The Exalt Cultivation Fantasy

Act 3: Empire's Stand - Chapter 582: Victory?

"Fred! Emily!" Oscar shouted, his voice hoarse and shrill. "Where are you?!" No one replied. A pile of rubble cluttered down, and he only found more fallen Black Aegis Order members. He paid his respects to each one, taking away their tokens. He sought to find them in this bloody hellscape, but his heart sank, fearing the worst, with no replies and no other sounds to be heard through his dull ears. Each new body only cast him deeper into despair. How could the others have survived with so much death around him?

"Fred! Emily!" Oscar coughed, resting his head on Erden, who walked silently beside him. Sometimes, he found very mutilated bodies that could not be identified by appearance. Oscar gritted his teeth, grimacing as he seized their tokens, half-relieved that it wasn't Fred and Emily and half-devastated that someone under his command had died. The losses now stood at twenty-eight dead, almost all of his Black Aegis Order. Mindlessly, he wandered further ahead, the cloth of his pants sticking to his skin, glued by blood. His legs felt heavier from how much of the precious lifeblood soaked them.

"Os…." Someone called out, and his ears perked up.

Only one person in the entire world of Talos called him that. It was Fred. He was alive! Oscar sighed in relief, a weight lifted from his heart. He whipped his head around and turned to the source, elated to see Fred, but a cloud of dust obscured his friend from sight, but he knew it came from that direction. Excited, he splashed across the pool of blood, a smile gracing his lips after all the horrors and losses he had suffered. Fred called out his nickname again, and it spurred him faster, ignoring the agony his body internally screamed out against.

"Fred! Emily!" Oscar saw two faint shadows. He knew from his heart that they were Fred and Emily. But his heart sank deeper than before, and he plopped to his knees, incoherently letting out heartwrenching sobs, reaching out his hands as he walked on his knees. Tears leaked from his eyes, rolling down his cheeks and dripping to the blood below. Why? Why? He repeated to himself. His wide eyes saw Fred and Emily.

Resting on Fred's lap, Emily breathed weakly like a sandy bagpipe, sometimes splurting out blood. Her orange eyes, somehow remaining clear, glanced at Oscar, and a slight grin rose, seemingly glad to see him now. Oscar rested his hand on Emily's forehead, unintentionally smearing the blood of the fallen on her. He moved his gaze downward and sobbed, shaking his head. Her entire lower body was missing, a strung trail of organs leading somewhere else in the dust. It was too late for her.

"VICTORY! VICTORY! VICTORY! VICTORY! VICTORY!" A shout came from above, but Oscar barely heard it, not even acknowledging it, all of his attention resting on Fred and Emily. Her grievous wounds led only to death. There was no helping her. There was no stopping death.

Fred lowered his head and held Emily higher, kissing her. The orange gaze met the green stare. Fred hugged her to his chest and said soothingly, "Emily. We had our differences. You and I always argued, and there were moments when we abandoned each other and failed each other, but I never stopped loving you." His hand caressed her cheek, and she smiled, tears falling from her closing eyes. Her life visibly faded before their eyes, and before the last flickers faded away, Fred thanked her, "Emily. Thank you for giving me a future. Thank you for everything. You made my life worth living."

Emily went limp, her head leaning back like a puppet that had its strings cut. Her chest no longer heaved up and down. Fred laid her back on his lap, resting his head on the stone wall behind him. Oscar was speechless. Emily was dead. The lively girl he met who had an attitude but cared the most for her companions, his friend for many years, was dead.

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"Fred…." Oscar turned to Fred and noticed the gaping holes in his friend's stomach, an arm and two legs missing, and an absurd amount of blood painting the stone wall red. Reaching out, he held Fred's shoulders and choked on his tears, failing to muster the words to speak. He couldn't speak. His voice left him. Why now, of all times, did his voice have to abandon him? He turned to Erden and remembered another way to communicate.

"Fred. What happened?" Oscar spoke through Erden's lips. "Emily. She's dead."

"I'm…glad to see you alive, Os. I'm happy one of us is still alive." Fred laughed, his eyes not betraying the delight he expressed, gleaming like green stars. "It's good. As long as you're still alive."

"THE ENEMY HAS FLED! ALL FORCES HAVE RETREATED. WE HAVE HELD THE CITY! THE CITY IS SECURE!" The shout said to rising cheers and applause.

"Fred. What happened?" Oscar asked again.

"When Orden–" Fred gasped, struggling to breathe. "When Orden took you. We fought. Gavir took over as leader, and we mounted our defense against the enemy. They came in small numbers, but the longer we fought, the more they swarmed us. One by one, we retreated deeper toward the Imperial Palace." His body quivered, his rushed breathing unable to calm, but he still spoke. "The barriers went down, and hell broke loose."

"Fred. Don't talk anymore. I can save you." Oscar said. His mute body rummaged in the space pocket until he found another healing elixir. He placed it before Fred's lips and titled the vial to feed him. However, the wounds did not heal. Unable to accept it, he wanted to try again, but Fred stopped his arm. "You can't die, Fred. I won't let you."

"Can't heal these wounds, Os. Can't heal what is already dead." Fred coughed, his eyes fading between dim and bright, dull and clear. Certainly, he was wavering between life and death, closing his touch on reality. He clasped Oscar's shoulder, a cold palm that showed no vitality, no flame of life burning in him. "You already saved me. You and Emily. Being your friend and brother. It has been my honor and pleasure."

"Don't speak like that. Don't speak like that." Oscar hugged his brother. "We were supposed to retire. You and Emily were supposed to meet Avril. Come on! You said you'd reveal all of my embarrassing past to her!" He shook Fred, trying desperately to ignite a will to live, but only Fred's blood covered him. Instead of a warmth rising, a chill delved deeper. The weakening heartbeats that thumped softly against his chest sounded like death's footsteps marching to claim his friend. He refused to let death take Fred and hugged him tighter.

"GILBERT HAS WON THE PRIMANOMACHY! THE WAR IS OVER! THE WAR IS OVER! GLORY TO THE EMPIRE!" The sky shouted.

"I'm sorry, Os. I can't accompany you any longer. Emily is already calling out to me. She calls me to join her." Fred bumped his forehead against Oscar's. "My leader. My friend. My brother. Live on for us. Live on and live happily enough for all of us. I will be watching you from beyond, or if there is a next life, I hope to meet you again." Fred pulled back, his green eyes welling up with tears that ran down his scarred face. The light escaped his pupils, and they started to dilate. His body fell forward back into Oscar's arms.

"THE PRIMAERE OF THE BLOODLANDS HAVE DECREED THIS WAR TO BE OUR VICTORY! THEY CANNOT CONTINUE THE WAR!"

"Fred….Fred…." Oscar shook him. Fred didn't respond. The cold, desolate feeling of a corpse rested in his arms.

'I'm Frederick Klein.' The memories flowed endlessly. He met Fred for the first time during the enrollment trial. They became dormmates and good friends. They teamed up with Emily, hunted the Night Raptor, and ran into trouble afterward. He helped Fred overcome his past and freed him from the Elire Manor. Fred was his friend, his brother. From Ashen Grove to now, they fought together and saved each other. The memories became too much for him to bear, and he cried.

Oscar cried, all of his sadness spilling out in his heartwrenching sobs.

"FARSKY CONTINENT IS OURS! TO THE GLORIOUS HEROES WHO FOUGHT BRAVELY IN THE WAR. WE ARE VICTORIOUS!"

The triumphant cheers in the skies drowned out his painful cry, which reached no one but himself. Light spread, breaking the storms, a clear blue expanse greeting the victors, and everyone shouted out their victory, yet only a lone wail remained in the scarlet wastes drenched in blood and clouded in dust, no one reaching out to him. Did they not care? Did they not see the blood crying out from the wreckage below?

Today, he lost everything. He could only cry out until his throat finally gave in, and blood trailed down his cheeks from his eyes. There was no victory for him.