The event that followed the death of Brain was just as anyone would have expected. Before doing anything else, and in order to avoid unforeseen events, Kaden set out toward the East to kill the remaining members of the Cerveau.

This time though, he did not go alone. He was accompanied by his sister Daela, who, through their travels across the sea of endless yellow sand beneath the stomping hooves of their black horses, never stopped fixing her red eyes on his face as if afraid he might disappear at any moment.

It was not only that. Daela also couldn't stop asking about how he had disappeared last time, and how he had found himself in that strange room with Brain.

It was only then that Kaden remembered the yellow rat. The one he hadn't seen inside that place. And now that he thought about it, the same thing had happened when he arrived at the Nest with Vaela. There too, he hadn't found any signs of the yellow rat.

Curious, and feeling something amiss, he asked Daela if she had seen, that day, any rat swimming in the blood sea but Daela shook her head, certain that no such sight had ever graced her eyes.

And that… that was something to worry about.

Because if he was the only one able to see that yellow rat, then either he was losing his mind, or something was at play. The first option was as ridiculous as saying that life on Earth was the fruit of coincidence.

So… the second option then.

Kaden sighed wearily. He already had the matter of the Devourer of Souls and the Forbidden Alchemist to worry about, he didn't actually need another intervention from some bloody rat guiding him to places where he always ended up dying at least once.

'That damned thing surely wants me killed…' he thought, his face twisting into a low scowl that soon melted back into his usual neutral expression as Daela urged him to answer her question.

At that moment, he only shrugged, giving Daela his usual melodramatic speech about how a Hero always knew how to find himself in situations where he would be hailed as one afterwards.

Of course, he said it in a joking tone, his smile unusually wide, nose pointed at the sky as if disdaining the very sight of the yellow sand below, eyes closed in theatrical flair. But Daela didn't take it as a joke, believing every word her little brother said without hesitation.

The rest of the journey was filled with Daela asking countless questions about how he had defeated Brain…but most importantly, about the song he had sung at the end.

It wasn't the first time Kaden had been asked that question.

Many of the commoners of Waverith had already begged him to write the song down and give it to them. They wanted to learn it — to make it their official song to celebrate the day the battle ended and a bright sun crawled back into the sky, kissing the ruined stronghold of Waverith.

A battle they called The Battle of Blood, done the 1th Octo of the Year 1002, marking the rise of the Child of Blood to his newfound place as the Lord of Blood.

And in the wilderness, where the battle between the Steelbeasts and Waverith had once raged and where the beasts had been routed, that place was now flooded with an ocean of blood.

It was now called The Red Sea.

A place where the blood of the fallen flowed in a strange, circular pattern, spanning roughly two kilometers across, just five kilometers away from Waverith toward the southeast.

The Red Sea was veiled in a crimson mist as thick as stone, enveloping the entire area, where the echoes of battle — the clang of steel, the screams, and the cries of pain and despair — could still be heard from afar.

It had become a forbidden place.

A place no one dared to step into.

But rumors were already circulating, saying that it was a place only the Lord of Blood could enter without risking his sanity or being corrupted by the wrath of the dead.

And that was not all.

Aside from Kaden, another subject of rumor arose among the plebeians, whispered stories of a group of crimson-robed beings who had helped the Thornspire avoid complete annihilation.

Eliot Thornspire, Patriarch of the Thornspire family, was said to have been saved from certain death by them. Though his state remained critical, with death still whispering sweetly into his ears.

In the days that followed, people began to discover the numerous Nests of the Cerveau. And within each Nest, there was always a message — written on the walls, the ground, or the ceiling — a pair of eyes weeping blood, with words inscribed beneath them.

"The Harvester."

People began to wonder who these crimson-robed figures were, what "Harvester" meant, and why they had chosen to help.

Many speculations were made. Some claimed they were enemies of the Cerveau from distant lands. Others said they were devils punishing the guilty. And others still invented stories — comforting, ridiculous, and strange — that people told themselves to soothe and amuse their minds in a world they could barely comprehend.

But in the end, both nobles and commoners decided to put the matter aside. After all, it was always easier to focus on things one could see and understand, rather than chase the truth of what one couldn't.

And so…

That was how the Battle of Blood truly ended, after Kaden and Daela slaughtered the remaining Cerveau and finally returned to Waverith.

…

Days had now passed, and the living were in woe.

Kaden stood in front of the window of his new room, crafted by an earth elemental from the Elamin, giving him a direct view of the center of Waverith and of the pit he had created.

His new room was as plain as it could be, with walls and floors made of smooth brown earth. There was a medium-sized wooden bed placed at the far right end of the room, and the necessary furniture to live here for a while, waiting to see how Waverith would now function.

Kaden was not truly bothered by the plainness of the room. His thoughts were elsewhere…on the cost of the war.

Many had died. No, to say many would be vague. Millions had died. Both commoners and nobles. Some by stray attacks, others simply because they were participants in the war.

The soil of Waverith was teeming with blood and corpses, tangled with the rubble of the destroyed buildings.

Even from where he stood, Kaden, with his heightened perception, could hear the cries of those who had lost their loved ones.

The cries of a mother losing her child. The cries of a brother losing his brother… a friend losing a friend… a husband losing a wife… a lover losing a lover… and a child losing his parents.

Outside, you could see people kneeling before corpses, heads bowed, their clothes tattered and stained with blood, tears gushing endlessly as if their bodies were vessels of a bottomless ocean…all while staring at the lifeless forms of those they once knew.

But now, those very same people were dead.

Some buried beneath mountains of shattered stone, their bodies reduced to what only a hound might find pleasing to stare. Others were mutilated beyond recognition, and you could see the living desperately gathering scattered limbs and torn flesh, trying to make their loved ones whole again.

It was revolting.

But humans were not the only victims. Even animals, especially horses, had suffered greatly during this war. Their corpses, too, lay among the dead, already crawling with maggots and picked at by crows.

And yet, even with all this suffering before him, even while staring at this horrid painting worthy of being displayed in the gallery of the greatest demon, Kaden somehow found the death of his master more painful than the death of these millions.

Because his master was someone he had formed a bond with. Someone who had taught him. Someone who had helped him give birth to the Will that had allowed him to win this war.

Yes, it was because he had shared genuine, positive feelings with the Slave. But with Waverith? It was hard to admit…yet Kaden barely cared for any of them. That was why the death of all these people, to him, was just… statistics.

Statistics that would be passed down through history to show the vileness of the Battle of Blood. But none of those numbers would ever do justice to the thick cloud of desolation that now shrouded all of Waverith.

But still…

Kaden might not have felt sympathy, but his empathy was undeniable.

He smiled wryly as he saw, from afar, Eimi helping a young girl who clutched the body of her dead mother, tears streaming down her face like the endless ocean of blood that flowed in the Red Sea.

Her mother had found peace in death. But the child… she would not find peace so easily. She would live broken, a casualty of a war born from the arrogance of the powerful.

"When war ends… only the dead are at peace," Kaden muttered suddenly, the words piercing something deep inside him.

He closed his eyes and let his perception wander. He pushed it to its limit because he wanted to see them. He wanted to feel them. He wanted to understand them.

And in a way… he wanted to soothe them.

And it seemed the gods had heard that wish for just before him, where the gaping pit stood unchallenged, a young girl began to sing along its jagged edges.

She was a dark-skinned girl with red locks as crimson as the blood flowing down her cracked forehead. Her eyes were the same deep ebony as her skin.

She stood beside the pit, her bare feet dancing upon the broken rocks, blood trickling down from her soles, yet she didn't care. She only smiled, moving her hands in the same way Kaden had when he created the dragon.

And she sang.

And she sang the Song of Fire and Blood.

The ruined, the grieving, the weeping — all of them began to quiet, listening to the beautiful voice of the young girl who soothed the hearts of the anguished with nothing but her song and the radiant smile on her face, a smile that seemed to chase away the heavy cloud of despair surrounding them.

She did all this… even though her eyes were blurry, and rain threatened to fall.

Kaden watched her, his gaze unconsciously warm. He closed his eyes and listened to the song.

For some reason, he liked it better when this young girl sang it.

'Though, golden voice is still better than all of us,' he admitted inwardly, accepting the superiority of Sora in her own song.

But his tranquil moment was interrupted as he sensed the presence of someone just outside his room.

That person seemed hesitant to enter, her heart loud, her breathing uneven. He smiled faintly, already knowing who it was. Then, parting his lips, he spoke:

"Are you going to stand there for long…"

He paused, then added softly…

"…crybaby."

—End of chapter 271—

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