The arrangement of the bodies was carried out without apparent difficulty; out of the one hundred and ten men who set out, only seventy returned.
At first glance, we could label this as a defeat, considering that almost half of our comrades lay lifeless.
And that's not to mention those who were felled by Gula in its frenzy.
However, the true tragedy lies in the fact that only a little over twenty individuals lost their lives in a conventional manner, while the others have been erased from existence itself.
For the common person, those numbers will simply be absent figures, a void in their memories and hearts. Only those more intimately connected will feel that subtle lack resonating deep within.
Pain fades with time, leaving only that small void, but in the midst of the emotion of the moment, that emptiness seems almost trivial. After an hour of organization, everything is ready.
The journey back will take a little over three hours, but we will arrive just in time to join the celebrations.
I stand in front of the monumental head of the whale, my gaze filled with deep hatred as my mind replays past events. We are uncertain about how long it will take for this head to crystallize like the rest of the bodies, but I hope we can transport it intact to Lugunica.
Frey breaks the silence with a question, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity.
"Do you plan to keep the horn?" he inquires, his eyes reflecting the same awe I feel at the majesty of the fallen creature.
Both of us gaze at the imposing head of the whale lying before us. I hesitate about whether the roads will bear the weight of that colossal piece, but determination guides my response.
"Yes, I want to do something with it." The magnitude of this horn provides opportunities, perhaps to erect a statue in memory, although I haven't decided what form that tribute will take.
"For my part, it's fine. If it weren't for your strategy, this would have been unattainable," Frey says, placing his hand on my shoulder.
"Moreover, you saved my life. I am extremely grateful. The alliance will remain strong, but we will determine our next steps after the elections conclude."
The conversations with Crusch were leading us toward adopting the alliance, but we intended to delay deciding our next steps, avoiding potential long-term conflicts.
"It would be wise to address this matter as soon as possible."
Frey smiles, his hand caressing the whale's head.
"Well, I've been reflecting on it. However, making a hasty decision often foretells ill omens." With a gesture, he taps the whale's body.
Drops of crystallized blood begin to fall to the ground, shining faintly under the moonlight.
"Marco Luz, I value you as a valuable ally and friend. My respect for you is deep and sincere. I recognize your mental acuity and your worth in various aspects. "
I don't know this person; his words stand like sweet poison. The words he uses are the same I've heard before, in the deep pages of the novel.
"You are an invaluable asset to any side you find yourself on. I regret that you have already committed your loyalty to someone else. I have also been impressed by the grace and strength of Miss Emilia."
It's surprising; his act, without visible errors; it appears as a true conversation. It's as if he already has all the memories of the truth imposed.
Crusch was eliminated, and her existence replaced.
"In her capacity as a rival, I have respect and a certain degree of fear, but an alliance is something complex to manage."
His words, a mix of flattery and truths, seem woven with the intention of entangling me. He is unaware that I am aware of his story, so I must avoid at all costs letting him take Crusch.
"I do what I can to improve every day," I reply with a smile, extending my hand in a gesture of respect. "Miss Emilia is someone who should not be underestimated. I wish her the best of luck."
If the alliance boils down to simple economic interests, I am not concerned. My concern lies in losing the protection we need. The Karsten family is our only shield against major problems.
Yes, now they are going after our inventions.
He knows it; I can see it in his words. The best way to destroy us is for our enemies to leave us in dire straits. If we survive until then, perhaps the alliance will solidify on equal terms.
"The fight against the throne makes us enemies, but I, Frey Karsten, will maintain a friendly relationship with you, especially..." he extends his hand, "I will maintain favorability towards you, regardless of being on opposing sides."
A small fire ignites in my stomach, an unsettling feeling that I can't fully comprehend.
I'm not sure if this is a calculated act or not, but his attitude reflects a striking similarity to Crusch. However, there is a notable difference: his approach is more assertive, his words tinged with a subtle yet powerful poison.
It's as if he's slowly pouring his intentions into each of his sentences. It's a tactic I frequently employ myself, exploring the weaknesses of others and exploiting them.
The same weaknesses I observe in Crusch Karsten, and in myself as well. In this man, I see an intriguing amalgamation of the personalities of Crusch, Anastasia, and mine.
In a single move, he has broken the pact of friendship we had planned to forge, replacing it with a relationship that clearly seeks to benefit his interests.
Asking for his help is an option, but without the alliance established, we know we will have to offer something in return.
And that means, if we turn to him, he will gradually take from us until we are left with nothing.
The alliance against the Witch's Cult, conceived solely to combat that threat, does not guarantee protection beyond that context.
If we find ourselves in a desperate situation, it is very likely that he will intervene, not to help us but to subjugate us and demonstrate his own value.
It's ironic, as I recognize that it is exactly how I usually see those who don't matter to me. Now, I find myself in a position where I could become that kind of person.
My original intention was to secure a complete alliance that would provide us with security against powerful forces, especially now that they are aware of Irlam's existence.
The higher powers will want to obtain it, without a doubt.
However, Roswaal is the only obstacle protecting us from losing everything. But he is also someone who will only act in line with his twisted plans.
If we are attacked, if we face a plan that is in his damn book, he will stay on the sidelines, watching how his agenda unfolds.
Roswaal, essentially, is utterly useless to us.
I don't have the power to protect at this moment; the industry is in its infancy. This man must know it; if he is Crusch Karsten's replacement, then he must know it.
That's why he wants us to be the ones to ask for help so he can gain profits, which is what he didn't want to do.
Damn.
I shake his hand in a firm grip, feeling that I can't do more for now.
"Of course, we can be competitors and friends at the same time, right? A healthy competition, don't you think?" I say, trying to maintain a facade of cordiality.
As long as he doesn't attack me, I can deal with anything that comes up. But the uncertainty torments me. Someone has taken Crusch's place, and that deeply confuses me.
"A healthy competition is an excellent description," Frey responds with a smile.
With the agreement sealed, we begin to make concrete decisions. The alliance is established in terms of individual benefit as long as we are in competition.
This leaves us with no choice but to return to Irlam.
Once the cannons and bodies are in place, we prepare to leave. The injured are taken in the carriages, and a small group of knights stays with Frey. He positions himself at the front, flanked by Wilhelm and Félix.
I am with Emilia and the army.
Beatrice has taken refuge in one of the carriages without saying a word.
"We will head to the capital. We still have time to celebrate before the whale's head crystallizes. The mana it contains keeps it relatively fresh, but its vitality will run out soon," Frey explains with a cordial tone, his smile never fading.
"If we prepare a proper parade, both sides will benefit. Also, Miss Emilia and you will be the center of attention since you contributed the most to its defeat. We will move ahead a bit; you can join once you decide who will travel to the capital."
The knights look at Emilia, the army, and me with smiles and enthusiasm.
Their voices join in a chorus of cheers, proclaiming that we deserve a grand parade and a well-deserved rest in our homes.
"I know you have to organize the departure of your soldiers, so we'll be going ahead."
The idea of a parade seems excellent to me. This event could begin to change Emilia's perception, especially among the demi-humans, who, despite being part of her own race, distrust her due to her resemblance to the witch.
If people see that she was the one who defeated the whale, perhaps we can change the opinion of some.
"Then, we'll meet in the capital," I say, shaking Frey's hand.
Wilhelm and Félix also bid farewell, as do the other knights who smile at us through tears and farewells. The atmosphere is filled with thanks and emotions of happiness.
Emilia looks overwhelmed as each of the knights bows to her and thanks her for healing them, saving them, and defeating the whale. They know she did most of the work, so they express their gratitude appropriately.
Emilia withdraws to the carriage after the farewells, to keep Beatrice company. I stay here, waiting for Crusch. Frey doesn't leave either; he seems to be waiting for us to be alone to tell me something.
Slowly, the carriages are ready to depart. Frey gives me a smile while playing with his hair.
Before walking away, he approaches me and murmurs in a soft but cunning tone:
"Out of respect for you, I'll overlook that girl's situation."
"After all, we're friends. She seems to be someone very important to you," Frey turns his back, and I silently contain my fury. "As a friend, I can overlook something like this on this occasion." Frey leans toward Emilia's carriage and departs without uttering another word.
Fourier Lugunica...
In my mind, there's only one idea that escapes my lips in a barely audible whisper:
"This man is dangerous..."
I watch as he boards his carriage, and they depart immediately. Now, I am alone in this vast field; all the bodies have been taken to the capital. From the army, none were injured due to Gula's entry point, so they've all boarded their carriages to return.
My hands tremble slightly, but I stand, allowing the cold wind to embrace me.
"Marco!" Emilia exclaims, opening the back door of the carriage. "We'll be late if we don't leave now. They are waiting for us."
I scan the surroundings, but I can't see her anywhere.
Crusch... If you've left with them without saying a word, without saying goodbye.
"I'm sorry." I turn around, walking towards the carriage.
I walk slowly, hoping to hear her footsteps. I dare not look for her, but something in me urges me to do so, tells me I will regret not taking this step.
I was the one who unleashed all of this; my arrival in this world triggered this chaos. Although, if I hadn't come to this world, she would be without her memories, helpless.
But she would also be with the people who love her.
"Emilia." I look her in the eyes, and she returns a warm smile.
"You can't help it," she sighs and then gives me a smile accompanied by a wink. "I already figured out why you were waiting. That girl... is she important to you?"
I nod, preparing my heart.
"Then go find her. If she's still here, she's probably waiting."
I turn around and run towards the field of flowers. If she's anywhere, it must be there. I don't know what I expect or why I'm doing it, but I feel like I'll regret not taking this step.
"Crusch," I whisper as I advance, taking advantage of the moonlight and stars to see better. "I hope you haven't gone."
I was the one who triggered all of this.
At least, I want to be able to help her in some way. I don't know how, but as long as I can keep her in some way, I will.
I start by panting softly; my body is exhausted from the battle, and now I'm running in the cold air. I keep running until I reach the field of flowers, but then I begin to slow down.
"Crusch..."
I gaze at the field of flowers with deep sadness. Among the swords stuck in the ground, aside from Wilhelm's, lies Crusch's sword in another position. Her blue outfit is pierced by the sword, as if the wind didn't allow her to escape.
I approach cautiously, but then...
"You care more than I thought," Crusch says.
I turn my head to meet her gaze, and I can see a bruise on her cheek.
"Who did this to you?" I approach her, noticing that blood has dried on her lips.
"It was time for me to stop being weak." She smiles, her expression serene despite everything.
Her white shirt, covered in debris and torn, bears witness to the fierce battle. The blood on her neck, where Ley fatally wounded her, is a reminder of her bravery.
She tucks away her loose hair and gazes at the sky.
"What I want to achieve..." Crusch turns her gaze back to me. "Why did you come?"
Her question hits me hard. I could present multiple reasons to gain her trust, explain my feelings of regret, but there's only one truth.
"I don't know," I answer honestly.
She smiles, advancing towards me until she's right in front of me, and then places her fist on my chest.
"If being Crusch Karsten led me here, then these are the consequences of my own actions." Her gaze assures me it's not my fault. "My goals must change now that he's somehow alive, but I know you'll have to face him too."
Yes, I must confront that enemy too, even if it becomes necessary...
I'll have to kill him.
"Let's go; I want to see the world from another perspective. When I regain my name, if that's possible, I'll have gained new experiences," she declares with determination.
If she can be strong at this moment, I can be too.
"Let's go; there's much to do."
With those words, we head together towards the carriage. Emilia and Beatrice are immersed in their own world, engrossed in reading. Although Emilia seems somewhat fatigued, she is comfortable in Beatrice's company.
I've sent the soldiers back to Irlam, leaving only with a small detachment. In case something happens, it's essential to take the cannons back to Irlam.
Since it will take some time to get there, it's the best precaution we can take.
We'll arrive in Irlam by nightfall the next day, so the celebration will have to be postponed.
On the other side of the carriage, Crusch and I sit in silence, gazing at the ceiling without uttering a word.
My eyes threaten to close; I'm mana-depleted, my mind is in chaos, my heart aches, my mind aches...
My soul aches.
I'm exhausted from everything, but I must continue.
For my own sake, for everyone's sake.
SS-Crusch
Where were you?
I find myself sitting in a field of flowers of various colors, the same flowers that withstood the bitter struggle we faced. Their beauty contrasts with the shadow of the lives lost, those that people seem to forget, those that myself have forgotten.
Everything closes in on me like an immense pain that penetrates my soul. My hands are clenched so tightly that they begin to bleed, a physical manifestation of the tension within me.
I have lost, I have lost everything. Every achievement I built with effort, every step that demanded sacrifice, everything has disappeared. Every relationship I wove, like fragile threads on the loom of my life, has been broken.
My parents, Félix, Wilhelm...
Their names reverberate in my mind, each representing a bond that is now severed, a connection that has been torn away.
My lip trembles involuntarily as I search for any clue, any sign that guides me in this uncertain darkness. But it's not just the loss that consumes me.
Somehow, he is here. My mind spins in a chaotic dance while my heart is torn between joy and the deepest despair. I would recognize his presence anywhere, at any time.
His aura is unique, unmistakable. His words, his gestures, everything about him tells me without a doubt.
Although maybe I need a more solid proof, a certainty that can only be obtained in one way. I try to wrap myself in my thoughts, try to find clarity, but my mind is a whirlwind of senseless emotions.
Tears threaten to fall, but I restrain them. It's not the time to break down, not now. In this moment, I must keep moving forward, despite the abyss in my heart.
My life lost its purpose, its reason to move forward. I gaze down at the ground, aware that the only purpose I had is now unattainable.
"All because I'm weak," I whisper, releasing a fragment of my pain, allowing myself that small release.
But, as always, life tends not to be merciful to those who have lost everything.
"Undoubtedly, weakness can be a determining factor," a voice I know well resonates behind me.
Turning my head, I once again meet his gaze. Now, his hair is long and of a distinctive green hue. Although his face and figure remain unchanged, the people around him seem unable to recognize him.
It's astonishingly easy, incomprehensibly simple.
"Fourier..." I whisper his name, feeling a strange amalgam of emotions unfolding within me.
How much I've missed you; I would like to confess to him. Why did this happen? I would like to inquire, seek answers in his gaze.
"Tell me," His voice resonates with a playful smile. "I already knew you would be the only one to recognize me, even though I don't really know you."
He approaches me and lifts me up, while my mind struggles to comprehend the reality unfolding before my eyes.
"Do you remember me, Fourier?" My voice trembles articulating the words, struggling to find clarity amidst the reigning confusion.
He smiles, delighting in my bewilderment.
"I don't know who you are, but apparently, you are someone of great importance. It's a pity I have to use your identity." He caresses his own head with feigned regret. "But don't worry, I'll leverage your connections appropriately."
"Fourier!" My voice rises with an impulsive attempt, unleashing a burst of magic that turns into a whirlwind.
However, instead of reaching my goal, I receive a strong blow to the jaw. My vision momentarily clouds, and my eyes burn, but I resist. I stand tall, fixing my gaze on him.
Despite the wind stirring his form, I manage to discern every detail of his presence.
"I am a benevolent individual." He approaches, placing his hand on my chest. "We will establish a soul contract. I won't harm your loved ones as long as you commit not to reveal my identity to anyone else, except Marco, in case you already have. You can't mention my identity to anyone else, except Marco."
Marco? What does he have to do with this?
I nod, feeling my body slowly disconnecting, as if my essence is being woven into this unwanted agreement.
"Why?" My voice erupts seeking answers, my eyes remain locked onto his. I long to know the reason behind his actions, I need to understand what drives his behavior.
A smile plays on his lips as he holds my gaze, and at that moment, the wind seems to carry secrets that refuse to reveal themselves.
His right eye, glowing in an intense crimson while his subtle smile reveals that all his plans have come to fruition.
"Fourier... "
Darkness...