Gun of Ashes

”I’m sorry.”

Notar looked at Selyu, or perhaps elsewhere, as his pupils began to slightly dilate. Tears welled up from his eyes, mixed with the blood still lingering on his face, turning his already miserable state into an even worse one.

”I should have been prepared, I should have been fearless, I should have brought you to the World’s End.”

He continued speaking, blaming himself, as if this were his final confession.

Selyu didn’t respond to his words; all she knew was that Lorenzo had told her to look after Notar, and she knew that Notar was the captain and that this ship still needed him.

But her efforts were in vain; bandages were of no use, serving only as minimal psychological comfort. Large swathes of blood were escaping from Notar’s body, his body growing ever colder, and his muscles turning rigid.

The continuous trials had scarred the will of a mortal full of wounds; he no longer had the strength to continue supporting. No matter how much Selyu tried, she couldn’t hold on to him.

”Compared to you, I truly feel ashamed.”

A pain in Notar’s heart that he had never felt before; he was a soldier, a soldier with the resolve to die, but in the end, he couldn’t even compare to a little girl.

Fearful and hesitant, finally ending up in this state.

Selyu looked calmly at Notar, who at this point was no longer breathing.

Notar’s consciousness faded into confusion, his body gradually undergoing an alienation, shrouded in corrosion. Selyu raised her hand, holding the Florun Potion, which might let Notar hold on for a few more seconds. But after that, what then?

Her hand lingered in the air, hesitating for a long time.

Finally, Selyu put away the Florun Potion, gently stroking Notar’s terrible face, trying hard to smooth out his furrowed brows.

She hadn’t spent much time with this captain, hadn’t even spoken a few words, but when Notar cried and apologized to her, Selyu felt a little strange, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

”Why not try to save him?”

Cliff asked from the side. He didn’t know much about the Purification Mechanism, but he understood some of the effects of that potion. If they used it on Notar... perhaps...

”What’s the point?”

Selyu slowly got up, looking at Notar as if something came to her mind.

”This place is already hell for him; death is the true release. Why drag him back into hell? Notar has already done more than enough.”

Selyu sat back in the corner, looking at the gradually cooling corpse. Her mind was getting messier.

The captain of the Morning Glow Advance was dead, at such a critical moment. Selyu thought about it; she had no solution. Like many others, her abilities were limited, just an ordinary mortal. She had considered reaching out to Lorenzo, but such communication in her mind was one-way.

They had just resolved one crisis, and in this brief calm, a bigger crisis descended.

Who would steer the Morning Glow Advance?

No one responded.

No one was considering these matters; it seemed if they didn’t think about it, it wouldn’t exist, deceiving themselves.

At this moment, Galron stepped up, gripping the wheel with both hands, steering based on his experience.

He wasn’t familiar with piloting an Iron Armor ship. In the Viking realms, such a thing was a rarity, but Galron had spent plenty of time at sea. He could only rely on his past experiences now.

With his turn, the Morning Glow Advance clumsily swayed. Initial control was relatively smooth, but looking at the complex instrument panel, Galron was momentarily at a loss.

But there’s no choice, in this situation, everyone must do their utmost, to gamble on that faint glimmer of hope.

”I remember you were a Duke, right?”

Galron suddenly asked, his eyes fixed ahead, watching the gale-driven monstrous waves.

Selyu’s movements were swift, she easily killed a Demon, and judging by Selyu’s expression, it seemed to be just another ordinary task for her.

Galron found it hard to understand; he couldn’t reconcile the Selyu he just witnessed with the young Duke Stuart, always feeling an indescribable sense of discord between the identity and image.

”Is there a problem?”

Selyu sat to one side, leaning her Aluminothermic Rifle against the wall, wiping her blood-stained Folding Blade with a corner of her clothing.

”Just a bit surprised...” Galron said.

”Do you think someone like me should be crying in fear while you all protect me?” Selyu said, expressionless.

The lightning and thunder made it feel as if everyone was truly standing in hell, with the cold sea wind and rain flooding into the command room, adding to the chill and pressure.

”Aren’t you afraid?”

Galron asked, this girl far younger and frailer than anyone present, yet amid this complex emotion, she was the calmest, without a hint of fear.

”Afraid.”

Selyu replied. It didn’t look like she was lying, her clear gaze sincere, and then she added.

”Being afraid is one thing, but being so afraid that you give up resisting is another.”

She looked at Notar’s body; the blood spread across the ground, mingling with the Demon’s blood, forming a viscous patch.

”Do you think he’s a coward?”

Cliff asked, observing Selyu’s calmness. Given the ridiculous pride, it was hard for these Vikings not to compare themselves with Selyu.

Selyu shook her head, denying Cliff’s words.

”I know someone who once told me, about courage and fear.”