Against the backdrop of the setting sun, a timid priest addressed a robed woman standing where the entrance to the cathedral’s shrine had once been.
“Y-Your Eminence.”
The woman turned around. She had once been Lelei Argeson, one of the Holy Templar Knights’ captains, but now she was the pope and called herself Darrion Kaus.
“We’ve finished the measurements,” the priest said. He was talking about the measurements needed to start reconstructing the cathedral. The crowd gathered behind him was full of the carpenters and masons and so on that would be needed to rebuild, and they all looked like they were just as confused as the priest that Darrion was their new pope.
“Good. Have our visitors returned to their home countries?”
“That’s what the reports say, Your Eminence.”
“The city and the palace have been mostly repaired. It’s time for the final stage of cleanup.”
“Umm, Your Eminence...” the priest trailed off awkwardly, prompting Darrion to cock her head at him. “I know that rebuilding the cathedral is a very important task, but...”
“You’re wondering what I intend to do about the heretics, aren’t you?”
“That, and the distrust the rest of the world...and even our own citizens, have for the church now.”
Since becoming pope, all Darrion had done was clean up the aftermath of the church’s battle with the Liberators. No one could understand why she was calling herself Darrion now either. Plus, despite their faith, many priests and bishops were still unhappy that the apostle had chosen her to be the new pope. They didn’t like that a mere knight had been picked over the higher-ranking members of the clergy. The priest talking to Darrion right now was also one such person.
Darrion smiled down at him and stated, “I told you, we’re moving into the final stage of cleanup.”
The priest gave her a confused look, but Darrion simply turned her back to him and raised a hand in the air.
A second later, the same silver vortex everyone had seen the day of the decisive battle appeared in the air. A ripple of unease spread through the crowd, and a few people fell to their knees. Darrion ignored them all, however, and narrowed her eyes, looking off into the distance.
“This shall be the final act. Do your best to give my lord an entertaining struggle, you pitiful pawns,” she muttered. Her words were drowned out by the screams of fear and joy of the people as they watched a silver meteor shower descend onto Tortus.
“Wait, are you saying Darrion Kaus is the first generation’s hero?” Miledi asked, her confused voice echoing through the new king of Dastia’s bedroom. The room had been completely soundproofed, and the only people inside were Alfard and Miledi and her comrades.
“I don’t know if this Darrion is the same one, seeing as the original lived thousands of years ago, but according to the Font of Knowledge, Darrion Kaus was the name of the young man who became the world’s first hero. Moreover, he had the power to split his soul and transfer it into other bodies, granting him pseudo-immortality.”
If that was true, then Darrion had most likely always been the leader of the Paladins. It seemed tracing the clues they’d found in the Dragon Kingdom had unearthed some truly shocking information.
Apparently, that fairy tale hadn’t been just a fairy tale. The hero of that story had been none other than Darrion himself, and the Demon Lord he’d fought had been Ehit. Moreover, the “sanctuary” Darrion had been protecting had indeed been the Pale Forest. Or, to be more specific, the sacred tree, Uralt. No, actually, even that wasn’t quite right.
“He tried to protect the goddess Uralt, the avatar of the sacred tree. Her soul then came to reside within the Holy Sword and she fought against the evil god Ehit alongside the hero. To think that I, the queen of the forest, was ignorant of such a legend. How embarrassing,” Lyutillis said with a sigh.
“But isn’t that weird?” Oscar asked.
“Yeah. If this Darrion is the same as the original, then why is he one of Ehit’s knights now?” Naiz asked, his expression grim. It was Meiru who answered that particular question.
“Isn’t it because he cares about the goddess?”
“What do you mean, Meru-nee?”
“I mean, just think about it. Darrion fought against Ehit, but he’s still alive and kicking.”
It was at that point that everyone realized how the fairy tale must have ended. Darrion had realized he couldn’t defeat Ehit, but he didn’t want to lose Uralt, whose soul was now sealed within the Holy Sword, so his only option had been to switch sides. Even if that meant betraying the world, as well as his beloved goddess, he had to do it.
Vandre looked down and muttered, “‘Nothing shall despoil this sanctuary,’ huh?”
That had undoubtedly been the hero’s soul screaming out to protect his beloved goddess, who he cared for more than the world itself.
Laus turned to Alfard with a strange expression on his face and asked, “Your Majesty, please tell us. What was the true nature of that multicolored barrier the first hero created with nothing but force of will? What does it mean to convert your willpower into magic?”
The answer to that was the key to beating Ehit. It was what Miledi and the others had come to Dastia to learn. The Liberators stiffened, nervously awaiting Alfard’s answer.
Alfard looked pretty nervous himself, and he took a deep breath before saying in a solemn voice, “Concept magic.”
The long, unbroken history of the vampire race had finally granted the Liberators a single ray of hope.
“Concept magic...?” Miledi repeated, chewing over the words. It sounded like she’d just gotten her hands on an unbelievable treasure.
Alfard nodded, then went on to explain the specifics. Though honestly, those specifics were still rather vague.
“You guys have already fulfilled the conditions necessary to use concept magic.”
According to Alfard, concept magic quite literally allowed someone to materialize concepts into physical reality. There were no rules, no restrictions to what could be done with it. It truly was the ultimate type of magic. But in order to use concept magic, a person needed to interact with the seven fundamental rules of the universe, understand them intimately, and possess a massive amount of mana. And then, they needed a final key that was so difficult to grasp that the secrets of concept magic had been lost to time.
“All you guys need now is an unbelievably powerful will.”
“An unbelievably powerful will...?” Miledi repeated, staring at Alfard. She was hoping he’d give her something more concrete to work with than that. However, as the silence stretched on, cold sweat started to pour down all the Liberators’ foreheads.
Hoping she’d misheard, Miledi looked off to the side and asked in a timid voice, “Did you say an unbelievably powerful mill?”
“Will.”
Alfard’s answer didn’t change.
Miledi couldn’t take it anymore, so she exclaimed, “That’s way too vague! What kinda bullshit explanation is that?!”
“I don’t know! Don’t blame me though, that’s all there is in the Font of Knowledge!”
Oscar and the others voiced their complaints as well.