The morning of departure for the Imperial Capital Lupgana had arrived.
At the gates of the fortress city Garka, evacuees from the capital and its surroundings continued to stream in that morning as well, and the number of people had swelled to a point beyond what even a city built to house large crowds could contain.
Everyone was scrambling to deal with the overflow, but unfortunately, it was not a problem that those outside the Empire's affairs could lend a hand to or comment on.
That was precisely why they had to properly carry out the task they'd been given.
Properly—they had to carry it out, or else— "It's very, very painful... but I'm no help on my own."
Yes, the peach-haired boy who hunched his small shoulders in frustration—his suffering was palpable, and
She knew all too well the pain of lacking the strength to do what you wanted.
Moreover, this boy—Shurto—was a young child. When Emilia had been small herself, there had been times she couldn't stay by the side of someone important to her.
That was why she understood Shurto's feelings, to the point it hurt.
"Lady Emilia, please, I'm begging you. Please help Lady Priscilla, Al, and Heinkel."
With round eyes brimming with tears, Shurto pleaded with Emilia.
It took tremendous courage for such a small child to hold back tears and ask someone to help the people he loved most.
It was something Emilia herself couldn't have done. That was why she respected Shurto's courage.
And she would bring back a different ending for Shurto than the one she'd had back then.
"Leave it to me. Thank you for asking."
"Lady Emilia..."
"Because now, no matter what Priscilla says to push me away, I can say I was properly asked to help!"
Emilia thumped her chest to put Shurto at ease.
Hearing that, Shurto's already round eyes grew even rounder, and then his expression brightened immediately.
"Yes! Lady Priscilla isn't honest, so please talk back to her!"
Even if it was forced courage, Shurto's voice had regained its energy. True to his words, Emilia nodded firmly with a "Yes!"
"Heh, reliablé. But, dangrous too. Betty should keep a close watch."
"...I don't need you to tell me that. I intend to."
Beside Emilia and Shurto, the ones exchanging words were two short-statured girls.
"If the time comes, Uta will protect Shu and fight. Betty, do your best with the Su ones."
"...My, how reassuring."
Yes, despite their youthful appearances, the two had a considerable gap in actual age. They pledged to do their best and exchanged their resolve for the battle that would decide the fate of the Volachia Empire.
△▼△▼△▼△ And, some distance away— "Well then, I'm off, big bro! Lady Serena!"
Medium declared in a bright, spirited voice, flashing a brave smile at the two people seeing her off.
Medium, who had joined the group heading into the Imperial Capital, was being seen off by her brother Flop, of course, and by the treasured benefactor she had reunited with on the battlefield—Serena Dragroy.
Long having watched over Flop and Medium since childhood, Serena—complete with the white scar across her face—remained as beautiful as ever as she saw Medium off to the battlefield.
Just as she had the day the siblings had left her side and struck out on their own.
"To think that Medium would not only surpass me, but aim to surpass me in status as well. If you successfully become His Excellency's consort, you'd better be grateful."
"Geez, I'm trying not to think about that right now! I'm going to see big bro Bal—I can't be thinking about Abel right now!"
"That's right. You're not a clever enough girl. That's exactly why—"
Softly, Serena stepped forward and placed her hand on Medium's cheek.
Serena was tall for a woman, and Medium was even taller. But with Serena touching her like this, Medium could feel herself returning to how she'd felt as a girl.
On that day of departure long ago, Serena had touched Medium's face the same way—tracing the same spot on her own face where the white sword scar was.
"I envy your ability to wish for a conversation with that one, without hesitation."
"Serena..."
"With both Barroy and
Fearlessness was Medium's impression of Serena.
In truth, when Serena had seized the family headship from her own father, she hadn't even changed expression when he'd screamed at her in resentment and left her with a wound that would never fade.
"That's a lie. It hurt, and my father's words were painful too. Blood simply flowed instead of tears."
"Hmm? I wonder about that. When something is truly painful, even if blood is flowing, tears flow along with it, don't they? In that case, Count Dragroy wasn't crying..."
"Quiet. Shut up."
When Flop tilted his head in puzzlement, he was silenced by that cold voice. Still touching Medium's face, Serena narrowed her eyes and gazed at him with affection.
"The scar on my face was something I had to obtain in order to be reborn. I don't want the same scar on your face, but I do hope that you gain something."
"...Yeah. Serena, is there anything you want me to tell big bro Bal? I'll definitely pass it on."
"...Yes."
At Medium's determination—her resolve to relay the message—Serena fell silent for a moment, considering. But the clever woman quickly returned an answer to Medium's question.
What she wanted to tell Barroy was— "Go to sleep already. Miles has been grumbling about how boring it is without you."
A message that was quintessentially Serena—fierce yet affectionate, directed at someone who was neither quite a subordinate nor quite a younger brother, but somewhere in between.
△▼△▼△▼△ "Schwartz—worst case, if you don't come back, I won't blame you."
"Whoa, whoa."
Idra said that to Subaru with a serious face, and Subaru couldn't help but widen his eyes.
He was about to retort with "Don't joke around at a time like this," but since Idra's serious expression didn't crack, he ultimately missed the chance.
In Subaru's place, it was Hiaan who raised his voice, shouting, "What the hell are you saying?!"
The lizardman blinked his surprisingly round eyes at Idra and glared.
"Hey, hey, what the hell kind of thing is that to say?! What do you mean he doesn't have to come back?! Don't tell me you're telling our brother to go die!"
"If I may say so without fear of misunderstanding—yes."
"Hah?! There's no misunderstanding here! Traitor! We've got a traitor in the family! Brother, what the hell, this is bad!"
"Wait, wait, wait—calm down, Hiaan. Idra suddenly saying something like this is weird, right? There's no way."
Idra lowered his face at Hiaan's outburst. The man's atmosphere was incredibly grave, and Subaru felt bad for him, but he wasn't airheaded enough to take those words at face value.
More importantly, his relationship with Idra simply wasn't like that.
"So why did you say that? Tell me the reason. The reason."
"...I had an audience with His Majesty alongside General Gustaf. That's when I heard it. I asked His Majesty what he intended to do with Schwartz."
Clenching his fist tightly, Idra spoke with bitterness. Subaru let out an "Oh, I see."
He'd heard that Gustaf would be talking with Abel last night, but he had no idea that Idra had been present at that meeting—and that Idra had dropped such a bombshell.
Still, if Idra had been there, it was a natural question to ask.
Originally, the members of the "Pleiades Watch" had been assembled with Subaru at the center, united by the goal of punching Emperor Vincent Volachia right in the face.
The zombie panic had muddied things, but once the problem was resolved, the civil war's conclusion still had to be settled.
That said, directly questioning Abel about it took quite a bit of nerve.
"R-really...? So what did the Emperor say about the brother?"
"His Majesty said that whether Schwartz lives or dies depends on his performance..."
"Th-that's ridiculous...! That's just up to the Emperor's mood!"
Hearing the news Idra had brought back, Hiaan's voice shook with anger.
In Subaru's mind, he could roughly picture the Abel who'd said those words and guess the intent behind them. But to people who didn't know Abel's true nature, it sounded like an excuse to dispose of Subaru after the war under some pretext.
"So you're telling me to die."
"Huh? You mean—betray the brother and side with the Emperor—"
"No, I mean make it look like that and get away, right?"
Subaru cut off Hiaan, who was taking things too literally. Idra nodded at his words.
Idra lowered his eyes in frustration.
"It was His Majesty who rallied the Volachian people amidst the chaos of the dead rising and confusion spreading. Once this situation is suppressed, the seeds of discontent that led to the civil war will wither away entirely. ...If Vincent survives, the Emperor's throne will be secure."
"Wh-what if the brother achieves something huge?! Like taking out the enemy boss with a decisive blow—"
"Even that would be tough. He'd be recognized for his meritorious service by His Majesty, kept on a leash, and then possibly assassinated somewhere down the line once the heat dies down."
"That's just too cruel for the Volachia Empire..."
What made this so unsettling was that Idra and Hiaan's way of thinking wasn't overthinking—it was genuinely how the Empire operated.
At the very least, he wanted to hope that Abel's governance would soften somewhat going forward, but realistically, it would be hard to completely change Idra and company's perception right now.
Still, he felt bad for Idra, who was worried about him, and Hiaan, who was searching for a way out, but— "No faking my death. And obviously, no actually dying either. I'll come back properly. Besides, there are things I need to tell everyone."
"Schwartz..."
"Don't look so serious. I don't know if everything will work out perfectly, but I think the worst-case scenario can at least be avoided."
Regardless, their biggest concern—the "struggle for the throne"—would have its fundamental premise overturned.
He was worried about how things would go with his comrades afterward, but all he could do there was offer his sincere, heartfelt apology.
"I'll come back properly. —So stop trying to sneak onto the dragon carriage, Weitz."
"Guuh..."
When Subaru called out, a muffled voice came from somewhere.
Idra and Hiaan looked around to see where it was coming from, and Subaru sighed and crouched down.
Behind where they'd been talking was the dragon carriage scheduled to carry the infiltration group.
Hanging from underneath the vehicle, clinging to the axle, was a tattooed man. Weitz, with the skull tattooed on his body, reluctantly revealed himself from there.
"Even with the 'Divine Blessing of Wind Resistance' keeping the shaking down, if you cling to a spot like that for a whole day, you'd normally fall and die."
"My life is in your hands... I'd die for you without regret..."
"If you secretly fall to your death, I'm not saying you died for me!"
Weitz, whose sense of brotherhood was firing in the wrong direction, fell silent with a "Nnngh..." at Subaru's pointed remark.
At that moment, Hiaan and Idra stepped forward as well.
"You! You promised to stay behind and guard the brother's return! Don't try to pull a fast one, you traitor!"
"Shut up, don't lump me in with that annoying bearded man over there...!"
"Stop treating me like a traitor! You already figured out that's not the case!"
"Enough! Calm down! Stop arguing! Get along!"
Subaru quelled the three who had started bickering in their usual manner, hands on his hips.
Yes, they had become familiar enough for this to feel like their usual dynamic. But they needed to stay behind in the fortress city and prepare to fight the approaching zombie hordes.
Strong and tough, with a stubborn refusal to die that was now arguably the Empire's finest—they were the one group Subaru could rely on most in the fight against zombies who couldn't be killed or allowed to kill.
"I'm counting on all of you here. I've got a lot of important comrades. Unlike you guys, they can't fight... pretty much can't fight at all."
"Say it with more conviction!"
In his head, Subaru pictured
Hiaan raised his voice in exasperation, and Subaru let out a wry laugh.
"Right, it's not about whether they can or can't fight—it's that I don't want them to have to fight. On that front, you guys are different. So fight to your hearts' content!"
"...That's honest trust. I'll take it as such."
"That's right. Weitz, you accept that too."
"————"
He met eyes with Hiaan and Idra, then finally Weitz, and spoke to them. Weitz had his arms crossed, and with his skull tattoo, his fierce scowl was hidden behind closed eyes.
After a moment of silent thought, Weitz slowly uncrossed his arms— "Un... fine, fine, fine... fine..."
"You've got to be convinced!"
"Fine..."
Bleeding reluctance with every word, Weitz too agreed to Subaru's plan.
Then Weitz slowly extended his hand toward Subaru and placed it on his shoulder. And in a voice gentler than was typical for him— "You said you'd come back, brother... so do it."
"Oh."
Slightly taken aback, Subaru quickly broke into a smile and nodded back.
"You got it, brother."
He wanted to answer not just the extended hand, but the trust behind it as well.
Hearing that, Weitz broke into a satisfied smile. But— "Hey, hey, hey, hey—don't copy my way of talking, you damn thief!"
"You're the one doing it on your own... Schwartz called me by name, so..."
"Don't get into a pointless argument! Are you done sorting things out?!"
"Enough! Stop it! Brothers!!"
Once again, the three broke into a heated argument for different reasons, and Subaru quelled them while savoring this fleeting parting with his troublesome brothers.
△▼△▼△▼△ "You understand the role you are to fulfill. Never forget that whether your life continues beyond the war depends entirely on your performance."
"Mhm mhm."
Vincent closed one eye as the girl—who wore an expression of earnest obedience, probably sincerely—nodded at him.
The power held by this girl, one of the Great Sin Archbishops whom
Even if that was true, enlisting the cooperation of a Great Sin Archbishop in one's strategy was something that would be called unthinkable even by the Volachia Empire, which other nations already considered far outside the norm.
The premise that a Great Sin Archbishop's cooperation could even be drawn upon was already impossible to begin with.
"Your Excellency! The dragon carriage preparations are complete! If all goes well, even without an articulated dragon carriage, we should reach the Imperial Capital before long!!"
From beyond the mountain—or so loud was the voice that it could have been heard even from there—Goz's voice reached the spot where Vincent was facing
In any case— "When we arrive, it won't do if the 'Stone Clusters' have already exhausted their reserves. You must give strict orders as well. Tell them not to needlessly take the lives of the dead."
"A battle without killing or being killed is far too unknown a concept, but I will endeavor to ensure Your Excellency's orders reach every soldier! However—"
There, Goz paused, clenching a fist as big as a child's head. Even without seeing his side profile, it was obvious that the man was grimacing, his facial scars twisting in frustration.
Sure enough, Goz's rumbling, imposing voice trembled with emotion as he made his plea.
"Please—couldn't I accompany you after all?!"
"Mgh—"
Goz's appeal, squeezed out with far more force than one might expect, made Spica recoil as if buffeted by a gust of wind. Even Vincent felt the vibration in his skin.
Goz's booming voice could shake the world even without his beloved warhammer.
"However much you lament, the decision will not change."
"Your Excellency!"
"With the exception of you, the only ones fit to serve as commanders are Upper Count Serena Dragroy or Second General Zickrel Osman. Either could handle a single battlefield, but a full-scale war is another matter."
"That's—"
"With Chisha gone, there is no one but you to whom the entire army can be entrusted. Understand the weight of that."
At Vincent's words, Goz's eyes widened and his entire body stiffened.
Belstetz was a civil official, and while Serena was capable as an Upper Count, she was not a military officer. Zickrel had never commanded such a massive army. That left no one but Goz for overall command. It was Vincent's honest assessment, without any flattery.
"I entrust every soldier to you. Think of it as the Empire's fate resting on your sturdy shoulders."
With a straight, unwavering gaze fixed on Goz, Vincent spoke those words.
Receiving them, Goz shut his eyes tightly, and in that single moment of closure, cut through his hesitation.
His eyes blazed with the ferocity befitting the title of "Lion Knight" as Goz pressed fist to palm before his chest and swore his oath to Vincent.
"I—
"Well said."
"Hah!!"
Goz bowed deeply at the curt, chin-lifting acknowledgment from Vincent.
He would have liked to accompany Vincent and wield his mighty arms as a bodyguard. But Goz held back that sentiment, and instead— "Leave it in capable hands, Third General Aurelie! You must protect His Excellency at all costs!"
"Leave it to me, First General Ralfon! Now that I've been chosen for this role, I'll fulfill it to the last!"
It was Jamal who thumped his chest vigorously as Goz entrusted him with this charge.
Named as Vincent's bodyguard and entrusted with the task by Goz himself, Jamal grinned with a rough, eager smile.
The Aurelie family was technically a household of Lower Counts, and he had absolutely none of the refinement one might expect of the nobility.
But— "Good answer! That's what a soldier of the Volachia Empire looks like!!"
As Goz stood tall and broad-chested to see him off, this very attitude was what it meant to be Volachian.
Thinking about it that way, Subaru and the people from the Kingdom—who had been so difficult to handle—were ultimately unsuitable for use, however much understanding or sympathy they might offer.
"Don't you become a tool that can't be used when the chips are down."
"Mm, mhm."
Vincent glanced over at Spica, who was covering her ears while Goz and Jamal exchanged loud words, and told her that.
At his words, Spica scowled and pursed her lips.
For some reason, that expression overlapped with Medium's from the previous night, when she had admonished Vincent over his behavior. Vincent let out a sigh.
And then— △▼△▼△▼△ —Three dragon carriages departed. Compared to the people streaming into the fortress city by beast-drawn cart or on foot, the number of personnel seemed vanishingly small.
But they were, without question, the arrow of hope sent forth to prevent the "Great Calamity" that had struck the Volachia Empire—or rather, the "Great Calamity" that would soon destroy it.
Each of them carried strong resolve and the hopes of many, returning to the Imperial Capital that had become a city of corpses to slay the ringleader of this crisis—a "
And— "...To think my brother is one of them. It feels unreal."
Kachua pushed her wheelchair to the window and gazed at the scene below, murmuring to herself. Hearing this, Rem, who was beside her, softened her eyes.
Kachua's brother, Jamal, was one of the personnel heading to the Imperial Capital as Abel's bodyguard.
Rem's memory of meeting him hadn't been the best, but since he was Kachua's brother, she couldn't be too hostile—and he was someone she found difficult to deal with.
That said, if Abel had chosen him as an escort for the final phase, he must have earned Abel's trust.
"My brother is simple. Things like being easy to handle or easy to use as a pawn—those are the reasons."
"Even Abel wouldn't be that coldhearted... I think."
"I wonder. At least, my brother seems to think so... A-and you heard what my brother said yesterday, didn't you?"
"Um, that was... yes."
Rem, stared up at by Kachua, couldn't dodge the question and nodded.
Last night, Jamal had visited Kachua and reported that he had been chosen to accompany Abel to the Imperial Capital. Then, with a laugh, he'd said to Kachua: "Don't worry, Kachua. I'll do something heroic for His Excellency and die spectacularly! That way, even without Todd around, you won't have to worry about making a living on the reward!"
"He really didn't seem to mean any harm."
"Even without meaning harm, you can still do harm... Why do both my brother and Todd keep treating their own lives so carelessly, really..."
It was probably Jamal's way of looking out for his sister Kachua's livelihood, but Rem desperately wished he would consider Kachua's feelings more than her finances.
If she lost her fiancé Todd and then her own brother Jamal as well, Kachua would truly be alone in this world.
That was something even Rem's presence as a friend couldn't fill.
"I felt the same way when I reunited with my sister... when I reunited with her."
Since she had no "memories," her reunion with Ram was, for the present Rem, their first meeting. But even without "memories," her "soul" remembered Ram's existence, and it had firmly shown Rem that she was not alone in this world.
For Kachua, Jamal should be that kind of person too.
And yet Jamal thought the way he did—that was simply the way of this Empire's culture.
"No matter what kind of Emperor Abel turns out to be, I don't particularly like this Empire..."
"...What a coincidence. I don't either. I don't have a favorite country or place, but..."
"At this point, I'm the same."
From what Subaru and Ram had told her, Rem's hometown was apparently a place called the
Given how Subaru constantly badmouthed the Empire, the Kingdom must have been somewhat more comfortable to live in by comparison.
Still— "—After this battle is over"
Would she go to that Kingdom?
It was hard to part with Ram, and she had no reason to doubt that the Kingdom was her homeland. But for the present Rem, there were more people and things she knew in the Empire than in the Kingdom.
She couldn't quite picture herself in an unfamiliar country.
"...Rem, it looks like they're leaving."
Kachua's voice suddenly reached Rem as she was lost in thought.
Called back, Rem looked out the same window and saw the three dragon carriages heading for the Imperial Capital about to depart.
Spica, Abel, and Subaru were all aboard.
"Did you properly see them off?"
"I talked to him at breakfast. Kachua, what about your brother..."
"I said everything I wanted to say. It's no use getting angry, but I made sure he knew I was angry."
Turning her face away, Kachua recalled the argument she'd had with Jamal and made a bitter face.
But she'd said everything she could to a brother heading to a dangerous place. That was why she turned only her gaze toward Rem, as if to say— "Did you say what you wanted to say?"
"...What I wanted to say?"
"Because you seem like you're sulking."
That was an unexpectedly unfair assessment, and Rem blinked.
Sulking—that was a word for children throwing a pout. First of all, Rem wasn't sulking the way Kachua described.
"There's no reason for me to sulk, so..."
"If that's really the case, then fine."
"————"
When Kachua pressed so persistently, Rem pressed her lips together.
The way she said it made it sound like Rem was lying. She wasn't sulking, and there was no need for Rem to pour out any more words.
Subaru had Emilia. He had Beatrice.
Spica and Abel would be there too, and so would
So— "I... I..."
"————"
"I'm full of regrets."
Still looking away, fixing only her gaze on Rem, Kachua moved her lips with hesitation.
What those words meant, what feelings they were connected to—there was no need to ask.
Rem squeezed her eyes shut, then reached toward the window where she and Kachua had been looking at the scene below, and flung it wide open.
Instantly, the cool morning breeze flowed into the room in the fortress, stroking Rem's blue hair.
Mixed into that wind was a smell that could hardly be called refreshing. Toward the source of that smell—the dragon carriages heading there— "Make sure you come back and give me an excuse!!"
That was what Rem shouted into the wind, casting her wish toward the departing dragon carriages.
She couldn't say she wanted him to come back safely. She couldn't even bring herself to wish him good fortune. But pushed by Kachua, she couldn't choose to say nothing.
Her troubled feelings, spoken aloud—that was what came out.
What exactly was Natsuki Subaru to Rem?
He'd been so desperate for her sake, yet Emilia and Beatrice were there. He'd risked his life for the Empire. He'd been glared at by everyone for Spica's sake. What was he?
"Until you come back and tell me that, I won't forgive you."
Not because of the foul, evil stench that seemed to bend your nose.
She wanted to know the right words to place as a crown upon "you, who are everywhere in the new 'memories' I've forged, you who I have no 'memories' of."
Rem's great voice was swallowed by the wind, and she couldn't be sure it had reached its target.
But from the last of the three departing dragon carriages, through the open window, a small hand—a child's small hand—waved back toward her.
"Idiot. You look so happy."
—Rem thought she heard Kachua sigh beside her, looking at her face.