“I never should have taught you magic.”
The man before me spoke while bleeding. Meanwhile, I was staring toward the horizon.
“Waaaaahhh! Kill every last human!”
Boom!
The demonkind's forces were bearing down on us. Which meant the Demon King had to be somewhere beyond them. I gripped the Head of House's shoulder firmly.
“You have to go. Humanity will survive only if you do.” “Arthur, you little brat. Even if you have no talent for magic, Fourth Circle at your age? Heh heh. Isn't that a bit much?”
He had suddenly dug into my most painful wound. He knew better than anyone. That I had no talent. During my adolescence, I'd suffered so much over it at the academy.
“Lord Frost.”
But that was the sort of thing we could discuss over a cup of tea, or perhaps a drink, when the world was still in order. Not now, with the Demon King's Army bearing down on us. The Head of House kept rambling about useless things, as if none of it mattered.
“Arthur. Did you ever regret not learning the sword?”
At his next non sequitur, I looked back and forth between the horizon and his face. What was wrong with him?
“...Don't talk so much. We need to move while we still have time.” “No. I know my own body best. I've lost too much blood.”
He showed me the place where he'd been staunching the bleeding. Drip. The blood poured out in torrents the moment he moved his hand.
“...I'll bring a healer. Wait here.”
Grab. He seized my hand. His head shook slowly, without a trace of life in his eyes.
“You know my master—no. You know your grandfather, don't you? You were there that day, too.” “Is this really the time to talk about that—? Haa... Yes. I know.”
The Head of House's eyes were utterly dark. The color of death. Listening to the final words of one who was about to become the deceased was the least I could do as a fellow soldier.
“Arthur Graham. The continent's only Grand Swordmaster. You and two Swordmasters killed him in a combined assault. On the orders of a king blinded by jealousy. I was eight at the time.” “Yes. Duke Helleim ordered them to kill you so you wouldn't leave behind any future threat, and I said I would adopt you instead.”
He smiled as if the old memory brought him joy. No—he tried to smile, but his lips merely twisted slightly.
“I thought I couldn't put a sword in your hands. I was afraid I'd see my master end up like that again. That's why I taught you magic. Heh heh. I never imagined the Demon King would invade, or that you'd have so little talent. Even though you worked so hard at it. Didn't it break your heart?” “Amor fati. If that's my fate, I have no choice but to accept it.”
“Waaaaahhh!”
Then the war cry of the Demon King's Army rang out nearby. I groaned softly and rose to my feet. The Head of House Frost, a Ninth-Circle mage, was already at death's door. Duke Helleim, master of the swordsmanship house, had died blaming my magical talent. Leonhardt, protector of the royal court, had also met his end alongside his knight order.
Everywhere I looked, there were only corpses. I was the only one left who could fight in this wilderness.
...Didn't it break my heart? It would be a lie to say I had no regrets. There was still so much I couldn't let go of.
What would have happened if I'd graduated from the swordsmanship department instead of the magic department? Or if I hadn't been adopted before that—
No. Don't think about that. Even so, it was the Head of House Frost who saved me and took me in. He raised me like a noble when I would have lived as an orphan. Gratitude wasn't enough to repay him.
“...All I can do is what I'm capable of right now.”
Shing! A magic circle formed in the air a short distance from both my hands. It was only a Fourth-Circle spell, but I would use it. That was the best choice I could make. But then—
Thunk.
Whatever regret still lingered in him, he used what little strength he had left to grab my hand again. He panted and barely managed to force out the words.
“Arthur. Go back.” “Where am I supposed to go now? House Helleim, the swordsmanship house, has fallen, and the kingdom has been annihilated. It's hell wherever you go.” “No. Cough! Cough. Start over. From the beginning.” “What are you talking about?”
The Head of House was seriously spouting nonsense.
“Don't learn magic. No matter how I think about it, you have no talent for it. But just as you've vaguely sensed yourself, swordsmanship will be different. Your bloodline—your grandfather, my master, was the continent's only Grand Swordmaster.”
As I stared blankly at him, he pulled something from inside his coat. It was shaped like a dagger, but the blade was transparent. It didn't look like glass. It looked as if someone had shaved a gemstone down to a thin edge.
“What is this? Are you telling me to kill myself rather than be captured and tortured by the Demon King? Or do you want me to end your suffering?” “The former. If you stab yourself in the throat with this, you'll return to the past. To the moment you regret most in your life. I think I know which one it is. It was probably that day.”
I looked at him as if he were spouting some kind of lunacy, and he chuckled. What was so funny to him? Even so, my eyes began to tremble. If it were real. If I could truly do it all over again. I could save Leonhardt, who had died first; Duke Helleim; and even the Head of House Frost standing before me.
“There! A human!” “It’s the Head of House Frost! Tear him apart and avenge our kin!”
“Waaaaahhh!”
Tsk.
The demonkind's roar jolted me back to my senses. This was absurd. I'd wasted too much time on the Head of House's nonsense. But perhaps he was desperate, because he thumped the back of my hand repeatedly, forcing my gaze back toward him.
“Hurry. You have to go back. This is as far as I can go. So you have to go.”
He forced the transparent, shining dagger into my hand. He was far too certain for this to be merely the madness of a dying man.
“...Are you telling me this because you've tried it yourself?” “It’s single-use.” “Damn it.” “Can you... believe me?”
I looked at him for a moment, then answered with my actions.
Stab!
“Guh!”
My consciousness began to fade. On the Head of House's face, a bright smile appeared—far too bright for the face of a dying man.
“When you go back, choose Helleim instead of me. Wield the sword. And one day, come to me and say this.”
My vision blurred, and my ears began to buzz. The last thing I heard was the Head of House's voice, mingling relief with anguish.
‘I drove a carriage faster than time itself and came back against the flow.’
“It’s cold.”
A huge man spoke. His entire body was covered in massive muscles, to the point that it was hard to imagine how he even moved.
“You can only feel the cold because you’re alive.”
An old man in front of him muttered as he crunched softly through the snow. The mountain had once been green, but snow covered it now, stripping away its vitality. Even so, it was a magnificent sight in its own way.
“You’ve felt it long enough.”
The meaning behind his visitor’s words was clear, but the old man remained unmoved and repeated the routine he had followed yesterday.
Crack!
He chopped firewood and stacked it beside him. It was the attitude of a man preparing for tomorrow. Watching him, the knight ground his teeth.
“You’re awfully confident.” “I had no intention of offending you. I’m not doing this for my own sake.”
The old man set down his ax and stood before the pile of firewood.
Crack! Rattle-rattle.
The knight unconsciously took a step back. How could an old man have that kind of strength?
“Yes. And who sent you this time?”
The old man’s eyes, fixed on the knight, were so exhausted that anyone could recognize it at a glance.”}ઘેર end? Wait JSON string has final quote then no issue. Need ensure valid JSON and no extraneous weird. I accidentally output