Chapter 89

The Opening ~The Day of Revolution~
On that day, the people of Fractalia were offering their prayers.

Ever since that fateful day, the people of Fractalia had been praying on this day every month.

Their monthly prayers were to ensure they never forgot their righteous indignation, to repent for the one they could not save, and to plead for the salvation of their nation.

Since that day, the Fractalia Kingdom had drastically changed its appearance. It had become uglier, filthier.

… Today, soldiers from Baltoria were being sent into Fractalia.

Baltoria had finally begun moving without restraint to take control of Fractalia’s power. The king’s retainers had desperately tried to stop them, but… it seemed their efforts had reached their limit.

And that was why there was no longer any choice but war.

A nation that irresponsibly preached peace would ultimately meet its end as a defeated country. Fractalia was on the verge of destruction. It was being rotted away from within, and once it had decayed enough, the final invasion would begin in earnest.

The people would either be enslaved or massacred. Of course, thinking they would simply be allowed to die was nothing more than a convenient delusion. Everything they held dear would be trampled. Their history, their culture, their lives, even their dignity—everything would be erased.

And when that time came, the banner of peace would be utterly useless. Cyril Eregian, who had once fought on the front lines against Baltoria, understood this well.

… That was why they had no choice but to start the war here.

They couldn’t afford to wait until the inevitable, until all the preparations for the invasion were complete. They had to protect this country—Fractalia—together, just as Marylia had instructed.

“Baltoria is coming by ships. Their vigilance will be high. After all, we’ve already sunk several of their ships.”

Cyril raised his voice as he looked over his fellow knights—no, his fellow pirates.

… It was they, the pirates, who had literally been protecting Fractalia at the water’s edge. They had sunk Baltoria’s ships or forced them to take massive detours, buying precious time and minimizing the impact on Fractalia as much as possible.

“Don’t let your guard down. They no longer have any need for pretense.”

But that, too, would end today.

Until now, Baltoria had maintained appearances. They had sent their soldiers under the guise of merchant ship crews. They had made sure not to display any overt intent of invasion.

… But now that they were fully committing to the invasion, they would discard all pretense. And once they did, there would be no one left in Fractalia to protest—they would simply be crushed.

“That’s why we’ll whittle them down here! The king’s death doesn’t matter, but we must never let the country die!”

Today, those standing at the front lines were Cyril Eregian and the former knights who had become pirates. But they didn’t believe they could win against Baltoria, which surpassed them in both numbers and strength.

Their goal was to buy time.

Cyril and his men were prepared to cast their lives into the sea—if only to buy some time.

“All for Lady Marylia!”

Following Cyril’s shout, the voices of his men rang out in unison—"For Lady Marylia!"

The “Saintess Marylia” was now the symbol of their nation’s salvation. Thinking of her, praying to her, the people… and even the pirates gathered here, had all found the strength to carry on.

They had not abandoned their country because Marylia was there. They could still find the resolve to fight because Marylia was there.

… As autumn gave way to winter, today marked exactly one and a half years since the day “Saintess Marylia” had been exiled to an island.

Time crept by. The pirates stood there, gripped by a slow-burning anxiety.

Every second stretched into eternity as they waited for Baltoria’s ships to appear beyond the sea.

… And then, it happened.

With a deep splash, the waves surged high.

“… What was that?”

“An earthquake?”

Then, from the distance, something could be heard.

… And before they could react, the sea trembled, and their ship lurched violently.

“Wha—whoa!? What the hell!?”

“The waves are rising, but there’s no wind! What’s happening!?”

“Damn it, is this one of Baltoria’s tricks!?”

The pirates were bewildered. They looked around, trying to grasp the situation as their ship rocked violently.

… And then—

“Wh-what is that…?”

What they saw was… an island.

… No.

“A… person!?”

A colossal human figure.

As the pirates stood in stunned silence, the massive figure moved—slowly, gently. As if it was being careful not to stir the sea too much.

… Ordinarily, the pirates should have been stricken with fear and fled immediately. But they didn’t. Because the giant’s movements were calm, composed… rational.

It did not attack them. On the contrary, it seemed to be deliberately avoiding causing harm. Though its movements alone were enough to generate massive waves.

“What in the world is this…?”

Cyril watched, not with fear, but with the feeling that he was witnessing something mystical. The ship swayed violently, but he could not take his eyes off the giant.

… And then—

“H-hey! Isn’t that… the island where Lady Marylia was sent!?”

“What!?”

Hearing the shout of his comrade, who was looking through a small telescope, Cyril instinctively shouted back.

He quickly pulled out his own telescope and peered through it.

And sure enough, now that he looked closely… the features of the island where Marylia had been exiled were faintly visible. Yes. Looking carefully, the protrusions on its back resembled mountains. Its arms seemed to be made of sandy beaches. Its head had a small forest… and atop it, there was something that looked like a tiny house.

"That is…"

A mix of disbelief and certainty welled up within them. Cyril and the pirates all stood speechless, staring at the giant before them.

… And then.

"La… Lady Marylia…"

He thought it was a dream.

Through the lens of his telescope, beyond the massive head of the giant, Cyril saw the figure of Marylia.

It was at that moment.

"Uwahhh! The ship—!"

As the giant took another step forward, the ship swayed violently. Tossed about by the raging sea, the vessel was helpless, drifting, and then tilting precariously.

Cyril suddenly felt a sensation of floating.

… Yes. He had been thrown overboard.

It was not difficult to imagine what would happen if one fell into such turbulent waters. The waves would swallow him, the currents would drag him down to the seabed, and he would never resurface—at least, not while still alive.

And so, Cyril resigned himself to death. Dying here, right before the battle against Baltoria, was agonizingly regretful, but… strangely, watching the giant march forward filled him with a sense of destiny.

… Perhaps he was meant to be a sacrifice to that giant. The thought crossed his mind, and yet, he found himself accepting it.

After all, they would be crushed by Baltoria's overwhelming army in a matter of hours. If death was inevitable, then perishing for the sake of this mystical giant seemed as good a fate as any.

But that was not how it ended.

"Oh my… I was wondering who it was."

A familiar voice roused Cyril from his daze. Lying on his back, he looked up.

Kind eyes gazed down at him, golden hair—now shorter—swayed gently in the wind.

A modest yet elegant dress and a simple yet beautiful gemstone necklace only served to accentuate her refined presence.

"Oh, I'm so glad. You know, Cyril, I nearly let you fall into the sea. My apologies."

He thought it was a dream.

But at the same time, he knew it wasn't. It was a contradiction, and yet… deep down, he had always believed, with unwavering certainty, that this dreamlike moment would one day come to pass!

"But I'm glad you seem well. Ehehe."

The soft, bell-like laughter that escaped her lips left Cyril Eregian utterly speechless, as if his throat had closed up.

And yet… somehow, he forced out the words.

"… Lady Marylia…!"

At the sound of her name, Marylia beamed, answering with a cheerful "Yes~?" Her smile was as gentle as that of a benevolent goddess, and at last, Cyril could hold back his tears no longer.

A short while later.

Atop the head of the "Island Golem," the mysterious giant that Marylia had created, Cyril conveyed all the information he could.

The current state of Fractalia. The strange soldiers of Baltoria. That today was the day of war—everything.

"I see. The situation is worse than I thought. Though, truth be told, I had already suspected that Baltoria had found a means to conduct large-scale necromancy…"

To Cyril’s shock, Marylia already knew of Baltoria’s peculiar soldiers. More than that, she effortlessly deduced, "Ah, it's probably necromancy," as if it were the most natural conclusion! Even though she had supposedly been trapped on an island all this time!

Marylia was as astute as ever. Cyril’s respect for her deepened further… and at the same time, he felt nothing but guilt.

"I am so sorry, Lady Marylia! We… we were commanded to wait, and yet, we failed to protect Fractalia… our homeland!"

Marylia had returned. She had fulfilled her promise.

And yet, they had let Fractalia fall to ruin, far beyond the point of no return.

What else could he call this but a failure? Overwhelmed with shame, Cyril averted his gaze. He felt unworthy to even look upon her.

But then.

"But I made it in time."

Marylia gently cupped Cyril’s face with both hands, turning him to face her. Looking him in the eyes, she smiled.

"It's all right. We'll turn this around. After all, this is the homeland you all protected for so long. I won't let it go to waste~"

… That’s right.

No matter how powerless they had been, no matter how they had failed—this Saintess, Marylia, remained the same. Overflowing with kindness, bringing salvation to them all!

"We’ll end this battle… and when it's all over, let's have a grand celebration on the second floor of our usual tavern. Ehehe. Did you know? I actually quite enjoy watching you all revel and make merry."

"Lady Marylia…!"

As Cyril was overcome with emotion once more, tears streaming down his face, she laughed. "Oh dear," she chuckled, her smile nothing short of divine.

At the same time, the soldiers who had been standing beside Marylia moved closer to Cyril. They helped him to his feet, patting his back and grasping his hands in encouragement.

It was the gesture of warriors rallying together for battle. Cyril, bolstered by their support, regained his resolve. … And yet, he couldn’t help but wonder, "Wait… these soldiers… could they be golems…?"

"But first, we’re going to sink all those ships. Eheh. Let's do this~"

And in that moment, Marylia’s eyes—though still adorned with a gentle smile—were razor-sharp.

Her gaze was locked onto the fleet of ships approaching from across the sea.

The soldiers of Baltoria had arrived.

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