“This way.”
The apprentice knight, who appeared around fifteen, led her toward the western edge of the massive wall.
“There are fewer enemies in this sector compared to others, but we still need skilled fighters,” the young knight explained with a face pale as parchment as they boarded the creaking pulley lift.
The ancient platform felt agonizingly slow as it ascended, and the sensation of earth falling away beneath her feet was disorienting. Everything felt surreal. Veronica repeatedly adjusted her grip on her sword. Her palms were slick with sweat, and she feared Genesis might slip from her grasp when she needed it most.
Finally, with a resounding thud, the pulley stopped. As she stepped onto the battlements, a vast panorama opened before her. The azure sky stretched endlessly overhead, while beneath it billowed the ominous smoke of battle. Veronica froze at the sheer number of crimson dots visible through the haze. The horde converging on the central defenses was overwhelming.
The moment fear gripped her heart, Veronica knew the truth: Karta would not survive this onslaught.
This attack was different from previous incursions. If the first had been merely to locate her, and the second had been executed while their eyes were still closed, then now…
“They’re coming to slaughter everyone,” she whispered.
The nightmare of Bayern, which she had tried to bury in the depths of her memory, flashed vividly before her. She remembered a city consumed by flames, the suffocating black smoke, and the blood-red script etched upon sacred church walls.
Deus dereliquit hominem (God has abandoned humanity)
In hindsight, it had been a prophecy written in blood.
I want to run away. Her instincts screamed for escape. Every fiber of her being—flesh, bone, muscle, and even the finest hairs on her skin—stood rigid with terror.
I thought I had grown accustomed to the Bahamuts, but apparently not.
In fact, now Veronica felt their malevolence much more keenly than before. The approaching horde was radiating murderous intent. The Bahamuts were coming to reduce Karta to rubble.
Bile rose in her throat.
“You look unwell. Are you all right?”
As she turned, she saw young knights clutching their swords, watching her with concern. Most appeared barely sixteen, some even younger. When she saw a brave boy—scarcely half the height of a full-grown warrior—gripping his blade with determination, Veronica steeled herself as well.
Pull yourself together! Is this why you insisted on coming—to falter at the first sight of danger?
Veronica nodded and drew her sword with renewed purpose. She positioned herself to meet the climbing Bahamuts, her heart beating almost painfully. As a massive, grotesque hand appeared over the battlements, she tightened her grip until her knuckles whitened.
Why, at this moment, am I suddenly remembering the day you first taught me to use a sword?
✦ ✦ ✦
Relief came only when stars began to appear in the night sky. The endless procession of climbing monsters and the sea of red eyes showed no sign of diminishing. When she finally descended on the pulley, her sword hand trembled uncontrollably, and every muscle in her body screamed in protest.
Naturally, amid the chaos, finding Leon proved impossible. Veronica forced herself to eat what meager rations she could stomach and accepted a rough blanket for a brief two-hour rest beneath the open sky.
There, she heard whispers about the citizens’ evacuation. The southern gate had been opened, allowing people to flee toward the wilderness.
Watching a young knight spreading this news with animated gestures, Veronica felt a flicker of relief. So our fight has purpose after all.
The veterans explained they were firing the cannons more intensely on this side to aid the evacuation. Even the eastern front and the hastily fortified northern barrier were aiming to draw the Bahamuts’ attention away from the southern exodus.
The Pope’s death remained unannounced. Given Philip’s determination to suppress the palace incident, the truth would likely remain hidden until Karta itself fell. The death of such a revered figure would only shatter the already fragile morale. Perhaps the absence of interference from both the Pope and the emperor had inadvertently helped the citizens escape.
Even so…
Veronica drew her knees to her chest and buried her face between them.
Chills wracked her exhausted body. She felt as though blood stained her from head to toe.
I’ve committed too many sins. How can I possibly wash away this guilt? What could I ever do to atone?
Just then, the nearby soldiers’ conversation penetrated her thoughts.
“Hey, did any of you see those monsters that just dropped dead without being touched?”
“Oh, that! I saw it too. Do you think it’s because its parent died? They say when the parent dies, all its offspring die simultaneously.”
“That makes sense. I nearly died before one particularly vicious beast suddenly collapsed. Seeing that gave me hope. Maybe there really is a First Bahamut, and if we kill that one, this whole nightmare would end.”
Veronica’s eyes snapped open.
A memory surfaced—Leon pouring alcohol over a colony of ants struggling through the snow. If memory served, that was the first time he’d told her about the First Bahamut.
“So if we kill this First Bahamut, the war ends just like that?”
“That’s the rumor making the rounds,” the knight replied with a skeptical grunt. “But think about it—if you were the First Bahamut, would you risk showing your face on the battlefield? When your life holds the key to your entire species’ survival?”
If the First Bahamut dies, this war will end. If only someone could find and kill it…
Her heart quickened.
Veronica recalled the Bahamut that had sniffed her, and the way it had straightened its back after looking at her as if nothing had happened. It had recognized her as one of its kind. That meant she was the only human who could pass through their army in this chaos.
Then I could…
“Wh-What?”
The knights’ strangled exclamations severed her thoughts. A chill ran down her spine as she looked up to see the apprentice knights pointing beyond her shoulders, their faces drained of color. Even in the darkness, she could see countless crimson eyes raining down from above.
A sickening crack split the air—the sound of a skull being crushed. Before she could turn, war horns blared and desperate shouts shattered the night.
“They’ve breached the walls!”
“Form a blockade! Draw your weapons!”
The knights who had been resting on the dirt floor leapt to their feet as one, unsheathing their swords. Veronica rose with them, her gaze fixed on the distant battlements. Horror seized her as she watched knights plummeting from the heights, limbs flailing helplessly against the night sky.
They hit the ground with sickening thuds, bodies twitching in death throes even after life had fled.
Then the Bahamuts poured through the breached wall, their blood-red eyes blazing like hellfire raining from above.
On May 1st, Divine Year 1522, the Pope was killed, and Karta was overtaken.