Epilogue: The Seraph
Four years had passed since Ramza, Emperor of Asvelt, declared his plan to unify Duvedirica.
As time passed, the conflict grew only fiercer, and Duvedirica began to seem as though it would be plunged into chaos. The smaller nations in the west of the continent were locked in an especially bloody struggle.
There was one nation, however, that had stood quietly apart from the beginning: the Holy Land of Mekia.
Mekia was governed by the Seraph, a title passed down through the female line since the nation’s inception. The nation was known for its wealth, drawn from the rich deposits of minerals that were mined there. To the followers of the Goddess Strecia, it was revered as the holy land, for Mekia was home to the founding church of the Holy Illuminatus faith. Its population was approximately one million. It also possessed a fifty-thousand strong army: the Winged Crusaders.
The Cloudy Chamber at La Chaim Palace, Holy City of Elsphere
“They say that the Crimson Knights were defeated in battle. Can you confirm this?” asked Sofitia Hell Mekia. She sat upon a throne of stunning beauty, gazing down at her vassal, Thousand-Wing Amelia, who knelt before her.
“It is true, my Seraph,” Amelia replied.
“So it was true...” Sofitia said softly. “Was it the work of the First Legion?” Sofitia knew the reputation of their commander—the invincible general, Cornelius vim Gruening. One needed only open a history book to find his name time and time again in accounts of past battles. She thought it likely thanks to the strength of Cornelius and the First Legion that the doomed Kingdom of Fernest had somehow managed to hold out this long.
But to her surprise, Amelia shook her head. “No, my Seraph. Not the First Legion.”
“My goodness. Then who?”
“General Paul von Baltza of the Seventh Legion, or so the Owls tell me.”
The Owls were an elite unit of espionage agents, specializing in the gathering of intelligence. They worked throughout the continent, maintaining close relationships with Illuminatus Priests and others of the faith who held power. When it came to acquiring information, the owls were a step above the shimmers of the Imperial Intelligence Division.
“Paul von Baltza...” Sofitia said, thinking back to her past reading. “Ah yes, the ‘God of the Battlefield,’ was it not? The one they say slaughtered fifty warriors single-handedly.”
Amelia nodded, her face revealing nothing. “But it is a very strange tale, my Seraph. If the Seventh Legion possessed the strength to defeat the Crimson Knights, I wonder how it was that Fernest was ever forced into their current dire predicament.”
Sofitia also found the story doubtful. Fernest’s greatest stronghold, Kier Fortress, had fallen under the empire’s control, and the Third, Fourth, and Fifth Legions were all but wiped out of existence. She had also heard that the economic blockade imposed by the United City-States of Sutherland, the jewel of the south, had left them lacking adequate resources to wage their war. Reports indicated that the kingdom wielded less than half the political authority it had before the advent of the war. If through all that time the Seventh Legion had been active in the conflict, the situation ought to look very different.
Amelia answered Sofitia’s doubts without hesitation. “A careful analysis of the intelligence we received indicated that a young girl they call the ‘Death God’ has been responsible for much of their recent success,” she said. “It appears this girl volunteered for service in the Seventh Legion about a year ago.”
“The God of the Battlefield has found a death god to succeed him?” Sofitia said with an airy laugh, then continued, “What a lot of deities there seem to be in this Seventh Legion. It must be very merry indeed.”
Amelia shifted slightly where she knelt. In the Holy Land of Mekia, they worshipped the Goddess Strecia as the creator and one true god. It made her uncomfortable hearing about gods of the battlefield and death gods, even if they were only nicknames.
“The Lady Berlietta, commander of the Crimson Knights, was also grievously wounded,” she continued. “We believe that this, too, was the work of the death god.”
“Oh, dear! This little death god must be a rather exceptional warrior to best Lady Berlietta...” Sofitia exclaimed. “I would have much preferred it if she had done us the courtesy of dying properly, though. Don’t you agree, Amelia?” she inquired with a breezy smile. Amelia nodded without a word.
“I thought you would. Well, it is a shame, but this still presents us with a rather wonderful opportunity. We would be remiss not to put it to good use.”
There was no doubt that the death god girl was a significant source of trouble for the empire, like a small tumor in its giant body. It might be small, but before long it would spread everywhere.
Sofitia’s plan was to wait and see how things played out, rather than making any clumsy attempts to interfere with the death god. That was what was best for Mekia. After all, Fernest had come back from the brink of death. She needed them to keep fighting the empire for her, even if they had to crawl. It was still too soon.
Privately, Sofitia was jubilant.
“Amelia,” she said, “tell me the current state of the Crimson Knights.”
“They have retreated all the way back to Fernest’s northern border, to the outland castle known as Fort Astora. Lady Berlietta has returned to Orsted to receive treatment.”
“How many soldiers does Fort Astora have?”
“Around ten thousand, my Seraph.”
“Thank you...” said Sofitia. “Defeat is a new experience for the Crimson Knights. And with Lady Berlietta absent, I imagine those stationed at Fort Astora cannot feel terribly secure.” She stood up from her throne, then beat the silver staff in her hand on the floor. A clear tone rang out like a bell through the Cloudy Chamber.
“Thousand-Wing Amelia Stolast. You will take three thousand gatekeepers and pay our allies a sympathy visit. This I order you to do as your Seraph, Sofitia Hell Mekia.”
“Your wish is my command,” Amelia replied, lowering her head in deference. Sofitia walked softly down to her. She faced Amelia, gazing at the other woman’s long, pale blue hair, then gently took her left hand into which was tattooed the cerulean mage circle.
“You need not hold back against the Crimson Knights,” Sofitia said. “Show them the full might of the mages. May the blessings of Strecia go with you.” She smiled at Amelia with the gentle smile that the common folk so adored they dubbed it “the joy of the goddess.”
Amelia looked up slowly, revealing the grotesque grin that stretched across her face.
She is truly such a lovely girl, thought Sofitia.
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