Chapter 69

Chapter 69

The girl I had just tried to save—Erica—was destroyed by my own hands, leaving no trace behind.

Because Erica must not be remembered that way.

The dark sorcerer reflected on the girl he had lightly embraced just moments before.

She had been so light, her lack of arms and legs making her feel even lighter than a wooden doll.

Where her somber eyes once held emotions, only dried remnants of something resembling eyes remained.

The hands that had sometimes pointed at me, brewed delicious tea, and even poured me a cup, were gone.

Her slender arms, which had once seemed barely capable of lifting even a small object, had been obliterated and burned, leaving no trace behind.

The feet that had occasionally peeked out from her shoes were no longer there.

Her thighs, once thin yet still rounded enough to define her as a young woman when dressed, had vanished.

The clothes she wore were mere rags, layer upon layer of tattered fabric.

From where her eyes had been, dried streaks of brownish-red blood ran down her face—tears of blood, perhaps.

So, was this the girl I had sworn to save? The very one I had declared to the world I would protect?

If I let this corpse linger in its broken state, wouldn’t it amount to nothing more than self-satisfaction on my part? Shouldn’t I return her to the past, to where she belonged?

Using her body as a sacrifice to the dark gods wasn’t an option.

For the dark sorcerer, who had spent countless lifetimes curled in hiding from the scorn and threats of the world, only to repeatedly return to save Erica, she was a sacred being.

And then, he remembered: if he succeeded in destroying the Empire this time, he might be able to return to that timeline with her.

His thoughts moved quickly.

There was no point in burdening Erica with further suffering.

Evan had made a promise to Erica: “I will save you. I will protect you.”

Upon hearing those words, Erica’s expression had hardly changed—or so an observer might say. 

But the corners of her lips had twitched ever so slightly before falling again, as if she had tried to smile.

It had seemed like she wanted to cry, but whether because her eyes were gone or because her tears had dried up, she couldn’t.

The Crown Prince—no, the Emperor—had forced a gun into her hands, made her shoot herself, and then dragged her away after she was shot.

All I could do was watch.

For the price of a few million lives offered as sacrifices, I was told this was as far as it would go.

In return for watching Erica be lost before my eyes, I would be allowed to go back to the past.

“Isn’t it better than remembering her after her death?” the mocking voice of the dark gods taunted me.

As I tried to rush forward, my body was held firmly in place. 

My arms, bruised from the restraints, failed to cast a spell. 

I couldn’t even close my eyes as I was forced to watch Erica being dragged away, clutching at dirt and leaving trails of red blood behind her.

I had expected this outcome when I saw her being taken.

I wanted to storm the Imperial Palace immediately, but I convinced myself that ensuring her safe rescue was more important than a futile attempt.

Was that just a delusion of mine?

I pushed aside the creeping negative thoughts.

It was enough to have witnessed her dying, slowly withering, and enduring a fate worse than death.

This wasn’t unfamiliar.

Familiar, yes—but no amount of familiarity could dull the pain in my heart.

Destroying a nation as large as this Empire should be enough to break the constraints.

Armed with old memories, honed skills, and long-buried emotions, the sorcerer resolved to meet Erica again—not as a broken mess of feelings but as someone who could smile and say, “I’m living for you.”

***

The sorcerer blew the head off the man holding the pole Erica was tied to and used a gust of wind to soften her fall.

This must have been a trap, meant to lure him with the girl.

But traps were meaningless. Since the day Erica was taken, everything he had done had been on his own.

A battle that would normally have taken half a day stretched beyond a full day this time.

Though their forces were large, the soldiers’ crude spears and firearms only served as nourishment for the sorcerer.

They never learned.

As always, the dark sorcerer emerged victorious.

Once the pawns were cleared, decapitating the general ended it all.

The living were scarce, and even intact corpses were rare.

Wading through puddles of blood, the sorcerer approached the girl he had sought to save—though she was already beyond repair.

He called her name.

Lifting her fragile form, he pressed his forehead to hers and whispered:

“I know that if you die, I’ll go back. Next time, I’ll find you. This won’t happen again. I’ll protect you.”

And then, he ended her life.

He left no trace of her body behind.

There had never been a girl named Erica left in such a wretched state.

Clutching at the rags that remained, he muttered softly:

“Even if I have to burn the whole world as an offering…”

The dark sorcerer set off in search of new sacrifices, heading toward the Imperial capital.

***

Years later, the legendary dark sorcerer who had scorched the continent and become synonymous with calamity met his end.

Vivian, the mage, severed his limbs, and a knight blessed by a traitorous cleric pierced his heart. Even in death, the sorcerer laughed, mocking them.

“It’s finally time to reap the fruits of my labor,” he muttered, speaking words no one could understand.

A trembling hand spilled hot tea onto a leg.

It’s fine. The leg was still intact, and the pain was real.

Stimuli were important—the only things that affirmed one’s existence. Whether it was joy or pain didn’t matter.

“Evan… Evan saved me.”

She had doubted it, scolded herself for believing Evan would care enough to save her. But he had.

“How… how did he do it?”

No matter how many times she repeated time, she always stood still, but Evan seemed to draw closer, little by little.

“Haha… I don’t know. I don’t understand.”

She had spent so much time imprisoned in the palace that she craved a cigarette. 

But Johannes, that madman, would surely be roaming the halls, so she decided to wait.

For now, she would sip the fragrant tea and wait for Evan.

After all, he had told her to wait.