Making Waves

My neck strained as I looked up at the Tomb, the imposing peak reaching high into the clouds before me.

No matter how many times I've seen it, the mountain housing the remains of more than a million Deathwalkers always leaves me in awe.

I had worked inside the Tomb several times, gathering caskets and placing them in the cells or graves.

Despite the morbid nature of the entire endeavor, being in the Tomb is quite peaceful.

Surrounded by the marble name stones of the cells built into the walls of the hollowed-out mountain, illuminated by soft overhead lights and countless candles, and accompanied by the sweet scent of incense and flowers, it all gives the feeling of morbid serenity.

And weirdly, I like it. So much so that I often found myself walking into the Tomb whenever I wanted to feel at ease.

I smiled at the thought.

Even Iris was unnerved by this habit of mine.

Incarni! Iris.

Eravon was right. I must see her again, so I should try my best to stay alive.

"Here to spend time with the dead again, Captain Mordred?" one of the Deathwalker guards asked casually.

I smiled. "More like visiting the living. Have you seen Vanis?"

"Ah. Captain Hectus," he gave me a suspicious look. "You're not here for a rematch with her, are you?"

I rolled my eyes. "Word really travels fast, huh? No, I'm not here to fight her."

"Really?"

"Yeah," I emphasized.

He shrugged. "Alright then. She's at Graveyard 8."

Gesturing to some all-terrain vehicles parked nearby, he added, "You could take them to ascend the mountain-"

"I'll sprint," I cut him off and walked toward a winding path built into the side of the mountain.

"Or you could do that," the Deathwalker sighed. "Just don't cause any trouble, Captain."

I waved him off. "Oh, don't worry. I won't."

The snow scattered as I launched myself onto the mountain path.

The frigid wind whipped my face, and my boots crunched down on the thin layer of snow covering the well-maintained road, sending flurries in all directions with each footfall.

Each breath I took chilled my lungs, and the landscape blurred into a passing haze.

Before I knew it, I was standing at the gate of Graveyard 8, slightly out of breath.

When a fallen Deathwalker is brought to the Tomb, they can be interred or cremated according to their wish or that of their close ones.

If they are to be interred, the casket is placed in one of the numerous cells inside the hollowed-out mountain, or buried outside in one of the many graveyards along the mountainside.

The entire Tomb was meticulously designed to be the final resting place for the Deathwalkers, with expansions even digging down to the mountain's foundations to increase its capacity.

After the Shield and the Royal Palace, the Tomb stands as one of the greatest projects in the Kingdom.

I passed through the gate and entered the graveyard.

Gravestones of black marble were arranged in neat rows across the flat area cut into the mountain.

Snow lightly dusted the gravestones and the cobblestone walkway that ran through the middle of the graveyard, a pristine white blanket softening the harsh lines of stone and earth.

Flowers, both fresh and dried, were meticulously arranged at the base of the gravestones, their petals contrasting vividly against the dark stone and white snow.

As I walked among the gravestones, I couldn't shake the feeling that I wasn't alone.

It was as if the spirits of the fallen Deathwalkers were crowding around me, curious about the living person who had stepped into their sanctuary.

My eyes wandered over the names engraved in the solid marble.

How many Deathwalkers were laid to rest in this graveyard?

How did they die?

Does anyone still miss them?

I shook my head. I probably wouldn't know the answers.

But what I do know is that the Deathwalkers buried here are just a drop in the ocean of corpses created by the Tear.

Glimpses of my nightmares flashed into my mind.

The crimson sky dotted with black stars, the sea of blood and body parts, the disembodied hands.

A shudder passed through my body.

Why now, of all times?

I quickened my pace and spotted a solitary figure standing before a grave ahead.

She was gazing down at the gravestone, which seemed to have been recently installed.

"Here to continue our fight?" Vanis asked as I approached her, her eyes still on the gravestone.

I sighed and stood beside her. "Why does everyone assume that?"

She shrugged and glanced sideways at me. "Well, everyone in the Shield knows how bloody cracked you are."

I winced at her words. "I can't blame them for that. You were right. I am out of control."

Vanis's face remained expressionless. "Good thing you realized, but it was a bit too late."

I sensed bitterness in her voice. She hadn't forgiven me for what I did back then.

"You buried his ashes?" I asked, finding it quite odd.

Vanis nodded. "He wished to be buried, even if he was reduced to ashes."

She sighed. "He always kept to himself and only talked to me. But he was a good Deathwalker."

Her gaze wandered to the distant mountains, her silver hair swaying in the icy winds.

"I bet he is quite infuriated seeing us standing before his grave—the Captain who broke her promise to him and the guy who mutilated him," she scoffed.

I grimaced. She really emphasized that last part.

I took a deep breath, the frigid air stinging my lungs.

It's just a simple apology. It's not hard.

"Listen, Vanis. I-"

"Do you mean it?" She cut me off, her gaze still fixed in the distance.

I blinked. "Huh?"

"Your apology. Do you mean it?" she turned to me, her red and purple eyes staring into my soul.

"Many have apologized to me, Mordred. One of them was the previous Saint."

Her words sent a chill down my spine and I felt the icy hands of fear grasp my heart.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked her in the eyes.

"I mean it, Vanis," I said.

"I am sorry."

Vanis remained silent, her cold and hard gaze lingering on mine for a minute, her expression unreadable.

She closed her eyes and turned away. "Fine. Just make sure you honor those words."

She walked to the graveyard's edge and sat on a rock jutting towards the edge.

"Sit with me," she said, patting the rock beside her.

It was not a request, but an order.

Vanis Hectus is really scary!

Both of us are Master A rankers, but she has more experience and is significantly better than me in controlling her strand.

She is equal to Iris in ability before Iris became an S ranker and has gained a reputation as the deadliest Paladin in the Order of Lux.

So I complied with her and sat on the rock.

The scenery before us was breathtaking. Graveyard 8 was on the side of the Tomb that did not face the Shield.

So the rest of Les Anciennes stretched out before us, blanketed in snow and clouds.

"So. What is it?" Vanis asked, breaking the silence and looking at me with her heterochromatic eyes.

Incarni! She is such a beautiful woman.

Her crimson and purple eyes held a certain allure to them and the tattoo on her forehead elevated the beauty of her face.

She's beautiful. But not as beautiful as Iris, and definitely not as beautiful as me.

Wow! I'm such a romantic.

Well, it's quite expected of such a beautiful human like me.

Anyway.

"What?" I gave her a puzzled look.

Vanis raised an eyebrow. "You're not here just to apologize, are you?"

I nodded slowly. "Yeah. I need to know something."

She looked at me and her lips curled into a half-smile.

Returning her gaze to the scenery, she said, "Iris is doing well."

I did a double take, and I stared at her. "How did you know I was about to ask about Iris?"

She smirked. "It's obvious that you would ask about Iris. You were worried about her, weren't you?"

I awkwardly rubbed the back of my head. "Yeah. I am."

Vanis chuckled. "How cute. Don't be so worried. She's thriving."

"Really?" I perked up. My final year was so consumed by the daily battles that I couldn't learn anything about what happened to Iris after she left the Shield.

Hearing Vanis' words lifted my spirits and improved my mood.

She nodded, looking quite amused by my reaction.

"It took only six months for her to recover. Apart from her lost memories, she's better than before. She's now an S ranker, after all."

Vanis leaned back, resting her palms on the cool surface of the rock before continuing.

"Iris Lefay is making some major waves in the Kingdom. Soon after she recovered, she brought down the noble family who was governing Blackrose Island."

I blinked. "That was unexpected."

Vanis shrugged. "Those guys were some real assholes, absolutely corrupted to the core. I am surprised Iris even tolerated them during her recovery."

"One of them even tried to make a move on Iris when she first took up residence on the island," she added.

I stared at her and asked in a dangerous voice. "Did he? Give me his name and his address."

"Whoa, there tiger. Just calm down. Iris killed him in a duel," Vanis replied.

"Ah," I nodded.

"That's Iris for you. It's a pity I couldn't get him though,"

"I'm kind of glad that he died by her hand," Vanis remarked. "I shudder to think what you would do if he fell into your hands," she added.

"So yeah. She completely annihilated that family and single-handedly freed Blackrose Island from their well-hidden oppression," she continued.

"The High King was quite impressed by her and put her in charge of Blackrose Island," Vanis gave me a calm smile. "The island residents call her the Blackrose Knight and revere her like an Incarnus."

I raised my eyebrows. "Wow. Like an Incarnus, huh? That's some high praise."

"Now that is some natural talent," she remarked and swayed her legs.

"Even without her memories, Iris is as fiery as ever!"