episode_0125

“What are you going to do about this? You’re not just leaving it here, are you?”

Milen asked as she stared at the frozen-faced Yuria kneeling before the broken Holy Sword.

“Is she dead?”

“No. If she were, time would have already rewound before we even noticed.”

Of course, this wasn’t a certainty. Whether time in this world reset when the Hero or the Demon King died, or if they simply moved to a similar timeline—time had always been a fascinating topic, even in the Magic Tower, where it was frequently debated. But no definitive answer had ever been reached.

This time was no different. If the former scenario occurred, everything they had done so far would be undone.

“So you’re saying we couldn’t have killed this woman from the start.”

“Right. That would’ve just handed our enemy exactly what they wanted. If Yuria returned to the past, she’d never give me a chance to escape.”

If that happened, Arina and Ian would never meet again. And neither of them wanted that.

“So you’re just going to do nothing?”

“In the past, I might’ve wanted to pay her back for the pain she caused me. But I didn’t come here for revenge. I came to eliminate threats to the life ahead of me.”

Hatred had certainly been the driving force that kept her from giving up on life—but the years she spent consumed by it were nothing but painful, lonely torment.

Had she never met Ian, she would have been in agony now, despite having nearly accomplished her revenge.

Even if they were traitors, she had wounded and nearly killed the ones closest to her.

A solitary existence would have dragged her deeper into the abyss, severing even the last shred of possibility—had she been left at the end of those frayed bonds.

But not anymore. Now, Arina acted not out of stubborn obsession, but to secure a clear happiness.

She could never forgive her former comrades in the Hero’s party—but now, she could wash away the past and let those memories flow down the river of time.

Still, they would never let her go. That was why she had come to end this miserable fate herself.

“I’ll send Yuria to the Demon King, as per the terms of our previous contract. If the Demon King keeps their word, the war between humans and demons will end soon.”

Then all that would remain was a peaceful world and the rest of her happy life with Ian.

“That won’t do.”

A third voice interrupted at that moment.

Arina showed no surprise. She had expected someone to be watching from the shadows.

In fact, she had been certain of it.

“Pack Mule.”

It had taken far too long. Six years to reach him. By the time the year ended, it would be seven.

“Brave of you to show yourself. Do you not value your life?”

“With the rest of the Hero’s party gone, this is my last chance, isn’t it? And I can’t just let you sell Yuria to the Demon King.”

“You were hiding, but did you not hear? Yuria was planning to betray you. You still want to protect her?”

“That? What a cruel joke. Almost brought me to tears.”

Pack Mule didn’t even blink at the mention of Yuria’s betrayal. Far from being shocked or angry, he casually scratched the back of his head, utterly unfazed. His true thoughts remained indecipherable.

That aside, his intentions in revealing himself were obvious. With her magic exhausted from fighting the Hero’s party, he must have seen this as his only chance to turn the tables.

“Pathetic. You’d spare yourself the pain by ending your own life.”

“Can’t do that. Even if I’m just a Pack Mule, I’m still part of the Hero’s party. Like the others, I’ll show courage to the end.”

As he spoke, flames bloomed in Pack Mule’s palm—Leona’s fire. Arina recognized it instantly, having seen it hundreds of times before, and took a step back.

“Had an ace up your sleeve all this time? Doesn’t compare to the real thing, though.”

Arina had only a sliver of magic left, barely enough to coat one hand. After her battle with Yuria, this was all she could muster.

Pack Mule, wielding stolen flames—and Arina, squeezing out the last drops of her mana.

Under normal circumstances, Arina would never lose. But in this moment, the odds seemed against her.

And for Arina personally, this situation was needlessly stirring up trauma.

Twice already, she had been overpowered and toyed with when unable to use magic—subjected to brute strength.

So I have to—do this with my own power.

Ian couldn’t move, having exhausted all his mana. Milen, too, was worn out from her prolonged battle with the drakes.

There would be no reinforcements if she lost, yet Arina refused to summon her Guardian.

With my own hands—

I’ll shake off this nightmare. This time.

Pack Mule scattered flames. Unable to block properly, Arina dodged sideways.

Watching the fight, Ian couldn’t hide his agitation. Normally, he’d never doubt Arina’s victory—but now, she was exhausted from continuous battles.

If Arina loses—

He shook his head to dispel the ominous thought, forcing himself not to dwell on it. But his heart refused to calm.

Pack Mule, emptying his flames, exploited Arina’s evasion to close the gap. His hand shot toward her chest in a surprise strike.

“Got you!”

“Look ou—!”

Thud!

Before the warning could finish, the sound of impact landed faster.

Against all expectations, Pack Mule’s hand was caught in Arina’s grip—while her other fist smashed into his jaw.

Without hesitation, she unleashed a disciplined barrage of punches across his body.

Power-wise, without magic, she had been at a disadvantage—but in pure skill, Pack Mule was no match.

Arina relentlessly pummeled him. Even when he tried to counter, she blocked flawlessly.

His reckless charge had sealed his fate—now, he was only being beaten senseless.

Thump!

Arina’s kick slammed into his gut, sending him rolling across the ground.

“Now, shall we talk?”

“No words left. No excuses for what I did to you. Just kill me.”

Pack Mule’s eerily calm acceptance of death caught Arina off guard.

Given what she knew of him, he shouldn’t have surrendered so easily.

This couldn’t be the end. She hadn’t even repaid a tenth of the suffering he’d inflicted.

“Gah!”

She stomped on his leg, grinding it with enough force to break bone.

“If you knew it was wrong—why did you do it?”

“Nothing to say… Just finish it.”

“For whose sake? You have to pay too. Must’ve been fun, right? Toying with women, doing whatever you wanted—thinking you’d always get away with it.”

“I never touched just anyone… Only the ones I needed—Agh!”

This time, she crushed his arm under her foot.

“That’s harsh. Let me finish.”

“Bullshit. Then what about what I saw in that crystal orb? Was she just anyone?”

“She was a knight. I touched her because the Kingdom’s movements seemed suspicious. Believe me if I say we were trying to save you from the Kingdom? You struck first and ruined it.”

“You just wanted to claim me for yourselves.”

“Well, that’s not entirely wrong.”

The more they talked, the more irritable Arina became. His acceptance of death, his oddly compliant attitude, his blunt answers—none lined up with the man she knew.

The Pack Mule she remembered was far uglier—cowardly, arrogant, taunting to the very end.

That’s how he should have been. But here, at the finish line, he had changed.

Like when they first met.

“Fine. Any last words?”

A sharp ice blade pressed against Pack Mule’s throat. Even he gulped slightly at the cold steel, though his eyes were tightly shut in resignation.

Still, he spoke.

“What I did to you was unforgivable—but hear this one thing. Take care of my kid. The child’s innocent, right?”

“Your kid? That’s for the ones who made them to deal with. Why dump it on me?”

Confused, she questioned him—only for Pack Mule to tilt his head in confusion.

“What? I’m talking about our kid.”

“What the hell are you—?”

“Dad!”

Just then—a young boy rushed out from nowhere and clung to Pack Mule.

Even Pack Mule seemed stunned, eyes widening as he shouted.

“Hey! What are you doing here?”

“Dad, are you okay?”

“Not okay. Bruised all over. Hurts like hell.”

This boy hadn’t been at the mansion—Arina was certain. There had been no male children there.

The boy, seeing Pack Mule’s injuries, shielded him protectively—glaring at Arina.

“Miss… Stop hurting my dad! What did he even do?”

Trembling but stubborn, the boy spread his arms wide. Of course, to a child, their father was the strongest person in the world.

Seeing him brutally beaten—Arina would seem terrifying.

But that wasn’t the issue.

The boy’s face looked eerily familiar. And Pack Mule’s words just now—those two things hinted at something inconceivable.

An impossible, gut-wrenching realization crept over her.

“‘Miss?’ I’m your mom. Cut the nonsense. Come here. You’ll just make her hate you.”

Pack Mule’s final confirmation landed like a hammer blow.

The boy studied Arina’s face—then tilted his head.

“Mom?”

A creeping chill surged through her. Now that she looked—the boy resembled her as a child. Only the black hair matched Pack Mule’s.

“D-Don’t lie! Is he Linia or Libia’s son? Trying to trick me again?”

If the boy belonged to one of the sisters, resembling her childhood self wouldn’t be strange.

Having no memory of bearing a child, Arina grasped at the most logical explanation.

This had to be Pack Mule’s final scheme—to shake her.

But Pack Mule only looked genuinely baffled.

“You… really forgot our kid? Just check his mana. You’ll know.”

Something even family couldn’t share: Arina’s mutated mana capacity. Neither Linia nor Libia—ordinary humans—possessed it.

And neither should their children.

From the moment she saw him, she’d sensed it—the boy’s mana was at a level only her child could have.

But she refused to believe it.

“N-No! That’s impossible… It can’t be!”

Arina desperately denied the scene before her. Milen voiced agreement.

“You forgot giving birth? Even if you did, Natishan’s elixir restored your missing memories. Shouldn’t this have come back too?”

“That potion healed status ailments. If Lian forced herself to forget—those memories might not have returned. That explains it. That’s why he suddenly fled.”

“Then—”

The implication was too horrific. Milen covered her mouth.

Not just raped by her enemy—but made to bear his child. And now, after years of revenge, she stood blocked by that very child, with no memory of it.

Arina clutched her head. No memory—but she couldn’t deny it. Pack Mule’s words held no gaps for lies.

Staggering, she moved toward Ian.

“Arina… Are you okay?”

Ian asked worriedly, but she couldn’t answer.

“Ian… What year is it?”

“You’ve been living without even knowing the year?”

Still shaken, Milen raised her voice.

“Well—”

Well, she’d had no reason to keep track. Unless in a palace or noble’s office, there were few chances to see calendars.

Arina had always kept her distance from others. Even recently, while meeting more people, dates had never come up.

Ian hesitated—but there was no choice.

“…Imperial Year 417, December 22. It’ll soon be 418.”

“That’s… impossible.”

By her memory, this should have been Imperial Year 416. Somehow—time had skipped forward an entire year.

“Ugh!”

A headache struck. Her brain, realizing the missing memories, began forcibly retrieving them.

[Pack Mule. Just let me go now. Please?]

A nonexistent memory surfaced—after a heated encounter in bed. Still not allowed to dress, Arina knelt before him, pleading.

So broken, she couldn’t even meet his eyes.

[You’ve had your fun—with my body, my mind. Just let me leave. I won’t even dream of revenge. I’ll live quietly. Please.]

Her past self was pitiful—a slave begging her master for mercy, crushed by her own helplessness.

[Still saying that? Thought you’d have given in by now. Honestly, you’re hopeless.]

Pack Mule pushed her naked form down and took her again.

Arina didn’t resist—only begged.

[Birth control… please.]

[No. I’ll keep going until you’re pregnant.]

With her spirit unbroken, he sought to bind her with a child.

[N-No… You’re joking. Stop.]

Without the usual contraceptive spell, his release flooded her womb.

Realizing he was serious, Arina finally fought back.

[Stop! Stop! Let me go! Please!]

(First time.)

“Ah—”

[No more… Just stop. I’ll really get pregnant…]

(Second time.)

“Ahh—”

[No! Stop! I don’t want your child! Never! Please! Don’t come inside—!!!]

(Third time.)

Each violation made her screams more desperate. Yet Pack Mule never relented.

[Urk.]

When morning sickness first hit—the moment she realized she was pregnant—Arina wept like never before.

Like a newborn, she wailed uncontrollably.

Like someone who had lost the world.

Now, with her memories restored—she felt that same agony again.

“Ahhh—AHHHHHHHHHHH!!”