First Point (4)

“Elder, if I may be so bold, may I ask you something?”

The white-haired old man took a calm sip of his tea before answering. “No trouble at all. Go ahead.”

“…Why did you stop him from going to the sanctuary? With my limited insight, I simply cannot understand it.”

“What part don’t you understand?”

At the old man’s question, the man in the wolf mask replied.

“As a result of him going to the sanctuary, the Rank-7 explorer Brown Rotmiller died, and instead, Sven Parav became a ‘Saint.’ Well, not a complete one yet, of course.”

“Hmm?”

“In the end, he lost a useless guide and gained a far more helpful companion for his journey. So, I’m curious—why did you tell him not to go to the sanctuary?”

“Ah, that’s what you meant…”

The old man smiled kindly. But if one looked closely, there was a mischievous glint in his eyes, like that of a playful child.

“It wouldn’t be fun if I just told you.”

“…Pardon?”

“Think about it yourself. Why do you think I did that?”

Faced with the counter-question, the wolf masked man pondered briefly before speaking.

“I believe there are three possible reasons.”

“Let’s hear them.”

“First, you predicted how he would act.”

“I knew he’d do the opposite of whatever I told him, so I told him not to go to the holy land—that’s wrong. If that were true, why would I send you to give him pointless advice? He would’ve gone there on his own, even if I’d done nothing.”

“Ah, true. I did find that part questionable as well.”

“Then, the second?”

“The second is… that no matter which path he chose, Brown Rotmiller would have died.”

“Oh?”

“Of course, that doesn’t explain why you tried to send him to District Seven, but I’d guess it’s because you didn’t want Sven Parav to become a Saint.”

“Interesting. Go on.”

“You once said it yourself—that Sven Parav was a soul born with divine potential. One so strong that it even allows an evil god he’s never contracted with to speak to him.”

“So maybe you didn’t want Sven Parav to hold the hand of the Evil God. In a way, a Priest of Karui is even more powerful than a Saint. Ultimately, it would have been just as helpful for his journey.”

A proud smile spread across the old man’s face. “I’m glad I asked for your thoughts. That was a very perceptive observation.”

“Does that mean I’m wrong again?”

“You’re wrong. If he had gone to District 7, Sven Parab would have died.”

“I see…”

The wolf masked man continued in a dejected voice, as if he had missed a test question.

“My third possibility is that Brown Rottmiller was more valuable than Sven Parab as a Saint…”

Even as he said it, the idea seemed absurd.

How could a retired, Rank-7 former scout possibly be more valuable than a paladin on the verge of becoming a Saint?

“Correct.”

“…What?”

“I judged that, for his journey, Brown Rotmiller would have been far more helpful.”

The wolf masked man couldn’t understand.

Still, based on his experience observing countless fates alongside the old man, he offered another guess.

“…Then Sven Parav must have been a negative influence on his journey.”

He spoke with conviction.

That was the only explanation that made sense. The blessing would, in truth, be a curse. Such cases weren’t rare—after all, fate was a fickle and inscrutable beast.

“Wrong yet again.”

“…What?”

The wolf-masked man let out an involuntary, strangled sound, and the elder turned to look out the window.

“Sven Parab will contribute to his journey exactly as much as we expect.”

“Even so… you chose Brown Rotmiller over him.”

“Judging a person’s future solely by their present is a very foolish thing to do. Greatness is born from effort, not origin. This is a world where even a beggar can become a king.”

“…Then did Rotmiller possess that much talent?”

At such simplistic thinking, the old man chuckled and shook his head.

“He had no such talent. But all value is determined by how they are recorded.”

He continued in a voice tinged with deep regret.

“If Brown Rotmiller had survived, he could have left a much greater mark upon this world.”

Of course, that future no longer existed.

***

To me, it felt like I’d only blinked once.

That’s why it feels so unreal.

I didn’t see or experience any of it firsthand. I only heard about everything after it was over. I couldn’t shake the lingering hope that they might have been wrong about some of it.

[Take good care of Miss Shabin. She’s a good woman.]

But it was all real.

Aynar Pheneline had been captured as a prisoner, and Brown Rotmiller—my first scout—was dead.

That was the unchanging reality.

So—

Crunch.

I clenched my fist.

What on earth went wrong?

Before I went to the sanctuary, Wolf told me that if I went to District Seven, A would die, and if I went to the sanctuary, A would die. That was why I assumed X would be Rotmiller.

After all, I went to the sanctuary and managed to save A—Rotmiller—who had been in danger.

So B… was Rotmiller?

As a result of going to the sanctuary, Rotmiller died.

There was no point in indulging in useless lines of thought, like blaming myself for having practically killed him with that choice. I know what I can and cannot do.

I’m not the type to blame myself for failing at something beyond my control.

Yes. That’s how it should be.

But then, what is this godawful feeling?

The violence etched deep into my savage body began to boil.

I wanted to fight. So I don’t have to think about anything. I wanted to smash everything in my sight.

But I endureed it. The barbarian body I now inhabited was different from Hansu Lee’s. A moment of anger would not end with just a broken mouse and keyboard.

A wise warrior had to know when to fight and when to unleash his emotions.

Rustle.

At that moment, someone pulled aside the tent flap and entered.

It was a welcome face: Alluva Raven

But something was wrong.

The moment our eyes met, Raven froze at the entrance.

Her complexion was pale, and her small, white body was trembling like a leaf.

What? Did something bad happen to her?

Just as the rage I had barely suppressed began to flare again—

“…I-I’m sorry.”

Then I saw Raven avoid my gaze, and I understood what had happened.

She was afraid of me.

“I—I’ll step outside. Until you’ve calmed down…”

I let out a deep breath, as though purging the poison that had built up inside me, and stopped Raven as she panicked and tried to leave the barracks. “Don’t go. I’ve calmed down now.”

She cautiously looked back at me and sighed in relief when she saw that my expression had softened somewhat.

Then—

“I heard about what happened.”

After hesitating for a long time about what to say, she managed those words of comfort.

I didn’t give any answer.

I felt like the rage I’d managed to suppress might boil over again.

However, there was one thing I had to ask.

“Do you know what happened to Rottmiller’s body?”

“I… I think it would be better if you didn’t hear that…”

“Don’t worry about it, just tell me. I told you I’ve calmed down.”

“Uh… I-I really think it’s better if you don’t hear…”

“I said it’s fine.”

Raven looked at me with eyes that said I didn’t look fine at all and kept her mouth shut until the end. Eventually, the answer to my question came from outside the tent.

“The Noark soldiers took his head. Once he’s confirmed as your ally, it’ll be recognized as an achievement.”

Badump

“It seems you were planning to use the Stone of Revival, but unfortunately, it won’t work.”

My heart started racing.

My heart was pounding so fast that I wondered whether it was even healthy.

I clenched my jaw so tightly that I thought my teeth might crack.

“And could you do something about that killing intent? I’m fine, but she is about to pass out.”

Seeing Raven tremble again, I forced myself to calm down and changed the subject.

“What happened to you guys? Where is Viviane now?”
‘
“After you disappeared while fighting the Corpse Collector, the commander of Orcules appeared. There was a battle…”

“…And?”

“Long story short, we retreated first.”

“…What?”

“Let me correct that. We didn’t run away. We withdrew at the appropriate time.” He went on to say it was to protect Raven, and that if the fight had been fair, he would have won. In the end, though, only Astarotta knew the truth.

Anyway, the rest was simple.

The commander initially came looking for me. However, once he realized that Astarrota was the king’s knight, he changed his target.

While the commander pursued Astarotta, I escaped the Netherworld just in time. After losing his tail, Astarotta made his way to the imperial capital to recover from his injuries.

As for Vivian—she was thrown into prison.

“She’s useless now anyway. I considered executing her, but decided to keep her alive just in case.”

After regrouping, he considered searching for me so we could reunite, but the ancient magic erased my trail. Later, he heard that I had entered the imperial capital unconscious and hurried over to check on me.

“Now that that’s settled, I want to ask you something. Where will you go now?”

At Astarotta’s question, I closed my eyes for a moment.

What should I do now?

It didn’t take long to make a decision.

“First… we have to save Aynar”

“I see.”

Astarotta nodded at my decision and asked back:

“But how?”

I didn’t respond.

Right. It means I have to secure information first.

“Astarotta, I have a favor to ask.”

“Speak.”

“Even if it’s only the areas within the Royal Family’s reach, could you find and gather my scattered allies?”

“No need to even ask. That is already in progress.”

“I see…”

Although he usually seemed rigid and inflexible, he was smart in how he handled his work.

“If you need anything else, or once you’ve settled on a plan, call for me.”

With that, Astarotta left the tent again. I sat quietly on the edge going over everything I’d been told to see if I’d missed anything. Every few minutes, I called Astarota to check for any new information.

Where was Aynar?

If more of my allies had been dropped into the heart of enemy territory.

In a situation like this, there was no choice but to rely on the army’s intelligence network. Just as my heart was growing restless from the lack of new information-

“…Wait. Hold on.”

The information I had been desperately searching for came from a place I never would have expected.

Thinking about the Marquis made me think of Ragna. Thinking of Ragna led me to Hyunbyeol, who had served as her right-hand.

And once I thought of Hyunbyeol, I remembered the ‘Love Paper’ she had given me a while ago.

I hurriedly pulled out the Love Paper, and sure enough, words were written on it.

The contents could be summarized in just two lines:

[Aynar Pheneline — Arminas Central Bank, Underground Vault]

Aynar’s presumed current location.

And…

[Scheduled for Execution]

Her current fate.

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