Chapter 206: Fear Deepens, Cage of Memory

(The recent update schedule has been somewhat erratic, the reason being that I keep adding more and more chapters. Today’s installment continues this trend of aggressive expansion. The previous chapter was touted as the longest ever, only to be surpassed the very next day—how embarrassing. Now, this chapter has officially become the longest in history: thirteen thousand words.)

Pitch-black matter completely enveloped the entire plaza, a profound darkness that left no room for the midday sun to pierce through.

Yet, strangely enough, even in such dim and lightless conditions, those caught within the sphere of the God of Fear’s influence could still perceive their surroundings.

"No light, yet I can see everything... Is that thing the God of Fear? Or is it merely a projection?"

Wang Yu gazed at the top of the black sky, where a colossal entity loomed—a twisted, vast shadow with a lean, spindly torso, contrasted by thick, swollen limbs and neck. Atop that elongated neck sat an utterly disproportionate, oval-shaped head, covered in a myriad of hollow eyes that blinked and scanned everything below.

Wang Yu released his Ripple, probing the black substance that blanketed everything to discern its nature. The feedback he received left him slightly surprised; while it appeared similar to the distorted matter of the Void, it was fundamentally unrelated.

If one had to define it, it was a form of materialized psychic energy, and the emotion contained within was a highly aggressive form of fear. It was constantly burrowing into the souls of those nearby, sowing terror.

The fear birthed by the eroded victims, in turn, fed back into the space, causing the concept of fear within this materialized energy to grow denser and more potent with every passing moment.

Of course, this was ineffective against Wang Yu; thus far, nothing targeting the soul or psychic energy had ever managed to affect him.

"The first wave of the divine descent should have been the most powerful shock of fear. Those civilians and nobles must have been struck. It’s pure psychic energy, not magic—I doubt they have any defense against this. No time to worry about that now; I need to find Edward and Sharl first."

Wang Yu formulated his plan within seconds, abandoning his cumbersome alchemical sniper rifle on the roof and leaping down; he would have no use for that weapon now.

The only target that mattered was the descended God of Fear, though for the moment, it had yet to make any further move.

However, Wang Yu had a premonition: if the concentration of "fear" in the vicinity continued to rise, something exceptionally dire would occur.

"Hm? Where is Sharl?" Wang Yu landed, rolling nimbly to dissipate the impact, then scanned his surroundings. Not seeing Sharl where she had been moments before, he felt a flicker of confusion.

The streets were littered with fallen residents of the Royal City, each face twisted in an expression of extreme terror and panic, as if trapped in a nightmare they could not wake from. Their breathing was heavy—a sound Wang Yu’s keen senses could pick up even from several meters away.

The atmosphere was eerie; despite the God of Fear’s descent, everyone appeared to be sleeping, yet Wang Yu knew this was merely a facade.

The expressions on the residents' faces were beginning to twitch, their teeth chattering together as the sense of dread grew and spread. Once the fear reached a certain threshold, their souls would be unable to bear it, and to escape that boundless terror, their souls would choose death...

Wang Yu did not see Sharl among the fallen. Recalling the entity known as "One" within her, he shifted his target to Edward.

He wove through the plaza, ignoring the civilians strewn across the ground. It was regrettable, but he could not spare the time to tend to these strangers; he was more worried about his acquaintances. He could not save everyone; he was no hero.

Wang Yu moved with great speed, vaulting over railings and walls, arriving at the spot where Edward had been strolling with the cat-girl.

He scanned the dark, heavy environment, let out a soft, surprised sound, and ran toward a figure that stood out conspicuously among the fallen.

The cat-girl was half-kneeling on the ground, tears in her eyes, frantically pushing at the fallen Edward. Her white cat ears were drooping listlessly, her expression one of desperate anxiety.

"Edward, Edward, wake up, please wake up..."

Sufang’s anxious cries sounded jarring in the deathly silence of the surroundings, as did the sound of Wang Yu’s footsteps.

The cat ears suddenly perked up. The girl turned her gaze toward the approaching Wang Yu, her anxiety instantly replaced by a fierce, almost savage look—like a cat with its fur standing on end.

She grabbed Edward’s collar, instinctively preparing to drag him away from a potential threat.

"Ah! Mr. Wang Yu, thank goodness! Please, help Edward!"

Upon recognizing him, the ferocity vanished, replaced by a desperate plea for his assistance.

"Understood. What’s his condition? And are you alright?"

Wang Yu responded, quickly reaching Edward’s side and kneeling to examine him.

His Ripple probed Edward’s body, checking his internal organs and systems. There were no physical injuries. Edward’s complexion was terrible, his face contorted in pain, yet his vital signs were perfectly normal.

"I don’t know. It’s as if he’s having a nightmare—or rather, he *is* in a nightmare, because I just woke up from one myself."

Sufang’s words gave Wang Yu an idea.

"A nightmare?"

"Yes, a nightmare. I felt like I had returned to a terrible time from long ago. I was trapped in a loop in that nightmare for a long time. But I had already made peace with those days; I left that place, came to the human city, saw many interesting things, and met important people. So, in the end, I walked out of it..."

"A nightmare... do you feel afraid?"

"Well, that was probably the most harrowing time of my life. Fear permeated every moment of my existence. But those days will never return, so there is no need to fear them anymore..."

Looking at the pained face of Edward, Wang Yu pulled a syringe from his pocket containing a clear, slightly blue-glowing liquid.

"Whether you’re trapped in a nightmare or not, Miss Sufang managed to walk out of hers, so it’s a bit shameful that you haven’t. Let’s give you a kick-start and see if it helps."

He glanced at the cat-girl. This ordinary flower shop owner in the Royal City possessed a will and courage beyond what most could imagine.

Wang Yu plunged the syringe into Edward’s chest. It was a "Glimmer Potion"—the name had nothing to do with any special meaning on Earth; it was simply named for its faint, luminescent quality.

It was an extremely potent stimulant that would continuously excite the body’s nerves, causing the brain’s activity to skyrocket. It was, essentially, pure adrenaline for the mind.

The body influences the soul, and the brain has the most profound impact on the soul. Wang Yu gave Edward this injection to jolt his soul and force him to wake from his nightmare.

He hoisted Edward onto his back and beckoned to the cat-girl, who was still watching with concern.

"Let’s go. We need to get out of this cursed area covered by fear. Even if you’ve walked out of your own nightmare, the rising concentration of fear here will continue to erode your soul."

Wang Yu’s words made Sufang realize her own state. Her worry for Edward had masked other emotions, but now, as she focused, she felt it: palpitations, dread, and a sense of loss—various negative emotions pushing toward fear were growing and spreading unnoticed.

If she stayed within this range, she would eventually fall back in, not because of her own past memories, but because of this pure, pervasive fear.

Without hesitation, she followed Wang Yu’s lead, and together they sprinted toward the boundary of the god-descended zone.

...

"Ugh, huh?" Edward let out a sudden cry, then rubbed his head in confusion. What was going on? His memory felt blurry, and it felt as if something had violently hammered his head just now. There was something different in his mind, but he couldn't quite grasp what it was.

"Thwack!"

"Ouch!"

A wooden sword struck Edward’s forehead hard. The stinging sensation brought the blonde youth back from his daze.

"Edward, what are you spacing out for? This is a sparring match! If this were a fight against a barbarian, you’d have been split in two by now..."

The youth sparring with him looked speechless, clearly dissatisfied with Edward’s sudden lack of focus.

"Ah... sorry. I just suddenly thought of something and got distracted."

Edward rubbed his still-aching forehead, looking at the youth before him, who shared a six-or-seven-part resemblance to him and sported the same golden hair.

The other boy was Waltz Leonardo, the only son of the Northern Duke, Leon Leonardo.

Edward’s father was the fencing instructor at the Duke’s estate, a former veteran of the Duke’s army who had retired due to injury. With his seasoned experience and formidable combat skills, he had become the tutor responsible for teaching the Duke’s son and the guards.

Edward had grown up in the Duke’s estate alongside his father. Because they were close in age, he and Waltz had become fast friends, frequently sparring together. Both possessed great talent, and their strength was among the best of their peers.

"In battle, you must always be fully focused, whether you are a mage or a knight. Isn’t that what your father taught me? Why are you spacing out? Forget it, let’s end the sparring for today. Sparring without focus will only cause our skills to stagnate."

Waltz shook his head, tossed his wooden sword aside, gestured that he was done, and headed toward the exit of the training ground.

"Fine." Edward placed his wooden sword back on the rack and nodded in agreement.

"Let’s go, let’s go. I’m starving. Let’s hurry and find something to eat. Come on, let’s go to the kitchen and have Aunt Remy give us extra food. Don’t listen to your father and mine about 'controlling your diet to train your body.' If you’re hungry, you eat—understand?"

"Yeah, yeah..."

Edward nodded as he followed Waltz, looking at the familiar scenery: the world of eternal white outside the windows, the howling wind that even the thick castle walls couldn't fully muffle, and the people who had long since grown accustomed to these northern traits and could fall asleep regardless of the conditions.

He felt a bit strange. He had lived here his whole life, so why did it feel as if a long time had passed? He clenched his fist. Edward Volin, what is wrong with you? You aren't usually one to think about such nonsense.

"Hey, what’s wrong with you? You’ve been acting weird since earlier. Did you hit your head on that tree this morning? What are you thinking about, standing there all by yourself? I’ve never seen you so brooding before."

Suddenly, while Edward was lost in thought, a fist slammed into his chest, nearly knocking the wind out of him. Then, an arm draped over his shoulder, accompanied by Waltz’s dissatisfied voice.

Waltz, looking displeased, stared at Edward’s bewildered face for a moment, then clicked his tongue.

"You look like you haven't fully woken up yet. What were you doing last night, Edward? Sneaking off to look at cats again? Try to focus on something serious. I am destined to become a Grand Duke, a powerhouse who will defend this land and its people. And you, you are to be my right-hand man, my loyal lieutenant, right? How can you go on like this?"

Watching Waltz gesture at him with such smug self-importance—completely lacking the grace of a Grand Duke’s son—Edward felt a strange sense of déjà vu, though he could not place its origin.

He rubbed his chest where he had been shoved; it ached, and he felt it shouldn't have hurt quite so much.

"Xia..." A name hovered on his lips, but the moment the first syllable escaped, he forgot what he had intended to say, or why he had wanted to say it at all.

"Xia, what Xia? Enough, I know your head isn't clear. Just follow me; eat something and you'll sharpen up."

Seeing Edward still dazed, Waltz was at a loss. He couldn't fathom why his closest companion, who usually lacked grand ambitions or a sense of duty, was acting so strangely today.

"True enough, just following him is fine. It’s always been this way, anyway..."

Shaking his head to cast off the inexplicable sense of déjà vu and the jumble of chaotic thoughts, Edward realized that a boy of seven or eight could hardly have such complex concerns. He quickened his pace to catch up with Waltz.

Along the way, Waltz chattered excitedly about the northern lands, the glorious achievements of his father, Leon Leonardo, and the deep friendship between Edward’s father and the Grand Duke.

"Do you understand what the most important thing for a noble is, eh?" Raising his eyebrows, Waltz looked back at Edward with a wink.

Edward hesitated. "To prot..."

"Ha! I knew you wouldn't get it. That is not how a qualified noble should behave. Let me tell you!"

Before Edward could finish the words that had suddenly sprung to his mind, the excited Waltz had already launched into his own lecture.

"The most important duty of a noble is to protect our people and the land we rely on for survival. Although nobles are generally powerful—like your father and mine, who are both Great Knights—the grain we eat, the clothes we wear, and even the resources we use for cultivation are all produced by our people. We don't know how to build houses; the castles are built by them, and there is so much more."

"In short, the people are vital to us, understand? Though there are some unreasonable, annoying ones, you can ignore them, but the rest must be protected. Just make sure they live a good life."

"We enjoy things they do not, so naturally, we must shoulder responsibilities they do not bear."

Waltz spoke with fervor, pouring his views into Edward. Beneath his exuberant expression, one could see a genuine sincerity.

"What a grand ideal. Truly worthy of the Lion’s bloodline. I suppose I don't need to be that, though. Following behind Waltz, helping out, being a subordinate—that sounds quite nice..."

Looking at this radiant son of the Grand Duke as he spoke of his ideals, Edward felt a flicker of respect, a touch of envy, and a great deal of approval.

He knew he could never be like Waltz, nor could he shoulder such heavy burdens, but following the right person and offering whatever support he could seemed like a fine choice.

"Hey, what are you smirking at? Are you even listening? Summarize what I just said."

Noticing the smile on Edward’s lips, Waltz stopped, looking at him with feigned dissatisfaction and demanding a summary.

Edward pointed to himself, looking flustered.

"Me...?"

"Yes, you! Good heavens, have you really been listening to all this without a single thought?"

Waltz ruffled his golden hair in frustration, speechless at his companion’s uncharacteristic dullness today, especially since Edward usually played along so well.

"With great power... comes great responsibility?" Edward hesitantly voiced the phrase he had dredged up from some forgotten corner of his mind, spoken by someone who seemed quite peculiar.

"Hmm... you were actually listening. I think there’s some truth to that. But if someone expects me to do the work without giving me the corresponding benefits, I’d definitely punch them! So, the more power, the more responsibility—that’s right. Hey, not bad!"

Waltz pondered for a moment, then happily clapped Edward on the shoulder, causing another jolt of pain, pleased that Edward had finally shown a spark of wit.

"Alright, alright, we're at the kitchen. Heh, wonder what’s good today. Come on, come on, I want some pheasant—that’s a rarity..."

Waltz walked toward the kitchen with his head turned toward Edward, failing to see the person standing in the doorway until he collided with them.

"Ouch! Sir Wolin? You... why are you here?"

Seeing who stood before him, Waltz froze, looking every bit the mouse caught stealing cheese by the cat.

"As if I don't know what you’re up to, sneaking into the kitchen every day, never taking my teachings to heart, and dragging my son down with you, eh? Who says you’re the son of my old commander? Don't be so formal; just call me Teacher."

Edward’s father was a sturdy man with only one arm. He wasn't particularly tall, but he was lean, strong, and powerful. That he could serve as the Grand Duke’s sword instructor despite his missing limb was a testament to his immense personal skill.

He didn't look particularly angry, merely tapping Waltz on the head, making the boy wince.

"Yes, yes, Teacher, I was wrong. Is there something you need? Are you looking for Edward? He’s right here." Waltz, clutching his head, apologized repeatedly while gesturing to the speechless Edward behind him.

"Enough. I’m here for both of you. Grand Duke Leonardo is out today, and there is a very important banquet tonight. Both of you must attend, so I am taking you there myself, understand?"

"It is a matter of great importance. See that you dress properly. Look at you two, all dusty and disheveled—it’s an embarrassment to the Grand Duke’s estate. Go change, and stop thinking about the kitchen scraps. There will be plenty to eat at the banquet."

Ignoring Waltz’s antics, Edward’s father gave his instructions regarding the important banquet involving the barbarians.

"Yay!" Hearing there would be food, Waltz ignored the rest of the message and cheered, only to be met with a sharp slap to the forehead from Edward’s father.

Watching this, Edward’s lips curled upward; seeing Waltz get his comeuppance was always amusing.

"A banquet..." Edward murmured to himself, yet a sudden, uncomfortable feeling settled in his chest. Something felt wrong—a dark premonition.

However, with no evidence and no warning, Edward dismissed it as just another symptom of the strange day he had been having since morning.

……

By evening, in the Grand Duke’s banquet hall, Edward and Waltz sat together at one side of the massive dining table.

The head of the table was empty; it was the Grand Duke’s seat, but he was absent.

On either side of the head sat the Grand Duke’s wife and his most trusted subordinate, Edward’s father.

The table was laden with food—absolute delicacies. Many of the ingredients were rare magical beast meats, usually reserved for aiding cultivation rather than being served as banquet fare. They looked enticing and smelled divine.

"So hungry, so hungry. When are the guests arriving?" Waltz rubbed his hands impatiently. One could not touch the cutlery until the guests arrived, or the Teacher’s aura-whip would surely come flying.

Watching Waltz’s typical, restless behavior, Edward found himself unable to muster any interest in the food.

Without reason, a vague sense of unease gnawed at him, a creeping fear taking root in his heart. Something was about to happen, something that filled him with dread.

"Why aren't you happy? There’s so much good food here. The stuff we usually eat for cultivation is just... ugh..."

Edward’s abnormality was quickly noticed by Waltz, who knew him well and leaned in to ask.

"I... I just feel like something bad is going to happen," Edward said hesitantly, his eyes drifting toward the banquet hall entrance.

Standing there was someone he knew well: the captain of the guard, a trusted powerhouse responsible for the estate’s security. With his keen investigative skills, no infiltrator or mole could escape his gaze.

"Hey, what’s there to worry about? The security of the Grand Duke’s estate isn't a joke. Besides, if anything happens, I’m here, okay?" Waltz waved his hand dismissively, signaling Edward not to worry.

"Hmm..." Edward nodded, though the fear in his heart did not diminish. With no evidence to support his feelings, he tore his gaze away from the captain of the guard—who had inexplicably drawn his attention—and looked back at the table.

"You..." Waltz started to say something else, but the guests had arrived. He immediately corrected his posture and expression, sitting straight and silent. Edward did the same.

The guests were a squad of knights, likely from another noble territory. Leading them was a tall, long-haired knight clad in heavy armor that obscured his face and body. Even in this setting, his armor suggested a state of high vigilance and combat readiness.

After they were seated, Edward’s father exchanged pleasantries with the leader. "Lord Joseph, how has your lord been lately? Have the barbarians been raiding your side?"

"No." A low voice came from the Great Knight known as Joseph. The sound made Edward’s body shudder abruptly. He felt a deep sense of wrongness; he was afraid of this man, but why?

His father seemed to see nothing amiss with Joseph, and the two continued their conversation. When Joseph picked up his knife and fork and placed a piece of roasted meat into his mouth, the banquet officially began.

Everyone began to eat. The sounds of chewing, the clinking of cutlery, and the occasional laughter made the atmosphere in the hall quite pleasant. Beside him, Waltz’s enthusiastic gorging gradually eased Edward’s fear.

"Truly delicious, so nostalgic... wait, why did I use the word 'nostalgic'?" Eating the delicacies along with the others, Edward pondered these stray thoughts, still feeling that something about him today was fundamentally wrong.

"Is this the son of the Grand Duke? He looks quite promising. Has he begun his knightly training?" Joseph’s voice rang out as he watched Waltz eat.

"He is the future Lion, after all. The heir of Grand Duke Leon, flowing with the Lion’s bloodline. Even as a cub, he is already showing his mettle."

In front of the guests, Edward’s father did not expose his son’s shortcomings as he usually did before the Grand Duke, but instead praised Waltz quite earnestly.

"Mmph, mmph!" With his mouth stuffed, Waltz nodded vigorously, trying to signal that Edward’s father was right—he was indeed that excellent.

"Ha, what a fascinating child. Not quite like Grand Duke Leon, though I suspect your future achievements will be no less impressive. After all, you are the kingdom's future Grand Duke."

Joseph’s laughter echoed through the banquet hall, his words a musing on Waltz’s destiny.

"I imagine so," Edward’s father agreed.

"Then I really must show my appreciation..." Joseph’s voice remained casual, as if he intended to offer some token of friendship.

Yet, it happened with jarring suddenness. "Clang!" The moment Joseph reached into his cloak, he whipped out a razor-sharp longsword, unleashing his battle aura and slashing without hesitation at Edward’s father.

"You!"

Edward’s father’s eyes widened. Had it not been for the reflexes honed by years of training and the constant vigilance of a career soldier, allowing him to barely parry the surprise attack with a dagger hidden in his sleeve, he would have been decapitated on the spot.

"..." Without a word, Joseph unleashed a second strike. This one-armed Great Knight was the greatest threat in the room, save for the captain of the guard.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!" The "guests" who had been enjoying the feast suddenly produced weapons from nowhere, slamming them onto the tables before charging the members of the Grand Duke’s household.

The attack was so unexpected that many of the Grand Duke’s men were caught off guard, their vitals pierced by swords or crossbow bolts before they could react, their bodies collapsing to the floor.

Edward stood stunned. It all happened too fast. The fear that had just receded now rushed back like a rising tide. Had his terrible premonition come to pass in such a way?

But why? Why would they launch such an attack?

"Idiot, what are you staring at? Get down!"

A powerful force shoved him, and Waltz’s voice rang in his ear. Edward was slammed under the table, his body hitting the floor with a jarring thud; the sharp pain brought a momentary clarity to his mind.

"Quick, crawl inside! There’s a secret hatch under the table. I don’t know what’s happening, but this is not something we can get involved in!"

Pushing Edward, Waltz crawled toward a spot beneath the banquet table, pulled a small mechanism, and revealed a hollow space. They jumped in together and sealed the wooden panel shut.

In the banquet hall, the conflict raged on. Many of the Grand Duke’s household had already fallen, including the butler who had served for years.

Regaining their composure, the survivors took up their weapons to face the treacherous guests, the atmosphere thick with lethal tension.

"What is it you want..." Edward’s father shielded the Grand Duchess behind him, confronting Joseph, who was also a Great Knight.

"..." Still silent, Joseph merely circled the one-armed man, his longsword poised, searching for an opening.

Edward’s father narrowed his eyes, wary of Joseph. His formidable combat prowess hadn't vanished with his arm; it had merely diminished.

He would give Joseph no opening. Whatever their goal, once the captain of the guard arrived, these invaders would be no match for them.

In his peripheral vision, he didn't see Edward or Waltz. The two boys must have hidden in the secret compartment. He just needed to wait for the captain; he could already hear the footsteps.

"We have reached a pact with the barbarians. We help them take the Grand Duke, and they help us secede from Alastair, granting us half of the North. The Grand Duke you serve is likely already dead at our ambush site."

Joseph, silent until now, spoke, and the information was so staggering that Edward’s father’s heart skipped a beat.

Seizing the moment of distraction, Joseph lunged, his blade aimed straight for the man's chest.

"Ding!" The longsword was caught firmly by Edward’s father’s single blade. No emotion could distract him in the heat of battle.

With a cold, piercing gaze, he looked at Joseph. He would extract everything he needed to know once he and the captain took Joseph down. This was no time to worry about his old friend and superior!

"Pfft!" The sound of a blade piercing flesh. "Squelch"—the blade twisted, shredding internal organs. The cold, resolute eyes turned to disbelief. Edward’s father turned his head to look at the captain of the guard.

The captain, head slightly bowed, had driven his sword into the man's back, twisting the blade to maximize the damage. This trusted Great Knight had betrayed them.

"You..." Blood bubbled from his lips; Edward’s father could not believe the sight.

"Sorry... ugh!" Before the captain could finish his low-voiced apology, a flash of sharp, blinding steel swept across his throat.

He clutched his neck, but blood sprayed uncontrollably. Life drained rapidly from the Great Knight.

It seemed like a mere throat-slitting, but in truth, the spine had been severed entirely. The headless corpse collapsed, revealing the body of Edward’s father, whose eyes remained wide open in fury, his own life already extinguished.

Inner Potential: Death’s Requiem. The closer to death, the stronger one becomes. This was why Edward’s father had survived losing an arm.

In his final moment, the Inner Potential allowed him to break through to the Legend rank, using his last ounce of strength to slay the traitor before he could enjoy the fruits of his betrayal.

Casting a cold glance at the dead, Joseph, with his Great Knight strength, began a massacre. The Grand Duchess and the remaining servants were all slaughtered, the banquet hall stained with blood.

"Where is the Grand Duke’s son?" Joseph asked the other knights after finding no sign of Waltz.

"My lord, there must be a hidden compartment. We didn't see them leave, so they must still be here. We’ll smash everything until we find it."

"Do it!"

"Bang, bang, crash!" The violent sounds of destruction echoed outside as furniture and walls were shattered by the knights searching for the boys.

"Damn it, you were right. How did you know this would happen? I’m sorry I didn't believe you!" Waltz whispered in terror, huddled against Edward, who was clutching his head in despair.

"I don't know, I don't know, I don't know..." Edward just muttered, unable to think.

Fear consumed him. His father was dead—he knew it. If they were searching, it meant his father had fallen. His powerful father...

They were going to die too. In this crude hiding spot, they couldn't survive. Boundless fear locked Edward’s mind; he could only tremble.

The sounds grew closer. The invaders, having cleared the room, turned their focus back to the floor beneath the banquet table.

"Boom!" The ground shook. They were tearing up the floor. The vibrations against the wall made tears spill from Edward’s tightly closed eyes. It was over. They were going to die.

"Damn it, it’s my fault for not believing you. Their target is me. If I go out there, they might leave you alone." Suddenly, two hands gripped Edward’s shoulders, and Waltz’s voice echoed in the dark.

Edward opened his eyes, though he couldn't see Waltz’s face in the pitch-black space. The meaning was clear.

Waltz was afraid too—his hands were trembling—but he wasn't just sitting there. He wasn't cowering like Edward.

"But..."

"No 'buts.' I am a noble, and you are my subordinate. It is my duty to protect you, understand? Stay put! I don't want to die for nothing. Damn it, why am I still shaking? As the future Grand Duke—even if there might not be a future—how can I be afraid?"

Waltz cut him off fiercely. Edward heard a sharp "slap"—Waltz had struck himself to force his limbs to stop shaking.

"Alright... I’m going out. You stay hidden, you hear me!" Waltz opened the hatch, climbed out, and the door clicked shut.

"You wretched invaders! I... ugh!" Waltz’s roar reached Edward, followed by the sound of a blade entering flesh and a body hitting the ground.

"No... no... no..." Edward shook his head, unable to accept that his best friend had died for him.

"What have I done? Why can't I move? It shouldn't be like this."

His heart was filled with terror—the loss of his friend, the prospect of being alone, the fear of being found and killed.

The next morning, Grand Duke Leon, scarred and hollow-eyed, would enter the hall filled with the corpses of his kin, open the hatch, and pull out the trembling Edward.

"You are my son now. You will inherit everything. You will be the new Grand Duke. Do not disappoint me, son."

No! It shouldn't be like this! If he were given another chance and acted like a coward again, he would never forgive himself.

And he would surely be mocked by that person—whoever he was—who was called Charles, and who shared so many traits with Waltz.

"I’m going out too!" A firm hand gripped Waltz’s shoulder just as he was about to open the hatch.

"You can't do anything! It’s meaningless!" Waltz tried to pry Edward’s hand off, but couldn't. Edward’s strength was unnaturally great.

"Regardless, I would rather roar in the face of despair and fight than be a pathetic coward cowering in the dark." Edward’s voice was resolute.

"Fine. That’s my style. Very cool. But, sorry."

Waltz paused, offering a grateful smile, then suddenly lunged his head toward Edward’s. Edward’s head was against the wall; the impact would be enough to knock him out.

"Thwack." The blow was intercepted by Edward, who had anticipated it.

"Not this time..." Edward said firmly. Without giving Waltz a chance to react, he pushed open the hatch and climbed out.

What lay outside was beyond all expectation: a shattered world. There was no blood-stained banquet hall, no invaders, only a chaotic, empty void flickering with strange, surreal visions.

"This..." Edward stood stunned, a sense of bewilderment washing over him; he suddenly realized something was amiss with his stature—when had he grown so tall?

Memories, long suppressed by the influence of the God of Fear, surged back, and with them, the clarity of everything he had lost.

Turning his head, he watched Waltz crawl out from a hidden compartment.

"Yo, look at you, grown so tall. Have you reached legendary status yet? It would be quite embarrassing if you hadn't." Waltz gazed up with a smirk at Edward, who now towered over the version of himself that remained a mere boy.

"My apologies, I am still just a formal knight." Edward scratched his head, a sheepish flush coloring his cheeks.

"Hmm, a bit lackluster, I suppose, but at least you are still breathing, and that is enough. Since it is a rare treat to see me again, do you have anything you wish to say?"

Waltz curled his lip, his tone as irreverent and devil-may-care as ever.

"I have met someone, someone much like you—just as unserious. What do you think of that?" Edward countered, the image of that incorrigible fellow flashing through his mind.

"That is wonderful. Why would I ever mind you finding a true friend? How could I? The future Grand Duke of Lionheart surely needs a couple of capable subordinates—no, scratch that—loyal brothers, doesn't he? Just don't let her end up like me. And though it was I who knocked you unconscious, stop thinking of yourself as a coward. Do you understand? You have the mettle; you are worthy!"

"Thank you. Then, farewell!" Edward looked down at the shorter Waltz with a gaze of profound relief and extended his palm.

"Farewell!" With a smile of quiet satisfaction, Waltz clasped his hand firmly with that of his grown-up dearest friend.

As their palms met, the cage of memories, constructed entirely from the power of the God of Fear, crumbled into nothingness.

"Awake?" Wang Yu’s voice broke the silence; he had already carried Edward a considerable distance on his back.

"Yes, I remember now. I wasn't paralyzed by fear back then; I simply failed to dodge that headbutt." Edward said, leaping down from Wang Yu’s back.

"Well, regardless, it is good that you are awake. We have work to do. The Royal Family, the Night’s Edge, and us—if we do not act, the capital will fall."

Wang Yu did not know what Edward had endured, but it was clear he had laid down many burdens, which was for the best.

Yet, a greater calamity awaited them; high above, the colossal shadow of the God of Fear was expanding, and the "Divine Kingdom" of the deity was stretching its reach ever further.