The World After the Eclipse

The sun rose over the half-ruined Seorigol.

The endless darkness that had followed the Eclipse seeped away into the shadows, fleeing the light climbing from the far eastern horizon.

Blood and corpses. Shattered wreckage.

The final chapter of the prologue called the Eclipse was drawing to a close, making its case for exactly what the dark fantasy genre truly meant.

"Are you all right?"

In front of me, Grandmother Elara was growing cold.

The final shockwave unleashed by the Whispering Horror had been far too fatal for the old assassin's body.

"Do I look all right?"

Words still colder than her body.

I had long since grown used to her way of speaking.

Yet, surprisingly, her face held not so much pain as a faint trace of satisfaction.

Seeing that, I decided I could afford to treat her a little more casually.

"What are you so happy about?"

"Heh heh heh. Is that any way to talk to a dying vassal?"

"Since you're seeing your life flash before your eyes anyway, how about narrating a bit?"

"Hah!"

Elara stared at me as if she couldn't believe her ears, then broke into a bright smile.

"That lord of ours really has changed, hasn't he."

And with that, she began to speak of herself.

That she had once been an assassin of the Blackwood family. Things only their kind would know. The mission she had received one day. The seal she had broken by carrying it out, and the countless deaths that followed.

"…I spent my whole life running."

A life of committing a great sin and fleeing from it.

Just as there is no paradise at the end of flight, Seorigol had never been a place she could call paradise. Just live like this until I die. That had been her heart. And yet.

"You changed."

Elara's eyes turned to me. A strange light flickered in them.

"Ian Darkest. You and I were complete opposites."

"Well, starting with age, yeah."

"Heh heh."

Blood kept flowing from Elara's smiling mouth. I moved to give her first aid, but she quietly shook her head. She just wanted me to listen.

"I ran from the catastrophe I caused. To smother that filthy guilt, I took in a beastkin child with no mother. Anya, that is. You, on the other hand… were the complete opposite. You had done nothing wrong, and yet—cough—you chose to stand and fight that damned catastrophe. Never even… thought of running…"

She smiled faintly.

"…So… I wanted to try fighting… just once… Dying like this… feels far better… than running…"

Her final words were almost too soft to hear.

"Anya… that child… take care of her…"

Her last request. I nodded quietly.

"Don't worry, Grandmother. I… promise I'll keep it."

Thud.

As if she had only been waiting for my answer, her head lolled to the side.

No more breath came.

The assassin who had spent her entire life fleeing through the dark had, for the first time, fought for someone else—and for the first time, met an honorable death.

I closed her eyes in silence.

I was calm.

More than sorrow… it was a heavy, hollow feeling.

Her sacrifice felt noble, yet at the same time it drove home once more the merciless nature of this dark fantasy world.

Death is always far too close, and it arrives so emptily.

Every ending is followed by death.

New graves were dug in one corner of the Seorigol fief.

They belonged to the unclaimed soldiers of the Darkest family who had fallen during the Eclipse, and to Grandmother Elara, who had saved everyone in her final moments and then gone to sleep.

The funeral was modest.

There was only the sincere mourning of those who truly cared.

Anya, especially, stayed before Elara's grave for three days and nights, weeping without leaving.

I watched it all in silence.

Elara's death was tragic, and the soldiers' sacrifice tore at the heart. Yet one corner of my mind remained strangely calm.

Because this is Tales of Legend.

I reminded myself once more.

Whether I was a possessor, whether I carried memories of a past life, whether I received help from a system… none of it could change the essence of this world. This was a dark fantasy world. Death was everyday. Tragedy was natural. Happy endings were never guaranteed. At any moment I, too, could become just another body in one of those graves.

Weakness is a sin. Complacency invites death.

I have to grow stronger.

Standing before Elara's grave, I made a firm resolve.

To survive. And to protect the things that mattered.

I myself had to become strong, and this Seorigol fief had to be made overwhelmingly strong as well.

"…My lord."

While I was lost in thought, Caelen approached. His arm was bandaged, but his complexion looked far better than before. With the Whispering Horror gone, the mental contamination seemed to have lifted as well.

"It seems we must return to the main house now."

"Calling me 'my lord,' are you?"

At my words, Caelen flinched with a startled sound, then cleared his throat and deftly sidestepped the question as he continued.

"The soldiers' losses are severe. I myself barely escaped with my life. But… more than half of them had to be buried here."

Bitterness colored his voice.

"I will have… a great deal to report to the family head."

I met his eyes.

Depending on the content of his report, my relationship with the Darkest family could completely collapse—or flow in some unexpected direction.

More than half the forces he had brought were dead. The Darkest family might well hold me responsible.

"To be honest, at first I despised you."

Caelen spoke.

"In the family you were always filled with inferiority, and you acted so pitifully that it showed. But after going through this, I have come to see you differently. You… are not the weak bastard son I once knew."

"Thanks for the kind evaluation."

"I am not praising you. I am merely stating what I felt."

A trace of confusion and distrust still lingered in his gaze, yet it held a different kind of emotion than before. Perhaps something close to awe.

"…But remember this. The lord I serve is still Lord Lionel Darkest."

He left those meaningful words and turned away.

"Please take care of yourself."

The remaining soldiers under his command left Seorigol.

Watching their retreating backs, I turned over his final words. He had acknowledged me, yet he still remained loyal to Lionel. How he would report to the family… was hard to predict.

I'll think about the family later.

I shook my head. The problems I had to solve right now were piled mountain-high.

I also needed to sort through the memories that had surfaced while living through these events.

For example, the memories of Linea Judith.

The unstable remnants of past-life memories seemed to rise from the deep recesses of my mind whenever I came into contact with something related.

When time had suddenly stopped.

I had instinctively known it was Linea Judith's skill.

I had expected her appearance, yet the one who arrived was Grandmother Elara. After that, Linea Judith was nowhere to be found.

…So she really did freeze the entire western region in a wide-area cast?

It was an absurd thought.

Only an Aberration, not a human, could pull off magic of that scale.

Still, it felt more reliable than assuming Linea remembered me. Regression wipes the memories of every person. I couldn't afford to wait around fretting over a Linea who never appeared.

More urgent was the reason the Aberration had shown up in the first place.

The Whispering Horror. Why the hell did it appear here?

Perhaps because of the massive shock I had endured, memories of the Aberrations began surfacing belatedly in my mind.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Whispering Horror.

Aberration threat rank: B.

When it appears in the Eclipse episode, it only shows up in territories of at least five-star rank—city-scale fiefs or larger.

Why a creature like that had appeared in this worthless Seorigol kept nagging at me.

But there was no way to find out right now.

I would have to investigate slowly while rebuilding the fief.

I drew a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hard, cold object from my coat.

The Eye of Nightmare.

The rare accessory left behind when the Whispering Horror died—one that boasted an abysmal drop rate even in the game.

Besides this, the warehouse was stacked with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Chaos Crystals left by the countless monsters I had felled during the Eclipse.

Most were low-grade crystals, but the quantity was considerable. If I disposed of or processed them properly, they would become enormous capital for developing Seorigol.

Seed money for stock investment, huh.

I let out a short laugh and looked over the barren yet now slightly different Seorigol.

I had lost much, yet at the same time I had gained much. I had survived, and I had gained the chance to grow stronger.

The prologue—the Eclipse episode—had only just ended. Yet perhaps I had already passed the hardest gate of all.

Adopting a mindset worthy of dark fantasy. How many players had died emptily because they failed at that.

I looked up at the sky.

The clear blue sky was peaceful, as if nothing had ever happened.

That night.

I carefully rose from my bed and left the keep. Under the moonlight, the newly made graves shone white. I approached Elara's grave.

And beside it, I found a small huddled form.

In a shallow hollow, Anya had buried her face in her knees and was sniffling in the tiniest of sounds. Just as she had for the past several days.

I sat quietly beside her without a word. Normally Anya would have bristled like a wild beast, her tail fur standing on end, but now she showed no reaction at all. She seemed so deeply submerged in grief that she had no energy left to notice her surroundings.

I don't know how much ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠time passed. I took a hardened piece of bread and a water flask from my coat and carefully set them in front of Anya.

"…Eat."

Anya did not move. I spoke again.

"Grandmother Elara… wouldn't want you to starve either."

At those words, Anya's shoulders trembled faintly. She slowly lifted her head. Tear tracks stood out clearly on her swollen eyes. She looked at me for a moment, then turned her gaze to the bread. With her tiny hands she picked it up and slowly brought it to her mouth.

We sat side by side in silence, watching the night sky. Anya occasionally sniffled as she tore off small pieces of bread, and I simply stayed quietly at her side. I offered no comfort or pity. I was merely present as someone who shared the same sorrow.

At last, when the eastern sky began to brighten, Anya put the last remaining piece of bread into her mouth. Her crying had stopped. Grief still filled her, yet something different now lingered in her eyes.

I stood and held out my hand to Anya. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, then took my hand with her small one. I helped her to her feet.

On the way back to Seorigol.

Just as we were about to cross the threshold of the fief.

"Hah… hah… Over there!"

A man who looked as if he had ridden hard from afar shouted while gasping for breath. The crest of the Imperial Royal Academy was embroidered on his clothes.

"Are you Lord Ian Darkest?"

"Yes. That's me."

The man pulled a scroll from his coat and held it out.

It was an official letter stamped with the imperial seal.

"An emergency dispatch from the Imperial Royal Academy! An emergency summons for all academy members—return to the academy at once!"

I took the scroll and unrolled it.

Concise yet imposing sentences. An emergency meeting summons.

The reason was not stated, but it was not hard to guess.

The Eclipse.

It could not have been a catastrophe limited to Seorigol alone. The entire continent would have been thrown into chaos.

I drew a deep breath while holding the letter.

Beside me, Anya anxiously tugged at the hem of my clothes.

The story after the Eclipse.

A world that had turned into dark fantasy.

The true main story was about to begin.