Initiating a silent pact of camaraderie, I grasp Frey's hand, discerning a complicity on his face that transcends words. Emilia, by my side, also smiles, radiating shared relief.
"It will be an honor to toast to this victory. After all, we have triumphed over one of the greatest adversities," I remark, my lips forming a smile concealing the urgency within.
Frey's suggestion for me to rest acts as a soothing balm to my weary body. I express gratitude, withdrawing with Emilia and Beatrice.
With her magic, Emilia prevents further depletion of my already diminished mana reserve. Despite the expended energies, her appearance reveals astonishing vitality; Emilia is undeniably a potent mage.
"Thank you," I convey, my gaze reflecting genuine appreciation towards Emilia.
She is one of the few individuals in whom I can place complete trust. Although I cannot divulge the current events to her, I know her support is unwavering.
"Hmpf! You always put yourself in peril indeed," I hear Beatrice's disgruntled murmur, followed by a vigorous gesture placing her hand on my chest. "You should take better care of yourself, I suppose. I don't even want to entertain the thought of you not returning one day."
The gravity of her words resonates with me. Our faces, tense with concern, meet. I understand what I must do. Tenderly, I take Emilia's hand with my left and place my right hand on Beatrice's head.
"I'm sorry; I know I caused worry. But now everything is fine," affirmative words become a mantra resonating in my mind. "Yes, everything is fine."
An attempt at a smile graces my lips, and before I can react, both envelop me in a comforting embrace. I feel their tangible relief, their breath held by the anxiety that besieged them.
I know Beatrice experienced an echo of what I felt on the battlefield, a connection that linked our hearts in the heat of combat.
I must learn to deceive them. Somehow, I must keep the truth of what is happening a secret.
However, it is an enigma even I cannot unravel.
"You worried me, I suppose," Beatrice murmurs, her words tinged with reproach, while holding onto me with determination. "You're a fool, that's for sure."
A hint of humor intertwines with my response.
"A knight's duty is to protect his princess, both princesses," my words are like a vow, a commitment sealed with my emotions, "and that's what I will do, no matter the challenges that arise."
Denial manifests in their gestures and looks, though their heads shake in sincere rejection.
"If it means you'll keep risking your life, I'd rather you not continue being our knight," Emilia sighs, a veil of sadness in her eyes. "Always wearing that expression..."
My gaze averts, thoughts aligning with her words.
Expression?
I sigh, resigned to the truth of their emotions.
My commitment to them is a bond that transcends time and space. I am willing to face the abyss if it means protecting them, even if it entails confronting the darkness within my own heart.
"I won't die, I assure you. I'll only leave this world after sharing a full life together... Understand?" my response bursts with resolute fervor, intending to instill certainty and calm in a tumultuous moment.
Both nod in synchrony, and our gestures elicit smiles from nearby knights.
I observe affection and understanding in their eyes, yet I cannot shake the feeling that this is just a momentary act. I internally apologize for my thoughts, for the lack of emotional connection in a moment that should be poignant.
After a few minutes, Emilia and Beatrice gently slip from my arms.
"I'll attend to the wounded. Are you coming, Betty?" Emilia takes Beatrice's hand, surprising her with the nickname. A complicit wink from Emilia confirms she has grasped my intentions.
Yes, there is someone who has lost everything and is engulfed in loneliness.
I walk in search of that figure, circling around the tree. Guilt and remorse weigh with each step. If only I had weighed my decisions more carefully, perhaps this situation wouldn't have occurred.
Though, in a corner of my mind, it whispers that even a different choice might have had equally devastating consequences.
Before me stretches the same field of flowers where I shared crucial conversations in the past. In that place, her figure stands out: her green hair sways in the night breeze, and her silhouette is illuminated by the faint moonlight.
However, this time, the surroundings seem to have undergone a transformation; its beauty is now tinged with a cold and desolate hue.
As the commotion of knights handling victorious affairs contrasts with this scene, a duality forms between the celebration of triumph and the shadow of heartbreaking loss.
I approach with slow steps, each heavier than the last.
The need to console her overwhelms me, but I feel helpless in the face of the magnitude of her pain. I have no answers or solace to offer, as I don't even fully understand what is happening.
My mind desperately seeks the one person who might shed some light on this darkness: Pandora. Since our encounter at the kiosk, her mysterious ability has been an enigma.
If she has the power to alter reality, could she have influenced this tragedy?
When I am a few steps away from Crusch, she turns her face towards me, her smile dim, but with a hint of acceptance. A prolonged sigh, laden with regret and sadness, seems to drag her soul along.
"I fought, fought with all my might, and now..." Crusch looks up at the starry sky, her hand reaching upward.
A crushing weight descends upon my heart. Somehow, this is my fault.
My mere existence has triggered this tragedy. I wonder if Crusch's fate is now better or worse than the one the novel had in store for her, where she fell into the Blood of the Dragon's trap, losing her memories and freedom.
But the truth is, I have no answers.
I don't know.
"How do you remember me?" her voice resonates in a bitter and frustrated tone.
"It's a divine blessing," I respond, attempting to confirm if her gift is still active, if she can perceive lies, and, if so, detect any peculiarities in Ley's ability.
"Don't try to deceive me!" Crusch exclaims forcefully, her gaze accusing, her eyes threatening to shed tears that she holds back with all her might. "Even if no one else remembers me, I can still detect lies."
"I'm sorry; I just wanted to confirm it."
Surprise crosses her eyes at my sincere reaction. At this moment, I am so disoriented that I don't even know what expression I should have, or what expression I do have.
I let myself be carried by the current of the moment, exhausted by all this confusion.
"I'll explain everything when we have time..."
"If you prefer not to talk, don't. In the end, I can't do anything anymore." Her eyes shift towards the field of flowers, some closing as night falls, their petals hidden in the darkness approaching.
I can't do anything. I'm not the noble person who risks their life for someone they've barely had a conversation with. But didn't I do the same for Emilia?
Doubt overwhelms me as the night wind whispers unheard secrets.
...
It's absurd, utterly absurd. My mind spins in circles, trying to find a clear path, an idea, an answer. But everything is in chaos, senseless, directionless.
Where is the solution?
Where is the light to guide me?
All I have is a heavy burden on my shoulders. I can bear that weight, but if the bridge I cross doesn't hold, then what?
I sigh, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions enveloping me. A deep fear, a sense of desperation. I approach Crusch, placing my hand on her shoulder in an attempt to convey some strength.
"I'm sorry," I murmur, averting my gaze to the flowers. "This has spiraled out of control."
The save point must have changed. I'm in a safe place, which means the battle and what happened are recorded in this reality. I'm sure of that.
"I can't save you."
My words fall like a hammer. Crusch begins to tremble, sitting on the ground and gesturing for me to join her. I do, dropping down beside her.
I observe the moon rising, contemplating whether I should have taken Emilia's hand. Perhaps I should have escaped after being defeated by Puck.
Maybe the protagonist was always meant to be him, someone capable of maintaining a smile in all circumstances. Perhaps I am an anomaly, someone who should not exist in this world.
Searching for distinctive features on the moon, I find nothing. No large craters or any sign of being a natural satellite. I observed it with my cellphone before, and it seemed artificially constructed.
"That man, I know him," Crusch speaks, her voice laden with hatred and rage. "The man who took my place, he should be dead."
She tears chunks of earth with her hands, squeezing them tightly. Biting her lip, she lets blood drip onto the ground.
"Do you know him?" I inquire, attempting to decipher who this person might be. I don't recall anyone like that; I know the story included secondary characters, but I never bothered to read their tales.
"Yes, he was someone I greatly valued," Crusch murmurs, her gaze filled with profound pain. "Even if he has changed a lot, I would recognize him instantly. His aura, his way of speaking, his tone of voice. Even if he altered his hair and eyes, I could see through it."
Crusch's eyes meet mine. In her gaze, I discern desperation, sadness, and hatred. A void seems to swallow everything around.
"The one I thought would be the king, the one who could have held the title of Lion King," Crusch reveals the lion inscription on her sword. "Fourier Lugunica."
Fourier Lugunica. I remember that name; he was someone from the royal family who died due to a strange illness that affected the entire Lugunica bloodline.
I didn't know they were so connected, but if Crusch's words are true, then...
"Has he returned from the dead?" I ask, attempting to piece together the puzzle.
Crusch shakes her head.
"I don't know. I attended his funeral, saw him die before me," Crusch clenches her hands, and I gently take one to prevent her from hurting herself. "He... no, he is someone I deeply respect and appreciate, that's why..."
I don't have a clear image of what Fourier was like, but theoretically, all members of the royal family should have a similar appearance to Felt, for Crusch to recognize him this way.
And now, this person has returned from the dead and taken the place Crusch should have occupied in this world.
"It seems he doesn't remember me, but I do. His way of speaking, his movements, everything about him is identical."
"Recognized by the dragon's insignia."
My words widen Crusch's eyes. She leans toward me, surprised. I feel an impulse and step back a bit.
"Have you seen him?" her lips tremble as she tightens her grip on my hand. With her other hand, she searches her belongings, but after a few seconds, finds nothing. "It's not... The insignia."
She uses both hands to search her clothes, but when she finds nothing, she looks at me incredulously. "It's not there."
"Stand up and check again."
She gets up and frantically searches for a few minutes but eventually stops.
"It's not there."
Is it possible? Perhaps his presence has been replaced, but that wouldn't make sense. Could it be related to his significance? Maybe a unique object like that had to be absorbed by the world somehow.
"And if it was taken during the battle?" I suggest, trying to find an explanation.
It's unlikely to have fallen. She showed me the pocket where she had it tucked in her suit, an inner pocket near the left side. Although the pocket is slightly torn, you would have to go through the front of the suit for it to tear accidentally.
"Do you think Gula could have stolen it?" she asks me with a worried expression.
"I don't know, it's possible. But if that were true, then the tear in the pocket wouldn't make sense."
Frey Karsten.
"Royal blood. Undoubtedly, the insignia resonated with the blood in his veins, confirming him as Fourier Lugunica," I affirm, and Crusch nods.
That would explain the mystery behind the change in the dragon's reading. With Fourier alive, regardless...
"How would the dragon know it's Fourier? If someone has taken over his body..."
She shakes her head.
"It's the blood and his soul. As I mentioned before, it's not that they've taken over his body, but they've brought Fourier back to life."
His soul, the mind of the candidate closest to the Lion King's throne. The dragon's stone immediately recognized him as a candidate and changed its prophecy to accommodate the Lion King on the throne.
Felt possesses the necessary blood to be a candidate.
But if it's about the dragon, it could be the figure of the Lion King, someone capable of perceiving the aura of a king.
That's why I felt intimidated when I saw him because he is someone who can penetrate the essence of others, someone sharp-minded and intelligent. If he is linked to the cult, if Pandora has any connection to all this...
"Marco," Crusch snaps me out of my train of thoughts, giving me an intense look. "What should I do?"
Her question fills me with sadness. Never, even in my farthest thoughts, did I imagine I would hear that question from someone like Crusch. I always idealized her, but now I understand her situation.
At this moment, Crusch is more than a source of information; information that could be inaccurate and confusing. If her actions have been precisely replaced, there would be no issue with the information she provides.
However, if the person named Frey Karsten has introduced slight changes, if the reality that existed before has been slightly altered...
Of course, it has changed.
I didn't fight alone; the people who perished have been erased. In this new scenario, I have no idea what to expect from her, but I will follow what my intuition dictates.
"What do you want to do?" I ask, employing a response in the form of a question, although I know that could be interpreted as disrespectful.
Nevertheless, at this moment, Crusch is more than a noble, more than a candidate for the throne; she is a person searching for her identity and place in this reality, her eyes, I recognize.
"I..." she murmurs, her gaze fixed on the ground, as if trying to find answers in the tiles beneath her feet.
I suppose a little push might be what she needs.
"Crusch, I admire you. Your way of being, your way of acting, that defiant attitude that always captivates me when I'm with you." I observe her with determination. "Remember who you are, recall your purpose. Even if you feel lost at this moment, keep this in mind."
On my knees, one leg resting on the ground to maintain balance, I take her hand in mine. I look her in the eyes, trying to calm the turmoil within me.
"When you find yourself in a tunnel, and that tunnel begins to collapse, leaving only darkness, look carefully ahead." I place my hand on her shoulder and offer a reassuring smile. "Trust the light you carry within you. I'm sure that light will be your guide, leading you out of the tunnel before it collapses completely."
I stand up, leaving her alone to reflect on what she wants to do.
Now is not the time to suffer; I will allow myself a break when I reach Irlam. However, for now, I have to continue, no matter what awaits me.
I cannot afford to falter at this crucial moment; if I do, everything will crumble.