Chapter 19
Chapter 19
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 19
Chapter Title: S1. Irid and Centra's Finale -2
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Irid stepped forward to ensure Centra wouldn't get caught up in the fight. From beyond the passage, a red hue fluttered closer.
The sound of their footsteps echoed messily through the corridor before halting in unison at some point.
Under the dim lighting, the prince and the mercenary faced off. Irid gripped his dagger and stood tall.
Shring.
Ronya drew her longsword and rested it on her shoulder. Her face was flushed with irritation and rage all the way to the tips of her hair. She spat out her words.
"I had a bad feeling from the start. You had such an unlucky face."
"You were a nuisance too, you lowly mercenary scum."
"If that bitch Centra hadn't picked you up, you'd have been a slave by now, you big-talking bastard..."
"You're all talk. Time's wasting. If you're just gonna flap your gums, run away now. I won't bother chasing you."
"Who the hell do you think you are──!!"
Ronya gripped her longsword with both hands and charged. It was a move Irid recognized.
It had only been a week's worth of rushed preparation, but Irid had trained desperately until his hands blistered.
I can block it!
Clang-! Scraaaape.
The longsword's weight was too much for a dagger to deflect easily. Every time their blades met, twisted, and barely slid off, Irid's body lurched violently. But he didn't fall.
One clash. Two.
The screech of metal against metal bounced off the secret passage walls, turning into an eerie echo. Sparks flew in the darkness, and with each burst, it was as if the flames leaped from one to the other.
Rage burned in Ronya's eyes like wildfire, while Irid's resolve hardened like steel.
Block and deflect. Ronya felt a parched thirst in her throat. Her attacks were being stopped. No matter how hard she swung, nothing landed solidly!
Time... was on the prince's side. If she didn't kill Centra and frame it as the Kingdom Alliance's doing, everything she'd prepared to swallow up the Resistance organization would crumble.
Impatience crept into Ronya's movements, making them sloppy. Irid didn't miss the openings. He wedged his blade between the silver arcs of her swings.
Slash──!
Blood sprayed.
Ronya staggered back two steps, staring blankly at her slashed forearm. Blood poured out—bright red blood. This wasn't supposed to happen.
Irid panted heavily. His lungs burned, and his arms were nearly numb. He had no wounds, but fatigue had piled up. In a battle of endurance, he was sure he'd collapse eventually.
In that moment, Ronya and Irid shared the same thought.
They needed a decisive move to end this fight.
Ronya pulled a black pill from her pocket. Irid grimaced. He knew what it was—a narcotic doping agent produced by black mages and circulated in the underworld.
The pill slid down Ronya's throat. It must have tasted foul; she coughed a few times, spat dry saliva, then let out a creepy chuckle.
"...Heh, hehehe. This... this stuff... is really... something else..."
Her muscles and veins bulged across her body, and black blood began oozing from the gash on her arm. The black pill's doping effect varied by person, but averaged around 30%.
It was one of the worst-case scenarios from the strategy meeting. The First Princess had cautiously predicted defeat. But Irid saw a path to victory.
Irid reversed his grip on the dagger and steadied his mind.
He murmured to himself alone, shaving away his regrets.
"...I wanted to go on a date."
"I wanted to sing together. Finish our unfinished stories. Tell her my true feelings..."
"But it looks like there's no time..."
The mage might be mad, and he might be fooling himself, but she hadn't lied. She'd said the dimensional shift was absolutely safe.
Indeed, after the first shift and return, despite all the persecution in the future Crown Hall, Irid's body showed no changes.
The body in the dimensional shift was separate from his real one.
So what did death in the shifted world mean? The answer was right there. Irid glanced at the clock tattoo on his wrist.
The tattoo's hands ticked from 1 toward 0, with plenty of time left. Somewhere between 1 and 0, there might even be a vision of himself confessing to Centra.
Now, it would remain only in his imagination.
Grrrk. Grraaark. Ronya twisted in agony, foam-flecked saliva dripping from her mouth. Hallucinating perhaps, she jerked her head side to side, then fixed her rolled-back eyes on Irid.
The red beast roared and lunged.
"Die, die already, die, Fallen Emperor──!!"
Kaaaang-!!
Ronya's longsword whistled through the air twice as fast and powerful as before. One clash sent Irid's arm flying back, exposing his chest wide open.
Ronya drew the dagger from her belt. As expected, the finishing blow came with the dagger. He could block it. But even if he did, the next and the one after would cleave him open.
So Irid embraced her.
A searing pain like being burned alive shot through him. It pierced precisely between his ribs into his heart. Blood flowed, and with every heartbeat, he felt his life slipping away.
A chilling sensation of death.
"...Urk, let... go... it's just... an illusion...?"
Irid let out a hollow laugh. The pain was duller than expected, but the dying sensation was vividly horrifying. If it was an illusion, had they perfectly replicated a real death?
At that instant, the clock tattoo erupted in brilliant purple light. The hands spun rapidly toward 0.
As expected. He wouldn't die.
If he wouldn't die, he'd stake it all on death.
Irid reached out, grabbing the back of Ronya's head and locking her in place.
"...A final... embrace. With you of all people... really... rubs me the wrong way."
"D-Die! Die... get off me-!!"
He raised the dagger in reverse grip. His pale face faintly reflected in the blade, smiling cheerfully. How could he not? He'd protected everything to the end.
Stab-! Thrust-!
Irid plunged the dagger into Ronya's throat. Again and again. Until her twitching body went cold and still. Ronya's movements ceased.
His grip loosened, and her corpse slid to the floor with a thud. Clutching the wound at his chest, Irid staggered and collapsed to his knees.
"Die, Fallen Emperor...? If that's your wish, I'll die for you a thousand times over."
The Fallen Emperor who would topple the Empire was gone now.
You struggled to lift your heavy eyelids. It felt like rain was falling.
And there was the woman you loved, weeping bitterly.
It was heartbreaking yet joyful. Your lids weighed a ton, but you were glad you'd opened them.
"Irid... Irid! Please come to, I beg you...!!"
It's okay. I'm just returning to my original world.
Not facing death. Just heading back a hundred years... to a place a bit farther away.
Your lips moved, but no sound came out. Frustrating.
You needed to comfort her. Smiles suited this lovely woman so well.
"Someone... anyone... please help! Somebody...!"
No one would appear in the secret passage. And even if they did, your grievous wound was fatal... No one could reclaim the spilled time.
Was nothing mobile? There was something you had to convey.
Fortunately, your hand seemed to work. You carefully raised it to wipe Centra's tears. It did no good. The rain kept falling.
Then.
You took Centra's hand. Just as she'd guided you, you wanted to guide her now. Share your warmth, give her joy over sorrow.
Did that feeling reach her? Centra forced a smile through her tear-streaked face. She clasped your limp hand preciously with both of hers, hugged it tight as if begging you not to go, and smiled.
"I... I love you. Irid."
Such joyful words.
You had to reply. Tell her you felt the same. You squeezed her hand. It was barely enough strength to grasp a feather, but Centra seemed to understand.
"Because I love you...! Because I love you, don't go. Stay by my side... Don't die, please Irid...!!"
Finally, you'd shared your love and confirmed each other's hearts. In terms of romance, it was only the first step. But time was up... and this would be the last.
If only there'd been a little more time...
As you breathed your final breath.
Centra resolved something and leaned in. Her long lashes, eyes swollen red from crying, sparkling pupils drowned in sorrow, and her lips.
Centra pressed her lips to yours...
"......"
Second Prince Irid let out a hollow chuckle of emptiness.
He lay blankly on the magic circle. Regret, joy, a whirlwind of emotions left him dizzy. Even the heavens weren't so heartless—to cut off at the crucial moment.
Three seconds... no, one more second. Then.
No, perhaps it was fortunate he'd preserved Centra's purity. She could meet another man, build a happy family, live joyfully. Thinking that way, missing a mere kiss wasn't so bad...
No, it still stung.
Irid rubbed his dry face and stood. Looking around, the mad mage was tearing at his hair in torment, while the Violet Magic Tower Master soothed him.
He didn't know what the fuss was about, and he had no bandwidth for others' troubles. He'd just bid farewell to his first love.
He left the two illusion mages behind and exited the tower.
The First Princess and the boy knight waited. He'd already informed the First Princess about the dimensional shift magic. First Princess Elaine asked cautiously.
"...Did you save her?"
"I did. The future worries me... but Centra can handle it."
"Good. That's a relief. Truly..."
The incident was over. Now, in this place a hundred years in the past, he just needed to work for the future where Centra lived. Even now, he wanted to demand if there really were no more chances—if not, create one and hand it over...
But he saved that for when he truly couldn't endure.
For now, he'd be content with having saved Centra.
Irid imagined the feel of lips he couldn't touch and took a step toward the future.