205. Melancholic Primo Victoria
Twelve hours had passed since the victory of the Solis Aeternum, which marked the fall of the Umbral Dunkelheit on 1st April 2539 Common Era.
Three massive vessels hovered over the mountains, their sleek, metallic surfaces bathed in the sunlight. The Yamamoto flagship and the Zeigerlich battlecruiser flanked the captured Santose V battlecruiser. The remaining Umbral forces had either surrendered or fled.
Two crash sites still smouldered, scarring the landscape with smoke and fire. The first held the ruins of Vanguard Bravo, perched precariously atop the broken mountain ridges where Lunaris Willhelm Mae Arden had brought it down single-handedly.
To the east, the second crash site was a far greater wound upon the earth. Trees were obliterated and the soil was gouged away, exposing a dark, molten floor where the remnants of two battlecruisers, the Alpha and Charlie, lay in utter annihilation.
None who had gone down with the dying leviathan survived.
Admiral Sandria had her best attempt to keep the battle airborne to minimise the collateral damage to the villages on the border. Still, it was undeniable that some innocent lives had been lost to misfire and the Armatus fallen.
On board the flagship of Solis Aeternum, Princess Aurelia navigated the bustling corridors. Her pace was frantic, yet she couldn't ignore the flurry of activity around her.
The non-combatant crew, weary but resolute, worked to manage the aftermath of the battle.
Upon reaching the designated conference room, the royal guards at the door recognised her instantly, stepping aside to grant her entry.
Aurelia paused, poking her head around the frame to scan the tense room. She took a quiet moment to smooth her white and gold tunic, murmuring to herself, “Am I presentable? Who cares anyway?” She dismissed the thought.
“We have sustained minimal damage to the exterior; however, the secondary A.E.G.I.S. has malfunctioned…” Sandria's monotonous narration echoed from the centre of the room.
“That’s because the core lube oil cooling unit is toasted!“ The rowdy old engineer replied with a nerdy point, “I suggested, just replace the whole skid at this point. It wouldn’t be worth the amount of time and effort my crews have to put in to try to troubleshoot and find faults! When everything, I mean 90 per cent of everything, is faulty!“ Although he whined, the old man did have sound logic.
“We understand that Chief Engineer Ito, it’s just that the logistics are not in our favour at the moment,“ Sandria replied, her face exhausted, the circles under her eyes visibly darker.
"We can supply the necessary components, Admiral," one of the Thylin high officials stated, his tone smooth as polished steel. "Pumps, piping, control systems... whatever you require to get the A.E.G.I.S. back to full operational capacity."
"Of course," another official added with a practised, reassuring smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"To ensure perfect integration, our researchers would just need the original schematics, engineering drawings, and any relevant OEM diagnostic reports. A formality, you understand."
Sandria’s eyes narrowed, catching the logo on their credentials: Arc-Harm Inc. Vultures, she thought, a cold knot tightening in her stomach. “They aren't offering aid. They're conducting corporate espionage under the guise of reconstruction. They want to strip our technology bare while we're vulnerable.”
"Our A.E.G.I.S. schematics are classified military assets," Sandria stated, her voice dropping to an icy calm that contrasted sharply with the engineer's earlier outburst. "That is not a request we can entertain."
Sandria glanced at Lume, who offered no help whatsoever, and she let out a deep sigh.
The first official’s smile didn't falter. "A necessary precaution, we understand. But without the data, our ability to assist will be... limited. It would be a shame for your flagship to remain compromised for want of technical collaboration."
The veiled threat hung in the air, thick and suffocating.
The pressure from Chief Ito's practical needs and Arc-Harm Inc.'s predatory offer squeezed Sandria from both sides. Her shoulders, already burdened, felt the immense weight of command. The calm discussion fractured, voices rising as her officers began to argue with the officials.
It was at that breaking point...
“Admiral Sandria, Admiral Lume,” Aurelia eventually found a gap to chime in, her hands waving amicably.
The two generals turned in unison before flashing a smile, and the others offered a nod as a sign of respect.
“Come on in, Princess!“ Lume let out a dry chuckle, motioning for the princess to enter.
As she stepped past the threshold, the brief levity from Lume’s welcome immediately vanished, swallowed by the suffocating weight of the room's atmosphere.
The air crackled with unspoken arguments and frayed nerves. She could see the tension etched on the faces of the officers, in the rigid postures of the Thylin officials, and across the complex data streams projected onto the central table.
Though she had only caught a fraction of the debate, the underlying conflicts were clear. Politics, logistics, aid, reconstruction, the fate of Umbral deserters — every topic was a battlefield in itself.
It reminded her of her father's wisdom and why he had so desperately wished to avoid such conflicts. His pacifism had kept their people safe, but at the cost of turning a blind eye to the misfortune of others.
It had been a terrible dilemma, but seeing the cost of war firsthand, she was glad they had finally entered the fray.
Then, emerging from behind the larger man, was the snake-like Wildren. “High Magnus Rye,” Aurelia added, shifting awkwardly as her serpentine tongue flicked out, making her skin crawl.
“Princess, I appreciate your arrival and your nation’s aid for our people,” Rye replied, before turning to continue her discussion with the others.
“If I may, Admiral, I would like to brief the princess,” Sandria said to Admiral Lume, using the opportunity as a welcome excuse to escape the tense negotiations. The man closed his eyes in a small gesture of approval.
“Let’s hold that discussion for now,“ Sandria announced firmly to everyone.
Rye clasped Lume's shoulder, spinning him toward the massive HUD screens. “Regarding Tabit, there’s a looming threat we need to discuss here. There have been multiple reports of people being kidnapped…” Rye's voice faded as Sandria and Aurelia stepped outside.
Almost dragging her feet, the Admiral of Zeigerlich led Aurelia into a corridor. They passed three Knights whom Aurelia remembered quite vividly; they were former Zeigerlich Knights who had defected and had been Sandria's shadows ever since.
“Admiral, Princess,” the Silver Knight, Eric, saluted crisply. He and his two comrades had already changed into regular attire rather than their personal knight armour.
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“At ease, knights,” Admiral Sandria said sternly, yet her tone was drawling.
“Thank the gods and goddesses you are all safe,” Aurelia exclaimed in relief, clasping her hands to her chest.
“That is all thanks to the Admiral's tactical mind and… our commander here,” a knight with a medical dressing on his head chuckled sheepishly.
“Don't try to flatter me. I'm no commander. We don't have ranks since we abandoned our knightly mantle and codes,” Eric argued, cocking his head to the side.
“Heh, but Commander, you… sob… You saved me in that battle, I thought I was a goner!” the bandaged knight began to cry, using his large bicep to wipe the tears from his face.
Aurelia could only watch in silence. It was surprising to see such a burly, masculine man crying. The stress of the battle must have been immense.
“Oi! Steel yourself, I could save you because the Darkless Knight saved me first! You got it?” Eric barked, while the third knight almost couldn’t contain his chuckles.
“Oh, knight. Please lower your head,” Aurelia instructed solemnly.
“Ahem!” Eric cleared his throat, nudging the injured knight to obey.
Confused at first, the knight complied. He knelt on one knee reluctantly, his eyes shifting from side to side.
“Hold still,” Aurelia whispered, hovering her palm over his head. “Iasis!” she chanted.
A swirl of green leaves fluttered around him, and the pain in his head subsided, leaving only a slight numbness.
“Princess? Did you just…?” the knight gasped, his lips trembling with profound emotion. His dark eyes glistened with the onset of tears.
“Mm,” Aurelia hummed and stepped away, leaving the knight to shed his manly tears.
“You are too kind, Princess,” Sandria commented, striding toward their destination with her hands folded behind her back.
“Not at all. I only wish I could have been here sooner,” Aurelia replied, with a smile that hid her regret. She glanced out of the viewport. 100 metres below, smoke still rose from the crash sites.
“So, how was your flight?” Sandria probed.
“How was my flight? This isn't like you, Sandria. I'd be annoyed if you started walking on eggshells around me.”
“Well, I suppose a bit of formality is appropriate,” Sandria said, raising her eyebrows.
“I think we're past that. Besides, I can't wait to meet my friends. They've had me on edge, knowing that reckless trio went to the enemy frontline… without even inviting me,” Aurelia grumbled, puffing out her cheeks in a pout.
“I thought you were the sensible one, right up until that last sentence…” Sandria replied with an exhale.
“Fufu, I'm a young blood and a Stellius mage of Aries, after all. I guess I can't truly change who I am, despite how much I try,” Aurelia admitted. “But I am trying to be better!” she added, raising her two fists.
“Good.”
For the past ten minutes of their walk, Sandria had fallen into a robotic rhythm, summarising everything that led to the Yamamoto's arrival and the eventual capture of the Santose V.
“And then… Zetius… umm…” Sandria’s words faltered. She suddenly found it hard to describe the state he was in when they stormed the Santose V’s deck.
She recalled the image of a lonesome man sitting next to the corpse of his rival, bathed in dried blood.
He hadn't spoken since.
A touch on her wrist pulled Sandria back to reality. “What’s wrong with him?” Aurelia asked, her face etched with worry.
At that moment, a tall, imposing figure came into view. Her crimson curls were unmistakable. She was still wearing her crimson armour, though it was damaged.
“Aurelia,” Astrid greeted in her deep tone, giving a small wave.
“He is fine… physically,” Sandria eventually answered.
“Then why the long face?” Aurelia asked, looking at them both.
Astrid let out a hiss of air and shrugged. “It's really complicated. Friederich knows the full story, so he would be the best person to explain it all. Unfortunately, he's still out on a patrol, making sure the border is secure and all.”
“Patrolling? You mean to hunt down Master Ignius?” Aurelia gasped, cupping her hands over her mouth.
Astrid waved a hand dismissively. “It’s probably alright. They aren't going far, just a perimeter check, a scouting mission more like? I’m not sure. They barely tell me anything. Besides, a Celestius mage and that assassin lady are with him.” She stressed the last part, clearly disgruntled by the mention of Ziyue.
“That’s good, then,” Aurelia breathed, relieved. “And Zetius?”
“Yeah, nah… Well, you'd better see for yourself,” Astrid responded half-heartedly, motioning for the two of them to follow.
The door slid open, light filtering inward. Aurelia blinked a few times, her eyes adjusting to the dim interior.
The room resembled a small canteen, furnished with a sofa and a table. It seemed somebody had turned it into a makeshift break room.
Dark aura seemed to be concentrated on opposite sides of the chamber.
On the left, Lunarius Willhelm Mae Arden sat on a bench, hunched forward. His entire body was wrapped in bandages, and his jaw was perpetually clenched, grinding his molars.
The most unnerving feature, however, was his eyes, which burned with an unholy fire.
“The shades will forever be condemned to the deepest chasm of Tartarus… my path to Elysium is no more…” His mind wandered wildly. Rot and decay grasped at his heart — he could almost smell it.
“Your soul is mine…” The frigid voice crawled in his mind. Willhelm squeezed his eyes shut.
“Lunarius Willhelm?” Aurelia whispered in shock. “What happened to him?”
“According to the preliminary report, a former Celestius mage, Ignius, intervened to stop him. They clashed, bringing one of the battlecruisers down. We found him like this beside the wreckage, battered but far from death,” Sandria explained calmly, shaking her head.
“Let him be. I wouldn't dare speak to him at the moment,” Astrid suggested softly, exchanging a solemn nod with Sandria.
The Lunarius just sat there, staring into empty space. He clasped his hands together so tightly that his fingers were digging into his skin.
Repulsive. Disgusting.
Then, at the far end of the chamber, they found Zetius lying on the bench. One hand was resting on his forehead, while his other arm and a leg dangled off the side.
Aurelia almost couldn’t believe her eyes; her heart dropped to the ground. What in the world has happened to him?! Is he hurt somehow?!
“Ze… Zetius…?” She whispered, her voice uneven.
An eye fluttered open, its crimson pupil a void that seemed to absorb light. “Ah… Aurelia. You're here,” he drawled, his voice a low, gravelly rasp.
A dark shadow clung to him, consuming the warmth from the air.
“Zetius, are you alright…?” Aurelia questioned, her brows knitted in profound concern.
“Mm… I'm fine,” Zetius said, sitting up to face them. “Sandria, and Astrid too. Good.”
“What do you mean, ‘goo—’ ugh!” Astrid started to argue, but quickly bit her tongue.
The room fell into an awkward silence.
A few minutes passed, and none dared utter another word.
“Cubie is fine, too. She just needs to rest a lot,” Zetius spoke up, tapping his sternum. Cubie didn’t make a sound or reply, remaining dormant.
Aurelia studied the man before her. Sandria was right; he bore no fresh wounds. Yet the profound darkness clinging to him was a wound of a different kind.
“Was this grief for a fallen rival? Or something deeper, something hollow?” Her mind raced, but no clear answer surfaced, leaving only a chilling unease.
Well, at least he had changed into a casual shirt and trousers. “It couldn’t be too bad, right?” Aurelia tried to be optimistic like she used to, but this was not easy.
“Can I have a minute with him, please?” Aurelia asked them, begging even.
Astrid and Sandria nodded and willingly stepped away.
As the footsteps faded, Aurelia settled beside Zetius. Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy.
His silver hair shaded his upper face like a curtain.
A tremor ran through him. His lips trembled. A single tear escaped, tracing a path down his still, stone-like face.
Aurelia’s breath hitched. The Zetius she knew, the level-headed disciple, the warrior who faced down armies without a flicker of fear, had never shed a tear.
The image she held of him, carved in her memory, shattered into a thousand pieces.
All the titles and legends fell away, leaving only the man before her, raw and broken.
She didn't need the details of the battle, the words he couldn't speak.
The truth was in that single, silent tear.
“This was the price of war my father had always feared,” Aurelia thought, a deep sorrow settling in her heart.
A cost not measured in ships or territory, but in shattered pieces of the soul.
Her hand found his, her touch a quiet anchor in the storm of his grief.
She held it, offering the only comfort she could.
***
“The war was won, but my love had gone.”