<size=55><i>"For those who need war, war is virtue.</i></size>
<size=55><i>For those who have lost all hope, war is just."</i></size>
The blazing sun soars overhead, melting the boundless desert into a lake of shimmering gold.
The howling wind shrieks like burning blades, tearing through the crumbling yellow sand and cutting out a flat patch of ground in the wasteland.
The sandstorm gradually subsides, and on the vast wasteland, two figures slowly emerge. One stands behind the other, the scorching sun at their side. They are facing each other like arrows drawn and ready to fire.
When the pocket watch stops, open fire.
The man in the crisp military uniform extends his left hand and starts the timer.
With a click, a melodious tune begins to play, like a trickling stream in an oasis, flowing peacefully across this barren wasteland.
...
Facing the man in uniform is a gray-haired young man with an equally muscular build.
...At the end of all of this, Death of Iron, you still owe me an explanation.
He holds back the rage burning in his heart. His right hand slowly strokes the leather holster as he quietly listens to the delicate chimes.
You mean, why did I choose to convert to the Sanctuary?
Why did you betray my father?
...
As the melody drifts slowly, the two men's gazes lock in an intense clash.
I thought I taught you the significance of the Iron Army's double-headed Eagle Banner.
The west wind eagle represents strength, and the east wind eagle represents wisdom.
Only those with both wings can bear the heavy responsibility of the Eagle Banner. Shin has gone too far down the path of the west wind. His shortsightedness will destroy the glory that generations of the Iron Army have sworn to protect with their lives.
The Iron Army today colludes with the Sanctuary, slaughtering people across the land—what glory is there to speak of?
Death of Iron responds with a sneer.
Only the living deserve to enjoy their achievements—that's how I differ from Shin.
His shortsightedness will doom the entire Army, but I will lead it on the right path. Even if the Sanctuary's "Judgment" falls, the Army's Eagle Banner will still fly proudly.
Stubborn... puppet!
At that moment, the music from the pocket watch stops.
Watanabe reacts with lightning speed. He throws up his cloak and draws the revolver from his right hip—
Bang!
Searing bullets whistle through the air, erupting in sharp, thunderous cracks.
Piercing the skin, scorching the flesh and bone, blood spatters everywhere.
Gahk—!
Watanabe spits out a mouthful of blood as his pistol slips from his hand. He trembles as he drops to one knee.
Death of Iron, though drawing his weapon a split second later, pulls the trigger just before Watanabe.
...A seasoned warrior's instincts are far more reliable than a rookie's reckless impulses. Consider this your final lesson.
Such are the instincts honed by the generalissimo who bears the name of iron, forged through years of military campaigns.
Sadly, when it comes to combat skills, you never inherited Shin's talent.
Shut up...
Enduring agonizing pain, Watanabe grips his blade tightly and struggles to his feet, staggering step by step toward his enemy.
You're not worthy... to speak his name...
Fierce wind sweeps up coarse dust and sand once more, gusting across the blood-soaked road.
Everything I've done has been for the Iron Army.
Amid the swirling sand and debris, Death of Iron watches the figure stagger and coldly raises his saber.
Traitor... Traitor!!
Don't blame me, Watanabe—
The cold blade descends from above, slicing through the curtain of sand and severing Watanabe's left arm.
Blood gushes forth in a violent spray, instantly turning both men's clothes crimson.
A gray world closes in like a crushing tide, obscuring Watanabe's vision and draining his last bit of strength.
Ugh...
The avenger falls victim to their enemy, collapsing in defeat upon the scorching earth.
...
At the end of the haze, Watanabe once again finds himself at that shattered crossroads.
Where is...?
Watanabe stands before a white tent as many blurred figures brush past him, their faces indiscernible.
Following the sound of arguing from inside the tent, he gently lifts the white fabric.
We only have thirty minutes until the Sanctuary's edict. There's no time, Gyrfalcon.
...
The Iron Army is the defender of the Scorched Borderlands against disasters and demons. I will never allow the Army to turn its guns on the people of this land.
My silence is my answer. The Iron Army refuses to work with the Sanctuary, and we certainly won't assist them in slaughtering civilians.
You're not the first person to defy the Sanctuary. Now the Angels will kill us all.
No, we will strike first against the Sanctuary.
The silver-haired man slowly lifts his head and makes his final decision.
Are you going to rush in like a fool and get yourself killed? Humans are no match for the Angels. Every rebellion we've started has ended the same way.
The moment an Angel so much as looks at us, we freeze in place, helpless like lambs to the slaughter.
Those with strong will can resist the Angels' mind control. You've already proven that, Ballard.
Shin, out of 113 men in the entire grenadier company, I'm the only one who made it back alive!
Death of Iron lunges forward and grabs tightly onto Shin's collar.
What did you say? Strong will? No, it was "Him"! The "Archangel" left one alive to bring you the news!
You have no idea what happened. In the blink of an eye, every one of my brothers was struck down by a bolt of lightning—straight through the chest!
...We have the god-slaying "Halo Bullet." No matter how powerful that "Archangel" may be, we still have a chance.
Gyrfalcon forcefully breaks free from Death of Iron's grip and turns his gaze toward the depths of the tent.
A bullet hovers above a golden candlestick, glowing with a blue light all around it.
That is the sacred relic passed down through generations of the Iron Army. It was this "Halo Bullet" that killed a Cardinal Deity.
Besides... if we also give up...
Who else can the people of the Scorched Borderland count on? What would all our fallen comrades' sacrifices be for?
"Crane" and everyone else who gave their lives did so to uphold the honor of the Eagle Banner. Do you really believe they would support your plan to lead everyone to their deaths?
Watanabe, send my orders to headquarters: All forces, prepare for battle. Get ready to move at once. We will launch a full assault on the Sanctuary.
He suddenly turns his gaze this way.
Father...
Watanabe falls silent, like his past self, quietly witnessing the start of all tragedy.
Shin! Are you going to throw away everything we've built in the past thirty years?
Ballard! This is a military order!
...
The cold click of a spinning cylinder rings out.
I didn't want it to come to this.
Death of Iron draws the weapon from his waist and aims the barrel at Gyrfalcon.
Listen carefully to every word I'm about to say, Shin.
A golden gleam surfaces in his eyes, and his voice becomes heavy and unfamiliar.
...
Humans are different from demons. Mortal bodies with hearts cannot resist divine mental domination. This is our innate flaw, just like how Demons never fall into slumber.
You're right. Those with strong will can briefly break free from control, but I only managed it for a few seconds.
...In that fleeting moment, I felt as though I endured hundreds of years of torture.
Our flesh and blood bodies are fragile, but the Angels can link our hearts to the Sanctuary, making us Sanctuary agents. Like making a covenant with demons or devils, we gain extraordinary knowledge and power.
A spine-chilling crack echoes through the air as Death of Iron's back splits open. Brilliant "slender branches" slowly emerge.
You... have already made a covenant with an Angel? When?
Gyrfalcon's face hardens with disbelief as he grips onto the gun holster at his waist.
After that massacre, the "Archangel" revealed secrets of transcendent beings to me. I caught a glimpse of the Sanctuary's grand vision, and it was just the tip of the iceberg.
The "tendrils" slowly lift Death of Iron's body. Amid muffled sounds of breaking tendons and bones, they grow and fill the space inside the tent.
The Supreme Heaven wants to cleanse the Scorched Borderland by removing all life. The Sanctuary's Angels are simply agents carrying out this "Judgment."
The Eternal Day, the Living Dead, and the disasters are all part of the plan. But now, They think it's moving too slowly and need someone to speed up the process.
After the Judgment is over, the Sanctuary will lead all Their retainers away from this world to join an even grander and more mysterious Holy War.
If we refuse their grace, everything we value will be destroyed today. But if we accept it, the Iron Army will live on forever in a new form, blessed by the Sanctuary.
Gyrfalcon holds his breath in silence as he listens to his old friend, who seems increasingly unfamiliar.
Shin, what is your answer?
Gyrfalcon remains silent, his brow furrowed, his eyes cold as steel.
You... you're not Ballard.
I can feel it. Your body is now just a shell for another soul... or rather, you have become a puppet of some Angel.
...
Death of Iron stares at him with cold indifference, his lips moving slightly.
"I" am willing to give you this chance only because of "his" last remaining trace of reason.
Gyrfalcon's fingertips are almost tearing through the leather of his holster.
I am the third Generalissimo of the Iron Army, "Gyrfalcon."
I will not make deals with the Sanctuary's puppets!
Both pull their triggers at the same time, and deadly fire erupts.
However, only one bullet finds its mark.
……
Father!!
As the blood mist disperses, the scene fades and vanishes like a weathered mural.
Watanabe has no memory whatsoever of what happened after that.
<size=38><i>When his journey reaches its end, he finds himself floating on a river.</i></size>
<size=38><i>The wound, identical to his father's, gradually drains his consciousness and stains the creek under him red.</i></size>
<size=38><i>In the end, he cannot help but wonder—how should he describe his own end?</i></size>
<size=38><i><b>Shock, pain, sorrow, bitter...</b></i></size>
<size=38><i>Countless words line across the blood-red sky, yet none satisfy him as the answer.</i></size>
Watanabe...
A pale arm reaches out from the sea of blood, gently caressing his face.
The Iron Army... cannot...
At the end of memory lies a hollow death.
His arm slowly sinks, and his body disappears beneath the water.
The foul darkness envelops him once more, slowly drowning his weary soul.
Shin, what is your answer?
Sadly, when it comes to combat skills, you never inherited Shin's talent.
As he sinks deeper and his life approaches its end, he finally catches a glimpse of his true self—
Resentment
Hatred
Anger
Balls of red flames break through the surface of the water, slowly rising into the vast sky above.
Wars. Endless wars.
Suddenly, he spots a blurry figure on the riverbank.
Light breaks through the suffocating darkness as he struggles, reaching for the hope shimmering on the water""s surface.
He nods.
Revenge...
Splash—
The dark river splits with a thunderous roar, and a newborn light falls like a shimmering curtain, lighting up his face.
There, beneath the shining dome, a savior in gray robes stands bathed in radiant light, looking down at him and reaching out a hand.
Revenge.
The scarred soul looks up and firmly grasps your hand.
You do it!
A warhorse's fierce cry rises from the horizon.
The moment his body is pulled from the water, a violent gust lifts the brim of the human"s hat, and Watanabe finally sees his rescuer"s face.
...Who are you?
Gray Raven.
You slowly raise your scarred arm, and from one of the bleeding wounds, countless threads of blood seep out, flowing into Watanabe""s chest like spun silk.
Watanabe feels something surging within him, filling the broken, empty spaces of his heart.
He extends his left arm, reforged from steel, and looks warily at you.
He extends his left arm, reforged from steel, and looks warily at the human before him.
Power never favors the desperate without a price. What do you want from me?
You don't look like an outlaw driven by greed.
...
Watanabe is taken aback, surprised by your bold plan.
But soon, a powerful hatred boils within him. He realizes his personal grudges are mixing with the tragedies of this land, weaving into a vivid tapestry of vengeance.
Their paths converged by chance. Watanabe decides to believe that this hero, who pulled him back from death, has the power to overthrow the Sanctuary.
Anyone else who hears that would think you're some madman with a death wish.
Then he cracks a little smile and extends his hand toward this mysterious yet kindred savior.
An indescribable force surges through Watanabe's flesh and blood. With each pulse, countless crimson muskets slowly rise from the yellow sand.
An indescribable force surges through Watanabe""s flesh and blood. With each pulse, countless crimson muskets slowly rise from the yellow sand.
To hunt an Angel, you must first cut its wings, wait until it's exhausted, then surround It and strike.
To defeat the Sanctuary, we must first destroy the corrupted Iron Army, their most trusted ally.
My duty is to stop the Sanctuary's slander and control over the Iron Army. If you're willing to use my strategy...
Then I'm willing to become the bullet you fire to ignite this war.
The human grasps "War's" hand.
Let's go.
Let us march forth together and scorch the vermin to ash.
<size=50><i>The revelation of war has been declared, and all the kings and ministers in heaven can hear the thunderous roar of people's fury.</i></size>
<size=50><i>Fall upon the mountains and rocks, for even there you cannot escape the raging wrath of the enslaved.</i></size>
<size=55><i>For the day of their wrath has come.</i></size>
<size=55><i>How many can actually hold their ground?</i></size>
