CHAPTER FIFTEEN

IN THE FAR NORTH, OCTOBER 380 HE

1

Alice Synthesis Thirty placed the freshly washed plates in the drying basket and wiped her hands on the bottom of her apron before looking up.

Beyond the window, tree branches had scattered many of their yellow and red leaves with the chill of the last few days. The winter really did arrive here much earlier than in Centoria.

Still, the light of Solus looked warm in the first blue sky they’d had in days. On the thickest branch of the closest tree, a pair of climbing rabbits could be seen pleasantly sunning themselves.

Alice smiled as she watched them, then turned and said, “The weather’s so nice today; perhaps we should pack a lunch and go to the eastern hill.”

There was no response.

In the center of the little wooden cabin’s main room, which combined a living space with a dining room and kitchen, there was a plain, unfinished wooden table. Seated at one of the matching chairs was a young man with black hair. He did not react to Alice’s suggestion. He simply gazed, expressionless, at a nondescript point on the table.

He wasn’t solidly built to begin with, and by now, he was noticeably thinner even than Alice was. His bony structure was clearly visible through his loose clothing. His empty right sleeve, hanging limply from the shoulder, only added to his pitiable appearance.

His eyes, black as his hair, were empty. They reflected no light and suggested his mind was distant, completely shut off from the outside world.

Alice stifled a pain in her chest that never dulled, no matter how many times she felt it. In a cheery voice, she said, “There’s a breeze today, so we should bundle up. Hang on—I’ll get your coat for you.”

She put her apron on the hook next to the sink and headed to the bedroom. She gathered up her long blond hair and covered it with a cotton scarf. A faded black eye patch went over her vacant right eye socket. One of the two wool coats on the wall was hers, and she carried the other one under her arm as she returned to the main room.

The young man hadn’t budged. She put her hand against his scrawny back, and he awkwardly got to his feet.

But that was all the black-haired boy could do. He couldn’t even walk a single mel. She put the coat over him from behind, then circled around and tied the strings at his neck tight.

“Just one more thing,” she told him, rushing to the corner of the room.

Sitting there was a sturdy chair made of a light-brown wood. Instead of feet, it had metal wheels—two big and two small. An old man named Garitta who lived alone in the forest made it for them.

She grabbed the handles on the back of the chair and rolled it over to the young man. Before he could start wobbling or topple over, she sat him down on the leather seat, then threw a heavy lap blanket over his legs to keep him secure.

“There! Now we can go.”

She patted his shoulders, took the handles, and rolled the chair toward the door on the south side of the cabin.

Suddenly, he tilted his head and reached toward the east wall with his left hand, fingers trembling. “Aaah…aaah…”

They were no more than guttural vocalizations—nowhere close to words. But Alice could sense what he wanted right away.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll get them for you.”

Hanging on sturdy hooks on the wall were three swords.

On the right was Alice’s golden longsword, the Osmanthus Blade.

On the left, the pitch-black sword he had once worn, the Night-Sky Blade.

And in the middle, the masterless white weapon, the Blue Rose Sword.

First, Alice took the Night-Sky Blade off the wall and tucked it under her left arm; it was nearly as heavy as the Osmanthus Blade. Next, she lifted up the Blue Rose Sword. This one was only half as heavy as the black sword—inside the scabbard, there was just one half of a blade.

And the owner of this sword, the flaxen-haired boy who was the black-haired boy’s best friend, was no longer among the living…

She closed her eye briefly, then took the two swords back to the wheelchair. Once they were laid over his knees, the young man placed his hand on top of them and looked down. The only time he expressed his will with vocalizations or movements at all was when he asked for the black and white blades.

“Hold them tight, so they don’t fall off,” Alice told him, trying to ignore the throbbing in her chest. The painful memories were as fresh as ever, even after several months. She pushed the wheelchair and its extra weight out through the doorway.

Instead of stairs, the porch had a thick slab leading to the ground. Down in the garden, the soft breeze was a bit chilly, but the gentle sunlight wrapped around them.

The log cabin was located right in the middle of a little clearing deep in the woods. Alice had chopped down the trees herself, stripped the bark, and put it together. It wasn’t pretty, but she’d used the highest-quality trees she could find, so it was sturdily made. Old Man Garitta had shown her how to build it from the ground up, and the entire time, he’d remarked about how he’d never seen such a strong girl.

Apparently, this clearing had been Alice and Eugeo’s secret playground during childhood. Sadly, she could not remember any of it. The Synthesis Ritual that had turned her into an Integrity Knight had robbed her of all memory before that point.

All she told Garitta and the other villagers was that she had forgotten her past. But the truth was that Alice Synthesis Thirty, the Integrity Knight, was an entirely new personality—an imposter inhabiting the body of Alice Zuberg. She would have given this body back if she could have, but like Eugeo, the real Alice’s memories were gone from this world forever.

“…All right, let’s go.”

She set forth, pushing the wheelchair onward to drive away the moment’s recollection.

The round clearing, about thirty mels in diameter, was covered in a soft undergrowth, but on the east side, underneath a large, jutting branch, there was a thick pile of dead grass. It looked like the nest of some giant creature—which, as a matter of fact, it was—but the owner was not here. She glanced over, wondered where it was off playing now, then headed down the path that split the clearing north to south into the woods.

After about fifty mels, the path split into east and west branches. To the west was the village named Rulid, but she did not want to visit when she didn’t have a reason. Instead, she turned east, strolling through the radiant pockets of sunlight where they broke the canopy overhead.

They proceeded through the forest, which, at the end of October, was now transitioning from fall leaves to fallen leaves.

“Are you cold?” she asked, but he didn’t reply. He wouldn’t say a thing, even if they were in the midst of a raging blizzard. She glanced over his shoulder to make sure the coat was tight around his collar.

Naturally, a heat element or two would warm him up. But Rulid already had its share of suspicious residents, and she didn’t want to get into the habit of relying on sacred arts around here, lest it lead to rumors.

After fifteen minutes of travel along the beaten path (adding new wheel ruts along the way), the road ahead began to lighten. The trees steadily gave way to a steep little hill. The path began to incline, but the extra strain didn’t bother Alice.

Once they reached the top of the hill, the view opened up.

Just to the east was the blue surface of Lake Rul. On the far side was vast marshland. To the south, endless forest. Looking north, there was nothing but the snowcapped End Mountains, jutting upward to pierce the sky. Her days flying over those peaks on her dragon were nothing but distant memories now.

She wanted to see beautiful vistas with her own eyes. The bountiful blessings of earth and sun here should be enough to heal the eye that she’d lost at Central Cathedral half a year ago, but Alice was not yet ready to use sacred arts to fix her own shortcomings.

Because even with this breathtaking view of late autumn before them, the young man with her could only gaze dully into nothingness. She sat next to the wheelchair and leaned on one of the large wheels.

“It’s beautiful. More beautiful than any painting hanging on the walls of the cathedral,” she said, smiling. “It’s the world you saved, Kirito.”

A single white waterfowl ran across the surface of the lake, sending up concentric ripples, and took off into flight.

How long had they sat there?

The next thing she knew, Solus was high overhead. It was time they got back to the cabin so she could fix lunch. In his current state, Kirito ate only a small amount at a time, so if she missed any of his meals, it would have an effect on his maximum life value.

“Let’s head back,” she said, getting up and taking the wheelchair handles.

Just then, she heard the sound of footsteps on the grassy hillside and turned around. A girl in a black monastery robe was approaching. There was a dazzling, sunny smile on her young face as she waved wildly.

“Sister!” she cried out, her voice traveling on the breeze. Alice broke into a smile herself and raised her hand to wave back.

The girl raced up the last ten mels, skidded to a halt, and paused to catch her breath before bursting out with “Good morning, Alice!”

Then she hopped to the side and greeted the wheelchair-bound boy. “Good morning, Kirito!”

She beamed at him, seemingly unbothered by his lack of response, but the moment her eyes drifted down to the swords resting on his lap, a note of sadness crept over her expression.

“…Good morning, Eugeo,” she whispered, reaching out to brush the scabbard of the Blue Rose Sword. If an unfamiliar person attempted to do the same thing, Kirito might give the faintest bit of a defensive reaction, but he allowed this to happen without comment.

With her greetings finished, the girl straightened up again and turned to Alice.

Conscious of the odd warmth within her now, Alice replied, “Good morning, Selka. I’m surprised you knew we were here.”

It had taken over a month for her to refer to the girl by name without feeling strange about it.

Ever since Kirito had told her about the existence of her sister at Central Cathedral half a year ago, Alice had been desperate to meet her. But now that this wish had come true, the more she cared for Selka, the more she had to wonder whether she—not Alice Zuberg, but Alice Synthesis Thirty—was fit to be this girl’s sister.

If Selka was aware of this inner turmoil, she didn’t let it show through her beaming smile. “I didn’t use sacred arts to search for you. I went to your house, and you weren’t there, and since the weather’s so nice today, I figured you would be here. I left some fresh milk and an apple-and-cheese pie I baked just this morning on your table. You should have them for lunch.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that; I was just wondering what to prepare.”

“If he has to eat nothing but your food, Kirito’s going to up and leave you at some point!” Selka laughed.

Alice smiled back at her. “How dare you! I’ll have you know that I can make pancakes without burning them now.”

“Do I dare believe you? The first time, you tried using heat elements on them and turned them into charcoal!”

Alice tried to flick her forehead with a finger, but Selka dodged and went right in for an embrace. She pressed her face against Alice’s chest, and Alice circled her arms around her sister’s back.

It was for this moment alone that Alice wished she could be free from the pressure that weighed on her heart.

How much easier life would be if she could forget the guilt of abandoning her duty as an Integrity Knight to live in this quiet cabin in the remote forest. But Alice knew that she would never be able to forget it. Even as she embraced her sister here, the end was approaching from beyond the mountains—the tick of each passing second bringing it ever closer.

At the end of the ferocious battle at the Axiom Church’s Central Cathedral half a year ago, Alice had fallen to the marble floor, suffering wounds severe enough to kill her and only vaguely aware of what happened in the fight.

A duel to the death between Administrator, pontifex of the church, and Kirito, who was wielding two swords at once.

Administrator, incinerated by the flames of Prime Senator Chudelkin’s obsession.

Kirito witnessing Eugeo’s passing, then screaming into a crystalline board that appeared at the north end of the chamber. At the end of an exchange that Alice did not understand, Kirito’s body suddenly stiffened, and he fell to the floor—leaving the rest of the world in silence.

By the time Alice had recovered just enough life to move again, Solus’s first rays of morning were shining from the east window. With that light as her source of sacred power, Alice was able to heal Kirito’s wounds. But he did not regain consciousness, and she was forced to leave him there and use healing arts on herself next before she examined the crystal board at last.

But the glowing purple surface was now dark, and no amount of touching or commanding would provoke any response from it.

At a loss, Alice sat.

She had taken Kirito’s word and fought against the absolute tyrant Administrator for the sake of the people and her distant sister, but deep down, she hadn’t actually expected to survive.

When the horrific soldier that Administrator called a Sword Golem ran her through—

When she used her body as a shield against the devastating thunderbolt—

When she flung herself in front of the sword that attempted to end Kirito’s life—

Alice had been ready for death at several moments throughout the fight. But through the sacrifices of the little sage Cardinal, the peculiar spider named Charlotte, and Eugeo, as well as Kirito’s awe-inspiring tenacity, she had survived.

You saved my life! Now accept the responsibility for your actions! she had screamed at the black-haired youth lying on the ground beside her. But he never opened his eyes. It was as though he were telling her, Now you have to think for yourself and choose your own path.

After many minutes of cradling her knees, Alice finally got to her feet.

With the disappearance of the room’s master, the levitating disc was just as powerless as the crystal panel, so she had to destroy it with her sword. Then she put Kirito over her back and jumped down to the ninety-ninth floor.

From there, she descended the long staircase, past the senators—who were still mindlessly chanting their sacred arts—to the grand stairs of the cathedral and headed straight for her sword master, Bercouli Synthesis One, whom she’d left in the great bath.

The bathwater that Eugeo’s Perfect Weapon Control art had frozen was almost completely melted now, so Bercouli was floating, splayed out in the water. Fortunately, Chudelkin’s petrification art had been undone.

She heaved his large body onto the walkway and smacked his cheeks, calling out, “Uncle!” and the knight gave one huge sneeze before opening his eyes.

He greeted her lazily, asking whether it was morning already, and Alice tried to explain everything that had happened. When all was said and done, Bercouli looked stern and alert, but in a comforting voice, he said, “You did well, Little Miss.”

From there, the commander of the knights moved quickly. Starting with Vice Commander Fanatio, who was unharmed in the rose garden despite her defeat to Kirito and Eugeo, he gathered up the other Integrity Knights who’d been petrified in punishment, such as Deusolbert and Eldrie, then took them to the Great Hall of Ghostly Light on the fiftieth floor and told them all he could of the truth.

That after a battle with two disciples from North Centoria Imperial Swordcraft Academy, Administrator had been defeated and eradicated.

That the pontifex had been working on a terrifying plan to transform most of the citizens of the realm into monstrous weapons with swords for bones.

That the senate, the body that controlled the knighthood, was essentially composed of just one man, Prime Senator Chudelkin, who had perished along with the pontifex.

The only thing that wasn’t explained was the truth of the Integrity Knights—of how they were “produced.” Bercouli had been skeptical of Administrator’s tale that they were summoned from the celestial realm, so he was able to withstand the shock of the truth, but he determined that more time and care would need to be taken to reveal this to the other knights.

Even then, Eldrie, Fanatio, and the others were absolutely stunned. It was impossible to blame them. The absolute ruler for centuries, who exhibited godlike powers, was suddenly gone, just like that? It was not an easy thing to accept.

At the end of a fierce, chaotic debate, the knights decided to follow the commander’s orders for the moment. Perhaps much of that was due to the presence of not just Bercouli’s charisma and leadership, but the continued function of their Piety Modules. Despite the changing situation, they were still knights who served the Axiom Church, and now that Administrator and Chudelkin were gone, Commander Bercouli was undoubtedly the highest-ranking member of the church remaining.

The moment Bercouli was entrusted with leading, his mind began working toward his original duty of protecting the human realm. He, too, would have had his own doubts, naturally. He had just learned that stolen memories of his beloved had been close at hand for all those years.

Yet, he decided to firmly seal off the hundredth floor with its thirty swords for the Sword Golem and the hundreds of memory crystals inside and to hide everything from the knighthood except for the death of their sovereign. He prioritized the mission to prepare for the coming invasion from the Dark Territory over recovering the memories of all the Integrity Knights, himself included.

Bercouli started rebuilding the broken knighthood, as well as reforming and retraining the Imperial Knights of the four empires, which had had armies in name alone. Alice helped him with this, of course. With Kirito’s impromptu eye patch tied around her head, she whizzed north and south all over Centoria.

But she could not remain at the cathedral forever. Among the other Integrity Knights and the church’s rank and file that were unaware of the pontifex’s death, there was a growing demand that the traitor who’d rebelled against the Axiom Church—the still-comatose Kirito—be put to death for his crimes.

One morning, after her work was done for the time being, Alice took Kirito onto a dragon with her and left the city. It was two weeks after the bloodshed of that fearsome battle.

But that was only the beginning of her labor. While they camped out, an experience she was unfamiliar with, Kirito remained unconscious. She knew he needed a good set of walls and a roof over his head, not to mention a nice warm bed, but she didn’t have enough money for them to stay at an inn, and she was unable to bring herself to make use of her Integrity Knight status for personal gain.

That was when she remembered the name of Rulid, a place Kirito had mentioned while they were stuck on the outside wall of the tower.

Even if her memories were gone, surely the people who lived in Alice and Eugeo’s hometown would welcome them, or so she hoped. And thus, she guided the reins of the dragon north. She flew only a bit at a time to minimize the strain on Kirito’s body, so the trip across Norlangarth to the village at the foothills of the End Mountains took three whole days.

She landed in the forest a distance away from the village so as not to startle the inhabitants, then commanded the dragon to watch her cargo and carried Kirito toward Rulid on foot.

Along the way from the forest down the footpath through the fields, she met a number of villagers. They were all shocked and wary, and none of them called out to her.

The moment she arrived at Rulid, which was built on a little plateau, and passed through its wooden gate, a large young man leaped out of the nearby guard station. His freckled face was flushed as he blocked her way.

“Stop! Outsiders are not allowed in the village!” the young man-at-arms bellowed, making a menacing show of placing his hand on his sword. Then he noticed Kirito’s face, slung over Alice’s shoulder, and he stopped in his tracks, suspicious. He started mumbling something to himself before he then got a better look at Alice, and this time his eyes bulged.

“You…you! It can’t be…!”

This reaction actually came as a relief to Alice. After eight years, this man-at-arms seemed to still remember her. Choosing her words carefully, she replied, “I am Alice. Please call the elder, Gasfut Zuberg.”

Perhaps she should have called herself Alice Zuberg, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Her first name alone seemed to suffice, however. His face instantly went from red to blue, his mouth flapped wordlessly, and he dashed off into the village. He didn’t tell her to wait there, so she went through the gate and walked in after the guard.

Pretty soon, the village was buzzing like a beehive that had been disturbed. Dozens of villagers crowded the sides of the path, exclaiming with shock as soon as they saw Alice in the afternoon sunlight.

But none of them appeared to be rejoicing in the return of one of their own. If anything, they were suspicious of the woman in her metal armor and the young man sleeping on her back—even fearful.

The gentle slope eventually met a round open space at the center of the village. There was a fountain and well in the center, and at the north end, a small church with a circled cross on its roof. Alice came to a stop at the start of this clearing as the villagers looked on and whispered in fear from a safe distance.

Minutes later, the crowd parted from the east, and a man strode forward with firm intent. He was of advanced age, with a cleanly kept gray beard, and it was clear to her at once that this was the village elder of Rulid, Alice’s one-time father, Gasfut Zuberg.

Gasfut came to a stop a short distance away and examined both Alice and Kirito without expression.

Ten seconds later, he spoke in a voice that carried well despite its softness.

“Is that you, Alice?”

Alice merely said, “Yes.” But the elder did not approach her or reach out to her. In a sterner voice than before, he asked, “Why are you here? Have your crimes been forgiven?”

She didn’t have an immediate answer. She didn’t actually know what her crimes were, nor whether they had been forgiven or not.

Young Alice Zuberg had been taken by Deusolbert to Centoria for the crime of entering the Dark Territory, according to what Kirito had told her. That was indeed a violation of the Taboo Index. But as an Integrity Knight, Alice was no longer bound by that taboo. The only law to a knight was the order of the pontifex. And now that pontifex was gone. From now on, she would have to define sin, forgiveness, good, and evil for herself…

With this thought weighing on her mind, Alice stared into the elder’s eyes and replied, “As punishment for my crimes, I have lost all memory of my life as a resident of this village. I do not know if this counts as forgiveness, but I have nowhere else to go.”

It was Alice’s true, unvarnished opinion.

Gasfut closed his eyes. Deep furrows appeared along his mouth and brow. When his thoughtful frown disappeared, his eyes were harsh—and his words, even more so.

“Begone. We cannot allow a criminal to stay in this village.”

Selka seemed to sense Alice’s momentary tension. She looked up, confused.

“Sister…?” she whispered.

But Alice just smiled down at her. “It’s nothing. Come, let’s head back.”

“…Okay,” Selka said, releasing her hold but giving Alice a concerned look before her joyful smile returned. “I’ll push the chair as far as the fork in the road!”

She stood behind Kirito’s wheelchair and gripped the handles with her tiny hands. Not only was the chair itself heavy, it also held the weight of one (admittedly gaunt) adult person and one and a half Divine Object swords resting on it. It should have been too heavy for a fourteen-year-old apprentice nun who wasn’t used to physical labor—but the first time Selka had tried it, leaning forward with her feet firmly planted, the wheelchair rolled slowly forward.

“It’s a downward slope, so be careful.”

Selka hadn’t toppled the wheelchair yet, but it was still hard not to be concerned.

“I’m fine, Sister. You’re just too much of a worrywart,” she said. Apparently, when Alice had lived in Rulid, she’d done plenty of exploring and experiments with Eugeo but had been overly protective of her younger sister.

Did her basic personality remain the same even without her memory, or was it just a coincidence? Alice couldn’t help but wonder about this as she walked alongside Selka, who was absorbed in her job of pushing the wheelchair.

Once they reached the foot of the hill, the downward slope became a flat path. Selka did her best to push the chair along, now that it was heavier. As she stared at her sister hard at work, Alice found her mind drifting again into the past.

The day she was denied entry to the village, she had resigned herself to her fate as an outsider, feeling lost and dejected until Selka found her and called out to her at the tree line. Selka knew she was acting against her father’s wishes, and without her bravery and the benevolence of Old Man Garitta, Alice would surely still be wandering in the wilderness today.

Certainly, the story would have been difficult for Selka to accept, too—that her sister had finally returned home and yet didn’t remember anything of the past. That Kirito, who had spent a brief but memorable stay at the village, was now in a coma. And that Eugeo, who had been like a brother to her, was dead…

But the only time Selka cried was upon hearing the news that Eugeo would not be coming back. Since then, she had never been around Alice without a smile on her face. The strength of her heart and breadth of her benevolence never failed to amaze Alice. It was a strength more powerful and divine than any priest’s sacred arts or knight’s sword.

It was also a daily reminder of just how powerless Alice was now that she was no longer a member of the Axiom Church.

With Garitta’s help, she built a small but sturdy cabin in the woods just two kilors away from the village. Her first order of business after that was to apply powerful healing arts to Kirito, who was still in a coma.

On one cloudless day, she had headed to the most verdant spot in the forest to receive the greatest possible blessing of both Solus and Terraria, using the vast sacred power to generate ten light elements and apply them to Kirito’s body as treatment.

The healing art took Alice’s entire being and soul to produce, and it was powerful enough to heal not just a human, but the life of a massive dragon all the way to full in a single instant. No matter how deep Kirito’s wounds were, she knew that even his severed arm would immediately be restored, and he would wake up in perfect condition at once.

Once the brilliant spiritual light dissipated, Kirito’s lids did indeed open—but without any illumination in those vacant pools of black. Alice said his name over and over, shook his shoulders, even clung to his chest and screamed, but all he did was stare blankly at the sky. She couldn’t even restore his missing arm.

Four months had passed since that day, and there had not been a single sign that Kirito’s mind would ever return.

At every opportunity, Selka said that with how diligently she was caring for him, the old Kirito was sure to return someday. But silently, Alice feared this might never happen. It might be beyond her means.

Especially for a person who was nothing but a creation of Administrator.

Alice was pulled out of her reminiscence when Selka finally broke her silence and said, “I need…a break” and stopped pushing the wheelchair.

She reached down and put her hand on her younger sister’s back as the girl panted and glistened with sweat.

“Thank you, Selka. I’ll push it from here.”

“I was gonna try…to get it all the way…to the fork…”

“You got it a hundred mels farther than the last time. You’ve been a huge help to me.”

Since coming to the village, Alice had learned that a much older sister was supposed to show her appreciation by giving the younger one a bit of an allowance, but she didn’t have a single copper in her pockets now. With her current finances, losing even a single shia in the forest would be devastating, so she did not carry coins unless she was heading to the market to buy something.

Instead, she smoothed Selka’s brown hair with her palm. Her sister gave her a happy smile, breathing normally again, but there was a trace of sadness there as well.

“What’s wrong, Selka?” she asked, taking the wheelchair handles. “Is something troubling you?”

Selka hesitated. “Um…Mr. Barbossa wanted you…to take down a tree in the clearing again…”

“Oh, that’s all? You don’t have to feel bad about bringing that request to me. Thank you for letting me know,” Alice said, favoring her with a smile.

But her sister’s expression went from a downcast gaze to genuine sadness. “It’s just…they’re so selfish, aren’t they? Don’t you agree, Kirito?”

Naturally, the boy in the wheelchair did not react. But Selka carried on with renewed conviction anyway.

“Mr. Barbossa and Mr. Ridack won’t let you live in the village, but they’re more than happy to ask you for help when they need it. I know I’m the one passing on their message, but you don’t have to do this. I can bring you all the food you need from home.”

Alice giggled at the outraged pout on her sister’s face and said, “I appreciate your offer, but honestly, it’s all right, Selka. I like the home I have now, and I’m grateful that I’m still allowed to be close to the village…Once I’ve fed Kirito his lunch, I’ll be right there. Which area was it?”

“The one to the south,” Selka mumbled, then walked alongside the wheelchair in silence.

When they were nearly to the fork in the road that led to the log cabin, Selka spoke up again. “Sister, my training period will be over next year, and I’ll receive a small stipend after that. You won’t need to help them anymore at that point. I can take care of you and Kirito…I can do it for as long as…”

She lost her words then, and Alice hugged her gently. She pressed her cheek against the girl’s brown hair, which was a different color than her own but felt very similar, and whispered, “Thank you…But I’m happy enough just knowing you are nearby, Selka…”

Selka left, turning back to wave again and again in obvious reluctance, and Alice returned to the log cabin with Kirito at last, to prepare for their lunch.

She’d learned how to handle the household chores after much practice, but cooking was still a skill that eluded her. Compared to the Osmanthus Blade, the knife she’d bought at the village general store was so flimsy and weak that it took twenty or thirty minutes just to chop up the ingredients.

Thankfully, she had Selka’s fresh-baked pie today, so she cut a small piece to feed Kirito. She had to put the forkful of pie next to his mouth and wait patiently for him to part his lips so she could stick it into his mouth. Slowly, slowly, Kirito would chew the food, merely reliving distant memories of eating.

While he chewed, she, too, tasted the apple-and-cheese pie. It was probably baked by Elder Gasfut’s wife, Sadina Zuberg—Selka and Alice’s mother.

When she lived in Central Cathedral, the tables of the dining hall were laden with every delicacy from all over the world. The flavor and appearance of Sadina’s pie paled in comparison, but it seemed far more delicious. She didn’t particularly like how Kirito’s reaction was slightly more enthusiastic for the pie than it was for her own cooking, however.

After the meal was done and she’d cleaned up, she put Kirito back into the wheelchair and laid the swords across his knees. Outside the cabin, the afternoon sunlight shone golden upon their approach. The days were much shorter now, and evening snuck up fast. She rushed them back to the fork to the south and headed west this time.

Eventually, the forest gave way to a barley field nearly ready for harvest. Beyond the heavy stalks was the sight of Rulid on its hill. In the midst of the red-brick roofs was a spire that jutted above all else: Selka’s church.

Neither Selka nor Sister Azalia, the nun who ran the church, was aware that Central Cathedral, the seat of power for the Axiom Church, which presided over the four empires, was now just a hollow structure without a master. Still, that didn’t prevent the little church and its orphanage from running smoothly.

If the cathedral was in chaos after the death of Administrator, it had no effect whatsoever on the lives of the populace. The Taboo Index still functioned, constricting the minds of the people. Would they be able to pick up swords and protect their lands from disaster?

If the order came from the Axiom Church and the emperors, they would presumably obey. But that alone would not be enough to defeat the forces of darkness. At the very least, Commander Bercouli was wise enough to recognize that glaring truth.

What would decide the battle to come was not priority level of weapons nor authority level of arts—it was willpower. Kirito’s battle had proven that with the way he overcame a devastating disadvantage of strength to defeat multiple Integrity Knights, Prime Senator Chudelkin, and even Administrator.

As she approached the village, proudly absorbing the gazes of caution and fear from the residents working in the barley fields, Alice sent a silent message to her sword mentor.

Uncle, peace might not be a thing to fight for, according to the common people, but a thing that is constantly and eternally given to them. And the ones who did that…are the Axiom Church, the Taboo Index, and us, the Integrity Knights.

At this very moment, Commander Bercouli was probably busy in Centoria, training the armies of the four empires and arranging production of arms. Perhaps he was already sending troops to the Eastern Gate at the far end of the Eastavarieth Empire, where the battle would likely be the most intense. He must want every last knight he could marshal, whether for their assistance in management or just for pure battle ability.

But here I am now…

Reflecting on her current situation, she passed through the barley fields into where they were clearing the forest south of the village, and she stopped the wheelchair before a huge mound of dirt so she could survey the vast area.

Just two years ago, this had been a massive forest, even larger than the one to the east where they lived in the cabin now. But after Kirito and Eugeo cut down the monstrous Gigas Cedar that ruled over the woods and absorbed every last bit of its holy power, the men of the village were obsessed with expanding their fields, Selka had told her with annoyance.

At the center of the clearing was the tremendous black stump of the tree, and at the south end, there were dozens of villagers industriously chopping away. One of them, a burly man busying himself with orders rather than using an ax for himself, was Nigel Barbossa, the owner of the biggest farm in the village.

Reluctantly, Alice rolled the wheelchair down the small footpath. Kirito showed no reaction as he passed the stump of the enormous tree he had once cut down. He simply stared downward, cradling his swords.

The first to notice the approaching pair were the youngsters of the Barbossa clan, who were resting atop the stumps of newly felled trees. The trio appeared to be around fifteen or sixteen years old and gazed greedily at Alice with her golden hair and scarf, then glanced at Kirito in the wheelchair. They muttered to one another and chuckled.

After she passed without paying them any heed, one of the youths lazily called out, “Uncle, she’s heeeere.”

Nigel Barbossa stopped yelling orders and spun around, hands on his hips, a wide smile across his plump face. Something about his large mouth and beady eyes reminded her of Chudelkin.

Alice returned his smile to the best of her ability and bowed. “Good afternoon, Mr. Barbossa. I heard that you wanted me for something…”

“Ah, yes! Thank you for coming, Alice,” he said, stomach jiggling as he approached, arms outstretched. She prepared herself for a possible attempt at a hug, but fortunately, the sight of the wheelchair in front of her made him reconsider.

Instead, he stood just fifty cens to the right of her and twirled around, indicating a huge tree that stood at the border of the forest and the clearing. “Do you see that? We’ve been working round the clock on that infernal platinum oak since yesterday morning, but even ten grown men with axes have barely been able to nick it.”

He made a gesture with his index finger and thumb to describe a small semicircle.

The enormous oak, a good mel and a half across, stood thoroughly rooted in place, resisting the woodcutters’ efforts. Two men were trading strikes from either side of the cut, which was indeed less than ten cens in depth.

Sweat was pouring off the shirtless men like waterfalls. The muscles of their chest and arms were thick, but it was clear from the inconsistency of their swinging that they did not have regular experience with an ax.

Even as she watched, one of the men’s feet slid a bit, and the blade hit diagonally. The handle of the ax broke about halfway up, and he fell hard on his backside to uproarious laughter from the others in his vicinity.

“What are those fools doing…?” growled Nigel, then he turned back to Alice. “At this rate, there’s no telling how many days it will take to get rid of this one tree. And in the time we’ve wasted on this, Ridack’s team has added another twenty mels of land in each direction!”

Barbossa was referring to the next most-wealthy farming family in the village. He kicked at a pebble in frustration and snorted, nostrils flaring. But his scowl quickly transformed into his massive smile again as he wheedled, “So while I know our arrangement is for once every month, I was hoping you might give us some help in this one special case, Alice. You may not remember that on several occasions when you were young, I reluc—er, generously gave you sweets to enjoy. You were such a sweet young girl back then. Er, as you still are now, of course…”

Alice avoided rolling her eye as she cut him off. “I understand your problem, Mr. Barbossa. But only if it’s this one time.”

It was currently Alice’s calling—no, just her means of making a living—to clear out trees and rocks, like this platinum oak, that proved especially difficult to the process of clearing the forest for farmland.

Naturally, this was not an official job. About a month after they’d settled into the cabin in the woods, there was an incident with fallen rocks blocking the path to the pasture to the west. When Alice came across it and moved the boulder all on her own, word spread throughout the village, and people started coming to her for help.

If she was going to live with Kirito like this, they’d need at least some money, so she was grateful to have a job to do. But Selka was worried that if she kept accepting any task, the men would never stop coming to her, so she set up a system: Each farm could ask Alice for help only once a month.

Despite being beholden to the Taboo Index, Norlangarth Basic Imperial Laws, and the village precepts, Nigel was asking for a second task within the month in violation of that agreement, but Alice was not surprised by this. It wasn’t because, like Alice and Eugeo, he’d broken through the seal in his right eye—what the pontifex had called Code 871. It was simply that he viewed Alice as being beneath him. In other words, the powerful farm owner didn’t need to waste his time upholding a deal with some former criminals who lived in a dismal shack on the outskirts of town.

Meanwhile, Alice nodded to Nigel again and left the wheelchair behind. She checked on Kirito just in case, but he seemed unconcerned with the fuss around them, so she gave him a silent reassurance that it wouldn’t take long and headed for the platinum oak.

When the men spotted her, they leered and made a show of clicking their tongues in irritation. They were all aware of her strength by now, however, so they silently moved away from the tree.

She took their place and drew a quick sigil of sacred script with her right hand, bringing up a Stacia Window. The tree’s life value was tremendous, which explained why ten grown men had struggled to cut it. Its priority level was too high for her to borrow their axes this time.

Instead, she trotted back to the wheelchair, crouched, and whispered, “I’m sorry, Kirito. I need to borrow your sword for a little while.”

She brushed the black leather scabbard with her hand and sensed his arm tensing as it cradled the weapon. But when she stared patiently into the blank pools of his eyes, his arm eventually went limp, and from deep in his throat, he croaked, “…Aaah…”

Rather than an utterance of will, it was more likely the echo of some memory, Alice interpreted. The only thing controlling Kirito now was not conscious thought, but whatever memories still lingered in his heart.

“Thank you,” she whispered, retrieving the black sword from his lap. Once she was sure he would be fine without it, she returned to the oak tree.

It really was a beautiful specimen. Not quite as grand as the ancient trees scattered around Centoria, perhaps, but easily more than a century old. Mentally, she apologized to the tree, then took a stance.

She placed her right foot forward with her left in the rear. She held the Night-Sky Blade in her left hand and placed her right hand on its leather-wrapped hilt. With her one good eye, she gauged her distance to the tree.

“Come on, now, are you really going to cut down that massive oak with your flimsy little sword?” one of the men shouted, prompting a gale of laughter from those nearby. Others chimed in, claiming her sword would break or the sun would set first.

Eventually Nigel said, with great consternation, “Er, Alice, it would be appreciated if you could do the task in about an hour…”

She’d cut down over ten trees since she’d started her job, and they always took no more than thirty minutes. This was because she had to carefully limit her strength so as not to destroy the axes they gave her to use. This time, however, there was no need. The Night-Sky Blade was a Divine Object with the same priority level as her own Osmanthus Blade.

“It will not take that long,” she muttered, squeezing the hilt.

Then she shouted, “Haaah!!” An explosion of dust burst up from her right foot in front.

It had been a long time since she had last swung a real sword; fortunately, she hadn’t forgotten any techniques. The level slash shot from the sheath like black lightning.

None of the men around her actually saw it, apparently. Once the sword was fully outstretched to her right, Alice straightened up and met their baffled gazes.

The smooth bark of the platinum oak was unmarred aside from the mark the men had been chipping away at for the past day—or so they thought.

At last, one of them wondered, “Did she miss?” and a few of them cackled.

Alice turned back to the one who’d spoken, lowering her sword. “It’s going to fall your way.”

“Huh? What are you—?”

The man paused, his eyes bulging. The trunk of the oak was very slowly starting to tilt. Like those around him, he suddenly wailed and started running the other way.

With a tremendous rumble, the gigantic tree toppled onto the place where the men had been standing just three seconds before.

Alice made her way back to the stump, waving away the dust. The rings of the tree were thick on the fresh cross section and shone as though polished. There was just one end of the stump that was still jagged and torn.

She wondered whether that was because she was losing her edge or whether it was due to the lack of depth perception with only one eye. As she turned away, she nearly jumped out of her skin. Nigel Barbossa was rushing toward her with a huge grin and arms wide.

Her rough handling of the sword made for a menacing clink as it slid back into the sheath, which brought Nigel up short. But the smile never left as he rubbed his hands together.

“Won…wonder…wonderful! That was incredible! So much for Zink, the chief man-at-arms! That was simply divine!” he babbled at a distance of a mel—his expression equal parts delight and greed. “Wh-what do you say, Alice? I’ll double your pay if you work once a week for me rather than once per month…No! Once a day, even!”

He was rubbing his hands at high speed now. Alice merely shook her head.

“No, thank you. What you are paying me now is enough.”

If she brought the Osmanthus Blade and used its Perfect Weapon Control art, she could do more than one tree a day—she could reduce this entire forest to flat land as far as the eye could see in a matter of minutes. But if she did so, it would only change their demands into tilling the land, breaking the rocks, even making the rain fall.

Nigel grumbled at her rejection and didn’t seem to remember she was there until she said, “My payment.”

“Ah, yes, of course, of course.” He put his hand into his pocket and pulled out a bulging sack, then plucked out a 100-shia silver coin, as he had promised her, dropped it into her palm, and tried his luck again. “Alice, how about this? If I pay you another silver, would you consider retracting your offer to Ridack for this month…?”

She held her breath, preparing to turn him down again, when a heavy thud caught her attention. She looked up with a start and saw that the wheelchair had toppled over, sending Kirito to the ground.

“…Kirito!” she shouted, running past Nigel to him.

Kirito was reaching forward desperately with his left arm as he lay on the ground. In that direction, the loafing young men had balanced the longsword in its white-leather sheath upright on the ground and were exclaiming over it.

“Whoa, why is it so heavy?!”

“No wonder she could cut down a platinum oak in one swing with it.”

“Hey, you guys, hold it straight!” cried a third, who grabbed the hilt of the Blue Rose Sword with both hands so he could pull it out.

Alice actually heard the sound of her jaws grinding. A cry left her throat before she was even aware of it herself. “You scoundrels—!”

The boys turned to her, mouths agape. She crossed the twelve mels between them in an instant and came to a stop with dust swirling around her. The three backed away when they saw the look on her face.

Alice took a deep breath and used it to stifle the explosion threatening to erupt from within her. She helped Kirito get up first, put him back in his wheelchair, then hissed, “That sword belongs to him. Give it back now.”

Suddenly, the young men looked aggrieved. The large one who’d been about to draw the sword pointed at Kirito, his lip curled. “We asked him to let us borrow it.”

Even sitting in the wheelchair, Kirito was reaching for the white sword, moaning weakly.

One of the youngsters holding up the sheath said mockingly, “He was happy to lend it to us. He was like, ‘Aaah, aaah.’”

The last of them nodded and agreed, laughing.

Alice had to keep her hand tight on the handle of the wheelchair—if she didn’t, she would grab the handle of the Night-Sky Blade and draw it instead.

Half a year ago, she would have cut off all six arms that dared to touch the sword without a moment’s hesitation. An Integrity Knight was not bound by the Taboo Index and its rules against harming others. As a matter of fact, without the seal in her right eye to bind her, there was no law at all that limited Alice’s behavior.

But…

Alice clenched her teeth painfully, fighting against her urges. These young men were the common folk that Kirito and Eugeo had sacrificed their lives to protect. She couldn’t harm them. It wasn’t what they would have wanted.

She stayed absolutely still and silent for several seconds, but she didn’t do a very good job of hiding the fury that blazed in her remaining eye. The three boys stopped laughing, their smiles replaced by fearful looks.

“…All right, all right. Geez, you don’t have to get so mad,” the largest boy said, sulking as he released the handle. The other two followed his cue and let go of the sheath, almost relieved that they didn’t have to support its weight anymore. It toppled heavily to the ground.

Alice walked over without a word, crouched, and easily lifted the white-leather sheath with no more than three fingers. As she turned back, she paused for a moment to glare at the little imps before returning to the wheelchair.

After quickly dusting off the sheath with the hem of her cloak, she placed the black and white blades on Kirito’s lap. He clutched them tight and went still.

Nigel Barbossa was absorbed in giving orders elsewhere, seemingly with no interest in the situation here. Alice gave him a little bow for propriety’s sake—he wasn’t paying attention—and wheeled the chair back to the path going north.

The surge of hot, stormy anger that had filled her for the first time in ages had turned into cold helplessness. This wasn’t the first time she’d felt it since moving into the forest near Rulid. Most of the villagers avoided talking to her, and they hardly even treated vacant Kirito like a human being.

She wasn’t blaming them. From their point of view, she was still the criminal who broke the Taboo Index. She ought to be grateful they allowed her to live close to the village and sold her essential goods and food.

But all the while, in a corner of her mind, she wondered, To what end?

To what end had she undergone all that suffering and fought with Administrator? What exactly was the thing that the other administrator, Cardinal; her intelligent spider, Charlotte; Eugeo; and Kirito had made such sacrifices to protect?

Those thoughts led her to a question that she knew she could never voice: Was there truly a point in protecting people like Barbossa’s family?

That question was one of the reasons Alice had put down her sword and traveled to this distant region. Even now, on the far side of the Eastern Gate at the edge of Eastavarieth Empire, the forces of darkness were marching closer. It was a question of whether Commander Bercouli could get his new Human Guardian Army arranged and in place in time. She hadn’t been stripped of her status as Integrity Knight—only the late Administrator could do that—so perhaps Alice ought to head for that gate as soon as possible.

But the Osmanthus Blade was far too heavy for her now.

The celestial realm she thought she had come from did not exist. The Axiom Church she swore fealty to was full of hypocrisy. She’d learned far too much of the ugliness and pettiness of the people of the human realm. The days when she could pray to the gods and swing her sword believing in the righteousness of her cause had long passed.

Now there was only a handful of human beings that Alice truly wanted to protect. Her mother and father, Selka, Old Man Garitta, and Kirito. As long as she could keep them safe, she would be content to turn her back on the knighthood and live her days here in peace…

When they were out of the clearing and onto the path that wound through the barley fields, Alice stopped and whispered to Kirito, “Can I do some shopping in the village, since we’re here? I won’t let those nasty children mess with you again.”

He didn’t answer, but Alice took that as agreement and wheeled the chair north.

Her 100-shia silver coin bought her a week’s worth of food and necessities. By the time they were heading back to their cabin in the forest, the sun had begun to set.

As she approached the porch, she detected the low hum of wind. Once the wheelchair was safely out of the way, she waited for the source to arrive in the center of the little clearing in the woods.

Eventually, an enormous flying dragon almost skimmed the treetops as it soared by—its massive wings, long neck, and silver tail all adding to its regal aspect. It was Alice’s dragon, Amayori, who had flown them here from Centoria.

The dragon did two turns above the grassy clearing, then floated down to land. It folded its wings and stretched its neck until its nose brushed Kirito’s chest, then it rested its large head against Alice.

She scratched at the silky, faintly blue hair under the dragon’s chin, eliciting a purring gurgle from the beast.

“Amayori, you’re getting fat. You’ve been eating too many fish at the lake,” she scolded with a grin. The dragon snorted guiltily and began plodding toward its nest on the east side of the cabin. It curled up atop the bed of thickly stacked hay so its neck was intertwined with its tail.

Half a year ago, on the day she’d decided to build this cabin here in the clearing, Alice had undone the leather harness on Amayori’s head and removed the sacred arts of binding. She’d told the dragon, You are free; go back to your nest in the western empire, but the dragon would not leave her side.

The dragon collected grass to make its bed and spent the days on its own, frolicking in the forest and catching fish in the lake—but it always came back in the evening. The sacred arts that suppressed the dragon’s proud, fierce nature and forced it into servitude to its knight’s commands was gone. So why didn’t it return to its home?

Still, the continued and willing presence of Amayori, who had been with her ever since she became an Integrity Knight, was a welcome development, and Alice did not try to drive it off. Occasionally, the sight of the dragon overhead caused more rumors about Alice among the villagers, but it was pointless to worry about that now.

Amayori began to snore softly atop the hay, so Alice bade it a good night and pushed the wheelchair into the cabin.

Dinner that night was a stew of half-moon beans and meatballs. The beans were too hard, and the meatballs were all different sizes, but the flavor was really coming together, she thought. Kirito didn’t offer any comments, of course. He just let her stick the spoon in his mouth and chewed and swallowed as if that was all he could remember how to do.

If only she at least knew what he liked and didn’t like to eat. Moments like this reminded her that the total amount of time she had really spoken to this young man was not even an entire day. Two years ago, Selka had lived in the church with him for a period, but she said that he seemed to enjoy everything he was served, regardless of what it was. It seemed fitting for Kirito.

At last, Kirito finished his stew, so she moved his chair over to the small heater, then washed the utensils and placed them in the basket.

Just then, she heard Amayori, who would normally sleep outside until dawn, growling in a soft trill. She paused and listened intently. With the whisper of the breeze coming through the forest was the unseasonal frail rustle of dead branches, then the sound of large wings beating.

“…!”

She leaped out of the kitchen, made sure that Kirito was behaving in his chair, then threw open the front door. Able to hear more clearly now, she determined that whatever was slicing through the wind was coming closer. She descended the porch and looked up at the night sky.

Against the backdrop of the stars, a black shadow was descending in a spiral—a dragon. She glanced to the east, just in case, and saw that Amayori was still on the bed, of course, looking up at the sky.

“Could it be…?”

She was about to turn back for her sword, thinking that a dark knight from over the End Mountains had invaded, when she saw the scales of the dragon gleam silver in the moonlight. Her shoulders relaxed just the tiniest bit. The only ones who rode dragons with silver scales were the Integrity Knights of the Axiom Church.

But it was still too early to be completely at ease. Who would have flown out all this way? Were they still discussing the idea of punishing Kirito the traitor? Had they dispatched an agent of justice from the cathedral at last?

Amayori crawled out of the bed, sensing Alice’s worry, and lifted its head high to growl again. The threatening noise soon made way for a much sweeter purr.

Alice understood why very quickly.

The dragon did three more circles before landing on the south end of the clearing. Its own fuzzy beard was colored similarly to Amayori’s. This was Amayori’s older brother, Takiguri. Which meant that its rider was…

A knight clad in platinum armor and helmet leaped smoothly to the ground. Alice called out to him in a hard voice. “I’m impressed that you found me. What do you want, Eldrie Synthesis Thirty-One?”

The only Integrity Knight with a number younger than Alice’s Thirty did not speak at first. He put his right hand to his chest and bowed deeply. Then he stood up and removed his helmet. His lustrous pale-purple hair wafted in the night breeze, and his city-boy good looks came into view. His voice was higher and softer than the average man’s.

“It has been too long, Master Alice. While you are dressed differently than I remember, your beauty still amazes me. The thought of my mentor’s golden hair gleaming in the moonlight was so captivating, I could not help but pay a visit with an excellent vintage from the collection.”

His left hand emerged from behind his back to reveal a wine bottle. Alice did her best not to sigh, and she answered her strange disciple, “I’m happy to see that your wounds have healed—sadly, your personality has not changed for the better. In fact, if anything, your way of speaking reminds me a bit more of Prime Senator Chudelkin’s.”

Eldrie gurgled a bit. She turned her back on him and walked toward the cabin.

“Erm, Alice…?”

“If you have something important to say, I’ll hear you out inside. If not, you can drink your wine alone and return to the city.”

Takiguri and Amayori were rubbing their necks together, delighting in their first family reunion in half a year. Alice gave them a brief glance and returned to the cabin.

Eldrie followed her obediently inside and looked around the interior in wonder before his eyes stopped on Kirito, who was sitting motionless by the heater. He made no comment on the rebel who had once crossed swords with him. Instead, he slid around the far side of the table and pulled out a chair for Alice.

“…”

It felt silly to thank him for this, so she just exhaled instead and plopped onto the seat. Eldrie sat himself down across from her and placed the wine bottle on the table. A hint of a dark expression crossed his face the moment he got a good look at her, probably from seeing the black bandage that still covered her right eye. The agitation was gone the next instant, however. He looked around curiously, his nose twitching.

“…Something smells nice, Alice. Incidentally, I was in a hurry, so I haven’t eaten dinner yet.”

“How is that ‘incidental’? And who would fly from Centoria to the distant mountains bearing wine but taking no travel rations along?”

“I swore to the trinity that I would never eat that limp, tasteless mush again. I’d rather starve and let my life drain away than survive on such—”

She rose from her seat before she was forced to listen to his entire answer. In the kitchen, she ladled the remaining stew from the pot on the stove onto a wooden plate and brought it to the table. Eldrie stared at the plate with a mixture of elation and suspicion.

“…Forgive my impertinence in asking, but…did you make this yourself…?”

“Yes, I did. Why do you ask?”

“…No reason. To eat my sword master’s home cooking is a greater honor and joy than learning the secret ways of my weapon,” he said nervously, grabbing the spoon and shoveling beans into his mouth.

As he chewed, Alice asked, “So how did you find this place? It’s far enough from Centoria that no sacred art should reach here…And I don’t imagine the knighthood is in a state to be sending dragons all over the realm just to find me.”

Eldrie didn’t answer her question right away; instead, he murmured about how surprisingly good the dish was, working the spoon quickly until his plate was clean. He looked up and dabbed at his mouth with a napkin that she hadn’t seen him pull out.

“I followed the bond that exists between our souls,” he said, fixing her with a look. “If only that were so. No, it was simple coincidence.” He spread his hands theatrically. “A knight patrolling the End Mountains sent word that the goblins and orcs to the north have been active. On the commander’s orders, we collapsed the caves to the north, south, and west, and I was sent to confirm that they’re not stubbornly trying to dig them out again.”

“The…caves…?” Alice murmured. Of the four caves that went through the End Mountains, the south, west, and north caves were very narrow, and the ogres and giants that made up the bulk of the dark army’s strength couldn’t pass through. Therefore, it was assumed they would amass at the Eastern Gate, but Bercouli was thorough and decided to collapse the other three caves after he took full command.

It was with this knowledge that Alice had made the far north her hideout, but if the enemy dug the cave up again, that situation would change. Rulid would go from being a peaceful, sleepy village to the front line of a bloody war.

“And…did you confirm the actions of the forces of darkness?”

“I flew over the vicinity of the cave for an entire day, and I did not see a single goblin, much less any orcs,” Eldrie said, shrugging. “I’m guessing it was all a big mistake, and they were confusing packs of wild animals for monsters.”

“…Did you check inside the cave?”

“Of course. I examined it from the Dark Territory side, but the rocks filled it to the roof of the cave. They’d need an enormous platoon to dig that all loose. I was set to take us back to Centoria with that information in my pocket, when Takiguri started acting strangely. I let him fly where he wanted to, which turned out to be this place. I’m just as stunned as anyone. It’s quite a coincidence…Or should I say, the work of fate?”

He finished with a dramatic flourish and the bravado of a bold knight.

“It is at such a time, when granted this rare opportunity, that my duty compels me to speak my mind. Please, Alice…return to the fold! We need your sword more than we need the addition of a thousand soldiers!”

She looked down to avoid his insistent gaze.

She knew.

She knew the fragile walls around the human realm were set to crumble to the ground, as well as how hard Commander Bercouli and his new Human Guardian Army were fighting to keep them up.

There was no way Alice could ever truly repay her mentor for protecting and guiding her, and it wasn’t as though she’d completely abandoned her sense of solidarity with Eldrie and the other Integrity Knights. But these loyalties alone were not enough to bring her to fight.

Strength was the power of will itself. The battle in the cathedral had taught her this truth. If by sheer willpower, one could gain the advantage in the face of odds that spelled certain defeat, as Kirito had done, then willpower could also turn the greatest divine weapon into nothing more than a sad hunk of metal…

“…I cannot,” she said, barely above a whisper.

Without missing a beat, Eldrie demanded, “Why not?”

He didn’t wait for her answer. Instead, his gaze whipped to the young man sitting in the chair next to the heater.

“Is it because of him? Is the man who broke out of his cell in Central Cathedral and fought back against the knights, the prime senator, and even the pontifex herself still ensnaring your heart somehow? Because I will gladly seize the honor of cutting out the root of your uncertainty.”

He squeezed hard on the edge of the table. Alice’s remaining eye shot him a venomous glare. “Stop that!”

It wasn’t very loud, but there was enough authority in her voice to bring the other knight to attention.

“He fought for the sake of the justice that he believed in,” she snapped. “If not, how do you explain that he was able to defeat the supreme Integrity Knights and even our exalted commander? You fought against his blade. You should know its weight.”

Creases of frustration formed on the bridge of his proud nose, but Eldrie did relax his shoulders. His eyes dropped to the table, and he confessed, “It is true that I find it difficult to accept the truth of Administrator’s plan to turn half the population into soulless soldiers with swords for bones. And without Kirito and his friend Eugeo, no one would have been able to stop that plan from becoming reality. And if Bercouli’s story is true that their guide was the other pontifex, Cardinal, who once stood on equal footing with Administrator, then I have no desire to see Kirito’s crimes tried and judged. But…but that only makes his actions harder to understand!”

His voice was plaintive and insistent—a confession of thoughts kept hidden until this moment.

“If Kirito the rebel is, as you claim, a greater warrior than we Integrity Knights, why does he not take up his sword and fight now?! Why has he become so feeble and tied you down to this remote place? If he struck down Administrator to protect the people of the realm, then why does he not proceed to the Eastern Gate at once?!”

Nothing about Eldrie’s fervent outburst seemed to reach Kirito. The only thing his heavy-lidded eyes reflected was the flickering flame in the heater.

It was Alice’s gentle voice that broke the stifling silence that followed.

“…I’m sorry, Eldrie. I cannot go with you. It is not because of Kirito’s condition; I have lost my ability with the sword—that is all. If we were to fight now, I would not last three strikes into the duel.”

Eldrie’s eyes bulged. The proud knight’s face crinkled up like a young child’s. Eventually, he managed to form a resigned little grin.

“…I see. Then I have nothing more to say…”

He reached out his hand and muttered the initiation of a sacred art, followed by a quick incantation of two crystal elements that he formed into delicate wine glasses. Then he picked up the wine bottle, plucked the firm stopper out with his fingertips, poured an equal amount of the red liquid into each glass, and set it down.

“…If I’d known we’d be drinking to our final meeting, I would have brought a two-hundred-year vintage from the western empire’s private cellar.”

Eldrie lifted one of the glasses, drank it down in a single gulp, then put it back on the table. He saluted her, stood, and turned, his white cloak flapping.

“This is farewell, Master. Your student Eldrie will never forget your lessons on the sword and arts.”

“…Be well. I will pray for your safety,” she managed to reply. The Integrity Knight nodded back at her, then strode away, boots clicking. There was unassailable dignity in his gait, and Alice had to look away.

The door opened, then shut. Outside, Takiguri cried once, followed by the flapping of wings. Amayori hummed sadly over the sudden parting, a thorn that pricked Alice’s heart.

The powerful wings grew more distant until the sound eventually faded away. She sat motionless all the while.

Before the delicate crystal glass could run out of life and fall apart, she picked it up and put it to her mouth. Her first taste of wine in half a year was not sweet; it left only a puckering tartness on her tongue. Mere seconds later, the two empty glasses vanished, leaving a few brief beams of light behind.

She put the cork back into the bottle, which wasn’t empty yet, and stood up. Over by the fire, she told the silent Kirito, “I’m sorry about that. You must be tired. It’s past our bedtime. Here, let’s get you over there.”

Alice helped him stand up, hands on his shoulders, and guided him toward the adjacent bedroom. Once she’d changed him from his black indoor shirt to a plain pajama top, she helped him lie down on the bed by the window.

Near his feet, there was a folded blanket, which she spread out and placed up to his neck. But Kirito’s half-open eyes just stared up at the ceiling without blinking.

She blew out the lamp on the wall, filling the room with bluish darkness, then sat next to him and stroked his sunken chest and bony shoulders for several minutes until he finally closed his eyes as though running out of power.

Once she was sure his breathing was quiet and steady, Alice got up and changed into her own white nightgown. She went back out to the living room to check on Amayori at the window, then extinguished the two lamps there and returned to the bedroom.

After lifting the blanket and lying down next to Kirito, a faint warmth enveloped her body. Normally, she only had to close her eye to immediately drift into slumber, but that sensation was elusive tonight.

The shining white of Eldrie’s cloak hanging behind him stubbornly refused to vanish from the back of her eyelid, distracting her and keeping her awake.

There was a time when she had been filled with the same pride that he now felt. It was the certainty that her sword was protecting the world, the people who lived in it, and the might of the Axiom Church—and the power that this knowledge gave her actions.

But now she had lost every last bit of that power.

She wanted to ask something of Eldrie, her former disciple. What do you believe in now that the hypocrisy of the church and pontifex are revealed? What do you fight for?

But she couldn’t. Aside from her and Bercouli, none of the Integrity Knights had been told the entirety of the pontifex’s horrifying plan. Eldrie didn’t know about the existence of his Memory Fragment trapped in the sealed-off top floor of Central Cathedral, or the fact that his most beloved person had been turned into a piece of the Sword Golem there.

So he could still have faith in the Axiom Church itself. He could wait in faith for the day that the three goddesses sent a new pontifex to Central Cathedral to guide humanity with infallible wisdom once again.

But what should she do, knowing now that the existence of the gods and their celestial realm was all a big sham? Whether he had much of a choice or not, Commander Bercouli was preparing for the coming war by revealing only half of the truth to the other knights. If she joined them now, the conflicts she carried within her would surely spread to the others.

Nobody knew whether a hastily assembled defensive army would be able to repel an all-out invasion by the forces of darkness. If they broke through the Eastern Gate, the blood-starved monsters would eventually reach this distant village, too. When she wondered whether there was no way at all left to avoid this tragedy, a voice replayed itself in her mind from memory.

Her mind fixated on two sentences that had come from the mysterious crystal panel after the battle against the pontifex—and before Kirito had collapsed for good.

Head for the World’s End Altar.

Leave the Eastern Gate and head far to the south.

She didn’t recognize the sacred term World’s End Altar. But she knew what she would find by leaving the Eastern Gate. Land as black as ash and skies the color of blood over the Dark Territory. Once she made her way into that place, it would not be easy to advance or return.

So once she made the unfathomably difficult journey through the land of darkness and reached this altar, what would be there? Was there really someone—or something—that could protect the people of the world from the dark army…?

Alice craned her head on the pillow and glanced at the boy sleeping on the other side of the bed. She wriggled through the blanket to be closer to him. After a moment’s hesitation, she reached out and clung to his body, like a child frightened by a nightmare.

No matter how hard she pulled on his painfully thin frame, the boy whose burning righteousness had moved her so deeply made no response. His sluggish heartbeat did not pick up, nor did his dark eyelashes even twitch. Perhaps all that remained was a husk—a pitiful vessel that had once contained a soul.

If she had a sword in her hand now…

…she would run through both of their hearts in one go and end it all.

But the moment passed, and the idea slipped from her mind like the tears falling onto Kirito’s neck.

“Tell me, Kirito…what should I do…?”

She received no answer.

“What…should I……?”

The moonlight shining through the parted curtains collected in the droplets as they fell, one after the other.