Alice did not answer, but her trembling shoulders said it all.
“When you heard about Leon’s ability, you felt a peace like no other. You wanted to kill your mother while she was still human, but you couldn’t do it. And so, when she turned into a fiend, you felt like you’d condemned her. But thanks to Leon, she got her eternal rest. And how relieved you were to hear that. Now, you know where I’m going with this, don’t you?”
Alice clenched her teeth. She had no choice but to hold her tongue and await the inevitable.
“You understand the way Leon feels more than anyone. It was Leon who gave you that peace, and now you want to tell him not to pursue it himself?”
Emilia’s words were like a fatal blow to the heart.
“Get real. How selfish can you get?”
Alice could not respond. She had no words with which to do so.
“Now, are you just gonna stand there gettin’ in the way of my work? Meh. Makes no difference to me. In fact, why not join me for a drink?”
The smile returned to Emilia’s face. The sad, lonely smile of one who had given up on everything.
Alice found herself unable to do a thing.
The large public square in the south of the city was filled with the usual smiling faces. Street performers fascinated onlookers, and among them, one stunned the audience with seemingly miraculous magical illusions.
“Ahh, thank you, thank you,” he said to the crowd in a foppish tone that matched the jester’s mask covering his face. “However, thus ends today’s performance. Ah, no need to offer coin. I’m not here for money, you see.”
Casually deflecting the audience’s praise, the man bowed.
“Wow, you’re a real star.”
“How ever did you do that last trick?”
“There are no tricks,” the man replied with a cackle. “Everything you see is one-hundred-percent genuine!”
Then he placed his hands to his mask.
“Now, that wasn’t much of a break, but it’s time to begin act two! ♪”
When he removed it, the entire crowd stared in shock. The man was beautiful, to be sure, but that was not the only reason.
“M-my god… You look just like him…!”
The man’s face reminded the crowd of only one person. A man who died in this very city only four years prior.
“Haha. Oh, but I am no impersonator,” the man grinned. “For it is I, Rheinhardt Crossline, returned and in the flesh.”
Nobody laughed. The resemblance was simply too uncanny for it to be dismissed as a tactless joke.
His long, silky silver hair. His cherubic features. His impressive bearing. They were all the same as those possessed by the city’s old beacon of hope.
“I-it’s really him!”
“He didn’t die after all!”
It was surprising how quickly they believed his words. Surprising, unless you knew how eagerly the people awaited his return. They wanted it to be true. Needed it to be true.
“Where have you been all this time?” one asked.
“Well, I was injured, you see, in the battle four years ago. Regrettably, I’ve been convalescing ever since.”
“And you’ve come back to…? Of course! To take what is rightfully yours!”
“Hm? Rightfully mine?”
“Your title! The Hero of Salvation! It was supposed to be you who succeeded Lady Redheart! But that traitor, that miserable ghoul! He stole it from you!”
“Miserable ghoul, you say?”
None of the eager onlookers noticed the terrible grin forming on Rheinhardt’s lips.
“All right, then. Let’s begin with you,” he said, pointing at the man who just spoke. The man looked puzzled and tilted his head. Rheinhardt, meanwhile, opened his arms, like an angel spreading its wings.
“The reason I returned to this place is simple,” he said. “I have come to rescue you all from this wretched existence.”
This excited the crowd. They were all thrilled to see the return of their hero and a reemergence of hope.
“Today,” he went on, his angelic features gleaming, “all who live in the Holy City shall be saved. Do you understand what that means?”
Salvation was back to reclaim his name. The crowd awaited these words with bated breath and starry-eyed hope.
He laughed. He laughed at their foolish ideas and declared, “The answer…is extermination.”
In the next instant, a large hole appeared in the side of the head of the man Rheinhardt was pointing at. There was a thud, and his cranial fluid scattered across the floor. However, soon after, the man got back to his feet as though nothing had happened.
The spectators thought it some kind of bizarre performance. Rheinhardt gave a cold smile as the man, now transformed into a ghoul, sunk his teeth into the lady standing next to him.
“Huh?”
Blood sprayed out of her like a fountain, casting a crimson wave across the sky before splashing onto the faces of the crowd. Only then did they finally realize something was wrong.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaghhh!”
Their faces paled. It was a terrifying, primal reaction. Whatever they thought of their hero before, they now only sought to escape as fast as possible.
“Hahahahaha! Scatter, scatter! You shall be my messengers! Let everyone hear! Their hero, Shining Rheinhardt, is back in town, and he’s come to kill you all!”
Thus, the actor took to the stage, and drew open the curtain on the second act of his great tragedy.
“…It’s over,” muttered Emilia in her workshop at the back of Unbreakable, amid the smell of rusty iron. “It’s all over.”
“…Yeah. That’s what makes it so easy to do what I must.”
Leon lay atop a bed, his abdomen sliced open from one side to the other. Emilia was just at that moment finishing up her work.
“You don’t have to do this, you know.”
“No, I do. If I’m too scared to cross this line, then what chance do I stand against him?”
With Leon’s tuning complete, Emilia sealed up his stomach.
“…Looks like the messenger’s here,” she said as an owl flew into the open-air workshop and perched atop a bench. It focused its mechanical eyes on Leon and opened its beak.
“Confirmed angel sighting. Make haste. The location is…”
It began speaking human words. As Emilia said, the owl was a messenger. An envoy of death.
“…”
The situation was proceeding far out of Alice’s hands. She could do nothing but remain silent.
“So we wouldn’t have made it in time anyway, even if we tried to evacuate the citizens,” remarked Emilia with a shrug. It couldn’t have been long since Rheinhardt put his plan into action, but the panic was already spreading across the town.
“…I have to stop him,” said Leon, climbing to his feet, as the screams of townsfolk echoed in the distance.
One by one, innocent civilians were losing their lives. Their blood was on Leon’s hands. If his sacrifice could save even a single one of them, then he would gladly cast himself into hell, bearing the weight of his brother’s sins.
“Have you prepared a testimony?” he asked Emilia.
“Yeah. Don’t worry about the history books. Just leave it to me.”
Leon breathed a sigh of relief. His final wish was for this atrocity to go down in his name, just like the one four years ago. His brother’s honor, eternally preserved.
Leon turned to leave, but just as he reached the door, Alice called out to him.
“Wait.”
Alice hesitated as she tried to put her thoughts into words, but Leon never let her speak.
“After this is all over,” he said, “you will be the Hero of Salvation and inherit the holy sword. As a hero, you’ll meet all sorts of people. Eventually…even someone to replace me.”
“Huh?” said Alice, aghast. She immediately formed a rebuttal, but Leon continued speaking before she could put it to words.
“I told myself I had a responsibility to make you happy, but that was just an excuse. I was only interested in saving myself. I never truly wanted you to be happy. Because of that, I don’t deserve to stand by your side… I’m afraid, Alice…”
Leon turned around. There was no mercy in his eyes. No kindness and no love.
He’d thrown it all away.
All that was left was his promise. The promise to the brother he failed.
“I’m afraid this is the end. Of us.”
It was just like Rheinhardt said. The only way to fulfil his promise was to throw everything away. Leon was okay with that. He’d made his peace. If the only way he could grow strong was through loss, then he would lose and lose until there was nothing left.
“I won’t—Urgh…”
Alice was about to say, “I won’t allow it!” and try to stop Leon, but before she could, Emilia approached and delivered a chop to her neck. With a grunt of pain, she slumped to the ground, her consciousness fading.
The ghoul frowned sorrowfully.
“…I’m sorry, Alice, but I’m a coward. I can never be like you, no matter how hard I try. You have the courage to strengthen your frightened heart. I don’t have anything like that.”
The power he sought was the power of self-sacrifice. Every time he laid down his life, his attachment wore thinner and thinner, until finally, now, he was ready. Ready to lose the one thing he truly held dear. His fear had become a longing. A longing for death.
Now he spoke. The final words of a teacher to his apprentice.
“Be happy,” he said. “For this foolish ghoul cannot.”
This exchange, from Leon to his helpless disciple, would be their last.
After Alice’s eyelids closed at last, he picked her up and laid her on the bed before unhooking the holy sword from his belt.
“This belongs to you. At least now it will be in the hands of someone who deserves it.”
He stroked her silver hair, for what he knew would be the last time.
“…Now there is nothing left for me on this earth.”
That was what he needed. That was what he believed in. And with that belief in his heart, he turned to Emilia.
“…What? Don’t you have somewhere to—”
“I’m sorry, Emilia. For everything.”
The ghoul bowed his head. They would not be seeing each other again. This was farewell, and so out came everything that needed to be said.
“I never was able to return your feelings, yet you stuck by my side the entire time. For that, you have my sincerest gratitude.”
Emilia turned around and muttered, “…Just be on your way, you rotten ghoul!”
Leon turned too, to leave, and said, “Thank you.”
Just then, a faint sound from behind him made Leon’s hand tremble…but he didn’t stop. He left the shop and entered the stream of panicked townsfolk. Carving a path through them, Leon headed to fulfil his promise and to bring an end to it all.
“…Rheina.”
The events of four years ago played in his mind, spurring him on. He lived and breathed his own past.
“…I won’t make the same mistake this time.”
The regrets, the anger, they guided him. Guided him to where he would finally face the music and confront his own death.
He swam through the sea of people. The notion of turning back never even occurred to him.