Chapter 77

 

Even with all the healing magic cast, a missing leg doesn’t simply grow back.

Evan surely knew that, yet he kept muttering incantations, his trembling hands pouring more and more mana into the spell.

I didn’t know how much power he had already expended, but when blood began to drip from his nose, I shoved him away.

“It’s fine. I’m used to it.”

At least it was the left leg, and a foot at that. Lucky, perhaps.

I could still hobble around like a cripple, limping about.

Except for the fact that the side was reversed, it wasn’t so unfamiliar.

After all, I still had both arms intact.

“I tried to stop something like this from happening… Am I still not good enough?

Maybe if I send you back one more time. Or again, and again, and again… will it finally work?”

Evan muttered to himself, rambling about sending me back.

He wouldn’t meet my eyes, no matter how I shook him or patted his cheeks. So, I gave him a gentle push.

But his body remained stiff as a board, refusing to budge.

“Evan, a shot to the shoulder won’t kill you. Just pull the bullet out yourself.”

With that, I pressed the muzzle of my gun against his shoulder and pulled the trigger.

He snapped out of his daze, shaking his head before mumbling an apology and hugging me tightly.

I almost lost my balance, standing as I was on one leg, but I managed to steady myself.

Then, something strange happened. Whatever bizarre experiment Evan had performed on himself caused his flesh to regenerate, pushing the bullet out as his wound closed on its own.

“Evan, aren’t you getting tired of all this?”

“I am. Always. It’s exhausting—I’m so damn tired I could scream.

You saw it too, didn’t you?

After fighting things like that over and over, it’s only natural to be worn out.

The worst part is knowing they seem like they’d understand reason but absolutely don’t. Compromise is impossible. It’s infuriating.”

Evan scratched his head irritably, pacing to the center of the room.

“I’ve tried everything—pleading with them, trying to save you, turning back time.

Hell, when Vivian was the one who got you killed, I even proposed those solutions to her.

But death at Vivian’s hands is just death.

There’s no ‘coming back’ for her, not like for you or me.”

“A person willing to save ten strangers at the cost of one close friend’s life is the truly crazy one.

They point fingers at me, calling me a mad, cursed, depraved, evil dark mage who should die—
but to them, the lives of strangers they’ve never met are more important than their loved ones or friends.

Who’s really insane?”

Evan rarely spoke about how difficult things had been for him—how tired he was, how often he’d failed.

I didn’t know if he wanted to appear strong or simply didn’t want to make me uneasy.

But everyone needs to set their burdens down for a while, to rest irresponsibly.

Otherwise, they’ll just give up entirely.

I gave up once too, though I even failed at that. Ha.

“So, it’s been hard for you?”

Listening to Vivian, it sounded like something the plump aristocrats of old London used to say— ‘the greatest happiness for the greatest number.’

Of course, it wasn’t exactly the same, but sacrificing a few individuals for the greater good wasn’t far off.

“Yeah. It’s been hard.”

“What did you hate the most?”

“I hated having insane people sticking to me like leeches, constantly following me around.”

“But was there anything you liked about it?”

“When we stormed the Imperial Palace and slowly roasted that foolish Emperor alive.

I could see it then—the way to save you was so close.”

Finally, Evan stopped looking at my missing left leg.

Even in the midst of those awful times, there had been small joys.

As he recalled them, he looked at me—but it was clear he was only seeing the memories in his mind.

He wore a faint, greasy smile as he spoke.

“If you managed to burn the Emperor alive, where was Vivian in all this?”

“She abandoned the Emperor and fled to the northern duchy.

That idiot was probably still begging her to become his concubine even as the flames engulfed him.

He was that kind of fool.”

Evan chuckled to himself as he recounted the story of the now-Crown Prince burning to death.

It wasn’t exactly a pleasant tale, but when someone needs comforting, you don’t point out how distasteful their words are.

“Come to think of it, even back then, Vivian chose the greater good.

She stayed in the Empire even when the Emperor was pestering her.

After all, so many had fled north or west because of all the killings in the Empire—Vivian must have gone north too.”

A Northern Duke.

Hearing those words, the world suddenly felt like a cruel joke.

It was as if this story was no longer about Vivian’s romance, but instead an adventure where she joined forces with a noble, stoic, and handsome Northern Duke to hunt down Evan and me.

“Anyway, I’ve planted people everywhere, and I’m ready to cause some chaos.”

Evan’s awkward cough at my skeptical glance—clearly asking how he’d managed such preparation while sticking to my side daily—was almost amusing.

“It’s not like I spent all my time at the academy just playing around.”

“Alright, then. Go ahead.”

I pulled a handkerchief from my pocket and handed it to Evan.

He stared at the pristine white fabric for a long moment before accepting it, tucking it into his chest.

With a faint smile, he turned and began walking away.

“Feel free to eat everything inside. There’s enough for two years.

If I’m not back in three months, head down the mountain path to the village on the right and ask around.

If I’m not back in a year…”

I cut him off before he could finish.

I didn’t want to hear it.

“Just go.”

Evan nodded silently and left the room.

If the room had been empty aside from the food, I might have been terribly bored. 

Thankfully, the walls were lined with books—dense tomes filled with dry, knowledge-oriented content meant purely for information, not entertainment.

I wandered among the books, occasionally glancing at the empty space where my left foot used to be, before lying down on the bed and closing my eyes.

Not that I managed to sleep.

Three months passed quickly.

Eating, washing in a nearby stream, and spending entire days reading before sleeping—it wasn’t boring at first. Once it became routine, time seemed to fly by.

Evan didn’t return.

Hadn’t he told me to go down to the village for news?

But I had no desire to go.

Moving was inconvenient without a leg, and the cold made it worse.

Half a year has passed.

Evan still hadn’t returned.

He’d said to wait a year, so I would. He’d come back.

Now that I thought about it, had Evan even promised he’d return when I told him to leave?

“When will Evan come back?”

I asked my newly acquired pet—not an animal, as it wasn’t alive or moving, but a convenient companion that didn’t need food or water.

My neatly polished pet rock offered no response.

Frustrated, I had once thrown it into the fireplace, only to retrieve it later, my palms scorched from the flames. Since then, I’d left it near the bed instead of risking the fire again.

Nine months passed.

I’d read all the books in the room and understood their contents perfectly. To pass the time, I started rereading them, using the opportunity to review what I’d learned.

I was beginning to grasp the basics of dark magic, the kind Evan used.

A year passed.

Unable to bear it any longer, I strapped my cherished gun to my hip, packed it with bullets, and left the little cabin.

Except for picking up my pet rock and washing up occasionally, I’d never left with a purpose. The fresh air felt exhilarating.

Following Evan’s instructions, I descended the mountain path and took the fork leading right.

Before long, I spotted a small village that seemed to house about a hundred people.

The faces of the villagers I passed were uniformly grim and sorrowful.

I realized there wasn’t a single young man in sight.

I stopped an old man carrying an axe and asked him,

“The village seems short on people. What happened?”

The old man mistook me for a noble—well, I am one—and bowed deeply before replying,

“Recently, the lords took all the able-bodied men, saying they needed them to subjugate that dark mage.

But soon enough, that cursed wretch will be dealt with…”

The man seemed eager for conversation, thrilled to have someone to talk to. He eagerly rambled on.

From his words, I learned that Johannes had become Emperor but was captured by Evan.

Evan was now holed up in the imperial capital, resisting fiercely.

Vivian and her followers were preparing to subjugate him, though it would take time.

There was only one thing to do.

Unlike Vivian, I had no attachment to anything outside what was precious to me.

I was born a noble, raised to believe in my superiority, and even in my ruined state, I did not deny it. The life of the old man before me held little value.

He mocked Evan in front of me, jeering that he would die soon. I shoved him, snatched his axe, and buried it in his chest.

For daring to insult a man of Strelitz blood, this much was acceptable.

Yes, it was fine.

I no longer wanted to be left spinning alone in this stagnant time.

Rather than letting the currents of time sweep me away, I resolved to swim against them—to move forward.

That day, more fled than I could catch, but I split the heads of the powerless—children, the elderly, and women—and offered them to the gods as sacrifices.

As described in the books, the deity was pleased and whispered its satisfaction to me as it accepted my offering.