Suddenly, a melodic chime rings out beside his ear.
The music flows, weaving golden threads that descend into the shattered dreamscape, guiding your consciousness from deep slumber back into the warmth of reality.
Caw—Commandant's awake! Awake!
What was in your dream? Quick, write it down!
Otherwise, if you forget again, Nirvatia will give me hell, and my gorgeous, flowing locks won't survive another hair-pulling session!
The wind and sand rustle all around. In the hazy landscape, a raven perches on your shoulder, chattering away.
Fine. Got it, boss.
Storm winds roar overhead, tearing at the tent. You rest in the shadow of a massive boulder, facing a tattered camp that shudders and twists beneath the blazing sun.
Sorry, did I wake you up?
A familiar figure steps over the dried grass and scattered rubble, slowly moving into the shadow to crouch beside you.
I couldn't find anything else, so I used my cloak.
He glances at the red fabric draped over you.
He nods slightly, smiling.
Humans are so weird! Your bodies actually go cold when you dream! Sounds like a cool experience!
...I've been wondering... What's with this crow?
The name's Morigan! I'm a raven! Not a crow!
Fine. Got it, boss.
...A pet?
When you don't explain further, Watanabe wisely changes the topic.
Rusty Yoke is still half a day's ride away. If we're lucky, we'll catch up to the Iron Army soon.
He slowly sits down on the empty ground beside you, opening his steel palm.
Inside rests a delicate golden pocket watch. Its gilded surface is carved with intricate patterns that feel too refined for this age of Cataclysm.
This is what my father left behind.
With a soft click, Watanabe opens the pocket watch, and a familiar, melodious tune fills the air.
A black-and-white battlefield photograph is fixed to the watch lid. It shows a woman on the left, a man in the center who resembles Watanabe, and an imposing figure with eyes full of determination and intensity.
On the left is Crane, my mother. As for the one on the right...
Death of Iron, former Vice Generalissimo of the Iron Army.
Watanabe's brow furrows slightly as he speaks his enemy's name.
Gyrfalcon and Crane... my parents... along with Death of Iron, were known as the "Three Ashfire Heroes" even before the Cataclysm. They united and led the Iron Army against Demons born from the Rift of Chaos.
After the Cataclysm, humanity's enemies changed from Demons to the very Angels of Sanctuary. Yet, even against these savage, bloodthirsty Angels, the Iron Army never wavered in its duty to protect the mortal world.
...My mother also fell for that cause.
He falls silent for a moment, gently tracing his finger over the thin glass, over that era of the Army's glory.
Death of Iron, who once charged alone into Hell, was controlled by an Archangel in a brutal battle and became a Sanctuary agent hiding within our Army.
...And I've already told you the rest of the story.
Covenants are curses carved into human souls. They awaken certain desires within the host and eventually fuse completely with them. Just like the Blood Covenant between you and me.
Instead of saying he is controlled by the Sanctuary, it's more accurate to say the Angel's curse has fully consumed Death of Iron's conscience and seeped into his bones and blood.
Killing him is the only way to sever his connection to the Sanctuary and stop him from helping the Angels in their crimes.
This is Watanabe's conclusion after reading countless texts and fighting Death of Iron in battle himself.
...I will personally cut down the covenant binding Death of Iron, not just for my father, but for all the warriors and comrades who fell to both Demons and Angels.
This is a war of freedom against oppression. The banners and blades forged with our fathers" blood must never be crushed like this.
The knight looks up at the crimson sky, reaching out as if to grab the eternal blazing sun in his palm.
He has now awakened a demonic power strong enough to stand against a Sanctuary agent.
And what about you, Bloodsworn? Why have you gotten mixed up in this war?
Watanabe turns to look at you with curiosity.
...I see. No wonder you borrowed that name.
Your codename, "Gray Raven."
"Gray Raven" is the first Generalissimo of the Iron Army, a human Hero from before the Cataclysm.
Weird... That's a legend you've never heard of before.
...?
Watanabe shows a rare look of surprise at your response.
So did you inherit that title from someone? Like how titles are passed down in the Iron Army.
...That's strange.
What about before that? How did you obtain this power?
...Please...
You try to recall your past, but all you can do is piece together fragments of shattered memories.
...This is the price of becoming a Bloodsworn.
...
No matter how hard you try to dig into your memories, all you find is a void of emptiness.
Everything about the past feels buried. Only your hatred for the Sanctuary remains, driving you forward.
Perhaps forgetting your past is the "price" you're paying?
Could it be related to that "companion" of yours?
He says as he looks at the mechanical raven perched on your shoulder.
When you hijacked the Hell Train earlier, an Archangel severely wounded you, and you almost died. She arrived just in time to help you escape death.
She was by your side even before that, giving advice and making plans to help you overthrow the Sanctuary.
Even if you cannot find more about her in your fragmented memory, she is a trustworthy ally in every way.
...Sounds like your past remains a mystery.
Both fall silent, quietly feeling in the desolate winds that sweep across the world.
My father once told me that the more impressive the road ahead looks, the more you have to look back at the path you've walked. Otherwise, you might lose yourself in your pursuit of the destination.
I may not have the right to interfere with the path you choose, but if you ever need me, I will be there to help you stay on track.
He turns toward you and gently places his hand on your shoulder.
Soldiers of the Army never forget those who show us kindness.
Boss! Emergency! Emergency!
The raven on your shoulder suddenly starts cawing at the top of its lungs.
Angel—!
Angel Pilgrims are coming!
Two brown steeds are pulling the carriage at full speed through the desolate valley.
Giddyup! Giddyup!
Behind the carriage, an earth-shaking rumble thunders through the land, drowning out the sound of hooves and wheels crossing the rocky terrain.
Die! Die!
Eyeballs, fingers, hair, and slaughter!!
A dozen pale-skinned giants scurry on the ground behind the dust cloud raised by the carriage. Using both hands and feet, they quickly close in on their prey.
We're doomed! They're going to catch us!!
Damn it! How did we run into so many Angels? Has the town been "marked"?
Ugh... Ahhh...!
Trembling sobs rise from behind the young man.
But... but it's only been eight months...
S-sir! Could you please drive a bit slower? She... she's about to give birth!
Please hang in there a little longer! We're almost there!
The carriage suddenly starts going down a steep slope, and the entire car shakes violently.
—Ahhh!!
Die!!! Rot!!!
The pilgrims suddenly burst into terrifying shrieks that echo sharply through the canyon, as if excited by their prey's wailing.
...What should we do?
The young man glances at the firearm beside him. Carved into its wooden stock is a majestic, double-headed eagle emblem.
If Mister Watanabe were here...
He takes a deep breath, reaches out, grips onto his weapon, and shouts at the carriage.
Hey! You come hold the horses, I'll—
Rargh!!!!!
A raven's sharp cry suddenly echoes through the valley, cutting off the man's words.
BOOM—
The moment the carriage bursts out of the valley, explosion sounds thunder behind them.
The earth shakes and mountains tremble. Massive boulders tumble down like a landslide, completely blocking the road behind.
What?!
The stunned young man silently stares at the sealed valley behind him and slowly lowers his weapon.
Tch, there's nothing more we can do! Retreat to the town!
Hyah—!
Rargh—?!
Grrowlgh—barf!!!
The Pilgrim at the front breaks, only to be pushed by the Angels behind into a massive boulder. Blood and brains splatter across the ground in a mangled mess.
Ambush! Retreat! Retre—
BOOM—
As the Angel army falls into chaos, another thunderous roar echoes behind you, rumbling through the empty valley like distant thunder.
Through the billowing dust clouds in the distance, a tiny human figure slowly emerges.
...
Just one?
Die! Die!
The white giants regroup and charge toward the <phonetic=Demon>human</phonetic> on the other side of the valley.
Like a pack of wolves homing in on a lone lamb, the pilgrims charge forward, their footsteps pounding the ground and grinding the rubble beneath them to dust.
When they are less than a hundred meters from their prey, the thick smoke covering the valley suddenly clears.
Dozens of firearms appear, their crimson metal surfaces shining with a dazzling radiance.
Angels...
The Demon Knight raises his head slightly, then lifts his blade and points it at the approaching wave of enemies.
Are you ready—
—For war?
