Five hours later, Light Nun Milia returned with Maple Father.
Milia was still dressed in her white nun's habit, with a Silver-White Giant Hammer slung over her shoulder. She looked valiant and dashing, yet somehow profoundly out of place.
Yet it was precisely that incongruity that gave everyone who saw her an inexplicable sense of reassurance.
"You want to reverse time and save Miken?" The moment she caught hold of Gawain, she pressed him with the question.
"Yes." Gawain did not rush to have her put out the fire, instead answering patiently.
"Reversing time is something even God has never done. Can you do it?" Milia questioned.
"I don't know whether I can, but I do know one thing: if I don't try, then I definitely can't." That was Gawain's reply.
He did not want to deceive her, because among the visions of the future he had seen, there had been no vision of success.
Milia fell silent.
At that moment, only one sentence could describe how she felt—
Regret. Utter, profound regret.
She had once made many efforts, done many things, joined many organizations, and worked to suppress Anomalies.
But beneath the tides of the era, all her efforts were like sandcastles battered by waves, like snowmen beneath the blazing sun—exquisite and beautiful, yet destined to vanish in an instant.
When she recalled the speeches she had once given, all she felt was shame and regret.
She regretted that she had not tried harder or been more resolute, and she was ashamed that she had failed to live up to her own speeches. In the end, she had become just like those liars.
"All right, I'll help you. But the forest seems to have gone out already. Do you still need my help extinguishing the fire?" she asked.
"Not