Codex Null: Simulation Through Madness
Chapter 37: Last Battle (4)

Chapter 37: Last Battle (4)

Serah’s eyes narrowed as she looked toward the distance where Clarissa had disappeared.

A pang of regret surfaced — maybe she should’ve made a move after all.

But there was no time to dwell on that now.

Because the battlefield had already erupted once more.

The moment Clarissa left, the tension shattered, and chaos returned.

Some attacked to vent their frustration over their loss.

Others were out for revenge, still fuming over those Noel had killed from their group.

And a few — eyes gleaming with desperation — charged in, hoping to seize the relic he had revealed.

They all knew it was dangerous.

They all understood that relic was likely more of a curse than a blessing.

That possessing it could bring death faster than power.

And yet — greed still won.

Through it all, Serah stood still, quietly watching Noel.

He had already killed over a hundred people. And that number kept climbing.

With Selena gone, the weight that had been holding him down was gone, too.

He wasn’t defending anyone anymore.

He was just... rampaging.

Throwing away all defense — consumed by madness — he tore through the battlefield, the power of Destruction Law erupting around him like a storm.

There was no hesitation in him. No thoughts of retreat.

And now, those who had provoked him — who once looked down on him for his age — were starting to regret it.

But it was already too late.

The valley itself felt like it was unraveling under the pressure of his wrath.

Serah continued watching, her eyes gleaming with something between admiration... and something deeper. Something far more dangerous.

And then she noticed it.

The Witches — making bold, unmistakable moves now, their subtlety discarded.

The Order of the Veil — spreading wide like a silent plague, their intent finally made clear.

And at that moment, Serah made her decision.

She turned away from the front lines, from the chaos where Noel raged like a storm, and looked to her followers gathered behind.

They were trembling — not from fear, but from restraint.

Barely holding themselves back.

Her eyes lit with purpose, flames flickering in their depths, and she drew a long, steady breath.

Then she spoke.

"The snow is already dyed red — and none of it is by our hands."

"I admit it — I was mesmerized. Entranced by the carnage... by a boy around my age tearing this battlefield apart."

"I wanted to watch him longer."

"But that’s enough."

Though she faced her cult, her heart was still turned to the battlefield.

She could feel the shockwaves through her back — every tremor, every rupture, every scream.

Her voice turned sharp, slicing through the frozen air.

"I will not stand here and be a spectator to history."

"This bloodbath — this chaos — it belongs to us."

Black flames erupted from her body, swirling wild and untamed, as if echoing the madness she now embraced.

Her eyes didn’t shine with pity.

Not with envy.

But with pure, unfiltered desire.

The desire to fight beside the one who was madness itself.

Even if she could never have him...

Even if he remained forever beyond her reach...

She could still share this battlefield with him.

That much, she would take for herself.

So she raised her voice — now thunder, now prophecy.

"Spill their blood. Shatter their bones. Laugh as they scream."

"Burn their pride. Burn their bodies. Burn the world they thought was theirs."

Her hair whipped in the rising heat, black flame dancing through the strands.

Her voice rose again, erupting like a war cry from the depths of her soul:

"Kill. Kill. And kill more."

"Be they from the four major factions or not — KILL THEM ALL."

"Leave no one alive."

She thrust her hand toward the sky — a sun of flame blooming in her palm.

And then, with the full fury of her soul, she screamed:

"BURN!"

"BURN!"

"BURN!"

As her voice tore through the valley, her followers — the frenzied faithful of the Hallowed Sun — roared in answer, their chant rising like a wave of madness:

"The Sun’s Bride calls — and we set the world ABLAZE!"

"BURN! BURN! BURN!"

The thunderous cry of barely fifty people somehow drowned out the entire snowy valley.

Their zeal, their hunger for violence, their laughter as flames ignited — it made everyone pause.

Even the bravest among the onlookers hesitated, instinct screaming at them to turn and flee before facing lunatics that burned not just bodies... but reason itself.

But the Hallowed Sun moved faster.

With Serah’s command given, hesitation vanished.

Black flames erupted everywhere as her followers spread like wildfire — attacking anyone and everyone.

No alliances. No mercy.

Just as she ordered.

Serah turned her gaze back toward the heart of the battlefield.

Noel stood there, drenched in blood — his own and others’ — his aura still flaring, his movements wild and sharp.

Her eyes gleamed. Burning hotter.

She wanted to join him — to throw herself into the chaos and carve through the world beside him.

"You can’t," Elysia’s voice cut through her thoughts, firm and unwavering.

Serah just nodded. But then her voice, low and dangerous, rose again.

"Then you go."

"Forget the rest... Just kill those bitches — at least a few — then come back."

Elysia hesitated for a beat. But under Serah’s commanding gaze, she sighed... then vanished into the flames.

And so, Serah stood alone.

She listened to the screams — those begging, those dying, those laughing.

She watched as snow evaporated, revealing scorched black ground, soaked in blood and ash.

And through it all... her gaze stayed fixed in one direction.

Toward the center of the battlefield — a place no one dared to claim.

Where one boy fought alone...

She looked at his smile — that smile which never once faded since the battle began.

At his silhouette — bloodstained, standing tall, never retreating.

Not once did he try to run.

Even now, when he could.

He stood and fought. Still.

With the chaos raging, with everyone battling their own enemies, fewer and fewer were able to focus on him alone — but Serah could still see.

She could see how the number of those attacking him was decreasing...

But the quality of those remaining?

That only increased.

And so, that didn’t solve anything.

Even then, Noel — who seemed to grow stronger with every passing moment — continued fighting back.

But... there has to be a limit.

So until when?

Until when can he hold on?

Time passed.

And while she was still wondering that... Elysia finally returned.

Serah didn’t turn to look. She just asked, flatly, "How many?"

"Five," came the equally flat reply.

But then, after a beat, Elysia added, "I was stopped by their leader in the end. So, knowing I wouldn’t be able to kill any more, I came back."

Then, a pause.

"But... are you sure about this?"

"Our relationship with the Witches will only worsen after this battle."

At her words, Serah scoffed.

"So be it."

"Since when have we ever had an ’ample’ relationship with them in the first place?"

"So let them come." Her voice grew colder.

"As many as they come... as many as we will kill."

Elysia simply nodded in obedience, saying nothing more.

Then finally, she too turned her gaze toward the battlefield — to the center.

To the place Serah had never once stopped watching.

Where Noel was still fighting.

Only two opponents remained.

One controlled plants — sending vines to entangle, pierce, and disrupt him.

The other fought from a distance, moving swiftly, using high-speed footwork and long-range attacks to harass him.

The three of them were locked in a brutal stalemate.

"It may be his last battle," Elysia suddenly said, her voice quiet but firm, "but he’ll be remembered for ages to come."

And Serah, hearing that, wore a wasteful, crooked smile.

Her thoughts were many... too many.

But in the end, she agreed with Elysia — and so, she chose to burn this moment into her memory.

She kept watching.

And then...

Noel moved.

With sudden force, he shattered the balance — throwing one of his swords straight toward the plant-wielder, piercing clean through and injuring him severely.

The fight didn’t last much longer after that.

Soon, Noel stood alone.

His eyes bloodshot.

His breath ragged.

And yet... he laughed — wild, hoarse, unstoppable.

His gaze swept across the battlefield.

And though he said nothing... his eyes asked:

Who else wants to try?

No one moved.

The remaining stragglers turned away — suddenly fascinated by the wind, the sky, the snow.

The witches who’d harassed him were now too busy fighting the Hallowed Sun cult.

And just like that...

Noel walked away.

His steps were slow.

Unsteady — not just from exhaustion, but from something deeper.

By all rights, he should have collapsed. He should have died.

But he didn’t.

He walked.

And everyone stepped aside.

Every single one.

Blood trailed behind him — a vivid line across the scorched, ash-stained snow.

And then...

he passed by her.

Serah stood frozen.

To her, his presence stretched higher than the sky itself.

He walked away — with confidence. With arrogance. With pride.

Even more than when he first stepped out of the Trial Dimension.

She bit her lip — hard.

And as a single tear slipped from her cheek, one thought echoed in her mind:

’If you were mine... I wouldn’t have let you bleed alone.’