Chapter 100
Marian Ernil... "Candidate for the Hero of Memory..?" one of the agents muttered absentmindedly.
Marian, eyes closed, gave a slight bow of her head. "Yes, that's correct."
At that moment, the emperor set down his teacup and spoke. "Are you aware there is no Hero of Memory on this continent?"
"Yes. I've heard as much from the Tower Master."
Blood nearly pouring from my ears, the agent thought, forcing the words back down his throat.
The emperor nodded slowly and continued. "The term 'candidate for the Hero of Memory' refers to those with the highest likelihood of being the true Hero. Many have been eliminated over time, and now only Marian Ernil remains."
One agent, mid-bite of a snack, paused and tilted his head. "Eliminated? How exactly do you verify that?"
The emperor swirled his teacup gently, creating a small vortex in the liquid. Faint steam rose hazily, dissipating like a mirage. "In the imperial palace of the Alteiron Empire lies a relic left by the Hero of Memory—a massive device known as the Memory Compass. According to his final words, it's a tool to find himself."
The Minister of Defense, stroking his chin in thought, chimed in. "That implies the Hero of Memory foresaw that he would lose his own memories."
"Likely so. He hasn't appeared in the centuries since the invasion ended." The emperor smiled bitterly, gazing up at the empty air. His weary eyes held a hollow longing, as if waiting endlessly for someone without promise.
"When the true Hero of Memory stands before it, the compass will point the way to the truth. That's all we know."
One agent raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Then why not just use the device?"
The emperor sighed deeply, as if the earth itself were crumbling. "Its activations are limited. In the early days, they dragged in anyone with potential and tested them indiscriminately, exhausting nearly all its energy. Now, only one use remains at best."
Silence fell over the room.
Gauging the mood, an agent ventured, "Is there no way to recharge it?"
"If we knew that, do you think we'd be sitting here like this? Only the Hero of Memory understands its structure and principles. Half a year ago, we assembled the empire's top thirty engineers to analyze it, but they couldn't even uncover how it works."
For the Alteiron Empire, it was a maddening impasse.
The emperor set down his empty cup and leaned back in his chair. A finely dressed maid approached, cradling a porcelain teapot in both hands, and refilled his cup. Rich herbal aroma wafted up with curls of steam.
"With the evil god stirring, we desperately need the Hero of Memory. And Marian Ernil is the closest we've got—golden mana aura, Pandela's pinnacle of martial prowess. Her achievements alone are countless."
The emperor turned to meet Marian's gaze. She bowed her head impassively, the picture of knightly stoicism—though it bordered on emotional barrenness.
"Then why hasn't Lady Marian Ernil undergone verification?"
"......Because I am still not ready."
Before the emperor could respond, Marian cut in without hesitation.
He stared at her wordlessly, then sighed heavily, turning weary eyes to the agents. "This is how it always goes."
A deathly silence enveloped the conference room, as if time itself had frozen—the stagnant air holding its breath.
"With only one activation left, we can't proceed without the candidate's consent, not even by imperial decree."
It was then that a Pentagon agent cautiously raised his hand. "Pardon, but how strong is the Hero of Memory that all this is necessary? Couldn't the Alteiron Empire simply build up equivalent military forces?"
Several agents nodded in agreement. After all, America had risen to global hegemony through steady military expansion.
But the emperor shook his head firmly, as if it were absurd. "The Hero of Memory inherits the full power and memories of his previous life, revives endlessly, and grows infinitely. How could anyone replace the force of one who could safeguard all of Pandela single-handedly?"
To put it in perspective, he was a strategic nuke in a world of cold weapons. No asymmetry compared to this.
Shock rippled across the Pentagon agents' faces. "If that's true, he's essentially a god, isn't he?"
"Indeed... that explains why he's the Hero of Memory."
The quiet room erupted in murmurs, like ripples spreading across a still lake.
The emperor nodded slowly. "That's why we need him so urgently. If he regains his memories and true power, an evil god would be no match."
He glanced sidelong at Marian with subtle expectation, but her expression remained unshaken.
Turning back to the agents, he spoke gravely. "We rebuilt this world over centuries after the invasion. We can't lose it all to the evil god now."
His weathered hands clenched into fists on his lap. "We must protect our home. That is the Hero of Memory's will—and my sacred duty."
After the grand banquet, in the private quarters assigned to the Pentagon agent by the imperial palace—a room reserved for the most honored of guests—a visitor arrived.
Sharp eyes that seemed unyielding to any hardship, a face devoid of expression. Her long ponytail caught the chandelier's light, shimmering like liquid gold across the table.
"Lady Marian Ernil, it's an honor to meet again. You mentioned during the banquet that you had private business with me. What brings you here?"
The agent spoke politely to the woman seated opposite.
Marian ignored the refreshments and cut straight to the point, skipping small talk. "I watched you throughout the meeting. You don't seem convinced by this situation."
Her golden eyes pierced him like arrows. "You disapprove of the operation to eliminate Sertina."
Hah... The agent let out a deep sigh, struck right at the core. He knew he couldn't hide it—his instincts told him that much.
"To be frank, I'm skeptical about eliminating Sertina."
Straightening up, he crossed his arms defiantly.
Marian's eyebrow arched with interest. "Sertina's actions on Earth were far from evil. Ordering us to provoke a being with such power who's lived quietly? It's like shoving the responsibility onto Earth."
Marian pondered briefly, then closed her eyes. "I see."
Her nod was calm, betraying no emotion.
She sipped her tea once and set it down. "Let me be direct."
Locking eyes with him, she continued. "The current Alteiron Empire—and Pandela itself—exists thanks to Sertina."
The agent nearly choked on his tea. Calming his pounding heart, he stared at the golden-haired woman before him. "Aren't you the candidate for the Hero of Memory?"
His voice carried bewilderment.
Marian closed her eyes calmly, then opened them. "It's true I've acted as his successor."
She caressed the warm teacup like an old friend, then shook her head. "But I'm only a candidate—not the Hero of Memory."
The agent, rolling the teacup handle between thumb and forefinger, nodded slowly. "So... you're not the Hero of Memory."
"Correct."
Her tone was flat, devoid of regret or self-mockery.
The agent set down his cup and leaned forward intently, his gaze sharpening like a veteran detective interrogating a suspect. "May I ask why you're revealing this to me specifically?"
"Simple. You're one of the few who trusts Sertina."
The agent's pupils wavered, then fixed on her—on Marian Ernil.
"Most of my achievements... aren't truly mine."
Marian bowed her head with a complicated expression. "Then whose are they?"
"Sertina's. She handed them to me."
The agent furrowed his brow, not fully grasping. Marian pressed on.
"After the invasion ended, Pandela swarmed with villains. Bandits and demon king remnants caused endless chaos, stalling reconstruction. I wandered the continent to stop them, and wherever I arrived, she was there."
Marian gazed into the distance, lost in memory. "Sertina bore the threats alone in the darkest shadows, unseen by all, shining quietly. She cleared the path, allowing Pandela to rebuild."
"I see. She removed every obstacle to reconstruction."
The agent, tapping the table thoughtfully, suddenly looked up. "Wait. If you're not the Hero of Memory... and you're bringing up Sertina now—don't tell me."
His eyes widened. Marian nodded.
"Sertina often spoke to the empty air, conversing with someone. She called it the 'Voice', but I never heard it."
"Hold on—that means...!"
"Perhaps that's another of Sertina's lost memories."
"......!"
The agent's hand trembled violently on the teacup, hot tea spilling onto his skin. But he had no time for that.
"Overwhelming power, restraint in not abusing it, unyielding patience amid persecution, forgiveness toward others, and that mysterious Voice."
Marian leaned forward, her voice firm, eyes alight with conviction. "In my view, she is undoubtedly the Hero of Memory."