A Gift from the Dying
Our connection had lasted barely a year.
Yet, amidst the flames of a war ravaging the continent, even affection—something that seemed utterly impossible to take root—managed to blossom.
"I hear you're quite handy with a sword."
My first meeting with Lunia Erahan von Benheim began just like that.
"The wandering mercenary, Raygan. The natural enemy of mages. People call you the 'Sword God,' don't they?"
Lunia von Benheim had apparently caught wind of the rumors surrounding a certain mercenary known as the Sword God.
Needless to say, that mercenary was me.
At the time, I was scraping by as a mercenary on the battlefield.
I hadn't joined the war for some grand, noble purpose.
I had simply started my mercenary life with a single sword technique I picked up in the back alleys, only to discover I had a knack for it.
Perhaps because I was born with nothing, I was quick to learn.
The Sword God. It was a moniker I had earned along the way, simply from swinging my blade to survive the war that had broken out.
"Sword God? It's nothing special."
"Oh, please. As you well know, Raygan, it's practically a crime for a Sword Master-level powerhouse to remain unaffiliated in a crisis like this."
"What are you getting at?"
"It's a bit late for introductions, but I am Lunia Erahan von Benheim. The heir to the House of Benheim. Though that title doesn't mean much now that my family has fallen."
Lunia, the last remaining bloodline of Benheim, extended her hand to me. Her goal was to recruit me.
"I want to formally hire you, Raygan. I'll pay you handsomely. I still have some funds left from liquidating my family's heirlooms."
"What business does a noble lady of Benheim have on a battlefield like this?"
"It's because I am a lady of Benheim that I have business here. I intend to kill him—the Archduke of Demonic Magic, the one who started this war and brought ruin to my family."
The Archduke of Demonic Magic.
He was the mastermind who had plunged the continent into war, a man who had broken through to the 8th tier in a mortal body, bringing him closest to the realm of the gods. By crushing several prestigious magic families and stealing their secret arts, he was now on the verge of reaching the 9th tier.
Lunia Erahan von Benheim, the second daughter of the House of Benheim—once one of the five great magic families before it was utterly ruined by the war—had apparently thrown herself onto the battlefield solely to avenge her family by slaying the Archduke.
A fierce, burning rage dwelt in her eyes.
Even for me, a wandering mercenary who had constantly danced on the edge of death, the sheer weight of the emotion in Lunia's eyes was difficult to bear.
"...Payment is upfront."
"Of course."
Though I had no desire to play along with a greenhorn's game of revenge, the reward Lunia offered was sweet.
For a mercenary who had lost his employer to the war, the resistance led by Lunia was a highly attractive final destination.
"Now, let's shake on it."
"Is this really necessary?"
"It is to me."
Reluctantly, I took Lunia's hand.
It wasn't the soft, delicate hand of a typical noblewoman, but a rough one, calloused from hardship. It told the story of just how grueling her life had been.
"I'm counting on you. Let's do our best to end this war."
"...Sure."
And so, I joined the continental resistance led by Lunia von Benheim.
The resistance was formidable in size, and its members were exceptionally skilled.
Though our relationship had started as a simple business transaction, as I spent more time with Lunia, I began to feel a sense of belonging.
It was a feeling I hadn't experienced in a long time as a wandering mercenary with no place to call home.
Together, we traversed the continent, clashing with the forces of the Archduke of Demonic Magic.
Our achievements were quite remarkable.
Since the Imperial Court was still standing at the time, we looked to the future with optimism.
We held onto the hope that no matter how powerful the Archduke was, the war would soon come to an end.
But a year later, our hopes were shattered into pieces.
The Imperial Court fell.
And in the aftermath, we were defeated.
I sprinted through the dense forest.
In my arms, I carried Lunia, whose leg was badly injured. Her face was deathly pale, her lips trembling as she tightly clutched a pendant in her hand.
The end of our long battle was devastating.
The resistance had been annihilated.
"It's all because of me. Because I wasn't strong enough..."
"Don't blame yourself. This wasn't a gap in strength that any single person could overcome."
It was the cold truth.
Before the Archduke's army, Lunia's resistance was nothing more than a speck of dust.
With a staggering disparity in both quantity and quality, and our supply lines completely severed, not even the God of War himself could have turned the tide.
"For now, we escape and plan our next move. If we head to the Great Southern Forest, there will be plenty of places to hide—"
As I spoke, Lunia gently slipped out of my embrace.
When I turned around, she was standing on her own, a bitter smile playing on her lips.
"I'm staying here."
"What?"
"This place is perfect. If I block the narrow pass of the canyon and drag them into a battle of attrition, you'll be able to make it out alive, Raygan."
"...Are you planning to die?"
"We're just remnants of a defeated army anyway. The resistance has scattered, and only the two of us are left. If that's the case, shouldn't at least the one with working legs survive? Besides, I don't intend to die quietly. I will kill the Archduke of Demonic Magic. That is the final duty left to me."
Lunia laughed, a desperate, hollow sound.
That smile was strangely irritating.
Her detached, world-weary attitude rubbed me the wrong way.
And so, I made my decision.
"I'm staying too."
"...What?"
Lunia's eyes widened, completely caught off guard by my response.
"I don't have any more money to pay you, Raygan."
"I'm not staying for the money."
I was well aware of my own folly.
My cold, calculating mercenary instincts screamed at me to run.
But as they say, while reason draws conclusions, emotion drives action.
"If you die, the future of this continent is finished. If that's the case, I'd rather bet my life on a slim chance of victory. Even if we fail, at least we'll leave our names in some corner of the history books."
With the Imperial Court gone, Lunia was the only archmage capable of opposing the Archduke. If she died, there would be no one left on this continent to stop him.
Besides, it wasn't as if the Archduke, having conquered the continent, would let a wandering mercenary who led the resistance live.
Rather than surviving like a dog only to be hunted down later, a true gambler would want to land one final blow.
Of course, I was no gambler.
Lunia let out a soft chuckle.
"That's so unlike you."
"Tell me about it. I must have been rubbed off on by someone over the past year."
"Still, I will pay you."
"Didn't you just say you were broke?"
"Yes, I did. Which is why I plan to pay you in a different way."
Lunia stepped closer, slowly taking my hand. She then pulled our joined hands up to her chest.
"Take me."
"...Are you serious?"
"I don't lie. And when a lady musters up this much courage, isn't it polite to hold her instead of questioning her?"
Lunia winked playfully. She then gestured with her chin toward a small cabin sitting by the path.
"That cabin looks nice. We should have about a day's grace. It's rustic, but wouldn't it be enough to mark our final night?"
Led by Lunia, I entered the cabin.
Sheltered inside, we savored our one-night reprieve—a night that felt both fleetingly short and infinitely long.
"Did you know?"
"Know what?"
"I was actually never meant to become the head of the family."
During those hours, I listened to Lunia share all sorts of stories.
Most of them were about her past. It made sense, given that my own history was nothing to write home about.
I listened to her childhood memories of being raised like a precious jewel in the House of Benheim, the political friction among the five great magic families, and how the Archduke of Demonic Magic had raised his armies.
"I was a massive troublemaker when I was little. Even by Benheim standards, I was exceptional. I gave my father so many gray hairs."
"I can picture that."
"Haha. Is that how you're going to play it?"
Our conversation flowed endlessly.
With the final battle looming, it was only natural to grow sentimental.
I stayed by Lunia's side, keeping her company through the night.
As dawn drew near, Lunia pulled a pendant from her shirt.
It was the very pendant she had clutched so desperately during our retreat.
"Here, take this."
"...Isn't that precious to you?"
"Yes. It's the final payment I can offer you, Raygan. It's an heirloom artifact passed down through generations in my family. In other words, this pendant represents the head of the House of Benheim."
"Is it really alright to give something so important to me?"
"Since you have me, you have Benheim. Therefore, the symbol of the patriarch is yours as well. See this? Engraved on this pendant is the final rune, one that no one has ever been able to decipher."
Just as she said, a distinct geometric pattern was etched onto the central ring of the pendant.
Instinctively, I understood that this pattern was not much different from the structure of the Rune Magic she usually cast.
"If you survive this war, Raygan, please rebuild the House of Benheim. Decipher this rune and reveal it to the world."
"I'm not a mage. I'm just a swordsman."
"It's fine. You have far more magical talent than you think, Raygan. More than someone like me, even. If you had studied magic instead of the sword, you would have achieved greatness."
I couldn't bring myself to smile.
Because I saw right through the hidden meaning behind her words.
"...That sounds like you don't expect to survive. No matter how I look at it, you're handing me a keepsake of the deceased."
"My, how sharp of you. If you noticed, the polite thing to do would be to accept it without a word."
"...I'm sorry."
Reluctantly accepting the pendant, I spoke.
"I'll make sure to return it to you."
"...I hope so."
Lunia offered a hopeful reply.
But in the end, her hope was never realized.
In the battle that took place the very next day, Lunia's chest was pierced by the Archduke's magic.
"Magnificent, last bloodline of Benheim."
The Archduke of Demonic Magic marveled as he looked down at Lunia, who was on her knees, coughing up blood.
"Astonishing. Truly astonishing. To think that the House of Benheim would produce an archmage who surpassed the 8th tier. It is a pity that I must slay such talent with my own hands."
The Archduke was saying something, but I wasn't listening. My eyes were fixed entirely on Lunia, who now had a gaping hole in her chest.
The crimson blood spilling from her lips, her trembling eyelashes, and her limp, pale hands told the story.
It was an undeniably fatal wound.
At that moment, Lunia turned her head. Her amethyst eyes, clouded with the shadow of death, found me. With her lungs pierced, she couldn't even squeeze out a whisper. She could only offer a tragic, desperate smile.
As if telling me to run.
As if pleading with me to survive by any means necessary and fulfill her final wish.
"Stupid greenhorn..."
Who did she think she was lecturing?
I drew my sword and charged. If running away only meant a slow, miserable death, I would at least take an arm from the detestable bastard who had stolen her life.
"Who are you? Are you that girl's companion?"
"...No. I'm her employee."
"Bound by gold, then. In that case, you must value your life. Turn back and run. I might just let you live."
The Archduke babbled on as he pleased.
He spread his arms wide, a mocking sneer on his face.
"What do you say? If you preserve your life and flee, perhaps you will have another chance to kill me in the future."
I stopped listening to him.
Deep down, I already knew.
Without Lunia, surviving wouldn't truly be living.
In my brief existence, I would never find another bond as precious as the one I had lost.
"Shut up!"
I swung my sword in a trance.
It was the culmination of every martial art I had ever mastered.
For a fleeting second, admiration flashed across the Archduke's face.
"A Sword Master at your age... They say heroes rise in times of chaos, and while you may not match the daughter of Benheim, your realm is indeed impressive. But what a pity. You can never defeat me."
The Archduke unleashed a dark red spear of magic.
The silent, flying spell carried a malevolent energy. I poured every ounce of my aura into my blade and swung.
Slash.
My sword sliced clean through the Archduke's magic.
"...What?"
For the first time, the Archduke showed genuine shock.
He was utterly stunned that my blade had cleaved his spell in two.
"Incredible... You cut through my magic? Are you a mage?"
The Archduke muttered to himself, then shook his head.
"No, that's not it. Fascinating. A talent I've never seen or heard of before. I suppose I must take back my previous offer. I cannot let you live. You are far more dangerous than that girl."
"I told you to shut up!"
I gritted my teeth and charged. But the moment the Archduke unleashed his magic in earnest, my desperate struggle became nothing more than a futile thrashing.
While the Archduke's magic reached the heavens, my martial talent fell short. I poured the very essence of my life force into the clash, but far from taking him down with me, I only managed to leave a long, jagged scar across his face.
Before long, drenched in blood, I drove my sword into the ground to prop myself up as my consciousness began to fade.
"...How pathetic."
My life had been wretched, and its end was equally hollow.
I placed my hand over Lunia's cold corpse lying at my feet. Her face was so smeared with blood that she was barely recognizable.
Soon, my vision began to distort.
The Archduke chanted a spell. A grand magic of unfathomable depth surged forward, crushing my body alongside Lunia's corpse.
And that was how we met our end.
For the last heir of Benheim and the mercenary dubbed the Sword God, it was a terribly hollow demise.
Yes.
I had met a hollow death.
I was absolutely certain of it.
"Hey!"
Those memories felt like they had happened only yesterday.
Or rather, I couldn't be sure if they were memories from yesterday, or from ten years in the future.
"Hey, you brat! Raygan! What are you doing just standing there? Do you want to starve? There's a mountain of cargo to move!"
A middle-aged mercenary with a long scar across his face bellowed at me. His face was familiar. He was the captain of the mercenary group I had briefly joined during my youth.
The location, too, was the mercenary camp.
The memories of this past were vivid. It even stirred a strange sense of nostalgia.
Reflected in a puddle on the ground was the face of a teenage boy. It was, without a doubt, my past self.
...I should definitely be dead...
Then what on earth was this situation I was facing now?
Was I seeing a flash of my life before my eyes at the moment of death?
"No."
As I stared at the scene before me, I felt a strange, cold sensation against my chest.
The source of that sensation was none other than a pendant.
The symbol of the Benheim patriarch, which Lunia had entrusted to me on our final night together.
The pendant engraved with the final rune.
Lunia's keepsake had traveled back through time, resting firmly in my hand.
"...That stupid greenhorn."
I didn't know how much of this Lunia had intended.
But if there was one thing I knew for certain, it was that her final words to me had not been in vain.
I had returned to the past.