The Second Brother Weeps for Death
At the deepest, darkest reaches of the North, Commander Romario descended through a black chasm where gravel and earthen dust poured down like hailstones, gasping for every breath.
"Gah! Hoo! Out of my way!"
He swung his sword in a savage arc, and a zombie's head went flying. His body told the story of a ferocious battle — armor shattered, blade notched, and above all, blood streaming in rivulets from the broken helm crowning his forehead.
Romario was descending into the underground alone. No companion Chronos, no Count Boldmont, not a single soldier at his side.
Panting, he lifted his head. This was the Abyss — the lair of the Northern God that ruled over the Frost Field. He had no way of knowing how deep he'd come, but a chill kept crawling up his spine again and again.
I've walked to the end of the world, Romario thought. Then he tightened his grip on the hilt, his face hardening with resolve.
It's not too late. Cut down the Northern God, and I can take back everything.
The Northern God's strength lay in its power to command millions of undead through sheer malice. But its true body had no fighting ability of its own. Find the thing, sink this blade into it, and the victory was theirs. Cutting down undead at every step, Romario finally realized he had arrived at his destination — and the corners of his mouth curled upward.
Here. This is the place.
The very bottom of the Abyss — the point toward which countless blood vessels converged. He pressed forward without hesitation, carving through the undead, when—
Chomp!
The strike came from nowhere. A zombie crawling along the floor sank its teeth into Romario's leg.
"Kgh—!"
His knee buckled violently, but he smashed the creature's skull with his elbow in the same instant. The bite had torn through skin to the bone, yet he clenched his jaw and dragged himself back up, walking on.
The Northern God is close. I can feel it.
The deeper he went, the more undead swarmed to defend their master — and to Romario, that could only sharpen his conviction. At last he fought his way through the horde to the place where the vessels knotted together, and at the very deepest chamber of the Abyss, he parted a curtain of blood-red membrane and stepped inside.
Then—
"......Ah."
He despaired. The blade in his hand trembled violently, then clattered to the floor. Every ounce of strength drained from his body.
—Kyiiiiiiiieeek!
The zombie swarm that had followed him sank their teeth into his throat.
In the earliest hours of dawn, the horns sounded. "March!" At long last, the day of departure had arrived. Every fighting force of the North advanced toward the Frost Field — the Northern Army, the Grand Duke's 2nd Legion, and even Simon's 7th Legion. All of them drove forward to strangle the last breath of the Northern God, robbed now of its Three Brothers.
"Nervous, are you?"
At the head of the column, the Grand Duke posed the question from horseback. Simon, riding at her right, scratched the side of his head. "It'd be a lie to say I wasn't."
The final battle on which the North's fate hung. Just in case, Simon had contacted Kizen and pushed his return date back a little. Right now, the fight in front of them mattered more than anything.
"By the time we arrive, the fighting may well be over, Your Grace," said Grand General Ganiro, unable to hide his lingering regret. "To think of those Kingdom dogs planting the flag of Kalross on the Northern God's corpse and cackling about it......"
"General."
The Grand Duke's raptor-sharp eyes lifted. "It seems something matters more to you than the Northern God's death. If the God dies, we should rejoice. Since when did petty pride and glory outrank that?"
Ganiro flinched and looked away. "Wh-what I meant to say was! Only that the war our North has fought for hundreds of years should be ended by a Northerner's hand!"
"And make no mistake, I too burn to pierce the Northern God's throat with my own blade. But do not confuse what matters with what does not. You are especially prone to it, General, where Commander Romario is concerned."
Ganiro's face flushed crimson, and Simon quietly laughed to himself. It was a strange sight — these fearless, lionhearted warriors of the North, who seemed afraid of nothing in this world, reduced to stammering wrecks by the Grand Duke alone.
"Your Grace," Simon said, "have you ever seen the Northern God yourself?"
"No," she answered. "But I've heard that a few of the Grand Dukes before me reached its presence. Their accounts have been passed down — what the God looks like, what powers it commands."
"......Ah."
"Of course, while some Grand Dukes reached it, not one has ever ended it." She clenched her fist. "But this time will be different."
"Yes, Your Grace!" Simon answered with vigor.
"Ahem." The Grand Duke abruptly turned her head away. They'd exchanged words enough times by now to call themselves acquainted, yet she still reacted like that on occasion. Simon tilted his head in puzzlement — then noticed several of the generals trailing behind them glaring at him with eyes blazing like furnace fire.
"From here on, conserve your breath and your water," the Grand Duke ordered. "We must cross the mountains."
Steep snow-covered peaks sprawled endlessly before them.
Scaling the snowbound mountains was no easy task. The temperature plunged, the blizzard grew fiercer by the hour and narrowed their vision to slits — and worst of all, one slip on a steep slope meant smashing into the climber below and sending them both plummeting straight down a cliff from which no one ever returned.
"Waaaaaah!"
Just then, two warriors could be seen falling from a dizzying height down the mountainside. A chill ran down Simon's spine, and he gripped the next rock outcropping harder than he needed to.
"Move faster!" the Grand Duke bellowed, urging the soldiers on. "The Legion's undead are already far ahead — will the warriors of the North let themselves fall behind?"
"Yes, Your Grace!"
In this land, the Grand Duke was near-divine. At every one of her shouts, the warriors found new strength and moved as one body.
Shall this maiden carry you up, Lord Commander?
"I'm fine, Erze."
Simon was scaling the cliff face with ease, Jet-Black coursing through his limbs. He was a confident climber, but Erzebet had fussed so much over the danger to him that they'd ended up linking their bodies together with spiderweb. And as they climbed forward together, her backside kept drifting into his line of sight, making him stumble mid-motion. Each time, Erzebet noticed with a ghost's uncanny timing and giggled. Simon suspected she was engineering the situation on purpose — but he kept climbing all the same.
Pushing you along!
Having finally wriggled her way out of the subspace where she'd been ordered to stay, Herseba flew behind Simon and clamped herself onto his back. Arms of sand soon sprouted from her staff and began pushing against him. He definitely felt lighter.
"Thanks, Herseba."
That much is just the basics!
Ever since he'd awakened her Geheim, the two of them had gotten along noticeably better. Ahead of them, Erzebet could be seen clicking her tongue in annoyance.
Keh heh heh! None of you three slack off already.
It was Pier, who had climbed up ahead — wearing his armor, apparently to avoid drawing the soldiers' eyes. Simon at least had his companions to help him, but for the ordinary warriors it was pure torment. Casualties had already begun to mount.
—Do not let the cold break you!
—Move those legs!
Even in these brutal conditions, the pride of the North proved its worth. Everyone climbed with everything they had.
—The Grand Duke is ahead of us! What do you think you're doing?!
—The Grand Duke has halted to wait for the rearguard! Pick up the pace!
The moment her name rang out, fire rekindled in the eyes of soldiers who had been flagging. That was the might of the Northern Army — and Simon found himself thinking that no army in the entire Dark Alliance could match it.
Days of grueling, unbroken travel later—
"Looks like everyone's made it up."
The Grand Duke, who had walked on ahead, lifted her chin and looked down. Simon and Grand General Ganiro came up beside her and beheld the scene together.
"Ah."
Simon's eyes went wide. Below the mountain range sprawled a region red as blood, packed to bursting with countless undead nests. All this time, the undead that had tormented the North without end had been poured out of that very place.
"Thank the heavens!" Ganiro clenched his fist. "No sign of the Kingdom Army! They clearly failed to find the route after all!"
The Grand Duke rested a hand on her chin and swept her gaze down across the Abyss. "I wouldn't be so sure. I see signs of collapsed nests everywhere — the Kingdom Army reached this place."
"Then what you're saying is......"
"Waaaaaah!"
A scream suddenly tore through the air behind them. The Grand Duke and Simon stiffened and hurried toward the sound.
"What happened?!" the Grand Duke demanded. A warrior who'd landed hard on his backside in the snow was trembling from fingertip to fingertip, pointing at something directly in front of him.
"A p-person! It's a person!"
A human face showed through the snow. He'd stepped on something soft and squishy while walking, gone to check — and found a human face staring up at him, it seemed.
The Grand Duke's face hardened. "The Kingdom Army."
Startled by the sudden sight, the warrior looked badly shaken. A few of his comrades strolled over, snickering to tease him.
"You shrieked like a little girl, you know."
"Getting spooked over just tha—"
Stir!
The buried face moved. The teasing warriors recoiled in far greater horror and dropped flat to the ground.
Stir! Stir!
The head began to rise. Then a fist punched up out of the snowbank with a muffled thump!
"It's turning undead."
Shing!
The Grand Duke drew her sword. "A soldier of the Kingdom Army he may be, but he was a young life dragged to a foreign land for this war. Rest easy now."
Thrust.
Her blade pierced the heart, and the half-turned soldier slumped. She withdrew her sword and swept her gaze across the assembled commanders.
"Prepare yourselves."
"Pardon?"
"They're coming."
Viiiiiiiiing—!
Through a blizzard that blotted out everything a hand's breadth away, some jet-black host was advancing toward them.
"An army! It's an army!"
"The Northern God's undead forces! Take positions!"
The warriors of the North and the Legion's undead scrambled to form battle lines, while the Grand Duke, Simon, and the Northern generals strode to the fore.
"No need for fear! This is the Northern God's final thrashing, robbed of its Three Brothers as it is! Whatever crawls out, we sweep it aside!"
"Ooooooh!"
With their long-awaited advance into the Abyss finally at hand, the Northern Army's morale burned high. Everyone was roaring at the top of their lungs, whipping their spirits higher still — when the blizzard died away, and the Northern God's soldiers finally revealed themselves.
"Wait."
"No...... it can't be......"
A skin-crawling silence wrapped around them all.
Flutter—
A tattered Kingdom flag, shot through with holes, whipped in the killing cold.
Crick— crick—
Shattered armor. Dead warhorses. Wounds through which bone showed stark white, and intestines frozen solid.
Crick— crick—
On broken legs, on ruined joints, dragging themselves by the elbows. They came crawling on with every manner of grotesque gait.
The Northern Army froze where they stood, as if they'd forgotten how to breathe.
Ah. Simon's pupils trembled. Pier let out a low chuckle and sidled up beside him. This feels like watching the Rose Retreat of old.
The army that barred the North's path was none other than—
"The K-Kingdom Army......!"
What stood before their eyes now were the very soldiers who had marched off two days ago to slay the Northern God. All of them, turned undead.
"What in the world is this......"
As everyone reeled before a scene like some cruel, waking nightmare, one person alone showed no change of expression.
"We accounted for the Northern God's power to turn the dead, naturally. But turning a force of this scale in mere days — even for the Northern God, that should be impossible."
"Damn them all!" A red-bearded general broke out in a cold sweat. "Those useless Kingdom wretches! They wriggled their sneaky little heads and marched out ahead of us, and now THIS is how they block our way?!"
"It doesn't matter."
Shing!
Grand General Ganiro drew his blade from his hip. "The Northern God may be puppeting them, but these are freshly turned corpses. Such minnows fall as easily as——"
Do you truly think so?
A dreadful voice rolled across the field. The northern sky warped blood-red, and a single undead dropped down from it.
"!"
Ahhh.
An undead with a monstrous frame of flesh sprouting bone swayed forward and planted itself before the Kingdom Army's ranks. And it was none other than—
"Chronos!"
What a perfect body!
The undead spread both arms wide.
Viiiiiiiiiiiiing!
Dark magic activated with no incantation at all, and curse effects washed over every undead in the vicinity. Ominous red and blue light burst from their bodies in succession as they began to strengthen.
O great Northern God!
The undead cackled in ecstasy. The Northern God has granted me an infinite body, a sea of Jet-Black, and an army of the dead. I have at last attained the very apex!
Every time he raised a magic circle, the undead around him grew stronger still.
"What do you think you're doing, you wretch!"
Ganiro stormed forward, his face twisted with fury. "If you lost the battle and died, then rot away like a good corpse! Have you lost even your human reason, even your pride?! Have you no shame left?!"
Hm? Why would I be ashamed!
Chronos laughed heartily, his new body trembling and rattling. This is it! This is exactly it! The power I craved and coveted my whole life! With the Northern God's might, I am now a being equal to a Legion Commander! Beyond all numbers, by the Northern God's will, I will command every undead in existence!
He flung his arms wide. Behold the Northern God's new Three Brothers!
Thud.
Thud.
Every head turned. A knight came walking toward them, mounted on a skeletal steed, with only a quarter of his body remaining — the ravaged remains bearing the marks of being devoured alive. Arms jutted from all over his torso. There was no skull where a brain should have been; his face survived only below the brow.
Ganiro's eyes went scarlet. "N-no. It can't be. Romario!"
Kill......
The dead frontline commander's mouth opened.
Kill me...... it hurts...... kill me......! Kill...... gwooooohhk!
A hand slick with viscous saliva pushed its way out of his throat. That grotesque hand reached for the sword at his hip and drew it.
Second Brother, still laying on the tragedy as thick as ever, I see.
Chronos chuckled. Romario swayed unsteadily, fixing his gaze on him. Chro......nos...... traitor...... kill......
Tsk, now now — I merely found my true master in the heat of battle. Why can't you understand my heart? Oh! Speaking of which, why is the youngest so late......
Chronos's smirking face suddenly turned grave, and he raised a hand forward.
SWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH!
A black line of light shot forth. The Grand Duke had loosed an arrow of the raging gale, her long hair whipping behind her.
Chronos threw up both arms and deployed a defensive magic circle. Her arrow slammed into it with a detonation loud enough to burst eardrums.
Chronos squeezed his eyes shut — then opened them. And stared, as if he couldn't believe what he'd just blocked, before breaking into a delirious, tearful cackle.
Ha! Haha! I blocked it! I blocked a single strike from the hero of humanity in one go! There is nothing this body cannot do!
He shouted his gratitude for his new power to the heavens. Behold, everyone! I have——huh?
BOOM!
The light from the Grand Duke's arrow flashed once more — and swelled. A second-stage enhancement. The arrow, having obliterated his magic circle, buried itself perfectly in Chronos's body, and the dead man's frame began to crumble all at once.
W-wait——!
KA-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!
The black arrow carried Chronos with it, cleaving the undead Kingdom Army in half as it drove on and on.
Everyone stood gaping, jaws hanging, at the sight. The Grand Duke's arrow had at last punched clean through Chronos's body — his remains split top from bottom and went tumbling across the snow.
"Let no soldier fear."
Clunk.
Having hurled away one of the Three Brothers with a single strike, she lifted a black helmet and set it upon her head.
Dark fire kindled in her eyes.
I am here.