Lies Pour Out the Moment I Open My Mouth

"....."

"....."

"....."

Nobody said a word through the entire evening meal.

Abraham, who even on ordinary days would grow quieter the instant he sensed his master's foul mood, had gone completely silent. Even Oralisa — who normally glued herself to my side and chattered through every bite — kept her mouth shut.

This is painfully awkward.

In a way, I had it coming.

I could have killed Osam the Mad without breaking a sweat. Three hours of continuous fighting had worn him down to nothing, and the proof was written in every swing — the speed of his blade had fallen off a cliff. On that last ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠exchange I could have slipped his attack and taken his head clean off.

I didn't.

I let his executioner's blade shatter my shoulder and split my heart. I took his head in the same instant, sure — but that still meant the party watched me die.

The silence sitting over this table was my own karma.

Not that I'd had a choice.

Osam could come back whenever a new challenger walked in. I could come back whenever I spent a thousand gems. His entire fighting style was built on staking his own life, and the raw power that bought him was monstrous. He was a monster, yes, but his body was close enough to human that the same logic applied to me — a man who could also refuse to stay dead.

So I dragged the fight out and stole his craft piece by piece.

When the other guy goes for your throat, where do you strike? If you want his throat, what do you have to leave open?

For the entire battle, Osam was my teacher. He handed over every trick he had without holding anything back. Or rather — I took them.

Letting that last attack land was both a courtesy to the man who'd been my instructor for a day, and a vow. A vow that I would kill every enemy who stood in my way the same way Osam did.

Coming back from the dead doesn't make the pain of a blade go away. When Osam swung that executioner's sword at the end, my body tried to flinch on instinct. If I hadn't clamped down with something close to superhuman will, I would have dodged without even meaning to.

A fighting style that bets your life demands an iron will and a vow that you will never, ever give ground. I took that hit so I could burn the vow into myself.

The cost was my party's sanity. The payoff, though, was real.

Status window.

Until I hit level 80, that trait slot had held exactly two entries. Now a third one sat there — a rare-grade trait that doubled my attack power and stacked Strength every time I took a wound.

So. Who do I talk down first?

Abraham hadn't even been there, so I could let him slide. The others were a different story. Aquaril and Oralisa were my fairies. And Kanisia — the woman I'd pushed past friendship into something far more dangerous — needed her feelings handled with care.

Even the strongest dam comes apart once a hairline crack starts to spread. If today's mess put a fracture in what Kanisia and I had built, she might walk away from me someday.

Kanisia, leaving me?

Was I actually capable of standing there and watching her go?

Not a chance. I would do whatever it took to keep her at my side. Whatever it took.

Which meant I had to fix today. Properly. So that in every version of the future, Kanisia was still standing next to me.

Sorry, Aquaril. Sorry, Oralisa…

Kanisia's head came first. It was a cold calculation, and I felt like shit for making it, but the two of them were fairies. Even if I shattered them, they couldn't leave.

Fucking piece-of-shit system. Completely tone-deaf, I swear to god.

I swallowed a mouthful of soup and cursed the system in silence.

My choices had started this, but the system was the one that landed the finishing blow.

When Osam and I rammed our blades through each other and died at the same time, the following windows had bloomed in the air.

After those windows appeared, I came back through Molt — and the system lost its mind.

The error window stacked itself over and over. Then a notice popped up saying the fault had been resolved, and I walked away with one of the items Osam had been wearing.

Every window that appears inside the Hall of Fame is visible to the entire raiding party. Which meant Kanisia, Aquaril, and Oralisa had all watched ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the system itself confirm that I was dead.

If those windows had never shown up, the shock wouldn't have cut this deep. I could have talked us past it with a little verbal sleight of hand, smooth as a snake over a wall.

I've got a resurrection skill. So why the hell did it announce that I died?

I couldn't begin to guess.

"…I'm turning in first."

Kanisia set down her plate, stood, and left the table. She ducked into the tent, came back out with a towel and a change of clothes, and walked out of camp — heading off to wash, from the look of it.

Now.

"I'll get up too."

I stood, meaning to follow her. I didn't take a step.

"....."

"....."

Aquaril was staring at me with eyes so sad they hurt to look at. Oralisa's gaze was vacant, unfocused — and her pretty eyes were already glassy, tears welling up and threatening to spill.

I froze under that look. Hesitated. Then I reached out and stroked both of my beloved fairies' heads.

"I'll be right back. Just wait a little. And I'm really fine, so don't tear yourselves up over this, all right? I love you, Aquaril. I love you, Oralisa."

"…Yes, Master. I love you as well."

"Okay… go on, Master… Oralisa will wait. Sniff."

God. That hurts.

Watching the two of them nod with those wrecked faces felt like something tearing open in my chest. I forced my feet to move and headed for the lake where Kanisia had gone.

Kanisia is… wow.

I reached the lake and stopped dead, staring at the woman standing in the water.

Pale skin. Pink hair darkened and heavy with wet. She had her back to me, but the full curve of one breast still slipped into view at her side, and the line that started there cinched in at her waist before flaring wide at her hips. Moonlight laid a soft glaze over all of it, the last brushstroke on a painting — as if the spirit of the lake itself had stepped out of the water to stand in front of me.

"Ahem."

"....."

I cleared my throat and waded closer. She didn't turn. She had to have heard me.

"Kanisia."

"....."

"Are you really not going to look at me? Look at me. Please."

"…Why did you come."

Calling her name a second time finally got a response. She still didn't turn around.

So that's how it is.

I tasted something bitter. The crack I'd written off as small was wider and deeper than I'd wanted to believe.

…Yeah. I would've been the same.

I understood her. If I'd watched Kanisia die in front of me the way I had — on purpose, the same way — I would have come halfway unhinged.

I couldn't keep pretending this feeling wasn't what it was. I loved her. She wasn't a tool I could spend anymore. She was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

I stripped. Piece by piece, until I was as bare as she was, and I stepped into the lake.

I came up ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠behind her and pulled her into my arms.

Soft.

A thought that had no business showing up in a moment this heavy — but her body really was soft, yielding, almost plush. Was this the same woman who carved through battlefields with a spear?

"…Let go."

"I'm sorry, Kanisia."

"I said let go."

"It was something I had to do."

"…Had to?"

That was the spark. She tore my arms off her and spun around. Her pink eyes were on fire.

"Throwing your life away to some monster was something you had to do? Do you even hear yourself?"

"Yeah. I had to."

"…Ha. You're actually calling that—"

"I told you before, didn't I? I want to get stronger. Fast."

"Why are you bringing that up now?"

Back when we were clearing the Catacomb, I'd asked Kanisia what she thought of the Lust Release skill. Getting stronger through a curse. She'd been against it. Said the orthodox path was slower but safer — and better.

"I have to get stronger. Faster than I am now."

"Why? Why do you need to go that far? Even if you get stronger that way—"

"I'll be honest with you, Kanisia."

I cut her off. If I was going to give her the truth, I was going to look her in the eye while I did it. The man reflected in those pink irises looked deadly serious.

All right. Here we go.

"…What?"

Technically I'm from another world. But I already know what's going to happen here, so it's the same thing as being a regressor, right? Which means calling myself one isn't a lie.

"I can't swear that the world I originally lived in and the world I'm standing in front of you in now are the exact same world. That's a concept way above my pay grade, and honestly I don't really understand it myself."

"You… what are you even—"

"I'm sorry. Just hear me out to the end."

"…Fine. Talk."

"Thank you. The me from before — the me from before the regression — was a weak man. Nothing like I am now. A lazy piece of trash who sat on his ass and barely even ran dungeons."

"....."

"I was living easy, day after day, just taking it slow with my fairies. And then a war broke out. A huge one. Continent-wide."

"A war…?"

"Yeah. A war. The Ferdium Empire, Palos's Bird, and every king and queen who piled in to carve off their own piece — all of them tangled together ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in one enormous meat grinder."

"The world in those days was hell. People butchering people. A screaming, blood-soaked hell. And there was nothing I could do in the middle of it. My family dying in front of me. My fairies dying in front of me. I couldn't lift a finger. Because back then, I was weak. Pathetically, hopelessly weak."

"And hell didn't stop there. Twelve monsters showed up. The kind you cannot fight."

"Humanity was already gutted by the war. We couldn't stop those twelve. We didn't even kill one. The monsters dragged more monsters out of the dungeons and used them to slaughter us. Slaughter, and slaughter, and slaughter again."

"After those things appeared, humans weren't the masters of this world anymore."

"The people who'd been at each other's throats finally joined forces, but by then it was already far too late. The last war was fought with the fate of the continent — the fate of the human race — on the line. And I never saw how it ended. Because that's where I died."

"But we lost. We must have. The monsters were strong, and we were already broken."

"Th-that's…"

Kanisia staggered, the words hitting her like a physical blow.

Most of what I'd just told her was fiction — a story I'd stitched together out of the lore of Fairy Masters and the scraps of information I'd torn out of Gigaesingwan. Most of it. Not all of it.

There was truth mixed in.

The Empire. Palos's Bird. Kings and queens sitting on stockpiled power.

They would go to war for the whole continent. Even if it meant setting the entire landmass on fire.

A great war to feed desire was coming. That much was certain.