After the funeral procession concluded, I visited every newly made grave.
“Prince Ash.”
In front of one of the graves, a man, silently stroking his fine beard, turned to look at me.
It was Valen, the leader of the Southern City-State Alliance.
“Lord Valen.”
As I approached and called his name, he glanced briefly at the new grave in front of him. I looked at the grave as well.
It was the grave of the mercenary group, Insect Busters, who had joined us in the defense battle thanks to Valen’s introduction.
Experts in pest extermination, yet during the first battle at the forward base, five mercenaries were unfortunately captured by the King of Flies.
Unable to retrieve their bodies, they were buried in empty coffins, and having no ties to this city, there were hardly any mourners.
Only Valen stood in vigil, as if he were the chief mourner.
After a moment of silence, Valen spoke up.
“The Insect Busters.”
“Yes.”
“Truth be told, I had no personal acquaintance with them.”
“Yes.”
“I had only heard of their reputation before I scouted them to come here.”
Valen let out a long sigh.
“It feels strange.”
“How so?”
“It feels like I’ve led them to their deaths. To a very lonely and isolated end.”
“…”
“It’s not just them. Of all the soldiers I’ve brought over time, not many have survived.”
A hot wind blew by.
With my hair tousled by the late summer gust, I asked him.
“Do you regret it?”
“As the leader of the Southern City-State Alliance, I shouldn’t. But on a personal level… Yes, I regret it.”
Valen murmured bitterly, looking at me.
“Even just recruiting soldiers brings me such pain, I can only imagine how much more distressing it must be for you.”
“No matter how much my heart may burn, can it compare to the grief of the bereaved? Can it compare to the agony those who died felt in their final moments?”
How could it compare?
No matter how much my heart may burn…
I briefly paid my respects in front of the Insect Busters’ grave. After finishing my moment of silence and raising my head, Valen asked me.
“Your Highness, will there be many more deaths to come?”
“There will be.”
“Honestly, it feels like my heart might break.”
“…”
“The thought of that giant monster scares me, and the pain of losing the people I’ve brought… It’s shameful. To feel this way and still be the leader of an organization.”
“There’s no need to feel ashamed. It’s only natural for a human being.”
“What should I do? Can people as weakened as I am continue to fight?”
I thought of Candler. How she, having once fled, miraculously returned and fought again.
Such miracles, such sacrifices… I can’t demand them of everyone.
“There’s about two months left until the next battle.”
I changed the subject.
“Take that time to collect your thoughts, Lord Valen. To see if you can continue to fight, or…”
Or…
Even if you choose to leave, I can’t hold you back.
Valen, and all those who have fought here so far. I know better than anyone that they have already done their best.
That they have fought hard enough.
That it’s enough for their hearts to be broken. Because I know.
Hesitating for a moment, Valen replied with a bitter smile and bowed to me.
“I will do that, Your Highness.”
***
When the southern wall collapsed.
Many were unable to evacuate in time or were swept away by the collapse. Half of the casualties in this battle occurred here.
Among those caught in the collapse were magicians.
“…”
Junior, with reddened eyes, looked at the grave in front of her. In front of the grave, two young magicians were lying face down, wrapped in bandages, crying.
They were the young magicians who had formed a party under Junior, learning magic from Junior and Dearmudin.
When the wall collapsed, these young magicians, not yet physically hardened, were caught in the disaster.
Eventually, two died and two were injured like this.
Junior quietly approached the crying young magicians and stroked their shoulders. The three of them cried together.
“…”
Standing behind them, Dearmudin stared blankly.
“The children die, and the elderly survive.”
His hollow murmur dispersed into the summer wind.
“The children die, and the elderly survive…”
“…”
I stood quietly beside him, paying my respects.
There was nothing else I could do but mourn.
***
Skuld and Kellison.
The imperial-style funeral was not held for the Elf Queen and the Dwarf King. Instead, we held separate funerals, each adhering to the distinct customs of their respective races.
Skuld’s wooden coffin was filled with white flowers, while Kellison’s metal coffin was stacked high with gold coins.
Yet, no matter the form or the order of service.
The human heart is the same.
Elves holding hands and singing their homeland’s mournful songs, Dwarfs silently pouring cherished metals into the coffin, all were crying.
Verdandi and Kellibey, dressed in mourning clothes, tried to hold strong but eventually shed tears.
“…”
After paying my respects in front of their coffins, according to the customs of their races.
As I turned to walk away, I saw a towering figure with blue hair in the distance.
It was King Poseidon XIII of the Merfolk.
As I approached, the Merking spoke.
“I underestimated them.”
“…”
“I thought less of them because they were younger or seemed weaker… I secretly looked down upon them. I thought I was the best here, among the kings gathered for being of different races.”
Instead of his usual sign language, King Poseidon XIII expressed himself fluently in spoken language.
“But that was not the case at all. Those two were far greater kings than I.”
“…”
“To sacrifice their lives to save their subjects, to save the world… Even if I had such power, I wouldn’t have been able to do the same.”
King Poseidon shook his head, openly admitting his feelings.
“I’m ashamed of myself for presuming too much.”
“Their sacrifice is noble and grand. However.”
I stood beside King Poseidon, watching the coffins being lowered into the ground together.
The two deceased kings had left wills.
They requested to be buried here upon their death and to be reburied back in their homeland after the world had been saved. Just like that.
Watching the tombs being made in each one’s style, I continued.
“That doesn’t mean those of us who survive should feel guilty. We shouldn’t regret not having died like them. That wouldn’t be what they wished for.”
“…”
“What they’ve left behind, what we need to carry forward, that’s what’s more important.”
King Poseidon exhaled deeply, his hand trembling slightly as he held his trident like a staff.
“What did they want to leave behind in this world by sacrificing their lives…”
After bowing deeply towards the completed tombs.
King Poseidon, straightening his back, murmured heavily.
“Our Merfolk need to reflect on this as well.”
***
After visiting the tombs of all the heroes and soldiers,
I visited Burnout’s grave again last. I had been concerned because Bodybag had been crying so sorrowfully when I was here earlier.
As the sun dipped towards the west, painting the graveyards red with the sunset.
Bodybag, dressed in black mourning clothes, was crouching in front of Burnout’s grave. In front of her, Lilly was sitting in a wheelchair, also dressed in mourning attire.
“Oh!”
Holding her young son, Sid, in her arms.
The child, too young to understand the nature of a funeral, flailed his limbs innocently. He was growing quickly but was still small.
“Godfather is here, Sid.”
“Wah!”
“Ah, Your Highness! You’ve come.”
After waving back to Sid and Lilly, I headed towards Bodybag.
“Oh, my back.”
Standing all day was tiring. I groaned and plopped down next to Bodybag on the ground.
“…”
Bodybag glanced at me with reddened eyes and nodded slightly. I gently stroked her light green hair.
After a moment of silence, Bodybag slowly began to speak.
“Your Highness.”
“Yes.”
“My codename, Bodybag, means ‘corpse bag’.”
We listened quietly as Bodybag struggled to speak.
“It’s the bag used to collect and carry the dead comrades. And true to my codename, all my comrades have died, and I have carried their deaths, surviving alone.”
“…”
“I’m scared now. To become someone else’s comrade. To become close to someone else. In fear that they might die. That they, too, might end up in my body bag…”
Bodybag’s face buried into her forearm.
“All my comrades are dead. There’s no way their deaths aren’t my fault.”
“…”
“I’m scared… Maybe it would be better for me to die quickly too, to join them… Then, no more…”
I placed my arm over the trembling Bodybag and slowly began to speak.
“Bodybag. Do you know what the role of a body bag is? It’s to safely return the deaths of allies to their homeland.”
“…”
“That’s why you can’t die. You must live, live long, to remember the deaths of your comrades… their lives.”
Bodybag’s trembling eyes met mine. I nodded slowly.
“Just as Burnout wished, Bodybag. Survive. Survive and prove it. That Shadow Squad existed here. That all five of you lived here.”
“…”
“That we are fighting here, exactly you.”
After a while, Bodybag asked in a faint voice.
“Is that… enough?”
“I don’t know.”
I smiled wryly.
“But let’s start from there.”
“…”
“It’s okay to stay hunched over for a bit longer. Let’s slowly stand back up. On these ruins. Together.”
That’s when Sid, who had been looking this way from Lilly’s lap, began to flail, reaching out his hands.
With an unintelligible babble similar to “Ah-ah,” Sid’s small, chubby hand touched Bodybag’s wan cheek.
Bodybag stared blankly at Sid.
Light green mixed with a faint brown — Sid’s eyes, very much like his father, Godhand.
A faint smile passed over the tearful Bodybag’s lips. Sid laughed heartily, pressing his palm against Bodybag’s cheek.
“…”
Quietly smiling at this scene, Lilly suddenly turned her gaze towards the graves.
As if searching for a grave that wasn’t there.
The nonexistent grave of Godhand, still officially missing but whom everyone had already accepted as dead.
***
The ceasefire period proposed to us by the Black Dragon Night Bringer lasts until the next great flood.
In other words, until right before the next boss stage — Stage 40.
Stages 36, 37, 38, 39… It meant skipping four defense battles without fighting.
Of course, taking the monster’s words at face value isn’t safe, but it seems like he’s the type to keep his word faithfully. So, we’ve gained some respite, to an extent.
‘Roughly two months…’
After the funeral, in the evening.
I visited Serenade.
The Silver Winter Merchant Guild’s Crossroad branch was busy. They had been deployed at the forefront of the reconstruction efforts.
Continuously incoming supplies were being carried out again by the workers.
Passing through that busy scene.
“Serenade.”
“Your Highness! If you had sent word, I would have come out to meet you…”
“How could I when you’re so busy.”
Entering Serenade’s office, I immediately made a request.
“I have a request. Send a proclamation to every country, every city, every village in the world.”
“A proclamation, you say?”
“Call it a notice or even an advertisement, but there’s something we need to announce to the whole world on a grand scale. Can you do it?”
“Of course. It’s not a difficult task. Leave it to me.”
Pulling out fresh paper from her desk, and clutching a quill in her hand stained with ink from the day’s hard work.
Serenade looked up at me, her silver eyes sparkling behind the lenses of her glasses she wore whenever she worked.
“How should I write it, Your Highness?”
“Heroes Wanted.”
Behind Serenade, the window with wooden blinds half-drawn.
Turning my gaze towards the window leaking in the sunset, I recited as I had thought.
“Financial compensation, high. Honor and glory, exceedingly high.”
Serenade’s quill, fluently catching my words with elegant strokes, paused at my next statement.
“Survival probability, low.”
“…”
“Success probability, exceedingly low.”
…Rustle. Rustle.
The momentarily halted writing resumed as if nothing had happened. I, without showing any sign, continued.
“Yet, those who wish to save the world. Those who have something they must protect. For everything they love, to stand against destruction, to fight the world’s worst monsters.”
I concluded.
“Without exception, all should come to the world’s southern end, Crossroad.”
“…”
“By the name of Ash ‘Born Hater’ Everblack, commander of the World Guardian Front.”
My speech ended, and the writing by Serenade eventually stopped as well.
Silence descended in the office.
Serenade looking down at the sentence, and me, watching the city through the window.
The smell of ink on Serenade’s hands. The smell of paper. The scent of the bandages wrapped around me. The dry smell of blood.
The distant noise of construction, the faint shouts of workers, and the elegies softly drifting in from the graves…
“Serenade.”
Cutting through the silence between us, I suddenly asked.
“If the world were to end tomorrow, what would you do today?”
“…”
Serenade slowly lifted her head, and I turned my gaze from the window to her.
Our eyes met through the sunset streaming through the window.
After a moment of thought, she spoke.
“I’d… hold a festival in this city.”
“And?”
“I would dance with you. Until the moment the world ends.”
Serenade smiled.
So, I smiled too.
“Then let’s do that.”
“Really?”
Stepping closer to the puzzled Serenade.
I took a new piece of paper from the table, took the quill from her hand, and wrote a second proclamation.
In about a month’s time, on the upcoming new moon.
There would be an autumn festival in Crossroad.
“Even if the world really were to end…”
I smiled, handing the completed proclamation to Serenade, who blinked in astonishment.
“Would you still dance with me, partner?”
Heroes Wanted.
And the announcement of the Autumn Festival.
Holding the two proclamations, Serenade looked at me with reddened eyes for a long while… and then smiled brilliantly.
Late summer was ending, and early autumn was approaching.
The third year’s Crossroad Autumn Festival was drawing near.
–TL Notes–
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