In the west of the continent—the Holy Theocracy.
The mid-afternoon streets were bustling with their usual energy.
Pilgrims.
Merchants.
Priests.
Everyone was passing a peaceful day.
At least, that was how it should have been.
"...Hm?"
One of the gatekeepers looked up at the sky.
Far off, beyond the horizon, something gray was flickering.
He thought it was smoke.
He thought it was a sandstorm.
But he was wrong.
They were people.
Dozens. Hundreds. A group shrouded in gray cloaks was silently marching toward the city.
It was bizarre, yet he felt no immediate sense of wrongness. Perhaps because he was a gatekeeper, he felt he wouldn't truly know who they were until they arrived and he questioned them.
And perhaps because not a single person spoke, not a sound could be heard. Not even the sound of footsteps.
It was like a procession of the dead.
"...H-Halt!" the gatekeeper shouted, as if suddenly remembering his duty. "Identify yourselves!"
The man at the front raised his head. From deep within the shadows of his hood, his eyes were as cold as a corpse’s.
"We are the Ash Necros."
The low voice alone made the air freeze.
The gatekeeper’s face turned pale. There was no one in this country who did not know that name. They were an unidentified organization operating in the shadows of every nation. They destroyed cities and erased nobles—an organization governed by monsters capable of shaking the foundations of a state.
"Raise the alarm!" the gatekeeper screamed.
But it was too late.
The man in the gray cloak silently raised his hand.
In the next instant, a roar erupted. The massive Castle Gate of the Holy Theocracy was blown apart.
Screams rose. Citizens fled in all directions as stalls collapsed. Chaos spread in the blink of an eye.
"Begin," the man stated flatly.
The Ash Necros began to move. The Cleric Knight Order rushed to intercept them, and mages began their incantations.
However, they could not be pushed back. They were strong—far too strong. Each individual was like a walking disaster. The Cleric Knights fell before their swords could even reach their targets. The mages' spell formulas were shattered.
The flames of war rose throughout the city.
Inside the Central Grand Temple of the Holy Theocracy, the priests summoned for the emergency assembly were visibly panicked.
"Where are the Hero Candidates?!"
"The Bishop set out for the Land of Trials a short while ago!"
"They cannot return yet!"
"They are all absent!"
It was the worst possible situation. Of all times, it had to be now. The majority of the Theocracy's strongest forces were away participating in the Trial.
The Ash Necros had appeared with timing that suggested they knew exactly what they were doing.
◇◆◇
Seven years ago, my master bestowed the title of Fifth Seat of the Ash Necros upon me.
"Find it, and be quick about it. There is no doubt it is here."
Of the Ash Necros, only eight are permitted to possess a replica of an Original Tome.
One of them was stolen by someone... but in itself, that wouldn't be an issue. An Original Tome is not something just anyone can wield. For a Flame Original Tome, one needs conviction, faith—something irreplaceable that they refuse to yield, just like we and our master possess.
To steal an Original Tome is to force it to acknowledge you. The faith of one of our members was crushed by something within that person.
"It is the same as betraying the trust and mission given by our master."
The one who died was... who was it again?
I have no sympathy. He was a fool who was granted an Original Tome and yet failed his mission.
The Hero Candidates aren't in this country right now. I'll simply burn everything to the ground and take back what's left.
◇◆◇
"It’s been a long time since I’ve seen such a sight..."
Watching the smoke rising beyond the window, I murmured the words to the empty room. Lord Luka’s words had been proven right.
The Ash Necros have come. I have no idea what their goal is this time, nor do I have any intention of thinking about it.
Everyone started to break after Lord Luka disappeared. Lady Elysia grew more gaunt by the day, the life fading from her eyes. Lady Lene spends every day outside the castle walls searching for him.
...Lady Selena has closed off her heart. At first, she berated Lady Nana and me. She demanded to know how he could have gone missing when we were right beside him.
She was right, and I accepted that, but at the same time, it made me angry. What could have been done in that situation? Could you have done any better? Even Lady Nana didn't understand what happened...
"...I'm sorry."
This is Lord Luka’s room. I feel like he’s still here, like he’s still in this place. I don't care about the screams coming from outside or the echoing explosions.
As I slowly crawled into the bed, a nostalgic scent enveloped me. I am no different from the others; I am just a woman who loves Lord Luka and has been driven mad by it.
Lord Luka, I wonder what you would think of me like this...
No, it doesn't matter anymore. I want to surrender myself to this pleasure. I want to be held by Lord Luka and burn away just like this.
Yuka writhed as she lay there.
The Original Tome had heard and seen everything, and it had chosen her.
What its previous owner had desired was to burn the world to ashes. It was a tedious, empty wish.
She was different. Within her, there was always one person. For that person's sake—to obtain him—she would turn the world to ash without a second thought.
She viewed the previous owner's desire as a mere milestone, a means to an end. Was this love? The Original Tome found itself enthralled by that dark entity—an obsession it had never witnessed or felt before.