TALMAN TALES - NEW WORLD ORDER

  Chapter 9 – The Inevitable (Part 3)

  With this spell, you poured your remaining magic into a shield and cocooned yourself into a beautiful gemstone in the color of your magic. This spell produced stronger and more powerful crystals the stronger the user’s magic was.

  Inside this gemstone, you fall into a state of eternal sleep and survive purely through the absorption of natural energy.

  Before the dark spells, it was my last resort to save myself, so I took the initiative. I could grant protection for nearly 15 minutes—after that, 90 hungry beasts would throw themselves at me and end my life. In those 15 minutes, I clung to one great hope: someone had to find me and defeat the Mushkaren. So I lay down on the ground and began to crystallize.

  Just in time, I completed the transformation. Not five seconds later, all the Mushkaren threw themselves at me. Even though I knew the shield would surely hold, it was unsettling to lie helpless on the ground and, half-asleep, realize that hungry beasts were simply waiting for your shield to give out. Quick comment from Queen Auri: there have definitely been more pleasant situations I’ve been in.

  It was pure terror. I counted the seconds I had left. Thirteen minutes had passed—slowly it got tight. The banging against the walls of my crystal and the scraping of their teeth became a part of me. After a while I no longer noticed it and instead focused on seeing my life once more before my eyes. Beautiful moments—but the shadow sides of my life were shown to me again as well.

  Funny memories and sad ones. Sunny days and rainy ones. Everything—simply everything—came to my mind. I wanted to dedicate the final moment of my thoughts to Zeki: a boy who changed me, who improved my life. I was so grateful for his unbelievably strong will that I wanted to give him my last thought before I closed my eyes forever.

  As you can surely guess—given that she is still working on this book so actively today—fate protected her once again. Her last thought belonged to Zeki, and he was the very one who entered the battlefield 15 seconds before the shield expired and made 90 Mushkaren his enemies. A well-placed “COME HERE AND DIE, YOU BASTARDS!” echoing across the battlefield drew attention to Zeki.

  My friend once again proved his qualities. Together with Stahlhaart, he annihilated countless Mushkaren. Aside from the blood splatters on my crystal and Zeki’s battle roars, I couldn’t perceive much—but somehow… somehow I enjoyed it. The thought that Zeki was once again contributing another piece toward turning the future of the Schattenreich—he admired me, and I could feel we were close to the end.

  That feeling that came over me on the battlefield—it was something between happiness, joy, and warmth. A wonderful change, but at the same time there was the shadow side of that feeling: a mixture of suffering, hate, and annihilation. The last thing I saw before I fell asleep and… DON’T YOU DARE TALK ABOUT MY DREAMS. Alright, alright, I understand, Aurelia. YOU’D BETTER.

  Anyway, it was Zeki, Stahlhaart, and Neo who handed me over into Merlin’s care. Aurelia was brought to safety by Merlin—but what about Zeki, Stahlhaart, and Neo? Let me explain, friends. Our protagonists couldn’t even dream of stopping now. A march into the next apocalypse was about to follow—and while the boys set off, we are already there.

  Thanks to Luma!

  Aurelia, I hope you know what comes next. Of course I know—write it down, don’t worry. Good, then I’ll continue.

  Stahlhaart was drawn into the rescue action of Chef le Favre. Neo set out toward Sensei Bi-Shi-Zu. And our good old Zeki searched for Boris’s battlefield.

  First, we’ll look at the story of Stahlhaart and Chef le Favre.

  Unfortunately, I can’t write from Stahlhaart’s perspective here—you know the reasons. So let’s go back to Chef le Favre. We left off when he had just discovered the secret entrance into the kingdom. His story continued.

  He entered the kingdom at an outpost somewhat away from the main gate. Here he recognized the perfect spot to set up a triage station for injured soldiers. But he had a problem—best if he explains it himself.

  Oh shit—what are they doing here? There’s nobody here and nobody is coming. Why are they guarding this place? This is really bad for me. Sure, I could beat these two sleepyheads, but if they sound the alarm, I can say my last prayer.

  I have an idea. Thank God I bought the quadruple catapult for the bargain price of 2,500 Olevs. The seller was kind of creepy, but for a contraption like that, it’s worth spending money. I never would’ve thought this thing would save my ass.

  While the Mushkaren followed their boring routine and treated themselves to sleep, I successfully conjured the device from my bag and began preparing. I didn’t want to cause a scene, so I worked as quietly as I could. I loaded the catapult with four heavy iron balls and aimed it. When I was finally ready, I only had to draw the Mushkaren to me.

  I assumed they would charge at anything that came between their teeth. So I woke them up with targeted throws at their ugly heads. Then I hid for a moment and threw another stone, this time in front of the catapult. The strategy was so stupid, but it was my only one. The Mushkaren actually charged immediately, so I only had to wait for the perfect moment to fire.

  Not yet… no, wait… NOW!

  Shit. I’d set the catapult a bit too far to the right. That was probably my downfall. I managed to smash both eyeballs of one Mushkaren—he dropped dead instantly—but I still had the other one, and I had only blown out one eye. Unhindered, it charged at me. I was helpless.

  My life had already flashed by, when an idea hit me. I still had my war hammer. I wanted to use it to push off the ground and somehow destroy the enemy’s remaining eye. A plan built out of hope is truly not a good one, but I’m not Neo with the craziest ideas. Whatever it was, I had to do it right now. So I didn’t beat around the bush and pulled the hammer.

  With all my strength, I slammed the hammer into the ground, used the force, and pushed off from the handle of my weapon. In the air I was helpless again. Seconds passed, but it felt like minutes. Suddenly I could see everything so clearly. I decided to use my beloved knife, Maxence.

  It once defended me from the spiders—today it would protect me from the Mushkaren.

  Everything happened in a flash and yet in slow motion. With improvisation, I managed to kill the Mushkaren. So it was done and I could continue my mission. I only had to dispose of the Mushkaren corpses and could build my medical center.

  For the beginning, I used a few tents and the already crumbling existing infrastructure. Every injured warrior I could collect was brought to this camp. While I went looking for more allies, our brave soldiers could at least relax a little. For a long time, this worked very well. Many more creatures of the Schattenreich ended up at my station.

  In total, we recorded over 750 creatures. Alone, I never could’ve handled that number, but with the strong support of a few of the saved warriors, we were able to bring even more to safety.

  But that changed when a group of 10 Mushkaren came toward us. This area was so deserted—why were 10 Mushkaren roaming around here?

  I told my allies to hide as best they could. I too waited in my hiding spot. For the first time, I was able to follow a Mushkaren conversation. Hearing beings that usually made nothing but battle screams actually talk was a crucial realization. It proved they had intelligence. It may not be much if you consider my catapult plan, but it’s still unsettling.

  I heard the following: one was called Mushkanton, the other called himself Mushkandreas. They talked about how “fragrant” Mushkantonia’s underwear stank. Well, I don’t have to understand that. But they also talked about this war. They were convinced they had to end it and finally have their peace again.

  They said: “Now that Fiachra is dealing with the Braunstein problem, we can end this madness. So many of us have died—and who killed them? A boy who doesn’t even have hair on his balls yet.

  I’m telling you, Mushkanton, how long is this supposed to go on? His head has to roll. Fiachra gave us the order and we’re too incompetent to carry it out.”

  After that came typical Mushkaren chatter—nothing worth mentioning. But just as they were about to leave and I crawled out of my hiding spot, I was almost spotted.

  “Wait, you pig—are you really leaving already?”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t want anything to do with this.”

  “Don’t shit yourself. Get back here.”

  The other eight had already disappeared, but these two just wouldn’t leave. Again and again I heard, “What if Aonir finds out?”

  Who was Aonir?

  I didn’t know. But I did know these two toads had stuffed themselves a fat pipe full of beautifully violet, wildly growing herb. That’s why they’d stayed here so long: they didn’t want to be caught in their illegal activity.

  Everything was fine—until one of them joked, “Hey, that wall over there… doesn’t it look like a creature?”

  And that shifted all of our fates.

  It actually was a creature. It was Buddy the Camoechse.

  My hope was pointless. They still went to look closer and discovered our camp. Naturally, all my allies were terrified, and Buddy started trembling in fear. Of course, her camouflage fell apart immediately. Apparently these things weren’t that stupid after all. The panic that followed set everything in motion.

  One of the Mushkaren wanted to kill.

  And then I crawled out. No idea why. Guided by a pulse from my heart, I left my hiding spot and screamed like I had never screamed before:

  “STAY AWAY FROM THEM, YOU DEGENERATES!”

  It came from my lips like a match that sets a forest on fire. The comparison made zero sense, but you know what I mean.

  One of those idiots turned toward me immediately.

  I can’t describe it. In that moment, it was the only right thing for me— even though I was basically signing a contract with death.

  Powerless, I waited to be crushed. My bag was at the other end of the street. I was done for.

  Or so I thought—until I heard a sound I didn’t recognize.

  My ears pricked up and I realized…

  the crack of a whip?

  I remembered. That had to be Stahlhaart.

  Great. As if the Mushkaren weren’t enough, now I also had to face Stahlhaart.

  Everything I’d built was already destroyed in my mind.

  But I hadn’t accounted for Stahlhaart.

  I bowed to him and surrendered, and with the words, “Take me, but let them live,” I waited for his steel fist to take me on my final ride.

  But contrary to what I expected, his hand missed me. Instead, it grabbed the Mushkaren behind me, the one who wanted my death more and more with every second.

  “Chef—Zeki sent me. We’ve got this,” he told me, as he drove the enemy straight into a wall and smashed its skull completely with a single blow.

  But the terror wasn’t over. We still had one Mushkaren left: a feral piece of shit that was now pounding on my hard-earned medical station. I was furious, but I couldn’t do anything.

  I was simply too weak for this fight.

  Stahlhaart, however, wasn’t.

  He was my chance.

  When the Mushkaren finally realized Stahlhaart was back on our side, it instantly pulled out its horn, ready to alert its allies.

  Stahlhaart tried to take the horn from it, but the bastard was faster, dodged, and slipped away.

  Still, that gave us one chance. Just one—and a tiny window.

  We had to catch it, or pure chaos would break loose.

  Like a duo forged over years, we instantly understood what to do.

  I gathered my strength and jumped high into the air. Stahlhaart caught me as gently as he could and hurled me at the enemy.

  You rarely see a karate kick as beautiful as that—so elegant, I flew straight at the Mushkaren. It had just raised the horn, and I slammed it—along with its ugly face—into the next wall.

  I wouldn’t call it luck. I’d call it skill. The horn drilled through its head straight into its eyeball.

  The other one I finished off casually with Maxence.

  As great as the show was, it drew a lot of attention.

  The other eight Mushkaren had returned to us.

  Sadly, we were too slow, and the worst scenario struck:

  These specimens were not as dumb as the earlier ones. They pulled out their horn immediately and alerted their comrades.

  From now on it was only a matter of time before we were completely overrun.

  I quickly ordered the injured soldiers to get out.

  “Hey, Stahlhaart—are you ready for this?”

  “I was ready when your name was still Bastian.”

  We clicked instantly. So we ran, trying to protect the retreat path of our allies.

  I was halfway when I remembered: my bag was still hidden under a terrace in the shade.

  It was a gift from the man who sacrificed himself for me—who inspired me to rethink my actions.

  My last memory of Master Eibrau.

  I couldn’t give it up.

  So I decided to get it.

  A fatal mistake.

  Not only did eight furious Mushkaren rush at me—something worse hit me:

  Yes, I reached the bag and held it in my hands again, but the crumbling masonry of old Abrofar did not show mercy.

  Because of the shockwaves those assholes caused, the ceiling collapsed onto me.

  Stahlhaart turned instantly—but it was too late.

  My luck had left me.

  Pinned under the rubble, all I could do was leave him my bag.

  What began with a Stone-Throw Special Move ended with a Bag-Throw Special Move—me throwing him my bag.

  So now I could only close my eyes and enjoy my last moments.

  “Hey, Stahlhaart,” I rasped with my last strength.

  It was so quiet, and he was far from me, but he still reacted.

  But what did I even want to tell him?

  One last time I relived the best moments of my life.

  Even though it was ending, I still kept my humanity—and that made it a little easier.

  It was time. The Mushkaren—and my end—had reached me.

  I felt the rubble above me loosen more and more.

  Then I felt those disgusting hands.

  They held me, gnawed every limb off my body, and finally—when I could no longer endure— they tore my head off.

  Today my story ended.

  If anyone had ever told me it would come to this, I think I would’ve laughed.

  A boy—dehydrated and exhausted from a long march—received food and drink from me.

  That’s who I always was: I looked at others first, then at myself.

  All of this, driven by humanity—and still, I would choose it again and again.

  Even if it brought me nothing but suffering, I am proud that I gave my life in exchange for the many creatures of the Schattenreich.

  At least they will remember me as a human.

  Rest in peace, Chef le Favre.

  Thank you for your wonderful deeds and your enormous help.

  Now you can find your peace. You are immortalized in Zeki’s book, and anyone can read your story.

  And us?

  We have to move on to the next fight. Sensei is already waiting.

  As always, we jump straight to Sensei.

  Our strength grew weaker and weaker. I struggled, and so did Artemis.

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  This fight would be decided within the next minutes.

  My reflection was about to go out. I didn’t care.

  Artemis was already so weakened by my attacks that I needed neither the reflection nor my nunchakus to finish it. My only anchor was my strength and technique.

  Though close combat against Artemis was nearly impossible.

  He fought with my technique—of course. I taught it to him.

  Fighting my own tactics was a great challenge, but not an impossible one.

  Again and again we collided. Sometimes I landed a combo, sometimes Artemis injured me.

  It went so far that at some point we staggered toward each other like zombies.

  Here we had the best chance to end it with words instead of fists, but neither Artemis nor I had any intention of doing that.

  In slow motion we fought to the bitter end.

  Fate gave me a chance, so I had to use it.

  Artemis stumbled from his heavy wounds and finally collapsed.

  I seized the opportunity immediately and took the upper hand.

  I sat on his chest and began to punch his skull in.

  Seventeen punches.

  The same number of blows with which he murdered his father.

  Not only did I have seventeen fists ready—seventeen questions also rose in my mind:

  Artemis, why did you wipe out the school?

  Why couldn’t I help you?

  How could it come to this?

  The first three blows landed.

  Even if I didn’t speak my questions out loud, I still asked them.

  What did I do wrong?

  What should I have done better?

  Why didn’t I defeat you back then?

  Artemis’ face absorbed the next hammers. I couldn’t recognize it anymore through all the blood flooding it.

  Why did you distance yourself?

  Why did my prophecy fail in you?

  What was the reason?

  That’s what you always ask afterward, of course.

  Nine punches straight into his face—there was nothing left of him except his cowering.

  Was I a bad teacher?

  Did I simply have the wrong dream?

  What if Zeki suffers the same fate?

  By now the punches turned into self-doubt.

  Even though I knew Zeki was stronger than Artemis ever was, those doubts still haunted me.

  Why did I have to suffer this fate?

  What if I had never trained you?

  Who was to blame for this ending?

  Punch number fifteen—and Artemis finally spoke.

  “Just finish it already, you old sack. You’re probably wondering who’s to blame for this—no one but you and your disgusting bitch. It’s you.”

  I didn’t let him continue.

  For the first time, I spoke my questions out loud—no, I didn’t speak.

  I screamed.

  I screamed my soul out of my body.

  WHY ARE YOU DRAGGING HER INTO THIS?

  AND WHY THE HELL WON’T YOU JUST DIE ALREADY?

  These were my last questions to him.

  One last time he opened his blood-red eyes and stared straight into the soul I had sold to Stra.

  An arrogant smile, followed by “Bi-Shi-Zu, you fucking idiot,” was his answer.

  He had a surprise prepared for me—one even I did not see coming.

  He closed his eyes. I waited, until his heart stopped beating.

  A fatal mistake.

  The moment his heart stopped, Artemis’ body turned into a bomb.

  Immediately after his death, it detonated.

  A massive explosion hit me—one I could not escape.

  So I prepared to enter Stra’s soul prison.

  Now I lie on the battlefield, half my body blasted away by my former student.

  I defeated him, but he dragged me into death with him.

  I hadn’t even noticed Neo’s arrival anymore.

  He had arrived shortly before the explosion and could only see my body torn into shreds.

  Now that my life is over, I can look back on my actions. I had always had the goal of moving the youth. I had always wanted to help—whether in my time under Albo, when I destroyed my comrades to protect my homeland. The time of my own fighting school and its downfall. Or taking in two completely neglected children and training them into warriors.

  No matter what situation I was in, I always did my best to end the cycle of hate—the cycle that had driven even me into the depths of hate. Zeki and Aurelia remained as my last hope. I had burdened them with so much, only to then be unable to see Zeki take the throne and set this cursed realm back on course.

  It doesn’t matter. I gave everything— I know that, Li-Sa knows that, and all the other characters of my life know it too, even if I left them behind in grief.

  Rest in peace, Sensei.

  You were a husband, a teacher, a comrade—and above all: a friend. An important friend. I’m speaking here for Zeki, Aurelia, and all the others who were allowed to know you. I myself had little to do with you, and yet your story moved me.

  So I want to briefly thank you as Luma.

  Thank you for your deeds, thank you for your commitment, thank you for your stories. Your laughter, your emotions, your joy, and your pride—thank you for passing all of that on to the next generation. You managed to fill the Schattenreich with things it hadn’t known for a long time.

  Not out of lust for power, not for your own benefit, but out of pure humanity, you acted the way you did. Your farm was financially at the end, and yet you took in two children who were cast out by the world. Your wife suffered from an illness—you didn’t hesitate to release her from her suffering, even though you knew it would make you suffer all the more.

  You left your soul for others. You walked the path of suffering to keep others from it. Sensei Bi-Shi-Zu—even if you never knew me, I knew you and admired you. Thank you for everything. Now find your peace and recover from your suffering.

  As sorry as I am—the terror of the ninth bell toll is not over yet. We still have one final battlefield.

  Welcome to Boris versus Aonir.

  We are with Boris on the battlefield. I felt immense pain. The fight had dragged on for a long time, and both Aonir and Boris were at the end of their strength. My blood-soaked clothes stank of Mushkaren scum—a vile stench that hurt my nose more than the curse hurt my body. These beasts carried a unique stink; that alone was reason enough to wipe them out.

  But right now I had a different problem: Aonir still stood before me. Even though he regenerated steadily, he was still struggling with the prolonged fighting. That put me in a good position. Even though I myself was completely exhausted and would’ve loved to drop dead, I had debts to settle. I was given the chance to finally end the story with Aonir—and I used it masterfully.

  I drew everything out of myself one last time, took a running start, and sprinted straight toward the enemy, raising my axes proudly to the sky. Then I met the mighty Mushkaren. I hurled the first axe into his right foot, then used it like a springboard and, in midair, severed his hand. Same strategy as before: I only had to cut off his other hand and it would be done.

  I pulled off the same trick again and managed to grievously wound this monster. Now it was one more attack and my people would be saved—but this bastard threw a wrench into my plans. He let out a terrifying scream, so loud my ears nearly burst. I was caught off guard, and suddenly several hundred Mushkaren stood before me, ready to end me.

  I had no other option. I had to lift the limit of my body and thus sign a contract with death. I still had so much to say—first and foremost to my friends, comrades, and subjects. The moment I chose to lift the limit, I forfeited my right to that. I had nothing left to lose. So I set down the royal crown and stormed into battle as a future ancestor.

  My ancestors, the curse, and my legacy no longer mattered in my final fight. This was the moment I joined my father and the kings of Abrofar and carved myself into the history of the Schattenreich.

  The black smoke around me grew burning hot and polluted the air of the entire area with an even more bestial stench—ancient warriors of Abrofar who did the same and chose the path of glory and honor. One last march I had to make, one last time lead my people from the front.

  More than 1,500 undead warriors of my kingdom were at my disposal, but I pursued only one goal: Aonir would be executed for his deeds. An entire people depended on me. I set the warriors of my kingdom upon the many Mushkaren who threw themselves in front of Aonir as a shield. That bastard tried to flee again—but this time he hadn’t reckoned with me. He would not escape me again.

  The fight dragged on, so I had to restart my musical pleasure in my head. Whether I wanted it or not, I had to deal with Aonir’s servants; he had retreated deep into the heart of the kingdom. Another barrier stood before me—yet I did not miss my moment. Like the god of death, I danced through the enemy ranks.

  With the limit lifted, my combat power rose into the immeasurable. I was already half-transformed into that dangerously hot smoke—I had to hurry. One after another dropped dead. I didn’t even have to try anymore.

  Together with the kingdom of my ancestors and their brave warriors, we not only cleared the battlefield—we also annihilated many more Mushkaren on our way deeper into the kingdom. A people that felt nothing but hate for these abominations could surely achieve a lot.

  When I was already two-thirds smoke and my strength slowly began to fail, I found him again. There he was—completely defenseless and at the mercy of a beast like me. Aonir thought he was safe on the marketplace. Today there was no safety—not for him, not for me. Today there was only the pure hate of an entire people, and the Mushkaren would feel it.

  “BORIS, WHERE ARE YOU?

  BORIS, I’M LOOKING FOR YOU.”

  Not this too. Can’t a man sacrifice himself in peace for once?

  I didn’t have much time left before I would experience the world only as smoke. I had to finish it. I didn’t have many other options anyway.

  As sorry as I was, I had bigger concerns than Zeki. I had no time to focus on him too.

  For this scene, I’d like to switch to Zeki.

  “Hey, you there!”

  I readied myself. I didn’t know this being and prepared for an ambush.

  “Please don’t— you’re Zeki, right?”

  Yes. How did you know that?

  “I’m an old warrior of the Kingdom of Abrofar. Albert de Graaf told me a lot about you.”

  Albert? Isn’t his name Boris?

  “Boris is Albert’s son. And speaking of him—have you ever seen a new ancestor of the kingdom being born?”

  No. Where is he? TELL ME!

  “Easy. There’s nothing you can do anymore. He’s with Aonir on the marketplace of the kingdom, but for your own safety, I’d advise you not to enter the battlefield.”

  Thanks, but let me decide who I support and who I don’t. Boris is pretty high on that list. On to Boris!

  I simply followed the trail of blood that led into the kingdom.

  Everywhere lay shredded Mushkaren corpses. Not even I had spread such suffering. What the hell happened here?

  I had no time to think—I had to reach the marketplace. Not a single Mushkare was left anywhere; they’d all been annihilated. But not by Boris, right? That man certainly had strength, but even he couldn’t do something like this.

  There it was—the marketplace at last.

  And Boris was there too.

  I was on the roof of an old building and had a perfect view of their fight.

  I shouted, “HEY BORIS, I’M HERE, I’LL HELP YOU!”

  But Boris didn’t want my help. He answered, “ZEKI, I MEAN IT—GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE.”

  But I wanted to help him. After I tried explaining that, I got another chilling message:

  “SERIOUSLY—GET OUT OF HERE. YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT’S ABOUT TO HAPPEN.”

  But I didn’t want to get out. I wanted to at least enjoy the show if I wasn’t allowed to help. So I grabbed the rickety chair on the roof, brushed the dust off carefully, and had the best view of the spectacle.

  Boris—whose body was now formed from a cloud of smoke—prepared his final attack. He cut off both of Aonir’s arms. Aonir fell to his knees.

  Go! Go! Finish it! I screamed, unaware of the calamity that was about to shake us.

  The sky above us re-formed into something new. Dark clouds shaped into faces. I had no idea—most likely the old kings of Abrofar.

  Eight of those kings gathered as a ring of cloud directly above Boris’ head. Boris took his last running start. At the same time, the kings’ hands rose in the sky. With every meter closer he got to Aonir, the atmosphere grew heavier. You could feel the impending disaster before it happened.

  When Boris finally reached Aonir, he leapt and, with a divine strike, cut off his head. In the exact same moment of impact, something dreadful happened: the kings of Abrofar had timed their attack perfectly. Just as the axes touched the Mushkaren’s head, a sudden hail of immense lightning strikes erupted. Eight of those wonderfully yellow, glowing bolts fired down.

  That was the last thing I could perceive before Boris’ body dissolved and left behind a horrific black cloud of smoke. I wasn’t spared either. I should’ve taken Boris’ warning seriously. Because after that strike, a violent thunderstorm began with those same bolts—hundreds, if not thousands, raining down every second onto the kingdom.

  The marketplace offered nothing but the charged axes stuck in the ground, a Mushkaren crumbled into dust—and Boris’ lifeless body.

  I rushed to him immediately. I barely managed to grab him before his body began to dissolve. One last time I looked the king without a people in the eyes.

  Even though he never wanted to be, he became a hero—not only for us, but for the Kingdom of Abrofar, for the Schattenreich, and for the generations to come. He gave his life for our victory, and we couldn’t even say a quick thank you.

  Only after his death did we understand our loss. Even though the war was won, the Mushkaren annihilated, and the kingdom freed—it didn’t feel like a victory.

  Our worries were over. We should’ve been celebrating.

  But none of us could celebrate.

  Stahlhaart told me about Chef le Favre’s death. Neo told me about Sensei Bi-Shi-Zu’s. And I told them about Boris.

  Hours passed, and I still lay in the middle of the storm on the marketplace of the kingdom— in my hand the ash of black smoke, the last memory of Boris. My tears were drowned by the pouring rain, accompanied by the deafening thunder of the lightning strikes. This war was won, but my battle went on—in absolute silence, in the middle of the empty marketplace.

  I learned painfully that I still had to go on—but I didn’t want to.

  I didn’t want to bow to this madness anymore. I wanted to sink into the abyss of my life on that marketplace.

  But I hadn’t counted on Aurelia.

  While I spiraled through endless grief and threatened to suffocate in the darkness, a hand was offered to me.

  Aurelia offered me her help and brought me back to life by her own power. She was clearly grieving too—maybe more than she would ever admit—and yet she had the strength to help me.

  In that moment, I learned what true strength means. It wasn’t simply how many Mushkaren died by your hand or how hard you can hit.

  True strength was exactly this situation: getting back up after a blow of fate—and even though you yourself were badly hurt, reaching out to someone else and offering your hand.

  That was true strength, and Aurelia made me live it.

  I—the one always at the front, always choosing the path of war, always talking about strength—had no idea the whole time what strength truly meant.

  The ninth bell toll was done. We had freed the Schattenreich from the Mushkaren—yet further malicious creatures were still waiting in my realm. Some of those creatures carry a name, and some do not.

  Luma, I hate to interrupt, but may I throw something in?

  No problem, Aurelia—then I’ll lean back. You can already look behind you.

  AAHHHURELIA.

  Hahaha. Every time, still funny.

  Friends—do I still even need to announce myself? Whatever. You know it’s Aurelia here.

  The inevitable had happened and we had escaped the terror of the ninth and final bell toll—but at what cost? Dwayne, Master Eibrau, Chef le Favre, Sensei Bi-Shi-Zu, BORIS, and many more of my comrades and friends had to lose their lives.

  Every one of them sacrificed themselves for the good and for a better future of the Schattenreich. Every one of them believed in Zeki’s path and supported him unconditionally in a war that couldn’t have been more horrific. I remember the incident with Neo’s super-weapon, and also the first war with the Mushkaren.

  So many, so terrible scenes burned themselves into the minds of the survivors—mine included.

  I had watched many of my friends die, killed my own parents, lost my village, and murdered my own allies.

  But my fate wasn’t even the most tragic.

  This… damned… WORLD LEAVES NOTHING BUT PAIN. I HAVE PEACE AND YET—AND YET—I AM TRAPPED IN THE MEMORIES OF THE ABYSS. THIS WAR HAS TAKEN OVER MY LIFE.

  Aurelia, please calm down. I know times are hard.

  CALM DOWN, YOU SAY? I’LL SHOW YOU HOW I CALM DOWN, YOU CLOWN. YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND ME. I HAVE NOTHING LEFT—NOTHING BUT NOTHING. ZERO. NADA. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?

  So does Zeki. You have to support each other, or you’ll both break.

  No. Zeki is so perfect—he doesn’t break. I’m the weak one. I break under this weight, and Zeki protects me yet again.

  Aurelia, believe me— even if he doesn’t show it, Zeki grieves a lot. Just in his own way. This book was born out of pure will—to end his eternal suffering from this war. Aurelia, that boy has been clinging to this book for three years now. He has cried and still written. That was his way of dealing with pain.

  Don’t tell me that. I’ve been reading along for three years. The boy has never lived better.

  Aurelia, forgive me—but while you only read, I was with Zeki. I followed him. He poured his heart and soul into this book. With no experience, he just wrote. With emotions. With thoughts. With the will to leave a legacy for his comrades and friends.

  Zeki has made it his task to be a better person. I’m no expert, but I believe your hand on the battlefield with Boris worked wonders in him.

  What? I just wanted to help him stand up. I was totally shocked myself.

  For Zeki, that was enough to question his decisions and begin the glorious future.

  Even if he doesn’t show it—getting the chance to see you again after three years of silence and loneliness made him incredibly happy. I know that too, but he doesn’t know how happy it makes me. I tried to suppress it, but I knew I’d have to face it at some point—even if I wanted to die before then. By now, I believe Zeki is the last way out of this hell.

  See? You have to support each other.

  Luma, thank you so much for this conversation. You helped me a lot. That single conversation gave me so much clarity—I finally see it. I always look only at the past, but I forgot that neither Boris nor the others would’ve wanted us to hide at home and disappear.

  Now I can see the future ahead of us.

  A place full of sunshine, open to the world, and all creatures enjoy equality. Whether a human of the first or the fourth class, a spider or a golem—everyone has their place, and everyone can learn things from the other and push this world forward immensely.

  That was my vision of the future. Now we have to make it real.

  A heartfelt thank you to you, Luma!

  Oh Aurelia—is that a perfectly golden-brown schnitzel?!! Even by Herr Rosenberg’s recipe. What did I do to deserve this?

  As a thank you.

  Stopping scaring me would’ve been enough, but still—thank you.

  Friends, this is by no means disgusting. Seeing the image of a good schnitzel is like a cigarette for one person—or an apple for a Shinigami.

  Honestly, I didn’t know that, Luma.

  Does that mean I can turn you into a chain smoker?

  In theory, yes.

  No. You only get your cigarette if you behave.

  Is that a threat, young lady?

  No—an incentive for you to behave. Like they say: if you want to smoke, you have to be well-behaved? No—wait, that’s not it.

  I think you mean: if you want to be beautiful, you have to suffer?

  No. That one is my proverb, Luma.

  Anyway, I still hadn’t finished telling the story.

  It was July 7, 1360 n. gKS—more precisely, the first year before the new timekeeping Zeki introduced. He named it “The Time of Victory.” So we were in 1 b. TdV.

  Did I mention that already? I know— I just wanted to introduce the abbreviation to make it easier for you going forward. Right now we’re in the year 2 a. TdV.

  The way we’ll do it in two days, we had already done it three years ago.

  A week had passed since the victory over the Mushkaren, and we met in Zeki’s parents’ house. He had clearly restored it—just to celebrate his 23rd birthday with us. Present were the survivors: me, Neo, Stahlhaart, and Goatabi.

  The mood was heavy, because this spectacle still had a place in our heads.

  But as the day grew later and our tongues loosened from excessive consumption of the unbelievably good Apfelhainer apple must that I had brought, interesting conversations emerged.

  Zeki took the floor and everyone listened to him intently.

  “Today, exactly 17 years ago, I lived through the day that would change my life forever.

  I want to tell you my story of suffering and make you understand why I became the one I am today. But let’s start from the beginning.

  My life began around the year 1337 after the great war of the Schattenreich. I was born in the main district, Schattental. My parents were loving and, despite their stressful work, always found time for me. We didn’t have much, but I was more than satisfied with my situation.”