Krylancelo Finlandi.
Krylancelo of the Tower of Fangs, no last name.
The Razor-Sharp Successor.
The name Orphen, which he gave himself.
Or the name Orphen, whose meaning changed depending on who was saying it.
As he went through the names he’d held, he inevitably sifted through his memories alongside them.
He removed the shortsword sheath from his shoulder—after all, he no longer had the shortsword—and discarded it into the darkness at his feet. He’d gone through almost all of the armaments contained in his combat gear by now. He’d used up all his daggers. The exploded gun remained back at the lord’s mansion. He could sort through all these weapons just as he had his past names. His life could have come to an end in any of the places where he’d used them. But he’d gotten through each of those fights, paying a cost each time.
He struck his fists together, causing a sound to ring out in the frozen night. The wounds he’d received in his fight with Jack weren’t fully healed, but he could get by with sorcery. He closed his eyes and concentrated on each of his senses. Everything was in order, his explosive power still present even in his current calm state. He didn’t need much time to feel confident.
Even without weapons, his will was present.
Even without allies, he could move forward on his own.
What remained in his possession...
Suddenly remembering, Orphen reached into the chest of his combat gear. He unzipped it slightly and pulled out a silver pendant—a crest of a one-legged dragon curled around a sword. Proof that he’d studied at the highest authority on black sorcery on the continent, the Tower of Fangs.
He stared at it for a while before letting it hang outside of his clothes. It would probably be in the way in a battle, but he wanted it out.
Then, from another pocket, he took another one out—that exact same pendant. They looked the same, but this one wasn’t his.
On the other side of the crest was carved the name of its original owner.
It was just one name, but like his, he knew there were more.
Azalie Cait-Sith.
Azalie of the Tower of Fangs, no last name.
The Chaos Witch.
Each name meant something else depending on who said it.
He put that one around his neck as well.
The three members of his family would come together in the sanctuary...
His family was here.
He asked the darkness where those words meant.
And before receiving an answer, Orphen set off. For the sanctuary. His final destination.
A moment later, a burning light enveloped everything around him.