EPILOGUE
On and on Down the Unending Road of Justice
Beneath the clear blue sky were dozens and dozens of flowers, all lined up in neat rows. But this was not a field—cultivated or natural. It was a graveyard, and every stalk was an offering.
“…There we go. Thanks, Bell. Sorry for making you come with me.”
It was the First Graveyard, also known as Adventurers Graveyard, a collection of graves in the southeast of Orario. After placing a single flower at the base of a white grave marker, Hermes slowly rose to his feet.
“No, it’s okay,” said Bell. There was no embarrassment or consternation in his voice. He shook his head solemnly.
He was praying for the souls of the deceased. Though he knew not the faces of anyone sleeping there, he stood in their shoes as an adventurer of Orario, and felt obliged to pay his respects.
Upon the grave before him was carved the name LYDIS CAVERNA. It was not a name with which Bell was familiar, but the smile on Hermes’s face was one he had never seen before, and somehow he understood.
“Lord Hermes,” he said. “Was everything you just told me true? I can hardly believe such a fierce battle happened here only seven years ago.”
On the way to the graveyard, Bell had heard Hermes’s experiences during the war of good and evil. Even if there was more to the tale, what little he had heard had stunned and filled him with marvel.
“Yes,” Hermes replied. “That’s why they also call it the Seven Days of Death. No other time in Orario’s history has seen the loss of so many lives.”
Hermes started walking, simply reaffirming the truth of what he had said. He didn’t seek pity or sympathy from someone like Bell. It was a weight only the few who had been there could bear.
The word adventurer had never felt so heavy before. But Bell felt like he better understood the foundations the city was built upon.
That’s why Orario is so quiet today, he thought.
As he followed Hermes out of the graveyard, he couldn’t help but glance around. He and the god were not the only two here to pay their respects. Many of the graves had visitors. Adventurers, gods, and ordinary residents of the city. Blacksmiths, merchants, Guild employees, prostitutes, and travelers.
All came together, without regard for race or class, each carrying with them a bouquet of flowers, and all of them alike in their silence and the prayers they kept to themselves.
Today, the city was mourning what it had lost in the fight against evil.
Suddenly, Bell spotted a familiar face and stopped.
“Oh, Bogan?” he called out.
“Bell!” the man replied. It was the merchant Bell had been helping before he came here with Hermes.
He had said he had something to do, and vanished. It seemed he had gone to get changed, as he was now wearing an armored breastplate.
“That’s…an adventurer’s armor, isn’t it?”
“…That it is.”
Bell didn’t like to brag, but he was technically an upper-class adventurer, somehow, and so could tell the armor was of quality make. Out of reach for most lower-class adventurers, and certainly not something civilians ordinarily owned. It seemed to show traces of heavy use.
“Wait,” said Bell, shocked. “Does this mean…you used to be an adventurer, Bogan?”
“Ha-ha. Nah, that ain’t it.”
The man laughed and placed his hand on the breastplate.
“Ya see, the thing about this armor is…I stole it.”
“Huh?”
“Then, uh, some stuff happened, I saw the error of my ways, and I gave it back. After that, I saved some money together and eventually bought it good and proper.”
Bell wasn’t sure what to make of this claim. The knowledge that one of his and Hestia’s close acquaintances was a robber was hard enough to take in, but the man’s subsequent actions seemed to make little sense.
Seeing his confusion, Bogan gave a wry smile, which then became a sad, somewhat lonely look.
“I did some bad things, a long time ago, and my crimes eventually caught up to me. But I was forgiven. Someone stood up for me and showed me justice.”
The man stared at the grave in front of him. Written on it was a girl’s name.
Bell thought it must have belonged to a kind girl, full of justice and smiles. Nothing else would explain the look on the man’s face at that very moment.
“I washed my hands of all that nasty business,” Bogan went on, “and I turned my life around. It wasn’t easy, but I had to pay that kid back somehow.”
The man smiled. He looked back at the grave, then up at the sky. It was a smile that Bell had never seen him make before; a mischievous smile, like that of some street thug, except one that had been touched by the grace of justice.
Bell looked once more at the grave. It was evidently a popular one, given how many flowers lay at its base that must have come from acquaintances, friends, and family. Bogan added a single white flower to the mix.
“We’ll have that Jyaga Maru Kun some other time,” he said, still smiling. “Right, then, Bell. Be seeing you. Make sure you grow up big and strong, and don’t disappoint all these people who came before you.”
“Yes, I will.”
Bell watched Bogan leave with a wave and a smile. Something occurred to Bell as he looked at that smile.
He didn’t know any of the people who slept beneath the soil. But they had touched him nonetheless and given him something to carry on.
Just then, he heard a muttering from behind him.
“A heroic tale… The perseverance of justice…”
Bell turned to see Hermes, lost in thought with a curious look on his face. Bell tilted his head in confusion, whereupon the god said, “Oh, it’s nothing,” and quickly changed the topic.
“I’d better finish the story I was telling,” he said. “We didn’t only lose things during that battle—we gained things, too. And now those things are in your hands.”
“They are…? What are you talking about?”
“Lots of adventurers grew to new heights,” Hermes explained, walking off. Bell quickly followed him. “Braver, Nine Hell, and Elgarm all reached Level 6. Little Aiz also became Level 4 around that time, I believe.”
“…!”
“I already talked about Warlord, but that was when the other top dogs of Freya Familia became Level 6 as well.”
Every few steps, Hermes would pull a flower from the bouquet in his arms and leave it at the side of a nearby grave, even if the recipient was not of his familia.
All the while, he spoke of the events of seven years ago, and how important they were in making Orario the city it was today.
“There’s no doubt in my mind,” he said. “That war is what pushed us to the next stage.”
“And Lyu’s familia…?”
“That’s right. They departed to heaven shortly after that. But I believe it was their actions that brought an end to the Age of Darkness.”
There weren’t many flowers left now. Hermes left one at each of three graves belonging to Loki Familia adventurers, then spoke.
“Alfia’s actions were not in vain after all,” he said.
“Hmm? Alfia?”
“Never mind, Bell. Come, the next grave is the last one.”
With that, Hermes set off walking in a different direction. Almost immediately, Bell sensed something odd, for the god swiftly left the beaten path and headed into a copse of broad-leaved trees. Bell looked back and forth between Hermes and the First Graveyard, and he hurried to keep pace.
Before long, he arrived at a trio of graves.
“Erm…who do these belong to?” Bell asked. “And what are they doing all the way out here?”
Hermes had carved a path through the trees to reach them, and it seemed that under normal circumstances, nobody would even know they were there, let alone come to tend them. They had proper headstones, but that was about it. They were simply made, and were clearly rarely maintained, for they were covered in moss.
“They’re awfully far from the other graves,” said Bell. “And it doesn’t look like anyone’s taken care of them.”
“…Well, I hardly think they could be buried alongside everyone else,” the god said with a hint of irritation and irony in his voice.
“Huh?”
Bell tilted his head once more, noticing that Hermes’s expression was serious. It looked like he was about to ask Bell something very important.
“Bell,” he said. “I feel it was fate, meeting you today. Could I ask you to lay these two flowers for me?”
“M-me?”
“Yeah. I know you didn’t know them, but please, pray for them.”
“…Okay.”
Bell had never seen the god so serious. He didn’t know why, but he also didn’t ask. He simply took the flowers, as instructed. The color of their petals was the same as his hair.
“Rest in peace.”
He kneeled, closed his eyes, and prayed in the dappled sunlight. That was all. The song of the birds, and the rustling of the leaves gave way to a soothing silence.
“…I’ve finished,” he said at last, standing up.
“Thank you. Sorry for making you come along,” Hermes said with a smile.
Bell still didn’t really understand what he’d done. “It’s no problem,” he said, “but…what about that last one?”
“Oh, that belongs to a god everyone hates,” Hermes explained. “Now that Astrea’s not around anymore, I’m the only one who comes to visit it.”
“W-were they really that bad…?”
“Well, I can’t say I blame them. Besides, a god’s grave doesn’t even really mean anything, does it?”
He seemed to direct this last comment at the grave itself. He sighed, gave a theatrical shrug, and placed the final flower at its base.
“But I suppose I can do this much, at least, while I’m fortunate enough to still walk the mortal realm.”
“Were they…someone important to you?”
“Oh, no. They were a bit of an ass, to be honest. Always trying to show off and do things their own way.”
The tone of his voice changed. Hermes stood up straight and gave a slight smile.
“But they were still…a friend.”
Bell’s eyes widened, and the pair’s long task finally drew to a close. Through the trees, Bell could make out the blue sky above. It was such a beautiful day that the tragedy of seven years past was difficult to imagine.
But Bell would not forget all he saw today, nor about the war of good and evil he had heard from Hermes’s lips.
For a while, the glade remained steeped in silence, but soon enough, the wind picked up once more, like the hands of a stopped clock resuming their onward march. Hermes ran his finger along the brim of his hat and looked up at the sky.
“Now, then,” he said. “I have something important to take care of, if you’ll excuse me.”
“Hmm? Something important?”
“Yes. I have to go deliver a letter to a goddess.”
Seeing Bell’s blank stare, Hermes closed one eye.
“Don’t you remember what I said? Before I met you today, I ran into Lyu.”
“Oh…”
The wind blew. The soft sound of a gentle gale crossing the sky.
To my dear goddess.
I still haven’t found my justice. I keep on wandering to this day.
In fact, I don’t even think I wander. When I lost myself to vengeance, I lost my right to fight for justice.
How can I claim to be searching for it now? I have stopped. Stopped traveling. Stopped growing. Turned my back on everything I’ve learned—everything I saw seven years ago, and everything Adi and Alfia taught me.
…But perhaps this is just another step along the road of justice. Perhaps, one day, I will be able to move on, and search for my answer once more, and if that day comes…
…then I will come and see you.
This I swear, on the sword and wings of justice,
and on the wishes I carry with me.
Lyu thought back over the letter she’d left in Hermes’s care and slowly opened her eyes.
She was still standing before the grave of her friends. A mass grave without any bodies—only the broken weapons that Lyu once fought alongside.
Floor eighteen: Under Resort.
The place her friends had once wished to be buried. Lyu had come here to relive the experiences of seven years ago, in the war of good and evil.
A smile appeared on her lips. “Alize,” she said. “All of you. One day…I think I’d like to start my journey again.”
There were still regrets. There were still sins she had to atone for. But Lyu made her intent clear to her friends nonetheless.
“Until then, Adi. I’ll watch over the justice you passed on to this city.”
Perhaps her meager wish was not enough to reach the shooting stars above. It was proof she was not ready to move on just yet.
But the elf knew one thing for sure: Wherever she went from here, it would only take her further on her journey. That was what allowed her to face her friends with pride in her heart and an oath on her lips.
“I’ll be thinking of the future you all dreamed of.”
Be troubled.
For that is how you grow.
Journey alongside your worries and fears.
And at the end of it all, I will await your answer…
…in the astral record, written into the stars above.
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