Chapter 71
Chapter 71
Episode 71
A massive wolf raced across the empire like a mad beast.
It crossed mountains, forded rivers, and sprinted across plains.
The few villagers who glimpsed the black figure dismissed it as a trick of the eyes—a fleeting illusion that vanished in the blink of an eye.
Aiden gripped the wolf's dark fur tightly.
Saya's parting words to Fenrir echoed relentlessly in his mind:
"I cannot atone for my sins, but I can wash away my lover's pain."
In short, her crimes would remain, but the guilt they had inflicted upon Aiden would be erased.
The moment Aiden heard Saya was heading west, he understood her intent.
Given the circumstances, she was likely bound for the Kingdom of Diergan.
That nation's Death Saint possessed the exact power needed to fulfill her words.
The high priest of Levana Grand Temple—Karyemen.
He was a Death Saint with the authority to erase not just lives, but the very memory of their existence.
If Saya died by his hand, every trace of her would vanish from Aiden's mind.
The massacre she committed two years ago—he would never recall it again. That was why she claimed she could cleanse his pain.
Of course, the dead would not return. That was why she had declared atonement impossible.
Aiden gritted his teeth.
Why go this far? He couldn't comprehend it.
He had always believed he understood Saya better than anyone.
She was a woman who prioritized her emotions above all else—someone who could justify anything under the guise of love and suffocate those around her.
Aiden, too, had committed inhuman acts in the name of narrative necessity. In a way, they were alike.
Saya acted for love. Aiden acted for the ending.
That was why he despised her yet understood her better than anyone.
But now, her actions defied everything he thought he knew about her.
A selfish woman who mistook her twisted emotions for love—that was the Saya he knew.
Yet here she was, ready to die for the pettiest of reasons: to absolve his guilt.
If someone told Aiden to kill himself to bring about a happy ending for this world, would he do it?
No.
Which meant he and Saya were no longer the same.
More than that, he could no longer call her a selfish beast.
Her love was selfless—closer to devotion than obsession.
Or perhaps her selfishness had grown so extreme that it inverted itself.
Aiden clutched his head, assaulted by a splitting headache.
Regardless of her motives, he had never been loved so extravagantly in his life.
Nor did he deserve it.
What if her existence was wiped from his life? Would he stop feeling this way?
Right now, at least, he didn't want that.
Forget whether he needed her later—he didn't want her to disappear forever.
For now, he was simply relieved she still existed in his memories.
A mist-shrouded mountainside.
The rugged terrain of the Tolkin Mountain Range in the Kingdom of Diergan looked like a place where immortals might sit upon towering cliffs without seeming out of place.
No one ventured into Tolkin.
The landscape was treacherous, and the creatures that dwelled there were far too dangerous.
Though rich in natural resources, even seasoned herb gatherers avoided it.
At the foot of the range, Fenrir sniffed the air, his muzzle wrinkling.
"Are you sure this is the place?"
"The mountain itself masks intruders' scents. Stop wasting time and keep moving."
There was no trace of Saya. Worse, without prior knowledge, locating Levana Grand Temple would be impossible.
Levana was a moving monastery.
The temple shifted among hundreds of peaks according to the moon's phases—and Aiden knew the pattern.
Tonight was a full moon. The temple would be atop the highest peak, 5,000 meters above sea level.
"Let's go."
Fenrir bristled at Aiden's commanding tone, but now wasn't the time to assert dominance.
Aiden had claimed Saya was in danger—and the wolf believed him.
Aiden looked genuinely frantic. If this was an act, Fenrir would tear him apart.
As the wolf raced up the slope, Aiden lost himself in thought.
His plans after the northern campaign had always included visiting this temple.
Here, he would obtain the leash to collar the First Princess—the future empress.
He knew her darkest secret.
A kinslayer who had erased her own brother's existence to claim the throne.
Of course, she hadn't done it herself.
Karyemen, the high priest of Levana Grand Temple, had acted on her behalf.
A Death Saint of the kingdom assassinating imperial royalty?
Absurd as it sounded, the tangled web of politics made such sacrilege possible.
The relationship between kingdom and empire, their worship of moon and sun, the imperial family's history of betrayal, the kingdom's assassins staining their hands so nobles wouldn't have to—and the monotheistic empire's tolerance of a pagan neighbor.
Aiden intended to gather every shred of evidence and use it to strangle the royals.
He had no choice. Even as a hero, he was far beneath those of divine blood.
If he clashed with the future empress, he'd need leverage.
And now, he had another problem.
The fox. His memories of Saya remained intact.
Meaning she hadn't reached the temple yet.
Or perhaps his theory about her suicide was wrong.
Aiden hoped for the latter.
He glanced down at the arm hanging like a necklace around his neck and reread the dense script carved into it.
A message to his future, amnesiac self. Even if Saya vanished, this record would remain—allowing him to resurrect her.
...In theory.
He couldn't be certain.
Would a version of himself who'd forgotten Saya still choose to revive her over wielding resurrection's power for other ends?
Aiden bit his lip.
Fenrir's voice cut through his thoughts.
"They're good at hiding."
A gap in the massive cliff face, just wide enough for a person, lay hidden within the dense forest.
Fenrir, too large to pass, prepared to leap—when a blue streak shot across the night sky.
In the past, Aiden's reflexes wouldn't have caught it. Now, he recognized it instantly.
The fox.
"Saya!"
Hearing his voice, she veered midair and landed on Fenrir's back, seating herself before Aiden in an instant.
Her blue eyes, shimmering with moonlight, trembled. Her pale skin had grown ghostly white, as if she'd seen a specter.
"Wh-why are you—"
Aiden tore open her robe at the shoulder.
Her collarbone and smooth skin lay exposed—along with the black curse creeping across it.
A flustered Saya froze as Aiden stared at her in despair.
"S-Saya, you're already—"
The Death Saint's power had already taken root. There was no undoing it. Aiden felt like he'd been shoved off a cliff.
Saya was quick to understand.
She lowered her gaze with a bitter smile.
"You already know, Aiden."
To her, his presence felt like a dream.
She had fled the temple, choosing to die in nature's embrace—only to stumble upon this miracle.
She looked up at Aiden, his face stiff with shock.
"...I love you. And I'm sorry."
Her apology was still for him alone. The victims of her massacre remained absent from her thoughts.
Aiden knew this—but he couldn't bring himself to care.
Right now, his heart held room for only one person.
This was their final moment. Even if he revived her, these feelings might never return.
So he let go of everything.
With his one arm, he pulled her into a crushing embrace.
He buried his face in her silver hair, breathing in her scent.
That nostalgic, sweet fragrance.
Her breath and heartbeat filled his heightened senses.
Saya stiffened, stunned by his reaction.
Fenrir deposited them on a branch and retreated far enough to give them privacy—likely assuming they'd mate.
Aiden held her silently, unsure what to say.
But buried memories surged forth.
His weakest days after arriving in this world—back when he was Yu Ji-tae, trembling at the sight of blood.
On nights after taking a life, he'd been unable to sleep without Saya's touch.
The little fox had been his pillar. She rationalized his actions, comforted him, held him together.
A pathetic worm—he hated that version of himself.
Perhaps part of why he'd pushed her away was to escape those memories.
Now, he wasn't sure who the selfish one was.
His eyes burned, just like back then. Saya's fingers threaded through his hair—still comforting him, even now.
"You can cry in front of me. They say emotions turn to poison if you bottle them up. Humans taught me that."
Aiden didn't want to. Not now. He wanted to be strong for her.
Slowly, he lifted his face.
He met her eyes—blue pools glistening with unshed tears.
Instinct told him what to say. An apology wouldn't suffice.
He spoke.
"I love you. And thank you."
Saya froze.
A tear fell. Even repaid with death, those words were more precious than anything.
Then she began to sob. Glittering tears streaked her flushed cheeks before she broke into loud, childlike wails.
Aiden pulled her against his broad chest.
He stroked her small head and drooping ears, comforting her as she wept.
Tears welled in his own eyes. Soon, he wouldn't even remember this feeling—but for now, he let them fall.
In the mountains' embrace, their cries echoed into the night.
Then, at last, Aiden felt Saya go limp in his arms.
Her time was up.
He closed his eyes. Before his memories faded, he engraved her into his mind one last time.
Time passed—yet Saya remained in his thoughts.
He looked down at her.
Lifeless. No pulse.
So why did he still remember her?
Absently, he gazed up at the night sky.
The full moon smiled down at them, curved like a crescent.
Atraksha...
Goddess of love, patron of the Vacheksar women.
Now that he thought about it—how had Saya known of Karyemen's power?
And why did the timing of the northern war's conclusion align so perfectly?
Aiden chuckled.
No one hated the moon's mischief.
She was, after all, the goddess of love.
The full moon curved into a grin.