“Haha… Oh dear…”
Madiath bent down to retrieve the Raksha-Nada, then collapsed to his knees. Blood poured endlessly from the cross-shaped wound in his chest, rapidly pooling beneath him.
It looked like he didn’t have the strength to keep standing.
“Hah…hah…!”
With his side cut open, Ayato, on the other hand, was on the verge of losing consciousness at any moment. His hands and feet were numb, his vision blurring from the blood loss.
Despite all this, he was able to make out the end of the championship match displayed in the air-window—to see the moment that Julis won the Lindvolus.
“I never thought Miss Orphelia would lose…,” Madiath murmured.
His voice held regret, but at the same time, it sounded as though a burden had been lifted from his shoulders.
Ayato summoned what little strength he had left and pointed the Ser Veresta at the older man.
“If you want to keep going…”
But before he could finish those words, Madiath closed his eyes and shook his head.
“As much as I would like to…unfortunately, I doubt Miss Orphelia will heed our instructions any longer.”
Ayato was of the same opinion.
Orphelia’s expression in the air-window was missing its usual resignation. Already, she was a different woman from the person she had been at the start of the match.
Julis had done it.
Ayato couldn’t be prouder of her.
“Ayato, I’m done here.”
The next moment, Saya stepped out from the audience seating, flashing him a peace sign.
It looked like she had disarmed the bombs in time.
“…! Ayato?!”
Perhaps it was the relief, or maybe he’d just reached his limit, but Ayato fell to the ground, the world spinning around him.
Saya leaped out from the audience stands in a panic and rushed over.
“Your wounds…!”
She held him up, visibly swallowing as she looked over his injuries.
“I’m okay… More importantly, you have to let everyone know…”
“You idiot!” Saya cried with tears in her eyes, slapping him on the forehead. “There’s no way you’re okay!”
“She’s right,” Madiath interjected, feigning innocence. “You’ve suffered damage to your internal organs. Get him to a hospital as quickly as you can. See that he’s treated by a healer. Otherwise, it’ll be too late.”
“And who do you think did this to him…?!” Filled with anger, Saya whipped her handgun in his direction.
But Ayato reached out, gently lowering her hand along with the gun clutched tightly in her palm.
“…Same to you, Madiath Mesa. You’re in better shape than me, but that wound will kill you if you don’t get it treated. Let’s go to the hospital together.”
“Oh dear, are you trying to save me now?” Madiath said with an astonished smile. “You really are hopelessly naive.”
“We’ll be handing you over to Stjarnagarm, too, of course.”
“Ha-ha-ha. That will be a problem. I don’t think I’ll be able to stand one of the good commander’s lectures. I’m sorry, but I’ll have to decline.”
With those words, Madiath pulled out a mobile and activated a small air-window.
“…!”
Saya’s expression stiffened.
“Saya?”
“…Ayato… That’s probably the detonation switch.”
“What…?! But I thought you’d defused all the bombs… Ngh!”
Ayato tried to pull himself up, but the pain dragged him back to the ground.
“There’s no way you could have known this, but there’s a basement level beneath the stage—a waiting area for full-time fighters. Back in the day, I made use of it quite often. As it happens, I placed one more bomb down there.”
He wasn’t joking.
Madiath Mesa wasn’t the kind of man to bluff at a time like this.
“Oh, don’t worry. Even if it goes off, all it will do is destroy this stage. It isn’t powerful enough to take down the walls. Things would be different if the manadite-infused bombs in the audience galleries were to go off, but there’s no chance of that now, is there?”
Ayato glanced at Saya, who confirmed this with a small nod.
“In that case, why…?”
“I’ll take care of myself, at least.”
“…You don’t mean to take us with you?” Saya asked.
“What kind of person do you think I am?” Madiath responded, dismayed.
“A villain,” Saya answered at once.
“I won’t deny that… But I hate putting good potential to waste. There’s no point getting you both caught up in any more of this.”
“…”
Ayato’s gaze met Madiath’s for a short, yet seemingly endless moment. Try as he might to discern the other man’s true thoughts, he couldn’t work him out.
Madiath was the first to avert his gaze, glancing down to one side and heaving a deep sigh.
“Come on now, get going,” he said. “Given all the commotion up there, the hospitals must be in quite a mess. If you don’t hurry, you really will lose your life. Or do you want to end it here with me?”
“…Let’s go, Ayato,” Saya said, lifting him by the shoulders and dragging him to the elevator within one of the pillars.
Just before they stepped inside, Ayato glanced back once more.
Madiath had already turned away.
He was probably looking toward the past—letting it consume him to the very end.
✦ ✦ ✦
He had no need for the future.
That was what Madiath decided the day he lost Akari.
He could see no value in a future without her.
Even now, his feelings remained unchanged.
“Well, I suppose this is a fitting end for a pathetic man unable to let go of his regrets…,” Madiath murmured to himself, alone on the Eclipse stage.
Taking revenge against the era itself might have sounded like a good idea, but in the end, it had all been to satisfy his own ego. Even if the plan had succeeded, it wouldn’t have brought him any comfort. He had known that from the beginning.
Still, he hadn’t had any choice but to press on.
No one could possibly understand him, nor did he want them to.
No. He would have liked for Haruka to understand, if only a little. But in the end, that was just another selfish wish. She wasn’t Akari.
“…Now then.”
Madiath removed his mask, tossing it away before casually reaching out to tap the air-window.
The events of that day flashed once more before his vision.
“My wish—”
✦ ✦ ✦
Oh, Akari… I really did want to hear what came next.
✦ ✦ ✦
