episode_0073

“Whether my prophecy is right or wrong no longer matters. The reason you’ve all gathered here is that, in the vision I saw, you were chosen as the Hero Party. In reality, you are also statistically the most likely candidates.”

As she listened to Eric’s words, Christine inwardly let out a sigh of relief. The fact that he had spoken at all meant he was willing to continue this meeting.

Even in her own estimation, this so-called Hero Party was overflowing with strong-willed, confident individuals. If Eric—offended by their attitudes—had outright refused to participate or fallen silent, the gathering would have collapsed then and there.

She had wanted to intervene when Elia and Cecilia pointlessly bickered, but acting rashly might only have incited further defiance. So, she had no choice but to wait and watch. Fortunately, her brother was adept at handling such situations, and he did exactly that.

‘There won’t be a second time.’

His gaze, falling upon her after calming the two, seemed to say exactly that. And Christine, more than anyone, knew it was no empty threat.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have tossed aside the lunchbox she had prepared without a second thought.

Giving him that lunchbox had been a calculated move. Though guilt gnawed at her for testing him, Eric had effortlessly dispelled her worries, rendering her hesitation foolish.

Emotional approaches didn’t work on him. He had likely seen right through her ploy—that if he ate the lunch, it would inevitably draw them closer. Even if not, simply sharing the topic of the lunchbox would naturally prolong their interactions.

If Christine had brought regrets and sorrow from the past world, Eric had brought resolve and experience. The two were never meant to oppose each other.

“So, what I’m trying to say—”

“I agree, Eric.”

“I wasn’t done talking?”

“Regardless, what you were going to propose is this—”

“Well, that’s true, but…”

Those who had brimmed with confidence and disregarded him were now fawning, mobilizing everything they had to win his favor. What must Eric be thinking, watching them like this?

“……”

Christine soon felt ashamed of her own thoughts. Hadn’t Eric already given her his answer? Bury the past as the past, but never forget what happened. If she behaved disgracefully now, even the minimal attention he afforded her would be mercilessly severed.

This meeting was her last chance—no, everyone’s last chance. Steeling her resolve, Christine opened her mouth.

“Brother. I have a question about the prophecy.”

“What is it?”

“How exactly does the prophecy’s timing work?”

“Timing? Do you think my prophecy follows some natural law? If I knew when this damned foresight would come, I wouldn’t have had to play the madman, wandering around aimlessly. Visions strike bang!—suddenly, without warning.”

Though his tone was grumbling, Eric gave a straightforward explanation about his precognitive abilities.

“So, you don’t know when it’ll come… or even what it’ll be about?”

“No wonder prophets in history books were treated like lunatics. They had to live in constant dread of an unknown vision—one that might not even be accurate.”

“Human fate isn’t set in stone,’ they say, but isn’t this ability too haphazard?”

“Eric. May I ask something this time?”

“No need to ask for permission. Speak freely. You’ll have to converse with far more troublesome people than me later, so why start hesitating now?”

“No, that’s not it.”

Lucella, her voice as detached and cold as ever, stared at Eric with emotionless eyes.

“If these prophecies are uncertain—impossible to verify whether they’re real or not—then what proof do we truly have of being chosen as the Hero Party?”

Since childhood, Lucella had always been called different.

Unlike other children, she had no parents.

Unlike other people, she felt no fear toward demons.

Unlike everyone else, she was a genius.

Even before pulling the sacred sword and becoming the Hero, she had already surpassed everyone. The only times she ever faced anything resembling a crisis were during mock battles with her comrades and when she confronted the Demon King in the previous timeline.

Her companions were strong but predictable, bound by their own habits and rules. Though she couldn’t always exploit the brief openings they left, Lucella almost always emerged victorious in their spars.

But the Demon King was nothing like any opponent she had ever faced. He wasn’t overwhelmingly stronger—if she fought with the resolve to die, she could at least strike a fatal blow, if not take him down with her.

Yet, for some reason, she saw no future where she defeated him.

“If Eric’s prophecy is mistaken, we may be making an irreversible error. We should conduct repeated prophecies to determine the most accurate candidates for the Hero Party.”

“Lucella? What do you mean? That we aren’t fit for this?”

“Compared to you, our strength may indeed fall short—but isn’t that assumption too extreme?”

“It isn’t. We know nothing about the Demon King. Right now, we four may merely be the strongest by chance. There’s ample possibility others with greater potential may emerge later.”

She wanted to voice the overwhelming helplessness she’d felt against the Demon King—but Lucella suppressed it. If Eric learned the truth they were hiding, he might rebel further, even harboring resentment toward all of humanity. After belittling and slandering him in the past, crawling back to him now would be disgraceful beyond measure.

Indulging in lofty titles like hope of the future and chosen Hero Party? Impossible.

Lucella quickly scanned the expressions around her. Never having lived among others, reading emotions was one of her few specialties.

Cecilia and Elia, still dubious, frowned. Useless to persuade them now. That left Christine.

But Christine was already one step ahead, quietly conversing with Eric.

Few others truly listened to Eric.

To Lucella, their opinions of him were irrelevant. She was about to press on—but Christine’s expression gave even her pause. It looked grave.

“……”

Silently, Lucella waited for her turn. Though blunt and unskilled with emotions, being ignored still hurt.

Displeasure.

That summed up Elia Pereyal’s feelings about this meeting. She regretted ever accepting Christine’s proposal, but it was too late now. This gathering was chaotic, yet the promise of meeting Eric had been too tempting for everyone, including her.

She had already secured extracurricular time with him, but it wasn’t enough. She couldn’t just approach him—ignorant of everything—and blurt out an apology. Yet neither could she pretend nothing had happened.

To take full responsibility for one’s actions—that was the pride of royalty. Born with more power and privilege than most, she also possessed the talent to wield it fully.

Elia was among the few who could confidently claim she lacked nothing.

She was lucky—and thus, couldn’t hoard that fortune. So when chosen for the hollow prestige of the Hero Party, she quietly accepted.

Her relentless sacrifices made incompetence intolerable. How could those beneath her dare claim answers she didn’t know?

They belonged behind her, shielded by merit alone.

“So, everyone! You really must listen to—”

“Are your ears decorative? Or perhaps you’ve heard the same drivel so often you no longer recognize it. Continue the battle!”

“We must activate this artifact today! Delay any further, and everything will burn!”

“Did you not hear Cecilia’s warning? That artifact is our last resort—not to be squandered here!”

“This place… Never mind. You wouldn’t listen anyway.”

“At last, you learn. Progress, truly.”

“Ah, whatever.”

“…………”

Eric spoke less and less, until finally, he ceased advising—or even addressing—Elia and the others.

And at the time, they believed that was the right path—without a shred of doubt.