Part 3
By late afternoon, the city was empty.
Not destroyed. Not at war. Just… empty.
General Hector Balliard exited the military headquarters, flanked by Harlem—the Guild Master—and a small group of escorts. The silence was thick, almost liquid. Their boots echoed against the marble like distant hammers.
At the gates, impaled on a shattered spear, was Count Laverick's head.
A scroll hung beneath it.
"You're next, Balliard."
The general tore it down and shredded it, rage barely contained.
"I don't get it… Where is everyone? Where are those damn agitators from yesterday?"
Harlem unrolled a parchment, reading it with unhurried calm.
"According to the latest reports, this was all orchestrated by Junya Mori's companions. Two adventurers… A-rank."
"That brat…"
"That's not all. Some adventurers claim there's a nun preaching the name of an unknown deity… 'Celestia.'" The elf said it in a flat, contemplative tone.
Balliard no longer knew what to think.
The roar of the crowd had vanished. But the silence… was worse.
That emptiness flooding the streets wasn't peace. It was something watching him from the shadows.
Something breathing—faceless.
"I hope you can handle that dragon, Harlem," he growled. "After that, I'll deal with those insurgents myself."
Harlem didn't answer. He simply turned and began to walk away. His adventurers followed in silence.
"If I were you… I'd be more worried about getting better. You were never a good leader, Balliard," he said without looking back. "Once I'm done with the dragon, I'll take my guild and leave. I won't be part of your witch hunt."
The elf walked off.
Balliard was left alone.
With the impaled head, the freezing wind… and a deserted city.
He looked down the empty streets one last time.
"Where… is everyone?"
A few hours earlier, that same day…
The fog still clung to the alleyways when Lina knelt at the city's southern gate.
Beside her, Selka stood tall, cloaked in black with silver-lined edges. The town was silent. No screams. No protests. Only listening.
There were over a thousand of them.
Elders. Women. Children. Guildless adventurers. Even a few nobles.
All those who no longer believed in kings, but desperately wanted to believe in something.
"Celestia… guide your children," Lina whispered, eyes closed, one hand pressed to the ground.
"Free them," Selka added softly, lips barely moving. "They have paid their penance."
As if she were a prophet, Lina stretched her hand toward the central rune. A flash of light carved a glowing crack through the barrier. The dome trembled… and opened.
"Take this moment of mercy granted by our goddess… and flee this prison," she said solemnly.
The crowd did not hesitate. They crossed the threshold—stumbling, weeping, whispering hopes they thought long dead.
One of the nobles Selka had marked as worthy—Count Galvez—approached with his sleeping son in his arms. He paused before her, his respect sincere.
"Duchess of Ludbridge… you're not coming with us?"
Lina took a step forward, resting a hand on his shoulder.
"Count Galvez… guide these people. Take them somewhere safe. Protect your family."
Selka looked up at the still-sleeping walls of Arkenfel.
"We'll stay. Someone has to fight for this city… so that you'll have a place to return to."
"And we need men like you. Men of values, not titles," she added, her voice gentle.
The count lowered his head.
"I… thank you. For everything."
"Don't worry," Selka smiled. "Mist Valley wants a better world for everyone."
Galvez turned to Lina, his eyes burning with newfound conviction.
"Supreme Lucentra of Celestia… thank you for lifting the veil. All these years, we've been worshipping the false god Yoru…"
She met his gaze with a warmth that felt almost maternal.
"We are all children of Celestia," she said. "And her light… will guide you to a fairer life."
"I swear it. When we return… we'll build a new church. A true one."
"Celestia will be grateful," Lina replied with a soft nod. "Now go, run with your son. We'll take care of the rest."
And so, with those final words, the last of the souls deemed worthy left Arkenfel behind.
Because even the Void… knew some lives were worth another chance.
Hours before the attack…
Yamato stood atop a shadowed hill, gazing down at Arkenfel beyond the outer walls. The city clung to life under the faint flicker of torches. Guards scurried like ants before a storm.
"Quite the orchestra you've assembled," said a silky voice inside him.
"Your plan is unfolding perfectly…"
It was Nebel.
"So that's where you've been," Yamato murmured without turning. "Thought you'd left. You've been awfully quiet lately."
"How adorable. Don't tell me you missed our little chats?"
"Just curious."
"Let's say I had front-row seats. Watching your every move."
The voice oozed like a viscous whisper.
"I told you your Heralds would prove useful."
"And they have," Yamato admitted without arrogance.
"Lina fuels her cult by punishing Yoru. Selka judges the nobles as symbols of the old order."
"Correction, not destruction… as it should be," Nebel purred. "As the world should work."
At that moment, two figures stepped from the shadows without haste.
Lina and Selka.
The Executioner of Light and the Witch of the Eternal Crossing.
The prophetess of judgment and the scribe of oblivion.
Yamato didn't smile, but his eyes softened.
"Right on time," he murmured, never taking his gaze off the city.
"We've purged Arkenfel and evacuated the citizens worthy of the future city," Selka said. "An Arkenfel free of scum."
"All that remain are Balliard's loyal soldiers, a few adventurers… and the guildmaster," added Lina, folding her arms.
"Good," Yamato said calmly.
"You've done excellent work. Phase One is complete."
Few words.
But true.
And because of that, both women smiled.
Not like fanatics—
But like pieces perfectly aligned in a precise machine.
"Now I want you to deal with the heroines."
He turned his head slightly.
"Selka, go after Nanami. Lina, after Yui."
"Eliminate them?" Selka asked, void of emotion.
"I leave the final decision to you. But if you hesitate… I'd rather you withdraw. Don't waste resources. Or time."
Both nodded in perfect unison, a reflection of their bond.
"Your will be done, Yamato," they answered together. "We promise we won't fail you."
He simply nodded.
Then turned back toward the horizon, just as the first rays of sunlight began to cut through the mist.
His silhouette stretched between the shadows, as if the Void itself acknowledged the arrival of dawn.
He raised two fingers to the earpiece embedded in his ear.
"Seraphina…"
"Here, Master Yamato."
"Activate Phase Two."
"Understood."
The line cut instantly.
Selka and Lina stood at his side. No words. No dramatics.
And as the sun rose, warm and indifferent… the final judgment upon Arkenfel began its descent.
And this time… no one would be saved.