Farewell

After searching all morning, Xilian had found no other survivors. He pushed open door after door and opened cellar after cellar, only to find corrupted Demons inside. Before they could attack him, the brilliant sunlight burned them to ash.

Ash. There was ash everywhere.

He could not imagine how many people had become Demons, or how many Demons had burned away beneath the sun. Their bodies had set some houses alight. Xilian tried to put out the fires, but the flames only grew, and in the end he could do nothing but watch.

The fire stopped spreading when it reached the area near the Town Hall. Beneath the blackened wreckage, still more ash drifted through the air.

Xilian stared at the gray-white flakes filling the sky. They landed on his skin, still hot to the touch, and settled on the buildings like a thick layer of snow.

Perhaps his grief had gone so deep that he had become numb. He felt nothing at the sight of the ruins around him.

When he returned to the Armory, the survivors had reached the limits of their endurance after the night's ordeal. They lay on the floor, sleeping fitfully. Only Tim remained awake, tending to one task after another.

"There are no survivors outside."

Xilian got straight to the point. "I gathered some food and water, along with the Soul Marrow our teacher handed out to the townspeople for emergencies."

He lifted a heavy bag and continued, "There isn't much Soul Marrow, but it's enough to get us through a few nights."

"The Torchlight Lighthouse has collapsed, a great many buildings have burned down, and the townspeople are dead..."

Xilian said much more in a rush before concluding, "White Cliff Town is no longer a place where we can survive. If we want to live, we have to leave."

Before Tim could answer, Xilian hurried to the round table and spread out the map.

One crisis had just ended, but another was already on its way. If Xilian wanted to keep anyone else from dying, he had to seize every opportunity and make every minute count.

"None of us has ever left White Cliff Town, let alone traveled all the way to Her City. But we're in danger. We have to set out at once."

Xilian began planning a route. "With the Soul Marrow I collected and what's stored in the Armory, we can theoretically last at least seven days and nights in the Wilderness."

"Of course, that assumes nothing goes wrong... So if we plan around our absolute limit, we need to reach Her City on foot within seven days."

At that, Xilian cursed under his breath. "Damn it. My motorcycle's fixed, but it can only carry a few people at most."

"Xilian, listen to me..."

Tim tried to speak, but Xilian cut him off.

"Maybe... maybe we could build a simple trailer?"

A spark lit Xilian's eyes, then quickly died. His hands fell limp at his sides.

"No. The ground in the Wilderness is too rough. A trailer would fall apart easily, and it would slow us down. What... what are we supposed to do?"

His voice grew quieter until it was barely a murmur.

"Xilian!"

Tim raised his voice, finally pulling Xilian free of his frantic thoughts.

Xilian stared at Tim, his bloodshot eyes blank with confusion.

"What is it, Tim? It's almost afternoon. Then it'll be dark. We have to make the most of the time we have..."

"Xilian, calm down!"

Tim gripped Xilian's shoulders with both hands, forcing him to stop.

"Listen to me."

Tim tried to speak gently, but the slight tremor in his voice betrayed his grief.

"I know what I'm about to tell you will be hard to accept. But... but you're not a child anymore. You have to be strong. You have to bear this."

Xilian stared straight ahead without a word.

Tim led Xilian over to the survivors and carefully lifted their clothing with his sword. Their exposed skin was covered in bluish lesions and hard scales protruding from their pores.

"We did everything we could to protect them. But during last night's terrible Chaos Surge, they were all contaminated by Chaos to varying degrees."

Tim lowered his voice. "I checked. Every one of them is showing signs of corruption."

"It's daytime now, so sunlight can suppress the power of Chaos to some extent. But once night falls..."

Tim choked up. No more words came out.

Xilian finished for him, without a trace of emotion in his voice. "Once night falls, they'll all become Demons. Is that right?"

Tim nodded with difficulty.

A violent wave of dizziness struck Xilian, as though a hammer had hit him in the head. He had to brace himself against the round table. His fingers dug into its edge, his knuckles turning white, as if he might crush it.

It took him a long time to accept it. When he spoke, his voice sounded hollow, as though it came from another world.

"Then... then what was our teacher's sacrifice for?"

Nuen had burned himself away, yet he had failed to protect the survivors. All he had done was extend their lives by a few hours.

"You can't measure our teacher's sacrifice by the outcome alone!"

Tim stressed every word. "He sacrificed himself to fulfill his duty. That was his courage and his glory!"

Then his voice fell. "Even if it didn't turn out as he hoped, his sacrifice still meant something..."

Xilian slowly sank to his knees and slumped over the round table. His face was deathly pale.

"What about Ava?" Xilian asked softly. "Was Ava contaminated too?"

Tim did not answer.

His silence filled Xilian with despair.

The Armory was quiet except for the survivors' pained moans rising and falling around them.

It took Xilian a long time to gather himself again. His mind was blank, emptied of every emotion. He felt like a puppet whose soul had been pulled out, leaving only a hollow shell.

"It's... it's madness, Tim."

Xilian stumbled over the words, as though a thorn were lodged in his throat. "Before yesterday, we were celebrating. We were looking forward to White Cliff Town's future."

"White Cliff Town would be connected to Her City. We Soflova Brothers would become Torchbearers. Our teacher wouldn't have to work so hard anymore, Ava would have a new dress, and the townspeople would live better lives..."

"It was a beautiful dream, and it burned to nothing in a single night."

It felt as though someone had seized Xilian by the throat. He could barely breathe.

"Is this fate?"

Tim shook his head. "It isn't fate. It's life."

"It'll be all right, Xilian," Tim said, trying to comfort him. "We'll leave this place and see the world outside... It'll be all right..."

Only after a long silence did Xilian speak.

"I want to see Ava."

Tim let go of Xilian. "She's in the room, lying where you slept after you came back from the Wilderness."

Xilian eased the door open. His steps were light and slow, as though he were walking on cotton.

Ava lay in Xilian's old spot beneath a thick blanket. Her face was pale as winter snow. He could not tell whether she had yet to recover from her terror or whether the Chaos contamination was to blame.

"Ava."

Xilian called to her softly.

The fragile, porcelain-like face drew into a frown. It took Ava great effort to wake from her deep sleep.

"Xilian..."

Ava's voice was weak, but she stubbornly managed a smile.

What would she say next?

Would she continue the confession she had made while they danced? Would she speak of revenge against their enemies, or voice some lingering regret? Would she grow hysterical at the fate awaiting her?

Xilian waited with equal parts hope and fear, as though awaiting judgment whose verdict he could not know.

She was such a beautiful girl...

"Xilian..."

She called him again. "Come closer."

Xilian bent down and embraced the grubby little doll.

"I'm so cold and tired," Ava said. "Am I hurt?"

"No. You were frightened badly, and you've fallen ill," Xilian lied. "You'll get better after some rest."

"What about everyone else?"

"They're all here. Tim and I are planning what to do next. We'll leave White Cliff Town and head for Her City. Don't worry about the journey. I found enough supplies to get everyone through it."

Ava tilted her head, smiling. "Xilian, you're not very good at lying."

"Is my story that unbelievable?"

"It isn't the story. It's your eyes and your expression."

Ava reached out and wiped a tear from the corner of Xilian's eye. "You look so sad. It's as if I'm going to die..."

"Am I going to die?"

Xilian said nothing.

He did not know how to answer her. She was so young, with a wonderful future ahead of her. How could Ava accept that everything might end before it had even begun?

Xilian looked aside. Tim stood in the doorway with his head bowed, his expression hidden.

Tim was just as grief-stricken as Xilian. He loved this fragile girl and had imagined a future with her countless times. Even though she had given her heart to his brother, Tim had sincerely wished them well.

Ava suddenly smiled.

"I like you, Xilian."

Xilian froze for a moment, then said as though joking, "I thought you'd say you loved me."

"Love?"

Ava shook her head with the air of a sage.

"We're still too young to understand our feelings. Calling it love would make it sound too heavy... It would only tie you down."

She paused, then went on.

"But I do love you, Xilian. I love every one of the Soflova Brothers. I love the peaceful life we shared, every minute and every second of it."

With the last of her strength, Ava embraced Xilian.

She whispered in his ear as though sharing a momentous secret.

"Xilian, those days were so beautiful. Just remembering them will be enough to give you courage."

Ava kissed Xilian's forehead. Against that soft, cold touch, he heard her say:

"Don't forget us."

Xilian watched Ava in silence. She retreated little by little beneath the blanket and slowly closed her eyes. As though settling down for an afternoon nap, she fell asleep, her breathing faint.

"Come on, Xilian."

Tim patted his shoulder. It took Xilian a while to respond, and then he nodded stiffly.

They left without a word. At the Armory entrance, the afternoon sun blazed so fiercely that it made them want to hide.

"Our teacher prepared some poison for a painless death," Tim said after taking a deep breath. His voice was calm. "Letting them die peacefully in a pleasant dream is the last thing we can do for them."

"Mm."

Standing in the sunlight, Xilian said without turning around, "Once we've done that, we'll leave. The motorcycle can carry the two of us, and we'll have more than enough supplies."

Tim did not answer for a long time.

Xilian turned back in confusion. Tim stood in the shade beneath the eaves, looking both relieved and sorrowful.

Tim opened the front of his shirt.

Beside scars that had yet to heal lay broad patches of newly grown scales. They had pierced the wounds, leaving them bloody.

"Everyone was contaminated. Of course that includes me."

Tim paused, then spoke more brightly.

"Life's a strange thing, isn't it? One tiny twist can turn everything upside down."

Xilian held back his emotions and said nothing.

"I've read some of the novels you collect. I like a few of the love stories in them. You know, a young man falls for an elegant older woman and never has to work or make an effort. All he has to do is enjoy himself with her every day, until one day he dies in bed from overindulging."

Tim gave a rueful laugh. "Compared with lives like that, ours have been dark and mad. We're always swinging our swords, without a moment's rest..."

"But... Xilian, when you think about it, we might not have lived a life of pleasure, but at least we didn't die in bed."

Tim tried to make a joke of it. "Dying in bed would be a pretty pathetic way to go."

Xilian took a deep breath. "You've invented a ridiculous life for yourself, and now you're relieved you never lived it..."

"Hey, I'm just making fun of myself."

Tim smiled helplessly. Then something occurred to him, and he asked with curiosity:

"So, Xilian, what exactly went through your mind when you killed Bell with your own hands?"

Xilian kept him in suspense. "Do you really want to know?"

"Of course."

Tim brought up the past. "Didn't we always talk about things like this late at night?"

"When I killed someone for the first time, I was terrified and plagued by nightmares. Mick burst into tears and wet the bed for several nights.

"We both shared what happened to us. You were the only one who always found some excuse to avoid the subject."

Back then, Xilian had not wanted to talk, and Tim and Mick had silently agreed not to bring it up again. But now Tim's curiosity overcame that agreement.

Tim looked at Xilian expectantly. "What did you feel when you killed Bell?"

Xilian took a deep breath and gave him an answer he had not expected.

"Joy."

"Joy?"

"Yes. Unlike your unease or Mick's fear, when I killed Bell with my own hands, I felt overwhelming joy... No. It was ecstasy."

At last, Xilian gave voice to the frightening thing that had been growing inside him.

"An ecstasy that reached into my bones and made me tremble."

He let out a breath.

"I was confused for a long time. I wondered whether I was born a sociopath, some would-be deranged killer, just like the villains in those novels.

"Thinking I might be that kind of person left me anxious and lost for a long time. Until last night... when I finally saw myself clearly."

Xilian recalled the instant his Blessing had taken its true form.

Before, Xilian had thought the countless killings he had committed were what changed Blessing: Nurture Myriad Forms into Blessing: Hatred and Malice.

Now he understood. It was not the result of outside influence. It had revealed what lay in Xilian's heart all along.

"I think I really am a born killer."

Xilian sounded certain.

"But what I enjoy isn't slaughtering the weak or the innocent. It's hunting down those enemies of Chaos and cutting the bastards who betrayed humanity's glory to pieces."

At that, a sickly smile appeared on Xilian's face.

"I'm not joking, Tim. I truly enjoy killing those hideous things. It gives me a strange sense of pleasure and purpose.

"It's like... like..."

Xilian found the thread of the thought and put it into words.

"Upholding a sick, dark kind of justice."

This understanding of himself came not from objective judgment or what others thought of him, but from an unshakable instinct deep within him.

Xilian had once been troubled by self-doubt, but that brief uncertainty had not shaken what he ultimately believed about himself.

Tim gazed into Xilian's eyes for a long time. He saw only sincerity and innocence, like a child speaking earnestly of something terrible.

Grief overwhelmed Tim.

"Oh God, Xilian..."

Tim's voice trembled. He pulled his brother into a tight embrace and buried his face in his shoulder.

He knew.

With the destruction of White Cliff Town, the last warmth in Xilian's heart would die too.

In the years ahead, Xilian's narrow, obsessive sense of justice would drive him ever further down a path of killing, never once doubting he was right.

Xilian would grow cold and merciless, his heart turning to stone.

Nothing would hold him back.

No one would be able to stop him.

Tim did not want his brother to become that way, but he was powerless to prevent it. And beneath his pity, he felt a flicker of... relief that filled him with guilt.

He was glad his brother was such a madman. Glad that madman would avenge them all.

Blood for blood.

"No..."

Tim was sickened by the thought, yet part of him rejoiced. His own conflicted feelings tormented his weary heart.

In the end, Tim could only release Xilian. His eyes were full of reluctance and pity.

Still, Tim gathered his courage and said goodbye.

"You should go, Xilian. I'm the older brother. The hardest part should fall to me."

Xilian was silent for a long time. Slowly, he raised his head and let the sunlight dry his face.

Tim had lied. He had promised they would leave together and see the world beyond. They would rise to greater heights and wield extraordinary powers.

They would take revenge on Chaos. Like heroes in a story, they would proclaim justice and swear to make their enemies pay for the tragedy of White Cliff Town.

They were the Soflova Brothers. They were destined to be known throughout the world...

It had all been a lie.

From the beginning, only Xilian could leave.

Tim reached out and stroked his brother's hard, cold face, offering him a blessing.

"Don't be too sad, Xilian."

"Sad? Why would I be?"

The warmth in Xilian's heart collapsed into a black hole. His words came out hollow.

"I couldn't be happier. Don't forget, I'm a heartless bastard."

Xilian turned toward the vast world and fought to keep his voice steady.

"Besides, I'm finally leaving this hellhole. I can say goodbye to everything that held me back and move forward without anything left to worry about... Why would I be sad?"

"Then I'm glad... Goodbye, brother."

Without looking back, Xilian said,

"Goodbye, brother."

Tim took a step back and closed the Armory door.

He passed through door after door until he stood before the sleeping beauty once more. Her eyes were half-closed, as though she lingered between reality and dreams.

Tim wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes and straightened his clothes.

He knelt on one knee and held out his hand to Ava.

"May I have this dance?"

Seeing him so solemn and sad, Ava smiled. With difficulty, she reached out and placed her hand in his.

Her voice rang out like a silver bell.

"As long as you don't swing me around like a toy."