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Part-384

  Chapter : 1601

  It was a quiet, dusty voice. Lloyd didn't turn. He couldn't look away from Jasmin.

  Headmaster Valerius stepped up beside him. The ancient mage looked exhausted. His robes were stained with soot and dust. He held a small wooden box in his hands.

  "There wasn't... there wasn't much left," Valerius said, his voice trembling slightly. "The attack... it shattered her form. She turned into diamond dust. I... I used a gathering spell. I collected every speck I could find from the courtyard."

  He placed the box on the bier, next to her feet.

  "But her body..." Lloyd whispered. His voice sounded strange to his own ears. Hollow. "Her body is here."

  "The spirit shattered," Valerius explained gently. "The physical form... it remained. But the damage..."

  Valerius stopped. He didn't need to explain. The [All-Seeing Eye] was already active.

  It had happened involuntarily. Lloyd’s panic had triggered his survival instincts, and the Eye had snapped open.

  Usually, when he looked at a person, he see a galaxy of biological light. He saw the pulsing red of the heart, the blue flow of the nervous system, the golden hum of the spirit core. He saw life.

  Now, he saw nothing.

  He looked at Jasmin through the Eye, and it was like looking at an empty room. There was no heat. There was no electrical impulse. The complex, beautiful machinery of her biology was silent.

  But the worst part was the core.

  In the center of her chest, where her Spirit Core should have been—the glowing ember that made her a Spirit User, the source of her Diamond Queen—there was a void.

  It wasn't just broken. It was erased. The core had been pulverized into dust. The channels that carried her mana were burned out, scorched black by an overwhelming energy.

  She is gone, the System Administrator whispered in his mind. Biological function: Ceased. Spiritual signature: Null. Revival probability: 0.000%.

  Lloyd gripped the edge of the bier. His knuckles turned white. He squeezed until the wood creaked.

  Why?

  The question screamed in his head. Why her? She wasn't a soldier. She wasn't a lord. She was a maid. She liked honey-cakes. She sang to the orphans. Why is she the one on the table?

  He felt a hand on his shoulder. It was heavy.

  He turned his head slowly.

  Ken Park was there. The stoic bodyguard. The man who never showed emotion. The man who had faced armies without blinking.

  Ken was on his knees.

  He had collapsed beside the bier. His head was bowed, his forehead resting against the wood. His shoulders were heaving. He was making a sound Lloyd had never heard before—a low, ragged keening sound, like a wounded animal.

  Ken had loved her. Not romantically, he had loved her like a sister. Like a bright spot in his dark world. They were the servants of the monster. They were the ones who kept Lloyd human.

  And now she was dead.

  Lloyd looked back at Jasmin. He reached out and touched her cheek. It was cold. It wasn't the cold of winter. It was the cold of an object.

  "Jasmin," he whispered.

  He waited for an answer.

  There was no answer.

  The finality of it hit him like a physical blow. This wasn't a puzzle he could solve. This wasn't a trap he could think his way out of. He couldn't build a machine to fix this. He couldn't negotiate with death.

  He had become a god of industry. He had become a master of war. He had defied kings and demons.

  But he couldn't save his handmaiden.

  A shadow fell over them.

  Lloyd looked up. His father, Roy, was standing in the doorway of the infirmary. He was leaning heavily on a crutch, his face pale and covered in a sheen of sweat. He shouldn't have been walking. He looked like he was about to collapse.

  But he dragged himself into the room. He limped toward the bier. The crowd parted for him, terrified by the look on his face.

  Roy stopped at the foot of the bier. He looked at his son. He looked at the dead girl.

  "Lloyd," Roy rasped.

  Lloyd stared at his father. He felt a sudden, irrational surge of anger. Why are you alive? the dark thought whispered. You are the Arch Duke. You are the soldier. Why is the little girl dead and you are standing there?

  He crushed the thought. But the pain remained.

  "Tell me," Lloyd said. His voice was a flat, dead thing. "Tell me what happened."

  Chapter : 1602

  Roy closed his eyes. He took a shuddering breath.

  "Lucifer," Roy said.

  ________________________________________

  "Lucifer," Roy repeated. The name sucked the remaining air out of the room.

  Lloyd stood frozen. His mind, usually a high-speed processor of tactics and strategies, ground to a halt. Lucifer. The Devil King of Pride. One of the Seven Monarchs of the Abyss.

  "He came alone," Roy rasped, leaning heavily on the bier as if it were the only thing keeping him upright. "He descended from the sky. He crushed the guards with gravity. He broke the gates with a word."

  Roy looked at his son, his eyes filled with a shame so deep it looked like physical pain. "I fought him, Lloyd. I summoned Gog and Magog. I used the full power of the Steel Blood. I threw everything I had at him."

  Roy looked at his bandaged shoulder, at the empty space where his arm used to hold a sword. "He played with me. He used an artifact... a Lodestone. He stripped my power. He crumbled my spirits. He put me on my knees in the dirt."

  Lloyd listened. He didn't blink. He absorbed the data. A King-Level Devil. An anti-metal artifact. Total defeat.

  "He was going to kill me," Roy whispered. "He formed a spear of darkness. The Spear of Nihil. It erases the soul. He was going to put it through my heart. I was dead, Lloyd. I had accepted it."

  Roy looked down at Jasmin’s face. His expression broke. The iron mask of the Arch Duke shattered, leaving only a grieving old man.

  "She... she jumped," Roy choked out.

  Lloyd’s eyes widened. "What?"

  "She was hiding," Roy said, tears spilling down his cheeks. "She was safe. He didn't know she was there. She could have stayed in the shadows. She could have lived."

  Roy gripped the edge of the bier. "But she ran. She ran into the pressure that flattened knights. She turned herself into diamond. She threw herself between the spear and me."

  Lloyd looked at Jasmin’s small body. He imagined it. He imagined her terror. She was terrified of loud noises. She was scared of thunder. And yet...

  "She caught it," Roy whispered in awe. "For one second... she stopped a god. She held the spear. She bought me time. The explosion of her spirit... it deflected the blow. It saved my life."

  Roy looked up at Lloyd, his eyes burning with intensity.

  "She didn't do it for me, Lloyd. She barely knew me. I was just the Lord. I was just the boss."

  Roy reached out and grabbed Lloyd’s arm. His grip was weak, but desperate.

  "She died for you," Roy said.

  The words hit Lloyd like a hammer to the chest.

  "She knew," Roy said. "She knew that if I died... if the House fell... you would be alone. She knew you needed a father. She knew you needed a home to come back to. She sacrificed herself to save your world, Lloyd."

  Lloyd staggered back. He pulled his arm from his father's grip.

  "No," Lloyd whispered. "No."

  "Yes," Roy insisted. "Her last thought... I felt it. Her spirit projected it. She wanted me to tell you. She wanted you to know she did her job. She wanted you to know she was your shield."

  Lloyd looked at the girl. The shield. The Diamond Queen.

  The weight of it crashed down on him. It wasn't just a casualty of war. It was a transaction. Her life for his comfort. Her future for his father's survival.

  She had paid the price for his war.

  The silence returned. But now it was heavy with the truth.

  Lloyd looked at Jasmin, and the present faded. The infirmary dissolved. The sobbing of Faria and Mei Jing faded away.

  He was back in the past.

  Flashback.

  The manufactory. It was late. The air smelled of rosemary and lye. Lloyd was working on a formula, frustrated, muttering to himself.

  "Master Lloyd?"

  He turned. Jasmin was standing there, holding a tray. A steaming mug of tea and a plate of those honey-cakes she liked.

  "You looked... like you forgot to eat," she said shyly. "Again."

  She smiled. It was a small, hesitant smile. The smile of a girl who was used to being invisible but was learning to be seen.

  Flashback shifts.

  The white void of his pocket dimension. Training. Jasmin was on the ground, panting, sweating. She was trying to summon her diamond skin.

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  "I can't do it," she cried. "I'm not strong enough. I'm just a maid."

  Chapter : 1603

  Lloyd knelt beside her. "You are not just a maid. You are the hardest thing in this world, Jasmin. You have endured a life that would break a lesser person. Use that. Use your stubbornness."

  She looked at him. Her eyes hardened. She stood up. And her skin turned to crystal.

  Flashback shifts.

  The carriage ride to Altamira. She was terrified. They were going into enemy territory. But she didn't complain. She sat straight, clutching her bag of medical supplies.

  "Are you scared?" Lloyd asked.

  "Yes," she admitted.

  "We can turn back."

  "No," she said. "You made a promise to Pia. And I made a promise to you. I go where you go, Master."

  Flashback shifts.

  A quiet afternoon in the garden. She was humming. She was brushing her hair with the silver comb he had given her. She saw him watching and blushed bright red, hiding the comb behind her back.

  "It's... it's beautiful, Master. Thank you."

  "It's just a comb, Jasmin."

  "No," she whispered. "To me... it's a treasure."

  End of Flashback.

  Lloyd stared at the dead girl holding the silver hairpin. The hairpin he had bought for three silver coins. The treasure she had died holding.

  She was innocent. She wasn't a warrior born to die on a battlefield. She was a girl who liked flowers and sweets and singing. She was the best part of his new life. She was the proof that he could build something good, something pure.

  And he had gotten her killed.

  He had brought her into this world of shadows and gods. He had trained her. He had given her power. And that power had led her to this table.

  If he had left her in the kitchen... she would be alive. She would be sweeping floors, alive. She would be marrying a baker, alive.

  The guilt was a physical agony. It felt like his heart was being crushed in a vice.

  He looked at Ken, still kneeling, his shoulders shaking. He looked at his father, broken and shamed. He looked at Faria and Mei Jing, their faces wet with tears.

  They were all looking at him. Waiting for him to fix it. Waiting for the genius, the miracle worker, the man who defied death, to pull a solution out of his pocket.

  But he had nothing.

  His [All-Seeing Eye] showed him only dead cells. His Lilith Stones were just rocks. His spirits were just weapons.

  He was powerless.

  Lloyd Ferrum, the man who planned to kill gods, couldn't save one girl.

  His knees gave out. He didn't fall dramatically. He just sank. He slumped against the side of the bier, sliding down until he was sitting on the cold stone floor. He rested his forehead against the wood, just inches from her cold hand.

  He didn't scream. He didn't rage. He just sat there, in the ruin of his victory, and let the crushing weight of her sacrifice break his heart into a million jagged pieces.

  "I'm sorry," he whispered into the wood. "I'm so sorry, Little Squirrel."

  The room was silent, save for the sound of the Lions of the North mourning the smallest among them.

  The morning of the funeral was gray. It wasn’t raining, which felt wrong. It should have been pouring. The sky should have been weeping buckets to match the mood on the ground, but instead, the weather was just dull, flat, and indifferent. It was a perfect reflection of how the universe felt about the death of one small girl: it didn't care. But Lloyd cared.

  The preparations had been made in record time. Usually, a funeral for a member of the Ferrum household took weeks of planning. There were protocols, guest lists, and specific types of flowers that had to be imported from the south. Lloyd had cancelled all of that. He didn't want a parade. He didn't want fake tears from minor nobles who barely knew her name. He wanted silence, and he wanted respect.

  The coffin was simple but beautiful. It was made of white ash wood, polished until it shone like glass. There were no gold inlays or gaudy carvings. It was pure and clean, just like she had been. It sat on a wooden stand in the center of the estate’s main courtyard, the same place where she had died. The blood had been scrubbed away, the rubble cleared, but Lloyd could still see the phantom crater where the Diamond Queen had made her last stand.

  Chapter : 1604

  Servants, guards, and the few remaining members of the household stood in a wide circle. They were dressed in black. Many of them were crying. Ken Park stood near the front, his face a mask of stone, but his eyes were red-rimmed and hollow. He looked like a man who had been hollowed out from the inside. Beside him stood Faria and Mei Jing, holding each other for support. Even the usually stoic Head Maid Annalisa was wiping her eyes with a handkerchief.

  When the time came to move the coffin to the crypt, six burly guards stepped forward. They were the pallbearers, strong men chosen for the task. They reached for the handles.

  "Stop," Lloyd said.

  His voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the silence like a whip. The guards froze, looking at him with confusion and fear. Lloyd stepped forward. He was wearing a simple black suit, no armor, no medals, no signs of his rank. He looked pale, like he hadn't slept in a week, which was true.

  "Step away," Lloyd commanded.

  "My Lord," one of the guards stammered, bowing his head. "It is heavy. It is our duty to carry the burden."

  "It is not your burden," Lloyd said, walking up to the white coffin. He placed his hand on the smooth wood. It felt cold. "She carried my burdens when she was alive. She carried the weight of this entire house on her shoulders. I will not let anyone else carry her now."

  He looked at Ken. "Ken. Take the back."

  Ken nodded once, a sharp, jerky motion. He stepped forward, pushing the guards aside gently but firmly.

  "My Lord," the estate steward whispered nervously, stepping out from the crowd. "This is highly irregular. The Ferrum Crypt... it is reserved strictly for those of the Bloodline. For Lords and Ladies. For heroes who saved the Duchy. Jasmin was... she was a servant. A beloved one, yes, but protocol dictates she be buried in the servant's plot on the east hill."

  Lloyd turned his head slowly to look at the steward. His eyes were dry. There were no tears in them. There was just a vast, empty space where his patience used to be.

  "Protocol?" Lloyd repeated the word as if it were a foreign language. "Protocol dictates that a servant does not jump in front of a Devil King to save an Arch Duke. Protocol dictates that a maid does not have the soul of a warrior. Jasmin broke every protocol in existence when she died."

  He walked closer to the steward, who shrank back.

  "She saved my father," Lloyd said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "She saved the Sovereign of this land. That makes her a hero of the Duchy. And she died because of me. That makes her family. She has earned her place in the stone. If anyone has a problem with that, they can take it up with me. And I am not in a mood to debate."

  The steward gulped and bowed deeply, retreating into the crowd. "As you command, My Lord."

  Lloyd turned back to the coffin. He gripped the front handles. Ken gripped the back.

  "Ready?" Lloyd asked.

  "Ready, Master," Ken choked out.

  They lifted. The coffin was heavy, heavier than it looked. It contained not just a body, but the weight of Lloyd’s failure. They began the slow walk toward the entrance of the Family Crypt. It was located beneath the ancient chapel on the west side of the estate. It was a place of shadows and old stone, where fifty generations of Ferrum lords lay in eternal rest.

  As they walked, Lloyd didn't look at the crowd. He looked straight ahead. He focused on the weight in his hands. He wanted to feel it. He wanted his muscles to burn. He wanted the physical strain to distract him from the screaming in his mind. Every step was a punishment he gladly accepted.

  They passed the spot where the Diamond Queen had shattered. Lloyd forced himself to look at the ground. There were still tiny, microscopic glitters in the cracks of the cobblestones—diamond dust that couldn't be swept away.

  You should be walking beside me, Lloyd thought. You should be holding a clipboard and scolding me for not eating lunch. You shouldn't be in this box.

  They reached the heavy iron doors of the crypt. Two guards opened them, revealing a staircase that descended into darkness. Cold air rushed up to meet them, smelling of earth and time.

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