“The elders say that cats know when their time approaches. That’s why they leave home and hide themselves when death draws near.
“But do cats truly understand what death is? Or is that merely human projection? From my experience raising them, cats hide whenever they’re in pain. They have no knowledge of how to heal themselves, so they conceal their weakness out of fear, desperate to hide from unknown predators.
“So whatever noble reasons humans might attribute to such behavior, the truth is simple—the approaching death is simply too unbearable to face.”
✦ ✦ ✦
Leon escorted her to an empty chamber, then briefly departed to assist with blocking the drains. Left alone, Veronica clutched the helmet to her breast and collapsed in the center of the soiled carpet. The room lay in utter disarray, as though it had been ravaged by a tempest—furniture and linens scattered in chaotic abandon.
Each time her fingers struck the cold steel, the whispers revived in her ears. Her chest swelled with emotion, expanding until she feared her heart might shatter her ribcage and break free.
“…It hurts,” she gasped.
Her hand ceased tapping and moved to her heart. The pain was so intense that she clutched her heart and curled into herself. The helmet tumbled across the floor with a hollow clatter.
She had foolishly believed that hearing his confession of love would free her from lingering attachments. Instead, her heart had grown heavier, burdened with his impossible love. She couldn’t imagine how she would find the strength to leave while carrying such a weight.
Thinking about Leon was a form of self-torment. It had always been that way since fate brought them together, because he made her yearn for more than what destiny had allotted her—because it kindled a desperate desire to live despite knowing she was marked for sacrifice.
“I want…”
Her voice emerged hoarse and broken, as if wrung from her very soul. Veronica pressed her lips firmly shut to stop herself from saying the rest.
I want to live.
Tears welled in her eyes, turning the world into a watery blur. She swallowed hard, trying to suppress the bitter injustice burning in her throat.
“Ugh…” A strangled sob escaped her.
The crimson carpet darkened with circular tearstains. As she wept silently, Veronica realized her tears would not cease, so she finally forced her trembling arm up and wiped them away. Sitting around weeping would solve nothing.
Don’t be weak. Taking a deep breath that lifted her shoulders, Veronica abruptly rose to her feet. Her vision whitened with dizziness before gradually returning to focus.
Staggering forward on unsteady legs, she gently parted the tightly drawn curtains and peered outside. Bahamuts prowled the square, and black smoke continued to rise from various quarters of the city. Once not a single soul remained in the streets, the Bahamuts would begin hunting through each house, one by one.
Even with the underground crypt serving as their final bastion, the cathedral wouldn’t withstand the siege for long.
“Pull yourself together,” she said, deliberately speaking the words out loud as she closed the curtains. “You need to save those who are still alive.”
With Leon temporarily away, her course was clear. She needed to find someone who would help her unlock the cathedral doors.
Well, I’ve known who that person would be from the beginning, so there’s no need to search.
✦ ✦ ✦
“So you sought me out behind Sir Berg’s back because you’re planning to escape?”
Philip, leaning against the desk, finally opened his exhausted eyes. He wore an expression as dry as ancient parchment.
Veronica was taken aback by his face, which betrayed not a flicker of emotion. She had just revealed a possibility of turning the tide of war, yet his response remained utterly dispassionate. Just as she reasonably concluded that he might have dozed off, Philip reached into his coat. When his hand emerged, a small glass vial gleamed between his thumb and forefinger.
“One drop treats insomnia,” he explained. “Two drops induce sleep so profound you wouldn’t stir even if carried off by the enemy. Three drops deliver eternal slumber. It’s known in the marketplace as Dream Drops. Are you familiar with it?”
When she shook her head, he casually tossed the vial toward her. Veronica caught the arcing bottle reflexively and stared down at the palm-sized vessel of transparent liquid.
“Mix it with wine to ensure his unconsciousness,” Philip instructed.
“What?” Veronica’s eyes widened.
“I’ll inform the knights guarding the door tonight of your departure.”
His directness was startling. As Veronica stood frozen in silence, he pressed his eyelids firmly before fixing her with a penetrating glance.
“Is there anything else you wish to discuss?”
“…No.”
“Then return to him at once. Considering Sir Berg’s possessive nature, he’s likely tearing apart the other chambers searching for you as we speak.”
This was an unexpected development. Philip didn’t question whether the First Bahamut truly existed or insist that risking the divine sword was unthinkable.
It wasn’t because he trusted her. It was because they were cornered like prey with nowhere to flee. This was a desperate hour that demanded they play every card in their hand—even if that card was a Corrupted who claimed she alone could end the war.
Lost in contemplation while studying the glass vial, Veronica raised her head with newfound resolve.
“Before I go, may I ask one favor?”
For the first time since entering the chamber, her eyes met Philip’s directly. Veronica’s voice barely concealed her anguish as she said, “Please prevent Leon from following me, at least until I succeed, and all the Bahamuts vanish from this world—until I die.”