Prologue

The wind blew across the barren plain, kicking up trails of dust that crashed against Haruto Akimitsu’s boots.

He could barely feel the cold anymore. His heavy, gray cloak fluttered behind him, worn thin by the countless kilometers he had traveled and the battles he had fought.

In his hands rested a handmade rifle, carefully cared for. The metal parts had been polished and fine-tuned, much like himself.

In the distance, the capital of the Church of Niowe stood, its white sandstone walls glistening in the faint morning light. Golden ornaments caught the rare rays of the sun, giving the city an almost sacred splendor.

In the center, a slender white tower dominated the horizon. So tall, it seemed to pierce the clouds. But it wasn’t the tower that worried Haruto. It was what was inside. Yet it was supposed to be impregnable, untouchable, and eternal.

At least, that’s what it had always claimed to be. Haruto narrowed his eyes.

At the base of the ramparts, an army stretched as far as the eye could see. The orderly ranks seemed endless, dominated by pristine banners bearing the symbol they had all learned to hate.

He exhaled slowly.

“There are tens of thousands of them… A sea of people ready to defend a lie,” he murmured.

Immediately to his left, the slender, athletic figure of a woman caught his attention.

Her red hair blazed in the light, but it was her pricked ears and fox tail that set her apart. It flicked nervously in the air, while her emerald, catlike eyes scanned the horizon.

“I hope she can control her impulses,” thought Haruto, whose heart quickened when he heard her let out a low growl.

He shook his head to dismiss the thought.

“No. I’m sure everything will be fine.”

Other figures stood behind the young woman with the animal-like features. These humanoid silhouettes had pointed ears and strangely similar expressions. Their bows were already drawn, and their eyes were locked on the city.

Further away, stocky warriors with thick beards and battered armor adjusted their grips on hammers engraved with glowing runes. Their determination was fierce, almost primal.

To his right, a swordswoman with platinum-white hair briefly met his gaze. She gave him a kind smile. Yet the tip of her sword betrayed her nervousness, trembling almost imperceptibly.

“I can tell she’s tense… but if only she could understand that this battle is just one step along the way,” Haruto thought.

The neigh of a warhorse broke the heavy silence. Its rider, clad in shimmering armor, held the animal’s reins with a firm hand. Her ruby-red gaze never left the city.

Behind her, a vast army stretched beyond the horizon. Entire rows of silent soldiers formed an endless sea of spears. Their banners flapped in the wind, bearing the same scarlet coat of arms as the rider’s.

They were all waiting for a signal, believing they were fighting for their freedom. Haruto knew it wasn’t that simple.

His eyes drifted one last time toward the central tower. Behind those imposing walls was the very last stage of his journey.

“After such a long road…” he murmured to himself.

He felt a strange sense of peace wash over him. Then he once again remembered the hunger, cold, loneliness, anger, and faces that had vanished.

But he also thought of every obstacle, every injury, that had led him to this barren plain, where his fate would be decided. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the stock of his gun.

“No matter what lies ahead… I’ve survived worse… yes, much worse. And I intend to survive, if only to uncover the truth and put an end to all of this.”