Chapter 1: To That Place
Chapter 1: To That Place
Tick... tock.
I lie on the cold floor of the deepest cell in a dungeon where not a single sliver of sunlight reaches. I cannot feel the passage of time. I have no way of knowing if it is day or night, yesterday or today.
Thump.
Heavy, resonant footsteps approach. The rhythmic click of military boots—familiar, yet strange.
A voice, sharp as a blade, cuts through the air.
"It’s already been a year."
His silhouette beyond the iron bars was as solid as ever.
Edmond Brwindol. Once a fellow knight, he had eventually become one of the Empire’s most formidable enemies. Now, he stood before me as a member of the New Cabinet.
I asked him, "How is it outside? Is the weather okay?"
"More than okay. Every day is golden."
His voice overflowed with confidence. Edmond had always been like that, but today he seemed particularly fulfilled.
"Oh? Getting married, too?"
"I’ve been quite busy with public and private affairs. I think it’ll be soon, though."
When Edmond spoke to me, traces of his old mannerisms still slipped out. It was that characteristic way of speaking—acting as if the difference in our status was uncomfortable, yet appearing somewhat pitying.
I gave him a playful smirk.
"Congratulations."
"......There’s no need for that."
Thirty-five. At that mere age, he had succeeded in toppling the Empire.
My father, who had been a high-ranking official of the Empire, was 'righteously' executed, his head hung in the center of the capital. I was captured after years of running.
No matter how misguided one's beliefs may be, those who remain loyal for a lifetime are usually respected. However, a loser like me, who was caught after fleeing until the very end, is only covered in disgrace and filth.
The only reason I was even drawing breath was solely due to Edmond’s lingering affection.
"Maximilian. Stay here in the depths and watch. Watch how we, who tore down the Empire, take flight."
His voice was full of hope.
"Oh? Watch? I thought this was an execution."
"It’s better to keep you alive. Your father was a pillar of the Empire, so he had to be broken, but you are nothing more than a piece of tarnished jewelry. You make for a suitable trophy."
A trophy. I chewed on the word. A living trophy. Honestly? It sounded kind of cool.
"Thanks. For letting me live."
I meant it, in my own way.
Edmond gave a faint smile and turned away. He climbed the stairs, leaving me behind in the dark.
His voice echoed hollowly.
"Farewell, Max. I’ll visit when I have the time."
Maximilian von Ebenholtz.
It was a name foolishly discarded. My life had rotted away behind my father’s shadow.
All I knew how to do was swing a sword a little and make a show of handling mana.
But thanks to that ignorance, I had survived. In a way, I could say I was the winner among my family.
Tick... tock.
How much time had passed? The bars opened again, and Edmond appeared. A few more wrinkles were etched into his face.
It was only his second visit, but it seemed quite a bit of time had gone by.
Living in confinement made the flow of time feel alien.
"......Oh, Edmond."
I raised a hand to him.
"Yeah."
"How many years has it been? The guards won't tell me a damn thing."
Edmond stared at me for a moment.
"Three years."
"A lot of time has passed. Is it different outside?"
"......It is."
He said it was definitely different. However, his voice was laced with a subtle fatigue instead of his previous confidence.
"Three years... then you must be married. You probably have a kid by now?"
"......"
Edmond looked at me in silence. His eyes, which should have been designing a brilliant future after the Empire, were shadowed.
"I postponed the wedding. I was busy."
"When were you ever not busy? Did you get dumped?"
At my mischievous joke, the corner of Edmond’s mouth twitched. He looked like he was forcing himself to suppress a laugh.
"You haven't changed."
Somewhere along the way, his way of addressing me had shifted from the informal 'you' to a more respectful 'friend.'
Was it a subtle distance, or was it respect?
"Ah~ I get it now. You’ve finally learned how scary the political world is, haven't you? The revolution was a success, but the aftermath is a headache, right?"
"......"
Edmond let out a sigh instead of answering.
"It’s more complicated than I thought. Still...... it’s likely just the process of change."
It was as if he were seeking advice from me. But as a prisoner in a dungeon, I had no words to give him.
"......Who are you even asking, anyway?"
Edmond nodded quietly and turned around. I noticed the sword was no longer at his waist.
He, who had been a candidate for the greatest swordsman in the Empire, had laid down his blade.
It seemed the world was changing in that direction.
Tick... tock.
I opened my eyes.
Thump.
The footsteps returned. This time, they were slower and heavier.
"......Has it been ten years?"
Edmond approached me, muttering to himself. A small light on the wall illuminated him. I nearly fainted when I saw the state of his hair.
"Edmond, where did your hair go?!"
"My hair?"
"Yeah! Did the rats eat it?! Oh, man."
His once-thick black hair was half gone, leaving the crown of his head bare, and the remaining strands were dusted with white frost. The wrinkles on his face had deepened so much he looked like he had aged decades.
"Hair isn't important."
"Every man I knew who lost his hair said the exact same thing."
"......You’re the same. It’s almost miraculous how you haven't changed."
Instead of anger, he showed pure wonder. Or perhaps, he looked as if he were witnessing an incomprehensible phenomenon.
"Your appearance, your voice, everything......"
"Really? Maybe it's because I don't get any sun."
Edmond pulled up a chair and sat down. He was dressed in the full attire of a politician.
I asked him, "Is it different outside?"
"......"
He remained silent. The flickering oil lamp on the wall cast shadows over his exhausted face.
"It will change...... No, I have to make it change."
His face was one that had accepted reality, bordering on resignation.
"Politics must be tough. Seeing as your face has changed more dramatically than the world has."
Pfft. Edmond laughed as he looked at me. The small leak of laughter soon spread into a broad grin.
"Hahaha. Right...... right. I suppose so."
"They say people mellow out as they get older, and I guess it's true. You look like you’ve been beat up by thirty years of time. Where did the heavy-handed knight go? Why is there a decrepit old fox sitting here instead?"
"......Who knows. He’s probably rusting away somewhere."
Edmond smiled with a short sigh.
"......Maximilian."
He called my name for the first time. Back in the day, all my friends used to call me Max.
It was a bit awkward, but not bad.
"Is it different in here?"
He asked. I shrugged.
"Well, I’ve just been training inside. I’m completely cut off from the world."
"Is training even possible? In an environment like this?"
"Do you think it would be?"
Khahaha! Edmond laughed loudly, and I laughed along with him. The laughter that burst out soon filled the entire prison.
"Edmond."
As the laughter died down, I nodded.
"It’ll change. The world outside."
"......"
Edmond’s expression stiffened for a moment.
"Because the outside world has someone like you."
I looked him straight in the eye.
"A commoner far more valuable than a half-baked noble like me."
His eyebrows curved sadly.
I never expected to see the frailty of a withered politician in Edmond.
"My father used to say it. 'Edmond is a fellow far more valuable than most of the Empire’s nobles.'"
"Duke Zebestian, that great old man."
Edmond picked up my words.
"I still think of him sometimes. How he cut down over a dozen of the Revolutionary Group's elite single-handedly......"
His sentence stopped unnaturally. He quietly lifted his gaze, as if checking my reaction.
"It’s fine. He’s already dead. He’s not a father I particularly want to remember, anyway."
I spoke calmly. My father was the epitome of an imperialist. He was at the forefront of racial discrimination, segregation, and the glory of the Empire—and I had completely failed to meet his expectations.
"Then...... Ah. I’m out of time."
Edmond stood up. This visit felt exceptionally short.
"You’re leaving?"
"......Yes."
Edmond gave me a faint smile.
"Next time I come, I truly want to give you your freedom."
Edmond limped up the stairs. Instead of a sword, he now gripped a cane.
Tick... tock.
Tick... tock.
Tick... tock.
The rhythmic sound of this clock wakes me.
At some point, it became a hallucination that always flickered deep within me.
A fluctuation of the second hand that seemed to swallow all the noise of the prison and knock on my inner self.
Tick... tock.
When I opened my eyes in the darkness, I saw a faint shadow beyond the bars.
"Edmond......?"
I struggled to see his face. To say he had simply aged was an understatement; he had changed too much. He had become an old man, looking as if he had carried the world's suffering for a long time.
"Max."
He pulled a chair over and leaned against it heavily, as if collapsing into it. He looked far more frail than during his last visit.
I asked him, "How many years has it been?"
"......Twenty years."
His raspy voice was barely a whisper.
"But you are the same. You are still...... almost exactly as you were when you were first locked in here."
A mix of disbelief, shock, and deep sorrow flowed from him.
"No way. I must have aged too."
I raised my hand and felt my face. My senses were dull, so I couldn't tell much.
I asked him the question I always did.
"Edmond. How is it outside?"
"......"
Edmond didn't answer for a long time. His silence carried a heavy weight.
"Max. Lately, I’ve been thinking."
His voice cracked. It was precarious, like a cracked glass.
"Perhaps, perhaps if the Empire had lasted longer, if we hadn't toppled it... then maybe humanity...... might have endured a little longer."
Humanity.
I furrowed my brow. That was too heavy a word for a withered politician to utter.
"What do you mean by that?"
"The Izenheim race. Do you remember them?"
Izenheim. They were one of the many minority races the Empire had persecuted.
"I know them. Why?"
"The Empire was right. The Empire defined them as a breed of devils and strictly segregated them. We...... we viewed them as subjects to be liberated and protected."
Suddenly, his face contorted with despair. Deep regret and self-loathing surged forth.
"But the Izenheim...... they were the calamity. They weren't human. Those damn bastards ruined the world."
"What?"
The Empire had discriminated against minority races. They treated them not as humans, but as a sub-species. The basis wasn't scientific or mana-related. It was a policy akin to a witch hunt, claiming they were descendants of devils.
"What are you talking about......"
Edmond bowed his head deeply. His shoulders trembled thinly.
"I’m sorry."
"Tell me more."
"......The Izenheim. They were an alien species that eats worlds. They weren't human to begin with. Those underground cities they dug. Remember? We thought they gathered there to live, but it was to develop dimensional gates. We were deceived by those devils."
I asked back blankly, "......Excuse me?"
Did he read the wrong novel somewhere?
Edmond gave a bitter smile. His complexion was already as sallow as a corpse.
"Under the Republic, they showed their true colors. Through repeated research, they finally summoned the alien race. I’m sorry. If it had been the Empire, they would have pressured and crushed them to the end, but we couldn't. We couldn't betray the cause we built. We only attempted war at the very end, but......"
He shed tears as he looked at me. I found myself asking, "Did you get totally wrecked?"
"......With the help of the Yaken Race, we held our own for a bit at first."
"The Yaken?"
"Yes. They had the power to oppose the dimension eaters. But there were limits, and as a last resort, we tried a Mana Core Bomb, but..."
Edmond shook his head.
"It didn't work. We—humanity—have been utterly defeated. I’m sorry."
"......"
I still didn't understand, but Edmond had broken down.
I had no choice but to believe the words of a broken man.
"No, no. You don't need to apologize to me. No wonder the food hasn't been coming down lately. Did the guards all run away?"
For the past few days, not even a sip of water had come in, let alone a meal.
Yes, a few days.
To my perception, it had only been 'a few days.'
"......That’s what’s strange."
Edmond’s deeply wrinkled eyes peered into mine.
"This dungeon was recorded as closed and lost seven years ago. So I naturally assumed you were dead. I didn't even consider the possibility that you were alive."
The old man who used to be Edmond stopped speaking with difficulty. He seemed to be in a lot of pain.
"Just in case, just in the slightest hope, I managed to find my way in. But you really are...... Are you my hallucination? Created by my guilt?"
"Are you crazy?"
"......Ha."
At my blunt response, Edmond let out a hollow laugh.
"Max. It seems you were born with some talent that even you don't know about. There’s no other way to explain this unrealistic situation."
"Me?"
Edmond fumbled in his robes. His skeletal fingers trembled as he dropped a rusted key.
Clang. Clang. The key bounced a couple of times and slid inside the bars.
Rumble!
A vibration shook the ceiling above. Edmond looked up.
"......I must be going now. To accept the end I deserve."
He slowly turned his back. His frail figure began to move away from me.
"Edmond."
I called out to the departing man.
"I never hated you. Not once."
"......"
He said nothing. He simply climbed the stairs with a faint smile. His slow silhouette was soon swallowed by the darkness and vanished.
I picked up the key and opened the iron bars.
Thud.
The rusted latch that had kept me imprisoned for twenty years finally opened. I followed the narrow passage and climbed the stairs. I chased after Edmond.
And there—
I discovered a ruined world.
"......What the hell."
The entire world was ash. Buildings had collapsed, leaving only skeletal frames, and traces of humans remained as scorched shadows here and there.
The dungeon was directly beneath the Imperial Royal Residence.
In other words, this was the capital. One of the world's leading metropolises had been utterly devastated.
I found scraps of paper scattered on the desolate asphalt. The engraved letters came clearly into view.
[Mana Bomb Failure]
[Prepare for the End]
[Izenheim, They Eat Dimensions]
[......Sentinel Knights Defeated]
[Summoning Ritual Performed......]
[Mana Collapsing.]
The things Edmond had said were recorded as reality. I stared blankly at the combination of words and muttered, "What on earth did these idiots do?"
Suddenly, I felt a chilling presence. I spun around.
There was a grotesque creature.
A monster with no eyes, nose, or mouth—a form barely held together without a clear outline. It looked like a scouring pad, or perhaps just a floating mass of slime in the air, but the 'mouth' attached to its maw opened wide to bite my face.
Tick... tock.
No, at the moment it tried to bite, everything stopped.
I don't know if I stopped or if the world stopped, but—
Tick... tock.
The sound of the second hand that had been ringing in my heart since some time ago echoed loudly.
It wasn't a simple hallucination.
Tick... tock.
The world began to reverse. The creature retreated, the collapsed city knit itself back together, and the fallen buildings rose from the rubble.
The days I had lived through flashed back rapidly, like a film rewinding.
My meetings with Edmond, the time in the dungeon, my father’s execution, the fall of the Empire—at the end of all that rewinding......
Tick.
There I was. Twenty years old.