The darkness was too heavy. Celestia passed through the gates of the ruined Trevania. Beneath her cloak, her left arm, now transformed into something of the underworld, pulsed with a violet light. She had walked all the way here from the plaza. Yet her feet would not stop. She no longer knew how to stop them. The wildflower remained tucked against her chest—her hand unconsciously touched it. Ellis. Every time that name surfaced in her mind, her left arm let out a grinding sound. She couldn't control it. There was no meaning in controlling it. Her emotions had burned out completely, leaving only a cold, hollow void lying within. The light of the bonfire flickered. Gawain stood there. His black hair was streaked with ash, his left eye bore the brand. He said nothing, merely looking into Celestia's eyes. He confirmed that the light had vanished from those deep crimson irises. That was all. He stopped asking questions. Celestia shed her cloak. Quietly, she held out her underworld-touched left arm before Gawain. That was the entirety of her command. There were no words. None were needed. Gawain nodded deeply. He unfurled a parchment he had already prepared. It was a map of the underground waterways of the royal capital, Cadinare. A secret infiltration route known only to him, the former vice-captain of the Silver Shield Order. "[serious]Let's go." A single, short phrase. He tucked the map into his chest and turned his back. Without a trace of hesitation, he vanished into the darkness. Celestia headed for the hill of ruins. She simply stared toward the eastern sky—in the direction of the royal capital. --- The underground waterway was cold and dark. Gawain waded through water up to his waist. The stench of rot stung his nostrils. Keeping one hand on the wall, he chose his path at each fork, relying on memory. It was a route he had traversed countless times during the regular patrols of the Silver Shield Order. Only the sound of water echoed. Floating before his eyes were the faces of his wife and son. His family, branded as heretics by Lilianne's false testimony and executed. (Revenge.) That was his only thought. His right eye gleamed sharply in the darkness, like a hawk's. Eventually, he reached a grate. It was inside the western castle gate. Gawain drew his dagger. He removed the grate—a faint metallic sound. The gatekeeper soldiers turned around. Two of them. "Who goes—" Before he could finish, Gawain's elbow drove into his throat. The first soldier crumpled. The second tried to draw his sword—Gawain seized his wrist and twisted it upward. The sound of breaking bone. A silent struggle. Seconds later, both men lay motionless. Without hesitation, Gawain headed for the castle gate's bar. He threw his entire body into removing the heavy iron beam. The gate opened with a groaning creak. --- At that very moment— Atop the hill of ruins, Celestia raised her left arm. The underworld-touched arm released a violet light toward the heavens. It was a cold radiance that dyed even the moonlight. Across the continent, the earth stirred. From fields, from the darkness of forests, from ancient battlefields, from beneath the ground—the dead, with their ash-white skin and dark purple eyes, emerged all at once. Their number was one hundred thousand. They rose without a sound and began walking toward the royal capital. Their movement was like a wave. A black tide, silent under the moonlight, yet steadily, surely, surging toward the city walls. At the watchtower of the royal capital, a soldier screamed. "[scared]A horde of the dead—!!" Alarm bells rang out. The city was instantly thrown into panic. --- The Grand Cathedral of Lumiera. Lilianne raced up the stairs. Her vertical-drill golden curls fell into disarray. She was out of breath. But she couldn't afford to care about such things. "[angry]Why, why...!!" She stood before the Grand Sacred Stone and placed both hands upon it. She deployed the Holy Light Barrier at maximum output. A wall of white light covered the entire royal capital. The power of the Saint, which had once protected the nation. The populace raised a cheer. But— The vanguard of the dead touched the barrier. Their movement only slowed slightly. Then, they simply stepped through it. The wall of light shattered with a sound. "[scared]W-why...!!" Blood seeped from Lilianne's fingers. Her body screamed in protest at the excessive output. Her knees trembled. The Grand Sacred Stone began to lose its light. The Saint's power held not even the efficacy of a single sheet of paper against the army of the dead. "[scared]No... Nooooo!!" Her shrill scream echoed throughout the Grand Cathedral. --- The Royal Palace Underground. Prince Alvin ordered his knight guards to guide the evacuation of the populace. His face was calm. His voice was composed. "[serious]I will follow later. Get the people to safety first." The moment the knights rushed off, he dashed alone into a secret passage. That was just to buy time. It wasn't a real order. It was so that he alone could escape. The passage was narrow and dark. But the exit was close. The instant he pushed the door open— There, the dead stood lined up. Neatly. Silently. Completely blocking the exit. "[scared]Wha...!" Alvin stepped back. But the dead were closing in from behind as well. Both front and back were sealed off. Celestia had heard about the existence of this secret passage from Gawain, the former vice-captain of the Silver Shield Order. His escape route had been cut off from the very beginning. He would not be executed. He would simply be sealed in here. He wasn't a priority target to be dealt with immediately—a cold, calculated judgment lay behind that decision. --- Flames rose throughout the royal capital. The populace screamed, fleeing in panic through the alleyways. Houses burned, market stalls collapsed. The city once called the "City of Light" was now a hell of agonizing cries and chaos. Through the midst of it— Celestia walked alone. Straight through the burning castle town. The dead naturally parted to make way around her. The horde of ash-white skin split to the left and right like a wave. She did not look at the populace. She did not look at the flames. Only once did her fingers touch the wildflower at her chest. She raised her gaze. The spire of the Holy Royal Palace loomed, illuminated by the fire. The place where she had once offered daily prayers as the Saint. The bell of the Grand Cathedral, heated by the flames, fell. GOOOOONG— A strangely distorted sound echoed through the city. There was no expression on Celestia's face. No sorrow, no anger, no exaltation of victory—everything was a void. Only her feet moved forward. A being who had completely cast aside human emotion quietly advanced toward the final destination of her revenge.