AN: Well, here's a Christmas special. On a side note, I got back into FGO, like, a day ago. I won't be doing any review responses this time round, as those will come when the next proper chapter is released. Hope you enjoy.

Warning: This chapter has not been read over and has been written in the time-span of one day.

"Speech" = Talking

"Thoughts" = Thinking

Part 1: Memories of the Sword Disciple.

~12 years ago.

"Hehe, Bell-nii, look at what I found." The chienthrope girl, Fina, tugged on Bell's sleeve as she pulled him towards a large field of flowers.

"Ooh! I wanna see as well!" The human boy, Rye, yelled as he chased them, "Come on, don't leave me!"

Fina stuck out her tongue at him and ran faster, dragging Bell along.

"Fina, don't be mean to Rye." Bell spoke, still smiling at the boy's form as he tried to chase after them, "It's not ni–"

He froze.

"Bell-nii?" Fina asked, confused as she tugged on his sleeve again.

"Fina. Take Rye and go back to the orphanage." He spoke, eyes never leaving the forest in the distance, "Now!"

"But–" The girl tried to protest.

"Go. Now." Bell spoke, voice low, "Take everyone else with you. Hide in the basement and don't come out until I tell you to. If someone knocks, don't open the door, no matter what."

"What are you going to do?"

"Go now! We don't have time!" Bell yelled at her.

Surprised, she backed away before running to Rye, grabbing him and continuing to run away.

Bell reached down to his sides with both hands and pulled out two swords.

One was almost completely black, only outlined by a few red streaks.

The other was pure white, outlined in blue.

Bell took a few deep breaths before speaking.

"Come out." He spoke solemnly.

The trees rustled as a large group of elves stepped out.

"Who are you?" He questioned. He never released his grip on his two swords.

"We are the resistance faction." The elf that appeared to be the leader spoke, "We wish to seek your assistance in fighting this war."

"And why should I choose to help you?" Bell questioned.

"Because if you don't…" The man leered, "Well, let's just say that we have connections in the orphanages around here…"

Bell glared at him before walking forward.

"Fine. What demands do you have?" He questioned.

I call upon the forge of Hephaestus.

"Well, how about…" The elf stopped to think, standing in a mocking position.

Forge of Blades.

"In return for sparing the lives of the orphans over there." He waved towards the direction behind Bell.

Metal rains from the sky.

"You help us win the war?"

Divine blades–

"And why do you want me in particular?"

"Because we know." The elf smiled, "We know all about you."

I release you from your forge.

"So, what about it?" He smiled, "You'd better think fast, or–"

The black blade flew through the air and pierced through his throat.

"Sword Zone."

Bell dashed forward.

"Are you crazy?!" Another elf shouted, "All they need is a signal and then your entire orphanage will burn down!"

Bell smiled a little bit as he killed another.

"Then…" He picked up an axe from the ground and threw it at the elf who had just spoke, "I just have to kill you all before you send the signal, don't I?"

–––

"Your majesty!" A messenger burst into the throne room, panting heavily, "The opposition faction has begun moving."

"What?!" The king rose from his throne, "What have they done?"

"They are," The messenger stopped to take a breath of air, "Surrounding an orphanage near the edge of the country. It is about a few miles away from the capital."

"An orphanage?" The king thought for a moment, before freezing, "You don't mean…"

"Yes." The messenger told him, "They appear to be after the Sword Disciple."

"The Sword Disciple…" The king paused to think, "General Lai."

"Yessir!"

"Gather 100 of your best cavalry troops and have them move out at once. Bring whoever is left on the scene here, to me. You!" He pointed at the messenger, "Go and direct them. Show them where they need to go."

"Understood!"

–––

The Sword Disciple was very famous within the elven nation, and his fame even spread to the amazonian lands of Telsyukara and the Adventurer's city, Orario.

It was said that since birth, the child had been able to split a tree in half with his blade.

When he was one, it was said that he could kill even larger animals without too much effort, using his twin blades.

It was said that when he was two, he had killed a drunk grown man who had tried to assault him.

It was said that when he was three, he had killed a raging demonic beast in the forest that belonged to the Lion clan.

It was said that when he was four, he was able to beat his trainer in one on one combat.

When he turned five, it was said that he had retreated to a mountain deep within the spirit glades and had received training from the Sword God, a legendary figure that was so mysterious that people were not sure if he was a god or a mortal. All that was known about it was that it was easily the best swordsman in the world, in terms of pure swordsmanship, at the very least.

Some of these feats were rumours, others may have been the truth. It was true that many years ago, a demonic boar had rampaged in the Lion clan's forest and killed many before being put down by a child. It was known that the Sword God had taken up a disciple, although no one knew who it was. But whether or not all of these actions were related to the Sword Disciple was unsure.

After that, the Sword Disciple's location was unknown, but from what both factions of the elves had been able to determine, he had retired from the public eye and was living in the countryside… taking care of a group of orphans.

–––

When the royal cavalry arrived at the scene, they bore witness to a fight.

No, it would not be fitting to call it a fight. A massacre may have been a better choice of words.

The rebelling elves could not fight back. Their enemy was fast. So fast, that it was difficult to track his movements, and as a result, nigh impossible to hit him.

Every time he moved, another elf would crumple down, dead.

They watched in awe as a single elf brought down an entire company of elves.

Once the last elf fell to the ground, dead, the commander felt a sword wrap itself around his neck.

"Why are you here?" Bell questioned, his red eyes seemingly glowing with a murderous light.

"W-we were sent– by the elven king–" The commander managed to cough out, "To bring whoever- was left on the scene- to the capital- to have an audience with his majesty."

Bell thought for a moment, before releasing the commander.

"Very well, then. I'll go with you."

–––

"Why, if it isn't the Sword Disciple in flesh." The elven king – Catos Ljos Alf – Smiled as he watched Bell walk in.

"The name is Bell Cranell, your majesty." Bell replied, kneeling.

"Rise." The elven king told him, "I brought you here today to request something from you."

"I am willing to fight for you." Bell replied pre-emptively.

"Thank goodness." The elven king cried out, ecstatic.

"But in return." Bell continued, "You will do all that is in your power to protect and care for the members of the orphanage I care for."

"To think the great Sword Disciple has fallen as low as to taking care of children…" Catos chuckled, "Very well, you have a deal."

"Then, from now on–"

"From this day on–"

"Bell Cranell, the Sword Disciple, will end this war."

"Catos Ljos Alf, the Elven King, will do all in his power to help the children of Maria's orphanage."

Bell turned around and began walking out of the throne room.

"Where are you going?" The king questioned, curious.

"I am doing what I promised to do," Bell replied without turning back.

"I am going to end this war."

Part 2: Memories of The White Death

It is commonly agreed that the turning point in the civil war was the Battle of the Red Hill.

It was not a large battle by any means, there were less than one thousand soldiers on each side.

What made it special was that the imperial army didn't suffer a single loss.

A survivor from the rebel army described it as thus: "It was as if swords had rained from the sky. Before we knew it, our leading commander had been killed, a sword was thrown straight at his face. After that, the army descended into chaos as the imperial army charged in, killing everyone in sight."

It was the first battle that the one who would soon be known as the White Death fought in.

–––

Although he fought in every battle, racked up a kill count higher than any other fighter in the army, Bell didn't enjoy war.

He enjoyed the art of swordplay, yes. He enjoyed fighting, to an extent.

But on a battlefield, one did not fight.

One had to kill.

That was the fundamental difference between the duelling grounds and the battlefield.

To fight on the duelling grounds, or in a dojo, was to be a swordsman.

To fight on a battlefield, in a war, was to be a killer.

–––

Because of how fast he had to kill people, Bell was forced to change his original sword style.

It used to be more designed towards single fights against strong enemies, but now, he had to adapt it to let him fight large hordes of significantly weaker opponents.

One thing he realised as he continued to fight on the battlefield was the sheer tenacity of some of the soldiers. You could cut off their arms, stab them through the heart, and yet, they would continue running at you and screaming until you cut off their heads.

Which is why Bell learnt to instead, attack them on a spiritual level.

By infusing his sword with his own natural energy, he was able to create cuts that, instead of physically damaging them, "phased" through their outer shell and attacked their spiritual core. In doing so, he was able to cut the very being of his enemies.

It was a very energy-intensive skill, perhaps even more so than using Sword Zone constantly.

But in return, it guaranteed the killing of his opponents.

Every time he killed another person, even if it was just for a moment, he could see their very existence.

Memories would flash through his head.

He once saw the person he had just killed sitting in a small cottage, rocking a tiny baby around in his arms.

He had once seen the desperate hope to provide for his family in the soul of a child who he had just decapitated.

He understood that every time he killed someone, he was forced to see what he had taken away. Whether it was a loving husband, a caring mother, or even an innocent child.

He understood that he was not a hero. He was not saving anybody.

He was nothing but a cold-blooded murderer.

–––

Bell sighed as he observed the battlefield from his vantage point in the trees.

"This will be a bit difficult…" He sighed again.

"Sir?" A soldier next to him spoke up, "I'm afraid I don't understand…"

It did feel kind of awkward to have someone much older than him address him as Sir, but Bell got used to it pretty quickly.

It was a nice feeling, after all.

"Well," Bell pointed at one of the entrances to the canyon, "We have to go through there if we want any chance of success. Any other route will make us prone to landfalls, rockslides, and other problems that could potentially kill this entire unit."

"So," Bell explained, "They can centre most of their forces around that area. It'll be difficult to break through…"

"Then… what will we do?"

Bell chuckled darkly.

"Have you heard of Hannibal's crossing of the Alps?" He laughed at the frozen expression of the people beside him, "Oh, don't worry. You guys won't be in any danger."

"Sir?"

"You will be staying here to guard this vantage point… I'll do it by myself."

–––

When the sun dropped below the horizon, Bell put on a black cloak and slid out of camp.

As it was, his white hair was a hindrance, so it had to be fully covered with a black hood.

"I'm going now." He told the person watching the entrance. The watchman nodded at him, wishing him luck.

He quickly exited, and ran through the forest, out of sight.

–––

The forest was silent.

Most animals were sleeping, and the occasional nocturnal animal – such as an owl or a wolf – was either avoided or quickly dispatched.

The layout of the entire place was not optimal. There was a one kilometer stretch of land that Bell would have to cross without cover after he exited the safety of the trees.

After he crossed the plains, he would then have to enter the mountains, where things would be much better.

At best, he would have a few minutes to cross a few hundred meters without being spotted.

Hard, considering the terrain, but not impossible.

With that in mind, Bell leapt out of the trees and broke into a run.

–––

He sprinted across, both blades tightly tucked to his side.

He let a bit of mana flow into his legs, helping him move even faster.

He felt a bit of light peek over a large boulder.

"Light magic." He realised, quickly rolling to the side and flattening himself against the ground.

"Hey, did you see anything?" He heard one of the watchmen turn to his companion and ask as he used his magic to sweep the ground.

"No. Did you?" The watchman responded.

"I think I saw a flash of white…" The guard muttered, "It can't be– Urkh!"

Bell dashed forward, burying his other sword in the throat of the second guard, killing him.

"Damnit, I got revealed too early." He cursed, "I'll have to speed things up a bit…"

He picked up both of his swords and began moving again.

–––

"Sir, the two guards have yet to return." A soldier reported as he flipped open the door to a tent, "Do you think something happened to them?"

"Here? All the way in this shithole?" The commander looked up from his mug of what appeared to be beer, "As if any retarded idiot would come here."

"But, sir."

"I don't want to hear another word out of your mouth."

"…Yes, sir."

–––

Bell stood behind the commander's tent, his ear pressed to it, listening in.

"Good, they won't be searching for me."

It was a stroke of luck that the commander was so incompetent. If the commander actually told people to look out for him, he would have had to rush in and kill as many as possible before making it out, but now he had a bit more freedom with his actions.

His first priority would be taking out the guards who were watching the food stores, to make sure they didn't panic and burn it when they realised he was here. It wouldn't be too difficult, as there were only a few of them.

He snuck around the patrol, sticking close to walls and hiding on rooftops.

The guardsmen slumped to the ground as he knocked them out with a combination of martial arts and wordplay.

It was actually much harder than Bell originally would've imagined, seeing as it would be over the instant he made any noises.

After he had taken out the guards, he then moved towards his next target – The commander's tent.

Once he took out the people in charge, it would be easy to kill the rest of the army.

With that thought in mind, he pulled his arm back and threw his black blade through the tent walls.

–––

"Commander, there has been no movement from the imperial army sighted in the past few days, I fear this may be a strategy of theirs." One of the strategic advisors spoke.

"You do have a point…" The commander paused to speak, "But regardless, if no one has mobilized, what can they do? If reinforcements are coming, we can take count and act accordingly, but none have been sighted yet. Any unit larger than ten would be picked out by our patrols with ease, so we have no fear of a frontal assault either."

"You are right…" Another advisor paused to think, before freezing, "No-no way."

"What is it? Speak up." The commander yelled impatiently.

"We've… we've forgotten about their trump card…" The advisor shuddered, "No wonder there were no sightings…"

"Get on with it. What is their plan?" The commander questioned again.

"They–They've sent the White Death after us." At the mention of that name, everyone in the room shuddered, as if a cold breeze had blown in.

The next moment, a blade buried itself in the back of the commanders head.

–––

Killing the commander and his advisors had been easy.

They were all inexperienced in combat and had no weapons so to speak, so they were easily beaten by Bell and killed without making any noise.

"Next…" Bell spoke to himself, "This is the part that I don't like."

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a crimson red magic sword.

A Crozzo magic sword.

And he stabbed it into the ground, setting the entire encampment on fire.

Part 3: Memories of the Elven Princess

Bell was, once again, wandering in the gardens of the royal palace.

Although he did find the stench of flowers a bit too strong, it was bearable, and the overall environment was very nice.

When he wasn't fighting, he tended to sit in one of the pavillions and relax.

It was funny – a warrior known as the White Death because he had killed so many, enjoying looking at flowers.

Kind of ironic, actually.

"Hmm?" Bell let out a sound of surprise.

There was already a person there, sitting in his favourite spot, picking flowers.

She had long green hair that extended all the way past her waist, curling a little bit at the ends.

Bell knew who she was – The elven princess, Riveria Ljos Alf.

Although he had never directly spoken with her before, she was a fairly famous figure in both social and political circles, so it would be hard not to know her.

It was said that she was somewhat of a magic prodigy. Despite her young age, which was around the same as his, she had already mastered all of the basic elven spells, most of the intermediate ones, and was already progressing onto the advanced ones.

It was even said that she had already unlocked her own personal magic, although people were unsure of that rumour, as there was no definitive proof for each side.

Despite her ability that could rival even experienced spellcasters, at least in terms of pure magical power, she had never once stepped on the battlefield. While everyone knew it was because of her relationship with the king, they also understood, to some extent, that as youthful as she was, she lacked the key experience needed to fight as a spellcaster on the front lines.

Still, that did not stop the growing resentment amongst the population of people who had their own children drafted into fighting the war.

Bell decided, after a short moment of pondering, to go over and greet her. After all, it would be bad decorum if he didn't, after all. Lack of etiquette towards the royal family and all.

"Hello." He wove as he walked close to her, trying to sound enthusiastic. Of course, it came out in the same, monotone voice.

It was hard to act enthusiastic about meeting someone, after all.

"Oh, hello." The girl looked up from picking flowers before freezing, "Y-you're…"

"The White Death, yes." Bell answered pre-emptively, "But right now, I am just Bell Cranell."

"Th-then, nice to meet you… Bell." She stuttered a bit before speaking, "I'm Riveria."

"Honestly, am I that scary?"

Cough.

"Nice to meet you, Riveria." Bell tried again to smile, but to no avail.

"Yes… it's an honour to meet the famed White Death." She did smile, though.

Bell grimaced.

"I already told you, as of now, I am just Bell Cranell. So, uh…" Bell tried to think of something to say, before noticing the bouquet in her hand, "Why are you picking flowers?"

She froze, staring at him, unblinking.

"U-uh, it's…" She stuttered, "It's for my brother."

"Your brother?"

"Mm." She nodded vigorously, "He's always working really hard on the frontlines, fighting, so I want to do what little I can to support him."

"Your brother, huh…" Bell spoke, unintentionally letting the words slip out of his mouth, "Must be nice to still have a brother."

"Still have a brother?" Riveria questioned, looking slightly confused, "You used to have one? What happened?"

"He died." Bell answered curtly.

"How?" Riveria asked, curious, before realising what she had just asked, "I'm sorry for my–"

"No, it's fine." Bell interrupted her, "My brother, huh…"

He paused for a moment to think, "He died only a few years ago."

"In the civil war? I'm sorry for your loss."

"No, not in the civil war." Bell replied, "My brother was a researcher who specialised in the field of curses."

He began telling his story.

"I used to look up to him when I was growing up. Our parents passed away soon after I was born, so he was the one who took care of me growing up."

A nostalgic smile crossed his face.

"But as we grew up, we grew distant. I dedicated myself more and more to the art of the blade, and he delved further and further into his research."

"Perhaps, if I had noticed the change in him earlier, things could've been different. But…" Bell sighed.

"I arrived home one day, after training in the forests."

"My brother always had a strange fascination for magic rituals. And when I arrived home, I caught him in the middle of making one."

"Further scrutiny showed me that it was a contract ritual. He was trying to establish a connection with some form of divinity. When I asked him what he was doing, he told me this."

I am bringing our parents back.

"Revival magic was something that no mortal should attempt, but my brother, in his desperation, did it. Or at least, he tried to."

"He had screwed up with his research. Instead of establishing a connection with Hades, as he wished, he had instead established a connection with Tartarus."

"Before he had even realised, it was already beginning to corrupt his body, and before I could do anything, it had fully taken over."

"I remember raising my two blades in resignation, and I fought him."

"The aspect of Tartarus within him made him strong. As the fight drew on, he slowly became more and more corrupted. At the start, I could at least still feel some semblance of what used to be my brother within it, but it disappeared the moment we fought. His body seemed as if it had been wrapped in black cobwebs, tendrils of darkness covering every inch of his existence."

"Have you heard of the incidence within the Lion clan's forest, where a humanoid demonic beast nearly killed the entire clan and destroyed a large portion of the forest? Well, that was only partially true. The forest wasn't destroyed as a result of the demonic beast's rampage, but instead, as a result of the fight between my and my brother, who, by then, had already become a demonic beast."

"He was already beyond saving, so I killed him. That's what he would've wanted, anyway."

–––

Silence permeated the garden.

Bell stood still, merely looking at the sky, not talking.

Riveria, on the other hand, was frozen in shock.

It wasn't every day that you saw a child talking about how he killed the last remaining member of his family without any form of expression on his face, after all.

"So yes, I killed my very own brother with the two blades that I hold right now." He gave a sad chuckle, "I remember, after I struck him through the heart with my sword, he looked up to me and thanked me. Thanked me for killing him, thanked me for releasing him from the spiral of darkness he was descending down."

"It must've been hard." Riveria finally spoke.

Bell gave another sad laugh.

"That's the thing. It wasn't. I didn't feel any sorrow as I watched him crumble out of existence into black ash, as a monster would. He was no longer an elf, but an animal that needed to be put down."

"That's– That's just wrong!" Riveria cried out, "He was your brother, was he not? How can you speak of him as if was just a random stranger on the streets?"

Bell's voice turned cold.

"Then what would you have me do?! Delude myself into thinking that he could be saved and let tens, maybe even hundreds of people die?" He snarled, "If I had not put him down there, at the very minimum, the Lion clan forest would have been turned to nothing but ash, and at least half of the imperial army would die. You have no idea what he became. You didn't see the miasma that radiated off his body in droves, you didn't see how birds would stop around him, midflight, and fall to the ground dead. Wherever he moved, leaves would turn dry and crumble. Trees would become brittle, and a single touch would turn them into nothing but a pile of ash. So, tell me, what would you have me do? Even if I could save him, the price that would be paid would not be worth it. Neither he nor I would choose that in good conscience."

"I-" Riveria looked down, feeling slightly ashamed of herself, "I'm sorry."

Bell turned and walked away, leaving her by herself.

–––

A month later, Bell returned to the royal capital after finishing an assignment.

It had been a very brutal affair. They had fallen prey to an ambush and were heavily outnumbered, forced to fight their way out tooth and nail.

He, along with the other survivors of the incident, were covered head to toe with blood that was not their own.

He took a bath and walked to his room.

On his bed, he found a note addressed to him.

–––

Dear Bell,

This is Riveria.

I wanted to apologize to you for what I said the other day, but I could never find you around the castle to speak with you about it. I will soon be leaving for the magic academy, so I most likely won't be able to speak with you before I leave.

I want to say sorry for jumping to conclusions about your decisions, and judging you based on my views of what is right and wrong, without being willing to change.

On behalf of everyone you helped that day, I wish to thank you. I did some research, and your actions helped save hundreds of people.

So, thank you. Thank you for making the decision, thank you for protecting this country.

I will be returning from the academy in a month, because of a school break. If possible, could we meet up? I would love to get to know you better.

From Riveria.

P.S: I was originally planning on giving this to my brother, but I think you need this even more.

–––

Bell looked at what was attached to the letter.

It was a large bouquet of lavender flowers.

"Well then…" He smiled, "Guess I'd better clear up some plans."

–––

Part 4 and Epilogue: Memories of the Executed Soldier

Following the end of the war and the capturing of the rebel leaders, the king asked Bell to serve as a bodyguard for the royal family, saying that he could not think of any better person for the job.

Having grown much closer to Riveria following their many interactions, Bell naturally agreed.

Never once did he expect it to be a ploy.

–––

The elven king was growing fearful, and with good reason.

Despite his evident lack of interest in politics, Bell had gained quite a large following for his accomplishments.

All it would take is a few simple actions, and he could potentially usurp the throne from him.

The king sighed.

Although it would be a heavy sacrifice, he was willing to sacrifice a single soldier, no matter how strong, in order to maintain his rule.

Now that he thought of it, his son was acting rather rebellious these days… all it would take was a small nudge.

"Lion." He called out, and an elf appeared from the shadows, "Go, find my son, and incite him into attempting an assassination on Riveria."

The elf looked confused, but obeyed regardless.

"Now all I have to do is wait for the pieces to fall into place." The king smiled.

–––

Ryuu Lion was a confused woman.

She had entered the king's service near the start of the war and had remained as his hidden operative ever since.

She had a perfect record of success, never once having failed an assassination, failed to obtain certain materials, or fail to hunt down an enemy.

She was even more valuable because regardless of how morally grey her missions were, she carried them out without question.

She had received her mission, thus she would complete it.

Still, a nagging voice in the back of her mind questioned what she was doing.

–––

The prince was in a bad mood.

Yesterday, another one of the nobles who were supporting his bid for the throne had died.

"Damn him!"

He knew that it was his father who had done it, but there was nothing he could do about it.

He could only bide his time and wait.

But that all changed when a green haired woman entered his room and offered her assistance… through the window, for some reason.

–––

Bell had always been fairly confident in his sixth sense. It had saved him on several occasions.

And as of now, it was screaming at him to stay on his toes, louder than it ever had before.

But there was nothing he could do. After all, you can't fight an enemy who you don't know exists.

All he could do was to prepare himself for a danger that would inevitably appear, sooner or later.

–––

That night, Bell was, once again, standing guard outside of the Riveria's bedroom.

His two blades were tucked to his side, but he never relaxed.

Someone walked up to him.

He recognised the person. Although she tended to stay out of the public eyes, she was still very famous. People just rarely saw her face or knew her name.

"Ryuu." He spoke, "Why are you here?"

"I came to warn you." She told him, "Please do not interrupt, for time is short. Tonight, the first prince will attempt to assassinate the princess."

"What?"

"But the king, he plans to use that as an opportunity to accuse you of killing royalty… and removing you. Even if you capture him without injuring him, the king will kill him by himself and accuse you regardless." Ryuu quickly spoke, seeming very rushed, "I'm sorry, but there's not much I can do… The White Death, no, Bell Cranell, I wish to thank you for everything you have done. Although this country's king has not deemed fit to do so himself, I wish to let you know that I, and the public, are all grateful for what you have done."

Bell sighed in defeat.

"Thank you, Ryuu. You're a good friend." Bell gripped his fist tightly before loosening it again, "But it seems this will be the last time we meet."

"I know it is pointless for me to say this, but if you run away, you can at least escape death." She proposed.

"And let Riveria die? We both know that I won't do that…" Bell looked down at the floor, "You should go before anyone sees you talking to me."

Ryuu walked up to him before pulling him into a hug.

"I'm sorry." She spoke, "Stay strong."

And with that, she was gone.

–––

Everything proceeded exactly like she said it would.

At the stroke of midnight, the prince snuck into Riveria's bedroom – or at least tried to, but Bell stopped him, and, after a short duel, killed him.

After that, he was taken in by the authorities, accused of crimes against royalty, and sentenced to death.

But right before he blacked out, a voice spoke to him in his head.

"Bell Cranell." It told him, "Do you wish for another chance?"

And, without hesitation, he answered.

"Yes."

Thank you, everyone. Riveria, Ryuu, you two were amazing friends. I'm sorry that I'll have to leave you now.

Maybe, one day, I'll be able to meet you again.

–––

~Memories of a Long Gone War~

~Fine~

Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Farewell, see you next time.