"What do you want to do?"
Bologue agreed to Ewen, as Ewen was worth it. This friendship was invaluable.
Ewen paused, straightened his back, and stood upright; in this, he was as stubborn as Bologue.
"I have already written a complete ending for this story, and now, Poet, this will be the first poem you write.
Please write my ending.
An ending for , one that is romantic and poetic enough."
Ewen grasped Bologue’s hands tightly, saring blood onto his palms. Bologue felt sothing indescribable, with remaining strength bestowed upon him, his words would beco reality.
"No... Ewen, no..."
"Listen to , Bologue," Ewen explained patiently, "Soone has to pass the story on, but that person doesn’t have to be ."
Ewen said happily, "I have everything here, there’s nothing left to chase."
Bologue heard Ewen’s whisper.
"The pen is already in your hand, what are you waiting for? Poet."
In an instant, a multitude of emotions surged in Bologue’s heart; it had been a long ti since he felt such an overwhelming urge to tears, as if warm sunlight was shining on him, as if a choir were singing hymns.
"Erwin Flesher."
Bologue spoke Ewen’s na with a trembling voice, summarizing his life.
"As you yourself wished, you truly are a noble person, whether in tis of crisis or at life’s end, you adhered to your principles."
Contented, Ewen released Bologue’s hands, feeling young once more, energy overflowing within him.
The wound on his abdon was healing, the wrinkles on his cheeks smoothing out, his once-clouded eyes turned clear again, his gray hair transford to a dazzling gold, youth once more graced Ewen.
anwhile, with Bologue’s narration, the long-silent typewriter, stained with blood, ca to life again, writing the final echoes.
"You are a great Poet and an unyielding warrior; in the Devil’s wager, you never surrendered... They could not defeat you from the start."
It seed as if a ghost was pressing the keys, printing all of Bologue’s words onto the page.
"We have won it all, the Hunters eradicated the darkness, they praised your noble deeds and recognized your character.
At the end of your life... at the end of your story, you bid a heartfelt farewell to your friends."
Bologue said while giving Ewen a hug, he hadn’t embraced soone this firmly in a long while, as if unwilling to let him leave. Then Ewen walked towards Palr, shaking hands tightly with this avid fan.
Ewen asked, "Do you like my gift?"
Palr nodded in response, "It’s wonderful."
Ewen then looked at Aimou, signaling to her, Aimou’s eyes narrowed slightly in response.
Warm morning light spread from the far horizon, outlining the earth as if inlaid with golden threads.
Ewen turned back, trying to find Asmodeus’s figure, but within the great library, only the four of them remained, not knowing when she had left.
Thus, Ewen shouted into the void, "I will miss you."
"I will miss you."
An echo returned from the void, as always.
Bologue softly said, "You walk toward the sea of flowers."
Ewen left the great library, with every step forward he grew younger, leaping nimbly over the piles of rubble and bodies, striding into the beautiful sea of flowers once again, passing through them.
The piercing whistle blared once more from the Dawn, the Hunters were ready to leave; this heavy armored train slowly began to move, its starting speed sluggish, monster blood seeping through its wheels, soone leaned out from the locomotive, waving their hat vigorously at Ewen, urging him.
"You stride and run swiftly like a cheetah."
Ewen ran towards the moving Dawn, gaining speed briskly, trailing a wake of petals behind him, yet he still couldn’t catch up with the train, that roaring beast of steel wouldn’t wait for anyone.
"You find yourself becoming lighter, your running faster and faster."
Bologue took a deep breath, speaking with all his strength.
"Suddenly, you took flight."
Azure feathers grew from under Ewen’s arms; flapping his hands, he rose into the air, more feathers quickly covering Ewen’s body, turning him into a brilliant shade of blue.
"Ewen, you’ve transford into a bird, a bird clad in blue feathers."
The bird flew over flowers and heaps of bodies, through dense fog, flapping its wings, following ahead with the Dawn.
"Fly! Fly!
You caught up with them, entered the story you wrote."
Hunters leaned out, hands held high, the bird descended gently onto their palms.
"You departed with the characters you created... beginning another endless journey."
The Dawn vanished into the gleaming morning light, and at this mont, Bologue ceased his narration. He could no longer see that bird.
"This is your ending."
Bologue suddenly felt an unbearable fatigue, nearly collapsing altogether; he looked at his friends, each having heard the sound like shattering glass, growing more frequent as though a glacier was collapsing.
Strange fissures transcended space’s confines, spreading through every broken part of reality, the concentration of Ether reaching a peak instantaneously declined, welcoming the final disintegration.
Absolute darkness descended, dawn’s light surged once more.
When Bologue regained his sight, he found himself within the great library, the library showing no signs of collapse, nor any trace of battle, the large windows lacking the strange vines, and moreover, outside Daisy Castle, the sea of daisies quietly swayed.
No blood, no corpses, no devastated battlefield, even the traces of Dawn’s passing were absent.
Bologue felt a bit dazed, as if all he experienced was just an illusion.
Was it really an illusion?
Bologue discovered a twelve-sided die on Ewen’s desk, picking it up nervously and casting it.
Nothing abnormal happened, it was just an ordinary twelve-sided die.
As Bologue intended to retrieve the die, he noticed it fell beside a stack of neatly arranged manuscripts; seeing the script upon it, Bologue’s gaze wavered, following that, he saw the familiar typewriter, impeccably clean, without a trace of blood, placed at the center of the desk, a page brimming with text inserted above.
Reading the words on the page, after a long silence, with a mournful heart, Bologue extended a hand, fingertips gently pressing the tal keys, exhausting every effort to inscribe the final touch on this story.
A crisp tallic sound echoed through the great library, a fresh line of dark letters printed at the bottom of the page.
"The End."
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