What the Protagonist Fears
Edan Gray's illusion reeked of blood. It was neither as beautiful as the Rose Garden nor as splendid as the imperial palace. The scene was a ruined training ground. The sky had sunk into blackness, and the ground was cracked and broken. Shattered swords and fragments of armor lay scattered across the field, while a low, bell-like toll echoed from somewhere in the distance. In the center of it all stood Edan, sword in hand. The blade was stained with blood. Three figures lay collapsed before him: Rhea Silverrian, Aria Elowen, and Siella Bayern. Rhea's silver hair was soaked in blood and dust, Aria's fingertips still glowed with the fading remnants of holy power, and Siella knelt on one knee, clutching a broken sword.
I held my breath. This isn't reality. It's an illusion shown by B-7's sealed gate. A trial that pierces the deepest part of a person's heart, revealing what they desire most and what they fear most. Even so, the scene before me was painfully vivid.
"This is……"
Edan's voice trembled. He stared down at the sword in his own hands.
"Did I do this?"
I couldn't answer right away. I knew it was an illusion. But illusions don't create lies from nothing. They drag out the fears buried deep inside a person and present them in their cruelest form. What Edan Gray feared most wasn't defeat. It was harming the very people he was meant to protect—with his own hands.
"Edan."
I called his name. He didn't respond. His eyes remained fixed on the three fallen figures—the heroines who were supposed to be tied to him in the original story. The ones he was meant to save, understand, and grow alongside. Yet here they lay at the edge of his blade.
"How strange," Edan muttered. "I've never seen a scene like this before. So why does it feel so…… familiar?"
A chill ran down my spine. As expected. Edan could feel it too. He sensed that there had once been a path he was supposed to walk, and that path was now veering off course. Even without knowing the original novel like I did, as the central figure of this world, he instinctively recognized the distortion in its flow.
At that moment, someone emerged from the opposite side of the training ground. Another Edan. But he was different from the one standing beside me. This illusory Edan looked more perfect. His uniform was immaculate, and his sword shimmered with a blue light. His face held unwavering conviction, and his gaze was almost unnervingly clear. He was smiling.
"Why are you hesitating?"
The Edan beside me stiffened. The illusory Edan spoke again.
"You've done the right thing."
"The right thing?"
"That's right. The princess had to be discarded for the sake of the imperial family. The knight's daughter blocked your path with her pride. And the saintess candidate endangered everyone while trying to save them all." He flicked the blood from his sword. "What matters is the greater justice. If it means saving more people, then a few sacrifices are necessary."
Edan's face turned pale.
"No."
"No?" The illusory Edan tilted his head. "You've always been taught that way. Do what's right. Help the weak, stop evil, prevent greater harm. But if you let yourself be swayed by weak emotions, more people will die."
"Stop it."
"Then choose." The illusory Edan pointed his sword at the three fallen figures. "Will you save one person? Or will you cut down one for the sake of everyone else?"
Only then did I understand. Edan's illusion wasn't simply about killing someone precious to him. It went deeper. He feared becoming someone who would sacrifice others in the name of justice. The protagonist. The center of the original story. The one who must save everyone. But the word "everyone" could be cruel. Within it, individuals became mere numbers—sacrifices that could be discarded for the sake of a greater good. Edan feared that. He feared his own sense of justice turning into a blade.
"Edan."
I called him again. He barely managed to look at me, his eyes trembling.
"Lord Kyle."
"This is an illusion."
"I know that."
"Then don't waver."
"But……" He looked down at the sword in his hand. "I can't be certain that this is completely false."
His words were honest. Painfully so. Edan was different from me. I moved to survive. At first, it was just to avoid my own death. But Edan was different. From the beginning, he was someone who moved to save others. People like him were shaken more deeply by the possibility that their choices could harm someone.
The illusory Edan laughed.
"Don't ask Kyle Diaren. He's an error who stole your place."
At those words, Edan's gaze turned toward me. The illusion never missed an opening.
"He took the people you were meant to save. The trust you should have received, the events you should have faced, the bonds you should have built." The illusory Edan's voice was gentle. "And yet you still want to help him. Because you're kind. But kind people are sometimes the easiest to rob. They smile even after their share is taken away."
Edan's grip on his sword tightened. I looked at him and asked,
"Do you believe that?"
Edan couldn't answer. I took a step forward.
"You might. It's true that I've interfered with your place." The illusory Edan smiled, but I didn't stop. "But that doesn't mean you have to cut me down."
Edan looked at me.
"My lord."
"And failing to save the heroines doesn't make you a fake protagonist either." I raised my sword. "Whether protagonist or villain, those titles come later. What matters now is what you choose."
The smile vanished from the illusory Edan's face.
"It's just words. You're afraid too. Afraid that you've stolen all of this."
"You're right," I admitted. "I'm afraid too. Even now."
Edan looked at me quietly. I drew a breath.
"I'm afraid that by surviving, someone else will get hurt. I'm afraid that by interfering, the original flow will break and lead to even greater disasters. I keep wondering if I've stolen someone else's place." My voice lowered slightly. "But even so, I can't abandon the person standing in front of me right now."
I looked at Edan.
"You feel the same, don't you?"
Edan didn't answer. But the tip of his sword lowered slightly. The illusory Edan spoke coldly.
"Weak."
"No." Edan spoke for the first time. His voice still trembled, but it was clear. "It's not weakness."
He stared at the blood-stained sword.
"What I fear isn't failing to save someone. It's becoming the kind of person who, drunk on the idea of saving everyone, starts seeing the people right in front of him as mere numbers."
The illusory Edan's eyes narrowed. Edan adjusted his grip on his sword.
"Justice should exist to save people. It shouldn't become an excuse to cut them down."
I felt a surge of admiration. That was Edan Gray. Straightforward enough to truly deserve the title of protagonist. But now I couldn't simply admire that righteousness from afar. This man was my partner. At the same time, he was someone who doubted me—and someone I might have to rely on.
"Lord Kyle." Edan looked at me. "I still can't trust you completely."
"I know."
"But at least for now, I know you're not someone who runs away."
I gave a bitter smile.
"I do want to run away."
"And yet you're still here."
"Same goes for you."
Edan let out a short laugh. For the first time, the tension in his expression eased slightly. The illusory Edan raised his sword.
"You're both fools." Blue and black light rose from his body simultaneously. "A story allows only one center. There can't be two protagonists. If the villain survives, the protagonist wavers. If the protagonist wavers, the story collapses."
"Then let it collapse," I said.
The illusory Edan looked at me. I raised my sword.
"I'm tired of hearing that the story matters more than people."
Edan stepped up beside me.
"I agree."
It was the first time we stood facing the same direction. The illusory Edan charged. He was fast. His sword was far sharper than Edan's, as if he were the completed form of the original protagonist. His first strike aimed for my throat. I barely dodged it. The second was blocked by Edan. Sword met sword, sending blue sparks flying.
"Left!" Edan shouted.
I moved before I could think. The illusory sword curved in from the left. I blocked it. My arm went numb. My still-unrecovered body screamed in protest, but I didn't fall. Edan struck at an opening. The illusion twisted to avoid it, but in that moment I swung my sword low. The illusion's legs faltered.
"Your breathing is good," Edan said.
"I know a bit of your swordsmanship originally."
"I'll hear the details later."
"Terrifying."
The illusory Edan raised his sword again.
"You two cannot stand together." His voice overlapped, as if mixed with Rowen's. "Protagonist and villain cannot be on the same side."
I gritted my teeth.
"That's not for you to decide."
Edan stepped forward.
"Lord Kyle."
"Yes."
"This time, I'll go first."
He kicked off the ground. A fast, straight charge. The illusion naturally moved to parry his sword. But Edan's blade stopped midway. It wasn't a perfect attack—it was an opening created on purpose. In that instant, I thrust in from the side. The illusion's gaze turned to me. Too late. Edan's real strike came from below. My sword pinned the illusion's defense, and Edan's blade pierced through his chest.
The illusory Edan's face twisted.
"The story……"
Edan spoke quietly.
"Should exist for people. Not people for the story."
The illusion shattered. The training ground, the fallen heroines, the blood-stained sword—all scattered into pieces. The darkness receded. I was standing once more in the forest of Zone B-7. Edan was beside me. He was catching his breath, sword still in hand. But there was no blood on it.
"Are you all right?" I asked. Edan was silent for a moment.
"It's hard to say that I am."
"Honest of you."
"But I can still stand."
"Then that's enough."
Just then, light burst in the distance. White holy power—Aria's light. Soon after, blue chill rose above the forest. Rhea's magic. And a red sword gleam cut through the mist. Siella.
"It seems they're all still trapped in their illusions," Edan said.
I nodded.
"We should go."
"Who should we find first?"
In that moment, the entire forest trembled. Voices echoed from every direction. Aria's tearful voice.
"Lord Kyle, I……"
Rhea's cold voice.
"Don't believe it."
Siella's low cry.
"If you can't hold a sword……"
Three illusions were moving at once. I clenched my teeth.
"Start with the closest one."
Edan adjusted his grip on his sword.
"Let's go together."
I looked at him. Protagonist and villain. Two roles that were never meant to stand side by side. But now we began running in the same direction. B-7's trial wasn't over yet.