#157

Ulli’s scream echoed. She, who had been fighting the Zarkas, must have seen this scene as well, as she rushed forward with a roar.

Meanwhile, Cullen looked up at the one who had cut Arne. The one who was staggering, gripping the scythe’s handle, had apparently used his last strength and, glaring at Cullen, collapsed. Cullen blankly watched him fall to the ground, spitting blood.

“Arne, Arne, Arne! No!”

Ulli wailed, screaming like a madwoman. However, the approaching Ulli was blocked by three Zarkas. Ulli’s eyes turned red. A pattern that had never climbed up her neck before was now consuming her.

“Aaaargh!”

Ulli let out a scream of pain and faced the three Zarkas at once. Perhaps intimidated by her attack, which was infused with incomparable rage, they began to falter.

He had to go help her, but even thinking that, Cullen could not leave this spot. His body froze, unable to believe what he was seeing.

As Cullen stared blankly at Arne, Lasano slowly got up.

He looked confused by the situation. Lasano, who had managed to raise his upper body, first looked at the floor. There, Arne’s blood was pooling, flowing down his body.

Lasano touched the floor with his hand. The blood, staining his black robe and spreading widely, pooled red and mixed with the Zarkas’s blood.

Lasano said nothing. He rubbed the blood on the floor as if he couldn’t understand, then slowly turned his body. As Lasano moved, Arne coughed and spat out blood. It was a cough that heralded death, similar to the one the Zarkas who had just fallen showed.

“Arne, it’s okay. It will be okay.”

The moment he saw that, Cullen knelt before him like a madman. For a moment, he thought it wasn’t Arne’s blood. His mind, his body, refused to acknowledge the situation and believed it was the Zarkas’s blood.

But when Arne vomited blood, terror struck. Cullen fumbled and grabbed his body.

Lasano, approaching Cullen, moved his lips. He turned his head completely and looked at Arne covering him. An expression of utter disbelief appeared on Lasano’s face. His red eyes widened to their limit and trembled.

Cullen’s face was likely similar. He couldn’t believe it. That Arne, of all people, was in this state. He could hear his own heartbeat in his ringing ears. The pounding of his heart gave him a headache.

Arne.

Arne…

No, it wasn’t.

Still covering Lasano, Arne coughed, spitting out blood in handfuls. His complexion, usually vibrant with life, was rapidly paling.

His damp brown eyelashes slowly lifted. Arne’s head turned with agonizing slowness, and he managed to see Cullen.

“Cul, len… Lord.”

His voice was smaller than a dying flame. Cullen shook his head. He had to stay focused. It was okay. He was talking, so he wasn’t dead. He could be healed.

“Arne, you must conserve your strength. You need to be healed quickly, so please let me carry you.”

At his words, Arne’s bright red lips quivered.

“La, sano, Lord… is… al, right…?”

The moment he heard that, Cullen could only swallow his tears of blood. His insides felt like they were collapsing from the raging pain. Nodding frantically, Cullen carefully pulled Arne off Lasano.

Lasano stared blankly as Arne was laid on the floor. He didn’t even blink, like a madman.

“It’s alright. Come, Arne, quickly… quickly, let me carry you.”

Every slight movement Arne made caused blood to gush out like madness. The scythe that had pierced his body completely scraped against the ground with a clattering sound. Arne managed to blink, then moved the corners of his lips. He seemed to be trying to smile. His lips trembled.

“So, rry…”

His voice faded. Cullen kept shaking his head, holding Arne’s body. The smell of blood was sickening.

No. No. No, no, no.

The past was crashing down before his eyes again. He had sworn then. He had promised he never wanted to see this again, that he would lose no comrade, no matter the cost.

This… is happening again?

“I, told you… to stay… still… I…”

Arne’s apologetic voice died down. Seeing him unable to continue, Cullen grabbed Lasano, who was staring blankly, by the collar and yanked him.

“Lasano, damn it, Lasano! Heal, heal him…!”

At the word “heal,” a crack finally appeared in Lasano’s expression. He, who had been staring at Arne like a soul-less being, crawled on his knees to Arne’s side. His trembling hands were visible.

“Why did you do it?”

Lasano said, then frantically placed his hands on Arne’s upper body. Biting his lips until they bled, Lasano kept muttering.

“Why? Why, why…”

His hands fumbled over the wound. Like when he used to heal as High Priest.

But there was no change. No silver light appeared. Only Arne’s blood continued to stain his hands.

Lasano began to sob, his face crumbling. Cullen had never seen him cry before. Lasano, with a look of utter despair, kept touching Arne. As if believing something would happen if he just squeezed it out.

Lasano finally began to plead.

“Arne, Arne… don’t die… I… must heal, must heal…”

As his cry spread, Arne struggled to open his eyes. As his pale eyelids lifted, his brown eyes, still holding a gentle hue, took in Lasano. His gaze, beginning to lose focus, seemed to take in him, Cullen, and Ulli behind them.

In his fading eyes, there was a mixture of apology and affection. After looking at them all, Arne closed his eyes and spoke one last word.

“Don’t die…”

Arne’s lips, which had been straining, finally curved. The corners of his mouth lifted shyly, forming a smile that was so like him. A kind and lovely smile. His expression was as if he would comfort Cullen, asking if he was worried.

As if telling him not to worry.

Cullen needed that expression. He needed that face. He needed Arne. He needed that kindness that used to joke with Ulli, laugh, and try to comfort people no matter what. He was an indispensable, important person.

“Arne, no…”

Cullen shook his head, tears finally falling. Tears he hadn’t realized were falling began to pool messily on his cheeks and chin. He wished someone would tell him it was a lie.

He wished he had died instead.

Arne stopped, his eyes half-open. His twitching fingers stiffened. Lasano gasped. His heaving chest was like that of a person in panic. Like a madman, Lasano didn’t stop, continuing to probe Arne’s body. As if believing he could still heal him, he didn’t give up.

Cullen stared blankly at the scene. His eyes burned as if they would burst. His throat ached, and a heart-wrenching pain rose within him.

Why, why, why… why is this happening… to Arne, of all people?

Guilt crushed Cullen. It was his fault. He should have finished the job properly. He shouldn’t have left him alone when his movements stopped. He should have… completely severed his head before leaving. He foolishly believed he was dead. The moment he thought that, Cullen just wanted to give up on everything.

“Go!”

Then Ulli’s shout reached his ears. Cullen slowly turned his head. Ulli, her eyes bloodshot, was looking at him.

“You got the sword. Go, Cullen. Go kill that woman who committed this atrocity, or do what you must!”

“Ulli, Arne…”

“I know!”

Something like tears of blood flowed down Ulli’s face. Mixed with the blood splattered on her face, her tears looked like she was truly bleeding. She screamed.

“Arne saved lives, so don’t die, take Cullen and get out, damn High Priest!”

As she finished speaking, Ulli struck down a Zarkas charging at her with her greatsword. With a heavy sound that seemed to burst his body, the spear-wielding Zarkas was slammed into the wall.

Though his heart felt like it would shatter from the shock and pain, Cullen forced himself to regain his senses. Ulli was right. If they stayed like this, everyone might die. They had to go.

Lasano was still repeating the same action. Watching him cover Arne’s body and mumble something, Cullen gritted his teeth and stood up. Gathering his scattered, almost-mad mind, he pulled Lasano.

“Let’s go. Ulli, hurry and come.”

“I, can’t, go!”

The remaining two Zarkas charged. The sun had set, and the red sunset mixed with ash-grey light pierced through the glass ceiling of the conference hall. It felt like being in a sea of blood.

“Kill these guys, and I’ll take care of Arne… so go first!”

“I can’t lose you too!”

Cullen screamed. Fear gripped Cullen’s ankles. Having just lost Arne, he couldn’t leave Ulli alone in this dangerous place.

“I won’t die, I won’t die! I won’t die! I have a place to return to, and I promised you!”

But hadn’t Arne also promised? That he wouldn’t die.

“If you don’t go, that’s killing me! I’ll live no matter what, so you promise me too. You won’t die!”

He felt like he was going mad. Faced with loss, Cullen struggled to pull himself together, collapsing and about to collapse again.

Yes, it’s okay. No, it’s not okay, but… he had to trust Ulli. At least, she was much stronger than him now, so she would survive. Pantel would protect her.

“I promise.”

Cullen promised.

“Me too, I promise!”

The moment Ulli’s promise returned, Cullen pulled Lasano with all his might. Then, muttering to himself, he turned.

As Cullen, sword in hand, turned and began to run, an attack was about to strike him, but Ulli blocked it. He could hear her shouting for him to go, so Cullen hardened his heart. He held onto Lasano, who kept faltering, and ran. He whipped himself dozens of times to stop himself from looking back.

After running for a long time, they exited the conference hall’s corridor. He saw the blood-red sky and, beneath it, the Emperor’s sleeping quarters towering high. The moment he saw it, Cullen, who had been running without stopping, halted abruptly. He staggered, breathing raggedly, his breath mixed with sobs.

Tragedy always found him in this way.

No matter how hard he tried, death came from places he couldn’t possibly prevent. The helplessness and self-hatred he felt each time gnawed at his heart. Cullen’s tattered mind screamed that it couldn’t hold on any longer.

At the brink of collapse, as Cullen swayed precariously, Lasano grabbed Cullen’s arm and stood up fully. With eyes redder from tears, he spoke.

“Bring Kihelene. And you must go to Kiyen.”

He pushed Cullen with a voice that sounded like he was spitting blood.

“As you know, I cannot enter the Emperor’s sleeping quarters. Hurry and take her to Kiyen, so you can save Ulli. I will call Junon to help Ulli. She is always on standby nearby.”

Lasano spoke resolutely, though tears streamed down his face. His expression was still precarious, but for now, a sense of duty seemed to drive him to act.

Hearing Kiyen’s name, Cullen also regained his senses.

Yes, Kiyen is here. If he saves Kiyen, everything will get better. Perhaps he knows how to save Arne. The Aksha Temple is not far from here, so if he takes Kiyen… then there might be a way. He had to see Kiyen.

Kiyen’s name brought a sliver of stability. He thought that he, of all people, would not die. He believed in his immortality, his strength.

“You must return quickly.”

Cullen said to Lasano in a low, hoarse voice.

“Arne’s last wish was for you not to die, so you must not die.”

At his heartfelt whisper, Lasano nodded. The moment Arne’s name was mentioned, Lasano suppressed a sob and gave a wry smile.

“No matter what happens, I will not die. I will remain in this world, even as a specter.”

His words, which felt almost chilling, sounded more like a vow. As soon as he heard his confirmation, Cullen turned and began to run towards the sleeping quarters.

The day he first came to the palace overlapped. It felt strangely sadder now than when he was alone with an empty heart. He thought he had been happy to find people to love.

Cullen quickly approached the front of the sleeping quarters. The magic that recognized him opened the door on its own. He passed through a translucent white curtain and down a corridor lined with statues of Emperors.

Running like that, he stopped in front of the room where he had met Sigmund. He placed his hand on the tightly shut door. A chilling sensation brushed his fingertips, wrapping around his body, and the doorknob turned.

As soon as the door opened, something flew at him. It was a dagger he recognized. Cullen realized that the dagger the room had taken from him the day he first set foot here last year had taken this form.

The dagger’s trajectory was erratic. The aim was uncertain, and it lacked power. Dodging the clumsy attack by merely tilting his head, Cullen looked ahead.

“Die…!”

The person who was about to say “die” looked up at Cullen blankly.

Beyond the messy, long, dark purple hair, he saw red-tinged purple eyes. Below the face, from which tears were continuously flowing, the dress was dotted with blood.

“Cul, Cullen… Lord?”

Kihelene’s clothes and various parts of the sleeping quarters were stained with thick blood. Cullen realized that blood was flowing from her wrists and neck. They weren’t fatal wounds, but they were traces of repeated near-death experiences, showing hesitation.

“Cullen Lord…! Ah, ahh…!”

Kihelene sobbed and rushed towards Cullen. She, who had run out barefoot, gasped like a madwoman and grabbed Cullen, falling down.

“So, sorry, I… I killed people… I killed the people… the citizens… I, instead of protecting them…”