Chapter 371: Nest (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 371: Nest (5)
I remember the snow-white blossoms.
Just as I remember the long names on the cats’ collars, I remember the blossoms embroidered on the warm, white robe.
—La-ri-ci-um.
A scentless flower.
I remember the letters embroidered beside them, treated with the same reverence as the blossoms themselves—blossoms said to have been stitched there because they resembled her, the one who could not speak.
‘Bern.’
The surname of Hina and Kyrie, which I had only just learned. Since I hadn’t even known they were siblings, I naturally hadn’t known their surname either. I still remember the strange, unfamiliar feeling I had when I first saw it.
If it were my first time seeing it, it shouldn’t have felt familiar. If I had seen it before, I shouldn’t have forgotten it. Yet, despite its familiarity, I couldn’t place it. This wasn’t a deliberate blind spot, not some memory I had actively buried to avoid looking at it. I truly, genuinely could not remember.
That was why it felt so strange.
I had never experienced something that felt so familiar yet remained completely unremembered. Never.
—Because when I wondered why I wasn't curious, the answer came to me.
I remember the events of that day.
I realized that the name of the royal brother Chase had told me had been erased from my mind. I knew that Serenti's 'arrangement' had made it so. I remember that fact, and I have never forgotten it.
He understood what could bind the man standing before him, and why he wouldn't answer when called.
—Do not come. You cannot endure this.
He understood that the man standing before him was not Calian.
Having found the key to the puzzle, Franz began a new line of reasoning to uncover the full answer.
The unfamiliar, the newly learned, the already known, the memories of the past—his brilliant mind filtered through it all, recalling every detail at once. He organized the facts. And then, he knew.
He knew why a brother and sister, who’d lost their parents so early they didn’t even know their own names, were recorded as originating from his little brother's territory. He knew what surname Calian—who had undoubtedly interfered—would bestow upon the siblings he cherished so deeply. He knew why Hina’s surname had felt familiar yet unremembered, and why he hadn’t questioned that strange feeling more deeply. He knew what kind of trick Serenti had played inside his head.
And he knew why she had played such a trick—what she had been trying to hide.
He realized it.
Though he could neither recall what he had heard nor remember the events of the ‘past,’ he understood.
“...Bern.”
Franz spoke the name he had uncovered.
Beneath his fingertips, he felt Calian’s shoulder turn to ice. Even through the thick clothing, he could feel his brother’s body chilling rapidly. It was an absolute certainty.
Calian turned his head.
“That is…”
He looked at Franz, a painful smile hanging on his cold face.
He smiled at the older brother who had bound him by calling out to Bern.
He laughed silently, a soundless scream born from the agony of being held in place.
This was Bern, who had resolved to accept everything. Bern, who had chosen to resent not the man who made his name disappear, but only the god who had stood by and watched it happen. Bern, who, in that very moment, was worrying that the brother he had barely managed to save might be left behind to live forever alone. At that moment, of all times, it was the one name that should never have been spoken.
“...You shouldn’t have found out.”
Even if he had turned back time a hundred, a thousand times, to return to being Bern—a self so far gone there was no choice but to let go—that name alone should have been left untouched. It should never have been spoken just to make him stop.
Franz did not know this.
But Bern knew why Franz had called him. He knew that Franz, in his desperation to stop him, had failed to consider how Bern would receive it.
So Calian chose not to reproach his brother. He withdrew his killing intent, retracted his Pier, and looked at Franz, becoming the Calian of any ordinary day once more. He did it for him.
“You shouldn’t have found out… what could happen to you if things go wrong, brother.”
And he added this.
Because he knew why Franz had stopped him from asking. Because he realized that Franz had already guessed what he intended to ask Serenti.
His desire for Franz not to know what could happen if time wound back was genuine, and it was also true that his heart had gone cold upon realizing Franz had already deduced his hypothesis.
“...You should have just lived in ignorance, brother.”
With that, he masked the words he had blurted out at the name ‘Bern’ with another, entirely sincere reproach. He added a layer to his words, making it seem as though his reaction was due to Franz figuring out the worst-case scenario—something he didn’t need to know—rather than the name itself.
Thanks to that, Franz understood why Calian had smiled.
He realized that his conclusion had been completely wrong.
Because Calian was mature, and Franz was quick-witted.
“I…”
Therefore, Franz opened his mouth.
To apologize for what he had uncovered. To apologize for a hasty mistake that could not be undone.
—Fwoosh!
But he could not continue.
Fire erupted. From deep within Sispanian’s massive wings, flames burst forth, threatening to consume everything in the cavern as an offering. The fire wasn’t hot, yet it felt as if it would incinerate his very being, forcing his eyes shut and stealing the apology from his lips.
Time passed, an instant and an eternity all at once. He saw nothing, said nothing.
“Do not worry.”
The words reached him before he could even open his eyes, sensing the flames had subsided. It was a voice that seemed to know exactly what he would be thinking. Only then did Franz open his eyes.
They were gone.
The flames, the transparent egg that had birthed them, the red bird within, the black dragon so vast it made the cavern feel cramped, and his little brother, who had smiled with a face whose pain no words could ever describe.
“Serenti cannot destroy anything. Your brother will return soon.”
Before him stood a figure identical to the queen in the portrait, speaking in a voice like a butterfly endlessly waiting for spring.
Franz, who had been standing still, watching Sispanian, spoke.
“Back then, what did you…”
Sispanian’s words had eased his anxiety over Calian’s disappearance, so he asked the very question Calian was likely asking at this same moment.
“What did you do on that day in the ‘past’?”
He asked what she had done on the day things that never should have happened took place. He asked why she had simply stood by while her descendant committed an act that never should have happened. He asked why a being so thoughtful she rationed her blessings—fearing her descendants’ uniqueness might curdle into arrogance—had done absolutely nothing.
“I was not there,” Sispanian answered.
Franz did not hear her reply.
*
Speculation.
Uncertainty. Things that could not be confirmed.
It was all speculation.
That the Axis of Time Bern guarded had become necessary. That Franz was the one who obtained it, with Alan and Suleiman’s aid. That Franz had activated the Axis, winding back time. That if time were to move again, Franz would be left utterly alone. That, whether he knew this or not, some incident had been significant enough to force his hand—an incident that must have involved Zeon. All of it was nothing but speculation.
Whether it was true that Franz had used the Axis of Time. If so, what could have driven him to do such a thing? What on earth had Franz discovered that made him start a war just to use it?
No, more than that.
Had Bern even truly lived? Was that life nothing more than an illusion? Was this life reality?
“I… don’t know any of it.”
The scent of grass, soaked by the rain that had just stopped.
Enveloped in that scent, Calian looked around and spoke.
He was on a small, hilly field, like an island floating solitary beneath the sky. A tiny place perched in a vast expanse where neither land nor sea could be seen. The place he had visited when he first met Sispanian.
—Where is this place?
—A place where human feet cannot tread.
He had returned to the place where his question had yielded only an incomprehensible answer. He wondered if Sispanian was the one who had sent him and the red bird—now perched with folded wings upon a small, withered tree—to this place. That, too, was merely speculation.
“What did you do, you who were awake?”
“I watched. Just as you said.”
Finally, an answer came. He had received his reply.
Just as he had speculated, on that final day, she had done nothing.
—Please, Serenti.
—If you are out there somewhere… could you not say ‘it is enough now’ and stop this…?
—...Please.
Chase’s prayer on that day—the prayer of a man he could no longer meet. It was a plea Bern had never heard, but Serenti had. And she had simply watched as that prayer to a god lost its way.
“Why? Why did you do that? When you could silence people, erase memories, and interfere so arbitrarily… why did you do nothing for that alone?”
Serenti did not answer.
She appeared even more mystical than Sispanian, a tail dripping with sparks hanging down as she sat in silence, watching Calian.
As if to say that was all she could do.
As if she would answer nothing, even after hearing all of Bern's resentment and Chase's prayers.
“Are you not going to answer me?”
The War of the Two Gods in the past.
Had the same thing happened this time? Had the first move, the white piece, been stolen by an Evil God who appeared out of nowhere? Had the white piece been stolen by someone else again, forcing a late response? Unlike back then, had they failed to close the gap this time, resulting in defeat?
Was that why you had Franz wind back time?
Was it to take the white piece and make the first move on this newly laid board? Is it true that you abandoned everything that was already too late and started a second game?
Are you certain that you will win this second game? Can I live believing that you are so certain? Or are you, too, merely speculating about victory? In the end, he asked the very questions Franz had warned him against.
“No.”
Serenti answered.
“It is not the second.”
She delivered an answer that deviated entirely from his questions.
“You were left behind. I brought you here.”
When the Axis of Time turned back, she had brought Bern, who had been left alone in frozen time. This wasn't the second attempt. Even after discarding the black piece and taking the white, they had still failed to win.
And so, time had wound back once more.
“It is enough now,” the sleeping god answered. “It is finished.”
Calian heard none of it.
Knowing the god’s answers would not reach him, Calian smiled. A smile like a brilliant spring graced his vivid red lips, set starkly against his pale face.
“Amusing.”
But Calian’s response reached Serenti.
*
Jerky again?
Seeing the black cloth-wrapped object thrust before him, Calian grew wary. His Royal Highness, his older brother, was constantly yanking a leash Calian had never handed him, showing no intention of treating him like a normal person. So, Calian couldn’t help but wonder if this was more jerky.
Of course, he didn’t feel wronged. He was simply curious whether it was jerky or a snack meant for humans.
Whether it was Calian checking to see if Franz had withered away from waiting, or Franz bringing Calian jerky, there wasn’t much difference between them.
“It’s not food.”
As if expecting such doubts, Franz answered first.
There was no reason to continue a conversation with Serenti when her answers would not be heard, so Calian had cast aside the futile agony of trying to speak further. Having done so, he had naturally stepped out of the cavern.
Before they knew it, the sun was beginning to set.
In front of the tightly closed cavern entrance stood the Pea, just as it had when they arrived, waiting quietly for his younger brother in the rays of the setting sun. Arsen was just a short distance down the path, yet Franz hadn’t gone to him. Calian was about to ask if he had been waiting long when Franz thrust the object forward again, repeating that it wasn’t food.
Slightly disappointed, Calian asked, “Then what is it?”
“A fragment. The one from the sea.”
“Do you mean the Axis of Time?”
“Yes.”
Franz, who had not forgotten why they came, had given up on hearing Sispanian’s answer and was now relaying the necessary information. As soon as Franz finished speaking, a fist-sized metal fragment was placed in his hand by Sispanian. She had retrieved what Arnayzel possessed right away.
“You mean she retrieved what was in the sea in that brief moment?”
“She said she knew where the Sea Dragon would be.”
“...Right.”
Apparently, knowing where it was meant it could be found instantly.
Calian nodded, trying his best to comprehend Sispanian’s abilities through Franz’s fragmented explanation.
Soon, he unwrapped the cloth. A portion of the Axis of Time, which he had seen in the treasury of the Secritia Royal Palace before time wound back, revealed itself.
Looking down at the fragment with an unfamiliar expression, Calian spoke in a quiet voice.
“Perhaps because it’s only a fragment, I can’t feel any energy from it, even this close. The intact Axis wasn’t like this.”
“Does it normally have a different energy?”
“Yes. It wasn’t mana, and it was different from the divine power of healers. It radiated a strange, foreign energy I had never felt before.”
“What about the ones gathered in the palace basement?”
“It was the same. Although I couldn’t look at them this closely, the ones gathered there didn’t emit the same energy as back then either.”
Just like the other fragments Sispanian had gathered in the basement of the Kairis Royal Palace, the piece in his hand looked like nothing more than an ordinary metal fragment, devoid of both mana and divine power.
Averting his eyes from the fragment, Calian turned his head toward the cavern entrance and spoke.
“If she can retrieve it this quickly, she should be able to place it directly in the palace’s stone chamber. I don’t understand why she’s entrusting this to me. Did she say anything else?”
“She did.”
“...Then you should have told me that as well, brother.”
“She told me to have you deliver it.”
“Why me, specifically?”
Franz nodded, his gaze falling to the incomprehensible characters inscribed on the metal. “She said that since the Sea Dragon used it once, you should be the one to deliver it.”
Calian looked up from the fragment to stare at Franz. Franz continued.
“She didn’t say by when you had to deliver it.”
“...Then…”
The Axis of Time.
An object possessing power immense enough to forcibly wind back time. The very object the great king of Secritia held when he stood before the Evil God.
Unable to directly explain how else it could be used, Sispanian had once again provided only a hint. She had reminded them that Arnayzel had drawn upon its power.
“Master might be able to recognize it.”
The trace left on the fragment by Arnayzel’s mana when the Sea Dragon used it. Alan might be able to recognize that. He might be able to figure out how Arnayzel’s mana had utilized the fragment.
“I never expected that Sea Dragon to be of help.”
He recalled the forgetful Sea Dragon’s prank—that time he’d gone sightseeing underwater, or more accurately, nearly drowned to death while Arnayzel had time frozen. The memory brought a soft chuckle to his lips. Franz, who had been watching Calian without any change in expression, spoke.
“And.”
“Yes.”
His red eyes, made even more prominent by the setting sun, turned toward Franz. Franz, who had been waiting to convey something far more important than the fragment of the Axis, opened his mouth.
“There’s no need to apologize.”
Calian’s voice cut him off before he could continue.
“...Why?”
“Because I know you didn’t call me that to drive a thorn into me.”
The name he had intended to keep hidden until the very end.
It was a name like a freshly formed scar, a wound that had only just begun to close. It could never heal further, no matter how much time passed. Hearing it from someone’s lips now could never be the same as when it was called in that vanished past. It only served as a reminder that he would never be called Bern again.
Franz couldn’t have known that by calling out that name to stop a Calian who was losing his mind—by addressing the one before Serenti as Bern—he was only forcing him back to a painful reality. He couldn’t have known it would sound like a demand to stop acting like someone who no longer existed and return to the name that belonged here.
Wasn’t Franz still too young to understand why the Chase of this timeline didn’t call him ‘Bern’ the way the past Chase had?
“I know you only found it to remember me, and you only said it to comfort me. That’s not something you need to apologize for.”
“I’m sorry.”
Because even if the intention was different, a wound once inflicted does not simply disappear. Franz, who knew at least that much, offered his apology anyway.
“...Yes.”
Having received the apology, Calian—Bern—grinned.
Soon, he tucked the fragment of the Axis securely into his pocket. Then, looking out at the Siegfried territory sprawling beneath the mountain, he spoke.
“Then buy me some meat. I’m hungry. I’ll worry about today’s matters after my stomach is full.”
Whether he wanted Franz to buy him meat—bypassing the perfectly good Duke’s mansion—or perhaps alcohol that he could enjoy under the pretext of the Crown Prince’s notorious love for drink, was anyone’s guess.
“Fine.”
In any case, Franz’s coffers were far from empty, so the Crown Prince, who could easily afford whatever his little brother drank, nodded.
“Sir Hertz worked hard today, so it would be nice if he came along.”
“Fine.”
“You can buy his share, too, then.”
“No.”
“...So decisive. Then I’ll pay for Sir Hertz’s meal.”
“Fine.”
“Alright.”
My lackey worked hard guarding the door all day. If his other boss won’t pay for his meal, I can certainly pay for it myself. Smiling cheerfully, as if there were no issue at all, Calian started down the path to call out to Arsen.
Or rather, he was about to.
Arsen should have heard Calian and Franz’s voices from the cavern entrance, yet he hadn’t come. Calian, who had been too busy thinking about what kind of meat to get after receiving Franz’s apology to question it, narrowed his eyes.
The light patter of Calian’s footsteps vanished. He left Franz standing there as his figure melted into the shadows, materializing beside Arsen an instant later.
—Crunch!
The sound of something solid shattering followed.
The killing intent and Pier that had seeped out of the cavern.
Deciding to live as the Prince's lackey was the absolute best decision of my life, Arsen thought. Besides, I was getting bored waiting, so this worked out perfectly. All I have to do is tuck it nicely into my pocket before the Prince arrives, right?
It was the sound of the ice sculpture he had just started making for that very reason shattering.
"Sir Hertz."
"...Yes, Your Highness."
"Explain."
"It is training."
"To my eyes, it looked like a sculpture of me."
"No, it is not," Arsen insisted. "It is training."
"What kind of training?"
"I materialized it by containing three different energies."
"Elaborate."
"I sculpted Your Highness's figure out of ice, but I struggled with how to represent you using killing intent and Pier simultaneously. Then, I thought I could express the killing intent with fire and the Pier with sandy dust. I was brainstorming a way to materialize and maintain three elemental magics at the same time, and I ended up creating this."
Having approached in the meantime, Franz took in the situation and let out a deep, heavy sigh.
First, there was one man trying to infuse Aura with Pier to create a black horse, and now another was gathering the energies of ice, fire, and earth to make a statue of Calian. Franz was once again forced to realize that the only sane person around him was his fiancée.
"...Sir Hertz."
The mad, blue-haired mage, whose only remaining duty was to receive his Annerusia, looked at Calian. Calian, in turn, looked from the debris scattered on the ground to Arsen, then lowered his head.
His shoulders trembled slightly.
A soft, breezy laugh escaped him.
For the first time in a long while, he burst into laughter.
He laughed so hard he could barely straighten his back, a hearty, unrestrained sound that went on and on—so loud that the birds that had just settled into their nests for the night startled and took flight in a flurry.
After laughing like that for a good while, Calian finally managed to raise his head. With amusement still dancing on his face, he held out his hand.
"Give it to me. Now."
"My life, Your Highness?"
"Not yet. Give me the spoon."
Arsen's face lit up.
"Ah! Are you going to break the spoon in my place?"
"Yes. I'll break the spoon instead of you, Sir."
"Yes, Your Highness!"
Answering quickly, Arsen offered up the spoon he had been carefully preserving. He wore a triumphant grin, looking for all the world like an archmage who had just conquered the universe.
The spoon snapped with a sharp crack under Calian’s gentle touch—a touch that was holding back a deep-seated urge to snap his lackey instead.
Two broken by accident.
One broken on purpose.
"This is perfect now. Thank you, Your Highness," Arsen declared.
The collection was finally complete.
