Avalel looks in shock at the dying body of Kavlina, the latter just resting still as her body is pierced. Her mask lay in pieces on the floor, her eyes firmly gazing into his own as her life fades away.

“In the end… Avalel lost,” she weakly utters those words, leaning towards him and further into his sword. “Heh…”

She gave up.

There is no doubt. If they so wanted, they would have fought for eternity, neither side gaining a significant upper hand over the other. Avalel wanted that. It was entertainment for him, fighting until he desired to stop. Except the Maiden— no, Kavlina stopped before he wanted it to stop. He will always have the victory, but this isn’t what he envisioned. This isn’t how it’s supposed to end.

In one final act of rebellion, she has denied him a satisfactory victory.

The Black Maiden has died. Kavlina has died.

Just as he once drove his sword through Tarak’s body, he did the same to Kavlina. Without hesitation. He has killed them both by his own hand. If Kavlina had kept her mask on until the last moment, she might’ve died as the Black Maiden, a mysterious figure till the end. Her mask broke to let him see the extent of his crimes, the betrayals he has committed to the people he once considered his dearest.

He began the journey to protect her. They were supposed to be together, accompanying each other through their lives. Even when they had separated, they trusted in each other’s survival and eventually reunited somewhere. They promised to protect each other. He thought that promise was destroyed five years ago, when he assumed Kavlina to be killed and Tarak gored by his own weapon. He had succumbed to the Anapadeia and to Fate because he no longer had any desire for anything. Protect the world? That dream was dashed the moment he failed to protect that unnamed village.

Avalel had died the moment he submitted to Fate.

Yet Kavlina lived on, transforming herself into another identity, surviving only to kill him. While he had given up, she struggled on. If he had known about her survival, he would’ve fallen at her feet, allowing her to kill him. He deserves it. Just to put an end to everything. He wasn’t really living, anyway.

But given his vast intelligence networks in the New Rule, he could’ve done so if he wished to find her whereabouts. He could’ve sent spies and soldiers to search the area where she was last seen, on that battlefield near that unnamed village. He never actually confirmed whether she was dead after that day, after all. He just assumed.

That mistake has cost him.

Too much.

He has inflicted hopelessness on them this entire battle. Now it’s his turn.

There were so many possibilities where he might’ve reconciled with her in some way. The two long-lost friends, finally reunited in some way or another. Perhaps they might’ve shared many more moments together, reigniting Avalel’s desire to protect others from the war. Maybe they might’ve seen the war to its end, rebuilding the world in its aftermath. Just the two of them, finally relaxing as peace and solace. And if he were to be killed by her, he would’ve simply wished her to have closure as she executed him for what he had done.

But he is corrupted, enslaved by power. Instead of protecting the world, he has only increased its suffering. Instead of avoiding war, he has put himself at its very forefront, delivering destruction to his enemies as he went. He has become the perpetrator, the one to continue fanning the flames. And in the process, killed the friend he once considered his closest in the past.

He is now a follower of Fate, destined to reach this final destination. It must be some sick joke to have him destroy the only remnant of himself, of Avalel as he knew before he claimed the title of the “vessel of Fate”.

But that is the path.

There can be no regrets. Even if he wishes for things to change, it is not up to him to decide. His crimes are already done. There is no turning back. There is no deviating from the path either, for he is “blessed” to carry out Fate till its end. Whatever that means.

He is on the side of Fate, forever guaranteed victory… for Fate itself. He has chosen the correct side, and he cannot abandon his chains. He cannot desire personal freedom, for that contradicts his entire role as the vessel as Fate has instructed. He will feel sadness, but he will not tempt himself to abandon Fate.

The deed is done. Kavlina is dead. He has no more temptations, nothing further to hold him back. For Fate is now his only support, and without it, he is but an empty husk. There are no more companions for him to rely on, no more mentors to guide him on his path. He has killed them all. Fate is all he has.

There will be no grieving. Everything is part of Fate’s grand plan. If anything, he should be elated that the path is taking its course, that his last obstacle is triumphed over. It has finally forced him to move on. All those so-called regrets have already passed away along with his old self.

Fate, Fate, Fate, Fate… He is already bound to its path since the very beginning.

Fate, Fate, Fate, Fate… That is him now.

Sanity? That mortal word does not belong to his state now.

He removes his blades, returning to his normal form. Kavlina falls and crumples to the floor, her skin beginning to pale as blood and black matter oozes out from her chest. The black matter instantly disintegrates as it touches the floor, leaving only the mildly viscous blood spilled all over the floor.

Even as the battle continues to rage outside, in Avalel’s mind there is only an eerie silence.

He kneels, turning Kavlina over on her back, letting her rest on a bed of blood. Her black hair is slowly drenched, her clothing is soaked in red. This will be her grave. The grave of an individual who dared to go against Fate, leading to her demise in the end.

It’s all her fault.

Well, not really. She’s just destined to die on this day. To call it misfortune is wrong… Fate just decided for her to die in such a way. He, the vessel, just carried it out. No one’s in the wrong. Everything just took its path.

Of course. That’s the ideal path that Fate has decided upon. It is supposed to be perfect.

A flawless ending. Just as things should be under Fate’s complete control. He doesn’t have to regret anything. This is the best result.

Of course, of course, of course…

He stands. “That was quite entertaining, Maiden,” he says coldly.

Turning, he begins to walk towards Nasition, who should be on his last breaths now.

The Black Maiden is dead.

That “dance” only took moments, reality itself seemingly warped as the two of them dueled, but now it’s all over. Avalel has stabbed cleanly through the Maiden’s torso.

And Nasition can do nothing but watch helplessly as he awaits his own death.

Her mask breaks, its pieces clattering on the floor. Despite his fading vision, Nasition can still make out the vague features of an individual. An individual he might as well have otherwise forgotten, but is too familiar with Avalel just directly opposite her.

Kavlina. Avalel’s friend once upon a time, but now murdered by that monster’s hand.

This is hilarious.

He laughs weakly, greatly amused by the revelation. Oh, Avalel, look at you. So much for being the “savior”. In the end, you’re just the same as everyone else, losing all you hold dear. What a marvelous play by your master “Fate”, toying with you even at this moment. Such “entertainment”!

He remembers tracking Avalel in the beginning, and that Kavlina was almost always by his side, a loyal friend through thick and thin. He thought she was dead when Tanalien invaded that village, but against all odds… She survived.

And her prosthetic arm, made from Confederation technology… A person in the Confederation must’ve taken her in at some point. A person with enough power and wealth to order a prosthetic arm without him or the production authorities noticing.

The now long-defunct Battalion Elethien had that power.

Tevlaia… You had a hand in this, didn’t you?

For her, once Avalel’s most loyal companion, to desire him to be killed so strongly, there is no wonder that her hatred runs so deep. And in the very end, she is the one who’s killed so swiftly and coldly.

As for Avalel… the boy has no reaction to it all.

This must be some joke. All the puzzle pieces fit perfectly one by one. And Nasition is enjoying every moment of it.

Who could’ve even expected this? To directly kill one’s friend in such a manner, without even a shred of regret when that mask has fallen, the identity revealed. It’s as if Avalel has completely forgotten Kavlina’s face, seeing her as just another person he has murdered.

Oh, the embarrassing bathos of it all! Even Stasibel will be ashamed to have such a son.

Avalel is far more wretched than his father. The former at least had a trace of shame and guilt when Norai was killed. But Avalel? A sword through the chest of his close friend, and no reaction of the sort. The sheer ridiculousness of it all might as well make Nasition, who has caused the deaths of millions of soldiers, a saint.

Ah, to relish in such amusement and enjoyment right up until the end… It makes him forget he is pretty much a dead man.

Avalel is walking towards him now, the monster coming to finish off his next prey. The Confederation, his life’s work, will soon be undone. After over two decades of war, the world will soon return to the familiar tyranny of the past. All the sacrifices for nothing, all the pain for naught, all the struggle just to let royalty back on the throne. The stupidity, the absurdity of it all…

“So you finally defeated her, huh,” Nasition croaks.

“The end was already decided from the beginning,” Avalel answers. “Fate cannot be resisted.”

There is not a shred of emotion in the monster’s voice.

“Tell me then, Avalel,” Nasition questions. “Did Fate anticipate the identity of the Maiden?”

“Of course it did.” The nonchalance in his voice is slightly unnerving. As if this is just a natural occurrence.

A sword appears in Avalel’s hand, a cross of pure light and energy, in the same shape that ruthlessly killed Kavlina before. Meanwhile, Nasition begins to feel faint, the blood loss finally reaching a critical point. It must be the time for his death now.

As the monster approaches closer and closer, Nasition braces himself, sitting upright in a dignified position before tilting his head to expose his neck.

Goodbye to the Confederation. Goodbye to his faction. Goodbye to his dreams of a free world away from monarchy. Well, if there’s an afterlife, at least he can be reunited with Norai. He isn’t too unhappy, just disappointed at how everything is ending. In an attempt to completely wipe out the royal line beginning five years ago, he is now at death’s door, about to be killed by the same boy he used to obsessively persecute.

“In the end, Fate is a deity that sides with the monarchy,” he sighs. “A shame, really.”

“This is the perfect path,” Avalel says, raising the sword high, the light illuminating the surroundings, outshining even the Elyfesta.

And then the blade swings down.

This is the end, huh?

Nasition’s head rolls off to the floor, his body stunned for a moment before it tumbles forward, lifeless and stiff. The Common Leader of the Confederation is dead, aged just past fifty-four.

Avalel picks up his enemy’s decapitated head, grabbing it as one grabs a ball. The end of a journey, the end of his formative years as an immature child. There is nothing holding him back now. The world is his to take.

Somewhere in him, he still feels empty. Perhaps that is just the dead Avalel calling back for him, tempting away from Fate’s perfect plan. But it doesn’t matter. He cannot stray now. There is still much to do.

He climbs atop the ruined Izatur, overlooking the entire battlefield. His soldiers are still mindlessly charging into the Confederation’s defense, but the enemy is clearly fatigued. With every wave of artillery fire from the New Rule, the Confederation’s response grows weaker and weaker. Aircraft fall out of the sky like comets, crashing into the mountains, setting off beacons of smoke. The battle will soon be over.

His white armor provides a stark contrast with the beige-colored, dust-filled battlefield, his exposed face available for all to see. But everything is too chaotic, too messy. The mortals do not realize they are now in the presence of a deity.

He raises his arm, his sword materializing on his hand. A pillar of light rises from the weapon, piercing the ceiling of the sky, attracting every camera and pair of eyes towards him. The world is watching him. The world is about to witness the declaration of the Elydeia, the one destined to rule over all.

“World, hark the words of Avalel, the vessel, the son of Fate!” he proclaims, his voice echoing across the landscape. Call it magic or a miracle of some sort, the battlefield falls silent, the soldiers stopping their conflict as they notice his lone figure above them all.

He raises the head of Nasition with his other hand, displaying the grotesque scene for all to see. “The Common Leader is dead! Look, wretched slaves of the Confederation, your leader is killed! This is a declaration of triumph, of my victory over the Pass of Elethien! The battle is over!”

A pause, and suddenly, the battlefield erupts into confused chaos. Panicking, the Confederation armies are falling into disarray, a few soldiers already abandoning their posts. Shots are fired, and hysteria sets in, the enemy losing all semblance of organization as they fire upon each other, the New Rule resuming their fire, now this time without any response. The collapse of a military force hundreds of thousands strong, all from the death of one individual.

What a sight to behold.

“The authority of the world is in my hands, my soldiers! Therefore, go and baptize the enemies in a rain of fire, all in the name of Avalel, of Elethien, of Fate! I will always lead you and be with you, from now till the end of the world itself! The Confederation has fallen, the New Rule will rise!”

His roar of victory reaches the ears of the soldiers, blessing them with reinvigorated strength. The avalanche begins to roll, the New Rule trampling over Confederation defenses with practically no resistance. Everything Nasition had once fought for is being undone. The New Rule is no longer just another faction, but on its way to become a fully fledged nation. A nation to be ruled by Avalel, a nation dominating over the world as the Achien Empire had done in the past millennium, a nation blessed by Fate to be unending. Eternal.

What fun.