Chapter 129

Bell's heart screamed at him. Go after Solaris. Save Solaris. She couldn't do it on her own. She would perish against the hound of vengeance. His very soul urged him on to leave after her. And yet…

She was the captain. And she gave her order, as well as a plead, to put their trust in her. Thus, Bell did what she shouted. Focus. And with focus, time slowed down, with focus, he silenced his bleeding emotions, in order to make the correct decision in this heat of a moment. A snap decision, so to say. His senses, eyes, skin, ears, they all took in the facts of the situation.

The Violas had free reign in their movements now, with Solaris gone. Hans was too busy counteracting Salieri, Haruhime's Ghost Fire did not lend itself to deal with them. They had limited magic swords, Lefiya couldn't chant any faster than she already did. Bell could take over, his Dragon Fang and Firebolt excellent for this, but then he'd leave the front to Kojiro alone. No, in order for everyone to have maximum safety…to ensure they would all get home…

His eyes snapped towards his target, just as his feet touched the ground. His legs bulged with tension, as he inhaled, arms wide.

"I'll leave it to you!"

He didn't look at any of them. The Takemikazuchi Familia, Liliruca and Welf appeared utterly confused about what he meant. But Haruhime, Lefiya and Hans respectively saw what he was going for, before gritting their teeth with determination.

"Understood!"

"Don't you dare lose!"

"Why am I taking over for the arsonist?! Aaagh, fine!"

The next moment, Bell shrank the earth between him and his target. If he was not being mind controlled, his eyes would've gone wide, before getting tackled, Bell's arm around his torso. With high speeds, the Avenger was removed from the battlefield, as the Albion roared, trying to create as much distance as possible. To ensure that Salieri was out of the picture for the massive fight he left behind.

With Salieri gone, the others would no longer have that mental pressure on them.

With Salieri gone, Hans would have his hands freed up to deal with the Violas, or Filvis, or something. He had full confidence in his Familia to pick up the slack, faith in Lefiya's ability to coordinate them. They had their duty…and he had his.

Naturally the Avenger didn't allow himself to be pushed away for long. He raised his sword, tip pointed downwards, but Bell reacted quickly, stomping his feet on the ground and coming to a sudden stop. With the gained momentum, Salieri was sent flying backwards before sliding on his feet. Bell exhaled, flexing his legs a bit, sensing the build up of an ache. They were still good however. He glanced back, checking the distance he created. It wasn't enough to silent the music completely for Lefiya and the others…but it should be enough to diminish the effects. Not to mention…

He slashed his blades across each other, creating sparks, before pointing his right sword forward while holding the left next to his head.

Not to mention, Salieri would have his hands full dealing with him after all. With that in mind, Bell bounced on his feet a few times, before becoming a blur of rapid, erratic movements. The servant did not bother to track him with his eyes, instead stroking his sword across the air. At the same time the violin played, a fast paced melodic sound echoing against the stone walls.

And yet, Bell did not slow down. His mind was as bright as ever, blazing the trail for his body to follow. It was as if the very sounds were unable to invade his souls, unable to twist it. It was something he had noticed before, just when the attack began…that the mental effects of Salieri's music just didn't work on him. He had no idea why, but who was he to object to such a blessing?

Because of that, the musician was not prepared for the onslaught of blades, coming from above, below, from the sides, from behind, from the front. His music was forcefully stopped, as he tried to parry the blows. Yet only a few times did edge cut against edge, his body stumbling backwards. Yet Bell grit his teeth, not feeling any good responses from his attacks. That armor of his was incredibly sturdy. Something of a rare thing when it came to humanoid opponents…So instead, he just had to use something else then!

"Firebolt!"

The palm extended out and blasted Salieri right in the face. The recoil sent Bell backwards, but so did it send Salieri backwards as well. To the adventurer's shock however, his helmet was scorched, blackened…but still steady.

And with the distance created, Salieri slammed his fingers into the air, starting his music once more, rapidly performing a fast paced melody. Bell clicked his tongue in irritation, as the white phantoms were created one by one by one, to dozens. Swords aimed at him from all sides, as well as the mysterious "boom sticks" as he named them in his mind. His eyes moved rapidly, trying to path out his approach-

"Tengai."

The world refracted by dozens of cuts coming into existence from parallel worlds. The phantoms were frozen in place, as if the lines were wires tying them down. Then, the next instant, the picture broke apart, same with the phantoms, all while Salieri spat out blood, as the cuts pierced through his very armor. It already started to regenerate, but he fell down on his right knee, clutching his left arm. Bell couldn't help but turn around with shock, gaping openly.

"Kojiro?!"

"Young master, you truly are swift on your feet," he chuckled before letting out a sigh. "You didn't think I'd leave you alone with this one, did you now?" The swordsman asked, slightly out of breath, as he wiped his forehead. His long sword tapped his shoulder as he calmly walked up to Bell's side, eyeing Salieri with focus.

"What about-"

"They can handle it." Kojiro nodded once before smiling at him. "Haruhime has grown strong enough to deal with the frontline. Have faith."

Bell bit his lip. On the one hand, he believed that they needed Kojiro more than him. On the other hand, he was not so arrogant to believe he could take on Salieri alone. Not without big risk. He shook his head. No use thinking about what ifs now, Kojiro made his decision, so they had to make the best out of it. Salieri rose to his feet again, his armor restored from the cuts inflicted by Kojiro. The two swordsman narrowed their eyes before raising their blades.

"I shall take the front. You can move as you wish," Kojiro announced, causing Bell to nod in agreement.

"Let's do this!"

Thus, the orchestra began anew. New phantoms, new music. Ironically, the greatest melody came from Kojiro and Salieri clashing their blades against each other. The sounds should have been ear bleeding, screeching noises of metal against metal. Instead, their steel sang, with each time the cutting edges stroked against each other. Naturally, Salieri was no swordsman. Only with the ever constant pressure of the music pressing down on Kojiro was he not completely overwhelmed by him alone. Kojiro's eyes twitched, becoming unsteady sometimes before resharpening their focus. In those moments, where Kojiro stumbled, his mind strong but not invulnerable, Bell stepped in.

Cut down the phantoms before they could flank them. Bounce off the wall and leap at Salieri, cutting him across the shoulder. Rinse repeat, with a new target each time. Bell did not watch out for Kojiro's blade. With no hesitation, he maintained his speed, to fly across the battlefield, for he had full faith that the blade of the Mugen would never touch him, no matter what.

And he was correct. Common sense dictated that Kojiro would be hindered by Bell's body imposing itself over and over into that duel of his. And yet, his sword moved smoothly, like a river, moving around Bell's form, to stab, to cut, to cleave into Salieri's body. All while parrying and dodging the miasma energy forming from the music, the fire of the boom sticks, the phantoms leaping into them.

Teacher and student, having traveled and fought alongside each other, it was only natural that their teamwork was excellent, with less chaff to distract them with, like Violas or another combatant like Filvis.

Thus, Salieri's armor broke down, blood seeping through the cracks. No longer regenerating, the servant was pushed back further and further, even as his melodies were unrelenting. Nevertheless, the two warriors could sense it, the opening to finish it all. Bell swiped his blade upwards from below. Kojiro took his stance, blade held next to his head.

"Dragon-!"

"Tsubame-!"

However, instead of magic and reality breaking skill manifesting…all that came out of the two was blood. They coughed all of a sudden, a flare of agony hitting their bodies. The next moment, a shockwave smashed into them, as Salieri tore at an air string, sending them against the walls. Gasping for air, Bell blinked in utter confusion was he felt something wet leave his openings. Ears, eyes, nose, mouth. Then, the fluids dropped down…scarlet red, coloring the ground. Bell took only a moment to realize what was happening, while he felt like his entire body was set on fire and stabbed with thousands of needles.

Salieri's music. They were not just attacks directed at one's mind. They were not just actions to summon the phantoms, the miasma like attacks. Salieri's music itself…was a sound based attack. Subtle waves that affected the body over time. No matter how sturdy one's mind was. There was a limit to what the flesh itself could handle, which in turn would affect one's spirit as well. Bell might have been fast…but he was not faster than sound itself. He was unable to avoid the invisible attacks. And thus, he and Kojiro were whittled down.

The two warriors were running out of time. Each sound, each stroke of music, vibrated their blood, tore their flesh in miniscule ways, slowly crumbling the foundation that was their very bones. They both forced themselves up to their feet, but the very act was agonizing.

But pain meant nothing to a true adventurer. Thus, the both of them let out a battle cry, blood leaving their mouths, before rushing back at Salieri. Their agility was not remotely up to par. But they still urged their flesh on, no matter how battered they were.

This time, even with the attacks dealt against Salieri, the duel between him and Kojiro was more equal. The Eastern man's limbs shook against his will, his precision suffering, his steadiness crumbling, as blade met blade. It didn't help that the phantoms were able to approach him, Bell's speed unable to whittle them down fast enough. To Kojiro's credit, he swung his blade wide, dealing with the ghost like figures, but some of their rapiers managed to get through his storm, piercing his flesh, making him grunt in pain. Bell on the other hand felt his lungs burn, as he pushed his all to accelerate just a little bit. The shots grazed his body, sending more pain across his skin, but he was able to cut them down. Then, his head snapped towards Salieri…his back specifically.

He took his chance. Pushing off against the wall, Bell intended to finish it here and now, sparks cracking in his right palm. The image of fire was easier to create than the image of a dragon, his addled exhausted mind appreciating the simple image. Unable to power up Argonaut in such a state, he just hoped to interrupt the music at least. He flew across the air, right arm extended forward…when time slowed down to a crawl, his spine freezing over.

Salieri glanced right at him, the moment he kicked off the wall. Kojiro was forced to retreat by a miasma blade cutting into his path. Thus, Salieri reared his arm back, in the process of playing a particularly loud melody.

It was a trap. One that Bell was unable to avoid, even as Kojiro's mouth opened ever so slowly to warn him. Bell felt his heart still.

He was going to die. At this range, with the power that Salieri build up, he doubted that Morgenglocke could save him. At best, he'd be out of commission only. And that alone was essentially a death sentence.

Bell Cranel had nothing in his current arsenal to block this point blank attack. It was as if Fate itself denied him this chance. Indeed, it was as if it was a tragedy written by the gods. At the same time, tragedies occured on the surface, on a foreign land. The dice were cast. A common fate declared within the dungeon. Just another adventurer to die to bad luck, bad match up, bad decisions.

Losing was the only natural conclusion to this course of events.

However.

"NOT YEEEEEEET!"

The growing hero refused the concept of inevitability. He refused that he was completely devoid of [ruby=Hope] possibilities[/ruby]. Even as his mind accepted that his magic would not protect him…he casted it anyway.

At the same time as his palm was set aflame, his body was covered in the ghost like armor. He didn't think about his chances. Didn't think that he was casting two spells at the same time, one entirely unrelated to defense. Didn't think about the what ifs, of if he failed, if the others would be alright.

All he could see in his mind's eye…was the image of his goddess. Worrying, yet smiling nonetheless. Praying for his safe return, making him even promise so. What kind of followed, what kind of family, would he be, if he were to break this promise?!

Thus…the bell was rung by the shockwave of Salieri. The flames of Hearth echoed with the recoil. Unbeknownst to Bell, with his heartfelt image, and the combination of two of his spells…a new spell was created, in the image of Hestia.

In the image of the evercleansing, warm, Hearth, healing one's mind from the cruelty of the world. In that moment of despair, he took ahold of hope, of a dream to return home. And with that…Bell was unharmed, as he was sent flying. He was safe and sound, as the armor around him broke immediately, bursting into flames, having taken the brunt of the damage, before dousing Salieri in them.

Fate has been written. And yet... a glorious light pierced through the darkness that commanded mortals and gods alike. The Bell of the Last Hero rang, and it rejected Despair, rejected the First Sin Not Complete. Rejected it utterly and without a speck of doubt, the singular path created for him, in order to branch out, to prove that this line of time was not yet completely lost.

Bell gasped for air, but forced himself up, no matter how much his head pounded. The blissful silence was soothing, thus he stood up once more. Blinking rapidly, his vision stopped being fuzzy…to reveal something shocking.

His flames didn't hurt Salieri at all. Instead…it melted his armor away, as if cleansing him. It revealed a man with silver hair and red eyes, clutching his head with a groan. It was an opening neither Kojiro nor Bell missed. Grabbing onto their swords, they were about to come in from above and below-

"Where…?"

-just to stop immediately, seeing the clear eyes looking around in confusion. Bell and Kojiro shared a shocked look. It couldn't be…?

"Kojiro? What is… Guh…!" Salieri took in a sharp breath, his eyes going wide with realization."I remember…I was summoned…And then…Then…!" He growled, gritting his teeth, a red aura surging around him, filled with rage. "To be used as a puppet…what could be more insulting…?!"

Bell tightened his grip on his blades. Such hate, a far cry of what he saw before. And yet…the man was free in his mind. How? His spell? But he didn't have such a spell. Maybe the damage was just enough for this. Either way…what now? It appeared the servant was free of control. But that did not mean they were allies.

And yet, Kojiro let out a small laugh, sheathing his sword in fact. Crossing his arms after wiping his bleeding eyes, he tilted his head ever so slightly.

"So. Payback seems appropriate, doesn't it?"

Salieri barked out an ugly laugh, his messy hair covering his glowing eyes.

"Indeed it does. Indeed it certainly does." He glanced at Bell, nodding at him once. "What is your name, young man?"

Surprised at being addressed, he stood up straighter, responding by reflex.

"B-Bell Cranel."

The musician bowed dramatically before spreading his arms open.

"I thank you, Bell Cranel. I do not know how, but you have given me back my clarity." His face twisted into a distorted smirk. "Allow me to repay that favor in kind!"

Energy surged from him, even as it worsened his wounds. Then, in a blink of an eye, the scarlet armor of hatred was donned once more. Yet the power radiating from him did not stop there, as it manifested the piano before him, building up more and more power.

"You sinner that has cursed me and my fellow Avengers with your hatred! You who dared to trick us, taint us! Heed the sounds of your doom! Listen to the noise that shall tear your plans apart! This is our Hate! Ours and ours alone! Do not tarnish it with your own hatred, do not taint it with your inane projections!"

Hope and determination, love and courage, have opened this path. Set the stage. And now... it was time to Avenge the hurt. The Fallen. To let loose all the negative emotions boiling in the victims of this earthly realm, channeled into this singular [ruby= Heroic Spirit] Avenger[/ruby]. To end this charade of a play across the world. As his emotions surged more and more, his very form shifted as well.

Hands turned into claws. The mask tore itself apart, to form a maw, a beast like head. Black wings fluttered out of control, as his back arched like a predator leaning over its prey. Bell's eyes were wide with shock, while Kojiro chuckled under his breath.

In that final ascension, this final form of his, Salieri oozed with hatred that warped the very air around him. At this moment, Antonio Salieri truly appeared to be an abominable entity, whose only purpose was death and destruction in the name of hate. Yes, he looked more monstrous than ever.

And yet…Bell didn't recoil. Didn't look away in disgust. Instead, he could only look at awe, at the raw depth Salieri showcased.

"Behold, your requiem, Night Queen!"

And then…he finally played the first note, sending goosebumps across Bell's entire skin. One note, followed by others, each shaking his very soul with its weight, its beauty. The sounds surpassed the physical realm, moving past the obstacles of flesh and walls, reaching far, far beyond their own station. There were no words uttered, no explanations. And yet, Bell, mesmerized by the beauty of it all, could only think of one message that this song burned into his mind.

Today... was a [ruby= Dies Irae] Day of Wrath [/ruby].

Yet as the melody was played, Salieri himself was not enjoying himself. Nay, enjoyment was impossible for an existence like him. Especially with what he put on the line there.

He coughed up blood, yet did not allow it to stop his performance. He groaned in pain, yet his fingers moved as smoothly as ever. His very body was tearing itself apart, rips and gashes appearing from the very hate he had within. Bell took an unconscious step forward, wanting to help. But before he could take another one, become aware of what he was doing, Salieri snapped his head towards him with a mosntrous snarl.

"STAY BACK!" Without looking at Bell's startled reaction, he focused back on his play, cackling as his blood left his mouth. "Never interrupt one's performance, no matter how terrible it is…!"

Bell gulped…and took a step back, watching Salieri perform.

Indeed.

Antonio Salieri looked more monstrous than ever. And yet…in Bell's eyes, in that very moment…

His whole body was twitching, yet with all his might, he kept his hands steady. His disgust at the world, at his tormentor, were laid bare. He was darkness itself, hammering his fingers into the musical instrument, as if trying to crush it. Nevertheless…all Bell could think, that he saw nothing more humane than this. This raw hatred, born from the purest expressons of love. Even as his twisted mind was incapable of recognizing his actions as anything beautiful, anything commendable…it didn't change the facts.

Antonio Salieri was the most heroic being in the world for Bell Cranel.

"And you!" Salieri screamed, looking up at the ceiling, intensifying the weight of his playing, arms rising and hammering down over and over again.

"You're noisy! Shut up! You will not silence this noise, you will not cover your ears!"

"YOU!"

"ALL OF YOU!"

"WILL!"

"LISTEN!"

In the Far East, a sister opened her eyes. On the surface, many clouded eyes cleared up. Within the dungeon, clarity returned to certain minds. Everywhere, those who were about to rejoice, despaired. Those who were about to despair, rejoiced. The sounds reached all, through the power ruling in the shadows.

Light returned, banishing the dull darkness inhabiting their eyes. Each and every single one of them woke up to the [ruby=music] noise[/ruby] entering their very souls. Those that sided with justice. Those that sided with evil. Alive or dead, human or monster. They all listened to the scratching nails that rebelled against everything in existence, to the vibrating waves in reality that expressed Antonio Salieri's entire existence, entire hatred.

And yet, every performance had its end. Somehow, Salieri reached the end of his performance…even as his lower body was completely disintergrated at this point. His form disappearing in golden glitters, his very core broken down and exhausted from this act.

"Hahahahahahaha!" With his remaining arm, he pointed at Bell. Not out of joy, not out of pride, but out of the sense of satisfaction that came…with coming to an end. "With this, the debt has been repaid! With this atrocity of noise…! I say goodbye!"

Thus, Antonio Salieri disappeared. And thus, Fate was overwritten, thanks to two sides of the same coin. Love of the living. Hate of the dead. Together, the Great Will was defied. With the narrative turned…the counter attack began.

But Bell was unaware of such things. So was Kojiro. The two almost collapsed on the spot, barely able to comprehend what they witnessed. Yet the sounds of distant battle urged them to remain conscious, to remain standing, no matter what.

"Can you move, young master?" Kojiro asked with a weak chuckle. Bell clenched his eyes shut with heavy breath.

"Barely…" Shaking his head, he turned around. "We have to check on the others, quickly…"

Thus, with sluggish movements, they made their way back…praying in their hearts that all was well.