Chapter 19: ...The Calamitous Blare...

Back to a few minutes ago with Sei and Elaister, before the party members regrouped to have lunch. (3rd Person POV)

[Reconciliation]

It was one of the few spells regulated by the Church, most commonly used by priests during confession services. Under normal circumstances, the spell required the target's consent. That consent, given as an acknowledgment of guilt and remorse, allowed the caster to perceive the target's identity, the state of mind they held when committing the specific sin, and the emotional aftermath that followed.

Most importantly, the caster would also gain knowledge of the act itself, as though standing as a true witness to the sin. With that understanding, the Church could determine whether to grant absolution or administer the punishment the sinner sought.

For ordinary citizens, the service offered relief. Guilt had a way of festering in silence, especially when born from desperate or cowardly decisions made under pressure. Confession through [Reconciliation] allowed that weight to be seen, acknowledged, and judged within the Church's framework. It was a system that maintained both spiritual stability and social order.

There was another detail the public knew about the spell.

"If the target's guilt surpasses a certain threshold, the spell may activate without the target's consent."

This line was often repeated in sermons. It reinforced the idea that guilt should not be buried, that wrongdoing left unattended would eventually surface. It encouraged citizens to confess willingly before the Church forced the truth into the open.

In reality, both guilt and the threshold required for this spell were arbitrary.

One individual might condemn themselves so thoroughly for a single mistake that their guilt outweighed that of several lesser crimes combined. Another might slaughter dozens and remain untouched simply because they never once believed they had done wrong. The threshold itself was not a divine measurement etched into the fabric of the world. It existed entirely within the target.

Even then, the threshold required for forced activation was absurdly high. It was nearly impossible for the average citizen to reach. A long lived race such as elves, dwarves, or beastmen might theoretically be more likely to approach it due to the weight of time and memory, yet even among them it was rare.

In other words, the line often quoted by the Church was technically true but practically meaningless. It functioned far more effectively as propaganda than as a common reality.

That was why Sei could not help feeling amused.

When Elaister's mask had slipped, even for less than a minute, the emotion that spilled out had been overwhelming. It surged outward with such intensity that it triggered the spell's conditions. Without hesitation, Sei acted on that absurd technicality the Church preached endlessly but scarcely ever documented. She cast [Reconciliation], and the result had not been disappointing.

Normally, the spell revealed a single act, a contained memory witnessed clearly from beginning to end, framed by guilt. What Sei received instead was not a single scene but something closer to a book.

A scorched, torn apart, and incomplete journal.

It was not clear, yet it was abundant enough for Sei to piece together fragments of Elaister's existence. The sheer volume of it made her burst into laughter on the spot. The distraction caused her to lose track of herself and cook far more food than necessary.

But it also made her wonder about the messiness, the holes in the journal that were torn shut or burned away. Was Elaister truly such a genius that the incompleteness was deliberate, that she had foreseen the possibility of someone intruding upon her memory? Or was it done out of necessity, because she could not function if those memories remained intact?

That latter possibility was why she had poked at Elaister's ego so recklessly.

After being mocked for her devotion to Altair, Sei found it impossible not to return the favor. The existence standing before her, loud and theatrical, so eager to criticize and dissect others, felt fragile once viewed through that lens. Fickle was the word that came to mind.

And judging from the memory Sei had read, she's confident she could get away with it.

"Hea-AAAAAAGGGHHHH!"

The scream tore through the clearing. Blood splattered across the dirt, soaking into the soil beneath Sei's knees. The red staining the ground was hers. The voice cracking in agony was hers. Yet no matter how much she had screamed, no one would come.

One of Elaister's artifacts, a small purple pebble half buried near a tree root, pulsed faintly. Every sound within the clearing folded inward and vanished. Their voices, the impacts, even the ragged rhythm of breath were trapped inside an invisible barrier.

Sei's whole body were bound by a bladed whip that coiled around her like a cruel vine. Each time she moved, even slightly, the thin edges bit deeper into her skin. The metal sawed, grinding into flesh with every tremor.

Her vision swam in red. The world tilted and narrowed, ringing filling her ears like distant bells.

"GhahahahAhhaHhHHhHHAAAAhAa"

In front of her, Elaister laughed. Almost the theatrical laughter she used to fill rooms, but not it. This was uneven, splintered, rising and falling without rhythm. Pandora's silver surface flashed as it came down again and again against Sei's head.

"Stay still–no, no, don't stay still, that makes it boring–agh, you're bleeding again–o-oh wait, y-yeah-that's the point –"

The mechanical left arm struck her temple. Light burst behind Sei's eyes. Her skull rang.

Sei's lips moved continuously, mustering the incantation for that spell.

"[Heal]"

The spell flowed out of her in fragmented breaths. White light struggled to form around her, stuttering with each blow. Torn flesh knit together only to split again as the whip tightened with her convulsions.

Had she made a mistake?

No, Elaister would not commit. She had seen enough. She had glimpsed the foundation beneath the arrogance. Elaister would not kill her.

And yet. As Pandora crashed into her forehead once more, Sei felt the unmistakable terror of approaching death. Even if Elaister did not intend to kill her, the violence was real. The pain was real. The darkness creeping in at the edge of her vision was real.

Elaister suddenly staggered back two steps, then threw both arms wide, metallic left arm gleaming under the sun. She stood there as if demanding to be witnessed, chest lifted, body open, inviting judgment.

"Good, good, good– see? That one was cleaner!" she babbled, nodding rapidly to herself. "But you're still wasting mana stabilizing the outer tissue first. Why would you do that? Fix the brain first! Everything else is secondary! UNIMPORTANT! B-BRAIN IS-"

Her posture snapped inward just as quickly. She dropped into a crouch, curling in on herself, her body folding tight. Her masked face buried against her arm as though hiding from an unseen gaze.

"Forget it forget forget that me," she muttered into herself. "Ah–ah–p-please don't look at me."

Then she sprang up again without warning and drove Pandora forward.

Sei's head snapped back.

"[Heal]" Sei shakingly whispered again.

The spell barely formed before another strike disrupted her concentration. Blood streamed down her cheek. Her hands trembled violently, but she continued to cast, forcing mana through pathways that felt as though they were tearing apart.

"How interesting!" Elaister shrieked, circling her. "You can still cast [Heal] even though your head's compromised?! That's so interesting!"

She lunged again, the bladed whip tightening as Sei instinctively recoiled. The edges dug deeper, carving thin red lines along her arms and ribs.

"Just pass out already!" Elaister snapped, then immediately contradicted herself. "No, don't, don't pass out just yet, I'm not done!"

Pandora slammed into Sei's jaw, her teeth cracked together painfully.

"I'm hurting people again… ah… no–ugh…" Elaister's right hand flew to her mask, covering the mouthpiece as if she might throw up. Her shoulders shook. "It's because you're laughing at me, it's your fault!"

Sei was obviously hadn't laughed. She was evidently barely conscious.

"[Heal]"

The white glow this time was brighter, desperate. It sealed a fracture along her scalp, slowed the bleeding at her wrists, pushed back against the swelling in her skull.

"If you don't give up and pass out already, I don't care," she rambled quickly. "Y-You'll run out of mana eventually. Then I can make you forget. Then I can make you forget! F-Forget!"

Her body jerked forward, then backward. She extended both arms wide again, almost triumphantly, before abruptly collapsing inward, crouching low with her knees drawn close, making herself small.

"Don't look at me," she whispered.

Then, as if a switch had flipped, she surged forward with violent force.

'Altair... Save me...'

Crash

...

...

...

When Sei found her bearing again, it was the bright blue sky that greeted her. The sun was still hanging high, unchanged, as if nothing beneath it had happened. For a few seconds she simply stared upward, watching the faint sway of treetops at the edge of her vision, crows flew pass. Her body felt light.

She blinked once. Twice. There was no pain.

The bladed whip was gone. The cuts that had crisscrossed her arms and ribs had vanished without even a scar to mark their place. Her skull no longer throbbed. In fact, her mind felt clearer than it had before the beating, as though she had awoken from a long and restful sleep rather than collapsed from the assault trauma.

Before she could even push herself upright, a voice spoke.

"You're out for barely two minutes."

It was Elaister.

Sei slowly sat up. She did not need to look around to find her. Elaister was directly in front of her, seated on the ground with her back resting against the stump of a freshly severed tree. The cut was jagged and uneven, likely the work of that same bladed whip. Wood splinters still littered the dirt around it.

Elaister's head was tilted upward, exposing the pale line of her neck. Her mouthpiece was open, and between her lips was the curved stinger of a large scorpion. She was sucking on it as if it were some oversized, toxic cigar. Sei recognized the habit from the spell. The venom was not lethal to Elaister, the burn kept her grounded.

She no longer wearing her white scientist coat. It had been tossed over her face, draped carelessly so that it covered the mask's visor entirely. Beneath it, her black button up shirt clung loosely to her small frame. Without the coat and her exaggerated silhouette, she looked smaller. Almost defenseless, if one did not know better.

"Also," Elaister added flatly, giving Sei the finger without looking at her. "Fuck you."

Sei exhaled softly. "What a cruel woman you are, Elaister, after using me so sore like -"

She stopped mid sentence. She still remembered the whip, the blows, the rambling instructions, the contradictions, the fear, and the girl's ‘scorched autobiography.'

"You didn't erase my memory?" Sei asked lightly.

The coat shifted slightly as Elaister's shoulders moved beneath it. "If I were to use your own words – it is only fair. You must know that when I erase someone's memory, I have to meddle with their brain. Therefore, their memory. I too know your past to some extent."

Sei gave a small, airy laugh. "Hmm… so that's how it works."

"What?"

"I'm just a witness to your act and emotion. Those technical details are not really known to me."

"I see."

Sei folded her hands neatly in her lap, posture composed as always. "So how does reading my memory stop you from erasing it? Weren't you going to mess with my head? It never stopped you before."

A brief pause stretched between them.

"It'd be more effective like this," Elaister replied at last. "For me. For you. And for Altair."

Sei's eyes twitched faintly at the sound of his name. "Don't tell me you're starting to have feelings for my Altair after seeing him through my eyes. Well, I wouldn't blame you. He is wonderful. But I won't forgive you either. Altair is trul-"

"As if."

The coat slid down from Elaister's face. The visor beneath locked directly onto Sei. The scorpion stinger dropped from her mouth and landed in the dirt.

"You want to exhaust all your dirty and earthly desire for that boy before you fully awaken as a Saint," Elaister said, voice steady now, almost clinical. "You're afraid that once your title stabilizes, once the divine filter settles in properly, your obsession will be forced to refine into something palatable. You don't want that. So before that happens, you want to make memories. Indulge and stain yourself with him as much as possible. But you don't want to ruin him so you are half assing your act. How twisted."

Sei's smile did not falter. "And?"

Elaister rose to her feet. She brushed dirt from her shirt and stepped closer. For a brief moment, Sei's body remembered the earlier violence. A faint tremor passed through her spine.

But instead of raising her left arm, Elaister extended her right hand.

"Come on," she said. "Let's head back."

Sei looked at the offered hand, then at Elaister's visor. She accepted it. Elaister's grip was firm as she pulled her up.

"You said it would be more effective," Sei murmured once she was standing. "Leaving my memory intact."

"Yes."

"In what way?"

Elaister clicked her tongue. "I want a high quality donkey. And I'm going to put Altair through a miserable forge. He needs you to some extent while I'm at it. Your love needs to become more sincere instead of whatever abomination it is right now. Plus, I get to witness a better romcom if you're less twisted. It's a win-win-win-win."

Sei tilted her head slightly. "More sincere? Right back at you, Elaister. You could just say you care."

"I'm not doing this because I care. It's efficient."

"How kind."

A visible shiver ran through Elaister's body. For a fraction of a second, it looked as though she might strike Sei again, as though the word itself had been an insult.

"Keep that opinion to yourself," Elaister said tightly. "Never call me that again. I'm not joking."

Sei only smiled.

Elaister turned away first. She retrieved her coat, wore it back on, and adjusted it with habitual precision. The familiar silhouette returned, restoring the exaggerated presence she preferred.

They began walking toward camp. Elaister took the lead, steps confident, posture theatrical, as if reasserting control through simple positioning. Behind her, Sei walked calmly.

To Sei, someone whose guilt could reach such magnitude that it triggered [Reconciliation] without consent could not be entirely hollow. Guilt required awareness. Awareness required empathy. No matter how Elaister dressed it up with arrogance and madness, there had to be something humane remain.

"Hey, hey, Elaister," Sei called lightly. "I have a plan for Altair's lunch."

A groan came from ahead. "Altair again, huh?"

"It's called Al-kun's-non-rations-lunch-plan."

"I hate you."

"Don't worry," Sei replied sweetly. "The hate is mutual. Also, in the chaos, you can go somewhere you want to be."

"I really hate you."

"I hate you too. Telling me how I should do things. What are you, my mother?"

Elaister did not slow her pace. "Sure. I could be your mother. Ain't your momma dead?"

Sei's smile sharpened slightly. "I despise you."

"Damn," Elaister muttered, pulling out another stinger from pandora. "Same."

Present time. (3rd Person POV)

"Lut, huh? It should be a she, right?" Hiroto said lightly, as though he were commenting on the weather rather than the broken body lying at his feet.

The calm detachment in his voice did not match the blood soaking steadily into the earth beneath Kestrel. Even knowing she was in Sei's hands, even knowing she would most likely survive, it was that absence of urgency that caused something to rise slowly in Altair's chest.

Altair stepped out from behind the bushes.

"Oh, welcome back, Altair. I thought you got trapped somewhere and we would have to bail you out," Hiroto said immediately without even glancing at him. Then his eyes shifted and landed on the sword at Altair's hip.

His brows lifted slightly in amusement. "Wow. That genius really did give you an artifact before me, the party leader? Oh, that girl really does whatever she wants." He chuckled softly, as if entertained rather than offended.

Altair's fingers curled into his palm. Hiroto noticed the tightening fist. His eyes gleamed faintly with interest, like someone who had just spotted an ungrateful subordinate ready to be disciplined.

Before either of them could utter another word, Serah stepped forward and positioned herself in front of Hiroto. A slap went across his face. He did not flinch. Her palm stopped dead in its track as if it had struck a wall. Serah slowly lowered her hand but maintained her glare, a clear and worried fury burning in her eyes.

"Kestrel is critical. Whatever did that is still out there in the forest. That elf is missing. And you are worried about whether Lut is a girl or not? The mule getting a weapon is more important to you? What are you talking about? Can you take this more seriously?"

Hiroto blinked once, and then his smile sharpened almost imperceptibly.

"I am taking it seriously," he replied, reaching out and placing a finger beneath her jaw, gently tilting her face toward him.

"What are you-"

"Maybe I edited you a bit too cranky. Let me fix that."

He leaned in with practiced ease.

Serah's rigid posture softened almost instantly. The tension in her shoulders loosened, her breath catching for a moment before she leaned against him.

Altair instinctively turned his head away. It was safer not to look. Elira and Anna watched with poorly concealed jealousy, their gazes flickering between irritation and longing. Sei discreetly rolled her eyes before returning her full attention to the body she was healing.

"So?" Hiroto asked Serah softly.

"Y-You cannot just do that out of nowhere. This does not make things better at all."

"Once Kestrel wakes up, she will explain what happened," he said smoothly.

As if summoned by his words, Kestrel coughed. Blood bubbled at the corner of her lips before Sei carefully wiped it away.

"Take it easy, Kestrel-san," Sei said gently, pushing the assassin's shoulders down as she attempted to stubbornly stand. The unnatural angles of Kestrel's limbs had mostly corrected themselves into place just before she regained consciousness.

Kestrel tried to rise anyway. Her breathing was uneven, her gaze frantic as it searched the treeline as though expecting something to leap out at any second.

"She…" she rasped. "Crow mask… eclipse crest… stampede…"

"Elira-san," Sei called calmly without looking away from her patient.

"I know." Elira placed two fingers lightly against Kestrel's temple and began stabilizing the turbulence in her mana while Sei maintained the healing of her body. "Slowly. What happened?"

"Right." Kestrel closed her eyes for a moment before speaking up. "At this very moment, there is thousands of demonized goblins marching together."

A ripple of tension moved through the group like a shockwave.

"A stampede?" Anna whispered, her hands trembling where she clutched the reins of the horses. The animals snorted and stomped, sensing the unrest long before any human words confirmed it.

"They're mobilizing in three directions. Thidono, this dungeon, and the nearest northern border."

Serah's eyes widened. "A stampede of that scale on the surface? Moreover it's organized, is that mean there's already a demon general inside the human border?!"

"It's likely, or at the very least someone that able to replicate demon general's ability." Kestrel continued. "I met her. She wore a black robe with an eclipse crest on her chest. A crow mask hid her face. My senses were unable to detect her. She moved without sound. If she had not revealed her own position, I might never have found her. She blocked my blade. When I tried to flee, she was faster than my [Acceleration]. She forced me to listen to her introduction, calling herself Blacksuns One, Lut. She controlled the stampede and made me survive waves of demonized goblins. When I tried to escape, she caught me instantly and forced me back into the horde. Then, as if bored, she suddenly crushed me."

The forest seemed quieter after those words, as though even the wind was listening.

"Blacksuns… that is the cult recently uncovered, right?" Elira asked, her tone thin.

"The kingdom learned their name around the time our party was formed," Serah replied. "But it is suspected they have been operating for much longer. For them to possess a demon general in their ranks…" She frowned deeply. "The fact that Kestrel survived, and that Lut threw her precisely to our location… it is as if she wanted us involved. We need a plan."

"Kestrel, do you know the stampede's allocation?" Hiroto asked, his tone still measured, as though he were discussing troop movements on a board rather than lives about to be lost.

"Most of them moved toward the border," Kestrel said faintly. "The rest split for the town and here."

Hiroto nodded slowly, processing the information with unsettling composure. "They will attempt to cripple the military response at the border while the others overrun the dungeon and town. If the border falls, reinforcements will be delayed. If the dungeon breaks, monsters will pour out. If the town is destroyed, panic will spread."

"Number?" Serah asked.

"At the very least, more than 5 thousands," Kestrel answered.

"That many? How did no one pick up on this?" Elira muttered. "Is the kingdom's attention really spread this thin? No… even then, it should have been impossible to hide that many forces for this long."

Without warning, the distant purple pillar flickered. The seal of the Ulla Dungeon wavered violently before collapsing upward in a blinding flash. The low hum that had long permeated the forest cut off abruptly, replaced by a pressure that felt raw and unfiltered.

Mana surged outward in a visible wave, bending grass flat against the earth and rattling branches violently. The horses reared and shrieked, eyes rolling white.

"What in the world?!" Elira exclaimed, raising a quick barrier to prevent debris from striking the group.

"C-Calm down," Anna urged, struggling to steady the horses as panic threatened to send them bolting into the trees.

"OF COURSE," Serah snarled, her hand tightening around the hilt of her sword. "HOW COULD I FOGET ABOUT THAT ELF?!"

As if in response to the seal's collapse, another pressure bloomed from deeper within the forest. It was not the warped but undeniably natural mana of the dungeon. This one was streaked with malice. It spread like ink through water, staining the air with suffocating intent. Trees in the distance bent and cracked as if bowing before an unseen sovereign. Birds burst from the canopy in frantic flocks, their cries sharp and discordant as shadows fell across the forest.

There was no mistaking it, this was not a mere cult replicating demon general's presence, it's the real deal.

Altair felt it press against his skin, slide along his spine, and settle into his bones. His breath grew shallow. The sword at his hip felt heavier. He held onto the rectangular artifact in his pocket like a lifeline. The glass tube pressed against his side suddenly seemed unbearably fragile as the parasite inside twitched and slammed itself against the glass in what felt disturbingly like joy.

Hiroto's expression did not change. He continued smiling, green eyes reflecting the darkened forest as though admiring a sunset.

"Well," he said lightly, "I have something in mind."

Everyone turned toward him instinctively. Even Serah, still bristling with anger, waited for his command.

His gaze shifted briefly to Altair. 'Is this not the perfect opportunity to dispose of him? And perhaps finally break my dear Saint.' Hiroto thought.

Sei's eyes narrowed at Hiroto. ‘He is thinking of getting rid of him. My dear Altair.'

Altair's hand tightened around the hilt at his side. The unfamiliar heat in his chest did not fade this time. The sky that had been a clear noon blue moments ago was now darkened by flocks of birds still fleeing in waves. Some fled in blind panic toward distant horizons. Others circled high above, drawn by the promise of death.

Deep within the forest, above the stampede of demonized goblins, a girl wearing a crow mask hung upside down from a thick branch, suspended effortlessly by her feet as though gravity held no authority over her. Her black robes swayed gently in the rising heat and violent currents of mana that rolled beneath her. Below, the horde surged forward like a living river of teeth and claws, thousands of warped bodies marching in dreadful unison.

She clapped her hands in applause, the sound crisp and delighted despite the carnage unfolding beneath her. "Very good performance, birdies. Very dramatic and impeccable timing." Her voice remained even, but her cadence carried a deliberate theatrical flair, as if she were imitating someone she admired.

In the next instant, she vanished. One moment she hung upside down, the next she sat casually on another branch several trees away, legs crossed, chin resting against her palm.

"I wonder how Nee-sama will react to my welcome party," Lut mused to no one in particular, tilting her masked face toward the distant pulse of unstable mana. "Though I do need her to open my present first."

High above the Ulla Dungeon, a crow circled. Through its eyes, Lut observed the fading remnants of purple light where Elaister had entered. The seal had collapsed exactly as intended.

Satisfied, Lut stood from the branch. She took a single step forward into empty air, and the world adjusted itself to her decision. Her foot landed lightly upon the shoulder of a marching demonized goblin without breaking its stride. The creature did not even acknowledge her presence. She balanced effortlessly atop the moving horde, carried forward as if riding a current.

"Let's see…" she murmured.

Another crow circled above the clearing where the hero's party had gathered. Its black eyes reflected the scattered tension below. Her gaze lingered not on the Hero, nor on the Saint, but It lingered on the boy standing slightly apart from them all.

"Is that boy my new younger brother?" she wondered aloud, voice faintly amused. "Isn't he a bit too unremarkable…"

From above, she watched them begin to move. The mage, the saint, and the boy retreated toward the carriage. The assassin rushed toward the dungeon. The knight remained behind, sword drawn. The Hero tilted his head slightly.

His green eyes locked onto the circling crow.

He smiled, completely at odds with the tension saturating the air. He flicked his gaze once, as though acknowledging an invitation, and then he bent his knees.

The ground beneath him shattered as he launched himself into the forest.

BOOOOOOM.

The explosion of impact tore through the canopy. Trees splintered and toppled as a crater formed in the earth, soil and shattered roots erupting outward in a violent ring. The river of demonized goblins broke around the impact point, their formation splashed like water disturbed by a stone thrown into its surface.

Hiroto stood at the center of the crater he had created, directly in front of Lut. She remained balanced upon a goblin's shoulder, unflinching, her crow mask tilted slightly downward to regard him.

"Hey there. That's a unique mask you've got," Hiroto said, brushing dust from his shoulder as if they had met at a banquet rather than in the middle of an advancing army. "Want to join my party, demon general?" He extended his hand toward her with easy confidence.

Around them, the goblins snarled and surged, but none dared strike between the two.

Lut chuckled in a flat, monotone rhythm. "Sorry. I'm taken."

In the blink of an eye, she disappeared. Only a faint mist of red lingered where she had stood, dissolving into the air like evaporating blood. The demonized goblins immediately rushed forward to fill the gap she left behind, claws and teeth snapping toward the Hero.

"I'm sorry to inconvenience you, little lady," Hiroto said casually as he stepped out of the crater.

A goblin lunged at him. With a simple knock of his knuckles against its skull, the creature exploded like a red water balloon, fragments scattering across the forest floor. Another leapt from behind, he flicked it with two fingers, and it burst midair, raining gore.

"This hero is quite persistent."

More goblins swarmed him from every direction, a tidal wave of twisted bodies driven by frenzy. Hiroto straightened and rotated his shoulder once, as if warming up before exercise. When he stepped fully out of the crater and onto level ground, he swept his backhand across the clearing with slightly more intent.

The motion generated a violent wind current that tore through the horde. Goblins that were not firmly anchored were lifted from their feet and hurled backward, bodies tumbling and colliding midair. Trees bent violently under the pressure, leaves ripped free in a spiraling storm. The ground was carved into lines where claws desperately tried to cling before being swept away.

Within seconds, an empty circle formed around him. Hiroto stood at its center, untouched, smiling faintly as the nonstop flow of goblins regrouped at the perimeter like wary beasts.

"On another note, I have a slightly different proposal, Blacksuns One, Lut, do you want to hear me?" Hiroto rest his finger on his chin, and smiled confidently, knowing Lut was watching him

Farther back in the forest, perched unseen upon a higher branch, Lut watched through a different pair of crow's eyes.

"How charmingly disgusting."

つづく

=Next time: The 20th, ...Of the Third Trumpet.=

Nothing has value. Everything is useful.