After everyone assembled at headquarters, Liebe called for reports.
"Vah Meadow, Helm, and Beto are secured," Licht reported."Virge is safe as well," Lara added."Alrod is clear," David said."Iren and Dorem are holding," Stal confirmed."Almor and Silvolt are stable," Eldrie replied."Sefirot and our base are secure," Gelda finished.
"Looks like the base suffered only minor damage," someone said.
Alysa stepped forward, voice shaking. "I want to apologize. Seven people died at Helm and Beto. Without Licht, casualties would have been far higher. It's because of our deployment that they were lost." Her eyes dropped. "I'm sorry."
Everyone looked solemn. Despite most areas surviving, those families had lost loved ones.
"You did your best," Licht said quietly. "The enemy sent a force far stronger than expected. Your backs were against the wall.""It was your fourth or fifth mission today — don't beat yourself up," Lara added.
Liebe folded his hands. "What happened today is not your fault," he said. "But to the victims' families, it is a loss that can never be undone." He paused, the weight of command settling on him. "As punishment, three days of house arrest to reflect on your mistakes."
"That's harsh—" Stal began, but Licht interjected. "Forgive them. They did well."
Eldrie shook his head. "I must disagree, my lord. Decisions require discipline."
Gelda spoke plainly. "Even though Elizabeth is my daughter, I agree with Lord Liebe. Three days is appropriate."
Liebe sighed. "Since this is your first serious mistake, I'll be lenient." He turned to Alysa. "Three days — do mine and Samin's homework. After that, do Licht's. Then start making notes from the books. Understood?"
Alysa swallowed. "Yes, sir."
"And Elizabeth," Liebe continued, "study theory. When you rejoin us, I want you almost at our level. Gelda — ensure they stay home and are thoroughly equipped so they can help in theoretical exams."
"Understood, Lord," Gelda said.
Licht smirked. "Studying with Gelda? Somehow that sounds worse than house arrest.""See you in my office," Gelda warned."Noooo!" Elizabeth protested."It's gruesome," Alysa whimpered.
"By the time I'm done with you two, you'll see hell and back," Gelda promised. "You won't sleep, and you'll rise again a dozen times.""Well, that sounds… interesting," Lara muttered.
Stal grinned. "Remind me never to ask the Lord for leniency."
Atonement
Later, in Liebe's office, Licht asked, "What do you want?"
"A list of names of every deceased," Liebe replied."Why?" Licht asked."I will face my mistakes," Liebe said. "As leader, it's my responsibility to atone on their behalf. I want names and addresses — the only way I can ask forgiveness properly is to face the families."
Licht's expression softened. "No wonder you sent Alysa and Elizabeth home."
The following morning, Liebe visited each bereaved household. At the first door, he knelt. "I'm sorry. This is my fault. I failed to assess the situation properly; my decisions caused this."
The widow's face crumpled. "Why him? Black Rose kept everyone safe — so why him? He loved us so much." Her daughter clung to her skirt. "Papa's in a better place," the little girl said, voice small.
Liebe saw himself reflected in that child — the memory of when he was seven and lost Tenebris rose in his chest. He could not meet the mother's eyes. "I'm sorry. I couldn't save him."
"Leave," the widow spat after a moment. "You don't belong here." Stones of anger and grief were hurled at him in other homes; some hurled insults, others turned away. Liebe apologized to all and promised financial aid.
"Money won't bring them back," one man shouted. "Why should we accept it?"
"I know," Liebe said softly. "But from now on, every month we'll send seventy-five cold coins to help. I know it doesn't bring him back, but it's what I can do."
Some families accepted the offer with quiet tears, some refused, and some struck him with words that stung. Liebe stayed with each of them until night, promising Black Rose would never repeat such mistakes.
When Liebe returned to HQ, his clothes were stained red — soaked from helping tend wounds and from the grim work of the day. The sight of him made everyone fall silent.
"Captain—what happened?" Lara asked, alarmed."Let me stitch your wounds," she urged.
"No," Liebe said simply, and walked into his office. Licht followed. Liebe sat heavily in his chair and exhaled long and low.
"I did my best to face the victims," he said. "It was foolish to think I could pick fights with every terrorist I found with no consequences. From now on, I must ensure no innocent dies."
"Sometimes people die for the many," Licht argued. "Tens can save millions."
"No," Liebe said, voice hard. "It's unacceptable to their families. I can't let them live with that. I can't allow that to be the cost we accept."
Licht reached for his friend. "Let me heal you."
"No," Liebe whispered. "Stop. This pain is a reminder — the blood of the innocent is on my hands. I cannot let it vanish so easily."
At 6:00 p.m., Liebe faced the press. "What happened yesterday was unacceptable," he said plainly. "Even if Black Wing and a Baledia general caused it, we will not allow such an incident to recur."
A reporter shot a question, sharp and unforgiving. "Sir, are you blaming everything on terrorist groups?"
"No," Liebe answered. "It's my fault. I realize that now. To ensure it never happens again, we are strengthening security."
Another reporter sneered, "You're a half-breed. You hold the rank of acting captain only because you're Lilith Faust's firstborn. Are you misusing authority to pursue terrorists without oversight? What do you say to those accusations?"
Liebe's reply was cold and final. "Bloodline and politics are irrelevant here. In Black Rose, we will not tolerate terrorism to any degree. Seven people died — that is my responsibility. We will ensure it never happens again."
"How long will you work to right this?" one more asked. "How many more must die?"
Liebe's voice hardened. "By dawn tomorrow, we will be done. We will ensure innocent people no longer suffer."
Watching from the side, Gelda felt the weight of remorse. She had hidden the truth from Alysa and Elizabeth; she would keep it from them a while longer.
That night, on the eastern border where the Baledian fleet had been stationed, Liebe flew above the dark sea. He hurled Albert's corpse from the sky. The body slammed into one of the ships with a thunderous crash; the impact and the burned message on the corpse — "One day and one night" — echoed across the water. The words were charred into the flesh: One day and one night, then there will be no fleet left to retreat.
No one could see who threw the corpse in the shadows, but Liebe watched what he needed to finish in twenty-four hours. The deadline was carved into his mind, and the price of failure was written in blood.