Four Years Ago...
Time goes by fast for your race and your country, compared to the Sarkaz.
Not long after the titan that was Gaul collapsed, Victoria and Leithanien feasted on its remnants as quickly and ferociously as they could. It has only been a few dozen years, and the Gallic Era has long since come and gone.
You never witnessed Corsica I's battleships and cannons. You have never knew Lingones's prosperity and pride. The lands of your father's generation have been integrated into the territories of Victoria's most provincial nobles.
The uniform you wear is that of a high-ranking Victorian officer. The medals you wear are all Victorian.
You speak the most standard Victorian as the Londinier nobility do, without even the slightest hint of Gaulish accent.
When you walk before me and claim you want to negotiate with the Sarkaz, what gives you the right to call yourself Gaulish?
Your Highness, Gaul has not a single city left.
The man who stands before you is not a Gaulish man, but a Gaulish survivor.
Some of us live in Victoria, some in Columbia, and some in Leithanien. We did not choose this exile. We've long been without a place to call home.
You wish to rebuild Gaul?
......
Yes, just as you and other Sarkaz wish to rebuild Kazdel.
Two centuries ago, the Gaulish Empire's artillery battalion also surrounded the walls of Kazdel.
And now you will speak of yourself in the same breath as the Sarkaz?
Victoria was in that war against Kazdel, too. And from what I heard, the reason you and the Military Commission were able to enter Londinium was precisely because of an invitation from Duke Cavendish.
Then I'm certain you've heard what has become of him.
Ten days ago, Duke Stafford stirred up an uprising in Londinium, and Duke Cavendish stepped forward to put a stop to his scheme.
The Londinium Defense Forces joined the battle as well. Too bad. Neither Duke Stafford nor Duke Cavendish survived the other's cannonfire.
I'm sure you know this better than me. The other dukes are all paying keen attention to Londinium's situation right now. No matter what you are planning to do within the city, you will need a new helping hand.
This is how you will work with the Sarkaz.
Correct. As you can see, the Gaulish remnant will fully support all of the Kazdel Military Commission's activities in Londinium.
In exchange, we only ask that you return the few Gaulish cities to Gaulish rule in Victoria's forthcoming chaos.
What good is my promise? A nation's destruction has nothing to do with the number of cities it has.
I understand that, Your Highness.
But... We can't afford to wait for a more opportune time than this.
I know a Youth Vanguard. He once served directly under the Gaulish Emperor's Guards.
When I met him, he was already sixty-something. However, the Guards had long disappeared during the Battle of the Four Emperors. He never got the chance to become a Vieux Vanguard.
He told me about the spirited emperor, their indomitable fleet, and the troops' idle conversations during mobilization. Over the decades, he has always insisted on telling his stories in Gaulish.
Now, he lies in a small sanatorium in the Chep Borough of Londinium. I paid him a visit not too long ago, and he has already forgotten how to speak.
Even so, whenever he sees Gaulish imperial-style architecture on the telly, his muddy eyes regain their former vigor without fail, and he lifts his spasming hands to clap.
He will be gone in no more than five years.
The last generation of Gaulishmen who have truly seen Gaul with their own eyes is dying.
Your Majesty, you are right. Compared to the Sarkaz, our lives are insignificant. Our memories... cannot be passed on through our blood.
When the final witnesses pass away, our memories of Gaul will disperse with the wind like the empire. When that moment comes, Gaul will truly be lost.
All we can do is to grasp at the ashes as best we can.
Ballistae! Fire!
Hold the sealing layer! Do not let them any closer!
These Defense Forces men... A tad bit stubborn, aren't they?
Because their leader is still up there.
These soldiers... really respect their commander.
Commander, the Sarkaz are here! The Rhodes Island Operators are engaged in battle with them!
Back them up. We need to draw the enemy's attention on this facade of a battlefield to the best of our ability. To buy the Doctor time.
My guess is the mercenaries at Highbury died by your hands.
War is imminent. Both you and I know it in our hearts.
......
Ascalon, you were born and raised in Kazdel. The General plucked you from a corpse pile, the Regent taught you to use a weapon, to defend yourself and your homeland.
But now, at this moment when all Sarkaz must stand together, what are you and those Sarkaz at Rhodes Island doing?
Are you going to give our information to the Victorians? To... a group of outbloods that once trampled upon Kazdel?
You betrayed the promise you once made. You betrayed Kazdel.
Kazdel is several thousand kilometers from here.
During the civil war, you chose to become Babel's assassin. I couldn't stop you, nor did I have reason to.
After all, you were serving Her Majesty Theresa, the sole King of Sarkaz.
But what do you serve now...? A phantom of the past?
The civil war ended long ago, and now even Her Majesty Theresa has returned to our side...
Four years ago... You were the ones who killed her.
And now you will sully her death so dishonorably.
Who's the real traitor?
—Urgh!
Ascalon's attack cuts through his Arts.
The two of them have been different since they were small.
He learned much from the General. Swordsmanship, military theory, and how to play political games. Yet Ascalon remains as pure as the weapon in her hand.
On the battlefield, she cannot be swayed by any words. Her eyes always focus on her highest priority target.
Lettou...!
......
This blood...
—!
A thick, viscous, blood-red color rapidly seeps out of the ground. It turns into a barrier harder than a wall, dividing Lettou and Ascalon.
Doctor, the drones have detected another squad of Sarkaz fighters closing in on our position!
No, not just Sarkaz fighters... That surging red...
Okay, Doctor.
It's pretty much going exactly the way you said it would. He's heading straight for the top of the command tower!
The vampire's twisted stubbornness is really giving away his movements... I won't be affected by that, will I?
Good news. This command tower is very close to the city walls. I've already located the best route to the control area.
The modern communication methods that the Defense Forces are using are much easier to take advantage of than all that witchcraft the Sarkaz use. I went and disguised my drones' identification codes. None of our long distance signals will be jammed, guaranteed.
Though... drones are very fragile. If they get attacked, that's gonna be all our hard work down the drain.
I just hope that Amiya can stall those guys who really know how put up a good fight up there...
......
You're weak and foolish, Liberi.
You know a Sarkaz can easily end your life, and you choose not to run?
I am the commander...
This is my tower.
My men... They're all still here.
Perhaps I should consider cleaning them up first, then.
Hm? These Arts.... This scent...
Ah... I see, the foolish pretender is here.
This is our first proper meeting, 'King of Sarkaz.'
I've met you plenty of times before, Vampire.
Countless Self-Salvation Corps fighters sacrificed themselves because of you. I remember all their names, and their lives won't carry any less weight than they deserve just because you look down on them.
So, what do you intend to do, King?
Will you use that... pitch-black axe of yours to end me?
........
Caster team, sniper team, join me and tear down his blood defense! No time to lose. Seize the target!
All at once, black lines and bolts dart into the thick, blood-colored layer.
Nothing has changed.
You disappoint me.
Cautus, you assume the stance of a warrior, yet you deny the necessity of killing in politics. You are even weaker than Theresa.
Theresa was a ridiculous one... She tried to have the Sarkaz bow down to our invaders, namely Victoria.
And the most foolish of her actions was undoubtedly her decision to make you her successor.
Focus fire!
What a pointless struggle...
Disperse.
Hm?
Right before the tide of blood reaches Amiya, it's suddenly sliced apart in one clean cut.
——
I see.
In addition to the assassin who was your vanguard, you brought another servant with you.
I am Amiya's employee, not her servant.
Banshee.
Are you perhaps afraid?
You think... by hiding in that shell called Rhodes Island, you can refute your relationship with this counterfeit, and escape Kazdel's judgment on its traitors?
Your words are always riddled with falsehoods, Vampire.
Although only for the time being, I took off my Rhodes Island elite operator uniform the moment we decided to come to Londinium.
I'm the Lord of the Banshees.
Wheresoever I speak, there lies the Elegiac Court.
The young Banshee raises his hand.
On his dark-colored robe, his incantations quiver softly like the first drop of dew dripping down under morning sun.
It is not the crown that I follow.
It is precisely Her Majesty Theresa's ideals that have driven me this far. You took her life and desecrated it, but you can't extinguish the flame that she lit before our eyes.
How can someone who has seen daybreak return to an eternal night?