept the enemy. Five, four, three, two––
Don't disappoint me––
One!
—!
The skies... are raining fire––
Not all death is alike, Sarkaz.
Purple flames wreathe the Duke of Wellington's entire mobile unit, and a rising pillar of flames carves out a completely safe domain on the battlefield—
A sanctuary brought by the flames of death.
You've more than proven your trustworthiness, Lady Eblana.
And I, too, admire your duel against death.
However, your injuries are still severe, and the Nachzehrer's deathly aura still eats away at your body.
Your uniform may hide your injuries, but not from me.
...
Take my hand, Your Grace. You should not be riding these rickety vehicles.
Allow me to personally escort you back to the Gastrell.
It's just a flesh wound.
The Duke who overcame death ignores the Draco's outstretched hand, his body remaining upright with the help of his cane.
Pain?
Little more than that.
...
Lady Eblana, your flames still burn a bit too hot.
Make an opening in this wall of flame, and I will lead the way.
Don't worry. This cane has accompanied me through more dreadful battlefields.
I will stand atop the Gastrell's bow and await Victoria's call for help.
As you wish, my ever-faithful lord.
If your body can no longer sustain your ambition, then I shall rekindle your heart with flames.
Even death shall be no obstacle for your march forward.
We are Tara. We shall stand upon the most glorious place in this land––
Together, we shall set this battlefield alight.
'Warning, warning––'
'Damage to the hull is in excess of sixty-five percent. Navigation system offline. Propulsion system offline...'
'Activate backup power supply.'
'The engine room has been damaged, and there's a serious leakage of Originium fuel.'
'At 2:34, the Frederick was struck by three witchcraft shells simultaneously, paralyzing its propulsion system.'
'The combat zone is heavily contaminated by witchcraft. The three supporting frigates are unable to approach, and currently dispatching infantry––'
'The second defensive line has incurred a fierce assault! The 9th Battalion Armored Corps is currently holding back the Nachzehrer infantry. Lieutenant Colonel Blake and Major Mourning have been slain. Captain Seymour is currently in command.'
'The Excelsior has discovered an approaching squad of Nachzehrer casters! We've lost contact with the Intrepid, with no specific coordinates identified...'
'Duke Gododdin's three dreadnoughts are approaching full-speed to provide support. Duke Abercorn and Duke Ashworth's assault battlegroups are also responding to the call for help!'
'Originium activity is so rampant that it's off the charts! What the hell is that? Is the Originium eating our ship?!'
...
Your Grace, the situation is changing extremely quickly.
The surviving Trilby Ashers have already been sent out, and the news they've brought back has been compiled here.
...
Our men are dying out there, and the Nachzehrers are turning the entire battlefield into a meat grinder.
*cough*... How many of us are still left?
Less than a third.
Your Grace should retreat.
Our flagship still retains its defensive capabilities. Even in this condition, it should at least be able to clear a way back for you.
I can't leave.
Aileen, spread the word that I will be staying on the Glory. Use whatever means you have at your disposal.
—!
If I abandon the front line, the defensive line will inevitably be routed. Victory will be yet another step further away from Victoria.
What would the other soldiers think of us? That yet another duke has abandoned them?
When this battle is over, our soldiers must also remember – what price I paid for this victory.
...
I will continue to draw the Nachzehrers' fire. The other dukes will surely come to my aid.
They understand exactly what is and is not important at this current moment.
Besides, my elite forces are all here. You are all the support I need.
Nothing more needs to be said–
Watch out, Your Grace!
Hmph. We'll start by clearing out this cabin.
Our march towards victory begins from this stronghold.
Your Grace...
*sigh* As you command. Then, we must get our hands on the Sighs of Kings.
The Stone of the Sword is still here, undamaged. That is our best opportunity for a counterattack.
...
Is the Trilby Asher who's been in contact with our lovely Vina still alive?
Our communication channels are back online now.
Excellent. Get in touch with him.
I have new orders for him.
'There's no end to them...'
'Shells... Where are the shells? Clark!'
'...Dead. They're all dead––'
'Vina, I've rescued another soldier!'
'The enemy line up ahead is going to be hard to handle. Are you sure you want to keep pushing forward?'
'Activating the Realmblade is the best option we have for turning the tides of this battle. We've already come this far – and this is something only we can do!'
'Who... are you?'
'We're the Exemplars.'
*cough* *cough*... The Exemplars?
Use your head, soldier. Don't charge right up to the enemy.
So much blood... Oripathy. And the suppressants... Damn it, we ran out a while ago.
Hang in there a bit longer, and don't move. There's a chance the Originium crystals puncture your lungs.
It doesn't matter anymore.
What?
Doctor... Sir, just about all our men are dead.
Clark was the second to last one. See that hand over there by your feet? That's all that's left of him.
What can I do?
...Your name.
Patel. Richard Patel.
Private Patel, from your badge, I see you were assigned to the 9th Battalion Armored Corps and your commanding officer is Lieutenant Colonel Blake.
If I recall correctly, your company's mission is to protect Duke Caster's flagship.
Who are you? Which unit are you from?
Delphine. From the Exemplars.
I'm just like you... I despise those enemies. They took everything from me.
But, I still remember my mission. I'm here to aid you, Private Patel.
Aid me?
Duke Windermere is dead. I don't know if our esteemed duke is still with us.
And then, there's the Iron Duke... That bloody codger, Wellington! He deserted the battlefield!
What are you people even doing here? What hope do we have for victory?!
Delphine subconsciously glances over at Vina, who stands not far away with the Sighs of Kings strapped to her back.
...Even if the Grand Dukes give up, we will not.
Is that so...?
He's... not going to last much longer.
Shit, hurry up and spread out! He could implode at any moment – we won't have time to deal with him!
Delphine sees the soldier's bloodshot eyes... There's determination and desire burning within them.
Listen up, Exemplars. There's a contingent of Nachzehrers up ahead.
Put me... into that tank over there.
...
Wait, Delphine! Don't go near him, I can handle this––
Thank you...
The battered tank hurtles towards the Sarkaz troops.
Many of the Exemplars had no idea what was going on, until they heard... the one last battle cry an ordinary soldier gave using his life.
We will record all you've accomplished here today.
Each and every member of the Duke of Caster's 9th Battalion Armored Corps was a good soldier, ready to defend the Gloriana and Victoria herself with their lives.
Wait, what's going on? The dead are standing up?
No, no... It's not the dead that are standing. They're...
Withered branches.
Twigs sprout from the fallen bodies of the Nachzehrer warriors, extending in every direction, burrowing back towards the fog where the scent of rot and decay is strongest.
A figure rises from the fog and quickly approaches.
Get back, Delphine!
(Dull growl)
Urgh... Luckily, it'll take more than that to kill me off.
If we die here, our lives will get sucked up by the Nachzehrer altars, and we'll turn into their food.
Does that mean... Private Patel's last wish was in vain? If these enemies cannot even be defeated by death...
No, Delphine. He was able to slay this squad of Nachzehrers.
However––
That monster's clearly weakened, and trying to feed off death. Take advantage of this opportunity and destroy the target!
I'll cover you! Bagpipe, mark my flank!
Private Patel's wish will not be in vain. We'll charge out through the opening he created.
Everyone, move it!
...
Don't hesitate. Slow down for a second, and the whole situation might spiral out of control.
...
What are you still standing there for?
You... Don't tell me, you're choosing now of all times to get cold feet?
Getting cold feet? No, I just need to stay behind for the time being to fulfill my duty.
Your Highness, Alexandrina, please don't glare at me like that. I really do have urgent business to attend to.
The Duke has just given me her latest orders––
The deal is off. You are to evacuate with the Sighs of Kings, and await her further instructions.
...
You will not be able to reach the Stone of the Sword, and this 'key' must not fall into Sarkaz hands.
If necessary, 'special measures' can be employed to ensure the safety of the Sighs of Kings.
How did I see this coming.
There's no need to be so wary of me. I have been completely forthcoming when it comes to the Duke's orders.
I know you're loathe to abandon your quest for the Stone of the Sword, but...
Count me in.
Huh?
My highest priority remains to ensure the safety of the Duke.
*sigh* But at a time like this, where am I supposed to find allies more trustworthy than the Exemplars?
Your duke's not going to be happy with your decision.
Would you look at that, we've already switched sides.
Look at it this way – I'm outnumbered here, and I don't have any way of dealing with all of you.
Go, Your Royal Highness. I hope your plan is a complete one.
Don't worry. My dear aunt won't have anything to worry about... I know what I have to do.
Vina's plans are never complicated, and that has proven surprisingly effective on this chaotic battlefield.
Everyone in the Exemplars knows exactly what they're fighting for.
Now matter how the war forces them apart, in the end, those who survive will gather to lift the glass of victory.
'The plan is straightforward – Delphine, you're in charge of commanding from the periphery and pinning down the Sarkaz laying siege to the Gloriana.'
'Chip away at them, and avoid direct engagements.'
Can you still walk?
I... don't think so...
Then, grab onto my back.
I've moved you to safety... Well, there's nowhere's that's safe anymore.
But let's get behind that piece of the destroyed warship. Hide behind there for the time being.
Don't worry about us... Right now, urgh... the Sighs of Kings takes the highest priority!
Don't be daft.
Vina's team knows what to do with the Sighs of Kings. Our mission right now is to contain the enemy and siphon off some of their firepower.
Lieutenant, I need medical assistance over here!
Roger!
Fitz, where are you from?
Eastham... *cough*––
I've been there before. They've got good leather.
There's an open wound on the leg with visible puncturing. Stop the bleeding first. Do you have pain anywhere else other than the wound?
No, I'm just... a bit tired, that's all...
Do you have anyone on your mind right now, Fitz?!
Barry... from across the street. He still owes me–
Don't say it. Just keep repeating it in your heart. Just repeat it to yourself over and over!
Then, go back home alive and tell him yourself!
The patient is conscious and has no fractures, internal bleeding, or acute infection.
Alright, the wound has been cleaned. I will now bandage it and apply anti-inflammatories. He should be fine with some rest.
You did well, Delphine.
Lieutenant, do you ever think about wanting to rewind time to the day our ship was raided?
If we can win, sure.
I'm of the same mind.
Because of my mistakes, my incompetence... we were miserably defeated by the Sarkaz.
I don't want that to happen again today.
Lieutenant, please take Fitz back. I'm still needed here.
'What about us, Vina?'
'Travel lightly, quickly break through the encirclement, and go for the pedestal. Horn, Bagpipe, we're counting on you to cover our flank!'
'You heard that, Hannah, Morgan, Dagda? We're gonna charge forward and never look back!'
'Sounds like we're rushing straight into a fight for our lives! I'm getting excited already!'
'Shut it already, Hannah!'
This bunker's not gonna hold!
Where's the location of the next bunker?
The Strange Man in the Hat's already found it for us. Keep your eyes peeled for his signal!
Those soldiers up there are Caster's guards! We're almost there!
The bombardment is thinning out! Delphine's forces have managed to draw away a large chunk of their firepower!
I can see the pedestal clearly now– Get down!
Hold on! That attack just now wasn't from the Sarkaz!
Captain, it's the Gloriana!
The Gloriana has noticed us.
Its guns are clearing the way for us!
Pounce on to it! Press onward!
They continue to charge into the tempest, to where the artillery fire converges, to where their enemies are.
Hammer smashes into bone, and sword cleaves through flesh.
Those standing shoulder-to-shoulder are getting heavier injuries, yet they no longer bother to wipe the blood from their faces.
They continue pressing forward. No matter how perilous, they never stop.
The Gloriana is right there in front of them, and Vina can already hear the roar of battle coming from above.
Hold out a bit longer. We're about to break through–
'(Indistinct Sarkaz language) You shall...'
'(Indistinct Sarkaz language) ...not pass.'
What's... going on...
I've lost all sensation... in the arm holding my hammer...
'Vina!'
'The Sighs of Kings! The Sighs of Kings has been knocked flying! After it––'
The Sigh... of Kings? That's... the sword? But I... had it on my back...
'(Indistinct Sarkaz language) Death...'
'(Indistinct Sarkaz language) ...the final end'
'Damnit! Vina, stand up!'
'Help her! Bagpipe, cover my back! I need to reload!'
'I can block their blades! Bloody hell, why can't I run any faster?!'
A dark shadow... Something... is approaching me...
'Vina!!!'
'Victoria...'
'Victoria!'
'Victoria!!'
Vina could never forget that voice, even if she can on longer make out all the information it contains.
But, her intuition tells her... that it is a name. A name that is associated with her entire life.
The ground shatters, and along with it, three mobile altars.
White vapor erupts, and a fiery red blade emerges.
Look – a Steam Knight!
A Steam Knight stands with us!
Victoria's glory has returned, and he stands with us!
Follow him into battle!
Slay them! Slay every last Sarkaz!
'Glooooory–– to Victoria!!!'
(Muffled gushing sound)
Slash. Pierce. Charge.
The suit of armor fights valiantly, and ferociously.
The path behind him is soon littered with Sarkaz corpses and the fragments of shattered altars.
Witchcraft missiles fall at his feet, crossbow bolts fly towards him, blades slash at his body.
But, he never stops. He cleaves apart the next enemy, sweeping them away, along with any traces they left on him.
That's right. We saw him inside the city.
But why... is he here now?
He came... for the sword...
Vina!
I see the Sighs of Kings! It's lying atop of a pile of bodies in the combat zone. I'll retrieve it for you.
Just as you said – pounce on to it, and press onward. Don't look back.
I promise you that the sword will appear when it is needed.
...
Vina...
I will keep going. Cover me.
She clenches the hammer in her hands, shrugging off all doubt and hesitation.
She has placed her trust not just in her partners, but also in people who she had never trusted before... No, she placed her trust in all of Victoria.
The Victoria she believes in.
Run. Faster. Almost there...
Argh—!
The mobile altar...
Vina, we're connected with the Duke of Fife's suit of armor! We've also located Captain Seymour – he's still alive! More troops are on their way to join us!
We'll handle all those altar that are flying around!
We've used up the last of our ammunition. That means... it'll come down to some good old CQC.
Roger that, Captain!
Pretty nostalgic, right? Reminds me of our academy days.
Let's see how these Sarkaz like our technique.
Let them try... to get past us.
The Stone of the Sword is right ahead, but that corrosive fog...
Your Royal Highness, my colleagues have secured the Gloriana.
*cough*... The next time our cooperation is needed, the Exemplars will hear from this Trilby once more.
Finally, allow me to use my Originium Arts... as well as a little bit of authority, to light your way.
A ray of green light cuts through the dense fog of decay.
Deep within the storm, the Stone of the Sword radiates with light.
Oh right, the sword...
After thinking things through, one really should not disobey a duke's orders––
But I also made a promise to Your Royal Highness. That's quite a pickle.
Alright, then. Catch!
A silver light streaks across the battlefield, piercing through the fog.
The Sighs of Kings. A blade so common that it does not attract the attention of soldiers on either side of the battlefield––
Dun worry about me, Captain! Go with them!
The storm rises from the battlefield, but the White Wolf has already leapt up.
Aim, fire. A procedure she knows by heart.
Take it, Siege!
The longsword left her hand, cutting through the air as countless eyes followed its path.
Vina never looks back. She simply continues running, carefully listening to every last sound.
Swoosh.
The sound of metal vibrating through the air. The sound of air being cut apart by a sharp object.
She forcefully throws down the hammer in her hands. Its massive head lodges into the cliffside, creating a tiny foothold for her.
She steps on it, and leaps. And when she extends her hand, the Sighs of Kings has already found its way into her palm.
Indra, Morgan, remember how we used to chuck Molotov cocktails down the chimneys of the nobles?
Yeah, we'd stand on each other's shoulders!
But this time, I'll be running ahead first.
The Originium beneath her feet feel like alive, unlike any wall or mountain she's ever traversed before.
How much farther?
How much longer will it be until the dark clouds disperse, and the war draws its last breath?
She fled Londinium to the land beyond its walls; then from there, she returned. How much farther must she go... before she returns to her peaceful homeland, and to the people she loves?
Vina does not know. But at least, the Stone of the Sword is right before her eyes. She extricates her hammer with all her might.
She knows what she must do.
She leaps up, hammer and sword held high in her hands, glimmering in the sunlight.
2. After Operation
180 linesA legend is bestowed by the people.
The 'miracle' you hold already existed before Lugalszargus and I met.
In the depths of the golden sands, explorers who should've been devoured by Catastrophes found safe haven because of this relic.
The relic was forged into a treasured blade, and I carried it along with the young Shah into the endless sands.
I still remember what he said as he rested against my mane beneath the stars––
'It shall have a name, but that name is not mine to give.'
Then, as legends go, he took up the blade and slew the Poltergeist King.
He never returned. Nobody in the land was worthy of giving that sword a name, but a legend was nevertheless born.
The Hero's sword.
It passed through the hands of many kings, until at long last, the Lion with hair as bright as the sun used it to sever the Red Dragon's head.
That story, you're already familiar with, Vina.
Beneath the gleaming blade, the Lion and Dragon ultimately stood side by side and swore an oath to lift the crown together.
Alas, the Hero's sword would slay no more, but would instead be regarded as 'the highest authority'.
It has endured loss and betrayal, yet its brilliance as the symbol of authority has never dimmed.
As Lugalszargus said, you have all sung of it from generation to generation using the name it was given – the Sighs of Kings.
No matter how many times it is reforged, craftsmen will always be able to hear the sighs from within the sword.
They say that it is the kings sighing, lamenting that the glorious empire no longer has enemies worth conquering.
But, it was never the kings who were sighing, but rather the blade itself – a 'miracle' dug out from the golden sands more than a millennium ago. Still, they had the right to give meaning to this sword.
Vina, legends are never told by the heroes themselves.
But, you continued its story. Perhaps in twenty years, the children will sing...
'Alexandrina, the Sword of Victoria, the king who banished the Sarkaz tyrant!'
But, is this the story you want to hear? And, by whose right do you wield this sword?
The king's? The hero's? The peoples'?
(Gawain...)
Got you, Vina!
You did it, Vina...
The enemy forces encircling the Gloriana are retreating before the dukes' forces!
Vina, hang in there! We'll catch up to you soon enough.
The other dukes' troops have heard news of the Duke of Caster, and are now willing to work together with the Exemplars.
At least, this is settled before the fighting engulfed Londinium.
Waves of cheering pour through the communicator, each louder than the last.
But the battle continues.
The Sighs of Kings is sheathed within the Stone of the Sword. This is not the end, but merely a beginning.
The Steam Knight... is helping us?
No, I'd say he only came for the Realmblade.
Siege's gaze falls on the devastated battlefield, where the Steam Knight went on its warpath.
She looks for the other shadow, but it is nowhere to be found.
Siege grips her hammer tightly and stands before her companions, just like she had done so many times before.
The Realmblade is now active.
Looking up from here, that golden pillar of light is truly breathtaking.
Two decades ago, I first saw the prototype of our Stone of the Sword in the workshop. I have been waiting for this moment ever since.
The light that sunders Catastrophe is no longer a myth, or a heroic tale in alleyways.
Can you envision it? Beneath the shade of this light, our people will no longer need to live in fear of Catastrophe. Our city... will be eternally glorious.
Back then, nobody could have imagined that it would ever be used for this purpose.
That it would be used in a war started by those barbaric devils, in a ravaged land outside Londinium's gates.
And... it was done by the hands of my dear brother's orphan, with the aid of the Exemplars.
For decades, the pedestal has been integral to our strategy in Victoria. What should have become Caster's triumph is now a part of the legacy of the former king's heirs.
Your Grace, we are sorry for betraying your expectations––
You call it betrayal?
...No.
'The Gloriana was saved, and Victoria was saved.'
What is there for me to be disappointed about?
'The miracle blooming on the battlefield.' I can even hear my own guards whispering these words.
I believe your 'Sir Suffolk' would share the same opinion, no?
The Poet should be acting in accordance with military protocol and retreating with the Realmblade. I will make sure of this––
There's no rush. Whether this is a dereliction of duty or a show of loyalty, I shall decide for myself later.
What's happened has happened, there's no need to worry about the Realmblade's fate for now.
At least, this isn't necessarily a bad thing either.
Connect to the Exemplars' internal communication channel. Use the alliance line.
Your Grace, there's a risk of being tapped.
Talk less and do your job.
Very well.
Uhh, whose communication frequency is this? I didn't turn it on––
Well done, Exemplars.
Well, stuff me?!
Your Grace... I thought you'd at least want to meet me in person.
Indeed. Arrangements for that meeting have already been made.
But, after the Realmblade's activation, all intel on the battlefield flowed to me once again.
Opportunities on the battlefield are fleeting, and I was too preoccupied to make use of it.
Siege, what you have accomplished is nothing short of a miracle.
I will reevaluate the role that the Exemplars could play in this war.
With all due respect, I do not recall opening our communication channels to you.
As of right now, assume your channels are open to all of Victoria's alliance forces.
They will begin their counterattack by retaking Silverrock Bluffs. Are the Exemplars willing to work with us to create a miracle?
Under the banner of the dukes?
No. The Exemplars cannot, and will not be affiliated with any of the ducal forces. This much, I can assure you.
You must operate as a heroic, independent unit.
...
Alexandrina, you will come to know... what the Exemplars mean to Victoria.
For now, we undoubtedly stand on the same side.
Take count of your troops. It's time to go.
The situation on the battlefield will finally stabilize.
No longer afflicted by the extreme Originium-dense environment, Victoria's forces will be free to display their full potential.
The Military Commission's defeat on the main battlefield is inevitable.
Even if there are still disputes among the dukes, the overall strength and sustained combat capability of the Victorian Army far eclipses what the Sarkaz can muster. Additionally, Victoria just enjoyed a massive morale boost.
It won't be long until the scales of victory tip towards Victoria.
Yes...
Amiya, Theresis must have foreseen this when he decided to start this war and fill the trenches of a foreign land with Sarkaz lives.
I know, Dr. Kal'tsit.
But, the more this happens, the more I find myself thinking... What kind of future are they hoping for with so many people thrown away for nothing?
Whatever that might be...
Kal'tsit looks up into the crimson sky.
The storm has not completely halted. The Originium dust swirling in the inverted airflow was only temporarily driven back by the Sighs of Kings, and now rages even more violently than before.
Perhaps they all feel the same way, exhausted just from trying to avert the advent of disaster.
We are only one step from the abyss.
'Return from whence you came.'
On the other side of the canyon... is that a crystal cluster that's glowing? Logos...
No matter how many tricks they have up their sleeves, they cannot conceal the blood.
I have removed the Confessarius illusions.
Once we go over there...
We'll find the real altar.
It's cold. Way too cold.
You feel the temperature abruptly change again. Before you know it, you are surrounded once more by a thick, swamp-like fog.
This is the Nachzehrer's last line of defense in front of the true altar.
This is where Nezzsalem intends to stop us. He does not want us to get any closer.
The lament of the dead fills the air above the battlefield. The Nachzehrers' power... is almost at its very peak.
I have seen the dark clouds of death hanging on the horizon.
If the scorching sun no longer shines, I shall cast the light that pierces the fog here.
We will...
Cross over to the other side.
Find Salus, and destroy the Blood of Teekaz.
May the wails of the dead find some quiescence.
Logos lifts his hand and points to the other side of the canyon.
The congealing mist parts once more.
––'Ferry'.
Brief, yet powerful.
Logos seems to both be describing a physical action and uttering an incantation at once.
Originium crystals surge like waves in front of you, stretching all the way to the other side of the canyon until they form a narrow, but stable bridge.
Logos! Just you, alone?
Amiya, do you still have the package I left with you before? Please give it back to me.
Of course, but––
Death is pursuing you.
You run with all your might. Maybe it's Amiya who's pulling you, Mon3tr who's dragging you along, or Logos who's pushing you ahead with his incantation––
You hardly even feel your feet touching the ground, but it is as if a thousand bony hands are growing from the mist, trying to latch onto your ankles.
But, the aura of decay fails to reach you in the end. A formless barrier envelops your body, keeping the haze at bay.
You know that Logos's incantation is taking effect. In this moment, the Banshee's 'curse' feels so gentle and warm.
You hear something collapsing, and look in its direction.
The bridge has disappeared, just as quickly and cleanly as when it appeared.
The thick fog once again teems forth, impatient.
You search for that familiar figure, but perhaps because he is too far, or perhaps because the fog is too thick, you cannot see anything at all.
Is Logos in danger?
I'm a bit worried...
Doctor, this is the decision that elite operator Logos made.
He has the right to make his own tactical judgments based upon the situation at hand. He believes that it would be most beneficial for us to head to the real altar while he faces the Nachzehrers head-on.
Answer me, Doctor. Do you trust him? Do you trust elite operator Logos?
...
Yes.
I trust him.
Then, you should also trust that he will regroup with us when we are in need.
The whistle pierces through the thick fog, the incantation spreading in ripples.
Nothing needs to be spoken, nothing needs to be written...
The concealed dead have nowhere to hide. the Sudaram's piercing shriek forms into a longsword that shuttles through the fog.
The words from the whistle quiver, and the Banshee's song resounds––
Within the ancient bloodlines of the Sarkaz, in a valley choked with Originium, amidst the lamentations of countless people who fell in battle...
Flaming shells and witchcraft-imbued rounds intertwine in the skies above the battlefield.
A high-speed battleship crashes into a witchcraft bastion.
A small number of Victorian soldiers charge head-first into an entire squad of Nachzehrers.
The song grows louder and clearer.
When that song reaches its climax, the Nachzehrer soldiers fall into silence and stop attacking one after another, like motionless flags.
They no longer hunt.
At last, death has returned to the land.
War has come to answer your song.
The withered branches retreat in unison. They coil, then lie down, returning once more to their long-deceased forms.
The most hideous and ancient among them still seem to be struggling unwillingly, finally twisting into a scepter.
The tip of the scepter strikes the ground, and a figure emerges from the depths of the dense fog.
Aefanyl... The master of the Elegiac Court.
You chose to stay behind and face me alone.
The corners of his clothes flutter, as the fog disperses.
The Sudaram's white robes are scattered across the dense white hills of withered branches. Longswords lie fallen and shattered, like grass in a forest.
The young Banshee sits sideways atop the hill, his bloodstained fingers plucking at the bone whistle in front of his lips...
Gentle. Melodious.
No, Nezzsalem. There is no such master here.
Only Logos, elite operator of Rhodes Island, dressed to greet our guest.
I have crafted this opus upon death's motif, and I dedicate it to you.