Chapter Seventy-Eight: An Unexpected Glimpse into the Future

The Unnameable—
Or perhaps Chaos itself?
The Glorious One opened his eyes, an unprecedented sense of weakness seeping through his entire being.
He saw…
Death.
Not the death of an individual, but the death of many—no, the death of all, the death of the entire Hemtica.
And then…
Inevitably, he too died.
Or perhaps it was that the human mind could not withstand such an outcome, or that mortals simply could not pay so steep a price; in the instant he glimpsed that not-so-distant future, he understood the arrival of death.
Because…he had seen It.
That which no mortal shell should ever behold—the Unnameable.
Even its mere existence, that inconceivable madness, would infect everything nearby with chaos, just as the pioneers of legend, venturing from the shelter of order into the chaotic sea beyond the Wall of Eternal Night, lost all semblance of order visible to mortal eyes. Their beings, like ink stains, twisted and warped until, with despairing, hysterical screams, they became part of chaos itself—like a drop of water into the sea, a grain of sand into the desert, with not a trace left in the world that they had ever been human.
Its mere appearance—
And the whole of Hemtica became a dead city.
Whether the scions of glory born under its burden, the unfathomable Order of Light, or even those who had dedicated flesh and soul to blind, frenzied chaos—the Cult of Chaos and the Lords of Darkness alike—none could resist, none even had the chance to resist, when that Unnameable Greatness awakened. They became nothing but dust upon the pages of history.
Human wars? Human resistance? The value of human existence? Even the war between chaos and order?
To It—
—All of it, every bit, is meaningless.
It simply exists there, and by that existence alone, destroys all things, creates all things.
If Hemtica still remained, it was only because this Unnameable that emerged from the depths of chaos had not yet been enough to destroy the entire dominion of order.
Just what kind of beings were the Ancients? That they could fight such an enemy, defeat it, and seal it away?
Were they truly…human?
Had he not seen it with his own eyes, he would never have believed that the Hemtica in which he had lived nearly twenty years was, in truth, nothing more than a seal against that monster—the so-called Triple City, the so-called Wall of Sighs, were but the outermost of three chains, chains that bound It within Hemtica. Beneath all of Hemtica sprawled a sealing array beyond mortal imagination, beyond what mortals could even comprehend.
Its very existence was the incarnation of the word “inconceivable.”
The so-called alchemy and transmutation arrays of the Ancient Kings' era were but wriggling larvae before it; only by truly opening that door, reaching the far side of truth, could one begin to glimpse the magnitude of this miracle, to understand even a fraction of its principles.
Yet even so, even while bound, when that Unnameable Chaos took form within order, everything in Hemtica met its end.
—What caught the boy’s attention, just a little,
He did not see Yulia’s death… nor his own.

So then… there was still a chance of survival?
“How could that be,” It was not despair—Amy Ulysses was merely stating a fact, a fact so bleak as to be despair itself. “That kind of monster…”
So—
That future is absolutely, absolutely, intolerable!
The boy clenched his fists. He didn’t know how it had happened, nor whether there was still time to stop it now, but as long as he refused to bow to fate, there was no other path open before him.
To the Upper City!
To snuff out everything while it’s still in the cradle!
The blaze in his eyes gradually faded. The Glorious One had no intention of yielding like this; even before his fainting spell, he had confirmed that the short sword Dark Blood, forged by the Ancients to cut through blind, frenzied chaos, was far from as plain and simple as it appeared. When activated with Ulysses’ blood, the power of order within it was enough to cut through the Wall of Sighs that separated the Upper and Lower Cities.
Then…
He would find Franks, and—Duke Galsworthy.
Though he still harbored doubts about Duke’s attitude toward Ulysses, this was no time for pride. Neither he nor anyone in Hemtica could afford to shrink away; if that Unnameable was awakened, the only fate awaiting them all would be death.
In a sense, they were all grasshoppers bound to the same straw, struggling not to drown.
The Glorious One sat up in bed, working the stiffness out of his body. Having once experienced a deathlike slumber before, this rusty numbness was not unfamiliar—clearly, he had been unconscious for quite some time this time as well—wait! Who had changed him into these pajamas?
The thought came sluggishly.
Could it have been Mia?
He imagined Mia’s calm face as she changed his clothes, and Amy couldn’t help but shudder.
But in the next moment, the answer presented itself.
“So you really survived, huh.” The door creaked open, and before the boy stood a young woman with long brown hair, wearing a white coat. She was studying him up and down with those intelligent black eyes, nodding as she commented, “Looks like the Glorious One’s vitality is truly astonishing—yes, just like a cockroach.”
“Who are you?” Though being likened to a cockroach was annoying, Amy knew what mattered most at the moment was not his pride, but understanding the situation.
“Samantha.” The stranger offered her hand, her fine features breaking into a bright smile that showed six teeth. “As you see, I’m a doctor.”
“Amy Ulysses,” the boy replied politely.
“I know, Glorious One.” She gave a light laugh, unfazed by his exalted title. “Thanks to you, I haven’t slept a wink these past three days.”
“Sorry,” sensing her friendliness, Amy let down his guard a little, “I’m not very clear on what’s happened. Could you explain?”
“In short,” Samantha sighed, “someone asked me to look after you.”
“Mia?” he asked.
“That’s right, the Lady Swordbearer.” The brown-haired, black-eyed woman added the honorific, “She said you would come back to life after dying—I figured I’d trust her, and you really did survive.”
You never believed it at all, did you?
The Glorious One grumbled inwardly, but didn’t show it. He simply asked, “Where is she now?”

“She’s in the living room. My place is small, and you took the only bed, so the Swordbearer and I had to sleep on the floor,” Samantha complained, not without humor.
“My deepest apologies,” Amy said earnestly. “Sorry to trouble you these past days.”
“It’s fine,” she waved it off with great magnanimity. “It’s my honor to fulfill the Swordbearer’s request.”
Such obvious favoritism left the Glorious One with nothing to do but nod in understanding. He and this mature, beautiful woman had little in common; after a few words, he left the bedroom in his fluffy pajamas and met the girl in the modest twenty-square-meter living room.
“You’re awake.” Mia was as reticent as ever.
“Yes. Thank you.” Amy, long used to the Swordbearer’s coldness, didn’t dwell on it. After a pause to gather his thoughts, he spoke. “Listen—this may sound unbelievable, but I’ve received a revelation. A true revelation.”
“Oh?” The girl raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t know if it was a revelation, but nothing else could explain it.” Her skepticism was natural, but after already demonstrating the ability to return from the dead, claiming the power to see the future seemed even less believable. “Because I saw it. I saw—”
He paused:
“—the doom of Hemtica.”
“!” A clear shock flickered in the girl’s emerald eyes.
“I know it sounds absurd, but all of it really happened to me,” the boy recounted as calmly as he could. “Beneath Hemtica, the Ancients built a great seal. There, a nameless beast of chaotic evil is imprisoned. In the not-too-distant future, for reasons unknown, the seal weakens, and that dreadful being, once fought by the Ancients, breaks free. In just an instant, the whole of Hemtica becomes a dead city.”
“Sounds like a myth,” the doctor shrugged from the side.
But Mia, after a slight nod, answered:
“I believe you.”
So simple a phrase, and all the Glorious One’s thousand arguments caught in his throat. After a moment’s silence, Amy Ulysses replied:
“Time is precious—” He gathered his gear. “Let’s go now.”
But after only a few steps, he realized something was amiss, stopped awkwardly, and turned to the Swordbearer with a strained smile. “Sorry… I’ll need a moment, I should go change first.”
Loose pajamas were hardly suitable for battle.
A snicker sounded from the doctor—so stark a contrast to Mia’s coldness. The woman, as ripe as a peach and almost dripping with maturity, laughed without restraint.
Amy pretended not to notice.
After changing, the Glorious One pressed his lips together, saying nothing, and quietly pushed open the door to the outside world.
Immediately—
The lingering mists swept in like a tide.
It was time to say farewell to the Lower City.
Narrowing his eyes, the boy strode forward.