Unraveling Realities.
Confronting it might lead me to my demise, yet I must confront it, nonetheless. I am still unfamiliar with the intricacies of resets, but the protagonist has always been transported to a point prior to the troubles.
Furthermore, a certain degree of discretion is granted.
As I traverse, reminiscences start flooding in. I was not placed at the same junctures as the protagonist.
If I return before the beasts...
Before the door, my hands begin to tremble, but I implore myself to be resolute.
I must confront Roswaal and unravel what he knows about me and his plans. This sacrifice is imperative for progress. With unwavering resolve, I grasp the handle and swing open the door.
Roswaal raises his head and greets me with mirth.
"Well, it seems the experiments have borne fruit," he says, beckoning me to sit. But I decline his gesture and stride toward him, wearing a stern countenance. I point, not at him, but at his attire.
"You know why I've come," I declare without preamble. "I wish to converse with you in private."
Roswaal maintains his smile, but his eyes caution me to be mindful of my words. Ram displays surprise and attempts to speak, but Roswaal silences her.
"I thought you came to discuss how we're going to rebuild the village," responds Roswaal, his arrogant smile intact.
I shall not dance to his tune, whatever the cost. I must obtain that information, even if it costs me my life. Ram interrupts, placing her hand on her chest and taking a step forward.
"I would never leave Lord Roswaal alone. Cease acting like a brute, Marco," she admonishes.
But I disregard her words and address Roswaal directly.
"The Book of Wisdom."
With those words alone, the atmosphere undergoes a drastic transformation. The room darkens, and Roswaal's arrogant expression dissipates. I feel an overwhelming pressure upon me, longing to kneel and catch my breath, but I compel myself to stand tall.
Ram fixes her gaze upon Roswaal, her countenance marked by astonishment. However, in the next moment, she directs a glare filled with anger toward me. Both individuals appear inclined to launch an assault against me, yet I remain steadfast and resolute.
"Did I previously impart this information to you?" Roswaal inquires, devoid of his usual verbal idiosyncrasies. He then rises, takes measured steps, and approaches the window.
"Indeed, you did," I reply, albeit with a measure of subterfuge. It is imperative that I discern the extent of Roswaal's knowledge regarding both me and my powers.
Roswaal maintains an extended silence, his gaze transfixed upon the vista beyond the window. Meanwhile, Ram advances toward him, her intent evidently being to quell his rising ire.
"Lord Roswaal, Marco is undoubtedly a simpleton who has undoubtedly misunderstood..."
In a graceful upward arc, reminiscent of the act of casting a trinket into the air, Ram's head disengages from her body and ascends, tracing a flawless parabolic trajectory. My astonishment becomes palpable as I establish eye contact with her.
Her eyes initially reflect surprise, yet in the next instant, a subtle smile graces her countenance. Resignedly acknowledging the unfolding events, Ram's severed head collides with the floor and comes to a rest beside a nearby wall.
Crimson liquid splatters Roswaal's form as the decapitated body of Ram descends to the ground. Without warning and seemingly devoid of any discernible necessity, Roswaal has executed Ram in cold blood.
"Excessive," I exclaim, addressing the monstrous presence before me.
Roswaal executes a half-turn, plunging his hand into his attire and retrieving a pristine white tome adorned with intricate inscriptions, its appearance reminiscent of an encyclopedic volume. He unfurls the tome and peruses its contents with alacrity.
"I fail to comprehend," Roswaal declares with force, emphatically snapping the tome shut. "How do you possess this knowledge?"
He advances toward me, exerting a mana-induced pressure that restricts any avenue of escape. I attempt to react and harness my own mana to counter him, yet Roswaal proves an adversary with whom I am ill-equipped to contend at this juncture.
Barely able to draw breath, my corporeal form pleads for capitulation, yet the appropriate moment for such surrender has not yet materialized.
"Does this revelation not find its source in your beloved's cherished tome? Your precious witch."
Once more, without warning, I endure a blow to my abdomen. Roswaal thrusts his fist with great force, causing me to expel with violence.
An intense burning sensation sears through my midsection, yet I remain resolute in concealing the pain from manifesting upon my visage.
I shall not reveal any weakness before him.
"I told you before, it was you who revealed it to me. How else would I know that your sole beloved is Echidna, the witch of greed? The three of you had adventures and revelry until Hector's assault."
It is probable that she is also hearing.
"You... Those are things I would never utter," Roswaal rebuffs my words, extending his arm in a horizontal arc. "Regardless, I would never utter such words at this juncture, after you've surmounted all."
Arrogantly, I smile and gaze unwaveringly into his eyes, devoid of any inkling of fear or pain.
"So, if this juncture was not meant to occur... Why?"
Roswaal attempts to strike me once more, this time with a right hook aimed at my visage, but I halt it with my hand. A resounding thud echoes as I employ all my strength to halt the blow.
"This was meant to occur. Perhaps... at Echidna's tomb?"
Roswaal's eyes widen in surprise at my knowledge of the tomb's existence.
"The tomb? How do you know of its existence?" Roswaal steps back, crossing his arms. "The only way you could know is if I told you."
"Yes, because that's precisely what happened," I assert firmly.
Roswaal ponders, furrowing his brow and reflecting. However, before either of us can fully grasp the situation, the door swings open with a forceful push.
"Ram!" Rem desperately cries out for her sister. She gazes at both of us, then shifts her gaze to the horizon, her countenance drained of color. Rem slowly approaches Ram's lifeless form.
Roswaal employs magic to seal the door and awaits Rem's approach.
Rem kneels, cradling her sister's body, and begins to sob.
"Why? Why? Everything was going so well," she murmurs between tears, clutching her sister's lifeless form, drenched in her blood. Roswaal appears to show little interest in her suffering.
Suddenly, Rem releases her sister's body onto the floor and, by instinct, activates her horn, directing her gaze toward Roswaal.
However, it is too late.
"El Fura!"
A swift, cutting gust of wind hurtles relentlessly toward Rem. When she attempts to react, it proves too tardy. The wind blade strikes her squarely, cleaving her in twain vertically. Both Rem and Ram, vanquished by the same individual who once offered them aid.
And I, in that moment, took no action to impede him.
"You wretched psychopath," I regard him with abhorrence, striving to restrain my disgust.
Beside Ram's lifeless form, Rem descends, entirely severed by the vertical cut, her innards bathing the already deceased Ram. Devoid of any chance to combat, both succumbed to the same person who had previously extended his assistance.
And I failed to act to thwart him as well.
"Bastard? Me?" Roswaal hurls another hook toward me.
I incline slightly to evade Roswaal's blow and deliver a direct punch to his face. His lip splits, and blood commences to flow from the impact. However, in the blink of an eye, Roswaal seizes me by the throat with vigor, inhibiting my escape.
Desperately, I strive to resist and break free, but my endeavors prove futile. In a final, desperate attempt, I employ wind magic to propel my arm in a direct strike toward his nose, causing it to shatter and compelling him to release his grip.
Roswaal retreats a few paces, casting me a hateful gaze as he forcefully expels all the accumulated blood from his bleeding nose.
I attempt to conjure a fireball, but Roswaal endeavors to kick me. I manage to evade his kick and try to tackle him, but in that very moment, I am propelled into the air by a gust of wind.
I collide forcefully with the wall, the impact immediately disorienting me, my head begins to spin, and I taste the metallic tang of blood in my mouth.
With great effort, I rise, gasping for breath as I strive to regain my composure.
"You are the instigator of all this. What's worst is that it seems not to affect you in the least," he declares, while I continue to struggle to regain my poise.
Then, with a glance attempting to conceal my disgust, I say:
"I've spent only a week and a few days with these people. I have lived through too much hardship in my life. In contrast, you live with the hope of fulfilling your goal to slay the dragon, seeking vengeance, and thus, the possibility of reuniting with your great love."
Roswaal lunges at me, attempting to kick me, but I manage to evade it. I deliver an upward hook punch toward him, but I receive a strong punch to the face in return.
"You cannot be the person I need. It should not be like this," Roswaal gazes toward the ceiling. "So, all of this was already ruined from the beginning."
"Don't play the saint. I know you have been reincarnated for four hundred years to fulfill your purpose, the atrocities you have committed, the way you planned everything to attract someone," I say, assuming a defensive stance, raising my arms. "I know you planned it all, even the attack on that village."
Roswaal's expression is priceless, his face contorted and wrinkled in surprise, and it brings me satisfaction. He glances at the book again, attempting to comprehend something.
"How do you know all of this?" Roswaal asks as he clenches the book's pages tightly. "You... seem to have an agenda with this." He looks me in the eyes as if hesitating whether to say something or not. "The attack on the village..."
Roswaal moves swiftly, grabbing my arm and tearing it off with his other hand. Indescribable pain courses through every inch of my body, and blood starts gushing from the wound. The moment I try to scream, Roswaal kicks me in the face.
"If I had known this earlier, I would have killed you a long time ago," Roswaal creates another wind blade and hurls it at me. "You shouldn't have told me, no matter what you do, everything must proceed as planned."
With a smile on my face, I gaze at him, awaiting my end.
However, despite it all, a familiar voice resonates in the room, interrupting the tense silence.
"I won't let you!" exclaims a determined girl.
Suddenly, Beatrice appears before us and blocks Roswaal's attack, causing him to fall into the abyss, vanishing into the darkness.
"It seems you've grown fond of this person," Roswaal comments, fixing his gaze on Beatrice while holding something in his pocket, from which emits a small blue light. "Is this the one you've been searching for?"
Tears flow down Beatrice's face as she completely ignores Roswaal and focuses on healing my arm, staunching the bleeding with her magic. Her actions speak louder than words.
I am the one who breaks the heavy silence that surrounds us.
"Did you hear it?"
"Yes," Beatrice responds amidst sobs, clinging to the hope my words provide her.
Beatrice continues to mend my wounds, lost in her own world. Roswaal watches us impassively, showing a hint of respect towards her.
"I know, I understand all the suffering you've endured," I whisper to Beatrice, gritting my teeth to contain the pain.
"Yes, I suppose," Beatrice says, her voice broken with sadness.
"Then... why?"
Beatrice's appearance at this moment is unexpected for me. For her, it should not mean much yet. Perhaps only a glimmer of hope, if even that.
I kneel before her, our faces inches apart. Seeing her cry deeply wounds me. Alongside Emilia, Beatrice has been the only person to offer me unwavering support. The only one who has remained by my side without causing more trouble.
"You," Beatrice places her warm hands on my cheeks, "are my hope, I suppose." Her tears flow unabated, her face reflects the pain of a forgotten past. "You came and changed everything, with your attitude, you made me believe that..."
"Am I him?"
These words make Beatrice pause her crying for a moment. Her gaze reflects surprise, but also a smile forms on her lips, a smile that radiates gratitude and hope.
"I know everything about you; I know every chapter of your story, and I understand that you've been trapped for four hundred years." With my left arm, I embrace her tenderly and resolutely. "All I want is to see you happy, nothing more."
She reciprocates the embrace, her arms holding onto me tightly, as if afraid I might slip away. Amidst her tears, I find solace, and I feel love and compassion flowing between us.
While Beatrice weeps on my chest, I turn my gaze towards Roswaal, who slowly approaches us. Beatrice seems not to notice his presence, or perhaps she chooses to ignore it.
Roswaal's face reflects a mix of indescribable emotions, far from the anger that consumed him earlier and the joy he used to display. Now, his gaze conveys acceptance and resignation.
He knows that this world is doomed, and there's only one option left.
"I don't know what's happening, but if you somehow know so much, then..." Roswaal murmurs, interrupted by an act of betrayal.
While still holding Beatrice in my embrace, I feel something pierce through my abdomen, but she does not let go. I stifle my voice, the pain, and everything inside me.
"You'll never achieve your dreams. You are a monster, Roswaal, you have sacrificed entire generations for your obsession. That is not love; you are a damned monster that must be eradicated," I affirm with conviction, directed at Roswaal, while Beatrice tries to use her magic to escape.
However, nothing happens.
"I'm sorry, Beatrice. It seems this is where we end," I accept with sadness.
Beatrice releases herself from my chest and looks directly into my eyes, a mix of melancholy and resignation reflected on her face.
"It's been a fleeting week, more than those wretched four hundred years, in fact," her words hang in the air, almost in a coordinated tone, "Now, finally..."
At that moment, I lose all sensation in my body and collapse to the ground, watching Roswaal's feet dissolve into a swirl of white particles. Beatrice is gone, and I am on the brink of death. All of this, all this suffering, just to obtain the necessary information.
I can undo it all. I just must endure it, as long as I don't lose my sanity.
As my vision fades completely, I hear a desperate cry from Emilia.
"Marco!"
She rushes toward me, without saying another word. But it is already too late. I didn't want her to see me in this state.
"I don't understand how it works," Roswaal whispers, uttering his last words before darkness envelops me entirely.