Ereneth instinctively covered her mouth.

Eyes wide, she muttered in a flustered voice.

"Why... why is the name of the Duke of Fenris..."

He called Astion Ghislain?

Up until now, she had no memory of that. That’s why, even when she first met the Duke of Fenris, she hadn’t associated him with Astion.

Because he had been a complete stranger.

But now, her memories felt tangled and jumbled.

As the past blurred, new recollections surfaced. It was like suddenly remembering something she had forgotten.

It made no sense. She was an elf who had surpassed the realm of transcendence.

With the elves’ inherent memory and the senses of a transcendent layered on top, there was almost no possibility of her misremembering anything.

Ereneth clenched her teeth and forcibly tried to recall her past memories.

Yes, so then...

'When we first met the Julien Mercenary Corps...'

Back then, the Julien Mercenary Corps had been nothing more than a group of greenhorns.

Honestly, they were closer to a band of wandering adventurers than a real mercenary corps.

Even registering as a mercenary group had just been a formal step to make their activities more convenient.

They happened to rescue an elf who had been kidnapped. Thanks to that merit, they were invited to the Elven Forest.

That incident allowed the Julien Mercenary Corps to remain in the forest for a time.

There, under Iralniel's guidance, the Julien Mercenary Corps grew significantly stronger.

Especially Julien, who eventually became able to command spirits. Because of that, the elves began to look even more favorably upon them.

'...They were good people.'

The elves had always rejected humans, but the Julien Mercenary Corps had been an exception.

They weren’t ill-hearted, and Iralniel had acknowledged them.

While the Julien Mercenary Corps stayed in the forest, even the Elven Forest itself grew livelier. But that peace didn’t last long.

'...The Salvation Order.'

It was because Rahamod, the prophet of the Salvation Order, invaded the Elven Forest with a massive force of orcs and dark mages.

The Salvation Order had prepared their invasion for a long time, and the elves were crushed in an instant.

At the final moment, Iralniel gave Ereneth the seed of the World Tree. To Deneb, she entrusted the race’s Blessing Stone.

Then she opened a path for the Julien Mercenary Corps and Ereneth to escape.

On that day, the Elven Forest was destroyed. Iralniel also lost her life.

After barely escaping, they met the pope's delegation.

'Lionel.'

Lionel had been among the pope’s delegation. He tried to take the Blessing Stone from Deneb.

But Deneb didn’t hand it over easily—after all, it had been given to her by Iralniel at the cost of her life.

In the end, Lionel followed the Julien Mercenary Corps, trying to persuade Deneb.

The Julien Mercenary Corps then headed to the dwarves. They predicted the Salvation Order would attack there next.

But Vallscrum fell ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) even more hopelessly than the Elven Forest.

'...Because of Torvalt.'

The dwarven prince who had stolen the royal treasure Gramdir and run away.

Once Grondal found out, he personally left Vallscrum to catch Torvalt.

By the time he returned after hearing the news, Vallscrum had already been reduced to ash.

The Eternal Forge was destroyed, but fortunately, the Salvation Order hadn’t managed to retrieve the Sacred Stone.

Grondal, who had barely recovered the Sacred Stone from the ruins, eventually passed it on to the Saintess.

Afterward, he became an avatar of vengeance and fought against the Salvation Order for the rest of his life.

'Torvalt...'

Torvalt had coincidentally run into the Julien Mercenary Corps and joined them. Upon learning what had happened to Vallscrum, he lived the rest of his life drowning in guilt.

Just like Grondal, he sought revenge.

He never let go of Gramdir, the only remaining treasure from the fallen Vallscrum. He had tried to grow stronger by learning swordsmanship from Julien and Kyle.

He became a rare dwarf who wielded a sword, and in the end, he reached transcendence and made his mark during the Great War.

But even though their paths had crossed in the Great War, Grondal and Torvalt never exchanged a single word until the day they died.

'And then...'

Ereneth suddenly clutched her head. The memories beyond that point had become hazy.

No, to be precise, other memories—and unfamiliar emotions—were beginning to tangle in, one by one.

Were these really her own past experiences?

She began to doubt.

Everything felt unfamiliar. As if she were peering into someone else’s life.

Was this the kind of distance an audience felt watching a play?

Drip...

Blood began to fall from the tip of her nose.

"High Chief!"

"What’s wrong?!"

The startled elves rushed over to her in alarm.

Ereneth stretched out a hand to stop them.

She continued to concentrate, working to untangle the mess inside her mind.

'...The Elven Forest.'

It hadn’t been destroyed.

The Julien Mercenary Corps hadn’t rescued the elves and been invited to the forest. They had come as the pope’s delegation but were refused entry.

Then that lunatic named Astion snuck into the forest—to steal the Blessing Stone.

But in the end, thanks to the Julien Mercenary Corps’ help, they managed to fend off the Salvation Order’s invasion.

Although Iralniel had drained her life force and grown weak, what mattered was that she survived.

After that, Ereneth, with Iralniel’s permission, joined the Julien Mercenary Corps.

'...Vallscrum.'

It hadn’t been destroyed either.

Once again, the Julien Mercenary Corps had helped the dwarves.

Grondal and the Julien Mercenary Corps successfully repelled the Salvation Order’s invasion.

And from that war, humanity gained the great existence known as the Saintess.

Torvalt didn’t wander the continent as a fugitive—instead, he returned to Vallscrum and grew as a warrior.

Yes, this is the correct memory.

Thanks to the Julien Mercenary Corps... everything went well and led to good results—this is the memory.

Ereneth was certain of it.

Then what had she mistaken?

What were those previous memories?

'No...'

Her body began to tremble slightly.

The Saintess hadn’t awakened in Vallscrum.

Her awakening happened even later.

Somewhere else, on a different battlefield.

The memories were merging and distorting in fragments. Even the timeline didn’t make sense.

Something was entangled.

Where had the previous memories come from?

What was fake, and what was real?

Ereneth slowly lifted her head and looked up at the sky. Then she looked around.

It felt unnatural.

Suddenly, this world felt so awkward it was almost eerie.

As if she alone had become something alien to this world.

And yet she was someone who had already attained harmony with the world and reached transcendence.

— "Sister! It’s me, Astion!"

'...'

— "Sis, I know all about you! I remember you said you’d date me!"

'...Astion?'

In that sudden memory, Ereneth felt shaken.

The Astion she knew had always been a sensitive and irritable man.

He had never been friendly to anyone, nor was he particularly kind. He was always just a cranky mage plagued by headaches.

He had never shown such a foolish side. 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

And yet...

Why did that version of him feel more affectionate, more endearing?

Unknowingly, Ereneth smiled and shed tears.

'Ghislain...'

Why had she called Astion Ghislain?

She was confused.

Her mind was still a mess of twisted thoughts.

Unfamiliar memories and never-felt emotions kept washing over her.

The past she had believed to be true was becoming increasingly foreign.

Then, she came to a realization.

That all this strangeness had begun after the Duke of Fenris collapsed.

'He definitely...'

After seeing the heart of the Demon Realm—at the center of the Forest of Beasts—he had asked her,

— "You said you used to act alongside the Saintess, right?"

— "Yeah."

— "The Saintess said she met me before. That she’d meet me again. Then... have you met me before, too?"

— "Are you insane?"

— "..."

— "The Saintess and I fought together a thousand years ago. So how the hell would you have met her?"

Yes, that was definitely the conversation they’d had.

At that moment, Ereneth felt a chill run down her spine.

Inside the Duke of Fenris’s unconscious mind, there had been a ‘door’ made of divine power.

She didn’t know exactly what it was.

But she could guess that the Duke of Fenris’s consciousness had been pulled into it.

‘Could that be...’

If he really met the Saintess...

If we truly met a thousand years ago...

Then the memories surfacing now...

Ereneth muttered in a dazed voice.

"Ghislain... you really are..."

***

"Ghislain! You're really amazing!"

Ereneth wrapped her arms around Ghislain’s neck from behind with a laugh. But Ghislain shook his body vigorously with a disinterested expression.

"Get off. It's hot."

At Ghislain’s indifferent response, Ereneth pouted and furrowed her brow.

She truly thought Ghislain was amazing.

They had won even this battle that she had believed to be completely unwinnable in the beginning.

Especially the way he had deployed their comrades across the field to minimize casualties—it had been a completely unexpected strategy.

Such a bold move was likely something only Ghislain could have thought of and executed.

The more she looked at him, the more impressive he became. That was why she complimented him—but to be met with that indifferent reaction!

'Strange. I heard human men like it when you do this?'

She had definitely heard that humans enjoyed it when elves clung to them. She had even read it in storybooks.

But reality was entirely different. Ghislain didn’t seem the least bit interested in her beauty.

Yet that other personality, ‘Astion,’ had been totally smitten with her.

As Ereneth sulked, Osvald, who was packing nearby, clicked his tongue.

"tsk tsk, you can’t just throw yourself at someone relying on your looks. Have you already forgotten what Lady Iralniel said? That appearances aren’t what matter?"

"......Huh?"

Ereneth looked utterly baffled.

She had only done it because she wanted to get closer to Ghislain. She had simply applied what she’d learned about humans.

No, regardless of her intent... to hear that looks weren’t everything from the guy who’d made a fuss over Julien’s appearance—she was speechless.

But Osvald didn’t care and turned to Kyle, who was also packing.

"Brother, isn’t it strange when you think about it? I just realized something revolutionary after looking at Sister Ereneth."

"...What is it this time?"

"When you earn a lot of money, you pay more taxes, right? Everyone says that's fair."

"...Right?"

"Then why don't pretty and handsome people pay any taxes? Shouldn’t there be a beauty tax to make things fair? Especially elves—they should pay several times more."

"......"

"Right? Wouldn’t that be fair? Huh? What do you think, Brother?"

"...I don’t know, stuff like that."

"tsk tsk tsk, this is exactly why we need ideological reform and revolution. If I had any power, I’d lock everyone up and..."

As Osvald’s speech turned more extreme, Ereneth and Kyle both made sour faces.

That guy always ranted about seizing and revolting, but his words were sounding more and more dangerous.

Osvald, indifferent to their reactions, kept mumbling to himself.

"A revolution is necessary... I need to gather people who think like me and arm them with spears... Right, I should write all this down. Someday I’ll definitely form a 'Revolutionary Corps.'"

Osvald pulled out paper and a pen and began jotting something down on his own. It seemed to be filled with his ideologies and philosophy.

Everyone quietly took a step away from him. There was no benefit to getting close to that guy.

Ghislain usually didn’t pay much attention to whatever Osvald said. He had accepted that the world was full of all kinds of lunatics.

But lately, he couldn’t help but notice how often Osvald was muttering the word “revolution.”

‘No way... because of him? Nah, no way.’

A group came to mind—a group that had stirred up chaos all across the continent in the far future.

It was a stretch. The idea that Osvald’s radical ideology would survive for a thousand years was absurd.

‘Even if he’s writing it down, there’s no way that’ll last a thousand years. It’s probably just someone else who had a similar idea. Anyone could think like that.’

Ghislain decided not to dwell on it.

It was probably just a reflex, born from how the past had affected the future in events like the ‘Black Mage Duck Incident.’

However, unlike Ghislain’s dismissal, Osvald continued scribbling, silently vowing to himself.

‘I might die before achieving my revolution. If I get the chance, I’ll enchant these writings for preservation. That way someone can inherit my will. Oh, since I travel a lot, I could also carve it into rocks in different regions. Someone will see it and feel inspired enough to start a revolution.’

Ambitiously, he hoped his ideology would live on forever.

‘Revolutionary Osvald. Damn, that sounds cool. A person’s gotta be intellectual, after all.’

Osvald was very satisfied with himself. He felt like some great philosopher now.

With those slightly dangerous ramblings in the background, the Julien Mercenary Corps quickly finished packing and prepared to depart.

Grondal shook hands with Ghislain and said,

"We’ll meet again, right? Let’s settle once and for all who’s stronger."

"Of course. It’ll be a good match."

Both men were firmly convinced that they would win.

Maybe that’s why, even though they were smiling, they squeezed each other’s hands with force.

The handshake lasted suspiciously long.

Smiles still hung on their lips, but their cheeks twitched and their hands trembled slightly from the pressure.

"...Father, that’s enough."

"...Ghislain, please."

Only after those nearby stepped in and pulled them apart did the two finally let go.

Their hands had gone pale from lack of blood flow, but their expressions were completely calm, as if nothing had happened.

The Julien Mercenary Corps left Vallscrum with a grand send-off from the dwarves.

This journey had been another success. They had obtained the Sacred Stone and earned the goodwill of the dwarves.

Now, the Julien Mercenary Corps would have strong support from both the elves and the dwarves in the Great War.

But Ghislain was not satisfied with just that.

‘The Julien Mercenary Corps must stand at the center.’

Only then could he lead the war in the direction he wanted. Only then could no one dare scheme behind their backs.

Ghislain opened the map. The next destination was quite far.

Naturally—because that place was a forbidden land, unfit for human life.

And there, awaited...

...the one who held the last Sacred Stone, excluding the humans.

‘...We meet again.’

An encounter that had come not in the past, but in the future.

The being that had split the skies and foretold the world’s end.

The final dragon that had threatened mankind.

‘Dragon Lord, Arterion.’

It was finally time to face him.