I drew the sword.
Shring-!
With a cool sound, the blade revealed itself to the world. I couldn't help but marvel.
"...It's light."
Despite being a holder of such feeble strength that it would be laughable for an awakened character who has completed the third class advancent, I could swing this ceremonial longsword with ease.
Moreover,
"...You've made it too beautifully?"
The white sword was so transparent it almost seed made of glass. It didn't look like a sword but rather a piece of art.
As I continued to express my admiration, Kellibey shrugged his shoulders.
"It's the first ti I've made a ceremonial sword rather than one for actual combat. Since it was for ceremonial use, I decided to put in a bit of effort."
"Amazing, Kellibey. It's truly splendid."
"But its durability is terribly low, so you have to be gentle with it! Got it?"
Kellibey kept explaining as he circled around .
"I've included all the features you requested, and as per your request, I've deliberately dulled the blade. It won't cut paper, let alone vegetables. It's just a pretty club, a club."
"Exactly what I wanted."
"Silly guy... And about the sheath."
Kellibey cast a slightly nervous glance towards the sheath in my other hand.
"You better handle it with care. That sheath is actually more dangerous than the sword."
I looked at the sheath in my hand.
Pitch black... carrying a sinister darkness like midnight, an ominous sheath.
Rustle, rustle...
Suddenly, it seed as if sounds of darkness-eating bugs ca from the sheath.
Simultaneously, the lights in the base camp flickered all at once. As if soone had blown on a torch...
"By the great hamr!"
"Mommy?!"
Startled, Kellibey and Hannibal clung to each other. An evil aura seed to swirl around us.
"Gasp!"
I tightened my grip on the sheath, focusing my mind to infuse magic power into it.
Then, the sounds of darkness-consuming bugs ceased all at once.
The flickering lights stabilized, and the base camp was enveloped in bright light as if nothing had happened.
"I can handle this much now."
I smiled slightly, slowly inserting the ceremonial longsword [Light] into its sheath [Shadow].
Not just the sheath, but the sword itself emitted a certain demonic aura.
Not only its inherent beauty... it seed to possess a magical force that seductively caught people's eyes.
And when combined into one, inserting the sword into the sheath, the demonic aura emitted by both pieces seed to neutralize each other.
'If I'm not careful, it might consu .'
This is the Nightmare Slayer.
It can enchant people with both light and shadow.
But also, a person can wield both light and shadow.
Willing to take the risk and wield this equipnt, I thought about moving on to the next phase of the strategy as I attached the sword to my waist.
"Wait, there's more! I've included that 'transformation' gimmick you requested!"
Kellibey was about to explain more excitedly, but I didn't listen and activated the lock chanism installed in the sheath - a device known as a secret lock, locking the sword in place.
Click!
This locking chanism, usually used on ring swords, was sothing I had requested to be custom-made, and Kellibey had done a splendid job.
"Eh? Aren't you going to try the transformation?"
Kellibey, flustered as I locked the sword, stuttered in disappointnt.
It's like... giving your young son his favorite transforming robot toy, and then the son disappointingly doesn't use the transformation feature - that specific kind of look.
I smiled wryly and nodded.
"Today, there's a funeral being held in Crossroad. I should start heading over. Testing the transformation gimmick would take too long."
"But... Hmm. Well, if it's for a funeral, there's no helping it..."
Kellibey, respecting my duties as a lord, seed a bit disappointed as he continually glanced at my waist where the equipnt was.
The transformation gimmick must have been a work of pride for him.
However, using that gimmick would require testing too many things. Since it's a weapon that needs to be familiarized with through actual use.
Thus, I decided to postpone the testing and start preparing for the funeral.
"...Master."
At that mont, Hannibal cautiously called out to Kellibey. I wondered when they had developed a master-disciple relationship to use such terms.
"Would it be alright if I take a quick trip to the surface?"
"..."
After eting Hannibal's earnest gaze for a mont, Kellibey briskly stroked his beard and laughed heartily.
"Good! I'll co with you. I've been wanting to get so fresh air anyway."
"Yes!"
I quietly watched the two prepare to leave together, thinking to myself.
Kellibey might not know much about raising children, but he seems to do quite well in training disciples.
Clapping my hands, I led the way to the teleportation gate.
"Let's hurry! We don't have much ti left!"
***
West of Crossroad. The graveyard.
Here, a funeral is in full swing.
The choir is singing, holy water is being sprinkled on the grave, blessing the afterlife of the deceased...
Watching the funeral proceedings unfold, I turned my head to gaze at the graves.
In the last three months, many more graves had been added.
Since stage 27, there have been continuous deaths, and the scale has been growing. Having attended funerals non-stop recently, this scenery has beco all too familiar.
I hated that.
Becoming accustod to death, becoming desensitized to sorrow, having funerals beco a routine part of daily life... I hated it.
As the ceremony ca to an end, it was my turn to speak.
Stepping up to the podium, I cleared my throat and recited a stanza from an elegy.
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Do not accept the dark night ekly
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Those fading away should thrash and resist at day's end
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Let anger, and again anger, be directed at the fading light!
Silence followed my recitation.
The verse I chose was sowhat different from the usual funeral tributes. Thus, the citizens appeared slightly puzzled.
Taking a deep breath, I began to speak.
"This year, funerals have beco frequent, happening one after another."
From stage 27 to stage 30.
After each defensive battle, we've had four consecutive funerals.
"Have funerals beco familiar to everyone?"
My sudden question left the crowd in front of taken aback.
Unlike the usual somber funeral tributes, I addressed the crowd with an aggressive and harsh tone.
"Has it beco a regular scene to gather here after a defensive battle, to collect the bodies of our comrades, to listen to funeral songs, and to send off the dead?"
People glanced at each other.
"Have I beco used to reciting sad verses, making moving speeches, and rembering those who have fallen with tears... Has this beco natural?"
So nodded in agreent, while others shook their heads slightly.
"Or, to be frank, does it no longer sadden us when a few die? Has all this beco a routine part of our daily lives?"
Most of the crowd looked at with eyes that didn't quite grasp the intent of my questions.
I spoke with fervor.
"Do not beco accustod to it."
"...!"
"Do not consider funerals as part of your routine. Do not regard death as sothing natural. Do not beco numb to sorrow. Do not resign. Do not give up!"
I yelled out.
"Be angry!"
"...!"
"At the monsters! At death! At this war! Be angry, and be angry again! If a scab has ford over the wounds engraved in your soul, tear it off with your own hands! Bleed yourself! Revisit the pain!"
The teeth of wounded soldiers were clenched. Hands wrapped in bandages gripped into fists.
"No matter how powerful the enemy! No matter how difficult the battle! Do not resign to the notion that all these deaths were inevitable sacrifices. Think again, stretch out your arm further."
I too clenched my teeth and gripped my fist.
"There is a way. There is a clever strategy. There are tactics. We just haven't found them in ti."
"..."
"Do not accept the outco passively, resist tenaciously! Struggle desperately! Fight with all your might!"
I took a mont to catch my breath. My voice had beco a bit hoarse.
"...And, if despite fighting thus, another funeral cos to pass."
I looked around at the people.
"Then, weep."
"..."
"Do not beco indifferent, do not let go thinking you've done enough, that it couldn't be helped, mourn and rage for each death of a comrade. Do not forget that pain."
After brushing back my disheveled hair, I continued.
"We are currently facing a monuntal challenge in our front lines. Protecting the human world from monsters. And at the sa ti, preserving our humanity."
If we give up the latter.
If we grind through human lives, strip soldiers of their emotions, and operate the front lines chanically and efficiently.
Maybe clearing the stages would be easier. However.
The path I choose, and the path we choose, is not there. I've co to this conclusion long ago.
"Humanity is not sothing grand. It's you still being able to feel sorrow, still being able to feel joy, still being able to feel anger. It's about not letting that heart wear down. That is what humanity is."
I slowly nodded.
"I will find a way to protect the human world from monsters. So, I ask you, please, preserve your own humanity."
The monster front is in crisis.
Soldiers are worn out from fatigue, hastily ford groups and heroes are clashing, creating discord.
But, nevertheless.
There will be a solution.
And I am the one to find it.
"Do not just watch as the heart becos numb, as the light dims."
I murmured with strength to the people.
"Be angry."
After a mont of silence, I slowly bowed my head.
"To the 19 knights of the Vermillion Kingdom, who led the charge in protecting the world while soaring through the skies. It is because of their valiant efforts that the world has survived this ti."
"..."
"May they be rembered for soaring higher than anyone, for being braver than anyone, forever. Let us observe a mont of silence for the 19 mbers of the Sky Knights who have returned to the heavens before us."
I bowed my head first, and the people followed, bowing their heads en masse.
After the mont of silence, I stepped down from the podium. Evangeline, who was in charge of overseeing this funeral, waved her arm grandly.
Bang! The dry salute to honor the dead echoed high.
The funeral was over with that. However, the people did not disperse quickly, quietly pondering in their places.
About this death, the previous deaths.
And perhaps, about their own hearts that had beco indifferent to death over ti.
***
Mikhail was on a hill overlooking the graveyard.
Sitting on the exposed roots of an old tree, he quietly watched the funeral below.
The boy dressed in black mourning clothes looked emaciated. His once vibrant auburn hair and eyes had faded, losing their vitality in just a few days.
"Mikhail."
As I approached him, calling out his na, Mikhail did not shift his gaze from the funeral, responding in a deep, hollow voice.
"...Prince Ash. Thank you for taking care of my subordinates' funeral."
"It's my duty."
The bodies of the 19 knights of the Vermillion Kingdom were all cremated.
Here in the graveyard, empty graves were prepared for the funeral, with plans to later transfer the urns to the Vermillion Kingdom.
In front of those empty graves, people from the Vermillion Kingdom were mourning.
However, Mikhail stood apart, unable to join them at that place.
"...How about going there? Everyone is waiting for you."
When I gently suggested it, Mikhail bitterly shook his head.
"I have no face to show... I killed them all, how could I shalessly cry there?"
"Mikhail. You know accidents in battle are inevitable. Besides, I was the one who gave the orders..."
"Your tactical orders were accurate. My subordinates were perfect. The only mistake was mine, charging into the enemy lines."
Mikhail let out a weak smile.
"I'm not sure... how to hand over an urn filled with ashes to the families back ho, waiting for their return..."
"..."
"There's nothing to return but death and defeat..."
Rubbing his face with his empty hands, Mikhail murmured in a subdued voice.
"But, yes. I know. This too is my duty, as a crown prince, as a commander of the knights."
Then, staggering to his feet, Mikhail gave a precarious smile.
"Thank you, Prince Ash. Really... as you said, I'll go to my people."
"Good. They are all waiting."
Mikhail began to walk down the hill with unsteady steps.
Watching his back, Mikhail suddenly stopped and turned around.
"By the way, your speech was impressive. 'Be angry'..."
"..."
"Yes, we should be angry."
With a smile that seed on the verge of collapsing like an avalanche, Mikhail murmured once more.
"We should be angry."
Then he continued his shaky descent down the hillside.
"..."
I watched the flickering shadow of the young knight.
Praying earnestly that his fragility would not lead to his own destruction.
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