The Scent of Death
Chloe radiated a vicious killing intent. Just moments ago, she had seemed to obediently follow Saren's words. Well, that made sense. Who wouldn't be furious after getting their leg impaled? Honestly, whether those two fought or not didn't matter to me. If they beat each other bloody and one of them died, it had nothing to do with me. Still, I wished they'd at least heal me or kill me first before starting their brawl. For some reason, it felt like my existence had completely vanished from their minds.
Chloe, I could understand, but Saren? Shouldn't she at least care about me?
Chloe's irritated sigh reached my ears. Those weren't exactly the words you'd expect from a saintess.
She gritted her teeth and slowly moved her body. The long blade embedded in Chloe's thigh sliced deeper into her leg with the motion. Crunch. Crunch. The sound of bone being shaved away echoed through the air. Meanwhile, Chloe—whether she found something funny or not—had veins bulging on her face while the corners of her mouth twisted upward in a grin.
Even Saren sounded genuinely baffled by the sight.
Chloe shouted loudly and lunged at Saren. Slash—! Saren swung her sword in a wide arc with an eerily calm expression, showing no sign of surprise. But strangely, not a single drop of blood spilled from Chloe's thigh. The moment the flesh was severed, golden light bloomed within the gaping wound, and her leg reattached itself in an instant.
Chloe struck a pose as if grasping something in midair. Immediately, a massive hammer materialized in her grip.
Boom—! With a short battle cry, she brought the hammer crashing down on Saren with all her might.
The heavy impact sent a fresh wave of burning pain through my wound. Blood poured out like a waterfall. My body began to tremble uncontrollably, and my consciousness grew increasingly faint.
In that hazy vision, Saren and Chloe clashed their weapons fiercely beneath the moonlight. Saren remained utterly expressionless, while Chloe grinned with what looked like pure ecstasy. Every collision sent the metallic clang ringing through my skull—Clang! Boom!—shaking my brain with each impact.
"Sa... S... ren..."
My mouth called out to Saren of its own accord. The problem was that this wasn't my will. Earlier, she'd claimed she was a young lady who couldn't fight well—what if Chloe overpowered her? Why was such a useless worry crossing my mind as I lay dying? This life was already a complete failure in terms of story progression anyway, so whether Saren lived or died shouldn't concern me.
It felt as if... Serion's body was constantly pushing me to protect her.
"Sa..."
But even though I wanted to call her, no more words would come. For some reason, my lips felt as heavy as lead. Soon, my head drooped limply downward. I no longer had the strength to hold it up. Even my right arm, which had been hanging from my shoulder, fell to the ground with a dull thud.
None of this was by my will either. Which meant my body had begun the process of dying on its own.
This death could only be described as utterly unpleasant. Who knew a slow, drawn-out death could feel this awful? It would have been far more comforting to die instantly. Come to think of it, it was rather funny. How could I have died four times without once seeing my life flash before my eyes? I'd lived what I thought was a rather spectacular life, after all.
I'd heard somewhere that a life review was the brain's way of desperately searching for a way to survive by rapidly recalling past experiences. Did my brain simply not think I was worth saving?
"Haa... haa..."
As if my body were protesting that it had reached its limit, the ragged breaths leaking from my throat grew thinner and thinner. My heavy eyelids slowly closed, and even the sounds of the two fighting faded into the distance.
Just before all my senses shut down completely...
A low, gentle, familiar voice brushed clearly against my ear.
And then a warm touch gently cradled my face.
"Vi... Vi..."
Ah, was this the life review after all? It felt like that time in my previous life, when I had been held in Vivian's arms beneath the tree. I'd been searching for a way to survive, yet my brain chose to recall the moment I was embraced by a woman. There had to be something wrong with it. Well, no matter what I remembered, death was death, so it didn't really matter.
Still, thinking of something like this made the corners of my mouth lift slightly. A rather satisfying ending, I supposed.
"Haa..."
In that warm embrace, I quietly—very quietly—closed my heavy eyelids, promising myself the next life.
. . .
"Huk—!!"
I gasped sharply, my eyes flying open. For a moment, my thoughts froze.
"......?"
It should have been pitch-black darkness, yet instead, an unfamiliar wooden ceiling came into view. I didn't have the strength to turn my head, so I rolled my eyes as far as they would go. The more I tried, the blurrier my vision became, yielding no useful information. All I could sense was a musty, dusty smell piercing my nose.
"Sy... Sys... tem..."
I tried to call for the system, but my voice came out so hoarse it barely made a sound. The more I tried to speak, the drier and more painful my throat became. This was the first time I'd seen a scene like this after dying. I was utterly confused about what was happening.
Five minutes passed. Then another ten. No matter how long I waited, the familiar 'ding—!' sound never came. Something was wrong. Something had definitely gone terribly wrong. If only I could figure out where this place was or what condition I was in. The fact that my body refused to move only amplified the fear.
Had I not actually died? No, that couldn't be. There was no way I could have survived in that state.
"Haa... haa..."
Then had the regression finally ended? Had I returned to reality at last? Was this a hospital? But why was no one here? Where were my mother and father? Where were the nurses?
But that spark of hope vanished like dust the moment my white hair drifted across my vision. It was as if it were deliberately blocking my sight to show me. This too felt foreign. After all, my original hair hadn't been long enough to fall into my eyes like this.
Which meant I was still inside the game world. But then why was the system silent? What was my current condition? What about Saren? Vivian? Chloe?
"Haa...! Kugh... haauk...!"
This was bad. My thoughts spiraled, and my breathing became dangerously irregular. It was extreme terror. The fear born from ignorance had begun to devour my mind. Please, anyone—just let one person appear before me. Saren, Vivian, Chloe. Or even the knight who had executed me. Or anyone from the crowd who had thrown stones at me. Anyone at all.
Clatter—!
Along with a dull sound came a familiar voice. It was unmistakably Vivian. She rushed to my side and pulled my head tightly into her embrace.
"Vi... Vi...!"
Her voice whispered softly as she gently stroked my hair, and my frantic breathing gradually calmed. The spinning world before my eyes slowly came back into focus.
"Haa... haa..."
Only now did my mind return enough to fully feel her embrace. Perhaps it was because of her familiar scent and familiar touch. The extreme terror that had gripped me melted away like snow in an instant.
"Vi... vian..."
She gently lowered my head and lifted her gaze to meet mine.
But something about her appearance seemed off. She wasn't wearing her usual maid uniform. Instead, she wore a loose-fitting top made of pale brown linen and a drooping skirt. The clothes were deeply stained with what looked like a mixture of sweat and dirt, and the seams had come loose from heavy wear. Her golden hair, usually neatly tied up, now cascaded freely down her chest. Most strikingly, half her face was wrapped tightly in bandages. For some reason, only one of her once-beautiful blue eyes remained, gazing at me.
"Are you... hurt somewhere?"
"Why am I..."
My words trailed off naturally. At the same time, fragments of my previous memories flashed through my mind. In particular, the image of Vivian collapsing with one eye crushed burned brightly in my thoughts.
......Could it be that I hadn't died back then? Was this still an extension of that same life?
"Vi... Vivian..."
"Saren."
Vivian's body jolted violently as she poured the water. The stream from the pitcher missed the cup and soaked the blanket.
"Where is Saren?"
"......"
Vivian's lips pressed tightly together. The way those red lips trembled ignited a spark of anxiety in my heart.
Only then did Vivian meet my eyes. Her voice carried a heavy weight as she answered.
She stopped there, biting down hard on her lip. My eyes twitched beneath them.
"......"
That anxiety had become reality.