Everyone could tell that Oscar was doing his best to keep his emotions in check while he handed out orders.
“Ehit told us that once the Liberators are gone, regular people will start killing each other.”
Parsha and the others gasped, the blood draining from their faces.
“We have to prevent that no matter what. Please lend us your assistance, everyone,” Oscar said, bowing his head. And for a moment, there was complete silence.
It was Baharl who finally spoke up, saying, “Either way, I need to get back to Andika. If the city’s still around, I plan to evacuate everyone I can. I doubt the nations on the mainland are willing to chase us that far out.”
The next to say something was Sharm.
“I don’t mind helping. Your Majesty, can you cast your evolution magic on me as well? The Holy Sword is telling me I’ll be able to last seven days with that.”
At that point, everyone started voicing their willingness to cooperate.
“We don’t have much time, everyone! Let’s get moving!” Parsha shouted, prompting Baharl and the others to set about their respective tasks.
“Miledi, let’s go to the training ground we used to master our ancient magic. We’ll have the least distractions there. Lyu and I will head over as soon as we’ve given everyone the things they need, so use that time to mentally reorient yourself.”
“Got it. Also, sorry.”
Oscar patted Miledi’s head in response, then looked over at Meiru and said, “Take care of her for me.”
“Of course. Let’s go, Miledi-chan. This isn’t over yet.”
“You’re right. There’s no way I’m letting it end here.”
Miledi lifted Meiru, Naiz, Vandre, and Laus with her gravity magic, then carried them all to the training grounds.
A full day passed without Miledi and the others managing to recreate the concept magic they wanted. Meanwhile, a dozen more of the Liberators’ hidden villages were burned to the ground.
A second day passed, and the dragonmen refugees finally made it to the Pale Forest. By checking the compass, Miledi and the others discovered that apostles and fanatics had attacked Dastia. They also heard that Rasul had been exiled from his own nation.
Three days went by and Miledi and the others were no closer to recreating concept magic. They’d done it the first time after getting dead drunk, so it wasn’t like they had any real knowledge they could draw on. All they managed to make were inferior copies of their first arrow.
Their impatience grew, while the world finally started tilting toward destruction. The rage the zealots had directed toward the Liberators was now being directed at their neighbors. People began to wonder if maybe the person living next to them wasn’t secretly a rebel supporter.
On the fourth day, the demon empire declared war on Dastia and launched an invasion. Grandort and Velnika began preparations to cross the Reisen Gorge and invade the demon empire as well. The Dragon Kingdom became a vassal state of the theocracy, and Shival’s dragonmen began hunting down Liberators.
By the fifth day, every Liberator who wasn’t part of the support branch or under Miledi and the others’ direct protection was dead.
On day six, Miledi vanished.
There was a hidden grave on a cliff overlooking the ocean due east from Sainttown. The gravestone was a simple stone slab on the promontory.
Miledi stood before the gravestone, staring intently at the name etched into it—Belta Lievre.
“Belle, everyone’s dead,” she said in a voice quiet enough to be swallowed up by the white-crested waves crashing against the cliff wall.
“I couldn’t do it.”
They’d been this close to reaching Ehit, but in the end, they’d failed. The free world they’d dreamed about had proven to be beyond their reach.
“But you know what’s weird? No one was mad at me.”
Badd wasn’t the only one who’d left his will behind, knowing that Meiru would be able to see into the past. Salus and the others had also left behind messages in various artifacts that had been recovered by the search squads Parsha sent out.
Badd had told her to live on even if they couldn’t beat Ehit. Salus had told her he hoped she’d live her life as a normal girl from now on. Rigan had told her to find happiness. Howzer had told her that as long as the light of hope wasn’t fully extinguished, that was good enough. Cloris, Jinglebell, Nadia, and all of the other Liberators had told her to survive, even as they were being executed.
“They want a powerless leader like me to survive?”
All of them had cared more about Miledi’s happiness than the revolution they’d devoted their lives to.
“There’s no way I can do that. How can I just go on like nothing’s happened when everyone else is dead?!”
Miledi dropped to her knees, wrapped her arms around the gravestone, and started sobbing.
“Belle...I want to see you again.”
In that moment, Miledi wasn’t the dazzlingly bright, ever-optimistic leader of the Liberators. Right now, she just looked like a girl who’d lost everyone she loved.
Miledi’s sobs echoed across the sea, drowning out the roar of the waves and wind.
It was hours later, when the sun had long since set and the moon was shining high in the sky, that Miledi finally rose to her feet.
“Thanks for listening to my whining, Belle,” she said, then traced the name on the gravestone with her slender fingers. “But in the end, I don’t think I have it in me to become a regular girl.”
Miledi smiled sadly, thinking about what could have been.
“I’ve decided, Belle.”
She knew who she was, and what she had to do.