Chapter 42: Sea of Blood, Cycle of Rebirth
This was an ancient tale, and yet it always felt ever new.
Every time it happened again, their hearts would break anew.
——Hermann Karl Hesse.
The Holy Federation.
Dortmund.
Nominally, it was a regiment's worth of men. In reality, it was only a company.
But even that was enough—because the Holy Federation simply had no soldiers to spare for escorting Cinderella home.
There was also Colonel Prittwitz—who, by now, ought to be called General Prittwitz.
Cinderella sat inside the carriage.
With her was her cousin, Brunhilde, who had come specifically to receive her.
And to deliver an important piece of news.
Her father was close to the end.
Cinderella had to hurry if she wanted to see him one last time.
She didn’t want to tell Ning Luo about it.
She already owed Ning Luo more than enough—not only the succession rights to Eisenmich, but also the status she had gained in the Holy Federation.
All of Ning Luo’s activities in the Holy Federation had been carried out under the name of Baron Scharnhorst, and since he had always been by Cinderella’s side, it was only natural for others to assume that Ning Luo was her husband.
If she told Ning Luo about her father, he would insist on accompanying her to Berlin.
But Ning Luo shouldn’t go to Berlin.
He now had somewhere else he absolutely needed to be.
Once things in Berlin were settled, Cinderella had decided she would go to see him.
Cinderella had thought many times about her relationship with Ning Luo.
If it had been a year ago, she probably would’ve agonized over it for a long time.
But now—after all that had happened in the war—so many things no longer felt as important. Life itself was far too fragile.
When she returned to Brittany, she would sit down and have a proper talk with Ning Luo.
According to Cinderella’s thinking, if Ning Luo’s fiancée—that Princess Isabella—was willing, then the three of them could be together.
If she was not willing—
Then Cinderella would preserve this little first love just as it was, and see who lived longer in the end.
She was younger than Isabella, which gave her a certain advantage.
No matter what, Cinderella had no intention of letting go.
Whether for personal or political reasons, she had to protect this bond—
After all, the fragile Duchy of Dortmund still needed Albion’s support.
A year ago, Cinderella definitely would have struggled with the decision.
But now, a year later, they had managed—barely, just barely—to survive until the end of the war.
They were still alive.
That was enough.
Once the war was over, everything would slowly get better.
Only—
Even if Cinderella had prepared for the worst, Dortmund’s current state was still shockingly tragic.
The entire duchy had been reduced to ruins in the flames of war.
It hadn’t just been destroyed by the Empire of Scandinavia—
It had also been ravaged back and forth by both the Holy Federation and the Empire of Scandinavia.
According to the only remaining records from Dortmund, Berlin’s population had fallen to one-third of what it had been before the war.
In the west, the population had dropped by one-fifth.
In the north, by one-quarter.
In the southwest, by 40%.
And in the east—by a staggering 50%.
The population of the entire homeland of Dortmund had effectively been cut in half.
This was not an exaggerated metaphor—
It was the reality of Dortmund.
The war had also rendered vast swathes of land unusable.
Seventy percent of Dortmund’s territory lay in waste.
In their resistance against the armies of the Empire of Scandinavia and the Holy Federation, Dortmund’s peasants had gathered in the noble estates.
But it had all been meaningless.
Of the forty noble families who once managed the estates of Priegnitz, only ten remained. That was considered lucky.
As for regions like Württemberg, Putlitz, Mainburg, and Freienstein—
Not a single noble family had survived.
All these stories had been reduced to nothing more than cold, lifeless statistics in Cinderella’s hands.
But—
She was about to see them take shape before her eyes.
Bang—
A violent explosion rang out.
The carriage was thrown onto its side.
Brunhilde immediately shielded Cinderella in her arms.
“Ambush!!”
In theory, there shouldn’t have been enemies at this point—the war was already over.
Besides, they were regular troops of the Holy Federation, flying the Federation’s flag.
Not even bandits would dare to attack them.
And yet the attackers were barely a dozen men—
Daring enough to strike at a force of over a hundred.
Against such under-armed enemies, the elite soldiers of the Holy Federation could have easily overwhelmed them.
But they couldn’t give chase.
Their first duty was to protect Cinderella.
General Prittwitz came to the overturned carriage, his brow deeply furrowed.
He looked at Cinderella, who was being shielded by Brunhilde, and said:
"Your Highness, these may not be Scandinavians... they're Dortmunders..."
Cinderella froze.
Then, before Brunhilde could even react, she stood up abruptly and waved her arms toward the distance.
"Cease fire!"
"Everyone, cease fire! We’re all from Dortmund!!"
Cinderella's desperate cry rang out into the rain-drenched night.
The soldiers on both sides slowly began to stop firing.
Once the gunfire had fully ceased—
Cinderella struggled to crawl out of the carriage.
She stepped into the mud-soaked ground and began to walk forward.
And as she emerged—
So too did the hidden attackers, slowly stepping out from the shadows of the forest.
They wore tattered Scandinavian Imperial Army uniforms.
Only seven or eight of them in total.
Their bodies were drenched in a filthy mix of blood, rain, and mud—
Like devils crawling out from the depths of hell.
Their crimson eyes locked onto Cinderella.
The sight was so horrifying that she could barely stand.
She placed a hand on her chest, clutched tightly at her collar, and forced herself to stand upright.
“I am Princess Cinderella of Dortmund... I’ve come to tell you—the war is over… the war is over!”
The soldiers gave no response.
Cinderella tried again to calm them, gently.
“It’s alright now... There’s no need to keep fighting... We can go home...
I’ve come to take you home.”
The soldier still made no reply.
His crimson eyes were fixed firmly on Cinderella, his gaze sweeping over the Holy Federation troops present.
Then—
He raised the gun in his hand once more.
The Holy Federation soldiers immediately raised their weapons as well.
But—
The soldier did not aim at Cinderella.
He aimed the gun at his own jaw.
“No no no no no no……!”
Bang!
After the gunshot rang out—
The devil’s body collapsed heavily onto the ground.
Cinderella rushed forward at once.
She stretched out both hands and pressed them tightly against the soldier’s jaw, from which blood poured endlessly, her lips murmuring desperate pleas.
“No… please… please!”
Even at the Immortal Fortress.
Even when she had been hunted down in Waldenburg.
Cinderella had never felt fear like this before—as though something had been utterly torn away from this land.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
One gunshot after another rang out behind her.
Cinderella sank to her knees.
Rain soaked her long hair.
The blood in her hands slowly grew cold.
It was as if all the hatred of this land had finally found its destination.
Countless shadows, like the very tendrils of the earth, wrapped around her body—
Hatred made flesh, feeding upon itself.
At last, Cinderella understood why Ning Luo had not wanted her to return to Dortmund.
She raised her head.
Her black eyes had already turned red.
"I swear by my hair, I swear by my name, I swear upon the covenant—
Dortmund will one day make you repay it all!"