CHAPTER 5
Banquet of Evil
The darkness hummed. Squeezed into tunnels like ants in a colony were the mad followers of evil. Those who hated the world and had lost faith in their fellow man. Those whose loved ones were stolen by death, and those led only by a sadistic pleasure. Whatever their motive, all of them were gathered here, on the fourth of the Seven Days of Death.
They could barely contain their excitement. Their victories over Orario on the night of the Great Conflict still burned fresh in their minds, and now they were gazing upon the face of their leader at last—the evil that had guided them here. He stood above them, on an upper part of the underground waterways that jutted out like a balcony.
“That’s right,” he said. “This is the sound of those who fight against evil. Dying yet unbroken. The Promised Land. You can always trust Orario to stretch out a few more seconds of tortuous existence.”
He didn’t seem angered by the city’s tenacity. If anything, he looked amused.
“That’s rich comin’ from you,” said Valletta with a wide grin. “Like you ain’t the one with a way to finish ’em off for good.”
Erebus had planned out the entire war, from the beginning of the Great Conflict to the mass exodus of so many gods. Yet there was more to his divine plan that had not been executed. Valletta licked her lips in anticipation.
“Valletta Grede. Or should I call you Arachnia,” said Erebus, calmly noting her presence. “Oh, I know. But credit where credit is due. This city’s greatest protectors have turned against them, and still the adventurers do not lay down their swords. Even without stars to guide them, they fight, as do the gods of light who watch over them. Why, is this not truly the City of Heroes, as they say?”
But Valletta only grew spiteful at the dark god’s reverent, even evangelical words.
“Who cares?” she spat. “All the heroes in the world couldn’t a hold a candle to your darkness! Finn, Ottar, the lot of ’em!”
That was not just a compliment paid by Valletta to her dark master; it was the undeniable truth. She shivered with joy as she spoke.
“We can’t get enough of your wicked schemes!” she cried. “Can we?!”
She turned to the dark host huddled in the chamber below, spreading her arms in reverence.
“Erebus! May his reign be eternal!”
“Glory to the Evils!”
“Lord Erebus!”
“Destroy Orario!”
“Grant us our wish!”
“Deliver us the grace of darkness!!”
The cavern air trembled with their praise. They cried out with mad, unending zeal, beseeching their sinister god.
“Thank you, my friends. Though your praise pales in comparison to the sounds of the heroes, nevertheless, I have heard it.”
Even when he spoke dismissively of the devotion of his followers, Erebus’s divine charisma could not be stopped. The enchanting tones of his voice, like the apple that tempted mankind, seized their hearts and refused to let go.
“Then let it be so,” he said. “Let the fire in your hearts ignite new kindling: the very foundations of this city. Let us not be hasteful or rash, but slow and deliberate, as we construct the walls of hell around Orario.”
The joyous voices erupted into cheers. At the unveiling of their dark master’s plan, the fanatical followers of evil trembled with delight, and some even cried. The darkness had reached its zenith at last.
However, one voice among them lashed out in anger.
“What is the meaning of this?!”
It was Olivas, another of the Evils’ commanders. He strode over to Erebus, fists clenched.
“Slow and deliberate? Orario is weak! We must strike fast, before they can finish licking their wounds! Is that not so, Erebus?!”
It was Valletta who responded to that on the dark god’s behalf.
“Didn’t Erebus already get it through your thick skull, Olivas? The longer we wait, the longer the wretched townsfolk drain the city’s resources. Plus, phase two of the plan is almost ready. Keep it in your pants until then, eh?”
“Grr! Need I remind you,” replied Olivas, his face twisted with rage, “that Orario is not our only foe?! The world expects this city to slay the Black Dragon. They will not stand idly by and watch its demise!”
Orario was known as the center of the world for a reason. It was the seal that kept monsters trapped within the Dungeon. Very few outside the Evils themselves wished to see it destroyed.
“And even though the merchants were sympathetic to our aims, not all of them could be convinced! If neighboring countries send reinforcements, our siege will surely be broken!”
“Well, why do you think we spent all that time acquiring believers in foreign lands?” said Vito, adding his voice to the debate. “How will the other cities have resources to spare when they’re dealing with an outbreak of unprecedented riots all at the same time? My, what a coincidence.”
The faintest trace of a grin flashed across his otherwise unremarkable face.
“That should buy us some time,” he said. “More than enough time to bring about Orario’s downfall in as slow and agonizing a manner as we like.”
This war was the culmination of years of hard work. Much of that was the recruitment of fanatical followers—the Faithful—from the lands around Orario. Some were lured with false promises by Thanatos, the god of death, while others were coerced through the taking of hostages, or else promoted from small-time villain into the big leagues.
On the night of the Great Conflict and thereafter, these Faithful were inspired to commit local acts of mass terrorism, even in far-off regions like the Empire. Though they boasted little combat ability, they were all bestowed bombs just like those used in Orario, and were told to wreak destruction all across the land.
While the attacks were unlikely to topple any of these cities, none boasted a mighty force of adventurers like Orario did to help in restoring public order, and so it would be a long time before any of them could even think about sending reinforcements.
“Everyone’s gotta help themselves before they can help others,” said Valletta, picking up the rest of Vito’s argument. “Even if one or two of ’em manage to put down the riots and send someone over, they’ll only be Level Two at best. Nothin’ to piss our pants over.”
There wasn’t a single trace of worry in her sneering voice.
“That academic district could be a pain in the ass,” she went on, “but it’s far off in the east. Couple of cities nearby go up in flames, and that should keep those good-natured schoolchildren busy.”
She smiled a venomous smile, like a spider grinning at its helpless, web-tangled prey.
“Besides, we can’t flatten Orario alone. We need those two monsters to help us.”
The monsters Valletta was referring to were none other than Orario’s twin conquerors, the children of Zeus and Hera. Despite her side’s overwhelming superiority, Valletta remained humble. She knew that Orario still possessed the advantage when it came to combined military might and that she needed to wait until it was the perfect moment to strike.
She knew when to play her cards and when to keep them close to her chest. That was why even Finn respected her cunning mind.
“We’re all just ants standing on the shoulders of them two giants. Except you, of course. You’re a fly buzzin’ round their heads, pissin’ everyone off.”
“Valletta! I’ll tear that insolent tongue from your throat!”
Finally, Olivas could take the woman’s mocking no longer. Red-faced with rage, he stormed over to her, fists raised. However, at that moment, their god broke his protracted silence to interject.
“Tell me, Olivas,” he said. “What do you think evil is?”
“Wh-what?” Olivas stuttered, bewildered by the sudden question.
Erebus faced away, toward his followers, staring into the darkness.
“Is it injustice? Is it savagery?”
“Wh…?”
“I don’t think so,” said Erebus. “These are simply paths to evil, not its essence.”
Erebus, the primordial darkness, expounded on the nature of evil. It was not his domain, but he had his own little theories on its nature, as if he were a traveler from another world. A wandering philosopher. Or a god, cruel yet free of sin, like an amoral child.
“To me,” he said with a grin, “to be evil is to be hated.”
“To be hated?”
Olivas found himself caked in a cold sweat. Even Valletta and Vito didn’t dare interrupt their god when he was speaking. The flock below awaited Erebus’s next words with bated breath.
Finally, he turned to face his lieutenants.
“And absolute evil,” he said, “is to return all to nothing.”
“Rghh!”
Under the scrutiny of his master’s eyes, Olivas forgot how to breathe.
“Lives, cities, empires. Even time itself. True evil is to undo all this universe has created. Extinction. Extermination. To smash the very scales which hold life and death in their precious equilibrium. That is absolute evil.”
Erebus continued preaching to his little lost lamb as the eyes and ears of his followers remained glued to his every word and action.
“So do not concern yourself with the accumulation of petty evils, but with evil’s grandest execution. That is what I, your dark god, have proclaimed.”
Before he knew it, the god was walking toward him, and soon Erebus’s divine features lay just inches from Olivas’s face. His master’s eyes gazed deeply into his own, and Olivas saw in them an interminable abyss into which he might topple and never return.
“Ugh… Ah…”
“And for that,” said Erebus, “the time is not yet right.”
With that, the dark god finally drew away. He returned to his balcony, addressing his followers.
“My wise friends,” he said. “I ask for your patience.”
The crowd was silent as he spoke, all chilled into submission by his divine presence. The only ones who could even muster a smile through their nervous trembling were Vito and Valletta.
“Now come, Vito,” said Erebus. “Join me for a walk, will you?”
“You do ask the strangest things, my lord. It really is taxing, serving as your follower.”
Vito sighed. The whims of a god were about as predictable as those of a cat. As he and Erebus turned to leave, it was Valletta, leaning against the wall, who called out to her master.
“Not so fast, Erebus,” she said. “All you gotta do is sit on your throne and look pretty, puttin’ the fear of god into those suckers down there. Where the hell do you think you’re goin’?”
Even before the Great Conflict began, Erebus had a habit of running off by himself, much to the chagrin of his followers, who concerned themselves with his safety. And at a time like this, when it was all but certain that agents of Orario would be trying to track down their location, the risk was even greater.
But Erebus showed little appreciation for Valletta’s prudence. “The little boys’ room,” he replied. “No girls allowed. Run along now.”
He made a shooing gesture without turning back, then spoke to Vito.
“Now come, friend. Let us go drain the snakes, as they say.”
With that, the dark god and his chosen lieutenant vanished into the darkness.
“Tch… That bastard’s too damn sharp…” Valletta said, a frustrated grin spread across her face. Then she, too, departed, leaving only Olivas.
“Grh…!”
He scowled, irritated, while his fists shook like powder kegs on the verge of violent explosion.
“I tell you, it’s a lot of hard work being the emperor with no clothes, Vito.”
The gray clouds were beginning to thin. Erebus gazed absentmindedly up as he walked through ruined streets alongside his lieutenant and filled his lungs with the fresh, morning air.
“Now, what could that possibly mean, my lord?” asked Vito, offering a theatrical shrug. Opening his eye a hair’s breadth, he peered back at his master. “You have this city under your thumb, and still you fancy yourself the foolish emperor? What a troublesome tyrant you are.”
“A tyrant? How flattering,” Erebus chuckled. “I should use that one on the ladies. A tyrant in the bedsheets…now that’s a real emperor with no clothes! Ha-ha-ha!”
Vito could only stare, a silent smile plastered on his face.
“…Tough crowd. Oh, lighten up, my dear Vito,” said Erebus with an exaggerated shrug. “Your indifference wounds me most deeply.”
The atmosphere was strange. Despite his role as their dark lord, leading Orario to destruction, Erebus was friendly, jovial, and easy to get along with. Of course, Vito understood that this was simply one aspect of the god’s personality, one he adopted when conversing with mortals. Similarly, there was another facet that was impossibly cold and brutal. Primordial darkness. It was no less true a part of Erebus than the one Vito spoke with now. Before the Great Conflict, he called himself Eren. Was that a mask or a whole other facet of his being? It was ridiculous to even ask. A god had hundreds upon hundreds of faces, inconsistent and contradictory. To inquire which were real and which were fake was a foolish and impossible question.
“I shall try,” Vito replied. “By the way, not to be an annoying fly, but what happened to our friends Glutton and Silence?”
The two had not been seen since the night of the Great Conflict.
“Who knows?” replied Erebus, completely unconcerned. “Probably off gallivanting somewhere. You know what Zeus and Hera were like.”
“You’re the one who invited them, my lord… Sigh. You gods are simply too carefree for my liking.”
Just then, a party of adventurers on patrol spotted the pair.
“Over there! The Evils? And it’s…their god?! C-call for reinforcements! Let Finn know we’ve spotted the enemy leader!”
But Erebus was calm—disconcertingly so—as the adventurers all drew their weapons and took up formation.
“Whoopsie-daisy, here they come,” he said. “Take care of them, would you, Vito? I’d like to enjoy my walk a little longer.”
“Yes, yes,” replied Vito with another sigh. “I’ve long grown used to your demanding nature by now.”
Vito stepped forward to uphold the trust his master placed in him.
“Rest assured, my lord, that not a single whisper of our presence shall find its way to our enemy strategist’s ears. All shall be swallowed in darkness—just the way you like it.”
The ensuing fight was no battle at all. It was a slaughter.
“Aaagh!!”
“Huh? Gurk!!”
“Aaaaaaargh!!”
Vito slashed throats, skewered hearts, and impaled his opponents in the face. In just a few short seconds, the adventurers were transformed into blood fountains. Vito tore through them armed with only a single knife.
“Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!” Vito laughed. “Weak! So weak! Level Two adventurers come apart so easily!”
He hacked off limbs, filling the air with crimson blood.
“If only you could live to see me! See the contradiction I am! A man who despises oppression, but adores the sound of screams!”
His eyes were clearer than those of a serial killer. They were more like a child’s, innocent and pure.
“Looks like you enjoyed that, Vito,” said Erebus when it was all over. Bloodstains splattered the rubble, and five corpses littered the ground. The dark god was viscerally reminded of his follower’s ill nature as he glanced over the scene.
“Oh, I do apologize for my unseemly behavior,” said Vito. He covered his mouth with his hand for a moment, and when he took it away, his cold smile had returned.
However, Erebus seemed not disturbed but delighted. “It bothers me not, my friend. I find it curious how your eyes sparkle even while slitting the throats of your fellow man.”
At this, Vito began to chuckle.
“Heh-heh-heh. Heh-heh-heh-heh! Well, you gods certainly bother me! For it was you who made this world with all its delicious defects!”
“………”
“Yes, defects like me. You gaze down from your world of perfection and marvel at my inconsistencies!”
When he looked at Erebus, it was with such noble reverence that words like “love” and “hate” didn’t seem to cut it.
“But you…” he said, pointing at his dark master. “You, I accept. You, I love! For you alone promise to return this broken world to oblivion, where it belongs!”
However, Erebus smoothly deflected his follower’s twisted affections.
“I’m afraid only women get me going.”
He began walking once more, strolling aimlessly through the floor of bodies. Vito said nothing more, either, and followed.
“And if I’m to love, it needs to be a proud, strong woman with an unbreakable heart.”
His bangs danced around his eyes. Erebus smiled.
“There’s nothing—nothing—I love more than to see a grown woman weeping, her face twisted in despair.”
A sadistic grin crept across his lips.
“Now, where are you, Leon?”
There was a flash of steel.
“Gagh!!”
A short cry, and the last cultist fell.
In district seven, the city’s northwest, quite far from the center, Lyu had just finished off the last of a cultist warband that had been dominating the area. She cast her eyes downward. Her wooden sword seemed like it would slip from her grasp at any moment.
I still haven’t been back to see Alize… she thought to herself. I’ve been running all over the city, cutting down Evils like it’s my life’s mission…
Her face paled with exhaustion. Even her mask couldn’t hide it.
How many enemies were left in the city? And what was she even doing? Lyu addressed those questions to the innermost depths of her heart, but there was no reply. The state of Lyu’s mind was perfectly reflected in the wreckage-strewn streets around her.
“Stay with me, my love! Stay with me!”
“Urgh…”
A voice drew Lyu’s attention to a pair of humans. A woman and her husband. The husband was lying on the ground, clutching his severed arm stump still pouring out blood. These were the two people that Lyu had been fighting to protect a few moments prior.
“Are you okay?” asked Lyu.
“Of course he’s not okay!” the woman shouted. “Are you blind?! Why didn’t you get here faster?! What’s the point of having adventurers if you can’t do your damn jobs?!”
Tears filled the woman’s eyes as she screamed. Lyu couldn’t find it in her to say a word.
Anger and condemnation. It was something Lyu had seen and heard almost constantly these past few days. Whatever she gave of herself, it was never enough to escape their furious eyes. To silence their resentful voices. Voices tinged with sorrow. Eyes laced with tears.
Steeped in her own powerlessness, Lyu took a flask from her pocket and handed it to the couple.
“Here, a potion,” she said. “Use this.”
Then she turned and walked away without another word. The camp was not far from here, and adventurers would surely be here before long. Thus, Lyu departed, like a ghost, down ruined streets.
“Never a word of thanks—only criticism,” she said to herself, her voice passing through cracked lips. “Even after I told myself I didn’t need a reward…”
The people’s complaints no longer bothered her. In fact, she found herself agreeing with them. The proud young elf was now a master of emotional mutilation, and without a vision of justice she could cling to, it was easier than ever to fall into a dark spiral of abuse and self-pity.
“I still find myself hoping, only for that hope to be betrayed. I never knew it could feel so…empty.”
As she spoke those words, a voice flashed through her mind, as if the darkness itself were laughing at her.
“Don’t you mean, when your sense of justice withers?”
“…!!”
It was the voice of a man—a god—who had once gone by the name of Eren.
“It can’t be easy working such a thankless job, and without pay to boot.”
“I don’t think it’s healthy. In fact, I’m worried about you.”
It wasn’t only one line that shot through Lyu’s mind but a whole slew of them, echoing and laughing at her as if from on high.
“You’re all gung ho about it now, but what happens after you burn out?”
“Would you still say the same?”
“If you deny yourself riches, deny yourself fame—deny yourself even a moment of gratitude—why, then it’s not justice you seek but loneliness!”
His words whirled around her mind, as if asking her, How does it feel? How does it feel now that your thanks and reward are truly gone?
“Shut up… Shut up! Go away!”
Lyu shook her head fiercely, desperate to rid herself of this nightmare, screaming at nothing yet unable to answer the question. When she stopped, all that remained were her own ragged breaths and a pounding in her head that wouldn’t go away.
His words…they’re like poison. I can’t get them out of my head!
Inside her mind, a swollen evil gorged itself on a hollow justice. Lyu fought to stop it. She reminded herself of what she swore by the wings and scales upon her very back. But a bitter disappointment caused her to screw up her face.
I can’t keep doing it… I can’t go on fighting it…
She hung her head like a broken puppet. Before she knew it, she had stopped walking and begun sinking into a bottomless void.
“Leon!”
Like an arm reaching to pull her free, a voice rang out. Lyu lifted her head to see a girl running toward her. Another young woman wearing a white cloak.
“Andromeda?”
“I finally found you, Leon! I need your help!”
Asfi quickly explained the situation to Lyu.
“We need to track down Erebus and the other enemy leaders! Evils forces are stationed all along the walls, mocking us and trapping us in the city, but I think their leaders have to be somewhere underground! They’re probably using the waterways to—”
Knowing at last what it was she had to do, Asfi looked like she was sparkling. Lyu, meanwhile, couldn’t find the words to respond.
“Andromeda,” she said at last. “Forget me. Find someone else to help.”
“Wh-what?”
“I can’t do it. Not now. I’ll only slow you down.”
Lyu didn’t even lift her head to meet Asfi’s gaze. The blue-haired girl wasn’t sure what to say.
“I’m too weak to protect anyone,” Lyu went on. “All I can do is watch people die…like Ardee.”
“!”
Asfi gasped.
“Leon,” she said in terror. “What’s happened to your eyes?”
The elf girl’s sky-blue eyes emitted a sinister gloom. It looked like she was about to join the march of the dead. Asfi grabbed her by the shoulders and twisted Lyu to face herself.
“You can’t give up, Leon. You can’t rot away. Look at me!” she yelled. “We need you. We need all of you! If Astrea Familia falls to despair, then what’s left?! We need your justice to hold out, or there’ll be no hope for any of us!”
Asfi laid her worries bare, pleading with Lyu, hoping against hope that she’d listen. The only thing holding Orario together was the belief that good would eventually triumph over evil. If even Lyu stopped believing that, it would all fall apart.
Lyu, however, seemed deaf to her pleas.
“…Shut up. What do you know?!” yelled Lyu, sweeping her arm. “That’s easy for you to say!”
“Leon…!”
Asfi’s face grew grim, but she couldn’t give up. She reached out a hand to the lost elf girl, but at that moment there was a devastating explosion.
““!!””
Lyu and Asfi both managed to leap aside in time, and they turned to see a group of Evils cultists.
“The Gale Wind, and Perseus, both in the same place!”
“Off with the heads of those damned upper-class adventurers! Charge!”
The Evils let out a battle cry and came storming down a hill of rubble. Lyu shot a wicked glare their way.
“Leave me alone,” she spat at Asfi. “All I can do now…is fight!”
And with that, she rushed the enemy, wooden sword in hand.
“All I can do,” she cried, “is take out as many of these villains as possible!”
On making contact, she immediately flattened the cultist in front, carving a channel through the sea of foes.
“Leon!” Asfi called out after her. “Wait! Come back! Leon!!”
She drew her sword and charged after her, but Lyu was like a berserker with no sense of self-preservation, and it was impossible to keep up with her frightening agility. All Asfi could do was watch from behind as Lyu cut down one foe after another.
And staring down at them from above was an ashen sky that concealed the heavens. The girls cried, for they could not see the stars.
“Are these all the supplies we have?”
Neze looked surprised at the dismal quantity of resources handed to her. Despite her best efforts, a trace of disappointment slipped into her voice.
“I’m deeply sorry. We’ll have the blacksmiths repair your weapons. Try to make it last, please.”
The man, a human adventurer with a large frame, hung his head in apology.
Astrea Familia had come to an evacuee camp just northeast of the city center. It was one of the many designated resupply points where the girls could reequip themselves with items and equipment for the battles ahead.
“Make it last?! These won’t last us more than a couple fights!”
The pouch Neze had been given contained only three health potions and one magic potion, the latter of which was only half-full. If this was only for Neze, that would be one thing, but she was expected to share this with the others in her familia—a total of eight people. It wasn’t nearly enough. Her fellow party members voiced their objections as well.
“There’s no way we can keep fighting on the front lines if this is all we have,” said the human girl, Noin.
“What d’ya think we are, slaves you can just use and throw away?” added the Amazon, Iska.
The girls had been pushing themselves for several days straight now. Even if the blacksmiths could repair their equipment immediately, the toll on their minds and bodies was still a major problem. There was only so much they could do to keep spirits high, too.
This wasn’t a new problem. The girls had known for some time that supplies were running out, but this felt like being asked to do the impossible, and all they wanted to do was scream.
However, at that moment, a voice seemingly blissfully numb to the bleakness of the circumstances took them all by surprise.
“We mustn’t be greedy, girls!”
“““Gweh?”””
“Noble poverty is the foundation of justice! Just think back to our group’s early days, when we had to scrimp and save for everything!”
It was Alize, puffing out her modest chest as her crimson ponytail flared out behind her. For some reason, she wore the proudest-looking grin in the entire world.
“I mean, this is nothing compared to that time we lost all our money on a Dungeon run, and for seven days and seven nights, all we could feed Lady Astrea was bland soup made from a few wild herbs and some salt, and she ate it every day with a smile and told us it was totally fine and not to look so sad and—”
“Please, stop!!”
“What are you doing, digging up our painful past, Captain?!”
Critical hit! Neze covered her blushing face with her hands and fainted in agony. The other girls did likewise and rolled around groaning on the floor while the towering adventurer who had brought them their resupply looked on awkwardly.
After a short period of groans and moans, the girls began to laugh.
“Tee-hee.” Marieux, the big sister of the party, chuckled. “You’re right. If we compare what we have now to what we had then, it doesn’t seem so bad.”
“If it comes to it, we can always chew on herbs again!” added the elven spellcaster, Celty, with joy in her voice. In no time at all, the gloomy atmosphere had been completely dispelled, and all the smiles returned to the girls’ faces.
“Grr, goddammit!” said Neze, disheveling her hair. “All right, fine! We’ll do it! Happy now, Captain?”
“Absolutely! We’ll make it work with wisdom and determination!”
Having restored her familia’s morale, Alize smiled from ear to ear. The towering adventurer, impressed by this display of courage, said, “Thank you! I’m sorry. We’ll do everything we can to support you.”
“All right, everyone!” declared Alize. “Go get ready, and we’ll meet up back here when it’s time to move out!”
At her words, Neze and the other girls left to get their equipment in order and catch up on what little sleep they could.
“………”
As soon as they were gone, Alize dropped her smile and stared despondently into space. As a familia captain, and a second-class adventurer, she couldn’t let anyone see the struggles she was enduring. She gazed up at the clouded-over sky.
According to the Guild, the official number of dead and wounded is over thirty thousand. And that’s only the ones we know about.
Alize slipped away into a back alley, where no one could see her as the sadness overcame her heart.
They say even the healers have begun collapsing from exhaustion. Things are getting really bad.
At Finn’s orders, the outer reaches of the city had been ceded to the invaders, and all their energy was being concentrated in the center. However, some evacuation camps refused to migrate inward. A heavy cloud was beginning to cloak the entire city in despair, and Alize could only close her eyes as she thought about it.
We can’t keep this up. We need to inspire hope. We need to stay determined and blast away the fear.
She clenched one fist tightly.
But people are losing the power to speak up. Even me…
Her hand fell weakly by her side.
“Leon…” she said aloud in an empty street, staring at the ground. Suddenly, a pair of boots came into view.
“Are you okay?” came a voice. Alize looked up, surprised. Standing before her was a girl with light gray hair. “You seem tired,” she said. “Would you like some soup?”
The girl held out a small bowl of steaming soup and peered into Alize’s eyes. Alize, meanwhile, was stunned that anyone could approach without her noticing them, even if she was tired. She hurried to fix her shattered smile.
“O-oh, thank you. Yes, I’d like that very much,” she said.
Then, as she reached out to take the offering, she stopped. The moment she got a good look at the girl’s face, a strange feeling overcame her, like a bolt of lightning racing through her body.
“Hm?” said the girl with a puzzled look. “Is something the matter?”
But Alize barely heard her. For when she stared into those deep, gray eyes, the same color as the girl’s hair, she found she couldn’t breathe.
“Are you…human?”
Even Alize could not explain why she said that. But the words crossed her mind and demanded to be spoken.
“………………………”
There was a long pause wherein the girl didn’t answer. It seemed it was her turn to be stunned into silence. The two of them stared, motionless, as if one reflected the other. Then, at last, the mysterious girl burst into a chuckle.
“Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Nobody’s ever asked me that before!”
She clutched her sides, crying laughing, as if she’d never heard anything funnier in all her life. It was all she could do not to spill the soup she was holding.
“Do I look like a monster to you?” she said, and Alize immediately felt embarrassed. She was supposed to be a champion of justice. What was she doing cornering some hardworking, upstanding city girl in an alley and asking, “Are you human?”
“Er…I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me. It just kinda popped into my head. My bad.”
Perhaps she’d been even more tired than she thought. Alize smiled awkwardly as she tried to dismiss the strange feeling she’d had.
“My name’s Alize,” she said in an attempt to patch things over. “What’s yours?”
“I’m Syr,” the girl replied with a smile. Her eyes seemed so pure, it was like they were boring a hole right through to Alize’s soul.
“Alize,” said the girl. “Something seems to be troubling you. If it’s not too rude of me to ask, would you like to talk about it?”
About ten minutes later…
“That’s another thing that sucks about being the captain! And there’s so much going on I have to think about! It’s all too much!”
Alize had been talking pretty much nonstop ever since Syr first asked her to open up, and the weariness was beginning to show on the gray-haired girl’s face.
“There’s still more…? I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t asked…”
Her eyes were vacant, while in her hands was the empty soup bowl Alize had drained. The two of them had moved from the alleyways to a nearby water fountain, and were both seated upon its rim. The fountain itself had been damaged beyond repair, and the area was deserted. A chill, wintry wind blew between ruined buildings.
“Well, what better way to make a first impression?” Alize beamed. “Besides, not many people get to hear me complain like this!”
Alize seemed almost proud of that, for some reason. Syr laughed awkwardly and placed a finger on her cheek.
“So, in summary,” she said, “you want to know what kind of justice you can present to your friend?”
Alize’s voice grew subdued in response, and she adopted a serious look. “Yes,” she said. “But it’s not just for Lyu.”
“Hm?”
“Everyone—the whole city, the whole world. Everyone wants to know what justice is. Even our enemies.”
Alize stared straight up at the sky as Syr watched curiously from beside her.
“My answer could change it all; I’m sure of it. It could decide whether our despair stays as it is…or turns into hope.”
Hope was what Orario needed right now. Hope and a powerful determination. It was the light that could banish the pall that hung over the city. It wasn’t just a common goal, a just cause, and it wasn’t so simple as good versus evil, either.
It was the question of what did the city use to have that it lost to evil? What was it that Alize could hold up and inspire all those brokenhearted people to fight again?
“At least…that’s what I think.”
“Alize…”
Alize was searching for a form of justice that could turn everything around, but the skies were too dark to find it. Not even a smattering of starlight pierced those weighty clouds. And in the absence of that light, evil was flourishing, telling everyone that their justice never really existed at all.
Alize stared at the claustrophobic skies, her eyes contorted in pain. It was then that the girl seated beside her finally opened her mouth to speak.
“I don’t know much about justice,” she said, “so I’m not sure I can resolve your troubles, but this is what I think. I think there is a justice, and you simply lack the means to see it.”
“Lack the means to see it?”
“Yes. Evil has hidden it from you, just like those clouds hide the stars from us.”
“!”
This time, it was Alize’s turn to exclaim in surprise.
“But those stars go on shining, even now,” Syr went on. “Just because we can’t see them doesn’t mean they’re not there.”
Standing in the ruins of her city, surrounded on all sides by death and destruction, Alize could have easily dismissed the girl’s words as nothing but hollow platitudes. But she didn’t.
Erebus was frighteningly powerful. Alize didn’t know what she could possibly do in the face of absolute evil. And now she realized that it had caused her to lose sight of something important. Not of the stars, but of herself.
As she looked up at the dark skies now, they appeared different. Beyond their midnight veil, the stars lay waiting. Alize felt she could almost make them out—a realm of starlight hiding just out of view.
Without thinking, she opened her mouth to speak.
“…You’re right,” she said. “I’m sure of it. And if Lady Astrea were here, I bet she’d say the same thing.”
What a strange person, thought Alize as she examined the gray-haired girl before her. Where could an ordinary city girl find the power to lift the dark clouds hanging over her own heart? She was almost like a ghost from an old tale, appearing in the hero’s hour of need. Or an oracle, revealing the path set down by the gods above.
Alize let out a deep breath, as if a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. “I have to find Leon and tell her all about this,” she said.
Syr tittered. “Hee-hee. You really love this Leon girl, don’t you, Alize?”
“Yeah,” said Alize, nodding. “She’s a wonderful friend. And she’s much more serious, much more noble, and shines so much brighter than I do.”
Alize’s eyes shone with trust and respect.
“I don’t even care what happens to me…so long as Leon doesn’t lose her hope.”
That was Alize’s sincere wish. And it would always be her wish, tomorrow and ever after.
However, a dark figure threatened that wish with his appearance.
“’Sup, Leon?”
““!!””
Two figures wheeled around to see his ominous smile. A human and a prum girl.
“Whoops, I guess she’s not with you,” said the figure. “My mistake. Oh, well.”
Black clothes and black hair. His indifferent shrug made it clear he wasn’t intimidated. Lyra and Kaguya stared at him for a few moments in shock as disparate thoughts cycled through their heads.
“It’s you…!”
“Erebus!”
In an instant, all their ire and murderous rage was concentrated on him, but Erebus didn’t seem to care. Instead, he calmly asked the girls a question.
“My little lost followers of justice. You wouldn’t happen to know where I can find Leon, would you?”
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