Yeah... why had I made such a decision?
Goetia questioned it in madness and agony.
Both Solomon and Roman had already vanished; nothing remained within the Temple of Time.
And the Temple of Time itself had begun to waver.
The foundation of the Temple of Time was King Solomon's magecraft circuits—in other words, King Solomon's body. And now...
Solomon had used his First Noble Phantasm to cast away everything he had. Naturally, the Temple of Time's existence had entered its countdown.
"Ahaha, well, I threw away everything I had, so this outcome was only natural."
Standing in the empty darkness, the man named Romani Archaman muttered to himself with a bitter smile.
"Everything created by [Solomon] will lose its value, huh? What should I do? I'm starting to regret it a little now."
He knew everything. He understood it all. And precisely because of that, he had chosen to launch this self-destructive attack, helping those who truly ought to save humanity win this battle.
"You knew that you would even disappear from the Throne of Heroes, didn't you?"
A voice reached his ears.
"Ah, I knew... huh?"
Roman nodded reflexively, then froze.
In this empty place that could, for lack of a better term, be called "space," he looked around, only to find that he could see nothing at all. He scratched his head.
After thinking for a moment, he decided to try speaking.
"Um... is someone talking?"
No one answered.
Roman sighed in relief and patted his chest, but then his expression turned lonely again.
Was that an auditory hallucination? A coward who had reached the realm of [nothingness]... maybe that title really did suit him.
"That child is still grieving for you."
That unknown voice rang out again. This time, Roman definitely heard it.
"Ah... huh?"
His hand