I went numb.

January 20th? What is that supposed to mean?

Even the original purpose of showing off the treasure, to lure and manipulate the soldiers, completely slipped my mind.

How...?

No words came. No next question formed. Nothing came out. Silence stretched, and the golden radiance around me faded.

I heard faint murmurs. Just as I was about to blurt out something, anything...

"Everyone! Don’t be swayed by this wicked undead! Have you forgotten our sacred duty?"

"That’s right."

"Mhm."

The soldiers nodded firmly.

"Do not let filthy gold tempt you! I, Shapiro, am the loyal sword of His Majesty the emperor!"

The one who had doubted the gems now raised his blade and charged. Maybe I’d hesitated too long after hearing that date, January 20th. The gleam in Shapiro’s eyes, visible through the slit of his helmet, was unshakably resolute.

Without sparing the gold a glance, he swung his sword with lethal precision.

I hadn’t seen that coming.

"Wait! I can summon more treasure...!"

Crash!

Before I could even finish, the blade pierced my side. There wasn’t even time to dodge. This one was faster and stronger than the brute who had scooped gold coins into his helmet.

I grabbed the sword that tore upward from my ribs, but my hand and ribs shattered together with a pathetic crunch.

Unbelievable. What kind of graveyard patrolman turned down wealth worth dozens of his yearly wages? Rejecting free gold, without risk, without cost? How absurd!

Clatter!

I crawled desperately toward the fallen coins. With my weakened Inventory control, I had to get closer before I could open the space.

Pick them up again.

Every single coin mattered. Anything left outside the Inventory would be gone forever.

"More... summon more..." The soldier who had been catching coins with his helmet grabbed me. He still hadn’t shaken off his greed. "Hurry! Summon more gold!"

Useless fool.

With the last of my strength, I bit down on his wrist. Maybe it was the shock, or maybe I still had some bite strength left, but he flinched, and a few coins clattered to the ground. I quickly pulled them back into the Inventory.

"My coins! My coins!"

Crack! Crack!

The burly one stomped down on me again and again. Darkness closed in.

January 20th. That single phrase had shaken me too much. My focus slipped. My thoughts scattered.

Next time... I’ll make it count...

***

Ding!

[Succesion Complete.]

"I am His Majesty’s loyal..."

***

Ding! 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

[...Complete.]

"Honor is eternal!"

***

Ding!

"Gilbert! What are you doing? Are you betraying your comrades now?"

"That’s not..."

"Die, undead!"

***

Ding!

"What? The weather? Yeah, it rained yesterday. You swear you’ll give me that gold if I tell you?"

"Gilbert! Get ahold of yourself! Never disclose any information during a mission!"

"Ah... r-right... Glory to His Majesty!"

***

Ding!

I had no words left. After dying several times in a row, I’d learned far more than I ever wanted to about these soldiers.

There were always three of them. Their strength was overwhelming compared to mine, and I died too quickly to even hold a proper conversation. Trying to reason with them had been a complete failure. Even though I’d reclaimed some of the scattered gold, half of the coins in my Inventory were already gone.

I’d pinned my hopes on the soldier called Gilbert, the one who’d collected coins in his helmet. I’d even handed him jewels, whispering for him to betray his comrades. Yet the result was always the same. The jewels vanished into nothing. The soldiers—wordless, emotionless—killed me again and again.

Still, there was one useful piece of information. Today was January 20th. It wasn’t the kind of detail one would lie about to an undead about to die anyway. Even if one of them had, the odds of all three giving the same date were slim.

No matter how many times I asked, no matter the order, the answer remained the same. Today was January 20th, Year 1147.

The very same day.

Yet the grave was empty. No Rubia Ray. No Necron members. No storm. There were only these unfamiliar imperial soldiers on patrol.

I guess there was a storm...

I’d managed to get that much from them, but they said it had come yesterday. The weather had shifted forward by a single day. How could that even happen? Of course, there was no point asking the soldiers for answers.

At least... the pattern around that date stayed the same.

I remembered Rubia’s words.

***

"Besides, the weather is always different on January 20th compared to the day before. And it's different compared to the next day too. It stands out on its own."

"The weather changes?"

"It's sunny, then it snows, or it's snowing, and then it clears up, or it's raining, and then it snows."

***

When could I continue her scenario again? When could I finally secure her place in a peaceful world line? A complicated feeling welled up inside me. After forcing her through countless deaths, I felt guilty even letting her name pass through my mind.

My chest tightened. Even the quiet moonlight felt sentimental and dizzying.

Clatter.

I shook my head. This wasn’t the time to worry about her. Right now, surviving one more night was all that mattered.

There has to be something...

I glanced through my Inventory, then stopped myself from pulling anything out.

No. Not like this.

At this pace, I’d waste all my resources before accomplishing anything meaningful. It would be foolish to squander treasure on random graverobbers. If I met someone like the Merchant Union again, someone who truly valued these things, then it would be worth it. For now, I wouldn’t take anything out.

What about the opposite?

Maybe I could start putting things in. If I could take something from them, even their swords, these soldiers might cease to exist. Maybe they’d vanish from this graveyard entirely.

From the right.

Tap.

Footsteps approached. Maybe it was just an illusion. I couldn’t sense any presence yet, but somehow, I could see it clearly, as if looking down from the top of a tall tree. I’d repeated this countless times. Gilbert always approached from the right side of the large boulder.

Damn bastard.

The curse circled in my head. Greedy enough to scoop up coins, yet stingy with information. Still, he was far more useful than Shapiro, the stubborn one who refused to speak at all. He only told me the date after a dozen deaths.

Clatter.

I stepped quietly behind the rock and hid. There was no point in trying to mask my presence anyway. Whether I hid or not, I’d be killed all the same.

Three. Six. Nine. Now. Just strike the wrist. Knock the sword out of his hand. I knew exactly where the attack would come from and how fast.

Whoosh!

I stepped back once, then forward, to the left. Next...

Thud!

***

Ding!

[Succesion Complete.]

Even though I’d memorized every movement, I still failed.

My own actions affect his.

If I stepped too soon to the left, as I expected him to attack, his motion changed. So this time, I hesitated, just for a heartbeat, then rolled aside when Gilbert’s shoulders tensed.

Crash!

***

Ding!

[Succesion Complete.]

I’d forgotten how skilled he was with his feet. I couldn’t overlook even that. Still, I was making progress, advancing two steps at a time. Just like this...

Thud!

He was faster than expected.

Ding!

***

Ding!

Whoosh!

By now, I could dodge Gilbert’s strikes with my back turned. I didn’t even need to look anymore. I evaded each swing with the barest movements, bending, pausing, turning left, again and again.

Gilbert swung his sword down hard with both hands, but when his blows kept missing, his composure shattered. "What... what the hell?"

He roared, throwing all his strength into a heavy downward strike, but I avoided even that perfectly. He was wide open.

Now.

Srrrk!

There would never be a better chance. Yet Gilbert didn’t dodge the blade that thrust toward his chest.

"Haah!"

Clang!

He dropped his sword and lunged forward, grabbing the thin blade with his bare hands. The edge bit into his gauntlet but went no further, stopped cold by the studs embedded in the metal.

"You startled me. You’re so slow."

Thump!

He seized my wrist with frightening strength. I couldn’t break free. His grip only tightened.

Crack! Crack!

"Where did you even get a sword like this?"

One of my wrists shattered completely. But even then, I could still accomplish my goal.

"Well then... die."

He caught my throat with one hand and drew back his other arm for a heavy punch.

Clatter!

At that moment, I let go, dropping my own weight downward. Ironically, my shattered wrist made it easier to slip free, an effect I hadn’t even planned.

"Huh?"

Inventory.

I stretched my one remaining hand toward the ground. My fingers brushed the sword he’d dropped, and I opened the Inventory.

Srrrk!

The sword vanished into the void.

"Wha!?"

Gilbert shouted in shock and stomped down on me in panic.

Crack! Crack!

It worked.

The iron sword was inside my Inventory. Maybe now, Gilbert would cease to exist in this graveyard. Maybe he’d vanish entirely. The thought filled me with anticipation as my vision darkened, the sound of my skull cracking fading into silence.

***

Ding!

I opened my Inventory at once.

There it is.

Gilbert’s iron sword lay inside. Exactly as it had been. It was worthless when compared to the treasures in my collection, but at that moment, it felt more precious than anything.

If he’d truly lost his sword, then Gilbert the patrol soldier would probably cease to exist. Perhaps he’d become something else. A traveler, a woodcutter, anything but a soldier. The thought excited me.

Swish!

I grabbed the soldier’s sword and leaped out of the grave, running toward the spot where he was always stationed. But the moment I arrived, someone stood before me. A massive man in a broad, heavy helmet—the one I knew all too well by now.

Whoosh!

Gilbert swung his sword. Even after taking it, it made no difference. He still had it.

"How...?"

I drew my own blade from the Inventory. It looked nearly identical to his. It was the same length and build, differing only in the leather wrapping on the hilt and the tied scabbard string.

"You have... a sword?" I asked.

"What?"

He ignored me and swung again. I knew every one of his movements by heart, but this time, my strength failed me. I dodged only three swings before collapsing. The sword slipped from my hand, my arm broke, my legs tangled, and I crashed into the dirt. He didn’t let me rise again.

Crack!