Because of my prolonged crying, my left eye swelled, and I couldn't see normally for some time. I tried to relax.
Yet, do I even have the desire to relax and feel calm after what I witnessed? No. I have no desire. I am only forced to suppress my anger and sorrow and pretend to be calm.
The place was covered in ash, and I screamed loudly.
"What a beautiful crater… A week ago, it wasn't a crater at all, but the wondrous city of Nemoria, located in the Old Kingdom, the great kingdom — a city that hid within it mighty blue flames and bizarre plants grown from corpses."
Rage consumed me, and I shouted bitterly. Yet, what will my anger and screams do now? Will they heal my wounds? Will they revive Seiji? They will do nothing.
I survived because of the ice that surrounded me.
I looked at the cloudy sky in astonishment.
"Winter… in March? I must be going insane. We're supposed to be in spring."
I walked, half-naked, my kimono torn from the explosion and my black gloves ripped.
As I walked, I closed my eyes, and for a moment, I saw myself in the Samurai headquarters. How did I get here?
Masaru sat beside me, unchanged. The black lines under his eyes still protruded, and he hadn't tidied his hair again. Wait — why am I with this madman exactly?
Masaru spoke to me with a strange smile and twisted lips:
"You came alone, Roko? Did you leave Seiji there?"
A strange feeling ran through me as he spoke. Then his eyes fell, his hands wrinkled, and his veins bulged, resembling the monsters of Nemoria. I panicked and fell from the chair.
"Are you Masaru?"
My katana was gone, and I couldn't use my power. He didn't answer me. He approached, and suddenly, I opened my eyes and found myself in the crater.
"What did I just see?"
I stepped forward heavily, feeling that crossing the crater would be like emerging from hell. I wasn't capable of it.
Each step weakened me gradually, my vision blurring.
I clutched the sheath like a crutch. At that difficult moment, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I panicked — whose hand was this?
When I turned, no one was there — only the cold and exhaustion remained.
I told myself that, and it became clear I had lied again.
My features wilted, my face grew paler. That feeling wasn't imaginary. When I turned again, I saw one of Nemoria's monsters alive.
I tried to run, took five steps, and then my body collapsed — unable to do anything.
The monster approached me with its long hand, raising it toward me, a wide crooked smile on its face. I drew my katana immediately.
My hand trembled as I gripped the katana — my last hope before the beast, thirsting for my blood.
I didn't move my hand at all. I felt my body not obeying me. The monster's face loomed in front of me, smiling, and I felt nothing.
"Raaaargh!" the monster roared violently. Its voice penetrated me, though it had no jaw to speak. The scream told me I was its next meal.
Why can't I speak? My body froze, and I began to feel an indescribable pain as my skin slowly tore.
I collapsed to the ground, and immediately the pain vanished. I saw the monster devouring my entrails while laughing.
"Am I dead?"
But it was an illusion again. No monster remained after the explosion — only their ash.
I saw a hand reaching out to me. Was it my father's hand? Suddenly, I found myself in the hut where I had lived as a child. I witnessed a scene that traumatized me forever — my father and sister's corpses. Despite the horror, I knew it was the past. I walked quickly as the scene faded.
From the bleeding of my feet, I didn't want to witness another illusion.
"I must hurry. I understand well what's happening to me."
When advancing from one level to another, a warrior passes through several stages. Among these stages, which become clear when attempting to reach level six, is illusion.
And this is what is happening to me now.
From afar, Seiji extended his hand to shake mine. I reached him, drew my sword, and stabbed him in the heart.
I laughed. "Ha… enough illusions. Only two attempts succeed; the third and fourth fail."
The illusion disappeared, and I said with a bitter smile:
"I am at level six."
Then I regained all my strength and moved quickly until I finally escaped that cursed crater.
Here, I felt I wasn't myself — a whole week of illusions, hallucinations, and strange whispers… Something inside me had changed. I didn't know what, but it would become clear later, I said.
I looked at the ash around me and said:
"I entered the Old Kingdom to discover the reason for its ruin. I will continue my path. There is no room for retreat."
Elsewhere — The Empire
Sumiyaro returned to the same library where he had met Akayama. The death of Commander Roko had been confirmed and replaced by Sumiyaro. Sumiyaro wasn't weak — he was stronger than Roko — yet this did not make him happy or proud.
He realized that people's gazes were not looking at him as a leader, but as a replacement for the leader they had known only a month prior.
Sumiyaro searched for a particular book because of Akayama's words about the Bloody Ruler. He wanted to confirm the information.
He walked among the shelves, examining them for the book until he found it — the most famous historical book in the Empire, by historian Hisamori.
The reason he went to this library was the low number of readers, making it easy to find the book.
Sumiyaro grabbed the book, sat on the table, and decided to start reading:
"The Hundred Years' War."
The book's cover was a blend of dark red and wavy black lines spreading everywhere, with faded golden letters in the center spelling "The Hundred Years' War."
Sumiyaro began reading.
The Hundred Years' War — Page One:
In my youth, I did not become a samurai or a knight, but I participated in the Hundred Years' War. Not by choice, but by force — the injured never had a choice. We lived in an era where a young man might wish to be disabled rather than participate in this war.
At eighteen, one was required to go to this damned war.
I wished to become a historian and hoped the war would end before I reached eighteen. Fate willed that I participate. When I was sent, I panicked. I know you would see me as a coward.
Even so, I had feared blood since childhood. Even when I wounded others, I closed my eyes to avoid seeing blood fall, and if I saw it, I would scream.
My fear of blood made me tremble with every step we took toward war. We were not given katanas — only poor-quality swords. Not mockery, but katanas were reserved for samurai.
No one receives this title easily. It is harder to earn than nobility. If you lose it, you live with shame for life.
Page Two:
We arrived at war. I will never forget what I saw. The sky was tainted. Every second, a cart carrying corpses arrived. Since entering this place, I felt no peace — only screams, from humans and monsters alike.
We were in the rear ranks, providing support when needed.
Now I realized that this war would be a hell etched into my memory. I envied those who did not participate.
We set up tents and were treated as servants: pitching tents, carrying corpses, retrieving weapons from blacksmiths to hand to the samurai.
Those with me felt insulted and were angry. I, however, was happy — I preferred cleaning tents over joining the battle.
Page Three:
This treatment lasted until we were summoned to the front lines. Before arriving, my heart almost stopped from fear; the screams were deafening.
We reached the war at a ruined mountain. I saw strange creatures, each unique, all dangerous. Some were humanoid with deformities — missing mouths, eyes, or massive hands. Some were barely human. I know you are curious about their appearance, but I cannot describe them — I apologize.
Before arriving, I had only heard rumors of the war being bloody, but I didn't know it was this terrifying. I did not know thousands were killed every second. I did not know seas of blood existed. I did not know humans lost their humanity in this war, and trust became nonexistent.
Page Four:
I did not move, not even blinked from fear. One warrior from the auxiliary ranks rushed to kill the monster in front of me. Its head exploded, and the monster devoured him.
My face became covered in blood. I wondered if I was just a vase in this war. As I ran toward the monster, I collapsed. A strong ringing filled my ears, and I did not hear anyone rescue me. After the war ended, I decided to walk among the corpses. I found monsters torn apart in gruesome ways, some hanging. I heard whispers among some people: "The Heart Eater."
Page Six (ignoring page five):
To such an extent does a person forget they are human? People around me began killing those beside them out of fear they were monsters. Surely, no one would emerge from this war human, ever.
End of Chapter