—Abandon the city and transition to a fighting retreat.
Those were the words declared by the masked man, and Yorna's cheeks stiffened, her gaze sharpening.
She had only just decided to respect the man before her, believing it was the best way to protect Chaos Flame—the city under her dominion.
But contrary to Yorna's resolve, what the man proposed was the abandonment of the city— "I cannot possibly agree to such a proposal."
"Oh? And why not?"
"What do you mean, 'why not'? This is the demonic city of Chaos Flame—the last refuge for those cast out of the Empire, with nowhere left to turn. To abandon it—"
"You cannot accept it, I see. —Foolish sentiment."
"—! Vincent Volachia...!"
Arms crossed, the man—the Empire's ruler—spoke cold words, and Yorna gritted her teeth, fixing him with a sharp glare as she called him by name. At her address, the man touched his demon mask.
And then, his black eyes—visible even through the mask—fixed upon Yorna, "The name I go by now is Abel, so that form of address is inappropriate. Furthermore, if you're thinking of begging the Emperor for mercy, that would be rather shortsighted of you."
"—'May the Imperial people be strong.' Is that it?"
"That's right."
The Emperor—no, the man calling himself Abel—claimed that was the way of the Empire.
As the pinnacle of the Volachia Empire, the Emperor must embody the iron-blooded creed that the Imperial people believe in and revere. Whether that was true or not, the Emperor had to declare it so.
Upon Abel's assertion, Yorna rebuked herself for having begged incorrectly.
Did Abel even know the truth behind that shadow—the enormous darkness that had swallowed Kurenkan?
Was that why he had reached the ruthless decision to abandon the city?
"Does my Master judge it so dangerous that we must flee immediately? What exactly is that thing?"
"—'Great Calamity.'"
"Great... Calamity...?"
In response to Yorna's question, Abel's words were quiet.
But despite the quietness of his voice, the weight of those words was more than enough to deepen Yorna's bewilderment. The expression "great calamity" said it all.
"What exactly is this Great Calamity?"
"Something that threatens the Empire's very survival, bringing about an annihilation where not even sunlight can reach. ...That is what the 'Star Reader' told me. When I first heard it, I thought it was an exaggeration."
"————"
"But looking at that thing, you can see there was not the slightest hyperbole in those words."
Chin raised, Abel declared the manifested darkness—the "Great Calamity"—to be annihilation itself.
The mention of the "Star Reader" in his words brought a bitter taste to Yorna as well. The existence of the "Star Reader" was one of the Volachia Empire's most wretched customs.
At least, that was how Yorna could only describe it.
After all, the origin of her own deeply held wish was by no means unrelated to the "Star Reader."
Be that as it may— "So then, my Master intends to take the Star Reader's words at face value and turn tail to flee? If so, that is truly a display of weakness. Hardly befitting the embodiment of the Empire's way... Yes, that is what this one thinks."
"If you think a cheap provocation will move me, you'd better correct that misunderstanding quickly. And for the record, it wasn't me who took the Star Reader's words at face value and committed an outrage."
"...It seems my Master has your own thoughts about the Star Reader."
"Anyone with a shred of sound judgment would hardly look favorably upon that. But even dismissing it as unnecessary, the next problem comes right away. That's the trouble with those things. —Hm."
"Ugh!"
Cutting off Abel mid-sentence was Rui's desperate groan.
She seemed to be taking issue with the fact that the conversation between Yorna and Abel had no direct bearing on how to deal with the "Great Calamity."
And rightly so. That "Great Calamity"— "Uaauh!"
"—.
"...What might that be?"
Abel narrowed his eyes at Rui—pointing insistently at the writhing "Great Calamity" and pleading urgently. Accepting that Abel had turned the question toward him, Yorna narrowed her own sharp eyes as well.
He could more or less guess what the follow-up question would be.
It was— "You and this girl were together, so there should have been one more—a black-haired young boy. Where has he disappeared to?"
"—If that child is..."
A glance from Yorna—her gaze spoke more eloquently than words.
What Yorna's gaze pointed toward was the "Great Calamity" that Rui was desperately pointing at. That darkness which had swallowed Kurenkan—the boy had been present at the very spot where it first spilled forth.
No—in Yorna's eyes, rather, that "Great Calamity" seemed to have overflowed from within the boy himself.
"As I thought."
Receiving Yorna's silent answer, Abel placed the final piece into his own heart.
That sounded like an ultimatum, and Yorna looked at Abel, saying "Master..." But to her address, Abel simply shook his head slowly.
"My plans may be disrupted, but there's nothing to be done. There's no point in clinging to a strategy if it yields no results."
"What does that mean?"
"It means the policy hasn't changed. We abandon the demonic city and conduct a fighting retreat. —Even so, casualties will occur. Not all of it can be prevented."
"—! That answer—"
Yorna moved to press him, unable to accept it— "Ugh—!"
"Guh...!"
Abel gasped in pain, clutching his stomach with one hand and sinking to his knees on the spot.
It was Rui who had done it—darting in faster than Yorna could close the distance and striking his solar plexus with her small palm.
Glaring at Abel for his ruthless decision, Rui snorted furiously and— "Uaauh... uaauh!"
—shouted, and with that, Rui's figure vanished from sight in the blink of an eye.
It was the instantaneous teleportation she had shown during the battle atop the watchtower, in her fight with Olbart. Unable to cover great distances, she used it repeatedly, and Rui once again returned to the battlefield dominated by the "Great Calamity."
In the distance, where Kafma was using the insects within his body to hold the "Great Calamity" at bay.
Yorna did not believe that girl possessed a decisive weapon against the "Great Calamity."
If she did, she would not have tried to rescue the boy on her own instead of relying on Abel. So, she had no trump card.
If there was a trump card to be found— "—Could the flames of the 'Yang Sword' not counter it?"
"————"
"Master!"
Kneeling on the rooftop of the building, still clutching his stomach.
While believing Rui's blow was a deserved punishment, Yorna reasoned that the one who held the key to turning the situation around was, after all, this man Abel.
The Emperor of the Volachia Empire—possessor of the true magic sword, a blade counted among the holy swords.
With the flames of the "Yang Sword," one could stand against even the existence known as the "Great Calamity"— "—I have no intention of drawing it."
But to Yorna's appeal, Abel's answer was not what she had hoped for.
And to Yorna, it could not be considered the response of a sound judgment. He had identified the "Great Calamity" as a catastrophic threat, was willing to abandon even the demonic city—yet still— "Even so, you won't draw the Yang Sword...? How can I accept that?"
"————"
"Answer me, Vincent Volachia! If you are... if you are this Empire's Emperor, you have a role to fulfill! If you are the Emperor...!"
Her vision turning red, Yorna grabbed the kneeling Abel by the collar and forced him to face her.
Even as this was happening, Chaos Flame—her city—was being pushed into ever greater peril. How long could Kafma and Rui resist the "Great Calamity"? How much had the shock of detonating Kurenkan managed to weaken its power?
She knew nothing. All she knew was that this could not continue.
If it did, Yorna's vow—her wish—would go unfulfilled.
For that, she needed this man's cooperation. Desperately, absolutely.
"If you are the 'Emperor' of the Volachia Empire..."
"...I will not use the 'Yang Sword.'"
"—You!"
When Abel stubbornly refused to budge, Yorna bared her sharp canines in intimidation.
It was exceedingly rare for her to resort to something so crude as baring her teeth like this. But if she so chose, those fangs could easily tear through the slender throat of the man before her.
But such a threat was routine for this man—the one before her.
The Emperor of the Volachia Empire was someone who endured constant murderous intent and hostility from all sides. That was precisely why that man held such a position— "You are the Emperor of the Volachia Empire...!"
"—When will you understand, Yorna Mishigure?"
"—!"
"The current Emperor, Vincent Volachia, is not the Emperor you imagine. There is no obligation for me to act according to your wishes and ideals."
At that clear declaration of separation, Yorna let out a quiet breath.
Then, releasing her grip on the man's collar, she took a single step back. Staring at Abel as he clutched his neck, Yorna gritted her teeth.
She didn't need to be told.
Regardless of whether he wore that demon mask, the man before her bore no resemblance to the man she envisioned. Even if the blood of what Yorna cherished flowed through his veins.
"...I cannot accept your words, Master."
"If we don't abandon the demonic city, we'll lose everything else along with it."
"This city is everything this one has!"
Spreading both arms wide, Yorna answered. Then she drew the kiseru from her chest, bringing the tip to flame. Immediately after, she took a deep drag from the pipe and blew it skyward.
The spreading purple smoke formed a vast, enormous cloud, heading beyond the battlefield where the "Great Calamity" writhed—toward the people of the demonic city who had witnessed that terror and were surely gripped with fear.
The cloud of purple smoke then slowly dispersed, each wisp descending upon the citizens—her beloved children—settling into each person's cupped hands.
"Love me."
Yorna's murmur was faint—audible only to Abel who stood nearby.
But her intention was understood by all who received the descending purple smoke. And so, even though her voice did not reach them, every last one of them placed the purple smoke into their open mouths.
"Be loved by me."
Yorna's continued words—her murmurs—brought nothing to anyone in particular.
If anything, those words were surely the absolution Yorna granted herself. A ritual—a prayer she needed in order to push her own heart forward.
Those to whom Yorna's purple smoke had reached, those who had taken it in, slowly, slowly raised their heads. —In their eyes, each one kindled a flame in one eye.
Those loved by Yorna, those who loved Yorna, looked up at the "Great Calamity" and began to burn with their souls.
Truly, those bound by souls—the power of "Soul Marriage" blanketed the entirety of the demonic city.
"This city—Chaos Flame—I will not lose. —Together with my Master and the rest, we shall ask that impudent guest to leave."
Yorna held her kiseru at the ready, facing forward.
From all around—the entire city—a rumbling could be heard. Fierce and terrifying, it was the sound of countless footsteps, countless stomping, countless breaths, countless fighting spirits.
The advance of the loved, drawn together by the loving call of the demonic city's master.
Taking in the sight, Yorna bent her knees lightly and launched herself high into the air.
Where that leap would take her—what awaited was the shadow of a calamity brimming with immense darkness.
As the one who would repel every last thing threatening this city— "—The 'Brilliant Colors,' Yorna Mishigure, will be your opponent."
△▼△▼△▼△ The roaring ground tremors, and the furious battle cries of the entire city ringing out as one.
Enveloped by those sounds, Abel lowered the hand he had pressed to his neck and surveyed the battlefield.
"————"
Yorna, who had made her reckless charge, was swinging remnants of the shattered Kurenkan and destroyed buildings, hammering fierce attacks into the "Great Calamity."
It was an extraordinary assault—as if bludgeoning it with entire buildings—but the "Great Calamity" was vague in its physicality, a pitch-black darkness that continued to expand in total volume. Against such an opponent, it was unclear how effective it actually was.
Was it having some effect, or was it utterly meaningless?
"—It can't be entirely meaningless."
He hadn't been swayed by Yorna's reckless attack, but it was clear from the slowdown in her offensive momentum that the opponent was not entirely impervious to all attacks.
The "Great Calamity" had swallowed Kurenkan the moment it appeared—the castle she had long used as her seat of power. Yorna's attack, born from her attachment to that home and converted into destructive force, had genuinely chipped away at the "Great Calamity's" momentum.
Without that, the "Great Calamity" would have expanded with its initial force, swallowed this demonic city in one gulp, and then stretched the abyss across the entirety of the Empire.
—Though, of course, if left as it was now, the Empire's collapse would only be postponed, not prevented.
"That too is part of what makes it so abominable."
Gnashing his back teeth, Abel recalled the slender face of the man who had foreseen the "Great Calamity."
A man who could foresee the coming threat but then conveniently refused to be asked for anything more. Or perhaps one might call him a servant of the observers.
Either way, his resentment toward that man was of no use here. If anything, it might be worth considering the perspective of someone in the same position.
"—
Gazing at the writhing "Great Calamity," Abel spoke the name he had been avoiding.
At that very moment— "Abel-chin! I'm back!"
"————"
In the cacophony where every sound risked being swallowed by ground tremors and battle cries, that high voice reached Abel's ears clearly.
Turning to look, the voice came from behind him, descending from the sky. Landing with a light sound were a waving girl and the dark-skinned woman holding her.
"You've returned. Medium. Taritta."
"We made it! But Abel-chin, this is different from the situation you described? Where's Yorna-chan?"
"—Over there."
Released from Taritta's arms, Medium touched down on the rooftop. Abel pointed his chin in response to her question. In the direction indicated, Yorna could be seen soaring through the air against the "Great Calamity," unleashing mass-based attacks using buildings in every direction.
To be precise, the ones engaging the "Great Calamity" head-on were Yorna and Kafma, who likewise possessed means of long-range attack.
However, since Kafma's thorns were also the "insects" he bred within his body, they could not simply afford to be continuously swallowed by the "Great Calamity."
Meanwhile, the gathered residents of Chaos Flame were each dismantling surrounding buildings and, working in groups, hurling them like projectiles at the "Great Calamity."
It was the terrifying group tactic Yorna had once employed against the imperial soldiers who had moved to seize the city, when she first raised the banner of rebellion against the imperial capital—using the city itself as a weapon.
However, that tactic had proven effective against groups, but against the "Great Calamity" with its bottomless reserves of power, it was unclear whether it would have any real impact.
In the first place, just looking from a distance— "The... Great Calamity... is getting bigger...?"
"It won't stop if we just leave it alone, right!? Abel-chin, what do we do?"
Gazing at the "Great Calamity" as it continued to expand gradually, Medium and Taritta pressed Abel for his decision.
Originally, the plan had been to secure Yorna's cooperation and transition to a fighting retreat while abandoning the demonic city, but that had been thwarted by Yorna's attachment to it.
In that case, everything depended on what Vincent did. No— "—Or perhaps, before that, you will change the situation yourself, Taritta?"
"Eh...?"
Being directly addressed by Abel, Taritta's sharp eyes went wide in shock.
But it was less a reaction to something completely unexpected and more the startlement of being confronted with something she hadn't expected to be raised here.
In other words, she knew exactly what Abel was referring to.
"Wh-what was with that way of saying it just now? What do you mean?"
"What I mean is simple. Taritta—what did you call that thing?"
"Wh-what do you mean, what did I—"
"—'Great Calamity.' That's what you called it. Where did you learn that name?"
At Abel's rapid-fire words, Taritta drew a sharp breath.
Medium, who had no idea what this exchange was about, rolled her eyes and murmured "Taisai...?" on her tongue—an unfamiliar word.
But Medium's reaction was the natural one.
Looking upon such an incomprehensible being and calling it the "Great Calamity"—no ignorant person could do that. Only someone who knew of that being could name it correctly.
In other words— "Were you taught by the stars how to avert annihilation?"
"—! P-please wait, I—!"
"————"
"I... am..."
Taritta took one step forward, placing her hand over her chest, but the words that followed caught in her throat.
Her face drained of all color, her eyes darting about—Taritta's abnormal state prompted Medium to rush to her side and support her. "Taritta-chan!"
But Taritta had no composure to spare for Medium's concern.
She had probably thought she could keep it hidden forever. Perhaps she had believed she could remain silent about it indefinitely.
"Fool."
There is no such thing as a secret that is always protected, or a truth that never comes to light.
At least, if you make no effort whatsoever to conceal that secret or truth, the day everything is exposed will surely come. All you can do is push that day further into the future.
Or perhaps, if you could postpone it until after your own death, one might say the secret was preserved until the end—at least within the world as that person perceived it.
"Taritta—if you know of that 'Great Calamity,' do you regret it?"
"Regret? Regret what... Abel-chin! What are you talking about!? What did Taritta-chan—"
"Quite simple. —For failing to strike me down with that arrow, in the forest."
"—Ah."
The color truly drained from Taritta's face this time, and the light in her eyes flickered weakly.
Staring directly into those eyes, Abel paused briefly, then continued.
"Or perhaps—will you now fulfill the duty bestowed upon you by fate, hunter of the deep forest? No, perhaps I should call you instead—"
"————"
"—The new 'Star Reader,' who inherited the fate to avert the Great Calamity."
△▼△▼△▼△ The violent ground tremors, the deafening roars—it was as though the very end of the world was being proclaimed.
"Ugh, ugh, uuuugh...!"
He clutched his head, tried to block his ears, but couldn't.
The cost of having only one arm. He couldn't cover both ears with both hands to completely shut out the sound of the world's end.
He pressed his right ear against his raised shoulder, jammed the fingers of his remaining hand into his left ear, attempting an imperfect earplug. It was no use.
The ground shook. The atmosphere trembled. The world was dying.
All of it was the very embodiment of the terror that gnawed at Al, draining him of all strength.
"Why... why... here of all places...!"
His voice strained as he cursed—cursed with everything he had—at the catastrophic events that had transpired in this moment.
Of course, such cursing was utterly meaningless. Because this wasn't even a matter for cursing. It was nothing more than sour grapes—a pathetic display of denial, comforting himself with "I should have done this" or "I should have done that" after the fact, pretending he hadn't truly lost.
Hadn't he been prepared for this to happen?
—No, he hadn't. He hadn't been prepared at all. No matter how many possibilities had flashed through his mind, he had turned a blind eye, optimistically telling himself it surely wouldn't happen.
There had always been a real risk of this happening while acting alongside him—Natsuki Subaru. Not just a real risk—more than enough.
In truth, this situation wouldn't have arisen with anyone other than Natsuki Subaru.
But even so, he couldn't help it. Because he couldn't leave him alone. He couldn't just walk away. Natsuki Subaru was not supposed to break there.
For that reason, it had been necessary. So he— "Well, well—here I was wondering who was all blubbering, and it's you of all people."
"—!?"
"Ka-ka-ka-ka! What kind of hop was that just now? Like a little inchworm, ha! A masterpiece, a masterpiece!"
The voice that suddenly echoed through the room made him scramble to sit up and turn around.
His wretched display must have been truly pathetic, because upon seeing it, the visitor clapped their hands—no, stomped their feet in reaction while laughing uproariously.
As it happened, clapping was apparently something the visitor could no longer do with both hands.
Because— "Good grief—my right hand went and gave out on me first, after ninety-odd years together. What a bother. How am I supposed to make ration pills from here on out? Ka-ka-ka-ka!"
So spoke the strange old man—