The Word "Death"
The word death. Elishea wiped her mouth and screamed at me.
"Don't come any closer!"
She recoiled in horror at my approaching footsteps, as if she'd seen a demon, reacting sensitively to even the slightest movement as she exhaled sharply.
"I said stay back..."
"..."
"You're not human."
"Pardon?"
"You're... not human."
I was taken aback by this fragile side of Elishea I'd never seen before. They said she was the softest-hearted among the Apostles, but she was still a pillar of the heretics. Her vulnerability only put me more on edge.
With a trembling voice, Elishea hurled a question at me. She seemed to have no intention of answering the doubts I held, backing away from me on shaking legs.
"Why."
"..."
"Why can you stand there so unscathed?"
"I don't know why, but..."
"You're rotten to the core with bad karma! Why... why are you still alive!!"
I had no ready answer for her aggressive question, so I clamped my mouth shut. It was absurd—asking someone alive and well why they were alive. Especially someone living happily.
"..."
An Apostle had asked directly, yet all I could do was steady my grip on my sword and regulate my breathing.
Two keywords had reached my ears: one was death. The other was someone who shouldn't be alive.
In the novel, Elishea excelled at piercing into people's inner selves, but she'd never spoken of "existence" like this before. Nor had she ever shown fear of a mere human. She hadn't even flinched before the Pope.
I had no idea how to react to this new side of her. One thing was certain, though: I wasn't a regressor.
Everything she said pointed to regression, but unfortunately, I was a possessor, not a regressor. And I had no desire for such a power anyway.
I shrugged off the unresolved mystery, deciding not to dwell on it. It was just the ravings of an Apostle spouting uncertainties. Probably the effect of my black magic resistance—or maybe mental magic resistance. I kept my eyes sharply on Elishea's movements.
"No..."
Elishea clutched her head, breathing raggedly.
"This can't be happening. I must have seen wrong..."
"..."
"Urgh..."
Elishea could see it in his eyes. The emotions visible only to those facing death.
The emptiness at execution. The injustice of dying in war. The regret of failing to protect a loved one.
And.
"Ugh... hack...! Hack...!"
The regrets and resentments of countless souls emanated from him.
Elishea reached out toward Ricardo. It repulsed and terrified her, but she had to peer into what those emotions meant.
—Splash!!
She thrust her hand out swiftly, but.
"Enough."
At the cold voice of the lion, she had no choice but to lower her hand.
Elishea drew a deep breath and met the eyes of the man glaring at her.
Regret in gray. Resentment in purple. And confidence in gold—they made him whole.
"...Hah."
Elishea clicked her tongue at Rowen. Seeing emotions that shone so brilliantly felt like it sullied her own colors.
"A false hero has appeared."
It disgusted her.
The earth trembled. Just the clash of their gazes whipped up winds across the entire mountain, sounding the alarm.
I scooped up the unconscious Shartia and Hanna and whispered softly.
"Time to bail."
I'd leave the rest to them.
*
Peace returned as the mountain vanished from the map. I laid the unconscious students in the village and let out a steady breath.
"Hoo... why is this guy so damn heavy?"
I sighed even deeper at Ruin in particular.
I nudged the foaming, passed-out Ruin's side with my foot and shook my head. He was supposed to be a sub-male lead, but seeing him reduced to spam like this was just pitiful.
Self-inflicted, sure, but his spectacular downfall stirred a twinge of sympathy.
"Loser."
"Wh-what?! Nooo, stay back!"
"Even his sleep-talking's loud."
I shook my head.
On the village bench sat the students who'd somewhat come to: Yuria, Mihail, Shartia, the crown prince, and others.
Hanna seemed in the best shape. She was the strongest and most mentally resilient among them.
I shot a wry glance at Hanna, who was giving a stiff report to Rowen.
"Should've just said I didn't know."
-Number of personnel departed: 24. No fatalities.
-Understood. Then...
I'd bullshitted to avoid getting tangled up, but seeing Hanna talk to Rowen now soured my mood.
She's impressive, though.
No matter how much she disliked Rowen, she kept work and personal matters strictly separate—that's when I thought of her as his little sister.
-That's all.
-...
-If you need details, you can check at the Academy later.
-Hanna.
-...
-Can you spare a moment?
-No, Count.
-...
This wasn't wrapping up easily.
I quietly moved to Shartia, who was breaking out in cold sweat.
"Princess."
"..."
"You went through quite the ordeal."
"Hah..."
"Are you alright?"
"..."
Shartia said nothing. She just ran a dry hand over her face, showing no interest in the advances of the world's handsomest man.
Awkward...
Maybe the first Apostle encounter had her mentally drained. As someone with experience, I knew a handsome man's comfort worked wonders in times like these, so I offered clumsy reassurance and sat beside her.
After all, I'd received the Young Lady's comfort myself.
-Eek! Ricardo, you almost died!
Nothing to learn from that, though.
"Sniff."
A true gentleman stays silent in such moments, so I shut my mouth and waited for Shartia to recover.
"Hoo."
About three minutes later, Shartia lifted her head with a deep sigh. She'd sorted her tangled thoughts quickly, breathing calmly as she took the water cup I offered and sipped carefully.
-Slurp.
"You."
"Yes."
"What the hell are you, really?"
Shartia eyed me with deep suspicion.
"You're always there when shit hits the fan... Do you see the future or have precognition or something?"
Her sharp intuition caught me off guard, and I scratched the back of my head with an awkward smile.
The student council president was the real deal.
Shartia sighed, her face etched with worry.
"No matter how I think about it, it's weird. This incident, the stuff at the Academy—it's all too suspicious."
"You could see it that way."
"Huh?"
"I'm just that capable, you know."
"...Don't joke."
I flashed an ambiguous smile, teasing her. Perceptive people get rattled by vague answers.
"Heh..."
I chuckled lightly, muddling her thoughts further.
"If I could see the future..."
Gulp...
"...wouldn't I stick around the Academy all the time?"
"Well... yeah."
Shartia nodded, her suspicions fizzling out anticlimactically. She stared at the rippling water in her cup and murmured.
"Thanks."
"..."
"Thanks for helping. Without you, we'd all be... dead."
"You could repay me with generous coin..."
"..."
"Kidding."
Shartia gripped the cup tightly, mumbling through clenched teeth in frustration.
"This one's on me. I couldn't make the right call and stupidly tried to handle it with our strength alone."
"True enough."
I nodded, offering a small affirmation, then some light comfort.
"But anyone would've done the same in that spot."
"Huh?"
"This wasn't something you could think your way out of—it was a long-planned scheme. Sorting it out back home won't be easy, but hey, we got some gains."
I raised my cup toward where the church had stood.
"Not a bad ending."
"You... really."
I stood with a meaningful smile, hands coolly in my pockets as I walked off.
"Think what you— whoa!"
I nearly tripped over a rock.
"Pfft..."
Shartia let out a hollow laugh and shook her head. Watching my nonchalant retreating figure as I muttered 'I've lost my mind', she sighed softly.
"Thanks."
I waved it off and kept walking, checking on Mihail's condition.
-Are you alright?
-How did you...!
-Missed you.
Not her, of course.
-...
I soothed Yuria's ragged breathing too.
-Hah... hah... Ricardo!
-Whoa, aren't you clinging a bit much? Your chest is...
-Thank god... thank god!!
-Feels nice, though.
I walked on for a while. And then.
"...Butler."
I saw Hanna with a heavy expression. She looked lost in thought—overwhelmed by Rowen's sheer power, feeling the vast gap, yet grateful for his aid.
It'd be weirder if her mind wasn't a mess.
The flower of swordsmen, the goal all swordsmen aspired to. She'd boasted she'd surpass him alone, and now doubt crept in.
I smiled faintly and met her eyes.
"Why'd you call?"
"I..."
Hanna clenched her fists and bowed her head.
"I think I overheard something I shouldn't have."
"Pardon? What do you—"
"Butler."
Hanna looked me straight in the eye.
"Are you married?"
"...?"
"That woman said it. Something about tangled fates."
"?"
Her words left question marks swirling over my head, and I let out a baffled laugh.
"Never even dated, let alone divorced."
"Huh?"
"For real."
"Oh... right?"
Hanna stared holes through me, snorting.
"For real?!"
"Yes."
"You're not moping over something that trivial, are you?"
"...Not trivial. But hey, now there's someone to convince."
"Huh?"
"Nothing."
"What?"
Hanna and I burst into laughter, chatting away.
And.
Hanna thought to herself.
How many times has he died...?
The word death.