2 days after the meeting between the 5 candidates.
The morning mist slowly dissipated in the vast gardens of the Karsten Mansion, revealing the imposing building of classical architecture that dominated the landscape. The trees lining the property looked like dark shadows against the horizon, still shrouded in a blanket of darkness. The sun, timid, projected its first rays over the large windows of the mansion, creating golden reflections that danced on the white marble walls. Inside the residence, silence reigned absolute, interrupted only by the occasional whisper of the wind that passed through the corridors.
Crusch Karsten, seated at the head of a long, polished oak table, maintained the rigid and formal posture that was characteristic of her. Her long, slender fingers, accustomed to wielding a sword, rested on the surface of the table, slightly tense. Her dark green hair, tied in an impeccable ponytail, fell over her shoulders, further accentuating the expression of concentration that marked her features. Her amber eyes, ever watchful, reflected the soft light that filled the room, but behind her steady gaze, there was a mix of thoughts and memories that disturbed her.
To Crusch's right stood Felix Argyle, the feline healer, whose yellow eyes watched her intently, as if trying to catch any sign of emotion that might escape his mistress. Felix, with his feline mannerisms and androgynous appearance, was usually a playful and carefree figure, but today there was a seriousness in his demeanor that was rare to see. He knew that what was about to be discussed here was of utmost importance to both Crusch and Felt, and this required him to maintain a serious demeanor as well, despite his usual carefree demeanor.
Wilhelm van Astrea, on the other hand, stood a little to the side, but close enough to observe and intervene if necessary. His tall, muscular physique contrasted with the elegance of his butler's robes, but it was the gravity in his gaze that drew the most attention. Wilhelm's sky-blue eyes, so full of experience and pain accumulated over the years, reflected a mixture of wisdom and veiled uneasiness. He knew that these meetings were essential for Crusch, but he also knew that the weight of past events would never be completely removed from her shoulders.
Across the table, Felt sat in a less formal manner, her crimson eyes staring at Crusch with an expression that wavered between impatience and unease. Her usually messy blonde hair was tied back in a bun, a rare effort to look more presentable in a setting that required a certain formality. But even so, Felt couldn't shake the feeling of unease. These meetings, though necessary, made her relive moments that she would rather bury deep in her mind. She drummed her fingers nervously on the table, her gaze occasionally straying to the window, as if searching for an escape route from the oppressive environment.
Beside Felt, Reinhard van Astrea stood as an imposing yet reassuring figure. The Sword Saint, with his almost godlike presence, was a force to be reckoned with, but also someone Felt trusted unconditionally. Reinhard, with his upright posture and watchful gaze, observed everything with serene calm. But even he, accustomed to the most terrifying battles, felt the weight of this meeting, aware of how delicate the emotions involved were.
The air in the room was filled with an almost palpable tension, a tension that seemed to grow with each passing second as everyone waited for the meeting to begin. This was the fifth time Crusch and Felt had met since the tragic incident in Pristella, where they had both been victims of the atrocities of the Archbishop of Lust, Capella Emerada Lugnica. The purpose of these meetings was clear: to create a safe space where they could both express their anguish, process their traumas, and perhaps find some kind of solace or understanding. But there was something else, something that, although not said out loud, permeated each meeting: the need to understand the role of the Slayer, the mysterious savior who had appeared at the darkest moment of their lives.
Crusch was the first to break the silence, her low but firm voice cutting through the air like the blade of a sword.
— Felt, how have you been feeling since we last spoke?
The question was direct, almost as if Crusch was trying to probe the depths of Felt's emotions. But at the same time, there was an underlying kindness in her words, a genuine concern that Crusch tried to express in a restrained manner.
Felt sighed, her shoulders relaxing a little as she looked out the window, taking in the sunlight that was beginning to illuminate the garden outside.
Remembering the events that had unfolded in Pristella was something she preferred to avoid, but there, in that room, with the person who shared her traumas, she felt safe enough to be honest.
— I try not to think too much about what happened, but it's hard… — she admitted, her voice tinged with a resentment she couldn't hide. — Every time I close my eyes, that damn witch appears. Those eyes… that smile… it's like she's still haunting me.
Felt's words reverberated throughout the room, bringing back painful memories for everyone present. The young woman was used to dealing with difficult situations, but what had happened in Pristella was beyond anything she had ever faced. The physical and emotional torment Capella had inflicted on her and Crusch was something that would leave deep scars, both on their bodies and souls.
Anger burned Felt's every expression, but hidden beneath was the vulnerability of a girl who had been through unimaginable horrors.
Crusch felt a chill run down her spine. She understood all too well what Felt was saying, for her own nights were plagued by nightmares. Memories of Capella, of the torture, of the despair, of the abuse...they surfaced in her mind every time she closed her eyes, bringing with them a pain that never seemed to completely disappear.
She leaned forward a little, her eyes fixed on Felt, as her voice sounded softer.
"I have nightmares too, Felt. Sometimes it feels like we'll never get over it." Crusch hesitated for a moment, before adding with renewed determination, "But we can't let it consume us. We have to keep fighting, not just for ourselves, but for everyone who depends on us."
Crusch knew she had to be strong, both for herself and for others. As a leader, she couldn't afford to succumb to the darkness that threatened to envelop her. But here, in the privacy of this meeting, she could allow herself to be vulnerable, at least a little.
Felt looked up, meeting Crusch's amber eyes. There was something in those words that resonated deep within her. She knew Crusch was right, but accepting that truth was another story. Fighting? Sure, she had always fought, ever since she could remember. But the battles she had faced so far were different. Fighting monsters like Capella and the Witch Cult was a different thing entirely. It was a war against something much bigger than anything she could imagine, something that made her feel small and powerless.
"Fighting…" Felt muttered, a bitter smile on her face. "Of course, that's what we always do, isn't it? But fighting monsters like Capella and the Witch Cult… that's something else."
Felix, who had remained silent until then, felt it was time to intervene. He approached Crusch, his feline presence bringing a bit of lightness to the heavy atmosphere of the room. Placing a gentle hand on Crusch's shoulder, he said in his usual soft, yet serious voice:
"Nyaa, Lady Crusch and Lady Felt… I don't know how you put up with this, but you are the strongest women I know." There was a sincere tone in his voice, a genuine admiration he couldn't hide. "And don't forget, the Slayer showed up when you needed him most. Not only did he defeat Capella, but he also showed us that we are not alone in this fight."
Felix's words brought a wave of silence to the room as everyone pondered what he had just said. Reinhard, ever attentive, nodded slowly, his expression serious but serene.
—Felix is right. The Slayer has appeared as an unexpected but decisive force. He has given us new hope, something to fight for. — Reinhard's words echoed in the room, filled with a resonance of truth that no one could ignore.
Crusch, absorbing Felix and Reinhard's words, turned her attention to Felt, her amber eyes fixed on the young girl's crimson ones.
— Felt, what do you think about the Slayer? About what he did for us?
It took Felt a moment to respond, her thoughts seeming to wander through conflicting memories and feelings. The Slayer… that mysterious man who had appeared at the darkest moment of her life and who had somehow changed everything. But who was he really? And why had he risked so much to save them?
"He's… complicated," she began, her eyes narrowing as she tried to find the right words. "He's not the kind of person I would expect to save us. When he showed up… it was like all the hate and anger I felt was insignificant compared to what he carried within him. He seemed so full of hatred. Like every blow he struck was fueled solely by the urge to kill. But… at the same time, he saved us. He gave us a chance to survive, to fight another day."
Felt's words brought a vivid memory to Crusch's mind. She had realized it too. The Slayer wasn't just a hero; there was something more to him, something that seemed to be in constant conflict. She remembered his eyes, filled with burning anger but also a deep sadness, as if every action he took was both a relief and a burden. Who was he really? And what was he after?
"What intrigues me most is… why?" Felt's voice dropped to a whisper. "Why would someone so full of hate and anger, someone so powerful, care about saving us both? What does he gain from it?"
The room fell silent as everyone pondered Felt's words. It was a question none of them could easily answer. The Slayer was an enigma, a force of nature who had appeared in the darkest moment and disappeared as quickly as he had appeared.
As Crusch tried to gather her thoughts, Wilhelm, who had remained silent until then, stepped forward, his deep, measured voice echoing throughout the room.
"There are things in this world we cannot fully understand. People like the Slayer… they don't play by the same rules we do." He looked at Crusch, his eyes reflecting years of battle and sacrifice. "But one thing is certain: he carries a deep hatred, a hatred he channels against the Witch Cult. Perhaps that is what drives him, what made him save you."
Crusch remained silent, absorbing Wilhelm's words. She knew that the Slayer was much more than he appeared to be. There was a depth to his being, something dark and devastating, but somehow it made him fight for justice, or at least revenge.
"The Slayer… he reminds me of someone I once knew, many years ago." All eyes turned to Wilhelm, waiting for his next words. "A warrior who fought not only to win, but to purge something within himself. The sword he wielded…" Wilhelm paused, as if reliving an old memory. "It was more than a weapon. It was a symbol of his determination, of his desire to end the darkness that tormented him."
— Well, whoever the Slayer is, I think we can all agree that he has questionable taste in clothing, right? The description of his dark, sinister clothes… makes him sound like a villain!
Felix's attempt at humor drew a smile from Crusch and Felt, breaking the seriousness of the moment. But despite the brief relief, everyone knew that the questions about the Slayer needed to be answered.
Felt, however, looked restless, as if something was bothering her deeply.
"I… remembered something," she said suddenly, breaking the silence. All eyes turned to her. "When the Slayer killed Capella, he used a sword… a very strange sword. I… saw him drop it somewhere nearby, but in the confusion, I couldn't pay attention to where."
Crusch frowned, puzzled.
"A sword?" she asked, trying to remember any relevant details she might have forgotten. "Are you sure about that, Felt?"
Felt nodded vigorously, his expression becoming more serious.
"I do. And it wasn't an ordinary sword. There was something different about it, something… powerful." She looked directly at Crusch. "If we can find that sword, maybe we can learn more about the Slayer. Maybe it will help us understand who he really is, and why he did what he did."
The air in the room seemed to charge with electricity at Felt's revelation. The possibility of finding a concrete clue about the Slayer was tempting, almost irresistible.
Crusch exchanged a quick glance with Wilhelm and Felix, both of whom seemed equally intrigued by the prospect.
"We need to look into this," Crusch declared, her voice firm and resolute. "But we can't do it alone. We need the other candidates, all the help we can get."
Felt nodded, a determined glint appearing in her eyes.
— I agree. Let's meet with the others and decide how to proceed. — The young rebel seemed more determined than ever.
Reinhard, ever loyal to Felt, stepped forward.
"I'll be by your side no matter what," he said, his voice filled with unwavering loyalty.
Felix, ever the peacemaker, smiled slightly.
— Looks like we're in for a long journey, nya. — he said, trying to ease the tension in the air.
Wilhelm, for his part, mentally prepared himself for what was to come. He knew that this search for the sword could be dangerous, but he also knew that it was necessary to unravel the mysteries surrounding the Slayer.
Crusch stood up from her chair, her posture straight and imposing. Looking at everyone in the room, she declared with conviction:
—Then it is decided. Let us meet with the other candidates and plan our next move. The truth about the Slayer and this sword can no longer be hidden.
With these words, the meeting ended, but the determination in their hearts had only just begun to grow. The events that would unfold from that moment on would lead them down dangerous paths, but would also bring them closer to the truth they so desperately sought.
After the meeting, as Felt and Reinhard left the room, exchanging a few words in low voices, Crusch remained seated, her eyes following their movements until the door closed behind the pair. The silence that followed was thick, laden with unspoken thoughts. Wilhelm, who was still in the room, was preparing to leave as well, but Crusch stopped him with a slight gesture of her hand.
"Wilhelm." His voice was calm, but there was a firmness in it that Wilhelm recognized immediately. "I would like to discuss something else with you, if you don't mind."
Wilhelm stopped immediately, turning to face her. He could see in Crusch's eyes that there was something serious she wished to discuss, something that went beyond strategy and next steps. He gave a small nod, indicating that she could continue.
"When you talked about the Slayer and the man you met in the past…" Crusch began, carefully choosing her words. "I couldn't help but wonder if you were actually talking about yourself."
Wilhelm was silent for a moment, his sky-blue eyes meeting hers. He wasn't surprised that Crusch had made the connection; she had always been perceptive and rarely let anything go unnoticed. But even so, there was a hesitation in him, a reluctance to reveal more than he had already said.
— Milady… — Wilhelm began, his voice deep and heavy with memories of the past. — In a way, yes. The man I was in the past is not the same man you know today. There was a time when my life was defined only by the edge of a sword, when each battle was a way to alleviate the darkness within me.
Crusch leaned forward slightly, her hands clasped together in her lap. She knew she was about to hear something important, something that could not only shed light on Wilhelm, but also on the enigma that was the Slayer.
"So, the Slayer…" She hesitated, watching Wilhelm's expression carefully. "Does he look like who you were?"
Wilhelm took a deep breath, pondering what Crusch had asked. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, as if he was revisiting long-buried memories.
"In many ways, yes," he finally admitted, opening his eyes to look at her. "But there is one crucial difference. In my case, I found someone who helped me out of that darkness, who gave me a new reason to fight."
Crusch felt a chill run down her spine at the words. She could feel the weight of truth in them, and what it meant for all of them. The Slayer, this mysterious savior, could very well be a man on the brink of collapse, battling his own demons.
"So, you think he didn't find what you found?" Crusch asked, her voice soft but filled with concern.
Wilhelm paused before answering, his gaze softening a bit.
— I believe he is still looking for it, but has not found it yet. We need to be prepared for when we do, milady.
Wilhelm's words resonated deeply with Crusch. She could see that he spoke not only as a seasoned warrior, but as someone who had been through a similar experience. This made the situation all the more serious. Crusch knew that their mission was important, not only to understand the Slayer, but perhaps to save him, just as Wilhelm had been saved.
"Thank you, Wilhelm," Crusch said, her voice full of sincerity. "Your words have given me a lot to think about. We need to find the Slayer, but we also need to be prepared for whatever we might encounter when we do."
Wilhelm bowed his head in a sign of respect.
— I will always be by your side, milady. — He replied, his voice firm and sure. — Together, we will find the answers we seek.
With that, Wilhelm left the room, leaving Crusch alone with her thoughts. She knew the journey ahead would be difficult, but she also knew she had people she could trust by her side, who understood the gravity of the situation. Now, more than ever, she was determined to discover the truth about the Slayer and the role he would play in their destinies.
Was the Slayer really the hero everyone believed him to be, or was there something darker behind his actions? Felt, meanwhile, was fighting her own demons, trying to understand what she really felt about that mysterious man. And Felix, always so concerned about others, wondered how he could protect Crusch from this new threat that seemed to loom over them.
Crusch's walk through the mansion's corridors was silent, but her mind was racing. She couldn't help but think about everything that had happened since that fateful day in Pristella. The pain, the despair, the feeling of helplessness... All of it was still fresh in her mind, like a wound that would never heal. But there was something else, something that disturbed her deeply. The memory of the Slayer's eyes, that look full of anger and sadness, haunted her constantly. She knew there was something more behind that man, something that needed to be unraveled.
When Crusch finally reached her room, she allowed herself a moment of weakness. She leaned against the door and took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. But no matter how hard she tried, the feeling of unease wouldn't go away. She knew she was about to embark on a dangerous journey, one that might reveal secrets she might not be ready to face.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the mansion, Felt was also struggling with her own feelings. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she looked at her hands, remembering how they had trembled in fear during those desperate moments. But there was something else, something that troubled her deeply. The feeling of helplessness, of not being able to protect herself or Crusch, was something she couldn't bear. She knew she needed to become stronger, but how? The Slayer had shown her how weak she really was, and it filled her with anger and frustration.
— I'm not weak. — Felt muttered to herself, as if repeating a mantra. — I'll prove to everyone, I'll prove to myself, that I'm strong enough.
Those words, though spoken softly, resonated deeply in her heart. She knew she would have to face her own demons, that she would have to confront her deepest fears. And the Slayer… he would be the key to doing so. She wasn't sure how, but she had a feeling that discovering the truth about him would be crucial to her own journey.
While Felt and Crusch struggled with their own emotions, Reinhard stood on the mansion's balcony, gazing into the distant horizon. He too was worried about what the future held. As the Sword Saint, he had always been seen as an invincible figure, someone everyone could rely on. But the events at Pristella had shaken him to his core. The defeat of Reinhard, a man who had never lost a battle, had dealt a heavy blow to his confidence. He knew he needed to redeem himself, not just for himself, but for everyone who depended on him.
And then there was the Slayer. Reinhard couldn't help but wonder who this man was, and why he seemed to carry so much pain and anger within him. He knew the Slayer had done something extraordinary, but he also knew he couldn't ignore the darkness that seemed to envelop him.
Reinhard's determination grew by the minute. He knew he had to find out the truth, not just for Felt's sake, but for himself as well. He had to understand what had really happened on Pristella, and why the Slayer had appeared at this critical moment.
Wilhelm, for his part, was in his own internal battle. He knew that the events in Pristella had left deep scars on everyone, but he also knew that there was something more at play. The Slayer, Wilhelm, despite considering himself similar to him, at the same time knew that they were very different. Wilhelm had seen many warriors throughout his life, but none like this one. There was something about him, something that Wilhelm could not identify, but that filled him with unease.
He remembered Theresia, his late wife, and how she had always been his light in the darkness. But now, without her, Wilhelm felt lost, without a guide to help him navigate these dark times. He knew he needed to find answers, but he also knew that this journey could be more dangerous than anything he had ever faced before.
With these thoughts, Wilhelm headed to the mansion's training hall, where he usually practiced his sword skills. He knew he needed to be prepared for what was to come, and the best way to do that was to focus on his training. The sword was his only constant, the only means through which he could express his feelings and find some form of peace.
The afternoon passed slowly in the Karsten Mansion, with everyone present lost in their own thoughts and worries. But they all knew that no matter what the future brought, they would need to face it together.