The silver gauntlet let out a roar as it shattered the head and torso of the corpse person standing in front of it.
Inside every corpse person was a core insect, and unless it was crushed, blowing away the head or heart wouldn't deliver a killing blow. —In that case, all he had to do was strike in a way that sent shockwaves rippling through the entire body.
"Over here!"
Up until now, he'd prioritized simply landing his fists with brute force, never once thinking about the result that came after. But now, he revised that approach.
He visualized the waves of impact generated by his fists propagating through the opponent's entire body. By doing so, the way he threw his punches, and the results they produced, began to change.
"—!"
There was a tremor that ran up through his back, and the corpse person's body lagged behind the point of impact before its entire form shattered into dust all at once. The shock had traveled through its whole body—a sign that the core insect had been killed.
Without letting go of what he'd grasped, he met the swarm of countless corpse people closing in with his fists.
One, two, three—the number of corpse people he was shattering grew exponentially.
"Hey, kid! Cut it out already—there's no end to this, you know!"
A gruff voice called out to his back as Garfiel stood his ground, continuing to throw punches at the corpse people.
Heinkel, wielding a finely crafted sword and dealing with the corpse people that slipped past, was fighting desperately even as both his hair and face were tattered and torn.
At Heinkel's whining, almost petulant voice, Garfiel's mouth twisted into a grin.
If he wanted to run, he was free to run—yet here he was, dutifully holding his ground.
He'd insisted it was safer with Garfiel here than fleeing alone, but it was hard to believe that argument still held in this dire a situation.
After all, this was—the main gate of the Imperial Capital, the very chokepoint holding back the massive army of corpse people pouring in from beyond, the key to the capital's defense.
"I can't leave! I gotta hold this spot—if I don't, it'll mess up the big guys' plan!"
That was why Garfiel's duty was to defend this position to the last.
Heinkel clicked his tongue at Garfiel's answer—fists pressed together before his chest in fierce determination. His expression was bitter and sour as he snarled, "But...!"
"If you're just doing your job, you'd have an easier time falling back! There's no reason for you to stay here—just leave that dragon alone!"
Heinkel swung his sword to clear away a corpse person, then pointed its tip toward 'Cloud Dragon'
Though Mezoreia was ostensibly on the corpse people's side, they showed no mercy toward the fallen 'Cloud Dragon' either—if left alone, the dragon's scales would be stained with blood.
"Can't do that!"
"Why not?! She's the enemy! Just let them tear each other apart!"
"I don't wanna disappoint the boss!"
At Garfiel's childlike answer, Heinkel's face went rigid with disbelief.
But it was pure, unvarnished truth. In this fight too, Subaru wanted to minimize casualties—to bring them as close to zero as possible. Garfiel wanted to help with that.
And besides, he still hadn't exchanged anything resembling a proper conversation with 'Cloud Dragon' Mezoreia.
So— "I ain't movin'! Come at me, you corpse people freaks!"
He roared with all his might, slamming his gauntlets together to produce a thunderous sound.
If the corpse people heard that and came flooding toward the source of all that vibrant life force, that was fine by him.
"Yeah, that's it. Come on—all you tough ones, come at me!"
The more he held his ground, the easier it would be for the people who mattered to him.
"Seriously... something's wrong with you."
Heinkel's face was twisted as he listened to Garfiel's war cry. —Behind him, unnoticed, the fallen 'Cloud Dragon' stirred ever so slightly.
△▼△▼△▼△ When she was gently lifted from the bed, Madeline knew this was the end. —Because standing before her, Valoi had a horrible, gaping hole in his chest.
He was a corpse person now. Madeline knew that fatal wounds didn't work as simple fatal wounds on them. But the wound that should have closed immediately hadn't—and she could sense Valoi's will in that.
Her husband—the man she loved—was leaving once more, beyond the reach of her hands. Far beyond the clouds, to a place even more distant than the sky above, a place that Madeline, the dragon who ruled the clouds, could never reach.
"—I'm sorry, Madeline."
Valoi's words, his expression softening at the corners of his eyes, made Madeline's eyes widen ever so slightly.
That expression overlapped perfectly with the one he'd worn in life, before their reunion as a corpse person and a living woman. Of course, his eyes were still black with flecks of gold, his complexion still the pallid blue of the undead.
And yet, for just an instant, it seemed as though a trace of that old warmth had returned to his gaze and his voice.
The same warmth he'd shown when he'd come to visit Madeline at the summit of the Palzoa Mountains, time and time again.
—The fact that she herself was the one who had robbed him of that warmth filled her with an anguish that cut to her core.
"—!"
Choked by helplessness and inadequacy, Madeline's golden eyes glistened.
She, alive but weak, met the gaze of Valoi, dead but strong—and in his same-colored eyes, she saw her own reflection as he said: "Right to the very end, I've been selfish. And with that selfishness, I put you through so much, Madeline."
He had made his decision. He had chosen his farewell. And now Valoi stood beside Madeline.
This was his opening statement. Madeline understood instinctively what would follow—an apology, words of gratitude.
Yes, she understood. And that was precisely why— "Stop it, I tell you...!"
"Madeline?"
"Apologies, gratitude—all of it, stop it right now...!"
Her teeth chattering, she forcibly evaporated the tears that welled in her eyes as she pleaded.
Half of her consciousness was still tethered to her dragon shell, preventing her limbs from gathering strength. But she overpowered that limitation through sheer willpower, seizing Valoi's arm—the arm that was holding her up.
She gripped it so hard that his arm—his corpse person's arm—cracked and began to crumble.
But what she wanted to convey with that grip wasn't anger or hatred or anything of the sort. Only her own will—the will that burned within her heart.
"If you say you've been selfish, then the most selfish thing you ever did, Valoi, was disappearing without permission! You came to the dragon's nest without permission, made yourself important to the dragon without permission, then died without permission and left without permission... and now you're planning to leave without permission again!"
"——"
"I've had enough of your selfishness! So then... so then! I won't allow any more of it! Not your farewells or your gratitude... I want to hear the dragon's words!"
Even as his arm was being crushed in her grip, Valoi silently gazed at Madeline.
Meeting his golden eyes with her own—same color, different light—Madeline declared: "—Valoi, you gave the dragon a way out into the world."
"—!"
At Madeline's words, Valoi's eyes went wide.
Caught off guard by what she'd said, Valoi looked genuinely flustered. It was the first time Madeline had ever seen that expression on his face. Even on the face of a corpse person, seeing a new side of the one you loved brought joy.
As if to sear every last detail into her powerful dragonkin body, Madeline continued: "The dragon came out into the world. Valoi, you made that happen. You led the dragon out beneath the open sky."
"——"
"The dragon wasn't dragged along for the ride. The dragon was able to come down from the mountain, able to speak with Valoi like this again... all of it was because of you, Valoi."
If only she had chosen sooner. There was no shortage of regrets like that.
If only they had talked more, touched more. There was no shortage of laments like that.
Even so, not a single thing—neither the choice she'd made, nor the words they'd spoken, nor the moments they'd shared—did she wish to let go.
"Everything you gave me... you led the dragon out into the world, Valoi."
She would not let Valoi waste the time he had left on apologies and farewells.
She did not want to use their remaining time together to hear or deny such hollow words. If ten seconds remained, Madeline would use every one of those ten seconds— "I love you, Valoi. You are the dragon's everything. There is nothing in this world I love more than you. You are... the dragon's everything."
"Madeline..."
"Valoi, Valoi, Valoi...!"
—She would spend every last second telling the person she loved that she loved him.
She wanted him to respond. She wanted him to ask for it. She wanted him to hold the same blazing heat within himself that she did.
She cast away every troublesome complication of love and became a pure mass of devotion.
Whether anyone tried to diminish Valoi, or whether Valoi himself wished it, Madeline would absolutely not allow it. She refused to.
With every last shred of her life as a dragonkin, Madeline loved Valoi Temegrif.
"A dragonkin's lifespan is incomparably longer than a human's."
For that vast stretch of time—what would seem like eternity compared to a human life—Madeline would live thinking of Valoi Temegrif, whom she had engraved upon her soul.
She wanted him to know that he had left behind something of that magnitude.
"—. Where do you even find someone willing to put up with a worthless man like me?" Valoi murmured, self-deprecating.
Madeline didn't answer.
She pressed her forehead against his chest, too consumed with expressing her feelings to bother with answering the question of a man who couldn't even recognize his own worth. He could figure that out on his own, for all she cared.
It seemed her will had gotten through to him. Valoi let out a long, slow breath.
And then— "Forgetting you? Even if I wanted to, I couldn't. Yes, I know that better than anyone. So don't worry about me forgetting. Just—"
"——"
"Be happy, Madeline. My beloved, precious dragon princess."
For the first time in her life, Madeline was openly and definitively rejected by the one she loved.
△▼△▼△▼△ "—Well, Your Excellency? Our little sister is quite something, isn't she?"
Valoi's voice, not concealing his satisfaction, drew everyone's attention at the ruined turret. —No, not everyone. Everyone except Medium.
The audacity she showed, pressing down on Vincent's hand as he reached for the 'Yang Sword,' was extraordinary.
If an unworthy being were to carelessly grasp the 'Yang Sword,' they would burn to ashes. It was a plea that bordered on death. Then again, that was probably the only way to get through to Vincent.
To an emperor who understood that his own life was the most important in the empire, yet understood the value of that life least of all.
"That's right!"
Medium, the only one who hadn't followed everyone else's lead, drew the barbarian sword from behind her hip and deftly struck the green glow of the magic core atop the pedestal—Moguro—knocking it into the air.
Spinning gracefully, it traced a gentle arc and landed in Valoi's raised hand. After confirming its heat and weight, Valoi looked at Vincent.
Vincent had lowered the tip of the 'Yang Sword' and was staring straight at Valoi.
"——"
For a moment, Valoi watched a complex tapestry of colors weave through Vincent's black eyes, and he thought: this emperor needed Medium.
He needed someone to support his back as he narrowed his choices and made the best of what he'd selected—someone to stand beside him and smile as they looked toward the future. —Though Valoi, who had taken Chisha from him, had no right to say such things.
Or perhaps if it was
Perhaps that was thinking too much, and with a bitter smile, Valoi said: "Medi."
Reading his intention, Medium jogged over. Valoi entrusted the dragonkin girl he had been holding in one arm this whole time to her.
The precious girl who, in the haze between dream and waking, had continued telling Valoi of her love.
The girl who had fallen asleep again, exhausted from crying—the girl for whom Valoi had become an eternal wound.
"Big bro Valoi."
"What is it?"
Medium accepted Madeline's body gently, then looked up at Valoi. And then, with the face he knew so well, she beamed like the sun.
"Do your best!"
"—. Yeah, I'll do my best."
Who would believe that a corpse person's body brimmed with vitality?
Nobody would—and yet drawing strength from that, Valoi turned his back with fierce determination. He strode to the edge of the ruined turret wall where his beloved dragon waited, mounted her back, and beat his wings.
In an instant, the rushing wind carried Karion skyward, their altitude rising sharply.
Higher and higher they soared, Valoi and Karion surging toward the clouds above.
The sound of wind faded, and they were enveloped in a vacuum of concentration—the sensation of flight.
"Valoi, two of us—not right. I am here."
"Oh, that's right. My apologies."
Held tight in his fist, the magic core—Moguro—issued that protest, and Valoi smiled wryly.
Known as the 'Steel Man' among the 'Nine Divine Generals,' and despite his inorganic appearance and manner of speaking, Moguro had been dutiful, understanding, and probably kind.
"I am the empire's '
"—Purpose of creation."
The words Moguro chose to convey that reason were, ironically, the same ones
Sphinx, who sought to destroy the empire to fulfill her purpose of creation. Moguro, who sought to protect the empire for the same. And Valoi, who wavered between them, unable to fully commit to either.
"Why did you betray us, Valoi?"
"Ha—"
A straight, dead-center question. Valoi could only laugh—it was so perfectly Moguro.
Whether the question referred to his betrayal in life or after death—or whether Moguro didn't even distinguish between the two—he couldn't say. If anything, Valoi preferred it that way.
Whether in life or in death, Valoi's reason for choosing to stand against the empire was the same.
"—For the sake of someone precious to me."
Perhaps because the end was so close, or perhaps because he'd come to think of this inorganic 'Meteor' as something akin to an easygoing friend, Valoi spoke those words.
It was probably the first time he'd said it with genuine feeling, and he hadn't intended to say it to anyone.
"—!"
As if sensing the shame Valoi felt, Karion glanced back at him as she soared through the sky, and Valoi nodded in return. It was a sign he could share with Karion alone, given her nature as a sky dragon rider. —No, it seemed Medium had seen through him too. Either way, it had been something he'd kept locked away.
He imagined Moguro couldn't feel great about having it revealed either, but— "I see. I understand. We are the same. —For someone precious. That is why."
"——"
"Valoi, I, forgive you."
Moguro's forgiveness—still inorganic, yet reaching out to stand beside him—stiffened Valoi's cheeks.
Color returned to those cheeks—the color of a living being, not a corpse person—and his eyes regained their natural gleam, no longer the black-and-gold of the undead. —It was Valoi Temegrif's final radiance.
"Thank you, Moguro."
As a dead man no different from the living, Valoi looked up at the sky.
Higher and higher they accelerated, punching through the clouds. The clouds they pierced seemed to come alive, swirling and beginning to close in around them.
This was something Valoi had seen long ago atop the Palzoa Mountains—not something to crush, but a dragon's nest, designed to keep what was inside from getting out.
"—!"
Faces flooded Valoi's mind.
Vincent. The Nine Divine Generals. Madeline. Serina. Medium. Flop.
The proof that Valoi had lived. The meaning of Valoi's life.
Embracing all of it, together with his beloved dragon Karion— "It's been a life of ups and downs, but it wasn't a bad one."
"—!"
Even his final words came out incomplete, drawing a reprimand from his beloved dragon—a fitting end for a man who couldn't even get his deathbed declaration right.
△▼△▼△▼△ In an instant, the dragon claws drove into the ground, and the fallen body lurched upward with tremendous force. The red-haired man nearby let out a "Whoaah!?" and fell on his rear, but paid no mind.
Compared to what was happening now, such trivialities didn't matter.
'Valoi—!' The shock of the blow had been too great—he couldn't possibly stand. But standing wasn't what he needed. What he needed wasn't the strength to rise, but the power of a being who presided over the heavens.
He shook his long beard, focused his sharp eyes, and directed his consciousness straight up to the sky above the Crystal Palace. A beam of light shot straight upward, drawing a green line across the sky. At the very top of that line, rising ever higher—there, someone precious waited.
He forgave that will, that resolve, that determination, that selfishness.
'—!' The power erupting from his massive body interfered with the heavens, and clouds began to swirl in the sky above the Crystal Palace. They welcomed the green light into their vortex, thickening rapidly as the rotation accelerated.
And so 'Cloud Dragon' Mezoreia—Madeline—squeezed out every last ounce of her strength.
'—ah.' In a flash, the world blazed white as the swirling clouds were torn apart from within.
What it meant. What had been lost from the world. What was receding from her. She felt it all clearly—painfully, unbearably clearly.
'Ah, ahh, ahhh, ahhhhh—!!' Looking up at the sky where the clouds had scattered, thinking of the beloved who no longer remained even as a trace, Madeline—using the great mouth and thick neck of the 'Cloud Dragon'—wept without restraint.
—The dragon maiden, heartbroken in love, continued to weep beneath a sky so clear it was almost hateful.