Dies Irae: Song To The Witch Chapter 8

Epilogue

Song To The Witch

November the 22nd, 1963. Lisa Brenner was having a cup of coffee at a newly opened teahouse in Suwahara City. It was a far more popular shop than the traditional coffee shops that had been gaining traction as of late, but the taste of the coffee here was not bad at all. The person sitting across from her was enjoying coffee like she was, and he was laughing. Although this was no indicator about whether or not he liked the coffee, because he was always laughing.

It has already been a year since then. So, how are your holiday memories, Lisa?

Valeria Trifa, the Divine Vessel, asked her.

If you call that a holiday, travel agencies will want to have a word with you. You know, reputational damages and such.

Lisa answered calmly. Because of her work as the assistant of the Divine Vessel, they are more than familiar enough with each other to the point of getting along like husband and wife. Although both sides know there are things about the other that they will never know, so a fine line is drawn somewhere.

My, putting that matter aside, it is all thanks to Malleus' wonderful wit that our work has become so much easier today... Well, of course we shan't forget the hard work you and Valkyrie did for us.

You don't need to pretend.

One year ago, on Cuba, the Obsidian Round Table showed their power to the United States and the Soviet Union. As a result, they seem to have completely stopped their attempts to intervene. They would rather look away than face an enemy they could never even comprehend. It also appears the outcast witches Rusalka released had found their way to freedom, and ever since then, the number of paranormal cases involving thrillseekers and cultist groups have increased drastically. They do not belong to the Obsidian Round Table, they are products of their home countries. The very creations of their fatherland who desired only for them to save it, for them to cause it this much despair, how very heartbreaking.

Trifa put down his coffee cup that was not even halfway empty, and spoke up.

But I have to say, the fight between the blessed and the unblessed witch was not a very rewarding one. Especially because the unblessed came out victorious...

Shouldn't you be a bit more happy about a comrade's victory?

Oh, but of course I am happy about it. However, not only did she acknowledge the fact that she was unblessed, she also ended the life of her blessed fellows. A necessary act in realizing her own unblessed nature, sure, but it also completely rubs her blessed future into the dirt. Malleus reaffirmed who she is, but also took away from herself any hope of a better future.

If a witch is blessed, that means she is fortunate. A grounded star that has never seen the light of heaven has pulled down the shiny stars like itself. Now, is that not proof that this star itself could never climb to the heavens? It has not yet given up on its spot in heaven, and yet it keeps denying the very phenomenon all the same.

They wanted to join the Obsidian Round Table, they wanted to take our- No, Rusalka's place. From Rusalka's perspective, who pulls down anyone above her and tramples on anyone below her, anyone who would want to take her place would be fresh new blood, and they cannot be allowed to exist.

Lisa stated her personal opinion. Looking back, she felt that the Cuba incident was setup so as to not let Rusalka escape. The same goes for Beatrice, who had a knight like herself prepared especially for her. She seemed to be a target too. Why those two? Now that it is in the past, it is not important anymore, but the question remained in the back of Lisa's head.

It's almost time...

Trifa moved his gaze to the television inside the shop. It did not matter what channel it was on at the moment, because every channel would switch to an emergency broadcast in a minute. The reason these two were even in this shop to begin with was because of the television.

But why this teahouse? Surely there are better and quieter spots to watch?

This one is a colour tv, I want to see this special moment across the entire spectrum.

Although the testing phase is over and widespread adoption has now begun, in Japan of 1963, black and white televisions are still mainstream.

I also want to see the reactions of those who do not yet know, unlike you.

Trifa adjusted the bridge of his glasses. Besides them, there are many people in this shop right now looking at the television. Surely in some tens of minutes, there should be some good reactions to see. What is about to transpire is far too heartstopping for the world to handle.

Beatrice had been looking at Rusalka's back for about an entire year now. That said, there was no visible change in her, even if tens or hundreds of years pass, she would not change physically at all.

Beatrice asked Rusalka;

Is there anything I can do?

I asked you to stick with Bey.

Well he went like "Huh!? You wanna hang around me or some shit!?" in anger, and when I told him why, he left to Vietnam, saying interesting things were about to happen there...

I guess he never changes. He's also not that great at this kind of work, but considering he came all the way to America for this, and his sense of smell is pretty useful... Oh well, all obstacles have disappeared on their own, I guess you can just go about your way too, Valkyrie.

I'm here now, so I'll see this through to the end.

Really? I guess you have a VIP seat here for a hit that will all be over in a flash, I suppose it would be a waste to just leave.

They are inside the storeroom of a dark warehouse, but because they are on the top floor the view is not bad at all. You should be able to see it just fine from here. Even if it would be over in a flash, there is still some time before the target window, the two remained silent until Beatrice spoke up.

Just what are we doing...

Why, work of course?

I mean, sure... But sometimes I just don't know anymore, what do I even live for? Why am I in the Obsidian Round Table?

Because she wants to save her superior who has fallen into darkness. To do that, she must defeat Reinhard, who had tossed her into that pit in the first place. Even if she does not hold any loyalty for Reinhard, she still belongs to the Obsidian Round Table. But this willpower of hers keeps withering more and more, and she will only keep on letting go of what she holds dear in order to follow orders. Can she really keep this up for some tens of years more and still maintain a healthy mindset?

To complete the transmutation of Gold and reap the rewards, of course.

Rusalka answered nonchalantly. She has been a live for hundreds of years longer than Beatrice. Could that be how she can consider things in such a simple way? Or is that the only way she can tackle issues now?

Beatrice asked again;

Do you have anyone you want to bring back with the transmutation of Gold?

Yeah, myself. I want to become immortal, 'cause I don't feel like dying anytime soon.

Why do you want to live forever?

Rusalka looked lost in thought at this question, almost troubled. If she can so blatantly say she does not want to die, why is she so lost for words?

I have a feeling I had a completely different reason not too long ago, what was it...

Self-destructive behaviour: even with an immortal body, one's soul will still wither. One's heart will lose conciousness more and more, becoming defenseless and making careless decisions. That is practically suicide in a non-traditional form. If Beatrice is worried about such self-destructive behaviour, the symptoms Rusalka exhibits now are surely of similar nature. Does she really intend to live on, having forgotten her true aspirations?

Shouldn't you...

...take some time to try and remember that, then? Beatrice wanted finish what she said, but time would not allow that.

There he is!

The target had arrived, and Rusalka approached the window.

Finally, it's today's mystery time! The target is set, and the hints are all over the place... Let's make this last for the future generations, the world's greatest mystery starts here!

Rusalka could not quite hide her excitement, and Beatrice approached the window to watch the spectacle.

Anyway, Valkyrie. Don't you think it's best to worry about that after we get the big prize? It's better to look at what's in front of us first.

That is nothing more than running away from your problems. Beatrice could not speak her mind. Having forgotten why, but still chasing after your dream of immortality? How very sad, this must be what an unblessed witch looks like.

Even if her own soul is reduced to nothingness, she would never forget about her vow, even if that road is dangerous and foolish. The maiden of war reaffirmed her vow to herself, and took pity on the witch who taught her such a valuable lesson.

In a desolate office, Alfred Der Vogelweide watched the live broadcast that shook the world.

Could the Obsidian Round Table be behind this...?

He never did stop fighting against them, even when everybody around him begged him to give up. He must've been torn about Marilyn Monroe's death, surely. Perhaps somebody close to him who was no longer comfortable having him around had a hand in this... But we'll find out soon enough either way.

How can you tell?

If we look at the motive and execution rationally, all signs would point towards an old fashioned assassination. However, there are simply too many mysteries here, and if we were to make the obvious guess, it would be Obsidian Round Table. I believe it is the latter.

The owner of the office, watching the broadcast with Alfred, answered calmly. For the man who rounded up countless governments and organizations to execute the Cuba operation from last year, he is awfully calm. But that is partly because of the decline in this man's energy and political power ever since then.

President of the United States, John F. Kennedy, slain in broad daylight

It was not just the American people, but everyone in the world witnessed the sight of the American president's assassination. Reports of a serious wound had been coming in, but having been shot in the head, he can no longer be saved.

With this, the world must've completely lost all will to resist the Longinus Dreizehn Orden... After all, even the president was murdered, no matter what kind of military or political power one may have, nobody is safe anymore.

I am not giving up.

Alfred said bravely. There have to still be people left who would never give up, even if their peers all turn their backs on them.

What a promising answer. Then I take it you're going?

Yes, back to Doppeladler.

This is the Eastern Orthodox Church's special divison, better known as the Double-headed EagleDoppeladler. Functioning as one of the members of its undercover division is Alfred, who swore to destroy Karl Krafft and his followers for using heretic magic. The church did not publically want anything to do involving disgusting witches, so they sent Alfred for support.

Thank you, it is with your help that she was able to fight the Maiden of War.

I only taught her what I know. It was by her own strength that she was able to make it this far.

Alfred is a first-rate knight, and Beatrice's fellow student in the past. As he is well aware of Beatrice's technique and bad habits, he taught the eyepatched woman how to fight against her. But in the end Beatrice cut her down.

But I have learned something important from this. It is that I can no longer teach her anything.

Alfred taught and raised the eyepatched woman as a knight, despite her being a witch. By clashing with Beatrice, she had gained a certain purity only to be gained by communicating with her, but Beatrice tossed her aside as a display of her power. She is no longer the maiden he once yearned for, she is now a demon who walks the path of carnage, wearing the skin of a girl.

I understand, but don't rush it. Use our intel and wait for the right time to strike. They will weaken more and more, wait for the right opportunity and get them in one strike.

Data about Ahnenerbe lying in wait all over the world and people who are capable of standing up to the Longinus Dreizehn Orden, all had been transferred to the juristiction of Doppeladler through Alfred, as they are the only people left in the world who can make use of it.

Taking his advice to heart, Alfred raised his hand, and the owner of the office shook it firmly.

You say wait, but I grow older by the day.

So keep training. So that you can shove that sword of yours down their throat, even in your older years, even on your deathbed.

I understand. Let us await the right time, until the end of our lives.

Alfred said his goodbyes and stood up to leave the office, and all he could feel was grief. When he first set foot in this office, it was a place of vigour, now it is empty. This void felt like all of mankind had just surrendered to but thirteen people, and it was depressing. But he himself had not given up yet, he would use what he had learned at Cuba, and use it to defeat the Obsidian Round Table and Beatrice for once and for all, when the time is right.

A demon's strength does not change, but people's strength grows greater as they come together. Alfred paid his respects to those who came before him and began walking his own path.

After he had cleaned up the office, he went home. At the office he was strong and stood on top of the world, but at home he had nothing. And this is not about belongings, he had no family either. Ever since that day, his life had revolved around the destruction of the Longinus Dreizehn Orden, and he gave everything he had to that cause. He had participated in the invasion of Omaha Beach that Rusalka had drenched in blood as a new recruit, and he had seen hell. His comrades and superiors were cruelly murdered one after the other, and when even he himself was about be taken by the Iron Maiden, his superior who would face the same end as him kicked him out and saved his life. And to top off his luck, even Schreiber, dashing across the beach, did not take note of him.

He was one of the few survivors of the Omaha Beach massacre, and when he was finally saved by a rescue party and had come to realize that he survived, what awakened inside of him was neither resignation nor fear, but a newfound will to fight back. As someone who had faced the Obsidian Round Table head on with his brothers in arms, he established business connections, returned to his family that had a wonderful turn to wealth, and used it all up to fund his operations.

In his frantic endeavour, he eventually came to realize he now stood in a position where he was able to prepare counter strategies against the Longinus Dreizehn Orden. This strategy of his involved the simple idea of fighting fire with fire; collecting whatever the Obsidian Round Table left behind, creating witches and taking a gamble. Knowing very well that he may end up creating monsters even worse than them, he took the risk and gambled...

...and the only logical result is that he would lose everything. This entire year since the Cuban Missile Crisis has been to pass the torch to the next contenders. He had passed everything he had to someone else. Well, almost everything. The man unwrapped a package he had obtained from the Ahnenerbe institute, but there was no holy relic inside, just belongings of the deceased. There was a classic male army uniform, a collection of documents and a picture. It was a group photo taken at the institute. Next to the original owner of these items stood a somewhat flustered yet blooming lady resembling Rusalka. This seems to be the real Rusalka the way she looked back then, quite the difference from her almost childlike appearance today.

He tossed these belongings into his fireplace. He heard from his contacts that this man possessed something very valuable to Rusalka, and that besides Ahnenerbe, she had also been tracking down these very belongings. If so, the only right thing to do here is burn them, let her feel what it is like to have things taken from you. As he burned Rusalka's memories, he apologized to the original owner of the belongings, Lotus Reichhart. After all, he had done nothing wrong.

After the belongings had completely burned up, he sat down onto his couch and relaxed. After the failure of such a huge undertaking and the assassination of the president of the United States, he is the only person who should be taking responsibility. He had already prepared a loaded handgun sitting beside him.

For him to have witnessed the Longinus Dreizehn Orden on a large raised platform with their big victory prize in their hands, and the surrender of the world around him that had been so passionate about stopping them, Alfred's unbreakable will yet gave him firm confidence that there are still people out there who will not give up. They ought to all band together, but simply them being around is enough to give him hope. And even if Doppeladler is destroyed, they will simply pass on the torch once more, and eventually man will surpass the demons.

The man would die here, without showing himself to the Longinus Dreizehn Orden, and without appearing in the history books. The Obsidian Round Table's weakness is that they are so powerful they can no longer see their own feet. In that case, if he dies here, they will never be able to comprehend the scope of those who still resist. That day on Omaha Beach, he had come to understand their overconfidence and lack of caution. That is why he can die in peace now, as a nameless man.

The man took a bottle of whisky before the act. He could no longer taste the alcohol that he had last drunk ten years ago. The last time must have been during dinner before the invasion of Normandy that he had participated in. After surviving Omaha Beach, he had even given up the taste of alcohol, and he had no regrets about that lifestyle.

Are you watching, damned witch? And you, wretched demons? A lowly human has condemned you all to oblivion.

The nameless man put down the glass, pressed the tip of his gun onto his forehead and pulled the trigger.

~ The end ~