Berserk Volume 22: A Mind-Blowing Introduction

Say hello to Millennium Falcon! One of my favorite arcs of Berserk and one I can’t wait to discuss!

Starting with volume 22, it kicks off with a warning that Zodd is looming at large and Guts and Casca are back at where they started, Rickerts place. But something is odd, Rickert is talking to someone, someone he knew from long ago. Griffith!

He feels absolutely no regret nor pity for what transpired, but is curious to speak to Guts. And before Guts can loose it, Rickert, who is not in the know, tragically defends him, unknowingly of the Griffith he is defending. When Griffith further elaborates his intention, Guts is reminded it’s purely selfish. He only arrived to see if he felt an ounce of regret or indecision but he does not. His dream stands firm, to Guts fury. But before he can direct his sword in the right direction, he is stopped by Zodd. It’s hard not to clap out loud for the way Miura makes a show stopping introduction for such a lengthy arc. One thing he makes clear is that even if this arc is long, that doesn’t mean there’s time to spare.

Guts and Zodd are left at a draw, both too equal of opponents. All it continues to show is Guts race to escape death, he’s not called a struggler for nothing. Casca soon gets the attention of Griffith who treats her like a vessel in his behavior: examining her, saving her, and walking away with no motivation. The Band of the Hawk has become, for Griffith, somebody he used to know, nothing more, nothing less. When Casca tries to touch Griffith her brand bleeds, causing her to collapse on the ground. Griffith closes these indulgences with a firm hand, saying bluntly it’s the same as it has always been. He is not phased by a conscious, to him, he is his only equal and does not care for revisiting what made him. Those remembrances are lost at the back of his soul. Like Casca, he is attached to a different soul. In his case: opportunity and the initiative he took. To him, it’s like going to a funeral where the dead has been buried alive, clawing at the casket, long buried. It’s all to no avail, they never really had a chance.

When Griffith goes to achieving his destiny, he tells Guts he had to know this would happen. He has always been Griffith. But this is quite inaccurate. Rather, this is the man Griffith has become, not always been. He has always wanted others to believe he was always this determined, but if he was, never would he have been phased and destroyed so hard by Guts. He has always been a shell of what he is now. But now, he has reincarnated, and refurbished his life. This is how he would’ve ended things before the Eclipse, by causing the Eclipse and now telling Rickert, if he knows the truth, he will have a chance to join the dream team.

Guts gets right to telling Rickert the truth, the Eclipse, and it logically breaks him to his very soul. But as Guts knows, he can’t chase Griffith down, even knowing who Griffith is, he will never hate him, he will always remember those lost times. And before Rickert can reason further illogical denial he realizes he has his own Casca to protect, Erica, and she desperately needs him. Meanwhile, Puck hits Guts with the reveal of shelter: Puck’s home.

This was the first chapters of volume twenty-two, and Berserk‘s still surpassing itself, and it was already so stupendous. Later, we see Guts, prepared, take Casca, and off they head to the great  unknown. Yet Guts is still reminded of Griffith’s gentle mannerisms to Casca and his saying. Immediately, we cut to war occurring and Griffith turns up, to Silat’s surprise, and it illustrates his new rise to power, but he won’t mess up this time. As he made sure a chapter ago. Zodd even appears as his right-hand man. And he succeeds. Griffith has made history. Meaning he has painted it, right up to putting his signature. It’s manufactured, but the best stories are. In Golden Age, Griffith fought traditionally hard battles fair and square. Now, he doesn’t have to, he just needs to prop up who he wants to see it. If you can recall playing a game you already played, you are recalling Griffith.

Next, we go to Farnese and Serpico, aimlessly searching for Guts. Miura devotes this time to revealing the refreshing and horrific backstory of Serpico, who lives with a hopeless mother, but his world goes upside down when he meets the Richess Farnese, a stuck up child he can tolerate.

And one with as many troubles as him, and someone who is haunted by a lack of command and control. Her hopes arrive when her father has control. When he tells her to rid an object, she burns it to her delight. She uses being protected and ordered as a way of pleasure, as a way of controlling her world, which to her is the world. And if it is not, she must have someone like Serpico to morph it or she can not live, so he does not want her to live, so it is not her lack of control, it is his which makes him replaceable if he wasn’t so reliable. She lives in such absolutes and by so many hypocrisies, she is a self-made Estella from Great Expectations. A doll of a human, and one that is more than self-aware, but one that has no preference to change when asked or demanded. It is when she is met at a breaking part, which can be as blunt as Guts or as subtle as the weather that she falls apart.

We additionally learn Serpico is Farnese’s half brother. This only seems to genuinely affect his behavior as to make him overly protective of her, which provides reason as to why he fought so hard against Guts. As they grow you can see how this tampered their lives. Farnese is forever tied to Serpico, and if someone questions her on anything she lectures them but brings their consequences for Serpico to handle. He is puppet for her she is not fully self-aware of, and partially a toy to ramble her troubles onto him. If she is un-impressed with him, she beats him. But the way she choses her problems with him are all too in-substantial, she is wanting to hurt him, so she can control, so she can love him. He is like that doll she burned long ago, but one she can never throw away. He is too much of her, and her too much of him.

They are too tied, without her knowing why. When she satisfies herself with his blood, it could be seen as her form of self-harm, without acknowledging she is trying to hurt herself by finding the closing thing to herself, him. It could also be her way to prevent burnings. There, she can feel possible grief at her morality. With the mutilation but not sadistic torture of an improper individual, she is doing lawful duty. A religious act. Or she is attempting to transform herself into him, taking his flaws into herself, like God. Farnese is naive and entitled enough for that comparison to not be out of the question. When taking that into account, it makes more sense as to why she follows Father Mozgus teachings. She is the perfect follower, since she is the perfect clone of him. Someone who uses religion as a way to continue her sadism. But she is young enough to realize and seek growth.

Every time her father commands more of her, he takes more of her. In doing so, she breaks, piece by piece. When marriage is decided for young Farnese, this takes an eventual turn were she loses the clothes and runs to Serpico, pleading with zestful flirtations, to which Serpico neither gratifies nor recedes, leaving Farnese unclothed and a pariah to Farnese, causing her to run from the flames, from Serpico. So she restarts the fire, at her own house, against her father’s wishes on her father’s land. In doing so, she has voluntarily become the doll: forgettable, wasted space that is only freed from the flames once Serpico jumps in. Now, to her, she is left what Serpico made of her. Subdued and a captive. She was free before, sadistic in her freedom yet free nonetheless. Now, she is on a mission and he is meant to be her Iroh: helpful but only resourceful. And within that time, she built her way up, piece by piece, with her heritage serving few to little favors.

Now, Serpico is left unclothed to Farnese: his mother is a heretic. Being so shocked and open with the news causes Farnese to cover for him, something she would seemingly never do for anyone. But it must go one way. He has to throw the torch. If he does not, they will not just be outcasted and forced to the will of this God Hand infested world, but he will loose Farnese. She needs to sleep softly, with no thunder. And he finally can put out the storm. So killing his mom solves two problems with one throw. Additionally, it’s Farnese’s revenge. For exposing herself to no applause. She was left defenseless, so now Serpico is, and he must grow from it, like she did. With this decision, it’s his choice to make Farnese apart of him, like he is to her. They are one in the same, and the flames confide their inner spirit, which they can only know. This explains why Guts is so vital to Farnese. He is the flames she tried to bury long ago and they’re still standing. Farnese’s true self she tries to hide behind so many masks can only be found with him, and so she must rely on him. That’s what makes her so connected, later, to Casca. They’re two people lost in mask’s.