When caring for the soldiers who had fallen at the boundary,
When hearing Dardin's repeated warnings,
Cellinne and Valter had no knowledge of the pain of 'having one's mind ravaged.'
They had experienced suffering in the past,
And paradoxically, such experiences had made them reckless.
The protection of the white snowman, the abilities Yesung had granted, might have played a part in their overconfidence.
Even so, this was severe.
It felt like someone was kneading her entire brain.
The emotional shifts grew faster and faster. Uncontrollable sadness and happiness surged over her. It felt like being tempered by hot fire and cold ice.
Joy came intensely in an instant, but only sadness seemed to last forever. It wasn't a problem that could be converted to time.
"Ah, ah, ah-"
Cellinne, who had been panting like a beast, collapsed and retched. Tears streamed down over it all.
Valter wasn't fine either. Besides tears, nosebleed was staining his white beard.
Even the Dimensional Vagrant that had been crawling up the impact crater was circling around like it had gone mad.
Overload. The end result for insignificant humans
Who had approached the source that devoured minds
And witnessed it with their naked eyes.
Cellinne felt like something was collapsing—not her head, but somewhere else. She wanted to run away. She wanted to escape. Where? Anywhere far away. By wagon, by the wagon her father pulled, far away. The Rom always leave. Leave, far away, to the farthest place, to a country without such things. Where was her younger sibling? Her older sister? Her mother? The border guards were waving from afar. No, not there. She needed a place to stop. Run, run! Run more! Escape! She couldn't stay here. This wouldn't do. Collapse, break, she hated it, she wanted to stay as she was now!
Something lifted her up.
The owner of the hand that firmly grasped her weakened arm whispered.
"You can't collapse here."
"No, I hate it. I want to go."
"How pleasant it would be if you went like this. Can't you see this? The demon on the verge of tearing through the membrane and rising."
She couldn't see such things.
She struggled, but whatever was holding her arm didn't seem to intend to let Cellinne go.
A voice more cruel than the wasteland demons spoke coldly.
"Yes, go ahead. Leave the wasteland and go anywhere. You said you'd do anything as long as I let you have your revenge, but is this the result of that oath?"
How insignificant. How worthless.
She writhed with the impulse to throw herself into the black sea, but the attached hand wouldn't allow it.
If you leave here, the Star Walker will open its eyes like this. And then it will leave the wasteland to spread despair throughout Aquilonia. Is this the result you wanted? To sow despair as cruel as what you experienced?
Cellinne couldn't endure it and screamed. No, no, she wanted to stop! Let her go! She'd rather die, she wanted to die!
The voice answered coldly. Yes, try dying. If you die here, Valter will die too, and Dardin and Eva at the command post will die as well. The kingdom's citizens in the east will die, and this country will become a land of death. Yesung and I will survive, but I'm curious what expression he'll have when he looks at this country. Because he believed in you all.
Cellinne raised her head. She couldn't see anything through her tears. Crack, crack, crack. She heard the sound of something being crushed, withering, and being miserably damaged.
She didn't know what part of herself it was. She couldn't even be certain if it was actually an audible sound. Still, Cellinne asked.
"What should I do?"
Something was placed in her hand.
Something cold and well-sharpened.
Someone answered.
"Stab."
Tear through the membrane surrounding this thing.
No matter how many human minds it had absorbed, it was still just an incomplete, unfinished entity.
A demon that would become a disaster once born—the only chance to handle it was now.
Cellinne barely stood up. Even in just a few seconds, her emotions had swung wildly.
With a dripping sound, she heard nosebleed falling on her shoe tips.
Valter, who had been holding his head, spat out with difficulty.
"Can't, go, can't."
But even he had no strength left to stop Cellinne.
She staggered forward. It was just like that time. When someone who wasn't Yesung wore Yesung's body and called down the star.
Her body was light as it rolled down the steep slope below. The black mud tried to swallow her, but the tautly stretched membrane of the Star Walker supported her.
The sword slipped between her fingers as she fell.
Someone whispered into her head.
[Let's go back.]
It was such a clean sound. Let's go back. Go back. Let's go back. Where? But let's go there. To the stars, between the stars, to that place that held only the colors of nebulae and space. To a distant place, where no one could find them.
Go back. Go back. Go back. Go back. Go back. Go back. Go back. Go back. Go back. Go back. Go back. Go back. Go back. Go back. Go back.
Cellinne grasped what touched her fingertips. She was in pain. She wanted to end it. Help her. Someone, someone.
Please, anyone!
The moment she stabbed downward with the sword, with a tearing scream, black water burst out explosively, tearing through the transparent membrane. Beyond it, she could see something massive rising. Large, ominous, disgusting, nauseating, filthy, mighty, and utterly evil demon.
Just before being submerged in water, Cellinne felt her body being pulled upward. Someone took the sword.
Well done.
Those were the last words she heard before losing consciousness.
* * *
The soldiers who had left the existing command post arrived at a new camp about half a day's distance from the wasteland.
Though they were to wait here until further orders came, which should have been boring and tiresome,
The soldiers were so busy chattering about the 3rd Prince and his son-like adjutant whenever they saw each other's faces that they had no time to spare.
The biggest current topic was 'whether the 3rd Prince and his companions could return safely from the wasteland.'
Some said they would return triumphantly with great fanfare,
While others argued that no matter how skilled the 3rd Prince was in martial arts, it would be difficult to return safely.
The demons in the wasteland were harmful just by existing.
Far from leading a great army to eliminate such creatures,
How could they return safely when the 3rd Prince and his companions alone were trying to solve it?
In the worst case, they might end up in a state worse than death.
So at the garrison, opinions were divided between 'the 3rd Prince acted recklessly' and 'but the situation called for it.'
However, all soldiers equally held the same heart of worry for them.
And two days later,
They could see a single black horse entering the garrison.
The red-eyed horse was pulling a supply transport cart,
On which was loaded an unrecognizable black mass that had been butchered.
Behind the cart, people were walking wearily.
A pink-haired woman, a pale black-haired woman, a man with tied wheat-colored hair, a giant muscular old man. And the 3rd Prince with platinum hair who led them all.
Blood dried on their skin, wounds, filth.
They were definitely not in good condition. But somehow they had returned alive.
Though they looked more shabby than ordinary people,
The cheers that burst out upon seeing them were truly enthusiastic.
The messenger at the garrison delivered this joyful news to the royal castle faster than anyone.
And though no one knew who ordered it, he went around praising the 3rd Prince's achievements and might to every village he visited.
The evil wasteland, the pitiful land fallen to demons' grasp.
The 3rd Prince who appeared like a comet and the three warriors who followed him when hundreds of soldiers were struggling desperately.
The dazzlingly beautiful and strong bare-handed fighter,
The axe master who carried an axe and could cut through anything,
The physician who saved those harmed by demons.
They raised the dying soldiers and charged into the wasteland to cut down the terrible demons in one stroke.
Great heroes of Aquilonia who saved the east from hell,
Continue to watch over this country.
The story the messenger spread became good material for minstrels.
Those who were tired of songs about the great mage Eibon's achievements and the fallen Acheron Empire began proclaiming the 3rd Prince's achievements faster than anyone.
In the songs, the 3rd Prince was a hero who defeated the evil ominous star of the east and the demons that burst from it,
He was also the protagonist of a romance involving a beautiful fighter,
And received the somewhat burdensome praise of being the second coming of Acheron's founding Emperor.
The rumors spread so quickly.
When the 3rd Prince's party left the east to return to the capital, crowds who came to see them filled the roadsides.
The 3rd Prince's party, returning in an atmosphere like a rare festival held only a few times a year, stirred the hearts of the kingdom's citizens who were there.
First, the appearance of the 3rd Prince himself and the fighter was dazzlingly wondrous,
The menacing weapon of the axe master following behind flashed and heated the blood of young men.
When the kind-looking adjutant and the physician who had supposedly saved soldiers waved their hands, children who had been shrinking from the commotion giggled.
They had left hastily as if voluntarily heading to death,
Now they returned with shoulders straight before everyone's eyes. By this measure alone, it was nothing short of a triumphant homecoming.
When they passed through the royal castle gates, everyone expected everything to continue the same way.
Like the great mage's prophecy, everything was over. Their fame had risen and they had gained the kingdom citizens' support. There was no one in Aquilonia who didn't know the 3rd Prince's virtue.
So now with just a small, very small opportunity, he would be worthy of ascending to the throne.
But the atmosphere inside the royal castle was strange.
A bizarre air where they couldn't welcome them, yet couldn't send them away either.
Even the servant who opened the audience chamber bowed his head and couldn't meet their eyes.
The complexions of Cellinne and Eva, who hadn't expected this, grew slightly dark.
"Something's strange. Dardin. Do you know anything?"
"I'm sorry to say this, but even I don't know yet."
Dardin whispered quietly in response to Eva's question. He tried his best to find the cause of this uncomfortable atmosphere, but it was impossible.
Just then, the audience chamber door opened once more.
There stood the Queen together with a completely unexpected figure.
Someone supporting the Queen, who had her face covered with a veil and looked like she might collapse at any moment.
The only clue was red hair that reached below the waist.
Not only Dardin, but even the 3rd Prince stared blankly at the scene.
Why were they coming out from there? Why together with the Queen?
Dardin tried to be respectful, but the frail Queen staggered where she stood.
She gasped for breath and spoke as if she might lose consciousness.
"His Majesty, His Majesty this morning."
Leaving me behind, closed his eyes...
The Queen began to cry thinly. She who had collapsed on the spot pulled the red-haired mage and buried her face in his chest.
The mage, not knowing what to do, wrapped around her shoulders while being careful not to touch the Queen as much as possible. He still wore black gloves on his hands.
From the perspective of people who didn't know who was under the veil, it was quite a mysterious scene.
The grief-stricken Queen, and the young male mage with a kind voice who supported and gently comforted her.
Oh, this was going to be trouble.
Cellinne, Eva, and Dardin unconsciously looked at the 3rd Prince.
The face of Yurik, their 3rd Prince and one of the heroes who saved the east, was slowly crumpling.
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