"Bomb? Melt-Explosive Charges?!"
Herod looked around. His first thought was no longer how Raul had gotten his hands on explosives, or why they had suddenly ended up in his own hands at this moment.
Those minor details no longer mattered.
All he wanted now was to see that damned Kasgar blown to pieces!
And this bomb was his only way to take Kasgar down with him!
"Good!"
His gaze was sinister and wretched, his plan reckless and vicious.
Purple radiance flickered as madness born of jealous rage filled Herod's eyes.
Everyone's attention was fixed on the center of the stage. No one would care about the filthy thing in their hands just now.
Perfect time to strike!
Shouldering through the crowd, Herod charged forward. As he squeezed his way to the front of the stage, he yanked the pin from the device in his hand!
"Wha—"
At that very instant, Fulgrim, immersed in everyone's admiration, finally noticed Herod's last desperate strike.
She wanted to stop him.
But it was too late to mend the leak midstream.
She might not have feared it, but the workers filling the venue and Kasgar at her side had no way to escape.
At that critical moment, she moved with every ounce of speed she possessed, turning her back to the explosive and pulling Kasgar into her arms.
The once-noisy world fell utterly silent.
Boom.
The sound of an explosion rang out in the center of the packed square.
The bomb detonated, just as expected.
At such close range, even with a Primarch shielding him, Kasgar could not escape his destined death.
Could it be?
Could this couple, on the verge of marriage, be torn apart before they could even take flight together like phoenixes?
Could Fulgrim only feast upon eternal loneliness atop the towers of Chemos?
Or could it be—
That only the deepest, most agonizing tragedy could linger in one's heart forever?
—No!
The story would never end so carelessly!
Though the bomb had gone off, aside from a few startled cries behind her, she felt none of the expected shockwave.
Could it be—?
When she turned around, where was the explosion?
All she saw were celebratory cannons firing and streamers bursting forth!
Colorful ribbons drifted down one after another, decorating the formal clothes they wore.
Countless shimmering streamers, together with the exhilaration of surviving disaster, flooded the upper levels of the fortress in an instant.
"Th-This is impossible!"
And there was Herod, standing blankly in the middle of the square, watching the fireworks bloom in his hands.
"HAHAHAHAHAHA!"
After a brief silence, the people burst into laughter, freely mocking the devastated jester.
So this had all been a scheme by Fulgrim and Kasgar!
They had made that despicable, selfish noble use the party cannon in his hand to add to their celebration!
To destroy a man and then crush his spirit—what humiliation could cut deeper than that?
Seeing the two tightly embracing in the square, along with the saboteur whose face had gone ashen, the crowd erupted in thunderous cheers once more!
"Wonderful!"
"Under Fulgrim and Kasgar's leadership, we will all be redeemed!"
Yet while no one was paying attention, Raul, the lackey who had been standing beside Herod, vanished without a trace.
"Mmph!"
Kasgar struggled free from the chest of Fulgrim, who still had not recovered from the shock.
If he had not died in the blast, only to be smothered to death here instead, that would have made for an absurd comedy.
"Was this your plan?"
"Use a fake bomb to trick Herod, then turn his retaliation into a joke and his revenge into a jester's act?"
Fulgrim asked in disbelief.
Even in her self-proclaimed perfect plan, she had never considered adding such a twist to drive the atmosphere to its climax.
It seemed Kasgar could bring her far more surprises than she had imagined.
"I don't know."
Kasgar's heart was equally full of confusion.
He had never possessed the ability to deceive everyone so completely, much less create a perfect imitation of Melt-Explosive Charges from a party cannon while supplies were scarce.
At that moment, he could only feel that he was clutching something foreign in his hand.
—It was a crumpled Jester mask, somehow appearing in his hand without his notice.
A line of elegant, delicate writing was inscribed upon it:
My brother, my friend. Remember this: only laughter can dispel Thirsting lust poison.
The celebration lasted a long time.
For the first time, the laughing crowds experienced the colors of the world.
Paintings from noble households, songs from ancient legends, flowers from the upper-level greenhouses—there was a dazzling array of them all.
Amid the people's unceasing cries of wonder, they entered the eyes of ordinary citizens.
Like birds imprisoned for countless days finally breaking free from their cages, the people laughed freely and let themselves go.
The people of Chemos had endured for far, far too long simply to survive.
After completing the judgment of Herod and the others, they sat around the square and asked Fulgrim to explain the meaning of her proposal earlier.
Yes, love. That was love.
But what was love?
Before this, when had people like them ever had the time to care for or cherish others?
Looking at the crowd filled with confusion, Fulgrim raised her left hand as though she had been waiting for that question.
More precisely, she raised the Centaur gold ring on her left hand.
"That's right, this is the Centaur gold ring."
"When we first met, he was still with the Sherlock family—"
"Sis! Please, don't—mmph—"
"Sorry, Kasgar. Kasgar is still a little shy. He's so adorable. Where were we?"
Fulgrim let out a soft laugh, her tone brimming with pride.
"Oh, right. Back then, he looked at me and solemnly said, 'No matter where you ride, I will always be by your side.'"
So that was the Centaur gold ring. That was what love meant.
After hearing Fulgrim's vivid account, everyone looked at one another.
What a splendid and romantic story.
In their hearts, the meaning of the Centaur gold ring had become completely different from before.
So love was still allowed to exist in this world.
What about us, then?
Could we become like them too?
After hearing Fulgrim's story, quite a few impatient people began exchanging "Centaur rings" made of grass or screws.
Some succeeded, while others failed.
Those who succeeded excitedly held their heads high, as if they wanted to announce their happiness to the world. Those who failed could only shake their heads with bitter smiles and leave in regret.
Their laughter, teasing, anger, and curses all became part of the tale.
Whether they succeeded or failed, it was better than the numbness of not knowing why they lived.
For the first time, they understood the stars and themselves beneath them.
For the first time, they felt that they were living in the world.
The people of Chemos still had much to learn.
But fortunately, they still had time to reshape this world little by little.
The celebration ended, and everyone had gone home.
Before long, Karax Fortress would redistribute housing, ensuring that every citizen of Karax would have a place of their own in the future.
A beautiful future awaited everyone.
For now, however, Fulgrim's hand remained tightly clasped around Kasgar's, unwilling to let go for even a moment.
Though the bomb had not truly exploded, lingering fear still seemed to haunt her heart.
"Kasgar."
Seeing that there was no one else left in the square, she turned and whispered near his ear.
"What is it?"
"Praise me."
Here it came again.
But there was nothing to be done. Fulgrim was simply that kind of person.
A Primarch who endlessly pursued perfection and eternally craved recognition.
Even if it was only a small Karax Fortress, she wanted everyone there to sincerely submit to her, love her, and respect her as their flawless sovereign.
If she could not make the liberation of Karax as perfect as possible, then it still could not be considered perfect.
This was the greatest strength of Fulgrim and the Third Legion, and also the main reason they would one day fall into corruption.
"Everyone praised today's perfect performance. I doubt there's any need for me to elaborate."
"Mm... but I only want to hear it from you."
"When the bomb was about to explode, I was so scared."
Kasgar felt her rub her face against his shoulder.
"...Please."
"Praise me."
Kasgar could only look helplessly at the soft, sweet woman leaning against him.
Damn it.
How could this woman be so adorable?
"Ah! Great Fulgrim!"
"Your performance lingers like an unforgettable melody, and your creations flow from your hand like masterful prose. Even playwrights learned beyond measure could never write with such brilliance as you."
"Mm."
She gave a soft hum.
"Your wisdom sees through every detail, and your swordsmanship is divine. Under your leadership, the people of Chemos will never again follow old conventions."
"Mm... more, praise me more..."
Baby, you're a baby who's amazing at opera, meticulous in thought, deeply humane, and incredibly, incredibly strong in battle.
As Kasgar racked his brains for every flattering word he could find, he felt her hand gripping his tightly.
He sensed her lingering fear.
Perhaps this bomb that had failed to explode had delivered a harsh warning to Fulgrim, who had been immersed in vanity.
Of course, it was not only Fulgrim.
Kasgar also felt guilty.
When faced with all manner of crises, his participation had truly been inadequate.
Unlike Fulgrim.
His strength was still far from worthy of his dreams.
He needed to work harder. Much, much harder.
"New buds bloom, green returns to the old homeland;"
"Treacherous schemes are seen through, and the enemy's plots are thwarted."
Holding the young woman in his arms, Kasgar was still filled with worry:
The recapture of Karax Fortress had succeeded, and the splendid opera had entered its final act.
Yet the story would not end here.
Humming a cheerful little tune, a tall, thin jester in absurd attire walked through the wind and sand beyond the city.
"Purple-gold radiance returns to the world, and the bells of truth ring out once more."
"A new leader burns with ambition, and new ideals return to the old capital."
"A golden phoenix rises from sacred fire, while a purple phoenix descends into the waters."
"Will they repeat the mistakes of the past? Can they shatter the shackles of this cycle?"
"The roaring tide of time endures, and the twilight of Chemos has neither beginning nor end."
His cheerful steps slowed and came to a stop. He slightly raised his head, as if considering how to compose the verse that would serve as the grand finale of this performance.
"..."
"Ah."
At the very end, in the final final moment.
A sigh echoed in the wind.
The play "Karax"
had come to an end.
Before you continue