Father

From the silver gun came a blue bullet — a bullet made of magic power.

When I pulled the trigger, it bypassed the Magic Shield Father had prepared by using the Seventh Generation's [Warp] Skill, piercing straight through his armor. It opened a hole slightly below his solar plexus.

As Father staggered, the saber slipped from his hand. In the now-quiet battlefield, the sound of it clanging against the ground echoed. In the distance, fighting still raged on, but it was gradually growing quieter.

Father slowly fell onto his back, and as he touched his own body with his left hand to check the blood—

"…I see. So I lost to you, Father and all… to you, Lyle."

Father said that while looking at me. I couldn't tell what expression he wore as he gazed at me. Perhaps he was overlaying me — the me holding a gun — with the Seventh Generation.

I returned the gun to the Jewel, holstered the pistol in my left hand behind my hip, and walked toward Father with the Jewel still clenched tight in my grip.

Then—

"M-Meizel!"

Bale Randberg was in a panic. Information from the surroundings flowed in through the Valkyries. Since I had a Skill active, the terrain and the disposition of friend and foe alike were displayed in my mind's vision.

The Valkyries were broadcasting across the battlefield that I had won, and word of our victory was spreading. But knights and soldiers caught up in the excitement, like Bale, were already on the move.

"Get back!"

Had Bale activated a Skill as well? He closed in with frightening speed. Aria blocked him, using a Skill of her own.

"I told you not to get in the way!"

Once word spread that Skills could be used, Miranda was not one to stay quiet either.

"Now I can get serious… Back off, or you'll die!"

Wire shot from the fingertips of both her hands, binding and severing in one fluid motion. By the time the battlefield had grown noisy once more, I had already reached Father's side.

Crouching down, I looked at his face as he pressed his hand against the hole torn through his body. He had lost so much blood that rather than blue, his complexion was black. Dust from the battlefield had grime his face, and he looked as though even moving was painful.

Still, he wore an expression of relief.

"...I wonder why. I feel so relieved right now."

"Yes."

"Lyle... how old are you now?"

"I'll be seventeen this year."

I had left home around spring. Thinking back on that, it had been nearly two years since I went out into the world. So many things had happened. It felt like it had been such a long time, and yet it also seemed like it had passed in the blink of an eye...

"...I see. Seventeen, huh? Then I should have you experience your first battle... Wait, did I buy you a horse? I need to have weapons prepared too... I should have them made right away... And then arrangements for a wife... No, was your fiancée Novem? I can't seem to remember clearly."

Whether his memories were muddled or he had simply forgotten everything that had happened since... Father was looking at me as his son. I felt tears welling up. But then I saw the blood on his left hand as he reached toward me.

"...It wasn't a dream, then. So I lost."

I nodded at my father as he coughed up blood. Then I took his outstretched right hand in both of mine.

"...I'm sorry, Father. There was no other way! ...I'm such a failure of a son... I'm sorry."

Then Father steadied his breathing and closed his eyes. He was smiling, just slightly.

"What are you saying? After all the trouble I've put you through, you still call me Father. I'm the one who was the failure. But it seems this is it for me. My body won't move anymore. I want to apologize. There's so much I wanted to tell you..."

Father coughed up blood, and the dry earth beneath him drank it in. He choked and sputtered, and when I gripped his right hand tightly, the Jewel began to glow.

"There... there are things I want to tell you too. But right now, what you need to do is... Li... Lyle... raise your war cry. You've defeated me. Deliver the finishing blow. And... stop Ceres. She's my daughter too. She's of House Walt... *cough*!"

I nodded to my father, who could no longer speak through the blood he was coughing up. And then I spoke.

"Rest assured. I will stop her. That's why..."

I didn't know what else to say. But Father was smiling.

"Ah... forgive me. I'll go on ahead and get scolded by my own father. You take your time and come along later. And Ceres... if she comes to this side, give her a good scolding..."

Father took one more breath, and then he stopped moving. I rose to my feet and clenched the Jewel in my hand.

"Meizel Walt has been slain by this Lyle Walt! Cease all combat immediately and surrender!"

Then, the Jewel blazed with blue light. The Third Generation within it.

*Is this... Anti-Skill? No, that's not it.*

Blue particles of light rained down across the battlefield, and enemy soldiers who touched them suddenly crumpled. Bayle, who had been fighting Aria, stood frozen in place with wide eyes, still clutching his weapon but staring in Lyle's direction.

"...Lyle."

—The left flank.

The one who had been holding off the troublesome House Foxes was none other than Novem of House Foxes herself. She had wielded a staff shaped into a great scythe to stand against her father and brother.

She had been dealing with the two who charged in, but now she gazed up at the blue particles of light raining from above. Novem reached out with her right hand, touched one of the blue motes drifting down like snow, and clenched it tight.

"...Lyle, you must be pushing yourself so hard..."

Novem murmured, sorrowful.

The Valkyries who had been at Novem's side came to report the current situation.

"Novem, the enemy is being neutralized. It seems to be connected to this light... Also, some have begun to surrender. However, most of them still don't seem to understand what's happening."

Novem looked up at the sky.

It was the same for her father Gerard and her brother Elbert, who stood armed and facing off against each other. Gerard spoke.

"...Meizel has passed, then."

"Father."

Gerard removed his helmet and pressed the blade of his sword against the side of his own neck.

"That's enough. I've served the previous head and Meizel. The current head will take responsibility. That is all. You surrender and follow Lyle's orders — whether it's execution or joining his ranks, act as a member of House Foxes."

Elbert nodded with his head bowed. Then he sheathed his sword and tossed it over to Novem.

"Novem... I'm surrendering."

The tenderness Novem had shown toward Lyle, she did not extend to her family. She caught her brother's sword in her right hand and simply nodded. Then she turned to look at her father.

"I'll leave the matter of my brother to Lord Lyle. Do you have any last words?"

Her father, Gerard, was smiling. Rather than being unafraid of the death awaiting him, it seemed he had something he wanted to say to his daughter.

"Aha ha ha, Novem... you really are honest to a fault. Your family is about to die. At least pretend to look a little sad. Lord Lyle will find it unpleasant, you know."

At those words, Novem—

"I'll be sure to do that when I'm at Lord Lyle's side."

Then Gerard drew his blade across his own neck, blood spraying forth. His last words—

"Either way... with this, House Foxes' role is also..."

Near the command tent.

Riding in the cargo bed of a parked Porter, he watched the soldiers surrendering. Every last one of them wore an expression of disbelief.

With the Jewel hanging around his neck, I confirmed with the Third Generation.

"I wonder what happened. I thought the fighting would continue as it was, but suddenly light overflowed from the Jewel... and then light rained down over the battlefield, just like that."

Recalling the scene from earlier, I asked the Third Generation. There was no one around me now. No—they simply didn't approach.

They were considerately standing guard from a slight distance.

"I'm not entirely sure either, to be honest? Well, this might be the Jewel's power as well. After all, the one who forged this blue Jewel was the mighty Septem. An existence greater than Agrissa. If something like this could be done, you might wonder why it wasn't sooner—though that's probably asking too much. ...Then again, it could be the influence of Meizel's Skills. I can't say for certain. Really, if only Mireia were here for times like this."

The Third Generation answered with a touch of humor, but I could tell he was being considerate. I had been crying, my eyes swollen, and I was trying not to let anyone see—forcing myself to smile.

"That's true."

"Lyle, I know you want to cry, but hang in there just a little longer. Sorry, but that's just the kind of position you're in right now. But make time later. Once you do, things will go back to the way they were. I'm sure you'll be even busier from here on out."

The Jewel, from which I once heard a voice so persistent it was almost annoying, now carried only the Third Generation's words. I found myself feeling a pang of loneliness about that.

"...Third Generation, was Father finally freed from Ceres in the end?"

"Yes. I believe he was freed. Still... that the only way to free someone who's been charmed is to kill them... And on top of that, Meizel influenced the Jewel in some way. Thanks to that, we managed to find a way to free the charmed ones. But things just don't always go the way you want, do they?"

Ideally, I would have wanted to put Father in my care before this happened.

"...What should I do about Mother?"

"Even if I released her, it would still be a punishment. It depends on Lyle, but thinking about the future, it'll be tough. The others will absolutely demand a severe punishment. If you go easy, people will think Lyle is being lenient. Well, torture would actually be the wrong approach—they'd wonder if he'd really do that to family."

"That's a difficult situation."

"It is. It really is. Balancing things in this world is genuinely hard. Well, that's just how it is, so Lyle will need to learn his own way of finding that balance. Honestly speaking, what comes next is unknown territory even for me. And to add to that, there's no such thing as an absolute right answer."

I wanted to take some time to gather my thoughts and sort through my feelings.

If I had been dealing with someone I hated, it might have been easier. But within the Seventh Generation's memories, I had truly been loved. I had been able to learn that. I had been able to... and that was exactly what made me even sadder.

Then, the Third Generation spoke up.

"Times like these, you should lean on the women around you. Women tend to be stronger in situations like this, and besides, Lyle has plenty of girls like that nearby."

I shot back at the Third Generation, who was speaking in his usual light, breezy tone.

"There are too many of them—if I lean on anyone, it'll cause friction. Honestly, whose fault is it that things turned out this way?"

"Oh, look at you, getting assertive."

The Third Generation laughed. He laughed, and in his own way, he was comforting me.

——Baldoa had come to where Beil, now a prisoner, was being held.

Unlike the soldiers who had been stripped of their weapons and gathered in one place, Beil held a position of responsibility. When Baldoa appeared, he was alone.

He sat inside the iron bars that had been prepared for him, his posture upright despite his captivity.

"...You came. Thank goodness, Baldoa."

"Uncle. I expect Master Lyle will arrive here shortly. When he does, please tell him everything."

Beil wore a weary expression, but his eyes were serious.

"I can hardly afford to stand on pride and refuse to see him now. But promise me a few things."

"……As long as it's within my power."

Beil looked at his nephew Baldoa and offered a faint smile.

"I'll take responsibility. If I don't, I'll only drag Master Lyle down. Execution would be the most fitting outcome. However, I ask that the others receive lenient punishments. And as a man of House Landberg, you should serve Master Lyle from now on. Your father must have sent you here with that intent, correct?"

Baldoa nodded, looking at his uncle Beil.

"……Yes. I've brought nearly three hundred soldiers from our homeland."

Beil laughed.

"Father truly lives up to his reputation. He's nothing like me. That's right…… nothing like me at all."

Baldoa asked, watching Beil bow his head in frustration.

"Uncle, what was happening at the Walt estate? Didn't it seem strange to treat Master Lyle so coldly?"

Beil answered honestly.

"……I know it's nothing but an excuse, but I genuinely believed it was the right thing. No—I simply did as I was told. I never even raised a question. That Master Ceres was the one truly suited for House Walt…… Looking back now, I can't even explain to myself why I tried to make Ceres the head of the house. The truth is, I too had high hopes for Master Lyle. There were many of us like that. We truly…… had high hopes."

Baldoa had also seen Banseim's soldiers who had been ensnared by Ceres. And even though his own family had been freed from someone like Ceres and were speaking to him like this, there was nothing he could do to save them. After all, the world would never believe such a story.

"Uncle, if you changed your name and became a knight serving Master Lyle—"

"I have my pride, too. Besides, the more retainers Master Meizel has, the better. The head of House Foxes took his own life as well. Once I've fulfilled my duty, I'll follow."

His resolve was already set, and Baldoa could offer no further persuasion——.

——Inside the Jewel, the Round Table chamber.

There were only two seats and a door behind them. Of the eight seats, six had been lost, and now silver weapons floated in their place.

"The First Generation's greatsword—the Second Generation's bow—the Fourth Generation's short sword—the Fifth Generation's serpent blade—the Sixth Generation's halberd—and the Seventh Generation's gun, huh? I wonder if my sword looks any less impressive by comparison."

Even as he murmured these words to himself, no reply came anymore. The Third Generation thought.

(How ironic. That I, the only one in House Walt to die in battle, am the last one remaining here. It would have been easier if I had disappeared sooner.)

But each of them had held its own meaning. Now, even the Third Generation could see that. The First Generation had brought change to Lyle's heart. The Second Generation had strengthened it. The Sixth Generation had taught Lyle battlefield conduct and the art of guile, while the Fourth Generation had focused mainly on domestic affairs — the Fifth Generation had taught Lyle about feelings. And the Seventh Generation had shown him the fact that he was loved.

"There's really nothing I can leave behind except Skills... Seriously, it's so annoying when everyone just goes ahead and puts their expectations on me."

After the Second Generation disappeared, they had once discussed among themselves who would be the last one remaining inside the Jewel. In the end, though, based on the difficulty of the Skills, it was decided it would be either the Third or the Seventh Generation.

"There's almost nothing left to teach anyway. Couldn't I just hand over the Skills and be done with it?"

Even though he made his usual joke, no one answered.

In the Round Table hall, only the silver weapons floated there in silence.

"...It's probably wrong to want to see things through to the very end. But I've been entrusted with the final part, so I hope I can at least leave something behind."

It wasn't his usual carefree attitude — the Third Generation's true feelings were spilling out.