Chapter 20: Chapter 19: The Calveth Massacre

“I was hesitant at first,” Queen Selene muttered, standing atop her throne while Deimos listened in silence. “I didn’t know what my wielder would have done, and I had never made a choice on my own. All I knew was that I wanted what she wanted—to see the world restored to what it once was.”

Her fists tightened. “So I made a choice I’ve regretted ever since.” Her eyes fixed on Deimos, heavy with sorrow.

“I allied with the dragon queen of Enmida.”

Deimos’ eyes widened.

“No… that means—”

Selene gave a slow nod. “The attacks began almost instantly.”

Her voice faltered as the memories surfaced. “Every week, every month, every year, Tiamat and I burned civilizations across the Fourth Layer. We pillaged, slaughtered, and bound the dead as slaves, feeding the empire we built from their ruins.”

She drew a sharp breath, eyes closing against the horror. “And as time passed, this body of mine grew saturated. I began to feel—truly feel. My emotions deepened, sharpened. And the more we destroyed, the closer I grew to Tiamat… until I cared for her as much as I cared for my purpose.”

“But even then, with every human and every Court Tarot we slaughtered, it felt as though each death bound me and her closer together. Yet the closer we became, the further the purpose behind our actions got. In time, it seemed as if we destroyed not for restoration, not for necessity, but for our own twisted amusement.”

She turned her gaze aside, unable to bear Deimos’ expression—a face caught between confusion and unmistakable disgust. Shame weighed heavy in her voice, but the momentum of confession dragged her onward.

“Or at least, that’s what I believed. Until one night, everything changed…”

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“Lady Selene. My Queen.” Commander Leon’s voice echoed as he stepped into the throne room, finding them together—Tiamat lounging upon the throne while Selene stood dutifully at her side.

Tiamat’s teeth clicked in irritation. “Ugh. What do you want, Leon?” she groaned, rolling her eyes. Selene let slip a small laugh at her companion’s dramatics.

“The troops are ready, Your Highness,” Leon reported, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. “We are prepared to march on the city of Calveth—”

“You think I don’t know that?” Tiamat cut him off with a snarl. “I feel everything they do. They all drank my blood. Unlike someone who still refuses.” Her eyes narrowed as she blinked at Leon with mocking exaggeration.

Leon lowered his head, sighing. Draped over his shoulders, his Undine, Serina, coiled like a living scarf.

“My Queen, I…” Leon faltered.

“Come now,” Tiamat said with a cruel smile, producing a vial of thick maroon liquid and twirling it between her fingers. “I can’t taste that bad. Don’t you want to connect with your soldiers as I do?” She gestured toward the gates, where a host of grotesque Newts writhed restlessly—flesh fused with jagged armor, eyes glowing, snarls and hisses spilling from twisted throats.

Her eyes glinted as she studied Leon. “I’m also curious, though. What would your Undine become once you’ve tasted my blood?”

At that, Serina recoiled in horror. Her form flickered, then dissolved entirely into Leon’s body, vanishing as if fleeing from the very thought.

Selene and Tiamat burst into laughter at Serina’s sudden retreat.

“Leave them alone, you’re frightening them,” Selene teased, her voice light with amusement.

“Alright, alright…” Tiamat smirked, slipping the vial back into her robes. She flicked her hand dismissively. “Get the troops into position and begin the march to Calveth. Now.”

Leon bowed his head. “...At once, my Queen.” He turned and strode from the chamber, his steps stiff with unspoken tension.

“You ought to be kinder to him,” Selene remarked with a faint smile, watching him go. “He cares more for you than you realize.”

Tiamat rose from the throne, stretching languidly, her grin sharp. “Maybe so. I should’ve killed him the first time he refused my blood. But… he’s proven useful. Annoyingly useful.”

Her hand extended, claws glinting faintly in the torchlight. Selene took it with a queen’s grace.

“Alright… it’s showtime,” Tiamat said. Together, they descended the throne hall’s steps toward the massive gates.

“We’ve cut down so many of her Court Tarots,” Selene murmured. “She’ll have no choice but to appear tonight.”

“And when she does,” Tiamat growled, “we kill her—”

“And bring the world back to what it was,” Selene finished softly.

Perhaps then… I’ll see Remus again.

The doors of the hall opened to the night. Outside, a black carriage awaited, a Newt driver holding the reins of two armored steeds. Tiamat guided Selene to the carriage and helped her inside.

“I’ll see you on the battlefield,” Selene said with a cheerful lilt.

“All you’ll see is fire.” Tiamat laughed, exhaling a sharp tongue of flame from her nostrils, the sparks vanishing to smoke. She shut the carriage door and turned away, her stride carrying her toward the mustering army.

Selene leaned back against the seat, chuckling to herself. The wheels creaked into motion. Beyond the window, the endless ranks of Newts marched in lockstep, weapons glinting under the moon. Overhead, the air split with a ferocious roar. Selene’s eyes lifted to the clouds, catching only a fleeting glimpse of Tiamat’s immense dragon form before it vanished into the night sky.

“Lady Selene.”

The voice came from within. Selene’s head snapped around.

Leon sat across from her, arms folded, his gaze averted, his silence heavy as steel.

“Leon? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be leading the army to Calveth?” Selene asked.

Leon nodded. “Serina has that covered. I came because I wanted to speak with you.”

Selene blinked, unsettled. “...Alright. About what?”

“What’s the end goal?”

“What do you mean?”

“Unlike the Queen, you’re not destroying for the thrill of it.” His blonde hair shifted in the wind seeping through the carriage’s slits as its wheels rumbled faster along the road. His voice carried a gravity it rarely held—less soldier, more man. “There’s a reason. Tell me what it is.”

A pause stretched between them. Then Leon let out a low, bitter sigh. “No. Who am I fooling. There’s nothing that justifies killing thousands of innocents.”

“Leon… what are you—”

“You’ve let the Queen twist you,” Leon cut in sharply. “Into a pawn, a plaything, an accomplice to everything you once stood against. Have you inverted yourself?”

“Inverted?” Selene gave a short, cold laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous. For me to have become a Reversed Tarot, I’d have to be a Tarot in the first place.”

Her gaze hardened. “I am a weapon. The weapon of my wielder, now gone, who was given his Soul’s Core.”

“So you’ve claimed his place. Become his successor.” Leon raised his head, though the wind lashed his hair across his eyes, veiling his expression. His words were like steel. “And this… this slaughter… is how you honor him? How distasteful.”

Selene’s composure cracked. “E…excuse me?”

“Do you see yourself as nothing more than that—a weapon?” Leon unsheathed his sword partway, tilting the hilt toward her. “This is a weapon.” He then jabbed his finger toward the window, at the countless Newts trudging like hollow husks of men. “Those are weapons.”

At last, his finger leveled at Selene. His voice was iron. “But you are not. Not anymore. And yet you let yourself be wielded as though you still were—by her, no less.”

Selene’s jaw tightened. “I’m fighting for the greater good of humanity. All this blood, all this misery—it will fade. Forgotten, once the goal is accomplished.”

Stolen novel; please report.

“And what is this grand goal of yours?”

Selene hesitated, then answered. “This world is shackled under a false god. Lirael is a fraud, seizing power only after the true goddess, Eirene, vanished. With her stolen divinity, she rewrote the world itself.”

She admitted quietly, “My goal is to defeat Lirael and restore the world to its true state—so that Eirene may return and reclaim her throne.”

Leon blinked, his shoulders sinking as if the weight of her words pressed down on him.

“I… see.”

The carriage rumbled on, silence stretching between them as the road wound closer to Calveth.

At last, Leon spoke again. “And who does that benefit in the end?”

Selene’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Even if Lirael reset the world, I doubt it was without reason,” Leon said, his voice low but steady. Her silence was answer enough. “She gave us peace. My wife and son live without fear. And you want to strip that away—just to put your goddess back where she once stood?”

“Eirene created all of us,” Selene countered, her voice sharp with conviction. “She’s the true source of everything—your life included. Why wouldn’t you want her restored?”

Leon turned his face toward the window. Beyond the glass, the night sky opened wide, stars burning indifferent above the earth. His hand slipped into his chestplate, retrieving a small pendant of glowing blue crystal. He stared at it with quiet reverence.

“It’s not that I wouldn’t want her back. But I won’t sacrifice what I have now, just to see her return.”

His gaze remained fixed on the pendant. “And you should ask yourself, Selene. Were you made to serve Eirene… or to protect humanity?”

Selene’s eyes widened. The words struck her deeper than she expected, stirring doubts she never thought she had.

Leon’s tone softened, though the steel never left it. “Does it matter who rules above? Your duty is to guard what Eirene created. That doesn’t change.”

The carriage shuddered to a halt. Calveth lay ahead—engulfed in chaos. Flames devoured rooftops, smoke billowed in choking plumes, and the cries of the dying carried through the air. The Newt army poured through the streets, blades slick and teeth gnashing, slaughtering all in their path.

A roar split the sky. Above the burning city, Tiamat’s vast dragon form rose from the smoke, wings thrashing as swarms of Avatars launched themselves against her, hurling radiant Signatures that lit the night like falling stars. Alarms blared, echoing across stone and fire, hammering into Selene’s skull.

Leon’s voice lingered in the back of her mind.

“Think about it.”

His body dissolved in a surge of water, vanishing from sight.

Selene stepped down from the carriage. Heat licked at her skin, the air thick with smoke and ash. She advanced into the burning streets, the cacophony of slaughter crashing around her.

Her steps faltered. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a little girl scrambling through the flames. A Newt pursued her, sword raised high, the steel catching firelight as it swung down to cleave her in two.

Selene’s fist met steel before the Newt’s blade could fall, shattering it like brittle glass. With her other hand, she punched straight through its chest, ripping the life from the beast in an instant. The body collapsed in a heap at her feet.

The little girl froze, trembling, wide-eyed.

“Are you alright?” Selene asked, crouching down. Her voice softened, though the smoke still curled heavy in her lungs.

The girl managed a shaky nod.

“What’s your name?” Selene pressed gently.

“M—Maris… my na—name is Maris Castellane, ma’am,” the child stammered, tears streaking her soot-covered face.

Selene offered her hand, pulling her up. “Maris, do you know where your family is?”

Almost as if summoned by the question, two figures emerged from the smoke.

“Maris!” the man cried, racing toward his daughter. She bolted forward into their embrace, sobbing. “Mom! Dad!”

The mother clutched her tightly, voice breaking with relief. “Thank the stars you’re safe.”

Selene watched, a faint smile softening her face.

“You saved our daughter,” the father said, turning to Selene with gratitude.

She nodded once. “Stay with me. I’ll get you all out of here.”

The parents exchanged a quick, uncertain look before agreeing.

“Wait—before we go, what’s your name?” the mother asked. “We’d like to remember you.”

Something strange stirred in Selene’s chest at that request—something she hadn’t felt before. A quiet warmth crept into her expression.

“You may call me Selene. Now come—stay close.”

Together, they pressed deeper into the burning streets, Selene carving a path through fire and wreckage. Maris clung tightly to her parents, the cries of the dying echoing with every step. But the path ahead soon grew darker—scattered with corpses.

Newts, one after another, their twisted bodies mutilated.

Selene’s eyes narrowed as she advanced. More corpses lined the streets until the ground itself seemed paved in them.

Then the smoke parted, and in the clearing stood a lone figure at the center of the slaughter. His longsword dripped red, his armor streaked in gore.

“Leon…” Selene’s voice cut through the stillness.

He spun around, startled. His expression flickered with panic when his eyes landed on her—and then on the family at her side.

“Selene? No… no, no, you have to get them out of here, now!”

“What? Why? What’s—”

She didn’t finish.

The father’s head was torn from his shoulders in an instant, blood spraying across Selene and the mother. The scream never fully left the woman’s throat before her torso was obliterated, her body crumpling in two broken halves.

Maris stood frozen, staring at the mangled remains of her parents. Then, with a terrified cry, she bolted into the smoke, vanishing into the chaos.

“Wait!” Selene shouted, reaching after her. But the girl was gone.

A voice, cold and amused, slipped into her ear.

“Oh damn. I thought I got the kid too.”

Tiamat strode out of the haze, slow and deliberate, her presence suffocating. She came to stand beside Selene, her gaze fixed on Leon, irritation sparking in her eyes.

Leon stood frozen, sweat glistening on his brow, breath sharp and uneven. The battlefield itself seemed to hold still as Tiamat fixed her gaze on him, her presence suffocating.

“Leon,” she said, her tone calm but edged with menace. “Why have you slaughtered so many of my soldiers?” Her eyes swept over the mangled corpses of the Newts, their blood soaking the dirt. “You know I can feel my blood when it’s spilled.”

Leon’s grip tightened around the glowing blue pendant at his chest, its light casting faint ripples across his armor. That same light flickered in his eyes as he raised his blade, leveling it at her.

“Yeah,” he muttered, voice steady despite the tremor in his hands. “I was counting on that.”

In a flash, he lunged. His sword clashed against Tiamat’s claw with a shriek of steel.

But the fight ended almost as quickly as it began. With a casual flick of her nail, she snapped his blade in half, the broken steel spiraling away as Leon was hurled backward into the dirt.

Tiamat sighed, disappointed. “A shame it ends like this, Commander.” She shot forward, claws aimed for his throat.

Before they could sink into his flesh, strands of Selene’s hair coiled around Tiamat’s wrist like living chains. With a violent pull, Selene hurled her skyward.

Leon staggered to his feet, stunned. Selene extended a hand, helping him upright. A faint, almost disbelieving smile crossed his lips.

“Selene, what the hell are you doing?!” Tiamat roared. From above, she rained down a storm of bright pink slashes. Selene’s hair spread out, whips of it colliding with the strikes, shredding strand by strand under the impact.

Leon leapt skyward to meet her, Serina erupting from his body. Her watery arms reshaped into whirring saws as she slashed for Tiamat’s skin. The dragon queen twisted, dodging with a vicious spin, then kicked Leon straight into the ground, the force erupting in a blast of debris.

She landed hard, directly before Selene. Their eyes locked.

“This isn’t the time for games, Selene!” Tiamat hissed, charging. “Leon betrayed us—kill him! Burn this city to ash!”

“No!” Selene’s hair lashed forward, intercepting claw for claw. “This was never a game! Leon betrayed you because he saw the truth—a truth I was blind to.”

“There is no truth but ours!” Tiamat shrieked, slashing through a coil of Selene’s hair. “Lirael’s illusion has shackled us long enough! We deserve freedom, not this pathetic untrue world. Don’t you wish to see it ended?”

Selene ducked another strike, her hair slicing across Tiamat’s cheek. A red line opened, blood spilling down her face. She followed with a sharp kick, sending the dragon queen crashing into rubble.

Breathing hard, Selene’s voice cut across the thunder. “Even if Lirael’s world isn’t true, it’s paradise compared to the hell that came before. All of this—my alliance with you—was selfishness, out of my own desire to see Eirene again. I didn’t think of humanity’s safety.”

Tiamat rose from the debris, touching the blood on her face. Her eyes widened as she stared at it, her expression unreadable.

Selene’s gaze hardened, voice steady as steel. “Unless Lirael herself threatens humanity, I have no reason to fight her. But you—you never cared about restoring the world. You’ve only ever killed for the thrill. And I’ll never let you harm humanity again, monster.”

Tiamat stood still, her head bowed, fingers tracing the wound on her cheek again and again. Then her shoulders shook. A low laugh slipped from her throat, growing louder, harsher.

Rain began to fall across the burning city, drops hissing against fire and blood. Selene watched warily as the dragon queen’s laughter rose, echoing like thunder across the battlefield.

Her laughter broke, dying into a low snarl as her glowing green eyes locked on Selene.

“...So that’s how it is,” Tiamat muttered, the air around her vibrating with killing intent.

The silence shattered.

“Selene, look out!” Leon’s warning rang too late.

A massive green slash manifested in front of Selene—appearing not as if hurled, but as if it phased directly into existence. Faster than sight. Too close to dodge.

The blade of light hurtled toward her—

But Leon threw himself into its path.

The strike tore through his torso and shoulder, the impact sending him collapsing to the ground in a spray of blood.

“Leon!” Selene dropped beside him, frantic. She pressed her hair against the wound, desperately trying to stem the torrent, but the attack had slashed his heart. The life was draining out of him.

He coughed blood, vision blurring, limbs failing him. His trembling hand clutched at the pendant on his neck. With a final surge of strength, he ripped it free and pressed it into Selene’s palm. She grasped his blood-slicked hand tightly, refusing to let go.

“In… the—” he gasped, “In… the end… you’re still a Tarot.”

His arm went slack.

The pendant slipped fully into Selene’s hands as Leon’s body stilled. His eyes dulled and turned gray.

Commander Leon Bairre Fearadaigh was dead.