MTM 201

“Commander…?”

Leon opened the door to Gerard’s cabin and stepped inside, only to come to an abrupt halt.

Scrape, scrape.

In the darkness, illuminated only by the dim glow of a wall-mounted lantern, Gerard sat on the floor. He was whittling something with a knife. However, that wasn’t what had startled Leon; it was the sight of Gerard’s face, revealed in the lamplight. He looked vastly different from usual.

His face was an ashen, bloodless gray, and dark, bluish-black blotches resembling the symptoms of Epimer flower poisoning were spreading across his skin. They extended from his cheeks and neck down to the backs of his hands.

“What is this? What’s happening?”

Gerard continued whittling with an impassive expression, unconcerned by the changes overtaking his body. He was carving a piece of animal bone.

“Um… Commander, your face…”

As Leon was speechless with shock, Gerard finally let out a low sigh and casually rubbed his cheek.

“No need to be so alarmed. I had hoped that using so much holy power would improve things… but it seems there’s no avoiding it now that we’ve entered the Northern Sea.”

“…What exactly is happening?”

Zed, who had moved to Leon’s side to examine Gerard’s condition, asked with a frown.

“It’s the demonic energy flowing through these waters.”

Captain Boris, who had just pushed his way into the cabin, answered in Gerard’s place. With a pipe clenched between his teeth, he calmly scrutinized Gerard’s ghastly appearance.

“Ruinbelt is teeming with demonic energy. The closer you get to that cursed land, the denser the concentration of demonic energy in the sea becomes. Since that fellow’s body is imbued with holy power, he takes the full brunt of its influence. Anyone who wields holy power has always ended up in this state whenever they came to these waters. That’s why I told him to quit being a sailor and become a priest or a holy knight instead. Though I never imagined he’d actually show up as a holy knight.”

Boris clicked his tongue, perhaps recalling Gerard’s younger days spent toiling as a sailor on the Wolf Hide before he became a holy knight.

“Anyway, seeing as he’s already in this condition so soon after setting sail… the demonic energy spreading across the Northern Sea must have become far denser than before.”

“So… what happens to someone with holy power if they’re constantly exposed to demonic energy?”

Leon asked with a look of concern, but Boris simply shrugged.

“Well, nothing much really happens. Isn’t that right, Gerard?”

“Old man!”

Just as Boris glanced at Gerard while speaking, the voice of the sailor manning the helm on deck rang out into the cabin.

“Good grief… They don’t give you a moment’s rest out here on the sea!”

Boris grumbled and hurriedly stepped out of the cabin.

“…Haa.”

After Boris left, Gerard let out a long sigh. Perhaps due to the blotches covering his body, his breathing sounded particularly heavy. In the silence that filled the cabin, he eventually pulled a book from his coat. It was a worn, palm-sized volume that bore the marks of time.

“Here.”

Gerard held the book out toward Zed. Zed looked back and forth between the tattered book and Gerard’s face with an impassive gaze.

“What is this?”

“It’s a record of how to channel holy power. Something I’ve been jotting down in my spare time.”

When Zed frowned and gave him a look that asked, Why are you giving this to me?, Gerard smiled bitterly.

“I said it was nothing in front of Old Boris, but… I can’t say the demonic energy isn’t affecting me at all. As you know, potent demonic energy is the antithesis of holy power; they’re bound to clash. If there’s this much demonic energy flowing through the sea when we haven’t even sighted our destination island yet, it means the holy power I can wield might fall far short of my usual capacity.”

The moment he heard Gerard’s calm admission, Zed felt a surge of anger rush to his head.

“Why… are you only telling me this now?”

Zed’s voice grew lower as he barely managed to suppress his exploding rage. Upon arriving at Ruinbelt, Gerard would have to personally use his holy power to forge a new heart for Harto. It was a reproach: How could the person who understood the weight of that responsibility better than anyone else keep such a critical variable hidden until now?

“Zed…”

Harto, who was standing right beside him, grabbed his hand. Meanwhile, Gerard fiddled with the bone fragment in his hand and spoke with a sullen expression.

“It’s not as if my holy power has vanished entirely; I’m still capable of carrying out my mission. I simply hadn’t anticipated that the sea’s demonic energy would have grown so overwhelming. But you…”

Gerard looked at Zed from head to toe.

“You look completely unaffected.”

While Gerard’s own skin was breaking out and turning a sickly, ashen hue under the onslaught of demonic energy, Zed remained entirely untouched, his complexion as normal as ever. Gerard murmured.

“Right. We are fundamentally different. You were born this way; that must be why even this kind of demonic energy can’t leave a scratch on you.”

His expression was somber as he contemplated his own limitations. Gerard slowly rose to his feet.

“It’s only natural that you wouldn’t fully trust me in my current state. That’s why I intend to teach you myself. Right now.”

He meant to pass on his unique method of manipulating holy power so that, should something happen to him and prevent him from completing the creation of Harto’s heart, Zed could take over the task. It was a crucial skill for safely implanting the new heart into Harto’s chest while overcoming the interference of the demonic energy.

“……”

Though his anger toward Gerard had not yet subsided, Zed had no choice but to accept the proposal. In any case, even without an ally, he had intended to head to Ruinbelt by any means necessary to forge a heart for Harto with his own hands in order to save him.

From the very start, he had no other choice.

“…Understood. Let’s do that.”

Zed accepted the proposal and roughly snatched the book from Gerard’s hand.

***

Squawk, squawk.

On a sunny morning at the port of Carseon, a flock of seagulls flew overhead. Thanks to the cloudless weather, the sunlight pouring down onto the sea was bright.

Beneath the bright sun, a fleet floated upon the water, a testament to the grandeur of the continent’s only holy nation.

Amidst the enthusiastic cheers of the crowd, Allen and Ser were boarding the fleet. They looked much the same as usual, though Ser was wearing the white hat Allen had purchased for him in the Land of Abundance.

Allen stole a glance at Ser’s back as he walked ahead before smiling. He looked even lovelier than Allen had imagined.

“Allen.”

Just as their eyes met when Ser turned his head to call out, Allen hurriedly wiped the expression from his face.

“Uh… yes?”

“When are we supposed to arrive in Ruinbelt?”

“Um… if the weather stays this good, I think we’ll get there in about two days.”

“Really? That’s quite a while. I just hope the letter Lady Isadora sent gets delivered safely…”

Ser murmured in a worried tone and resumed walking. Allen followed slowly behind, unable to tear his eyes away from him for even a moment.

Just then, Ser stopped.

“…It’s certainly nice how the hat blocks out the sunlight.”

With that brief remark, he quickened his pace. Allen’s turned bright red. He took long strides to stay close, afraid he might lose sight of him.

Allen and Ser had intended to head for the Eastern Kingdom after meeting Bernak at that secluded cabin in the Land of Abundance. However, before they could even set out, the Royal Knights arrived and briefed them on the urgent events that had unfolded.

‘Lady Isadora, we have something to tell you as well.’

The two of them revealed everything they had learned from Bernak, including the existence of Magnus’s flesh and the details regarding Walter, the captain of Night Rage. Aware of the gravity of the situation, Isadora immediately dispatched an urgent letter via hawk to where Harto and Zed were located.

Ser could only pray fervently that they would successfully reunite with their companions before the fleet departing from Carseon reached Ruinbelt.

Bwooooooo!

The resonant blast of a horn echoed through the air.

As everyone turned their heads toward the sound, Archpriest Edmund was boarding the fleet with a solemn expression.

The residents of Carseon, unaware of the Demon King’s resurrection or the truth about Hartiros, cheered and enthusiastically saw off the departing fleet.

Amidst the cheers and the confetti raining down like snowflakes, Edmund entered the ship’s cabin, escorted by holy knights.

“Archpriest Edmund.”

Isadora, who had been waiting inside, was the first to bow. Edmund returned the gesture with a slight nod, then walked past Allen and Ser, toward Cynthia, who stood in the corner like a phantom.

“Cynthia.”

Edmund slowly approached her and extended a hand lined with age.

“Once more… will you help seal the Demon King for the sake of this world’s peace?”

“…….”

Despite Edmund’s polite plea, Cynthia remained stony-faced. Then, she gazed into his deep blue eyes, which held her reflection with unwavering steadiness.

‘Allen…’

In the depths of Edmund’s eyes, she saw Allen Camus, the man she had ​stolen content​once loved with all her heart. It was inevitable; after all, Edmund standing before her was a descendant who carried Allen Camus’s bloodline.

“…This will be my last act of assistance.”

In stark contrast to the rising tide of sorrow, Cynthia replied with a cold expression, firm in her resolve to head toward Ruinbelt.