The Arachnea was showing signs of change. It may have been categorized as an evil faction, but perhaps it was being reborn into something new. This process would take time, however. The people of the continent were still far too hostile toward it, and there were too many threats to the Swarm’s existence.
So long as those threats remained, the Swarm would choose to keep on fighting. They would at times have to cast aside those merciful hearts and dye the world with blood like the murderous machines they were originally meant to be.
The Nyrnal Empire was a major threat to the Arachnea. And so long as the Arachnea sought victory, it would prioritize that over mercy. The battle between man and monster—and between monster and monster—would continue without end.
Still, there was hope that the world the Arachnea’s queen envisioned could become a reality. Furthermore, there was still hope for those who had died in the many battles which had taken place thus far.
“I see it...! Oh, it’s a girl!”
A newborn’s first cry echoed throughout the Dukedom of Schtraut. Her mother, her father, and their midwife watched over her with affection, blessing her new life.
“She’s adorable... She looks just like you,” the child’s father said, picking up the infant and cradling her in his arms.
“She sure does. What should we call her?” asked her mother.
“How about... Isabelle? Not a bad name, right?” He rocked the baby back and forth in an attempt to quell its wails.
“Yes... It’s a wonderful name, darling. Let’s go with Isabelle.”
Neither of them had any knowledge of the Arachnea queen’s dear friend, the brave pirate who had been burned at the stake. These two had been trapped in the refugee camps at the time, so they’d had no way of witnessing what was happening in the outside world.
Despite that, they had chosen to name their child Isabelle. What meaning did this gesture hold? What happened to those who died in this world? There were only a select few who knew the answer.
♱
A white world spread out as far as the eye could see. There stood a single girl likewise clad in white. Her skin was alabaster, and her straight hair was a dark ash blonde unadorned by even a single ornament. Her sapphire eyes were presently closed, and she tilted her head toward the white skies as if in prayer.
“My dear _________,” Sandalphon murmured, “I believe you’ve been through a great deal of pain. I’m sorry to say that only more pain is in store for you. And still, we have no recourse but to rely on you. We can only put our faith in you and your immense strength.”
Her voice was thick with regret. She opened her eyes once more.
“We must trust in you if we are to save your soul from this closed-off world. We need you to keep moving forward. Together, we will destroy this vile game the devil made.”
Sandalphon knew where that game was taking place, and she knew what happened to those who died within it. It was for this reason that she had resolved to destroy the game. The malicious creature who’d created this cruel scenario in the first place was not to be forgiven.
“A person’s demise is terribly sad, but you must overcome that sorrow and move on. You must conquer that sadness by whatever means necessary, be it through vengeance or prayer. Should you stay still instead, you will have gone down the wrong path and played right into the devil’s hands. This is unacceptable; the game must be put to an end.”
Sandalphon’s words were like a prayer.
“I know it is terribly unpleasant that I can do nothing but watch over you and pray as you fight tooth and nail to survive in that world. But still, allow me the selfish wish to see you victorious. And the wish that you do not forget your human heart.”
She squeezed her eyes shut.
“In the name of our Lord, I forgive your sins. May you find salvation. And please, forgive me for being so helpless, and for not being able to be your guiding light.”
As this gruesome tale unfolded, things were in motion behind the scenes. In the shadows, a greater, grander story was weaving its own words.
♱
The Popedom of Frantz had fallen, and the world was moving into a new age. With the Popedom’s defeat, the balance of power on the continent had shifted, torn between the Arachnea and the Empire of Nyrnal. Now that the allied army had been disbanded, the smaller countries scrambled in search of Nyrnal’s protection. The Empire, with its vast and powerful armies, was all too happy to oblige.
The front lines extended from the Dukedom of Schtraut to the Popedom of Frantz, and both sides glared at each other from across the border. Unfortunately for the Empire, the chance of a successful attack on the Dukedom’s territories from Maluk’s side was exceedingly low; it had been forced to greatly divide its forces in order to occupy Maluk in the first place.
However, the Arachnea’s queen did not know this. As such, if Nyrnal were to make a move, it would be not to the west, but to the east. The next battlefield was set to be the neutral state sandwiched between the two great powers: the Eastern Trade Union.
Even now, the Eastern Trade Union shrugged off Nyrnal’s demands and showed no sign of surrendering to the Arachnea. The merchants knew the chance of their land becoming the next battlefield was high, but it wasn’t for certain. Would the Eastern Trade Union truly be the site of the next conflict?
The answer to that question hinged on the command of Grevillea, the leader of the Arachnea, and Maximillian, the leader of Nyrnal.
On this day, the Pleasure City of Khalkha glimmered like paradise yet again. All throughout the city, there was high-class wine, high-stakes gambling, beautiful women, burly men, elating narcotics, and cajoling jesters. Khalkha provided some pleasures that could be found elsewhere, but at the same time, this city was home to delights that could not be found anywhere else.
The Popedom of Frantz had denounced it as a sinful den of immorality, but the people of Khalkha saw their city as the sole oasis in this desert of a world. Nevertheless, what would they do if their utopia became a battleground? The times of peace would soon come to an end, and an era of war would begin.
Both the Nyrnal Empire and the Arachnea were eyeing the Eastern Trade Union like hungry hyenas. The nation’s riches and its infrastructure leading up to Nyrnal’s territory made it a tempting target. Additionally, whoever conquered this land would have an overwhelming advantage in the battles to come.
Come, dear spectators. Watch the upcoming battle, and don’t dare to blink. The desperate struggle to the death will soon begin.