Final Chapter: War! War! War!

He dreamt that he was writhing in a sea of blood. There was a hand—a hand he knew he could never let go of—but he didn’t know who it belonged to. The fingers were pale and slender, like those of a young girl. He could tell he needed to protect her no matter what, but his arms were drained of all strength.

He remembered it now; the girl’s name was—

No sooner had it come to mind than she was dragged into the sea’s depths. Only faint, dreamy voices remained, lingering in his ear.

...Why did you let go?

“Elize!!”

“Eep!”

When Bastian sprung up, the girl he had remembered was there, looking as though she was about to cry. He was in a room somewhere, and a faint light—presumably from the morning sun—streamed in through the window. Underneath him was a hard bed, and his body was wrapped in white bandages, stained dark red in places by what had to have been blood.

“This is...”

“U-Um... Bastian... are you... a-alive?”

“...Elize is here... Is this... the country of light?”

“Thank God. It really is you.”

“Elize!” Bastian exclaimed, pulling her close.

“Hyah!?”

Judging by the warmth of her body, her soft skin, and her beating heart...

“You’re still alive! You’re alive, right!? You didn’t sink! I... I didn’t let go, did I?”

“L-Let go, Bastian... Ah, you can’t... Not now... S-Someone’s watching.”

“Eh?” He raised his head and looked around. A girl in glasses had turned an incredible shade of red.

“Fwaaaah...”

She was dressed like a maid and had hair so splendidly red that, had they been in Belgaria, she would have no doubt been compared to the emperor. Based on her appearance, she was around their age.

Using her hands to cover the lenses of her glasses, the girl turned her head the other way. “I-I’m not watching! Go right ahead!”

“Err... With what...?”

“C’mon, Nastyan! How embarrassing can you be!?” Elize began thrashing in his arms. Having only just realized he had pulled her into an embrace, Bastian let go, albeit reluctantly.

“Did you just call me something incredible?”

“It’s the perfect name for you. Such indecency the very moment you wake up. I thought my heart would stop from the shame. Just when... Just when I was saved by you.”

And just like that, her cheeks flushed as well. The two girls were blushing hard enough to let off steam.

“...What’s up with these two?” Unable to understand the situation at all, Bastian could do nothing except cock his head.

“Here.” The maid in glasses returned with water.

“Thank you!”

“My name is Shia. I have served the Tiraso Laverde House since I was ten years of age, and will turn seventeen this year.”

“Oh, then you’re a year older than me. The name’s Bastian. I’m studying abroad from Belgaria, and—”

Elize cut him off. “I’ve already explained the gist of it: that you’re the third son of a Belgarian count who came to study in High Britannia, only to be attacked in the town of Greybridge by some failed-mercenaries-turned-bandits.”

“Yeah, that about sums it up.”

“I know I’ve already introduced myself, but since we’re all here—I am Elize Archibald. Tragedy befell my family, and I was on my way back home from the private academy in Applewood, but... it is dangerous for a child to travel alone.”

She sure knows how to make up a story. Bastian found himself rather impressed, and the earnest-looking girl, Shia, nodded along without any visible doubt.

“I’m pretty sure I jumped into a river—how did we get out of that?” asked Bastian.

“Don’t tell me you jumped in thinking we wouldn’t be able to get out?” Elize snapped.

“N-No, I never said that...”

In all honesty, his only concern had been getting Elize to safety, but he knew she would get seriously annoyed if he admitted that.

“We were carried downstream. There were a few places where the current picked up, but we luckily made it through without major injury. You were in real danger though, Bastian—you were unconscious and took in a lot of water. We were really lucky.”

“How so?”

“A carriage belonging to the Tiraso Laverde House just happened to pass by, and they had a doctor with them. The swift measures they took saved your life.”

“I see...”

Nobles were few in number, and skilled doctors were even harder to find. He really couldn’t deny just how fortunate they had been.

“Had the sword in your stomach gone in any deeper, you would have been in critical condition.”

“Ah, so that’s it... Then I really should be thanking my book.”

“Correct.”

Bastian checked his stomach. It was wrapped in white cloth, but there was nothing else noteworthy about it.

“Huh!? Where’s my book!? What happened to my future masterpiece!?”

“Th-That’s...” Elize glanced to one side, her eyes focusing on a chair beside the bed. Sitting atop it was the book—or at least, what had once been a book. The cover had been torn off, the pages were misaligned, it had been pierced by a blade, and the damp paper had swelled almost into pulp. And, as the finishing blow, it had been completely soaked in blood.

Bastian’s lips quivered. “A-Amazing! That looks so cursed! Isn’t that just the coolest!?”

Elize sighed. “There’s no saving that personality of yours.”

“It’s really cool, seriously! Ah, but you can’t even read it anymore, can you?”

“...No. Not only did most of the ink bleed, but half of the paper also turned to mush, so this is useless as a book.”

“Makes sense.” He had jumped into a river, so he couldn’t expect much else.

“I’m sorry... Because of me...” Elize lowered her head.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“But—”

“I’m alive, which means I can still write my future masterpiece. I’ve got loads of new ideas. I can write something even more incredible!” Bastian declared, thrusting a fist into the air. The battle goes on!

“When that happens... I’ll definitely read it,” Elize said, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Yeah!”

“No matter how boring it is.”

“Oi, don’t say that while crying! You make it sound boring as hell! It’s not that bad, right!?”

Shia, who had been watching the whole interaction, let out a giggle. There was a wide smile spread across her face. “You two really get along well. You’re engaged, right?”

“...!?”

Bastian instinctively looked at Elize, but she had turned the other way at a surprising speed. Even looking at her from behind, he could tell that she was blushing—she was red to her ears.

If it embarrasses you that much, why was that the story you went for!?

Then again, it was a simple enough explanation for why she was traveling with a Belgarian noble. That was why she had told the bearded coachman something similar.

According to Shia, this house had ties to both High Britannia and Belgaria. “The main house is currently Belgarian nobility. However, back when we were still a part of a small country to the south, we thought our assets might be seized in war, so... fifty years ago, we set up a branch house in High Britannia.”

“Hm... So the main family’s in Belgaria, and this one’s a branch.”

“And thanks to that, we’re conducting business on both sides. The situation is extremely favorable—that’s what the master said, at least.”

“Ah, right. I should greet the master here...”

“You can’t get up yet,” Elize interjected, “Besides, I’ve already given them our greetings. If you want, you can greet them personally once your wounds have healed.”

“Oh, that so? Guess it does make sense to wait.” He couldn’t imagine anyone would want to be greeted by someone covered in blood.

“If you’ve got this much energy, you should be able to eat, right?” Shia stood. “The doctor said that, if you’re able to, you should eat. I’ll go and get you something.”

“Thanks, that’d be a huge help.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

With that, Shia left the room. Were they in the Tiraso Laverde family manor? Bastian could hear her footsteps very slowly fade as though she was walking down a long corridor.

He clenched his fists tight. “I’m sorry, Elize.”

“There’s nothing you need to apologize for.”

“But... what day is it now!? What town are we in!?”

“Today is the 24th, and the Tiraso Laverde manor is located in Smiles Hill, south of Greybridge.”

“...I was asleep for that long?”

“It’s a miracle you’re still alive with those injuries. You must be in a lot of pain right now.”

“It’s nothing serious.”

“Well, I won’t complain as long as you’re properly healed up.”

Elize was so kind. Why couldn’t he grant her wish? This was the first time in Bastian’s life that he had ever felt so outrageously frustrated. He had failed. He was useless.

“...I couldn’t... get you there...”

“There was nothing we could have done.”

“But we... we worked so hard!”

“It was my mistake to propose that we go to Fort Greybridge. More so, Bastian, you were the one... who put in all the work... The knights, they...” Elize’s voice quavered, and tears began to drip down her face, one by one. “H-Her Majesty... She entrusted it to me, and yet... I lost her ring!”

“It’s all my fault!”

“Waaaaaah... I tried so hard... You tried so hard... Aaaaaah... I couldn’t do a single thing!”

Bastian held Elize close, and she held him back. They each clung to the other hopelessly, crying like children.

“I’m sorry, Elize...”

“Snff... No... I... It’s all my... Waaaaaah...”

“It’s because... I lost...”

What if I had beaten Oswald? Should I have studied more about High Britannia’s state of affairs? Had I just done a little bit of research before we went to the fort... Bastian could feel his regrets quickly overwhelming him.

Meanwhile, Elize continued to cry, blaming herself entirely. The girl who held but a single wish, who shouldered the expectations of so many, and had lost so much...

But no matter how much they cried, it wouldn’t change the cold reality—they had both failed.

✧ ✧ ✧

When Elize had finally settled down, there was a knock at the door.

“It’s Shia.”

Perhaps she had been waiting in the corridor. Bastian wiped his eyes, and answered in as normal a voice as he could muster.

“...Come in.”

She entered carrying a tray. A gentle, salty scent came along with her.

“Eat up, Mr. Bastian. We have chicken stew and jacket potatoes. Take your time. Ah, and there’s enough for you too, Ms. Elize.”

“...Th-Thank you.”

“It’s fine. Now please cheer up.”

Bastian noticed a newspaper resting beside the food on the tray. He picked it up. “What’s this?”

“Oh, you’ve been out for four days, so the master said you might want to read it.”

“I see. Give him my thanks.” Bastian could already tell the news would not bring a smile to their faces. Even so, he had to make sure. He opened the paper, and with Elize looking over his shoulder, they read along together.

Queen Margaret Stillart Enthroned!

Stillart Year 42, April 23rd.

During the Daybreak Declaration, Parliament has announced the coronation of Her Majesty Margaret Stillart.

Her Majesty promises “assertive diplomacy for the stability and prosperity of our nation.”

Bastian continued holding the paper after he’d finished reading. He couldn’t accept it.

Pat. Pat. Pat. The sound of hurried footsteps grew nearer, and all of a sudden the door was forcefully thrown open without so much as a knock. It was another maid.

“Shia, big news!”

“What happened?”

“It’s war! The men are raising a ruckus about it!”

On hearing this news, Shia opened the window. There was a large courtyard right outside the room, in which butlers, gardeners, and carpenters had gathered, all raising their voices. There were extras in their hands—thin newspapers for special occasions.

“It’s war! The war has begun!” one man yelled.

“Yeah, it’s finally here! We issued a declaration to Belgaria!” cheered another.

“The war has begun!”

✧ ✧ ✧

Stillart Year 42, April 23rd—

The monarchy of High Britannia declared war on the Belgarian Empire. The next morning, they commenced an attack on the port of Ciennbourg in the territory of Duke Touranne. The Empire sent its Second Army to meet the attackers.

✧ ✧ ✧

Their first land war in a neighboring territory, the Battle of Ciennbourg allowed High Britannia to demonstrate the overpowering might of its new cannons and rifles to the world. On the imperial side, Second Prince Latrielle, commander of the First Army, invoked the name of the emperor to issue an order to sortie.

✧ ✧ ✧

High Britannia and Belgaria were thrust into an all-out war.