Dust Settled

Amid the agony of having his body and soul scorched by flames, Saliba finally broke free of his restraints. [Blood Macro-Spring] surged, knocking Horn away as he clung to Saliba and bit him relentlessly. Saliba spread his ragged wings once more.

He called the storm and spread his wings to fly.

A bright, brassy tune suddenly rang out from the harmonica Saliba carried. A deeper blue was painted across the crimson sky at the boundary, blending into a vivid rainbow.

[Rising Harmony]!

Using a wondrous object to invoke a secret pact with the [Lower Heavens], he whispered nine treasured rumors to the spirits of the upper sky. Saliba urgently commanded the heavens to open a path for him, ignoring the flames that had begun climbing his legs again as he struggled to soar upward.

Just a little longer. Soon, he would escape this nightmare.

This time, no one could keep him here!

...Could they?

What was happening?!

He beat his wings and pounded his heart with all his might. He had clearly traveled a great distance, yet the rainbow before him hadn't grown at all. It was even getting farther away.

Fear seized his heart. Saliba looked around in panic. It wasn't just the sky—everything was growing more distant, except for the pitch-black flames that clung to him like a rash.

It was clearly within reach, yet separated from him by an impassable chasm.

Because someone had promised a farewell.

And now was not the time.

Amid the fierce battle, a screen of light abruptly popped up before Horn. On its dark green surface, purple hues belonging to the principle of [Key] spread, and an abstract symbol resembling a Double-Horned Battle Axe appeared, missing half of one blade.

A card of gold and purple coalesced above it. Sharp strokes danced across its surface, sketching a spirited face bathed in the evening glow. An orchid ornament adorned her hair, and shadows covered half her face.

[—Someone has arrived!]

[The signs are unmistakable—the gate is either closed or flung wide open, the edges of shadows are sharp as blades, and the scent of moth orchids fills the air. Everything points to one thing: an Immortal has revealed her true form here!]

[An Immortal of Key is close at hand!]

The warning before him twisted like a snake, giving rise to new characters.

[Immortal: Veronica Cessnodike, "Blade's Vestige"]

[Aspects: Key, Edge.]

[Fair to friend and foe alike; horns turned toward enemies, scales flying toward the sun by day and resting beneath hawthorns by night.]

[She tends to guard the gates at the boundary, but she is no stranger to the laws of the Edge.]

[She has never liked pointless conflict, but do not underestimate her resolve to defend the boundary.]

Standing on the dividing line of the boundary, Veronica's antlers, white as jade, pierced the skin of her forehead and grew in twisting branches. Only one antler was intact; the other had broken off at the root. Its purple stump was so sharp that merely looking at it made one's eyes feel as if they were being sliced.

The Immortal's achievement—so long yearned for yet never attained—stood revealed before him, clear as day and beyond all doubt.

Saliba was struck as if by lightning!

He no longer even bothered to keep his heart beating, casting aside the pain of the black flames as well. He poured all his remaining Spirit into his compound eyes, where thousands upon thousands of new scarlet pupils blinked incessantly, frantically trying to discern whether this was real.

Whether it was a lifelike illusion or a trick of his own mind—please, no. Anything but this...

But no matter how Saliba begged, prayed, and despaired, the cold truth still struck him in the face.

"Impossible. Why? No, that's not right..."

As though still trapped in a nightmare, Saliba had witnessed the transformation of Veronica with his own eyes. Even his instinctive denial sounded feeble.

From her flesh to her soul, and even that faint, ethereal yet crucial divinity, everything bore witness to the undeniable truth.

It was an achievement far more profound, more complete, and greater than anything a half-baked man like him could ever hope to attain!

"Why? Why didn't anyone tell me there was an Immortal here?!"

His despairing wail was imprisoned in the same cage where close things seemed worlds away, echoing in vain.

"What's wrong? Isn't this what you've been pursuing all along?"

Her divine face showed no grief or joy, only solemnity. Veronica spoke, using an ancient formality to deliver her final judgment upon the enemy before her.

"Be not astonished. You should feel honored to behold this solemn form."

"This gate will not open for you—not now, nor ever."

Bearing the sacred name of [Kaldia], the former [Key Holder] made her solemn declaration.

"The tower pierces the firmament; death stands wide open."

Thus came the final act for the arrogant!

"Creak—"

In a place that should have been empty, an impossible side door swung open under the power of timely allowance. An ornate doorframe, decorated with pomegranates and grape blossoms, materialized. The chains that had held it fast trembled and snapped, and even its hinges seemed ready to give way.

What poured forth from within the door were the murky currents of Styx!

In the final moment, Saliba still tried to flee, to resist, to defy the fate that was bound to come. But a mass of flame clung to him, relentlessly interrupting every move he made.

It held him in its arms, refusing to let him escape the fate that had been decreed.

"You are dust, and to dust you shall return."

Styx poured forth!

Plague, blood, ambition, tears, and pain—along with the endlessly beating heart.

All of it was swallowed by the river's dark waters.

Scholars who studied the [Fire-Stealing Art] described Strife as an argument that could end only when one side was silenced completely. Now, under the force of an undeniable power, Saliba's struggling ceased, and he fell into eternal silence.

And with that, he was gone for good.

[Fate Deflection—]

[Key, unlocked!]

The final storm rose, carrying the warmth of the flames as it surged into the sky. It gently swept away the lingering dark-red clouds, and the heavens grew clear once more.

The borderland, [Blood Field], shattered. The world was no longer crimson; the fierce battle seemed no more than a dream.

But no more tears would fall, no more pain would gather. The long-held wish that had endured until now was finally released. The obsession entrusted to [Restless Blood] faded away, reaching its final end alongside its owner's death.

In utter silence, the ornate door hanging in midair slowly vanished. Veronica tucked away her half-withered, half-flourishing antlers and put on a new pair of sunglasses. The divine majesty finally faded, and her solemn pronouncement gave way to a mortal's complaint.

"Ah, honestly, I knew those old geezers were great at assigning people to things. Not one of my field assignments has ever been hassle-free!"

After venting to her superiors, wherever they were, the tall, golden-haired girl approached the crater carved out by Styx. She lowered her eyes, seemingly in mourning.

She paid tribute to this noble sacrifice.

At the bottom of the crater, surrounded by soil and rock, the crown on the boy's head had crumbled away, and the flames on his body were gradually dying out. His body was revealed, covered in mottled scales and overgrown tissue.

This was the lingering poison that had not vanished along with Saliba.

Veronica had deliberately kept the river separate. The Styx flowing from the gate had swept away only Saliba, without touching Horn, who had been locked in a desperate struggle with him. But without fuel or the support of his obsession, the great flames could no longer be sustained, and Horn had returned to his original form.

His body, long since riddled with wounds, was exposed.

After all, such overwhelming power was never meant to be wielded by a mere mortal. Forcing it into his grasp had inevitably come at a cost. Even a peaceful death would have been too merciful; mutation and corruption were his only possible end.

Yet the boy seemed not to care. He lay on his back in the dust, gazing up at the sky, no longer crimson but blue once more.

His face, smeared with ash and dust, couldn't help but break into a smile.

"I'm so tired. But it was worth it. I can finally rest easy."

"..."

Veronica etched the boy's calm words into her heart. Abandoning any futile attempt at comfort, she solemnly offered a prayer for him to the [Double-Horned Battle Axe], just as she had for every fallen comrade back when she was with the [Gate Legion].

"It was an honor to meet you, Mr. Hohenheim Lancaster. You have a noble soul worthy of your blazing blood."

With that, a hawthorn branch formed in her hand, and she pointed it toward Horn's heart from a distance.

With the highest of honors, she granted him the mercy of death.

"Eh? Ehhhhhh?"

Taking his attention away from the prompt that had appeared on the screen of light, Horn stared at the hawthorn branch hanging over him, poised to strike, and was more bewildered than ever.

Wait, I'm alive and well! I don't want to die! You don't need to do it for me in advance, please!