I'm Home. Someday.
"I'm back. Someday. When this war ends, I hope we all gather here in this forest."
Those were Abel's words. Rowen remembered the assassin with black hair. A man quicker and more agile than anyone. Silent, yet subtly rich in emotion. That's what that guy had said.
"I think this place is good."
"You really gonna make it here?"
"Yeah."
"Gotta be cold, though."
"This place is good. A house hidden from others. The perfect hideout for an assassin, right?"
Albrin Forest. Deep within it, the two stood. While everyone else slept. Before leaving the North, Abel wanted to leave his mark here.
"This place is thick with my memories. Traveling gets tiring, and when all the fighting's over, I'll come back here and spend the rest of my days."
Abel's expression was nearly emotionless. A touch sad, perhaps. His gaze, steeped in sentiment, gently cradled the green leaves. It wasn't the vibe you'd expect from an assassin.
"Of course you'll be with me, Rian. All five of us, living peacefully together."
"Why state the obvious? We're all in this together. Forgot already?"
"Just in case. The enemy is strong. The demons, Belzebub—they're cunning. They might be way stronger than us."
"We'll see about that when the time comes."
"So what happened to your father?"
"...That little shit."
"Not teasing. Just face reality."
His expression softened a bit. Abel smiled faintly.
"Yeah, you've always been that kind of guy."
"A compliment?"
"Take it however you want. Charging at demons head-on is both good and bad."
"Demons are the enemy."
"And you rush in recklessly, lose limbs, and Lea has to heal you. She's the only one suffering."
"Ugh..."
Rian was strong, but not wise. It had taken years of experience to hone his judgment. Back then, he was just a hotheaded kid swinging the holy sword, blinded by trauma and vengeance.
Abel found a suitably open space. He walked across the grass. The soft crunch of snow-dusted blades felt good underfoot. To others, it might look like casual strolling. But there were no gaps in his movements. No presence. Just the sound of grass. His footsteps were perfectly silenced.
"I'm about to set up the barrier now. I'll seal it strong so no one but us can enter. With a code only we know."
"A code only we know? Don't tell me..."
"Yeah. That blessing. Our proof, our driving force. The grace of the gods."
The blessing dwelled even in the souls and flesh of fallen heroes. Meaning it never vanished. The power source moving those soul-bound beings was blood. Just as a family's trait dwelled in the Mana Flower, the divine grace dwelled in mana. And in the human body, where vast mana pooled, blood was the obvious choice.
That's why criminal adventurer guilds hunted humans. To steal their mana for magitech. Using others' mana instead of their own allowed for more efficient research.
"So no matter how old we get, this blessing won't fade."
"Even in death."
"...They say the dead become angels."
"You believe that?"
"No proof, but I lean toward yes. Our heroes have a good shot at becoming angels in the end."
"Fair enough. Lea's already got wings."
The proxy of the gods, guide of heroes. The saintess Lea. Was her rapid growth due to strong faith?
Abel let out a hollow chuckle.
"So I'll wait."
"Wait for what?"
"Far in the future."
"What about it?"
"Even if all the fighting ends and we all set off on new journeys, I'll wait here."
Rowen felt it. The usually taciturn guy was talkative today. More than anything, he could feel deep in his heart how much Abel cherished them.
"...And if I'm not here, don't look for me."
Why? Rowen wondered silently. It wasn't an emotion he could voice outright.
Abel always kept a straight face. He got angry sometimes. Very rarely. But he'd never exuded such vicious killing intent before. At least not before their first meeting.
"Something more important than enjoying my later years will have come up. I won't drag you all down."
"Those bastards again?"
"Yeah..."
"Cut ties now. The shits who ruined your childhood."
"They were family once. I'll kill them with my own hands."
"...Fine. Whatever makes you comfortable."
"Take care of this place then. Even without me."
"Don't worry about it."
Far in the future. Truly far. When demons erased their traces from this world. If we win this war.
"Come visit often. Not just talk—really come."
"Yeah."
"...Don't leave this guy lonely."
"It's not just me. The others are here too. Relax."
"Like I said earlier, being together every day is normal now. But far in the future, it might not be."
Belzebub's spawn, the Demon King. Worms luring humans to corruption. The Four Heavenly Kings and legion commanders weren't the real threat. Above them loomed the Demon King, Belzebub.
"Demons infest this world. Magitech isn't the issue. Humanity's aiming at the wrong enemy."
Humans weren't the enemy. It was the whispering demons.
"Time's about up. I'll lay the barrier over this Albrin Forest. Make it so you can always come back."
"Decorating's not a bad idea. But who's doing it? You?"
Doesn't suit you.
"...I'm human too. I like flashy, pretty things. Not too gaudy, though. Sorry to Mio, but no sparkles."
If we lose? What happens to the barrier?
"We'll survive. We won't die."
"You said 'if' earlier."
"...If I die, cherish this place."
Rowen could feel how much Abel truly loved this forest. How many times had he asked to treasure it? It made his chest tighten even more.
A man bearing past sins, straying from corruption onto the hero's path. Could he endure to the end? Would he give up amid this endless war? Abandon everything? Rowen worried.
"...Albrin Forest is like my home."
He repeated it. Whatever memories this place held, Rowen felt bone-deep how precious it was to him.
"Dawn makes me chatty. Time to sleep."
"What about the unique barrier?"
"I'll make it quietly once you're asleep. Don't want the light waking you. I'll throw up a shadow veil too."
"Alright, night."
"Go to bed. Need to focus. You're distracting me now."
"Grumpy bastard."
Abel was gruff. But he smiled.
"Demons still lurk nearby."
"I know."
"Gonna fight?"
"Maybe."
Rian said that and drew his holy sword. He wasn't devout enough to truly believe in gods. He just carried his father's relic for revenge. But blessed by the divine, his mana held holy power. Sacred energy blazed fiercely along the blade.
Abel stopped him.
"Rian, you need sleep. You've been pushing too hard. Low on mana and forcing the holy sword? You're insane."
But I held out. Rian said.
"Yeah, you did it with your own power. You're amazing. That's why you lead us."
"I'm not leading."
Abel gathered violet mana. His family, Tarkhan, wielded shadows. Preparing the barrier, he chanted runes fluidly. Then said,
"No, you are. You're the one I chose. Strong and just."
In contrast,
"My hands are stained with blood. I took up the gods' will late, but the past doesn't change."
I'll atone my whole life. He thought.
"...I judged the wicked."
And yet,
"I executed the good and innocent too. I'm trash. But you're different. You seek revenge, but your sword hasn't twisted."
"Whether it's twisted or not is none of my business. Demons are bastards."
"Can't argue that."
"So kill 'em. That's the boring story."
"That's why I acknowledge you."
Abel, growing annoyed, veiled himself in shadow. Violet mana burst, spewing thick smoke. Like black ink in clear water. Irregular fumes formed in the air.
"Now sleep. Leave the rest to me."
"...Yeah. Night. Don't get hurt, or I won't care."
"Think low-level demons can touch me?"
"Hahaha, true."
Abel's form vanished, but he was surely smiling. Rian left his busy friend to the barrier work and headed to his sleeping comrades.
...A little. Abel looked tired. Rian wasn't idiot enough to miss him holding back exhaustion.
Thinking that, Rian fought dizziness and deliberately flared his holy power.
"Me, leading everyone..."
A faint smile played on his lips. He couldn't help but laugh.
Rian changed direction from his sleeping spot.
"Gotta repay that faith."
Red eyes. Killing intent. Rian wanted to rip out the disgusting demons' eyes.
"Little exercise before bed won't hurt."
*
Early dawn. While all slept. Rowen stood alone before the unique barrier.
"No presence, as expected."
Disappointment hit. No one had set foot here. Forgotten precisely a millennium ago. Even his comrades hadn't come. Well, Albrin Forest was near Snowfall, but vast. Sprawling. A week in, and he'd covered only half. If any comrade had visited, he'd have sensed it first. The barrier entrance opening.
Bittersweet feelings stirred. And yet, he missed them. A thousand years had passed. To him, it felt like just over sixteen years plus a few more. Long, yes, but nothing compared to a time when his comrades might still live.
"Do they know I reincarnated?"
He'd wondered as a child. Why was he reborn? Failed to become an angel? Lacking faith? Didn't fulfill his duty? Or Mio's doing? No answers came. Thinking didn't solve it. No complaints either. He'd gotten another chance. Belzebub was sealed by them, but his grudge lingered. Then, he felt infinite mana from his past life's regret. Magic all day without fatigue or exhaustion. A different body from before! Rowen was happy. Though his dogshit fate soured even that. This spot felt profoundly emotional now.
Rowen drew a dagger and slashed his right palm. Deep enough for blood to flow freely.
"Tch..."
Superior physique or not, pain was pain. Rowen condensed mana in his left hand, summoning violet energy. Like a shadow, it approached his face. Nostalgia washed over him. Tears nearly fell. Abel felt right there. Images of un met comrades surfaced too. His death meant he couldn't keep the promise with Abel.
"Sorry."
He wished for the day they'd all rest here together. That was Abel's dream. And he'd shattered it.
"Too late?"
Rowen smiled. Drip. Plop, splat! Blood hit the snow, staining white red—vividly.
The violet shadow. It absorbed the blood on the snow in an instant. Felt like his blood was being sucked directly. Like memories of a mid-tier vampire demon draining him.
Flash—!
Not flashy, but a modest light embraced him. Now he felt it. Brief contact, but Abel's trace lingered in the shadow. At least thirty years ago. When Kadan was still in Snowfall. Abel had visited this forest. He was still waiting for them all. Even without Rowen, for the others. The gruff one who cherished comrades more than anyone. The greatest assassin among them, the most adult. Abel Tarkhan wasn't here, but alive. He'd kept the promise. Alone, silently guarding this place. The memory-laden spot. The warm gathering place. 1000 years. Even through blizzard-like snows, Abel kept it.
"Really sorry."
He apologized. Apologized and apologized again.
"Couldn't keep the promise."
But.
"This one, I can keep now."
Abel's words echoed. 'Even without me, stay here. Don't let it get dirty.'
Now. He could keep it. The promise, and a safe haven for his new family.
"Abel, not sure if you'd recognize me now."
I really.
"I miss you all."
Emotion welled. His voice trembled; he didn't know why. But one thing was certain.
"I missed you."
Rowen couldn't stop the tears flowing unbidden. Empty place. Yet eternal flames lit the barrier interior. Photos of memories illuminated the walls. Cozy bedding neatly arranged. No dust despite time. Wine glasses suited Mio's tastes lined up. That's why tears came harder. Memories he didn't share. Their traces. Clipped photos of Rian. Sleeping. Mid-journey shots. Faces chased by goblin hordes. Short, long—all moments pinned to one wall corner.
"Damn guy..."
Tears fell, but not from sadness. Joy. After a millennium, they hadn't forgotten him. Remembered. Maintained this space. Reborn a northern bastard. The North was part of him now. Valenos meant that. Illegitimate or not, denied the name, his blood was pure Valenos. Fate? His comrades' sacred space became his. Even if Snowfall fell to Arkanthia, this place never would.
He wiped tears with fur, feeling frozen fur thaw slightly from warmth.
"Sorry I'm late."
Ah. Forgot. Not apologies now.
"That's right..."
Yeah. Not sorry. The words needed here were.
"I'm home."
No one there. But their traces, warmth, presence—more than enough. Saved. Losing fathers twice shocked him. He acted fine outwardly. But emotions wore thin. Tears wouldn't stop. No clue why suddenly.
"This shit's fucked up."
Not like me. He wanted to say. But crying was pure Rowen. So he sobbed. Their traces comforted him. Worn emotions healed fully. Rowen, Rian—strong body, weak heart. He spoke again. Smiling clearly. Might sound like dumb joke.
"Get this—funny story..."
Bittersweet. But happy.
"Hate this word, but..."
Rowen hated it. But felt them alive.
"You know, I got reborn as a bastard child?"