episode_0078

“Most prophets couldn’t resist their curiosity and peeked into their own futures. And the result—well, you all know what happened, don’t you?”

The Empire’s long history stands as proof.

Prophets who sought to exploit their visions for personal gain soon found themselves tormented by the very futures their greed had wrought, watching their own ruin unfold day after day—enough to shatter their minds.

Of course, there were also those who did not use prophecy for selfish ends.

They either died as lonely martyrs or went mad because no one believed their prophecies—one or the other.

And as for me? Fortunately, I’m still teetering precariously between the two.

“The more prophecies I make, the more people will target me, and the higher the world’s threat assessment of me will rise. The constraints placed on me will grow just as much. To put it simply, the fewer people who know the future I speak of, the better.”

Seeing the blank looks on everyone’s faces, I decided to explain in a bit more detail.

Of course, the so-called “penalty” I’m describing now is entirely different from the actual trials I bear. But by continuously emphasizing the dangers of my prophecies like this, people will naturally become less inclined to approach me on a personal or emotional level.

“So, the fewer people who know you, the better—is that it?”

“Yeah. Even if it’s not a large number, the more people act on my words, the more the future twists, and the stronger my constraints become. Especially you guys—you’re smarter than most, aren’t you?”

“Hmm, well, obviously.”

Elia readily agreed. It was a bit obnoxious, but she said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world—and she wasn’t wrong. I shot her a sidelong glance before continuing.

“No matter how small the prophecy I give, the risk of you changing the world with it is too great. If I mention someone’s name, you’d investigate them thoroughly—enough to completely alter the future.”

Unlike ordinary people, the four gathered here possess the wisdom to know what to do even with my garbled prophecies—and, more importantly, the ability to act on the plans they conceive.

“So, don’t get too entangled with the prophecies I make or with me personally. The more you know about the future—or the closer you get to me—the heavier my constraints will become.”

“…Listening to Eric, one thing occurs to me. Isn’t this excessively harsh?”

“Harsh? What do you mean?”

“Setting aside the question of what kind of axiomatic reasoning the Goddess employs, no matter how I look at it, your constraints seem far too convenient.”

“Convenient? You’re saying that after seeing the state I’m in?”

I said it jokingly, but Lucilla remained stiff.

“By definition, a blessing is called such because it benefits the recipient in some way. If what you say is true—that even someone more credible than you would be cursed with such constraints upon receiving the gift of prophecy—then it’s nothing more than a curse.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“This prophecy you wield—is it truly a blessing bestowed by the Goddess?”

“…What kind of nonsense is that?”

A cold sweat ran down my back. What exactly was Lucilla implying?

“I mean exactly what I said.”

Lucilla stared straight at me, as if waiting for an answer. Her expression was calm, as though she had said all she needed to, but my mind had already gone blank.

How much does she know? Is she saying I’ve been lying?

If so, when did she figure it out?

Does she know about my regression?

No—if she did, she wouldn’t have phrased it like this. If she had suspicions, she wouldn’t beat around the bush or play mind games.

That wasn’t the Lucilla I knew.

Which meant her doubts were purely that—doubts.

“…Hah.”

Lucilla hadn’t noticed anything yet. The moment I realized that, though caution was still necessary, I felt an immediate sense of relief.

“So… you’re asking what good this blessing has done for me?”

Lucilla nodded.

“You want to know what’s so great about gaining the power of prophecy… when you, of all people, should know better?”

“Huh?”

I deliberately smirked and spread my arms wide.

“Meeting you guys is already the greatest luck I could’ve asked for.”

“Ugh. Hearing a man like you say that is utterly disgusting.”

“Hey, watch your mouth!”

“Elia, let’s save the comedy for later.”

“Hmph.”

“I’m not joking—I’m serious. Think about it. If I didn’t have the power of prophecy, how could I even be talking to you all like this?”

Of course, even if I hadn’t possessed Eric Grave, even if the original Eric hadn’t regressed, there were people he could’ve grown close to.

Chris, obviously. Cecil and Elia might’ve crossed paths with him a few times, too. But—

“Every word I say moves you, stirs your emotions, and ultimately changes the world. If that’s not a blessing, what is?”

None of them would’ve ever spoken to the original me like this.

“Are you truly so narcissistic?”

“Of course. In fact, don’t you think it’s the perfect balance? The more I use my blessing, the more I’m cursed—sounds fair, doesn’t it?”

Though not prophecy, my knowledge of this “original story” was the sole thread connecting me to this world.

It allowed me to blend in, to perfectly play the role of Eric Grave.

In that sense, maybe it really was a blessing. Not that I planned to tell them that.

“That’s absurd!”

BANG!

Cecil, who had been quietly listening until now, slammed her fist on the table.

“Whoa, calm down, sis.”

Chris patted her shoulder, looking amused.

Then again, she already knew I was lying. She was probably itching to test my so-called “advice” right this second.

“But all you’ve been doing this whole time is boasting about yourself, talking about balance and spouting nonsense!”

“The fewer people who know the prophet and the prophecies, the better—yet those prophecies inevitably make the prophet the most important person to them. Seems like a fair trade to me.”

“Was that trade your choice?”

“What?”

Cecil’s eyes burned as she stared at me.

“That prophecy of yours—did you ask for it? No, I’m asking about everything you’ve done up to now. Was any of it truly your choice?”

“Are you insane? Of course not.”

Regression? If Lucilla and the others had just defeated the Demon King from the start, it wouldn’t have been necessary.

No—this entire possession was nothing short of a disaster for me.

A carefree life in another world?

I don’t need it. With billions already in my account, a life far more comfortable than this medieval existence was waiting for me.

New bonds with people?

Pure agony. The only reason I’m standing here facing them now is because of the chairman’s advice.

From start to finish, I’ve been dragged through this world against my will.

“Listen well! Not once—not a single time—have I ever chosen this power of prophecy or anything that’s happened to me.”

“……”

“To think… it was like this from the start.”

“Worse than I imagined.”

“Well, it makes sense. I get it.”

They all understood.

But that wasn’t enough.

What they needed now wasn’t resignation or regret—it was the courage to move forward.

“But! At the very least, this moment right here is undeniably my choice. I’m asking for your help because I want to.”

There’s no way I can defeat the Demon King alone.

“Most futures where I survive are few and far between, and having to see them is painful… but it can’t be helped. This is my choice now. I’ll endure, even if it means becoming a monster.”

Hiding the truth from everyone, deceiving them under the guise of prophecy, or even erasing my existence entirely and lying low until the Demon King’s rule was declared—

I rejected every possible alternative right here, right now.

Even if this world is miserable, even if I want to escape it immediately, life in this Empire isn’t so unstable that tomorrow itself is uncertain.

The Demon King? If things go like the original, it’ll end with just ceding some land—okay, a lot of land.

In the original, the Demon King’s main goal was securing territory for his people.

Of course, with the displaced refugees now refusing to accept what’s essentially a defeat, that’s impossible at the moment.

But it’s not an impossible future.

The fact that I went as far as regressing, cursed the Goddess, and struggled to survive like this—that’s my choice.

“Yeah. It’d be meaningless.”

If I break here, if I compromise, then everything I’ve done until now loses all meaning.

I can’t let that happen.