Farewell, Old Friend
It was a hot summer night.
The final day of the kingdom's officer training course. For the cadets, it was the first time in two long years of grueling training that they were finally allowed to drink.
Cadets Ganiro and Romario stepped out of the tent, sat facing one another, and clinked their cups together.
"I heard, Ganiro."
Romario, a dark-skinned cadet with a muscular build, leaned back and spoke.
"You volunteered for the North?"
"Yeah."
"Why would you volunteer for a place so dangerous, where even success is so hard to come by?"
Ganiro drained his cup in a couple of hearty gulps and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Like it or not, it's the home I was born and raised in. I swore a long time ago that I'd protect the North."
"I see. And you, Romario? Top of the class?"
"I applied to the Royal Capital's Central Guard on my instructor's recommendation."
Ganiro chuckled.
"The classic elite track for the high and mighty, huh. That's our class valedictorian for you."
"Once you're posted to the North,"
Romario ran a hand between his brows as he went on.
"you'll need the kingdom's backing — support from the South. The nobles of the central government look down on the North, so there should be at least one man on the inside working on your behalf."
"You......"
"I'll champion your cause from within, Ganiro."
When Ganiro looked at him with shining, moved eyes, Romario laughed awkwardly and scratched the back of his head.
"Spare me the touchy-feely stuff. Men getting sentimental — I can't stand it."
"Oh, shut up, you!"
Hahahahaha!
The two young cadets draped arms over each other's shoulders and talked of the future.
What kind of people would we become, in the end?
The answer to that question did not take long to arrive.
Five years later.
"The Northern army that marched into the Frost Field has been annihilated! The Grand Duke himself is critically wounded!"
"The Second Legion's forces have scattered as well!"
The Carlos North had met its greatest crisis.
Ganiro, who had stayed behind to defend Bilkenos rather than joining the invasion force, came sprinting desperately into the castle.
"Your Grace!"
A black-haired man in his middle years lay on a stretcher, each breath a ragged, perilous gasp. His wounds were bandaged, but one side of his clothing was soaked a deep, livid red.
It was unmistakably a mortal wound.
"Father!"
At his side, the Grand Duke's young daughter, Jin, clutched the hem of her father's clothes, on the verge of tears. The Grand Duke turned his listless eyes toward Ganiro.
"Ganiro."
Thud.
Ganiro's legs gave out beneath him and he collapsed where he stood.
His hero — the man he respected more than anyone in the world — was dying before his very eyes.
"Listen to me carefully, Ganiro. The Northern God's undead legions are descending upon Bilkenos."
"......"
"You are the only general left to take command. Lead our people and evacuate to the South."
Ganiro forced down the tears welling up inside him and looked at the Grand Duke with bloodshot eyes.
"Please, take back those words."
"Ganiro."
"I will go to the South myself! I'll convince the nobles of the central government and bring back reinforcements!"
"The nobles see the North as nothing but a thorn in their side. There is no way they will come......"
"I have a friend in the central government!"
Ganiro pounded his chest and screamed until his throat tore.
"If that man throws his weight behind us, it can be done! I beg you, hold on just a little longer, Your Grace!"
Ganiro left Bilkenos on horseback that very instant.
His lord was dying, and his homeland was moments from being trampled under the enemy's host.
Without a wink of sleep, he rode night and day until he reached the Southern Front Command of Carlos.
"Send reinforcements!"
Ganiro roared at the baffled officers.
"The North is in danger! The Northern God's forces will descend at any moment! How can you people not understand that if the North falls, the South is next?!"
"Calm yourself."
One officer twisted his long mustache as he spoke.
"Do you think moving an army is such a simple matter? Everything in this world has its procedures. I will report your request up the chain, so wait. A month should be more than enough time to complete the review."
"A month?! In a month, Bilkenos will be in the Northern God's hands!"
Ganiro screamed, veins standing out on his neck.
"And there are soldiers out there in droves — what more procedure do you need?! Rally the troops and march for Bilkenos, now!"
"Now, see here—"
"Let go of me! I'm done talking to you useless bureaucrats! Romario! Get me Romario!"
"Who do you think you are, to address the Chief of Staff so brazenly—?!"
Clang!
At that moment the staff room door swung open, and a dark-skinned man in uniform appeared.
"What is all this racket?"
"Romario!"
After five years, Romario looked exactly as he had in their cadet days — the image of his closest friend.
Tears of joy brimming in his eyes, Ganiro called out in a bright voice.
"Romario! Set these stiff-necked blockheads straight! If the North isn't saved in time—"
"You lack courtesy."
An ice-cold voice, without a flicker of emotion, struck Ganiro full in the face.
"This is the army. Observe the formality befitting your rank."
"R-Romario?"
"Your account of the North's plight is pitiable, I admit, but we too require approval from our superiors. Wait for procedure."
Then a middle-aged man with a bulging belly under his uniform, and a blonde woman with a sword at her hip, stepped out from the same room.
"What's going on, Chief of Staff?"
"Senior, do you know him?"
Romario turned his head with cold indifference and walked back into the room.
"I don't know him."
Thump.
His heart lurched, and Ganiro's strength drained away as he crumpled to the floor.
A shudder of betrayal wracked his body.
"ROMARIO!!"
Even now, decades later, Ganiro could recall it all with perfect clarity.
The despair of that moment. The sense of betrayal. And—
"Once you're posted to the North, I'll champion your cause from within."
The memory of two cadets, arms slung over each other's shoulders, wondering aloud what kind of people they would someday become.
"ROMARIOOOOO!"
Parting the blizzard, a sword wreathed in black lightning came slashing down.
KRRRRRUM!
A thunderclap of impact split the air as Ganiro's sword met Romario's. The ground buckled beneath the horse on which Romario held his ground.
"What the hell is wrong with you?!"
Ganiro dropped to the ground, eyes blazing with fury.
"Was this why you clawed your way to the top?! To become THAT?!"
Before him stood his friend — twisted into the Second Brother, puppeted by the Northern God.
As if to deny the sight, Ganiro gritted his teeth and swung again.
KRAK!
KRAK-KRAK!
Black sparks burst outward again and again. Romario, having deflected Ganiro's blow, stabbed his own sword into the ground in answer.
Jets of dark energy sprang jaggedly from the earth, but Ganiro ran on as though possessed by a dance god — twisting his body to evade, vaulting off the surging spikes, leaping high and bringing his lightning-wrapped sword crashing down toward Romario.
"Say something, damn you! Romario!"
KWAAAARRRRRUM!
The watching warriors could not close their mouths.
"H-he truly is Grand General Ganiro!"
"He's not losing ground one bit against one of the Three Brothers!"
Grrk!
Of course, the price of sustaining the Internal Dark Energy Eruption — a technique that strained his whole body — for so long was a trickle of black blood running from the corner of his mouth. But Ganiro did not stop.
[Kill me...... kill me...... kill me......]
The arms sprouting from Romario's body forged dark swords in unison and seized them. Thirty blades in all bore down on Ganiro as he charged head-on.
Ganiro's eyes went wide.
"Fine! If that's truly your last wish, my friend!"
Spikes surged from below, and thirty swords closed in from above.
But all Ganiro held in his hand was a single sword.
"Then as your friend, I'll cut off your head with my own two hands!"
⟨ Ganiro Original – Hundred Folds ⟩
A secret technique that turned a sword into lightning itself.
The blade, enchanted to its absolute limit, scattered into a storm of pure lightning. The onrushing spikes and swords shattered against the thousands of branching bolts, and through the gap Ganiro slipped with lightning speed, drawing the dagger at his waist.
"Close your eyes! Romari—!"
THUNK!
Ganiro's body jerked to a halt. His two legs, still mid-air, dangled helplessly without ever touching the ground.
Grrkch!
Ganiro coughed up blood.
A single spike, erupting from the ground, had driven deep through his side. It seemed laced with poison — his body would not so much as twitch.
Romario gazed down at Ganiro, frozen before him, with dull, expressionless eyes. Then he seized his face and lifted him up.
Ganiro could not resist, and Romario raised two of his arms high toward the sky.
VMMMMMMMM—!
A spike-sword of solid dark energy shot high into the heavens.
The overwhelming gap in power.
The spike-sword descended toward the earth, aiming to cleave Ganiro in two.
And in the very instant his heart began to break before approaching death—
"Who gave you permission to lie down and rest already, Grand General?"
At the mellifluous voice, Ganiro's eyes snapped open.
The descending spike-sword snapped in two against an arrow that came hurtling in like a comet, and before anyone could blink, a black knight in full plate armor stood at his side.
"I have not yet permitted your rest."
Ganiro's eyes welled up.
"G-Grand Duchess!"
In the meantime, Romario set yet another host of swords in motion—
TWANG!
An arrow came from nowhere and slammed into his face.
[?]
Strangest of all, the Grand Duchess showed no sign of having drawn a bow at all. Her hand, hanging loose at her side, flicked a bowstring.
TWANG!
Before the string's vibration even settled, another arrow punched through the body of the horse Romario rode.
TWANG! TWANG! TWANG!
Every time the bow in her hand jerked upward, Romario took another battering, utterly helpless against it.
When the pinioned Ganiro dropped free to the ground, she drew her hand back.
SHAAAAAAK—!
A dark-energy arrow materialized in the Grand Duchess's grip. She slung the Gale Bow across her shoulder and gave the arrow in her hand one sharp shake.
SHRAK—!
With a silvery ring, the arrow stretched and lengthened, taking the form of a spear. She charged at once, and Romario answered, wrenching dark swords free from his countless arms.
SWEESH!
The spearpoint shivered, and ten wrists went flying.
SWISH! SHOK! SHOK!
With every shudder, twenty, thirty more wrists were severed. Having crippled Romario's entire attack apparatus in a single breath, the Grand Duchess fluttered upward like a butterfly and—
THUUUUNK!
—drove her spearpoint clean through his chest. It looked effortless when she did it, but it was a strike of surgical precision, stripped of every wasted motion, that left him no opening whatsoever to counter.
Releasing the spear as she fell, she spun a full revolution in the air, drew the Gale Bow from her shoulder in the same instant, and loosed an arrow.
SWAK!
The bow's tip quivered and the arrow was away—
KWAAAAAAANG!
—and the instant it struck the spearhead, the spear lodged in Romario's chest exploded as though it had been waiting all along.
A coordination worthy of the word flawless.
Fragments of Romario's shredded body rained down onto the ground.
UWAAAAAAA!
The northern warriors, fighting even as they watched, let out a roar of triumph. Landing lightly on her feet, the Grand Duchess murmured as she stared into the blast.
"Stubborn thing, aren't you. Undead."
TAP!
From out of the smoking haze, Romario's hand shot out and clamped onto the Grand Duchess's helm with a crushing grip.
TAP! TAP-TAP!
More of Romario's ragged, mangled hands seized her arms and shoulders.
"Ah!"
"The Grand Duchess is caught!"
The warriors who saw it raced over in a panic. Staggering, Romario let out a hideous, broken wail.
[Kill...... me.]
Inside her helm, the Grand Duchess quietly closed her eyes.
"It is not I who will kill you."
Sensing a presence, the undead Romario turned around. Through the roiling smoke, Ganiro had appeared upside-down behind him, inverted in midair.
"ROMARIOOOOO!"
KWARRRRUM!
His left arm — already transformed into living lightning — passed clean through Romario's neck. Only then, having lost both core and head, did Romario's body go slack.
KRATHUMP!
Ganiro, unable to even absorb the force of his own blow, went tumbling across the ground and only stopped when he slammed into a nearby tree. There he lay, gasping for breath.
"Hahk! Hahk!"
His chest heaved. His left arm — converted to lightning in desperation, his sword gone — hung shriveled and pitch-black.
Thud-rumble— thump—
Belatedly, Romario's severed head rolled to a stop beside Ganiro.
Ganiro looked at it.
[Gani......]
The head was speaking.
[......sorry.]
KRRGH!
Ganiro clenched his teeth.
Damn you! Only NOW you—
Truthfully, he had suspected it all along.
That Romario had tried to help the North back then, too.
Your account of the North's plight is pitiable, I admit, but we too require approval from our superiors.
But the nobles of the central government — and orders from above even them — had simply made it impossible to move troops. Wasn't that how armies had always worked? What more had he expected? What could Romario possibly have done from that room?
He had known all of it. And still, he could not bring himself to forgive.
"Damn you! DAMN you!"
But soon enough, Ganiro who had screamed his curses went limp, like a man who had finally resigned himself. Then, with the blackened arm he could no longer use, he gently closed Romario's eyes.
"Yeah. It all ends like this, doesn't it."
The man who abandoned his friend and scrambled up the ladder of success.
The man who rolled through hardship country until his heart went rotten.
The ending was the same. All of it came back to a handful of dust, one way or another.
A wretch hardly worth calling a friend — and still.
"Rest easy, you damn fool."
He had decided that, at the very least, he would offer a prayer for the dead on the road's final stretch.
Step. Step.
The Grand Duchess approached with a soft, creaking clatter of armor.
"Have you settled your heart, then?"
"......Grand Duchess."
He gave a wry smile.
"Why would you come help me? What about that Chronos brute you were fighting?"
"Broke him. He did slink away with his tail between his legs, but I brought down every one of the moons."
Ganiro looked up at the sky.
The Red Moon that had empowered the undead was gone without a trace. It had truly been a monstrous, absurd power.
"Now I command you: take your rest."
Ganiro let his arms hang limp and closed his eyes.
"Thank you."
Medics carrying stretchers were already running toward them.
While Ganiro and Romario fought their brutal battle, things were turning desperate on the other battlefields as well.
The most troubling was wherever the Third Brother was.
"Haa... haa..."
Simon panted, letting the sword in his hand droop.
His opponent was the Third Brother herself — Grayson. When she raised both arms, endless streams of undead birds poured out from the openings in her back without cease.
Grayson......!
Incredibly, she had been in the kingdom's army.
But an even bigger question loomed over that.
Why would the Northern God choose Grayson of all people as the Third Brother? She wasn't even a warrior — just an ordinary civilian.
He couldn't say for certain, but it made him suspect she had possessed some hidden ability all along. The way she commanded such vast flocks of dead birds certainly pointed that way.
Then Pier's voice rang out.
[You'd best give up on bringing the Third Brother into your Legion, Boy!]
"Pier!"
[The Three Brothers are entities the Northern God personally contracted after imbuing them with its own power! There is no opening for another necromancer to interfere.]
"......"
Simon lifted his head and looked at Grayson.
Was he really just supposed to give up, like this?
[I'm sorry, Simon.]
She swept her arms through the air.
[I can't defy the Northern God.]
The streaming birds now poured down toward Simon. He leveled his sword before him and took up his stance.
First, I have to close the distance.
Simon and his Imperial Guard charged toward the flock Grayson had sent, trailing streaks of teal light.
SHRAK!
SHK!
Simon and the Imperial Guard slashed wildly, hacking their way through the flock. The distance to Grayson shrank in a heartbeat—
There are too many of them!
The black birds' beaks were like razor-sharp daggers. The Imperial Guard around him crumbled, and Simon took hits of his own.
[I'm sorry.]
The Third Brother, Grayson, folded her hands one atop the other. The flock coalesced at the center and hurtled forward like a great lance, slamming into Simon.
WHAM!
He barely got a dark shield spread across his front in time, and was flung back several meters, skidding to a stop across the ground.
Even amid all this, Grayson kept producing more and more birds from her back.
"Let me ask you just one thing, Grayson! Why were you with the kingdom's army?"
She bowed her head low and answered meekly.
[Count Boldmont threatened me...... I'm sorry. I had no choice.]
So she had been on Count Boldmont's side, then. The Abyss's location had surely leaked because of her.
Then she suddenly cried out and clutched her head.
[Please, run! Simon! I—]
Tears of blood streamed down her face.
[I don't think I can hold myself back much longer!]
One look told him she was in bad shape.
Simon's mind raced.
It's a little different from Chronos, the First Brother. Chronos cooperated with the Northern God of his own will even after becoming undead — but Grayson is clearly resisting it.
Simon's gaze shifted.
Commander Romario, the Second Brother — he only ever repeated that he wanted to be killed, too. Does the Northern God's power take a different form depending on the person?
He wanted to think it through further, but there was no time. Grayson's flock was surging toward him once more.
Pier's voice sounded.
[I'm on my way, so don't overdo it, Boy! Your opponent is one of the Three Brothers!]
Understood.
Simon exhaled a long, reverent breath and sharpened every sense in his body to a fine point.
I'll push as far as I can go.
And of course, he had no intention whatsoever of backing down.