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Eugeo blinked, gathering all his remaining strength to reply, “I cannot…forgive…that part of you people.”
The sudden surge of emotion from his gut caused him to briefly lose feeling all over his body. “You forget who and what you are…you know nothing of the true form of the Axiom Church you serve…and you pretend that you’re the good guys, the only real protectors of the law. You’re not knights who were summoned from Heaven by the pontifex. You were born from a mother who gave you the name Bercouli. You’re a human being, just like me!” he screamed.
And just then, in that moment, Eugeo realized who the mighty man was.
The shock was so sudden, a gasp escaped his lips. Bercouli…the name of the man in the old stories his grandfather told him. He founded Rulid Village three hundred years ago and served as its first chief man-at-arms. He went spelunking in the cave under the End Mountains, where he snuck up on the sleeping white dragon in search of a fabled sword…the Blue Rose Sword, which was now in Eugeo’s right hand.
For a moment, he wondered if this was some descendent who shared Bercouli’s name, but then Eugeo abandoned that idea. When the Integrity Knights’ life was prevented from charting its natural decline, aging became impossible. Here he was, in the flesh. The hero Eugeo had admired as a child…and the protagonist of “Bercouli and the Northern White Dragon,” the fairy tale he hadn’t thought of since that summer Alice was taken away. Only now, the man had no memory of his life at the founding of Rulid.
Somehow, Eugeo recovered from his brief but monumental shock. “B…Bercouli. You…you should recognize…my sword.”
A few inches below the surface of the ice, the Blue Rose Sword was still glowing, expelling its full chilling force. The knights’ commander and hero of a three-hundred-year-old legend glanced down under the ice. His firm jaw bulged, and air hissed through his clenched teeth. Eugeo was surprised at his eventual answer:
“…I think…I have…seen it…before…”
He closed his eyes slowly, then opened them again.
“When I killed the northern protector…there was a similar sword…in its lair…”
Stunned, Eugeo nearly forgot all about the all-consuming cold that surrounded him. “When you…killed it…?”
An image flashed into his head of exploring the northern cave with Alice, eight years ago. There was a collection of enormous bones inside the central chamber of the cave. They were crisscrossed with fierce gashes—cuts not from some wild animal’s fangs or claws but from a metal tool swung by human hands.
“Those dragon bones…You did that…? You killed the dragon…from the story…?”
Despite the ice encompassing him, a burning ball of emotion rose in his throat. Eugeo shook his head, feeling something seeping out of his eyes. “Did you really forget everything…? Bercouli, back in the village where I was born, everyone from the elderly to little children knows you as a hero. You were our ancestor, the man who traveled a long way from the big city to found a village in a distant, barren land. The pontifex abducted you, covered up your memories, and made you into the first Integrity Knight. And not just you—Fanatio, Eldrie, Alice…everyone. Before they were made Integrity Knights, they were all…human, just like me.”
“Covered up…my memories…?”
Bercouli’s gaze had been steady and firm all through the fight, but now it was uncertain, focused on some undefined point in the distance. In a voice just barely audible, he mumbled, “I can’t…just take what you said…at face value. But…I’ll admit, I’ve been…skeptical…for a long time…that I was some holy knight brought here from Heaven…”
Bercouli’s muscles were relaxed again, no longer clenched. The frost was covering his manly features once more. The tears on Eugeo’s cheeks froze, too, disappearing into the film of ice covering his face.
The knowledge that the hero from “Bercouli and the Northern White Dragon” had actually slain the other central figure of the tale filled Eugeo with a sense of helpless loss. The pontifex’s power was well beyond his imagining, if even the greatest of warriors could be manipulated and turned into a faithful knight. Perhaps there was no way that a mere pair of student swordsmen could do anything about Administrator…and the Axiom Church.
In the back of his mind, Eugeo could feel his life steadily being sucked away by the blue roses. It would be the same for Bercouli. Through the foggy frost, his gray-blue eyes were half-closed, and he was barely conscious.
So we’re both going down…
The realization set off a tiny spark of determination in his heart, a refusal to give up now. But he couldn’t even move a finger. Under the ice, he could sense his grip on the Blue Rose Sword dying…
“Hoh-hohhh! Why, what a marvelous sight,” a sharp voice said, as unpleasant as fork tines scraping on a metal plate.
Through clouded eyes, Eugeo watched an odd silhouette wobbling closer along the walkway toward them. It was a person, it seemed, but extremely round. It was like someone had attached comically tiny limbs to a giant ball-shaped torso. There was no neck whatsoever, just a similarly round head that grew straight out of the shoulder area. It looked like a child’s winter snowman.
But this man’s clothes were eye-scorchingly bright. His right half was bright red, while his left half was blue, with golden buttons to hold in his rotund belly. The fellow’s trousers were also split colored, as were his shoes.
There wasn’t a single hair on his round head, only an angled golden hat resting on the smooth scalp. It was similar in shape to Cardinal’s, back in the Great Library, but without the tastefulness. On top of all this, his height was barely over one mel.
Eugeo recalled the midsummer solstice festival in the sixth district of Centoria, where a band of traveling acrobats featured a ball-riding clown dressed in similar attire. But it was clear from the look on the man’s face that he was not meant to bring joy and laughter.
His age was impossible to guess. The man’s skin was abnormally white, his nose round, and his cheeks sagging. His vivid red lips were wide open in a leering grin. His eyes were very thin, almost crescent shaped, and turned up so that he appeared to be laughing, but the look in his eyes themselves was cold.
The red-and-blue clown hopped along down the walkway, then leaped forcefully onto the frozen bath. His menacingly pointed shoes crunched two of the delicate ice roses.
“Hoh-hohhh! Hoh-hoh-hoh!” he chuckled, though it wasn’t clear what he found amusing. The little man clapped his hands and continued reducing the nearby roses to shards of glass. He proceeded toward Eugeo and Bercouli, crunching loudly all the while.
He came to a stop a few mels away, kicked one final rose for good measure, then looked at them at last. His red lips split open, emitting that hideous voice.
“Oh-ho…very poor form, very poor form indeed, Commander. You aren’t planning to kick the bucket here, are you? That would be clear rebellion against our lovely pontifex, wouldn’t it? If she should awaken, she will be quite furious.”
Despite seeming completely unconscious just seconds before, Bercouli opened his trembling mouth to emit a low rasp. “Prime Senator…Chudelkin…You have no reason to interfere in a battle between swordsmen…you cretin…”
“Hoh-hoh-hohhh!” the little clown chuckled, clapping his hands and hopping in place. “Swordsmen! Battle! Oh, how you make me laugh, hoh-hoh-hoh!”
He hissed with laughter in a way no human being ever did.
“Bold words, coming from the man who went as soft as a cloud against this filthy traitor! You didn’t use the flip side of your Time-Splitting Sword, did you, Commander? You could have killed that arrogant upstart before he so much as uttered a word, if you wanted! And that in itself is treachery to our great lady!!”
“Shut up…I fought…to the utmost of my ability…And more importantly, you lied to me…This kid…ain’t some assassin from the Dark Territory…He’s far more admirable than a disgusting meat blob like you…”
“Siiiilence! I will wrench your head from your body!!” screeched the little man. His eyes bulged, and he bounced into the air like a ball, then landed feetfirst on Bercouli’s head. Then he wobbled back and forth on his perch, screeching and carrying on.
“The only reason we’re having this problem in the first place is because you accursed knights can’t be trusted to do a single job right! You’ve been beaten soundly by a pair of miserable children, and I’m afraid the laughter is threatening to split the skin off my sides! When my lady awakens, we’ll revisit every single one of the knights…and at the very least, you and the vice commander will be reprocessed, I can tell you that much!”
“What…the hell…are you talking…about…?”
“Oh, enough from you. Shut up, shut up. Just go to sleep.”
The little man perched atop Bercouli’s head thrust out the pinkie finger of his right hand in a theatrical gesture. Then he licked his red lips and screeched, “System Caaaaall! Deep Freeeeze! Integrator Unit, ID Zero Zero One!”
The sacred art was totally unfamiliar. It was a very short cast, and that meant it wouldn’t be super-powerful, if it was an attack. And yet…
“Hrng,” grunted Bercouli. Then his body—hair, skin, even clothing—began to turn a dark gray. It wasn’t a freezing effect as much as it was turning him into a stone statue. The light went out of his eyes, and his body beneath the ice turned the color of mud. At last, the odd little clown, Prime Senator Chudelkin, hopped off Commander Bercouli’s head.
“Hoh-hoh-hee, hoh-hee-hee…As a matter of fact, we’ve no use for a geezer like you anymore, Number One. We’ve got a much more useful pawn now…haven’t we?”
Then the clown’s needle-thin pupils fixed on Eugeo. A horrible fear colder than any ice raced up his spine.
That was when Eugeo hit his limit. He tried to focus on the red-and-blue shoes crunching roses as they approached, but even that was gradually covered in gauzy darkness.
Kirito.
…Alice…
Their names were the last thoughts Eugeo had before he blacked out.