Chapter 122. I don't want to
Yuki was eighteen years old when she decided to die.
She’d considered several options at length. Hanging herself would take too long. Overdosing on pills might fail to work. Drowning felt too macabre, even for her.
In the end, she decided to just slit her wrists. She acquired some topical anticoagulants from the palace apothecary, and some pain medicine for good measure.
The next question was where.
She couldn’t do it inside the palace. There was a chance that her father would discover her. And if he did, the punishment might very well be worse than death.
And so, in the middle of the night, she stole away to a secluded stone garden located on the outskirts of the capital. She used to come here often, whenever things got too much and she had to escape, at least for a little bit. Surrounded by dense bamboo thickets and far enough from the city center that almost nobody ever came near, this garden had always been her little sanctuary, closed off from the outside world.
Now, it would become her grave.
Steeling herself, she applied the anticoagulant tincture to her skin and swallowed the pain medicine in a single gulp. Then, she drew a simple ceremonial blade. The blade was thin and fragile, inscribed with ornate patterns. Clearly not meant for battle, but it would serve its purpose here.
Taking a deep breath, she pressed the blade against her wrist. Her anatomy lessons told her exactly where her arteries were. She had already sharpened it beforehand, so even that minute contact was enough to draw beads of blood. As she waited for the drugs to take effect, she gazed up into the sky.
The full moon shone down upon her, dazzling and luminous as always. Had it always been this beautiful?
For several moments, she just stared into the sky, admiring the moon and feeling the cool night breeze against her skin.
Then, she gritted her teeth, and without looking down, she sliced the blade across her wrist–
Her knife didn’t budge.
Yuki blinked, looking down. She didn’t understand what she saw. There… There was a hand grabbing her wrist?
Correction: there was a hand connected to a man grabbing her wrist.
She yelped and yanked her hand back. Or rather, she tried to; the man’s grip was like steel.
Her heart raced. She hadn’t sensed him standing next to her at all. Hell, even now, she couldn’t sense him. She took in his appearance: wavy brown hair, an immaculate beard, smile lines around unsmiling dark eyes.
When did he appear? How long had he been watching her? Who was he?
Before she could ask any of her questions, though, he spoke first.
“Why do you wish to die?”
His tone was neither accusing nor condemning. She couldn’t get a read on him at all.
The question echoed around in her head. Why had she decided to die?
She didn’t know how to answer. How could she possibly explain? How could anyone understand the guilt she felt over her father’s actions? How could anyone understand the shame that came with being his favored daughter? How could anyone understand the suffocating palace politics, the inhumane beatings in the guise of training, and the brutal punishments that inevitably followed when she didn’t live up to expectations?
Her only worth came from the fact that one day, if her father ever fell in battle, then she would be his cure against death. His soul would overtake hers and he would reincarnate in her body. That was her sole purpose in life, the reason why she had been born. She was nothing more than a backup vessel.
Normally, she would’ve refused to answer the man. But tonight was different. She had already resolved herself to die by the time dawn arrived. What did it matter if she told one person the truth?
“Because this is the only way to escape the pain. Because this is what I deserve.”
“What do you mean?”
She turned to him. The man’s gaze was assessing. Emotionless. “Do you really need to ask? You know who my father is. You know what he’s done.”
“I do,” the man said. “Which is why I do not understand. Do you not wish to deliver retribution upon your father for his sins, Yuki Toranaga?” He paused, tilting his head. “Or would you prefer Yuki Samura?”
Samura. Her mother’s maiden name. She thought it had been lost to time, forgotten after her mother, one of the Emperor’s many concubines, fell to disease.
“How did you…” she whispered.
“I have my ways,” he said. “My name is Terminus, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I do many things, but right now, I’m working with the Resistance. And… I need your help.”
Yuki stared at him. The Resistance…?
Then she shook her head.
“I’m sorry. But there’s no point in fighting. Or delivering retribution, as you so put it. The Emperor, my father… He’s too powerful. And he’s growing stronger yet. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but in the past month, he’s created two barriers previously thought unimaginable, and he’s already working on a third, maybe even a fourth. I don’t even know how you’re here in the capital right now, but... This war is one the Resistance can’t win.”
“And if there were a way to get past the barriers?” Terminus asked. “What then?”
Yuki hesitated, then shook her head. “It still won’t matter. My father is immortal. I am the reason why he’s immortal.” She trembled out of instinct. This was her father’s most closely-guarded secret. If he ever found out she told someone, he would torture her into insanity. But… She was well past the point of caring. She wasn’t going to live to see the morning anyway. So, why not? “He possesses the skill [Bloodline Rebirth]. Upon his death, it allows him to incarnate in any of his direct blood descendants.”
Terminus stopped breathing.
Yuki nodded, feeling vindicated by his reaction. “Exactly. Do you now see why it’s impossible to win–?”
“Heh.”
Yuki paused as Terminus pressed his hand to his face and began chuckling.
“What’s so funny?” Yuki asked. Did his sanity crack–?
Terminus looked at her, his dark eyes shining with mirth. “Tonight, I was on a mission to assassinate the Emperor.”
“W-What?”
Terminus nodded. “I was already on my way to his sleeping chambers when I happened to see you sneaking out.”
“So you followed me?”
“Good thing I did,” Terminus said. “Even if I managed to kill the Emperor, it wouldn’t have lasted anyway, and I would’ve ended up revealing the cards up my sleeve.”
“I see,” Yuki said. “I suppose that is fortuitous–” She froze. “Wait. But you didn’t know about his [Bloodline Rebirth] until I told you. Why… Why didn’t you continue your mission?”
“Because you had the look of someone who’d accepted death,” Terminus said. “That, combined with the scent of anticoagulants and pain medicine I picked up, is never a good sign.”
Yuki stared at him. He… He couldn’t possibly be serious… And yet, there was no mistaking the utter sincerity in his eyes.
The man in front of her managed to infiltrate the capital and slip into the palace – only to abandon his mission just so he could stop her from ending her life?
Slowly, a lump formed in her throat, indescribable emotions welling up. Guilt, incredulity, gratitude, resentment, awe… They swirled around within her turbulently.
Ultimately, though, guilt won out.
“This was perhaps your last chance to kill him, or at least strike a critical blow,” Yuki whispered. “After this, my father will finish erecting the third and fourth Heavenly Barrier, and then Endo truly will be invulnerable.” She swallowed, self-loathing filling her voice. “You… You shouldn’t have followed me–”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” Terminus snarled with a sudden intensity. Whereas before he’d seemed mostly reserved, now his eyes positively burned. “Already, too many people have died because I–” He cut off. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet but firm. “I have made many mistakes in my life, but this? Know that I will never consider this to be a mistake.”
It was all Yuki could do to not cry. A silence fell over them for several seconds as she struggled to retain her composure.
Finally, she whispered, “I… I want to help. But… I just don’t see how the Resistance can ever win–”
“I can kill him,” Terminus said. “You said he possesses the skill [Bloodline Rebirth]? I have just the counter in mind.”
Yuki considered him for a long moment.
When she spoke again, she didn’t sound like a princess of Yukihasa.
She sounded like a normal, scared, but hopeful girl. One who had been ready to die, but was just offered a lifeline.
“Can you really kill him?” she asked.
And Terminus smiled.
“I promise. No matter the cost, I will make sure the Emperor dies.” His gaze softened. “So please… just drop the knife.”
For a long time, Yuki didn’t move.
Then, a sound rang over the garden.
The clatter of metal against stone.
The plan’s name was Operation Snowfall.
One way or another, the Resistance would invade the capital and attack the Imperial Palace. Once inside, they would incapacitate the Emperor. Then, Terminus would use the forbidden Bloodline Purge Ritual to wipe out any and all descendants within three degrees of relation to the Emperor. His children, nieces, nephews, grandchildren, great-grandchildren… Terminus wasn’t taking any chances. It would be more than enough to ensure [Bloodline Rebirth] had no viable targets left to use.
The only issue was that it required a member of the main bloodline to willingly sacrifice themselves.
Yuki didn’t hesitate for even a single second when Terminus asked. She agreed instantly.
She had already been planning to die, after all.
This was just a temporary, serendipitous delay.
Until Terminus found a way to penetrate the Heavenly Barriers, Operation Snowfall would be on hold. And so, with nothing else to do, Yuki decided to join the Resistance. She might as well put her years of combat training to use.
Naturally, she was met with distrust and anger. When people looked at her, they saw a princess of Yukihasa. The favored daughter of the Emperor. Someone who grew up in wealth and opulence. Someone who had never gone hungry a single day in their life.
Even after she fought with them, liberating villages and winning battles on the eastern battlefront, the way they looked at her stayed the same. She didn’t fail to notice how she was always placed in the frontlines, always assigned to be the vanguard. It was clear that they didn’t trust her with their backs.
Yuki didn’t blame them. She wouldn’t either.
It only seemed to anger the Resistance even more when she returned from every battle completely unharmed, not a single visible injury in sight. She was extremely skilled, trained by elite Huntsmen and the Emperor himself. However, despite her prowess, she was never promoted to a leadership role. She didn’t need to ask the reason why.
Tensions finally boiled over one autumn night. A squad of Resistance shinobi had returned from their mission just after dusk. Immediately, Yuki knew that it hadn’t gone well. Their faces were downcast, a tangible air of gloom hanging over their forms.
One of the men, a skilled shinobi called Makoto, looked especially devastated. Later, Yuki would learn that he’d found his sister in the Huntsmen outpost. Or rather, what used to be his sister. The Huntsmen had conducted their infamous experiments on her. Her death had been neither quick nor painless.
At the time, she didn’t know any of this. All she knew was that without any warning, Makoto’s gaze locked onto hers, and his eyes filled with virulent rage.
“You,” he snarled. He strode up, his steps soundless, and before she knew it, he stood in front of her, his blade at her throat. “This is your fault.”
She bore his words without complaint. She had heard it all before. She’d lost count of how many times she’d been cursed and condemned. Yukihasa was a country that operated on familial-based honor. The sins of one were the sins of all. It wasn’t uncommon for entire bloodlines to be viewed as tainted due to the actions of a single person – and for those bloodlines to be subsequently wiped out afterward.
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And so, she just stayed silent.
This only seemed to enrage Makoto further. “You won’t even have the decency to say anything?”
“I… I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I understand what you’re feeling–”
“HOW?!” Makoto laughed, a bitter, caustic sound that cut through the entire Resistance camp. A crowd quickly formed around them. “You truly are your father’s daughter.” Yuki barely managed to hide her flinch at that. “It’s your cursed blood’s fault that we’re even in this mess. And now, you dare fight and dine with us? You dare act like you’re one of us, as though you’ve suffered and bled when in reality you were raised in a life of decadent luxury? How can you possibly understand–?”
He froze.
Yuki had wordlessly slipped off her evening yukata. It fell to the ground with a soft rustle, pooling at her feet. Underneath, her form was covered with countless bandages.
Before the crowd’s disbelieving eyes, she slowly unraveled the bandages that bound her body.
The clearing went completely, utterly still. Nobody spoke. They all stared at the hideous patchwork of scars that marred her form.
Whip lashes across her back. Dozens of jagged cuts. Hundreds of puncture wounds from needles injecting her with enhancement potions.
The Emperor’s grotesque mark branded over her heart, the skin even now ugly and blistered.
“My father did not make exceptions for his own children,” Yuki said. “Nor did he tolerate any failure or dissent. I, as his favored daughter, was granted more attention than the rest of my siblings. My expectations were higher… and my punishments were harsher.”
Makoto didn’t respond. Words had completely escaped him.
“But you’re right,” Yuki said. “It’s because of my cursed blood that we’re in this mess.” Her words held a certain weight, though nobody seemed to understand why. Terminus hadn’t told the Resistance the secret to the Emperor’s immortality, not wanting to demoralize them. “I do not blame you for hating me.” She stepped forward until the tip of Makoto’s short blade was pressing against her neck. “Go on. If death is what you feel I deserve, then… I have no right to object.”
Makoto stared at her, his gaze unreadable.
Then, he lowered his sword and walked away.
Word spread.
People stared.
Yuki ignored it all, holding her head up high even as she continued fighting with all her might.
Two months later, the Leader of the Resistance fell in battle.
A meeting was called. All high-ranking members were summoned to the Resistance’s main camp, gathering into a large circle around a bonfire. Terminus was there, as was Yuki; he’d brought her along despite her objections. The two of them stood at the edge of the crowd.
“They’re electing a new leader tonight,” Terminus said to her. “Wonder who they’ll pick. Perhaps Mythmaker Shiba? I hear he’s been making a name for himself.”
There was a peculiar tone to his voice, as though he knew more than he was letting on. Yuki didn’t bother trying to figure it out. She had just returned from a mission earlier that day and was utterly exhausted. It was all she could do to keep her eyes open.
“Maybe,” she mumbled.
At the center of the circle, someone was making an impassioned speech. Yuki recognized him as Major Rikimaru, Mythmaker Shiba’s direct subordinate. He and Shiba had both rapidly risen through the Resistance’s ranks, and it was well-known that Rikimaru was deeply loyal to Shiba. No doubt he wanted the Mythmaker to become the new leader.
“–and what’s more, it’s not enough for a leader to be strong,” Rikimaru was saying. “They must be the best of us, able to inspire those they lead to ascend to heights never seen before. When despair falls upon a battlefield, they must be the rallying light of hope that pierces through.”
At the back of the crowd, Yuki smiled without much humor. Rallying light of hope? That was certainly a way to put it. She turned away; she didn’t really care who they selected, nor did she think they’d care much about her vote. She began to head back to the camp, intending to slip away so she could get a hot meal and pass out–
The clearing was silent. Oddly so.
Yuki frowned and turned back around.
She stilled.
Everyone was looking at her. From Resistance generals to Shinobi Unit leaders to elite Resistance soldiers. The entire crowd had turned to stare at her.
She stared back, hopelessly confused. Then, slowly, her crimson eyes went wide.
“W-What?”
A firm voice suddenly rang over the clearing, breaking the silence.
“I nominate Yuki Samura to be the next Resistance Leader,” Makoto said.
Yuki gaped at him. What? What did he just say?
Then—
“I second that nomination,” Mythmaker Shiba said, a small solemn smile playing on his lips.
“I third that nomination.”
“I fourth that nomination–”
On and on it went as every high-ranking member of the Resistance, many of whom were founding members, voiced their support. Yuki’s eyes were wide as she glanced around. It was as though the world had gone mad. Was she hallucinating from exhaustion? She’d have thought someone had laced her drink earlier had it not been for the extensive poison resistance training she’d undergone as a child.
This was happening. This was really happening.
“B-But why?” she ultimately croaked out.
“Ah,” Terminus said from the side. Yuki whirled to him. “Right, that might be my fault. You see, I decided to finally fill the Resistance in on the specific details of Operation Snowfall.”
Oh.
Operation Snowfall. The operation that would begin with an all-out assault on the capital and end with Yuki’s death.
“Above all,” Rikimaru continued from before, this time his tone softer, “a leader must be one who sacrifices.”
The unconditional respect in the crowd’s gazes was clear.
As if on cue, everyone began to kneel.
Instinctively, Yuki flinched. The scene reminded her too much of her father’s reign.
Except with one crucial difference.
The Resistance wasn’t kneeling out of fear.
They were kneeling out of…
“Oh, you miscreants,” Yuki said. “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”
Down below, Makoto grinned. “Guilty as charged, Your Highness. So, how about it? Want to lead us to victory?”
Yuki smiled. “If you insist… then I suppose I must.”
And if her eyes were a little brighter than normal?
Nobody pointed it out.
She was their honored leader, after all.
The one who would give her life to save the rest.
Now, seven years later, the end was finally in sight. The Emperor had been overpowered and restrained. All that was left was carrying out the final part of the plan.
“Dear father?” Yuki repeated. “Don’t make me laugh. I have been looking forward to this day for years.”
The Emperor’s face twisted with rage. “You traitorous bitch–!”
Terminus snapped his fingers, and the sound around the Emperor was abruptly cut off.
Yuki turned to Terminus. A part of her was still furious at him for not telling her about what he’d done. To think she’d once thought he was a Valarian secret agent… But then again, it didn’t really matter. He might’ve been the one to light the spark, but the kindling had already been piled high long before then. The Emperor’s tyranny had started before Yuki was even born. War had been inevitable.
And so, she buried whatever misgivings she had. When it came down to it, Terminus had helped her more than he’d hurt. She owed him more than even he knew. He’d saved her, all those years ago when he made her that promise.
Now, it was finally time to fulfill it.
“Can you do the honors?” she asked.
Terminus nodded. He withdrew a scroll from his inventory. With a wave of his hand, it unfurled to reveal thousands of runes inscribed in blood. His and hers.
“Wait!” Anastasia said, cutting in. Her eyes were wide as she glanced between them. “You can’t do this.”
“Really?” Terminus raised an eyebrow. “Because I’m pretty sure I can…”
Anastasia ignored him, focusing fully on Yuki.
“You can’t just sacrifice yourself – sacrifice all your siblings and cousins – to kill your father. He may be guilty, but they’re innocent. You’re innocent.”
“You’re wrong,” Yuki said. “In the end, we are our father’s children. His accursed blood runs through our veins – and it is that very same blood that sustains his unsightly life.”
Anastasia hesitated, then shook her head. “No. There must be some other way–”
“THERE IS NO OTHER WAY!” Yuki screamed. “Don’t you get it, High Priestess? I am the reason why the Emperor cannot die. So long as I live, so long as my siblings draw breath, this war will never end. We are a cursed bloodline. Which is why we must die. Only then will Yukihasa be cleansed of its rot.”
She clenched her fists. “The only reason why my siblings and I were even born was to act as backup vessels for our father. That’s it. What does an immortal care for heirs? For my entire life, that was my entire worth. I hated myself, I hated who I was, I hated every fiber of my being. But now, I’m something more. I’m the leader of the Resistance. I’ve improved the lives of so many people. I’ve become a rallying light of hope!”
She glared at the High Priestess, her crimson eyes fierce and proud. Anastasia didn’t respond.
Then, Yuki’s gaze softened.
“I’m happy,” she whispered. “For the first time in my life, I’m happy. So please… Please just let me finally die.”
Anastasia met her gaze for a long moment.
Slowly, she nodded.
“I see,” she said. “Very well, then. May the Goddess smile upon you, Yuki.”
And Yuki smiled, a small, relieved, joyful smile.
She had been eighteen years old when she decided to die.
Now, seven years later, her cursed existence would finally come to a blessed end.
“Thank you–”
“Because he certainly won’t.”
Yuki blinked. “What?”
She turned around to see Levi Ironwood with a decidedly defiant expression on his face.
“So,” he said. “About that.”
History really tended to repeat itself in the oddest ways.
Levi wasn’t so blind as not to see the parallels between this situation and his final task. Back then, an ancient being had corrupted nearly a million souls in its attempt to awaken into his world. Now, the Emperor was forcibly binding himself to life with the souls of his descendants. For both situations, the most effective solution was to simply cull all the involved souls.
That was what Levi had done in his final task, and that was what Terminus was attempting to do here.
And yet…
“I can’t let you perform that ritual,” said Levi.
“Why? Don’t you understand? My father’s [Bloodline Rebirth] bypasses all conventional and unconventional magic. It cannot be prevented or negated or neutralized or countered. As long as the Emperor’s descendants exist in the world, he can use their blood to reincarnate. This situation is hopeless. To kill the Emperor, I must die–”
“No,” Levi said, his voice suddenly hard. “This situation is not hopeless. Far from it. Hopeless is when you search for a solution day and night for three long years. Hopeless is when the entire world, from the gods to the demons to the fae, refuse to listen to your words. Hopeless is when you’ve exhausted every potential option and hit a dead end down every desperate path.”
Hopeless was his final task. Hopeless was when neither he nor Death had found another way to stop the ancient being from incarnating into the world.
Hopeless was when he had no choice but to destroy a million souls.
This situation, on the other hand? It was nowhere near close to hopeless.
Yuki considered him for a long moment. Then, she shook her head. “Forget it,” she muttered. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t understand.” She turned to Terminus. “Just start the ritual–”
Levi slashed his hand across the air and a terrible pressure exploded into the dining hall. She, Terminus, and everyone else froze, his magic slamming down and rooting them in place.
“Yeah, no,” he said. “That’s not happening.”
“Levi Ironwood,” Terminus said, his voice strained. “I thought you were more objective than this. Do we really have to go through this whole song and dance?”
“Bite me,” Levi said. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, by the way. You were the one who started this war? The fuck? After this is over, we need to have a talk. Until then, fuck off and let me do my job.”
“What job?”
Levi began to respond, but abruptly cut off when movement to his side drew his attention. He turned around to see Yuki take a step forward despite the tremendous pressure weighing her down.
“Why are you doing this?” she demanded, her entire form trembling with exertion. “I don’t get it. Why are you standing in our way?”
“She does have a point,” Selene spoke up from the side. This entire time, she’d been observing the proceedings with a detached expression. “The Bloodline Purge Ritual is by far the most optimal method to kill the Emperor. Even if you have some other trick up your sleeve, it’ll no doubt be far more dangerous and risky. Logically, you should just let them perform the ritual.”
“Logically,” Levi said. “Mathematically. Objectively. Rationally.” He shook his head. “You know, I’m really starting to hate those words. You’re correct, of course. But that doesn’t mean you’re right.” He turned back to Yuki. “You ask why I’m doing this? The answer is simple. It’s because the System gave me a certain Class. A Class I thought I had no right to have, but was granted anyway.”
“And what Class is that?” Yuki asked sarcastically. “[Godslayer]? [Tyrant-Ender]?”
Levi looked back, unflinching.
“[Hero].”
Yuki’s crimson eyes widened in shock. To the side, Terminus tensed up.
“That’s why I’m going to save you,” Levi said. “We may be in the Age of Adventurers, but… Heroes still exist.” At those words, Selene went very still. “Not only me, but others as well. In fact, there’s one who’s rather similar to you. She also has a pretty terrible father, but thankfully she was able to break free from his grasp. You should meet her some day. I think you’ll get along.”
“I…”
For a long moment, Yuki hesitated, and Levi thought he’d gotten through to her. Then, she shook her head. “No. You… You can’t save me.”
Levi narrowed his eyes.
“Can’t?” he asked. “Or shouldn’t?”
Yuki froze.
“You want to die,” Levi said in realization. “Or rather, you think you deserve to die – that you should die.” He scanned her intently. “Am I wrong?”
Levi Ironwood’s stare pierced into her, as though he was directly observing her very soul. It was unnerving. Yuki didn’t know how he could read her so well.
But…
“You’re right,” Yuki said. “I don’t deserve to live, not with this cursed blood running through my veins. Only through death can I atone for my family’s sins–”
“Yuki Samura!” Levi Ironwood shouted, and suddenly he was right in front of her, both hands on her shoulders, grey eyes peering into crimson. “You may believe otherwise, you may have been told otherwise, you may have been cursed and condemned so many times that you accepted it as truth, but–”
And his grey eyes burned with absolute conviction.
“–your father’s sins are not your own!”
Yuki’s eyes went wide.
“You are your own person,” Levi continued, his voice hard and resolute. “You have your own hopes, your own desires, your own dreams. The crimes the Emperor has committed are utterly irrelevant, because you are who you are, and no one fucking else! So believe me when I say: You deserve to live!”
Why…
Why was her vision so blurry?
Ah.
She was crying.
All her life, she had been treated as her father’s daughter. Yes, she was the leader of the Resistance, yes, she fought against her father, but when it came down to it, she was still a part of a tainted bloodline. Nobody, not a single soul, had treated her like she was her own person. Even within the Resistance, she felt the weight of her father’s sins constantly present in all her interactions, never acknowledged but always there.
Until she met Levi Ironwood.
Everyone she’d met so far had respected and honored her for deciding to die…
But he was the only one who’d told her that instead she should live.
“I can save you,” Levi said. “Please let me save you.” He tilted his head. “But I suppose, in the end, you’re still the Leader of the Resistance. It’s your call.” His grey eyes pierced into hers. “So, what do you say?”
Yuki looked at him, but through her tears, what she saw was a country she loved, a country she’d tried her utmost best to save, a country she desperately wanted to see prosper and thrive–
“I don’t want to die,” she confessed quietly.
And Levi smiled softly.
“Well said.”
“But…” Yuki swallowed. “Without the Bloodline Purge Ritual, how are you going to slay the Emperor?”
Levi hummed. “You said that [Bloodline Rebirth] bypasses all conventional and unconventional magic – and I suppose that must be true, because even the System’s adaptive skill selection isn’t giving me any new skills.” His eyes glinted as he turned to look at the Emperor, considering. “But what about magick?”