Page Seventy
The Ancient Kingdom
Before I mention this kingdom, why did I say the war had begun now?
The arrival of the rulers was not ordinary — it was the spark that ignited dormant fires and melted snows that had hidden what should not be seen.
I had never seen a ruler, but as soon as I heard what people around me said about them, I understood their terror and why their appearance became an unforgettable tragedy. When you put all your hope in someone and ask for their aid, only to find their hand pierces your chest and tears your heart, you do not feel the pain of the wound, but the pain of your soul and betrayal.
Every moment I spent changed a significant part of me. Moments where I could do nothing but remain silent. I accepted the bitter truth: the world had withered, and what remained was the remnants of a once-magical land ruined by this war.
Val-Mirath was destroyed horrifically, torn apart by the clash of two great forces that shook the continent and proved to the rulers that shields and supplies alone were not enough for protection.
This caused silence and observation to flee, while support took action. Perhaps the Ancient Kingdom is the most prominent example. It had suffered internal conflicts until a great revolution occurred within the same family — a revolution led by the son against the father, the mad ruler. This was the act of Eldran II, and because of his father's actions, he left the war and tried to restore his kingdom.
The king who sought to restore his kingdom assembled a battalion of royal knights: seven knights who were essentially the foundation to rebalance power. They were led by an old knight, far beyond the natural human age — Eldovar, who was 180 years old. Though he had surpassed natural limits, he had reached a level known as the greatest knight in the kingdom.
I do not know much about the history of the Ancient Kingdom. I never delved into it, or perhaps the war made me forget that there were other kingdoms.
Page Seventy-One
Eldran II sent his seven knights and their soldiers. None remained to protect him, and if the knights were defeated, the Ancient Kingdom would fall immediately.
At the same time, the third son, Kagetsu, who had not yet reached adulthood, was appointed heir and sent to the war. Of all the sons, the third was the most mysterious; no one knew anything about him until he participated in the war.
I do not need to describe him more than that he became the second person to bear the title "Heart-Eater." It is said that when he wielded his katana, a single strike could cut down ten monsters. Perhaps I exaggerate, but in this war, we expected everything.
When Heart-Eater arrived and joined the seven knights, the scales became balanced.
Page Seventy-Two
The reason I explain all of this is because mentioning it leads to one event: the end of the war.
How did the war end?
The war did not end with the victory of any of the three sides — humans, monsters, or rulers. Each side lost nearly half. Humans lost four kingdoms; Eldran II, the king of the Ancient Kingdom, was killed along with his son and heir, Rithor. His grandson, Eldran III, inherited the rule. From the Kagetsu Empire, the Kagetsu family was wiped out — a brutal annihilation that embodied the utmost betrayal. No one survived: no children, no women, no youths.
Five of the rulers were killed, which alone was miraculous. But these losses were not the cause of the war's end.
January third, the beginning of the new year — the moment of collapse.
A night of battle occurred, with no one knowing the victor.
The Bloodthirsty Ruler and Heart-Eater — this battle ended the war. Two of the most brutal fighters faced off for five days. Because of this battle, the land of war, after its conclusion, was no longer livable.
After five days, the battle ended. Heart-Eater split the Bloodthirsty Ruler's chest. The ruler screamed in pain, laughed at the same time, and the place exploded. No one found their bodies. It can be said the battle ended in a draw. It is said that the spirit of the Bloodthirsty Ruler still roams this land.
Page Seventy-Three
Twenty years after my deployment to this hell, the war ended. I felt mixed, conflicting emotions. How could I believe that something I thought would last centuries, fought over by the descendants of my descendants, had ended? Am I lucky? That was my question, and the answer came swiftly.
Even though the war ended, its traces remained. Its lands died, leaving nothing but ash. Any attempt to plant or rehabilitate the land would be futile, for its foundation was destroyed.
I returned home and met my family, who welcomed me as a hero, victorious from the war. That was their perspective of me. But I knew well that I had done nothing; I had only wandered, trying to survive. I would not oppose their view.
After a long period — five years — a friendship grew between Commander Ryota and me. This friendship made me write and publish this book, following Ryota's advice to document what happened to me during the war.
Ten years later
As I write now, I feel sadness — a strange emotion that makes me want to cry. The abyss of loneliness — I feel as if I am in a silent world, echoing the voices of those I loved.
I was left alone. After my father died and my mother followed, I felt that everything would change. I was not mistaken: from that day, I lost my most important goal — to stay by their side.
Page Seventy-Four (Final Page)
After feeling sorrow for several days, the illusions returned. I would see white-skinned monsters with no hands and symmetrical eyes, staring at me intensely. They did not approach; they only stared with their black eyes.
I am not afraid of monsters as I was before. Fear comes when you realize you will die without seeing those you love, or you fear failing to protect those you try to save. I have no one. I knew it was an illusion, and no matter the pain I felt, there is no one to whom I can complain. Even if I scream, no one will save me. Truly, I feel emptiness and solitude.
Three years later
In moments, everything began to vanish, as if it had never existed. I remained confined to my house, growing old. Unlike other elders, no one cared about my health. My correspondence with Ryota ceased.
Amid all this, I stopped crying and continued to think. I spent these three years writing this book you now read. I cannot express my grief, rage, loneliness, and pain endured during this war.
I want to say that no one could now ease the torment I had suffered. No matter how much I wrote, no matter how many pages I filled with my dry ink, I could only describe a drop from the ocean of this war. One cannot survive such an ordeal without losing something inside. I lost the moment when I could feel like a normal human.
I apologize for not recounting all the details of the war. This book is my story, showing the war from my perspective. If you wish to know more details and I have disappointed you, read other historians' accounts. In the end, I hate this life and I hate this cursed world.
"Farewell, the writer Hisamori."
After this, he closed the book tightly. Quickly, Sumiaro read the book, hoping to learn more about the Hundred Years' War. He felt only disappointment and that he had wasted his time. Sumiaro, standing to leave the library, said:
"Two weeks after publishing the book, the historian died. I thought it had something to do with his book, but it turns out the book's fame was only because of its similarity to modern novels. Nothing more. It was a waste of time."
End of Chapter