Tristan, who had been standing dazedly, gave an awkward smile.
What on earth should he call this feeling? In this moment, he felt a bit sheepish and embarrassed.
The fact that Anelli seemed to know about his own death, which he himself couldn't even remember, felt somehow a little uncomfortable.
"Anyway, it seems it's my turn to seek repose now."
So Tristan hastily changed the subject.
"Haha. Look at this, Zigore! I really was the one who stood at the vanguard before you!"
Simultaneously, he needlessly addressed Zigore in a cheerful voice. However, Zigore did not respond to his frivolous provocation. The other Dullahans were the same.
Tristan looked at his comrades with a vague gaze and then rubbed his face with his hand. The forced smile vanished as if washed away by a single splash of cold water.
"Tristan."
At Anelli's low call, Tristan's lips twitched.
"I, repose……."
Stammering, Tristan couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence and firmly pressed his lips together.
Unable to conceal his complicated state of mind, Tristan lowered his gaze. Fixing his eyes on the ground at his feet, he finally opened his mouth again.
"...I am not sure if I am qualified to receive repose."
Whether he, who had failed to protect the residents of the outer city and had not properly held his assigned position, truly had the right to receive repose.
Knowing that his blood had been spilled on the streets to no avail, what could someone like him possibly dare to ask for?
"Why would you not be qualified?"
"I did not properly carry out the Captain's orders."
No matter how much he searched his memories, he could not recall crossing swords with the traitor. The memory of leaving his post and returning was also faint, more like a vague afterimage.
"Having protected nothing, how could I dare……."
Tristan, standing blankly, quietly looked down at his own two hands.
In truth, he knew. He knew it was impossible to save everyone. He had known even in the past.
Knowing this, he had left his post. Knowing he couldn't save them, he had run. Knowing his body was in tatters, he had returned, determined to somehow watch over the pass.
It was because he was too greedy. The greed to accomplish everything had produced a result that was neither one thing nor the other.
"You carried out your duty."
Tristan, who had been rambling incoherently, sharply raised his head.
"Although not in a perfect state, you clearly stood in my way."
Samuel, the first knight of the Round Table.
Tristan recognized him. He was the knight who served the Captain with his whole heart, the first strong knight the Captain had taken in.
Because everyone trusted Samuel, his betrayal was all the more shocking and had greater repercussions.
Tristan stared intently at Samuel.
"You were merely defeated by me."
Samuel spoke of a defeat Tristan did not remember.
Surprisingly, those words gave Tristan a small measure of comfort. Hearing the testimony delivered by the very traitor who had cut him down made him think that perhaps his death was not entirely useless.
But that was merely a fleeting relief. Tristan's gaze gradually darkened and sank.
Even if his death was not useless, the images of the outer city residents he remembered did not change. It remained an undeniable fact that Tristan had failed to protect them.
To think that the last scene he properly remembered was of the outer city residents in agony. As Tristan, he couldn't help but feel gloomy.
As if sensing his heart, Anelli spoke in a firm voice.
"No one can question your right to repose. Because I will not allow it."
Anelli's words sounded as if she were scolding Tristan, or perhaps comforting him.
Whichever it was, to Tristan, it was a kind utterance.
"Tristan, I will give you repose. The repose you need."
Anelli extended her hand, glowing green. A warm light shimmered, tempting Tristan.
He could immediately escape from the painful memories tormenting his mind. If he took this hand before him, the goddess's power would lead him to peaceful repose.
Yet Tristan could not readily do so.
What he had tried to protect was now gone. It had all become the past.
Therefore, he too should close his eyes without regret, but he simply couldn't bring himself to do it. Even though his Captain herself had declared that he was qualified to receive repose.
"I don't know who will remember them if not me."
Tristan quietly began to speak.
"If I say I do not wish to lose these incomplete memories, even if they are painful, would that be refusing repose?"
It wasn't a question for which he particularly expected an answer. From the start, it was a question he posed to himself.
Tristan combed through his throbbing head, groping for memories. He still couldn't recall anything like a fight with the traitor.
Scattered throughout his memory were scenes more important than the moment of his defeat by the traitor.
The memories of the outer city residents, barely recovered. Tristan did not want to lose these.
"Captain, I am not sure what kind of repose I desire."
Muttering with a confused face, Tristan cautiously raised his eyes.
Anelli was looking at him with an ambiguous gaze. Her eyes were still brimming with moisture, yet she did not appear emotional in the least.
He could not refuse repose. Perhaps that was an impossibility. Tristan yielded to the calm gaze of his Captain looking at him.
"But since you, Captain, have said you will give me the repose I need, I dare to ask you to guide me."
Tristan decided to trust his Captain. Because she was the Captain who knew of his death, which he himself did not remember.
Because she had declared him qualified for repose, she would guide him rightly. As she had in the past, so too this time.
"I am the eleventh knight saved by you. Though feeble, I strove to engrave and practice your words. Yet, still lacking, I am ashamed to show you this wandering state."
He did not know where the warm green light would lead him. Surely the goddess's power would not push him into hell, but he could not simply wait joyfully for a future he couldn't even gauge.
In truth, though he couldn't voice it, Tristan was afraid now. Of the repose he himself did not know.
He was confused and frightened, not knowing where that power would lead him. But what could he do?
"Please instruct your lost knight."
Tristan knelt on one knee before Anelli. Trembling before his imminent repose, he bowed his head, striving to conceal his fear.
A warm touch reached his forehead.
The jumbled mess in his mind gradually calmed and settled. The power gently enveloped the memories concerning the outer city residents.
The memories of residents screaming and bleeding disappeared, replaced by vivid images of them greeting him with intact faces, bright and cheerful.
Only then did Tristan realize what he desired. And he sensed it.
"Captain……."
Perhaps this warm power would grant him the repose he desired.
* * *
The tears had stopped, but the area around my eyes stung.
It was because I had wiped them too hard. Even without looking in a mirror, I could clearly guess that the skin was red and swollen.
"Hold this against your eyes. I've enchanted it to be cold."
As I was pressing my smarting eyelids with my fingers, a cold sensation touched the area around my eyes. It was an enchanted handkerchief.
When I glanced sideways, I saw Xenon looking at me with worried eyes.
"The tears have stopped."
Xenon, examining my complexion, let out a sigh of relief.
"You cried so much, it startled me."
"Those weren't my tears."
"Huh?"
Pressing the handkerchief received from Xenon firmly against my eyes, I turned my head away.
"That was a trace of a past life."
The castle gate leading to the inner city was wide open.
Staring beyond that open gate, I tilted my head back and saw the towering castle wall high above.
Perhaps the Captain from the past life had looked down at Tristan from up there. Having witnessed Tristan's death directly, she must have been swept up in such intense emotions.
The image of that handsome youth with golden high-piled hair and blue eyes, collapsing covered in blood.
If the aftermath of that time could reach even the present me, one could guess how profound that despair must have been.
Her feelings, having had to watch the death of a knight she had personally taken in right before her eyes……
"Xenon."
"Yes?"
"What do you think I'm doing now?"
"……Huh?"
Xenon seemed not to properly understand my question. I glanced at him briefly, then quietly moved my steps.
The moment I passed through the castle gate, a cool breeze brushed past the nape of my neck. Perhaps it was the chill seeping from the stone walls.
「I don't want repose, Captain…….」
「I am not sure what kind of repose I desire.」
The images of Pallides whispering tearfully and Tristan looking confused passed through my mind in turn.
Returning their heads and bestowing repose.
I had assumed that would be the moment the Dullahans had long awaited. I did it because I had to return the heads to the incomplete Dullahans.
But what if the Dullahans did not want that?
The more I returned the Dullahans' heads and bestowed repose, the greater the confusion became.
What on earth am I doing here now?
'Isn't this also just a puppet-like act?'
What difference is there, aside from who the god is, from Lilia acting as a puppet of birth?
'Am I truly giving the Dullahans the repose they desire?'
Absently looking up at the suddenly closer main tower, I glanced back at the Dullahans lingering a little behind.
The Dullahans who had watched Tristan receive repose were noticeably subdued.
They no longer forced themselves to be boisterous. Even seeing the path into the inner city open, not a single one took the first step.
Among those hesitating Dullahans, the first to take a step was Minte.
[Finally, the inner city.]
Bark sighed at the sight of Minte striding into the inner city.
[Minte…….]
Bark's voice calling Minte's name trembled slightly.
The reason was not hard to guess.
「Soon Minte from the wall will come to support us. If it's Minte, she alone will be enough to hold this place.」
Because Tristan had told them which knight would receive repose next.