Liberi Reader

Who are you?!

I told you not to turn around. You let the mark get away.

I said, who the hell are you?!

Easy now, my dear Graf. Settle down.

My official identity can be a bit messy to explain, so just treat me as a spy. I am called Biegler.

You... Why'd you have to jump out this exact moment? That man escaped because of YOU!

Considering he ended up down in the sewers, it'll take him a long time to find another exit.

Besides, you stopped him before he went into the sewer. Who knows, maybe the two of you saw that you were in a disadvantageous position and tried to put on a little show to try to fool me.

You seriously think we're in cahoots? He and I?!

Or are you going to tell me that someone coerced you into going to see Gertrude? Spare me the bad jokes.

......

You're worth much more than he is, Graf Urtica.

You can't stop me.

When it comes to combat ability, it is true that I can't stop you. But think carefully.

This is a job straight from Their Majesties. Take a look.

I've dealt with these things since I was six.

I personally don't mind your snark, but you'd best show some self-restraint when it comes to Their Majesties' affairs.

Restraint? When you, a lowly spy, figure out that you've got the wrong person, you're going to be the one begging for forgiveness.

You don't seem to understand the situation you're in, my good Graf Urtica.

But enough of that. Don't try to stall for time here. Come with me.

Where to?

To where you belong. Don't worry, we've prepared detention facilities for suspects from all walks of life. I assure you, you'll enjoy the finest treatment.

Let me tell you something, Herr Biegler.

Ready to beg for mercy? Or is it a bribe? In case of the latter, I'd be more than glad to oblige.

I doubt a little bit of money is enough for you to let me go. Why do I get the impression that you'd take me away regardless, even after you pocketed the money?

Clever boy.

I find you rather easy to get along with, Herr Biegler. You remind me of the Urtica I know so well, where most of the people are just as 'upstanding' as you.

I am honored to hear that.

But what I really want to know is what that man is doing in the sewers.

But you were the one who stopped him, right under my nose.

Well, this is a bit embarrassing to say, but I wanted to resolve things up here.

One of my agents liked to tell stories that would make you want to hurl. Of the ones that instantly killed your appetite for the day, the worst all came from the sewers.

Ah. If your stomach is upset, perhaps we should go for a cup of coffee to smooth things over.

I'd love to, but I'd much rather find out what he's doing down there. I might as well go after him.

And this is all your fault, Herr Biegler.

As long as you let me head down, you can keep pointing your wand at me. I won't try to run.

......

I will warn you in advance—There will be consequences for running away from me without authorization, regardless of the reason.

What kind? Will you put me down?

You'd at least be stripped of your status. Even if you're proven innocent in the future, you'd never be able to step into the Spire of Urtica ever again.

Don't threaten me with a good time. I might be even more inclined to try running now.

(Shakes head)

In any case, since you insist on heading down there... After you, Graf Urtica.

I'll be keeping a close eye on you.

Hibiscus, this isn't a lecture, but y'can't speak to Mein Herr that way.

But, Mr. Czerny is...

There's lots of things he can't say, leavin' this old lady to say 'em.

Please come in.

Do you know how the Afterglow got its name?

I don't.

Mein Herr once said...

'It is precisely because night falls, that the afterglow is even more precious. If the long veil of night were to never lift, what could be more dazzling and awe-inspiring than the warm afterglow?'

It's a wonderful saying, but...

Oh, the two over there are–– Frau Ursula, and Hibiscus?

Come, come! If you want to chat, do it over here!

Why the long face, Hibiscus? Did something happen?

If you're worried that my food isn't healthy enough, I also have sparkling water here. Come, come!

We're still––

Let's oblige him this time.

Frau Ursula, what's wrong with Hibiscus? Did she get into an argument?

No, none of that. Enough random guessing.

I was telling Hibiscus about the history of the Afterglow.

The Afterglow's history? Now that's something I couldn't be more familiar with.

Not bragging either. But I bet I know even more than Frau Ursula here.

The Afterglow didn't used to be a residential area for the Infected. It was one of Vyseheim's industrial plates.

Don't underestimate me just because I'm setting up shop over here. Back in the day, I was in charge of feeding hundreds of associates.

Industry... Could it be that this place was turned into an Infected residential area because of the spread of Oripathy due to industrial waste?

Industrialization did bring a lot of Infected here, but back in Leithanien's old days, there was no such thing as a ghetto for Infected... Hah, I won't keep rambling on.

One year, Vyseheim constructed a magnificent concert hall that shocked the world with but a single order from Him, His Majesty... known now as our Afterglow Hall. Back then, that's not what the concert hall was called.

His Majesty? Which one are you referring to?

Oh dear, Hibiscus, let's not worry about the details, alright?

If it's 'His' Majesty...

...I get it.

When the concert hall was completed, 'He' still reigned, and nobody dared to say anything.

But He left us just as quickly, and Graf Strollo, who took over Vyseheim, hated this concert hall.

Maybe hate isn't the right word, but rather... was too quick to show loyalty?

Shh–– No random guessing.

A few years later, the powers issued an order to supposedly improve the treatment of the Infected. The Graf at that time took the opportunity to lump the concert hall together with the industrial plate, and turned it all into the Infected ghetto.

I looked all over and before that, there were no such things as 'Infected quarters' anywhere in Leithanien.

The Count, the Graf, at that time... Wasn't that the very same Dame Gertrude?

It was either her father–– or her oldest brother... I can't really remember, but it wasn't actually her.

Though the Graf at the time designated this area for the Infected, he didn't care whether the people in it lived or died. He even had all the industrial facilities torn down.

Obviously, to have us fend for ourselves.

So among the nobles, this place became known as 'the Afterglow,' and the concert hall also became the 'Afterglow Hall.'

The name, 'Afterglow,' represented the idea that we wouldn't last long, just like the last rays of light in the evening.

That... That's simply cruel and unusual.

It was pretty over-the-top.

But for the Afterglow at the time, that word was a perfect fit.

Everyone fought desperately to survive, to let the lingering rays of sunlight on the horizon struggle for just a bit longer.

We set up stalls, we ran errands. Some of us even turned into hired thugs for rich people in the other plates... Hah, those were some chaotic years.

Later on, Herr Czerny stepped forward.

Stepped forward?

He started out as a nobody.

He had written a few pieces, but since he was an Infected, everything was published anonymously.

His works were magnificent, even attracting attention from the fancy folk atop the spires. But once they saw that Herr Czerny was from the Afterglow, they quickly turned away and left.

That was until he wrote 'Morgen und Abend.'

Ursula would be more qualified to speak about 'Morgen und Abend' than me, so I'll turn the floor over to her.

Ms. Ursula?

Oh, it's actually quite simple.

The one who taught piano to Mein Herr had a daughter, and she was good friends with him.

The two were on very good terms, and they were just about as good as each other. They were awfully competitive, always trying to one-up the other.

Sadly, the girl passed away when Mein Herr was twenty years old.

......

Losing her was a huge blow to him. Day in n' day out, he spoke hardly a word. He grew thinner and thinner by the day.

Until finally, he showed a stack of sheet music, told me it's his newest composition, and that he wasn't gonna publish anonymously this time.

The Gräfin then–– she was the very same Dame you mentioned.

Still don't know why, by the Gräfin sought out Mein Herr.

She became his sponsor, and also went 'long with all his ideas. She gave him her full backing, finally lettin' 'Morgen und Abend' carry the Czerny, and spread it all throughout the Afterglow.

I can't imagine that.

But I'm starting to understand a bit of what Mr. Czerny meant in his saying...

'Morgen und Abend' was so popular and beloved, the folk in the spires couldn't blind eye anymore. They had no choice, they had to acknowledge Mein Herr's talent.

So then, Mr. Czerny began to cultivate people in the Afterglow who had musical talent?

That's right. Seeing as how we are in Leithanien, the one thing we aren't short on is musicians! I may not have any talent, but even I...

Oh stop it, you're just being humble.

A few years ago you were still playin' the accordion while yodelin' about your pickled cabbage.

Haha, back in my factory days, I had to gather everyone up for lunch. Way easier to use an accordion than to shout.

Anyway, once music became a part of the Afterglow, our worst days finally passed.

Composin', performin', teachin', makin' instruments...

Plenty of folk publish their compositions anonymously, and most performers can't leave the Afterglow. But still, the money it brought in gave the Afterglow a foot in the door.

But before long, Mein Herr got into some big fight with the Gräfin.

A big fight?

Looked like a clash of ideas... not that understand such things.

The Gräfin stayed the Herr's patron, but the two have hardly made contact since.

Andante? What's wrong?

Kreide's grandfather... he's gone missing?

I'll head back right away!

Thank you very much! See you!

Goodbye, hope to see you again! If anything doesn't fit quite right, bring it back and I'll fix it for you!

(It's already so late... Ebenholz should be back by now, right?)

Huh, what is that...?

An Originium slug?