Grey ripped his saber out, still holding onto Terran’s hair. Then he swiped it across again, severing his head from his shoulders.
Without another word, he began to trudge away.
Ovaal’s body looked like it had been completely drained of its blood, even the old knight himself looked exactly the same. Despite his words from earlier, Edmun could feel his knees weaken as though they wanted him to fall.
Terran had been basically banished from his family, they certainly didn’t give a damn about him. What they did care about, though, was their face, their family name, the crest of the Valdi family.
They cared so little for Terran that he wasn’t even allowed to use that name. Most people called him Sir Terran, more often, Captain Terran, because unlike the other knights, he had no last name that he could use in the first place.
But his father had sent him here to atone, to grow, to maybe one day earn their name once more. After Terran’s crimes, the fact he could live at all was a testament to just how much his family valued their face. Any commoner or even a lesser noble would have been slain tens of times over.
For something like this, wiping out the city would be a small price in their eyes. They might even raze the land completely just to be sure no one survived to speak of this day.
The only chance they had, the only chance they had...
Ovaal took a step toward where Grey’s back was disappearing, but before he could make it far, Edmun’s hand landed on his shoulder.
The Holy Knight was slow to react, almost as though his entire body was locked into its own quagmire. He turned his head to the hand on his shoulder.
"You’re going to stop me?" Ovaal said. "You know—."
"You know," Edmun interrupted, "that killing him will just make the massacre a little less cruel. It will still happen. It will still wipe out the entire city, and take all of us with it."
"All the more reason I should kill him to vent my last frustrations."
"You’re already an old man. Having a temper tantrum is beneath you."
Ovaal’s eyes flashed with fury and he seemed to break out of his slow quagmire.
"EDMUN TROLLEY."
"That is, indeed, my name." Edmun said calmly.
Ovaal ground his teeth. "Your disciple is a Dark Kin."
"What difference does it make if we’re all going to die anyway? Sounds to me like this Duke Valdi is the true Dark Kin."
Ovaal froze, his entire body going stiff before he began to laugh a bitter laugh. His laughter grew until the point it almost sounded manic.
He had grown to this point over years of arduous work, and now it was all gone because of a child who appeared a couple of days ago.
"All hope is not lost." Edmun said after Ovaal’s laughter petered out.
Ovaal sneered. "Even if Bishop Calixan entered the Command Class, the Duke is a Dominus."
"Dominus Class or not, a Duke cannot arbitrarily clear house of a Command Class’ Church whenever he so feels like it. There are ways past this."
"A Command Class is not enough. A Church is formed of the pillar of Priest and Holy Knight. A High Tier Holy Knight—." Ovaal’s pupils constricted. "—You..."
Edmun chuckled. "I may be old, but I’m not addled. Two days ago Grey could not last a single exchange with me. Today, I fear he may be able to nick me a time or two."
"He is a Dark Kin."
"He is your last hope of keeping your head on your shoulders. So smile, nod, pretend you didn’t see anything, and spend the last of your days fucking your wife just in case."
"And what are we meant to do, exactly?"
A voice made Edmun stiffen.
Baroness Auma appeared by his side at an unknown time. She had watched everything unfold from afar, and had somehow chosen this very convenient time to appear.
"We...?" Edmun asked.
"Yes. We." She said with a smile.
Edmun cleared his throat. "I have to refine my disciple’s training plan."
He made a move to leave, but this time, it was Ovaal who caught him. There was no amusement in his eyes at all.
"There is no time for a training plan, Edmun. Go and get your disciple. If there’s any chance of survival, he will have to do this now. Right now."
And therein lay the real problem.
Ovaal wasn’t a fool. He knew the rules of the Church. But there were too many problems with this, the first and foremost of which being the fact the Valdi likely already knew that Terran had died. Their methods were beyond the understanding of a small city like this one.
They would at most take the time to find out exactly how Terran died, and they wouldn’t do that by asking questions.
How long would they have? A few days at most before there was a judgment?
The worst part of all of this was the fact Grey was clearly most powerful as a Dark Kin, the one thing he could not use in the Holy Knight Trials.
How would he recover in time and be strong enough to reach the level he would need to?
And even then, it wasn’t like this was a magic bullet. If it was engraved into the rules, maybe Ovaal would have thought of it already. At most this was speculation and hope in Her Holiness’ blessings.
What chance did they have?
**
Grey stopped in front of two tombstones, a head in hand. His breathing was still labored, his body somehow both fat and gaunt at the same time.
He knew he was on his last legs. He had done everything he could to make it here.
Slowly, he opened his mouth to say a few words, maybe that he had succeeded, that he had done as he promised, but he barely managed to part his lips.
As though that took the last of his energy, he crashed into the earth, Terran’s head tumbling out of his hand and rolling to a stop in front of the two tombs.
His chat was going crazy.