episode_0098

Snort.

The moment I opened the book, I couldn’t help but scoff. Whoever had made me read this clearly had no intention of letting the illusions I’d experienced remain mere illusions.

– Eric Grave speaks. – Cecilia Roustal begins to speak in panic. – Kristin Grave uses magic.

Every single thing from that world—the one I’d dismissed as a delusion—was meticulously written out, sentence by sentence. And with each line I absorbed, vivid memories surged back as if I’d just lived through them moments ago.

The humiliation and neglect of the first iteration, and even the world of the second.

“Not my problem.”

I deliberately raised my voice. There was no one around to hear, but for some reason, I felt compelled to say it.

– Eric Grave loses consciousness.

The book I held ended abruptly, cutting off unnaturally mid-sentence. The moment I saw it, one thing became crystal clear: whoever sent this had a seriously twisted sense of humor.

If they disliked me wandering in this illusory world, they could’ve just chosen another method.

A being powerful enough to exert this level of influence even within an illusion—sure, a few candidates came to mind, but I dismissed the thought. If they had this kind of power to spare, they’d have lent it to others long ago. There was no way a goddess would gamble on someone like me.

“Ugh…”

But the more I thought about it, no one else fit the bill besides the goddess. Was she finally taking responsibility for the sin of abandoning me in the first iteration? The fact that she’d go this far for me—while leaving her own saintess, the one who should’ve been her most devout believer, to fend for herself—irritated me to no end. Not that Cecilia had any intention of upholding her so-called faith. After witnessing my suffering and still refusing to intervene, the goddess’ credibility had already hit rock bottom.

“Must be tough for her too.”

Not that I sympathized, but having read the original, I knew the goddess had her own circumstances. Quietly, I acknowledged her struggles.

But that was that, and this was this.

Like an idiot, I stood frozen, still gripping the book.

I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away—and the goddess knew I’d agonize over it. That’s why she intervened.

She knew that once I saw this, I wouldn’t be able to walk away. She knew I despised those who caused chaos and then fled.

“Damn it… damn it.”

I kept cursing under my breath, but nothing changed. The more I recalled the memories from the book’s world, the heavier my pocket felt. And it wasn’t hard to guess what was inside. The moment I grabbed it, the world I’d thought was an illusion and the real one would flip.

After all, the reason I’d ended up in this world in the first place was because I’d failed to properly use the holy grail in my pocket.

I felt sick, but turning back now, pretending I’d seen nothing, would’ve felt even worse.

I stared at the book again, then lifted my head to scan my room—the cutting-edge TV, the plush bed, every luxury within arm’s reach. All of it, the happiness I’d earned through relentless effort, the life I rightfully deserved. And now I was supposed to give it all up?

Return to that world where I couldn’t confide in anyone, where no one acknowledged me, where I had to suffer alone?

“The second I get back, I’m tearing that damn church apart.”

Muttering empty threats to myself, I gently turned the page. There was no need to write anything—my body was already enveloped in that familiar, weightless sensation.

——–

Returning was surprisingly simple. And fast.

“…!”

Before anyone in the room could react, I swiftly—

Thud.

—finished what I had to do. Should’ve done this sooner.

“H-how…?”

“Who knows? Guess the one watching my back decided to care about me a little more than you.”

“Mother…?! No way! Not now, of all times—!”

“Mother? Oh.”

The goddess had named every sacred relic, including Fairchild, and sent them down to this continent. Yet she’d shown no interest in the artifacts she’d created or the humans who wielded them, leaving them to their own devices. So Fairchild’s reaction wasn’t entirely unreasonable.

Even if restrictions were in place, it wasn’t fair to resent her—but after doing nothing all this time, why intervene now, of all moments, for—

“Brother!”

“Eric! You’re awake? But how—”

“Explanations later. First, I need to finish this conversation.”

I drove the holy grail deeper into Fairchild’s body and slowly stepped back.

“That was supposed to be a perfect illusion! No matter how powerful the goddess is, there’s no way you could’ve broken free so easily!”

Fairchild’s body began melting the moment the grail pierced it. Even as their form dissolved into particles, they kept questioning me.

“Why? How…?”

“True, even with the goddess’ help, it shouldn’t have been that easy to escape. I’ll admit—I almost fell for it myself.”

Fairchild’s illusion was a flawless, self-contained world. If it had been a simple, dreamlike utopia like the ones used to deceive others, breaking free would’ve been trivial. That’s why I’d been so confident when I first boasted to Cecilia and Kris.

But contrary to my expectations, Fairchild had crafted a “reality” so convincing it could’ve passed for the real thing.

“That’s how I knew. It was too perfect. Even that lazy goddess realized she had to step in before things got worse.”

“Mother intervened…? Over something as trivial as a Demon King?”

“‘Trivial’? The Demon Kings would be offended. But I agree with you wholeheartedly.”

The goddess these people worshipped so devoutly was the same one who’d never batted an eye no matter how many humans died or demons burned alive, content to haphazardly distribute divine power.

“Under normal circumstances, the continent wouldn’t change just because one prophet died. Which means this situation is serious. So let’s go back to the beginning.”

Fairchild’s lower half had already vanished, their upper body now dissolving diagonally.

“What do you even know? That world I showed you—no matter how well you mimicked me, you couldn’t have recreated it just by reading memories. What do you know?”

“Ah, so that’s it.”

Instead of answering, Fairchild grinned.

“What?”

“Sorry, but I can’t answer that. If this Demon King truly is a calamity unlike any before, and if Eric Grave’s absence fundamentally threatens Mother’s existence… Ha, haha! No wonder.”

Crack.

Mid-ramble, Fairchild suddenly burst into mad laughter as the wall behind them began to fracture.

“Brother! The church’s barrier—!”

“Fairchild’s overloading their power! It won’t hold! We have to leave now!”

“W-wait! I still have questions—!”

Fairchild waved a hand dismissively.

“True. It’d be cowardly to run without saying anything, so here’s a clue. You said the goddess helped you? Well, that’s probably because I got help from the Demon King.”

Just like when we’d entered, Kristin half-dragged me away. It felt less like teleportation and more like being hauled like luggage, but right now, every word from Fairchild mattered more.

“Just as the goddess is deeply interested in you, the Demon King is too. The reason I could craft such a perfect illusion was because after mimicking you, I received her help.”

The sound of crumbling stone made my head throb. The Demon King knows about me? Since when? Why?

Did they figure out the regression artifact? Or did they notice something else?

“Hm, just as I thought. Knew this’d keep you moving. It’s a shame to disappear like this, but for a defective product with a sense of self, this is a pretty luxurious way to go.”

“Don’t screw with me! You don’t get to peace out on your own terms!”

If the Demon King already knows about me, I’ll have to adjust my plans. First, help Elia seize the empire faster, then secure the holy sword—

“Brother, sorry! No time! You can scold me all you want later!”

Kristin hauled me away as Cecilia swiftly cast protective magic—just as the vault collapsed behind us.