The girl bit her lip hard. Lynn could even see the hand gripping her sword hilt trembling slightly, as though she were desperately suppressing something.
Smiling, Lynn extended two fingers and pushed aside the Blade resting against his neck.
"I heard Clown mention what happened between you and Hell. I don't know exactly what happened, but clearly you've kept up with the news. You must still have trusted followers in Hell, just as you know who I am and where I came from."
"Then you should also understand that, although I was born from your father, fate has drawn us along two entirely different paths. I can't become him, and he isn't me."
"But I'm still very happy to meet you, Aivier."
"Because I never expected you to still be alive."
Within that Great Lord's memories, he could feel the love and guilt he held toward his daughter.
That guilt remained intense even to the very last moment of those memories.
Even at the very end, when he departed.
He had never managed to say goodbye to his daughter.
At last.
The sword in the girl's hand fell to the ground. With its metallic clang, she sank down listlessly. The storm of matter in the void whipped her long hair around, making her look terribly alone.
There in the storm, she finally reached up and forcefully pulled the mask off her face.
Her blue hair flew, revealing the exquisite face beneath it. She lowered her head, biting her lip hard.
It was a breathtakingly beautiful face that bore a striking resemblance to Lynn's.
She was Painter's daughter.
Time had left not a trace on her face. She looked exactly like the girl Lynn had seen in that Great Lord's memories, except for the heartbreaking redness filling her eyes.
"Your Highness..."