"Good day, Miss Jeanne."
Within the interior of the Azazel Clinic—an establishment dedicated to treating the infected within the city of Chernobog—Hellagur extended a steaming cup of tea to the maiden who had traveled from afar, greeting her with measured warmth.
He understood perfectly well why Jeanne had come to see him today. Yet, a part of him still found it difficult to accept that such a monumental shift was truly poised to manifest during his own lifetime. It was undoubtedly the most unexpected turn of events in his long years.
Initially, Hellagur had agreed to support Reunion's proposal merely to see what might come of it. However, over the past months, he had closely observed the vast transformations ripple across the empire due to their influence. The degree of change was nothing short of astonishing.
"Since your journey has brought you here today, does it imply that you and Reunion are finally poised to initiate that great endeavor?"
Hellagur looked at the smiling young maiden before him with genuine intrigue. This girl had brought immense practical relief to Azazel over the recent months, whether through the restorative properties of her holy water or her widespread campaign of unconditional compassion.
Consequently, a profound respect laced Hellagur's tone. It was a silent acknowledgment of gratitude for the numerous times she had extended a helping hand, enabling his clinic to secure vital support from other benevolent souls. This respect stemmed from his very core as the leader of Azazel.
"Yes, General Hellagur. Before long, the hour will arrive for Reunion to formally assume management of this city. When that transition occurs, we will require the full cooperation of Azazel—and specifically your own presence—to assist us in keeping the peace."
Jeanne spoke with exceptional courtesy. Although these terms had already been firmly established in their prior agreement, her tone carried the humble weight of someone requesting a legendary, secluded veteran to draw his blade once more.
"There is zero need for such excessive formality. Is this not the very duty we pledged to uphold? We previously agreed that when the hour strikes, Azazel will step forward to keep the situation under control."
Hellagur waved a hand dismissing the praise, feeling slightly self-conscious beneath Jeanne's deferential approach. After all, this was a commitment he had given willingly; it was simply the right thing to do.
"However, we must address certain harsh realities beforehand," Hellagur added, his voice dropping an octave. His expression grew remarkably solemn, making it abundantly clear that he was turning his focus to critical matters.
"Even with the full weight of Azazel's influence, we cannot expect to govern every single infected person within these walls. Not everyone will be inclined to heed our counsel. We can only pledge to exert our utmost effort. If circumstances dictate, I will not hesitate to employ physical force, but..."
As the words left his mouth, Hellagur's fingers instinctively brushed against the hilt of the weapon resting at his side. He had never anticipated a scenario where he would choose to unsheathe his war blade once more. It was a reality this old soldier had thought impossible.
He had genuinely believed his days of drawing this weapon were behind him, feeling there was little left in this world worth fighting for—save for ensuring the safety of young Neon.
"That reality is fully expected on our end. We have zero intention of shifting the entire burden of keeping order onto your shoulders. When all is said and done, the responsibility remains ours alone, and I shall be personally directing the efforts on the ground," Jeanne answered with a firm nod.
Hearing that Jeanne would personally supervise the efforts to maintain order, the lingering knot of anxiety in Hellagur's chest loosened considerably.
It was a strange phenomenon, yet whenever Hellagur learned that a particular endeavor was being directly managed by Jeanne, an instinctive certainty washed over him that the matter would conclude successfully.
This was precisely why Talulah had designated Jeanne to handle this responsibility. For reasons no one could fully decipher, the local crowds were remarkably cooperative when dealing with the maiden. Leveraging her moral authority to pacify potential riots among the infected population was a highly practical choice.
"Even so, your methods are bound to provoke immense resentment. The deep-seated malice the infected harbor toward the uninfected civilians is no trivial matter. By preventing them from extracting vengeance, you will find that zero souls on either side will offer you genuine gratitude."
Hellagur voiced his thoughts with a deeply conflicted heart. He recognized that the path Jeanne and Talulah had chosen was morally sound, yet a correct choice did not always equate to a smooth journey—especially under these volatile circumstances.
The most probable outcome would not be both factions honoring Reunion for their restraint. Instead, it was highly likely that neither side would remember the movement's benevolence, choosing instead to view the organization as a mutual adversary.
The infected would not miraculously alter their deep-seated prejudices simply because Reunion preached compassion, and they might well brand the movement as traitors to their own kind for shielding the uninfected citizens from harm.
Yet, if they chose to do nothing, Hellagur knew the alternative was unthinkable. Remaining passive onlookers would inevitably allow the mobile city to devolve into a literal slaughterhouse.
Prior to this conversation, Hellagur had already resolved to shoulder this thankless task himself, viewing it as a fitting repayment for the immense aid Jeanne had provided to Azazel—most notably, for stabilizing Neon's failing health against the relentless advance of Oripathy.
The two anchors that gave his remaining years any semblance of meaning had been preserved by Jeanne's intervention. If he had to endure public scorn to support her cause, what of it? It was hardly the first time in his storied military career that he had executed an unpopular command.
"We are fully aware of the consequences," Jeanne replied calmly. "But our actions cannot be swayed merely by a desire to court public favor. We must ensure our movement does not stumble into an immoral choice."
Seeing that Jeanne possessed such unwavering resolve, Hellagur offered a soft smile and let the matter drop. This mature young maiden possessed a clear vision; it was not his place to interfere with her determination.
"Then I shall wish your endeavors nothing but a smooth conclusion! To think that after all this time, the day would arrive where this old soldier would grasp his blade once more to fight for a brand-new future!"
A trace of genuine excitement colored Hellagur's demeanor. He found himself deeply eager to witness the reality Jeanne so vividly described. Would this grand experiment collapse in a flash of chaos, or would it rise as a monumental beacon of hope across the continent of Terra?
Ever since he had severed his ties with the imperial military, ever since he had watched the old Ursus devolve into its current state while living amidst the grim reality of this harsh empire, this was the first time Hellagur felt a genuine desire to see what tomorrow might bring.
"It shall be an event to remember! Commander Patriot mentioned to me that once he arrives within the city limits, he looks forward to sitting down with you to recount your shared history from the old campaigns," Jeanne remarked with a pleasant smile, noting the veteran's rekindled spark.
"Patriot... it has indeed been quite a few winters since we last crossed paths," Hellagur mused, the name evoking memories of that towering figure and the fierce campaigns they had navigated side by side.
"I shall eagerly await his arrival. It seems I must begin restoring my strength; otherwise, if this old frame suffers a sudden strain on the battlefield, I will never hear the end of his jests."
As he spoke, Hellagur gently traced the scabbard of his weapon. The focus in his eyes belonged to a seasoned warrior who had fully dedicated his spirit to the coming conflict.
Seeing that her primary messages had been successfully delivered, Jeanne offered her formal farewells and departed. Hellagur tracked her retreating form until she vanished beyond the threshold, sinking into deep contemplation.
The emotions swirling within him extended far beyond the simple enthusiasm Jeanne had observed; beneath the surface lay a profound trace of anxiety. He genuinely could not discern whether the path they were charting would ultimately prove correct or flawed.
He felt the weight of his advanced years. The landscape of Ursus, which had once seemed so straightforward during his military days, had grown exceptionally convoluted due to the rise of these young reformers—so intricate that he could no longer see the ultimate conclusion.
Yet, the vision Jeanne articulated was undeniably beautiful: a unified mobile city capable of housing both the infected and the uninfected on equal footing. It was an unprecedented social experiment in the history of Terra.
He desperately wanted to see what profound transformations such a city would unleash upon the wider world.
"I half expected you to decline her request entirely. Have you not always maintained that an open confrontation with the empire is an act of sheer folly?" Neon inquired, stepping out from the adjoining room, her gaze fixed curiously on Hellagur.
"I simply maintain that treating Ursus as a direct enemy is an irrational endeavor. Even as this massive imperial beast inches toward its eventual demise, its raw strength remains far too formidable for any ordinary faction to shatter. The only force capable of dismantling Ursus is Ursus itself," Hellagur explained patiently, returning to the meticulous maintenance of his war blade.
"However, since they have successfully secured a formal treaty of cooperation with the Emperor, their probability of success has risen dramatically. Though the exact methods they employed to sway the Emperor remain a mystery to me, this alliance represents an exceptional opportunity."
By this time, Jeanne had fully exited the clinic, stepping back onto the dark paths of the city. She pressed forward through the urban landscape, intent on fulfilling her remaining tasks. Watching her figure fade into the distance, Hellagur murmured softly:
"They truly possess the capacity to reshape the empire. So long as their focus remains fixed on the principles they preach, their very presence will alter the course of history!"