EPILOGUE 2
The Final Night of Witches’ Paradise
1
The Planetary Stronghold.
The Nebulis palace constituted of the Star, Moon, and Solar Spires and the Queen’s Palace, which governed all three of them.
Their target was the Queen’s Palace.
Flames were still roaring within the palace grounds. Fights had broken out between the astral corps members who had gathered to extinguish the fire and the Imperial units who were trying to keep it alive.
“What is this? Magic? Or astral power? How’s that thing held up?”
The corridor suspended in midair. Moon Diadem.
The floating glass passage connected the Queen’s Shrine to the Moon Spire. Its ceiling and floor were made entirely of glass, making the flames roaring outside visible below it.
“So this is the Planetary Stronghold, huh? ’Cause it’s made using astral energy, there’s oodles of hidden tricks and rare materials in this thing. It seems like it’ll take forever to get to the Queen’s Palace, huh?”
The Saint Disciple of the third seat, the Incessant Tempest, Mei.
The woman in a battle uniform was strolling as if on a walk.
“Ma’am, the front entrance of the Queen’s Palace has been closed. Our guns have not worked on it.”
“I know that, Commanderino. That’s the whole reason we’re taking this detour.” Mei turned to her direct reports, grinning in a way that showed her sharp canines.
She had four subordinates, all commanders who Mei had hand selected.
“The closed door indicates that she can’t handle the raid. It’s safe to assume that they do not have traps or tools to use against invaders in here.”
“Exactly. We sneak in there and victory is as good as—hmm?”
The Saint Disciple raised her head…and stopped.
Her eyes scoured the corridor, but she couldn’t see anyone down the path—nothing but sixty-five feet of air blowing outside the glass walls. No one was out there.
“Hmm…that’s how it is.”
“Ma’am?”
“Oh, Commanderino. It’s dangerous over there.” Mei was pointing at the glass ceiling.
Part of the wall had been erased . A perfectly circular hole was there like a cork had been removed from the glass. That oddity did not escape Mei, who had almost inhuman vision.
A teeny needle.
Like the purple thorn on a sea urchin. As soon as it had pricked the glass, the glass had winked out of existence.
“Erasing objects, huh? It must be a time-space type, if it can manipulate space. I can tell you’re going to be a wicked one. Nice to meet you, little girl,” Mei called out.
Crunch…
Bursting through the glass was a girl, flying down from the sky to stand in the passageway and crushing shards of glass under her feet. She seemed like she was trying to block them from advancing.
“I was waiting for you, Imperial soldiers.”
A witch with ties over her eyes.
The girl had to be either thirteen or fourteen. Her black hair was glossy, and her dress, extravagant. Her cute little bow made her seem like a doll.
“I am Kissing Zoa Nebulis IX.”
“A purebred?!”
“So one of them has finally come out…!”
Four Imperial soldiers pointed the muzzles of their guns at her.
They seemed petrified, which was a natural response. The commanders had narrowly avoided death on countless battlefields, which was exactly why they understood to their very core that a purebred was a dangerous monster indeed.
“Ma’am!”
“Hmm? Oh, I’m sure you can tell. Does she look like she’s in the astral corps? Her outfit marks that she’s one of the Founder’s descendants.”
The young witch was from the bloodline of the Founder Nebulis.
Ever since they stepped foot in the palace, the soldiers had been wondering when one would come out.
“Looks like you’re our first one. You all take things slow. I thought you’d come sooner.”
“I was asleep,” admitted the girl.
“Bwah-hah?! Ah-ha-ha-ha. Of course. Of course! It’s past your bedtime, isn’t it? You got me there.”
“Yes, so I would like you to go. I haven’t had enough sleep yet.”
Zwoosh. Something in the air felt different.
As Mei burst into laughter, a suspicious light started to burn bright.
“My grandfather gave me orders. He said I can destroy the palace as long as I get rid of all the Imperial soldiers.”
The black-haired girl ripped off the tie around her eyes.
Her violet irises gleamed like amethyst and gave the Imperial soldiers a once-over.
“I will commence the elimination.”
“How about I teach you why I’m called the Incessant Tempest?”
Queen’s Palace. The hanging garden.
Retainers and attendants would hang around this space to catch their breath in the afternoon. Daily tea parties were put on, surrounded by the smell of blooming flowers.
“Look at the scene before you.”
Echoing in the midnight garden was the voice of a man who spoke as clearly as an actor.
“The fanned flames are like oversized flowers blooming in the night. Beautiful, but cruel and evanescent. They’ll be gone by morning.”
Two people had made a visit to the garden.
The speaker was a man in a mask sporting a black suit.
The one listening to him was a tall, bespectacled Imperial soldier.
“It’s unfortunate. I’m filled with regret.”
“Ah…sorry,” she replied. “Are you disappointed that a common Imperial soldier was the only one to come here?”
“I was planning to make hundreds of these searing red flowers bloom in the Imperial capital. It seems you’ve beat me to it. That’s what I regret.”
“Oh, we’re of the same mind.”
From beyond her lenses…the Saint Disciple stared at him with her clever eyes, lips curling up.
“So what should we do? Don’t you think it’s difficult to carry on a conversation without knowing each other’s names?”
“Oh, pardon me.” The masked man shrugged as if it had slipped his mind. “Where are my manners? My name is On, though everyone calls me Lord Mask. You may call me anything you like.”
“Nice to meet ya. I’m Risya.”
“The Saint Disciple?”
“Oh… Busted.” Risya stuck out her tongue and smiled bashfully.
The Imperial soldier behind the raid was clearly provoking him, but he smiled genially as though he was tickled by it and shrugged it off.
They had gotten a read on each other…and realized that the person on the other side was someone who possessed the same type of skills.
“Madame Saint Disciple, our head of household has some words he wishes to give you.”
“Oh yeah?”
“It’s a message from the head of the Zoa house, Lord Growley. First—”
“First, allow me to thank you. The planet has beckoned our destined guests.”
Nebulis Sovereignty. Moon Spire.
The third-floor banquet hall was illuminated by a gigantic light that looked like the full moon. In the center of the animated crowd was an elderly man in a wheelchair, raising his blemished hands.
“My ability to stand was taken from me forty years ago. When I realized I would no longer be able to fulfill my dream of standing on the battlefield, I was inconsolable, mourning the greatest loss in my life.”
“…”
“I must thank you, assassin, for visiting our land…and giving me another chance to destroy the Empire.”
Growley, the head of the Zoa.
Possessor of an exceedingly special counterattack—an astral power called Vice. Though he was over seventy, he had more fury permeating his core than any other astral mage.
Facing him was a certain Saint Disciple… The Imperial assassin challenging the head of household was a beast who had come to this place, drawn in by Growley’s anger.
“You must be a notorious man. You didn’t just notice me here, but you arrived in high spirits. There are not many who stand their ground upon coming in contact with my intimidating air.”
“…”
“Then why don’t I give you special permission to introduce yourself?”
“Hah!” The assassin snorted. “I was wondering what the monster would say when it spoke. Comical.”
He was the Saint Disciple of the eighth seat, the Invisible Hand of God, Nameless.
The man in a full-body suit stopped before chuckling in a low voice.
“Introduce myself? There’s been a misunderstanding, sorcerer. Only humans exchange introductions. A monster like you only exists to be exterminated.”
“So I am a monster? If you’re trying to say I’m a monster because the people fear me, you might be right—for it’s not just the Imperial forces that shy from me, but also my very own.”
Creak… The wheelchair protested as the elderly man on the platform leaned forward.
He fixed a glare on the Saint Disciple, who had invaded the Moon Spire on his own. His glowering eyes could have burned a hole through the assassin.
“How sinful.”
“…Excuse me?”
“It’s time for you to atone.”
This elderly man led one of the three bloodlines.
When he fulfilled a certain condition, the sorcerer’s astral power transformed into one of the strongest out there.
“I am Growley, the head of the Zoa. Now, how about we weigh out your sins?”
2
The Queen’s Space.
The night breeze wafted through the window, cool to the touch with an occasional burst of heat. The heat of the flames had been swept up in the air current, making its way to this floor.
“Extinguish the fire with the smallest amount of mages possible. Put the remaining defenses on the spires.”
Twelve people had gathered in the Queen’s Space.
Five of them were the strongest guards, the Astrals. Seven were from the Rulers, a raid unit formed to hunt down invaders. Each of them had been endowed with intimidating amounts of astral power, all masters of their trade with battle experience.
“You twelve. You were all given more power than commanders for this very day.”
The enemy were their best.
As soon as Mirabella Lou Nebulis IIX determined that, she promptly had her retainers and attendants take shelter. After all, this surprise attack did not look like it would become wide-scale annihilation.
“Their targets are important figures in the four spires, including the Queen’s Palace… I’m guessing they’re after the royal family, the Founder’s descendants in particular, including myself.”
“We’ll stay by your side and overpower the enemy when they attack.”
“Exactly.” Mirabella nodded firmly so everyone would see.
The enemies were likely Saint Disciples or correspondingly powerful elite troops. Though she was a descendant of the Founder, it would be difficult for her to have a landslide victory when fighting them one on one.
These twelve would be her bodyguards.
“Under no circumstances will you allow them to escape. If we fail to capture them, things will become more complicated than they have to be.”
They could take them as prisoners or apprehend them for questioning. The possibilities were endless. They couldn’t afford to let even a single assassin escape.
“As for the assassins that strike, you know what to do.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
“Head out. I’m counting on you.”
The twelve soldiers scattered, closing the door to the Queen’s Space behind them and leaving Queen Mirabella on her own inside. Her own two Astrals were on lookout in front of her door.
“…Ah.” She looked up at the ceiling and sighed.
She had finished giving her commands so the astral corps could perform their best.
The silence was deafening. Her nerves made her ears ring.
“How long has it been since I’ve been so tense?”
Time crawled.
It was two in the morning. It felt as though she had to wait an agonizing hour each time the needle of the clock tower ticked by a minute.
…I imagine the Imperial force will want to settle this by sunrise.
…We have the advantage in that we can mobilize our full force. We just need to make sure we do not allow the enemy’s tactics to disorient us.
If her middle daughter, Aliceliese, returned to the palace, they would be able to settle this before sunrise. She couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes away from the palace.
“This is just a ripple. The Sovereignty will not be disturbed.”
Mirabella placed a hand on her chest, trying to settle her throbbing heart even in the slightest.
“This is paradise for all astral mages. No one may trample—”
“For all mages? Is that really true?”
Did she just see a silver flash?
The queen had not been able to follow the ephemeral light.
It had happened in an instant, even quicker than one could blink an eye.
Shing. A metallic sound echoed. Mirabella realized that the door of the Queen’s Space had been axed through only after it splintered before her.
“…Impossible!”
What had once been a door scattered on the floor. The mechanical lock, which had been turned from the inside, showed a cross section that had been cut frighteningly smoothly.
“I take it that you’re the queen of Nebulis?”
There had been no footsteps.
The dust from the pulverized door parted to reveal a man with a narrow long sword. He was an Imperial swordsman with a shock of red hair and a custom battle uniform, which was something between armor and a coat.
“…”
Her two guards should have been on standby in the passageway that this man had come from. And since she couldn’t hear them stirring anymore…she had her answer.
…But I find it hard to believe.
…Did he defeat my two guards without a single sound?
If they had determined that they were up against a tough enemy, they would have called for backup. They might have even called the queen herself for assistance.
But if there hadn’t been enough time for them to do that… Did that mean this man was capable of operating at nearly divine speeds?
“I’m Joheim. I’ll have you know that I’m the Saint Disciple of the first seat.”
“…You are?” She swallowed her breath and doubted her ears.
The Saint Disciples in the third seat and above were under the direct control of the Lord. It was said they never left their leader’s side for any reason and remained stationed in the Lord’s offices deep in the Imperial capital.
The hundred-year rule had been overturned.
“Will you beg for forgiveness?”
“Silence, oaf. Who do you think I am?”
Even in front of the strongest Imperial soldier, Queen Mirabella’s chest didn’t flood with signs of distress—but unwavering confidence and pride.
“I’m Queen Nebulis. As the leader of this country, I will defeat any assassin.”
“Keep dreaming , Queen.”
The Saint Disciple of the first seat readied his sword.
“This country is no paradise. All its fake dreams will end here…and the world will be born anew.”
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