I may be blown away by lightning; I may be dragged to the bottom of the sea.
But I’ll keep getting back up. Again and again, for as long as God’s flames reside within me.
✦ ✦ ✦
It’s raining. It’s biting and cold, perhaps because the rain was brought on a northern wind. The thundering of droplets on my cloak is terribly similar to a cavalry march. One could even say we are besieged by this sudden rain. It turns the scene of rubble around us grey and transforms the dust of battle into mud, but it doesn’t erase the smells of blood, death, and ash.
Footsteps. Someone’s ascending the stone stairs. A prayer is scrawled across their hat, which guards them from the rain.
“There you are, Lord Willow.”
“Father.”
It’s Father Felipo. He’s soaked.
“Ho-hoh! The eastern gate is still in good condition, I see. No wonder the elf sympathizers made it their base.”
“Mm... There are more weapons here compared to other places. The captain must have done some good work here.”
“Splendid. And yet, it’s ironic that an encampment set up for a civil war would prove useful to us.”
Next to the gate wall, underneath the soggy mats, are reserves of spears. Up until yesterday, they were pointed at the city; that was how bad it had gotten here.
“Ironic... yes.”
“This battle was filled with irony. Most of the pro-vampire nobles’ territory is to the west. In other words, they were the first to be destroyed during the vampire invasion. Although, perhaps that was their hope all along.”
He smirks, but there’s a pain in his words. The rain manages to hide any sounds of grinding teeth. Is he thinking of all the nobles he once knew that were here? Or is he considering the many, many commoners he didn’t? He could even be thinking of his family, who are still missing. People cannot exist all alone in this world, after all.
“The Starlight Band, orchestrators of this invasion, were destroyed by the very demon they revered... The king’s sister, too, was crushed by its feet.”
His tone is filled with bitterness. According to Jashan son Peine, the leader of the Starlight Band was a colleague of theirs from seminary. How did a great student with such a passion for ideals turn out that way? The king’s sister, Inkja, wasn’t born an evil sow either. This world is just too cold and wretched for anyone to live on the complete straight and narrow path, in my opinion.
“I sense evil... don’t you?” I hear the damp yet hard sound of a fist tightening. “That battle was a bloodbath for the invaders. The vampires and even their Apostle, Crumbling Mountain, were turned to ash in order to summon the demons... which also disappeared into smoke, not even leaving bones behind.” His voice is shaking with rage and fear as he speaks. “Is there no salvation at all? It’s as if they were abandoned and made into sacrifices.”
His words cut deep. These must be the true feelings of Felipo Valkie Millennium, the man who was born a royal but became a priest.
“It makes you wonder what the purpose of this battle was,” he wonders in lamentation.
“Yes, truly. The vampires’ purpose... their goal once the battle was finished, I cannot see. I do not doubt they wish to wipe us out, and yet...”
“Maybe they wish for mutual destruction.” I hear him swallow. So he didn’t think of that, huh? Then again, he isn’t a military man. “In our many battles, I have sensed that this may not simply be settled when the vampires have dominion over the continent. We may have underestimated the words ‘final battle.’”
The vampires are crazed beasts who seek only war. Despite this, our past clashes were highly calculated, as evidenced by their cycling between offense and defense, which means we shared the instinct all living creatures have of self-preservation.
Nevertheless, after the battle at the fort, that instinct has disappeared. All they do is attack with abandon. That must be why General Bandkan chose the impossible strategy he did.
“The vampires are dead, hollow soldiers now. One could even call this mass suicide,” he adds.
The rain continues to pour, chilling the air. Is this causing any problems for the citizens we sent to the fort? Are the ones who chose to stay here getting enough warmth? Are our soldiers’ hands still limber enough to grip their swords? Pelted and drowned by rain, our fighting spirit’s fire is...
“You have to be kidding.” Heat. His voice is filled with it, and it warms my cheeks. “That’s ridiculous... Mutual destruction? That’s the source of their crazed attacks? Yes, it makes sense. Yes, I won’t deny that we may have underestimated them. But if this is true, then... Then... How disgusting! Ah, is there no salvation?!” He’s practically breathing fire now; his voice thunders into the ashen sky. “Each and every one of our lives is precious! As equally precious as the earth and sky! The histories that precede our births, the seeds of culture that appear in our lives, are all miracles! If they weren’t, then how do you explain the divine blessings?”
Plural, eh? Don’t think I missed that bit of theology.
“Our revolution is not about destroying the other species!” he continues. “What we seek is a world where humanity can be proud of itself, and respected by the other species! That is, a path to mutual respect!”
Revolution. We stood up because we sought a world where humans could live proudly. We understood that our wish would require fighting, and so we gained the power to fight toe-to-toe with the other species. An uprising from adversity; a denial of tyranny. It is not vengeance we seek, but to display our firm will.
“Our war must be a proud one! Thieves, barbarians, and fools who enjoy destruction are who we should be fighting! If not... If not... Why? Why must we suffer equally?”
The wind is howling. The insides of my cloak and hat are soaked beyond repair, so I leave them on and close my eyes. Meanwhile, the priest continues to cry out furiously:
“How are we to accept the deaths of our people?!”
Everyone is dying: the king, the prince, the archbishop, my father, my brother, my old friends at House Willow, General Bandkan, the soldiers of the fort, the men who rode alongside me into battle, my brethren who fought under the same banner... and Ange, who shared our will. Countless have been injured. Suffering has spread thickly throughout the land. Our morale is flagging; our hearts are numb, and our bodies heavy... It’s cold. Everything is unclear. Unavoidably, my eyes seek her.
Lady Kuroi, please open your eyes.
She shows no signs of injury, but she’s been in a deep, deep sleep... for three days.
“Even so, our only choice is to fight,” I assert.
We cannot delay any further; we must return the army to the fort. A renewed, united front with the elves is the minimum requirement if we are to form a new plan of attack. That’s why...
“No matter our enemy, we will fight them waving our banners with pride.”
The human nation is destroyed. Our main territory, as well as the western front, are ravaged, and with the Sacred Shield Mountains destroyed, we have no defense against the vampires’ invasion. The influx of stench is sure to summon even more monsters. But regardless...
“We will win. Our wills united and unflagging, we shall emerge from this final battle victorious. No matter how many sacrifices must be made, we cannot back down. For we...”
I bite my frozen lips, swallow my tears, and continue:
“We are the last army of humanity.”
It’s a chilling, obvious fact. At this point, we have no hope of establishing supply trains. We will eventually self-destruct. Once our reserves are all eaten through...
We must hurry and settle this. We must fight, and we must win against the vampires, the demons, and the frightening Demon God that commands them.
I smoothly draw my blade and point it into the rain. The tempered, polished white blade deflects the water and the cold. Within its sharp edge resides God’s blessing, miraculously clear. Beyond its tip, something translucent rises... Smoke. And not just one trail, either. They’re all over, battered by the wind, yet still rising. They linger and fade, only to be continuously replaced.
At the base of each trail of smoke is life. Men and women, despite the horrors of war, are living proudly. And alongside them, fire, as well as prayers.
“What the hell are you two doing? It’s pouring rain.”
“...Odysson.”
I can see the exasperation in his face as he stares at us from under his umbrella. I wipe my blade, then sheathe it.
“Father, I thought you came to tell him the bath was ready? What’s the point in freezing to death together?”
“Oh, you’re right! The view distracted me.”
A bath, huh? Another part of human life. Speaking of which, my hands are screaming from the cold.
“Remind me, who was it that said we should warm up on rainy days, huh?”
“Yes, you’re quite right, quite right... Odysson, did you come all the way here to say that?”
“There’s one more thing: Kuroi’s up.”
“What? Truly?!”
“Is she okay? How is she?”
“Whoa, back off! Why don’t you go see for yourself? She’s eating some soup with Sira right now.”
“Ah, so Sira is at her side?”
“I’m thinking the smell of the soup she was trying to feed Kuroi woke her up.”
As we descend the stone staircase, I remove my cloak and smile a bit. Inside, away from the wind and rain, the halls are lit with endless torches and filled with the sounds of life. And at the very center of all the noise is Kuroi. Bowls and utensils clink; she must be ordering more, though Ange is no longer here to bring her orders.
Seated around a table, we can talk and share our thoughts. This is good; this is how it should be. Precious times like these are enough to make us strong, to give us the will to fight proudly until the very end. With my faith renewed, I make a silent proclamation:
I say to you, Demon God, master of vampires and inciter of demons, avatar of fear, and threat to the entire world—we will see you soon. And we will defeat you.
But for now, in this irreplaceable moment, I have frozen hands to warm up.