The Family's Spy
On the desolate plain beyond the frozen outskirts of Seorigol, time itself had stopped.
In a silence so absolute that even the moonlight seemed locked in ice, Galan forgot how to breathe as he stared at the figure before him.
Cherry-blossom pink hair drifted unnaturally in the still air, and green eyes deeper than the night itself bored straight through him.
Linea Judith.
The genius of the Blue Magic Tower.
The mage who commanded time.
Terror seized Galan so completely that every sense in his body seemed to go numb.
Why was she here?
Why, of all people, had she appeared before him? And more than that… how did she know he was a spy?
"You're a spy for the Darkest family."
Galan had heard the stories.
They said Linea Judith's voice was like cotton candy.
Soft and pillowy, matching the image her pink hair conjured — endlessly gentle, endlessly sweet.
But not now.
Her voice cut like shards of ice, ringing not in his ears but directly inside his skull.
Sharp fragments seemed to pierce his brain.
It hurt enough to burn.
"So Lionel is already plotting Ian's death, is he?"
"Th-that's—"
Galan wanted to deny it, but he couldn't even move his lips. Neither affirmation nor denial was possible — only absolute submission. That was the pressure Linea herself exerted simply by existing.
How.
How does this woman know?
This is information only Lord Lionel's closest confidants are supposed to have.
Can she read other people's memories?
Because she's a mage who manipulates time?
"Talk."
Her voice sliced through the air again, cold and precise.
She approached him slowly. No emotion touched that beautiful face, yet deep in her eyes a dangerous fire was burning.
"Everything Lionel Darkest is plotting. All of it."
Galan fought desperately to resist. His loyalty to Lord Lionel. The mental discipline drilled into him as a spy.
But the moment his gaze met hers, all of it crumbled like a castle of sand.
His will was powerless before her mana.
Like a puppet on strings, Galan's mouth opened of its own accord.
Lionel's plans. The conspiracy to have Ian expelled from the Academy. The malicious rumors spread among the students. And… everything about the disciplinary committee being convened. It all poured out of him without resistance.
"…The committee convenes three days from now, in the morning. Everything… is already prepared. Key faculty members, even influence from the Imperial Court… it can't be stopped."
Galan stammered through his terror as he spilled the truth.
A pleading light filled his eyes. A silent scream begging to be spared.
Linea listened without a word.
Her expression never changed, but the air around them seemed to freeze even colder. Tomorrow morning. Time was running short.
"A way to stop it."
Linea's voice was low as a whisper, yet it carried the force of a command that could not be refused.
"There is… no way. I swear it! Lord Lionel has already put every piece in pla— Ghk!"
Galan's words broke into a scream.
Agony tore through his entire body as if he were being ripped apart.
An invisible hand seemed to close around his throat, and he thrashed in unbearable pain.
"A way."
Linea asked again.
Her eyes now held unmistakable murderous intent — as if she would forgive no one, no matter who they were, who dared threaten Ian.
"I-I really… don't know… Just… kill… me…"
Galan wept as he begged.
In pain worse than the fear of death itself, he genuinely wanted to give up everything.
Linea looked down at him for a moment.
She could read no falsehood in his eyes. He truly seemed not to know.
"…Fine."
At a flick of Linea's hand, the torment crushing Galan vanished. He collapsed to the ground, gasping raggedly for air.
"I'll be taking your memories."
A faint light flowed from Linea's fingertips and seeped into Galan's mind.
His infiltration of Seorigol. His conversation with Linea just now. Everything was erased, and the light drained from his eyes until they were hollow.
"Go back now. You saw nothing. You heard nothing."
As Linea's final words faded, frozen time began to flow once more.
Galan looked around blankly. He had no idea why he was there or what he had been trying to do.
He staggered to his feet and vanished into the darkness along the path he had come. No information would reach Lionel.
"I'm sorry, Miss Linea. About the things you're talking about… I don't clearly remember any of it."
"If the chance comes, let's talk again sometime."
That brief reunion with Ian at the Academy.
For Linea, it had been a wound.
Left alone in the corridor after his back disappeared, she had nearly crumpled to the floor where she stood.
Strength drained from her entire body, and a despair so deep it blacked out her vision crashed over her.
Back in her quarters, Linea collapsed face-down on the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
Tears soaked the boards beneath her.
…So this is how it ends, after all.
Years of waiting.
Time spent hoping only to see him again. She had locked herself in the Magic Tower's research labs, studying even forbidden magic, desperately hunting for traces of him among the fragments of time. His name. His face. Every scrap of evidence connected to him.
She had run on those clues alone.
She had defied the Tower's objections and the chaos of the world, coming all the way to this Academy for one reason — to meet him.
And he… did not remember her.
His last words to her had been nothing more than a faint possibility with no promise of another meeting. It was a rejection so cold and so cruel it felt as though he were telling her she was no longer needed.
What… am I supposed to do now?
She felt as if she had lost every purpose she had. Finding him had been the sole meaning of her life — and now that meaning was gone. Emptiness crashed over her, and with it the urge to abandon everything.
No.
Linea shook her head hard. Tears welled, but she forced them down.
Even if Ian doesn't remember me… nothing changes.
She rose slowly from the floor. She put strength into her trembling legs.
What he gave me doesn't disappear just because of that.
In another timeline, he had thrown away his own life to save hers. That was an undeniable fact. The memory was hazy, yet it remained as vivid as if carved into her soul. He had left her a debt of life — something nothing in the world could repay.
So I have to pay it back.
The light in Linea's eyes changed. Where despair and sorrow had settled, a cold, hard resolve took their place.
I'll protect you, Ian.
Whether he needed her or not. Whether he remembered her or not. None of that mattered.
She owed him her life. If only to repay that debt, she had to protect him.
Memories of Ian Darkest
◈ Progress:12%
The moment she made that vow, forgotten memories began to surface faintly in her mind. Fragmentary and unclear, yet the pieces were assembling themselves into a single picture.
Ian smiling warmly as he stroked her hair.
His exhausted face as he stayed up through the night watching over her clumsy magic experiments.
His broad back as he pulled her into his arms without hesitation in a moment of danger.
And then…
His body collapsing, bleeding out. Another version of herself screaming as she clung to him.
…Is this a different timeline?
It was different from the death of Ian she already remembered — different from the moment he had bled out in her arms.
The one who drove a sword through his chest was… his brother. Lionel Darkest.
…!
Linea caught her breath. The shards of memory rising within her were brutal, yet at the same time they hardened her resolve even further.
As a mage who commanded the flow of time, she understood. Countless timelines wound through the world. In that river of possibility, the moments she and Ian had met must have been beyond counting.
And in every one of those meetings, he had shown her a degree of care and affection she never deserved. Sometimes as a patron. Sometimes as a comrade. Sometimes… as someone whose name she never knew.
Across all those times, he had tried to protect her. Even at the cost of his own life.
And so, now.
On the outskirts of the Darkest territory.
"……."
Linea looked up at the sky.
Untouched by any artificial light of man, the heavens glittered with countless stars.
Linea knew.
No matter how time changed, those stars never did.
Her green eyes shone cold and clear as the stars of the night sky.
Beneath the Milky Way, Linea whispered.
"…I'll pay it all back, Ian."
Her voice no longer trembled.
It was a vow.
A promise carved into countless stars — one that would never change.
"I don't remember everything. But everything you gave me, and every moment we shared. Every single one."
A faint current of blue mana began to rise around her body.
The wind blew.
And Linea Judith was no longer there.