"Ah-"
"Hey-are you okay?"
Flugel's eyes snapped open.
Sunlight shone on his face, carrying an unreal warmth.
Around him was the bustle of the marketplace-the steam from the bread stall, children's laughter in the distance, the creaking of the windmill turning overhead.
Every detail was perfectly clear.
He still held half a pie in his hand.
Vigel stood in front of him with his hands on his hips, his complaints as familiar as ever:
"What are you spacing out for? Your eyes have gone blank."
But this time, something finally changed-
"Small fry, why aren't you eating the pie His Majesty gave you? Not good enough for you? Hah! Say something!"
He had finally returned to... when these two were still here.
Flugel sat on the bench and slowly blinked. Sunlight fell on his eyelashes, coating them in warm gold.
He saw Farsale standing a few steps away, adjusting his cuffs; Reid leaned against a pillar, holding a branch he had casually picked up, regarding him with a languid gaze.
He was still here.
They were all here, and none of them had left yet.
Satella stood at a pottery stall not far away, her long silver hair like a quietly flowing river in the afternoon sunlight.
Her lips were still moving as she argued with the merchant about something.
She had not fallen yet.
Her blood had not yet soaked that patch of ground.
Flugel lowered his head and stared at his palm for a few seconds.
His fingers curled slightly-the sensation of touching her cheek last time still lingered on his fingertips. Her silver hair had been cold, hanging between his fingers.
That temperature had already branded itself into his skin. Then he raised his hands, buried his face in his palms, and his shoulders gave a slight shudder.
It hurts so much. I've died twice more in a single day, and I couldn't save everyone either time. This time, I have to... I have to...
As Flugel thought this, he still burst into tears, regretting how his stupidity last time had gotten everyone killed.
He was that sort of person, always taking it upon himself to shoulder responsibilities that were never his.
But since he had already taken on such a burden, then even if it was only selfishly for that girl, for the love that had arisen at some unknown point, for that so-called incomprehensible love at first sight, he had to fight with all his might to undo everything.
Because "thish is love!"
"Why're you crying now? You hopeless fool..."
There was a rare pause without mockery in Vigel's voice, as though something had tripped him up.
Flugel did not look up.
But his voice emerged from behind his hands, muffled and hoarse:
"...Companions... you can never have too many."
This was the lesson he had drawn-a lesson bought with everyone's lives.
Then he told everyone every detail of what had happened in his previous loops, not daring to leave anything out.
Now he sat here, and everyone else must still be here too, alive and whole, not yet crushed by that dark figure.
He raised his head, wiped his face hard, and swept his gaze over everyone present.
Farsale watched him with his head tilted slightly, a quiet patience in his ruby-like eyes;
Reid had already shed his lazy expression, tightening his grip on the wooden stick, his brow slightly furrowed;
Vigel stood before him with his hands on his hips, but an indescribable light shimmered in his star-blue eyes.
"The small fry died again? Don't make your big brother Reid laugh, you useless piece of trash, you minnow!"
That was what Reid said, but his knuckles unconsciously tightened around the wooden stick until they whitened, as though he too were guarding against some threat.
"Twice already, actually..."
Flugel's voice was very soft.
"If, as you say, Flugel, danger is about to descend upon this prosperous city and its builder,"
Farsale's voice suddenly rang out, steady and resolute,
"then of course we shall fight for peace-not as the king of some nation, but as knights with clear consciences."
"Well, if Your Majesty says so, long live chivalry..."
Reid helplessly scratched his tousled red hair, then continued fiddling with the wooden stick in his hand, which could barely be called a weapon.
Hearing this, Flugel stood up excitedly.
The movement was so fast that it startled Vigel.
He looked around-not far away, at the pottery stall, Satella stood sideways as she argued with the merchant, holding the chipped clay jar.
"Vigel..."
His voice was soft and steady, as though he had found a spot in the heart of a storm that would not sway,
"come with me. Let's go find friends together."
"What nonsense are you singing?"
Vigel grumbled, but he had already started walking.
He did not explain.
He simply led two high-ranking knights of the kingdom and a prophet of the empire, along with himself, an ordinary high school boy from another world, toward where Echidna would appear, his steps swift and steady.
No one knew how much power this seemingly bizarre, motley team would display here.
Vigel froze for a moment, but as he watched his retreating back-there was still light in that gaze, yet the shape of that light had changed.
"Wait, why are you running?!"
Vigel chased after him,
"You suddenly seem like a different person. Is this what happens when someone dies a bunch of times?"
"I'll tell you later."
Flugel did not turn around,
"Right now-we all need to stay alive together."
He had no way to explain, so he could only let his actions come before his words.
Because they had no time left.
Flugel once again smoothly helped Satella out of her predicament, and Hoshin likewise led the guards in dragging that merchant away again.
It seemed that no matter the loop, prison was this lawbreaker's ultimate destination-
"Luckily, everyone's ending will definitely be different!"
What awaited the Melancholy Fiend this time would not be a case of rescuers getting picked off one by one-instead, seven companions would work as one!
When they found Echidna, she was reading through scrolls in that wooden cottage.
She raised her head, and the moment she saw Flugel, a barely perceptible flicker of surprise crossed her pale purple eyes.
Vigel was out of breath from running, but his astrolabe was polished bright.
Farsale stood by the door, the Dragon Sword strapped to his straight, sturdy back-a sword that would not leave its sheath unless it encountered a powerful foe. It was said to have belonged to the first hero, though it had now accepted Reid as its master.
His expression was graver than before.
Reid stood beside him, but from the instant he entered the room, his gaze had quickly swept over everyone inside, as though confirming something.
"You-and your companions are all here."
Echidna closed the scroll, her fingers gently brushing the edge of the parchment,
"Earlier than I expected."
"We need to leave here. Let's go to the old mill beside the cottage first."
Flugel stood in the doorway, his voice steady yet carrying an unquestionable weight,
"The Melancholy Fiend will be here soon. He knows where we are, so we need to set things up first."
Echidna's gaze lingered on his face for a moment, and then she stood:
"You sound so certain. And here I thought you were just an outsider who had only just arrived."
"I haven't been here long."
Flugel's gaze was firm, as though a lion lurked in his eyes.
"But I already know some things you don't."
This time, he did not turn to look at Satella.
He simply said what needed saying, then waited.
After a brief silence, Satella stepped through the doorway, her voice a little softer than before:
"Just now... you said he was coming-he's coming for Echidna and me, right?"
"Yes, but this time I won't let him have his way."
Flugel smiled at her, then confidently patted his chest.
"You're sure there's really some revolting bastard that strong?"
Reid asked.
"I'm sure."
Flugel said,
"But he doesn't know we're prepared. And-he doesn't know you."
"Now that sounds interesting."
Reid sat down against the wall, his back resting against it, his eyes half closed,
"Just watch me beat him so badly today that he'll be scarred for life."
"Mind your knightly manners and bearing. There are plenty of people watching, Astrea!"
Farsale shook his head helplessly.
Flugel did not have everyone hide in the cellar and wait-because he was going to take them to do something else.
After finding the old mill, Flugel and Echidna carefully laid out an ambush strategy.
He pulled Vigel to the edge of the millstone and said quietly:
"Vigel, you'll be against the wall on the left. Use your lightning magic to create an arc of light. You don't need to hurt him-just slow him down for an instant."
Then he turned to Hoshin and the other two,
"Old man, Echidna, Satella-attack from the right three seconds after he enters the doorway-even if you don't hit him, you have to make him think we'll break through from there."
"The real opening will be-"
Flugel looked at Farsale and Reid,
"Reid and myself, two knights of the Kingdom of Lugunica. Though this fellow hardly qualifies in other respects... his strength, at least, is formidable."
Farsale gave a knightly salute and nodded.
"What about you, young man?" Hoshin asked.
"I-"
Flugel lowered his head and fell silent for a moment.
When he raised his head again, his voice was soft,
"You don't need to worry about me. I'll do whatever I can within my abilities."
The second lesson he had gained from his last death:
"If you're not strong enough... don't push yourself."
They waited inside the dim mill.
Those footsteps arrived as expected-heavy and slow, with a dragging quality, as though treading through wet mud.
The door was pushed open.
The Melancholy Fiend stood in the doorway, his face indistinct beneath his hood.
"The silver witch-"
He seemed to be muttering to himself,
"is right here, much clearer than before-but does it look like there are two? I'll have to dispose of them all..."
He took his first step.
Then-Vigel's lightning burst from the left in a silver-blue arc, cutting precisely across the edge of his vision.
The Melancholy Fiend tilted his head slightly, his movement delayed for less than half a second.
That fraction of a second was enough for Echidna, Satella, and Hoshin's magical attacks to all reach full power, forcing him to raise his arms to block and shifting his center of gravity several inches.
At that very instant, Reid moved.
"-Let's get acquainted."
Reid's voice rang out in the darkness,
"Astrea of the Kingdom of Lugunica. Just a 'Master Swordsman.'"
Flugel did not stand at the front. He stood beside Satella, as though he had long since decided where he belonged.
When he saw the Melancholy Fiend driven back half a step by Reid and Farsale's combined attack, he knew-that half step was the one and only opening.
He shouted with all his strength:
"Left! Three inches below the base of the blade!"
Hearing him, Farsale immediately redirected his sword, thrusting precisely at that spot.
Flugel once again used the Yin Magic that had grown stronger after one loop-
"Shamak!"
With his vision obstructed, the Melancholy Fiend had no time at all to adjust his stance.
Then, for the first time, he took a vicious direct hit, blood spraying.
"How did you know-"
For the first time, the Melancholy Fiend's voice cracked.
"Because I've already seen it many times."
Flugel said no more. He did not need to.
Before that, he had already died several times.
He remembered where everyone stood, remembered the trajectory of every attack.
He remembered the angle at which Echidna was sent flying, remembered the direction Satella's hair fell into the dust when she collapsed.
But this time, he stood where he needed to stand.
Reid and Farsale attacked faster and faster. Two silvery-white sword lights wove an impenetrable net inside the dim wooden house, forcing the Melancholy Fiend back step by step. His languid expression twisted into a painful grimace.
"This ends here, clown!"
The wooden stick in Reid's hand seemed thicker and sturdier than the last one. When the final blow fell, the Melancholy Fiend was driven backward out of the wooden house, his figure nearly collapsing in the fierce sword winds.
In silence, he struggled to prop up his gravely wounded body, then vanished into the darkness in an instant.
"Tch~ That's all he's got? Too bad he's the kind who just runs when he can't win. Still, getting forced to die by an ugly bastard like that really does make our little lackey small fry."
Reid casually tossed the wooden stick aside.
"Well, I'm terribly sorry I couldn't make Lord Reid use his full strength."
Afterward, the room remained quiet for a long time.
Hoshin sat beside the wall, gently wiping the blood from a shallow cut on his face with his sleeve.
Vigel leaned against a corner, gasping for breath, but still held the astrolabe in his hand. Its silver-blue glow was slowly fading.
Farsale sheathed his sword and stood in the moonlight by the door. The Dragon Sword on his back, which he was keeping for someone else, remained utterly unresponsive.
Reid leaned against the opposite wall, having already tossed his makeshift weapon aside.
Moonlight spilled through a hole in the mill, falling like a thin layer of frost across the dusty floor.
"Young Flugel,"
Farsale turned toward Flugel,
"the position you called out just now was extraordinarily precise."
"Of course. I've seen it plenty of times."
Flugel fell silent for a moment.
"Every time I fail to stop him, I return to where it began."
The air in the room seemed to freeze for a moment. Echidna looked down at her fingers gripping the scroll, then raised her head and spoke:
"When you say 'return to where it began'-do you mean returning to a specific point in time?"
"Not necessarily, and my memories aren't very stable either... so it can be pretty difficult sometimes."
Flugel spoke very softly, as though describing something he had already grown accustomed to.
Echidna's breathing caught slightly, then she closed her scroll.
"Well, even so, your ability is closer to 'omniscience' than any knowledge I currently possess, Flugel."
"I just learn a little more after every failure."
"Learning a little more after every failure-eventually, that becomes knowing everything."
She rose, her voice a little softer than before.
"There are many people in this world who can remember their failures. But few can stand up again afterward. And you-you can do both. You possess a power like 'Return by Death,' yet you're always thinking about how to use it to help everyone. That's truly charming."
"Echidna, what's with that tone?"
Satella raised her head, a trace of confusion in her pure, deep violet eyes.
"But who exactly wants to hunt down Lady Echidna, one of Kararagi City's founders? Aren't they afraid of provoking an international dispute?"
Farsale turned toward Echidna and Hoshin and asked politely, displaying every bit of royal etiquette and bearing.
"That man is the Melancholy Fiend, a former subordinate of the Demon King. But ever since the hero's defeat of the Demon King passed fully into history, he should have been freed as well and retired into seclusion..."
"But that history is growing increasingly indistinct-in every sense. It's as though someone is deliberately erasing the hero's existence, with the Demon King disappearing along with him..."
Echidna's voice grew quieter.
"Is that so?"
Farsale spoke thoughtfully, then gently ran his fingers over the Dragon Sword's scabbard.
"This Dragon Sword also came from the hero's own hands, yet even the contract upon it seems to have been forgotten. It was supposed to be the hero's exclusive weapon, but now it has accepted Reid as its master, even if those old men have already dubbed him the 'Sword Saint.'"
"Are you putting me down, Your Majesty...?"
Reid muttered.
"And books about that period of history are quietly disappearing within the kingdom. Many of our people have even forgotten that history entirely... I'm deeply concerned. Forgetting history is itself a sin."
"So part of my purpose in visiting Kararagi City was to seek advice on these matters from the supposedly 'all-knowing and all-powerful' Lady Echidna."
"My apologies for making such a poor showing, Farsale. As the 'all-knowing and all-powerful' Witch of Greed, I still couldn't calculate any possibility of escaping this inevitable calamity. Thankfully, I received your help."
Echidna inclined her head slightly.
"So Lady Echidna is the 'Witch of Greed'..." There was a thoughtful note in Farsale's voice.
"After the Demon King died, all the factors within him scattered to seek suitable hosts. Perhaps I was born with a longing for all knowledge and an eager desire to pursue it. The Witch Factor of Greed has been with me since birth."
"I simply never expected that being to set her sights on the all-knowing and all-powerful me."
"She sent the Melancholy Fiend to kill me because I know too much."
"Then, Lady Echidna, who exactly is 'she'-the culprit behind all of this?"
"The Demon King's daughter."
Echidna's voice grew even quieter, sounding more worried.
"She is now acting under another identity-the Witch of Vainglory, Pandora."
"The true source of the attempt to alter the world."
"I know she is rewriting this world, erasing the things she doesn't want to remember one by one-including the very existence of that otherworldly hero from four hundred years ago."
"The information I currently possess is enough to threaten her plans, so I must die. Fortunately, your arrival thwarted this plot of hers."
"After such a devastating defeat, I imagine the Melancholy Fiend will no longer be willing to serve that illusory being who should have faded into the river of time."
She looked around at everyone in the room-Satella, Hoshin, Vigel, Reid, Farsale-before her gaze returned to Flugel.
"If we're to do something to change this world's course, one person alone won't be enough. But with you at the center-"
She paused.
"Perhaps we really could accomplish something."
Seated against the wall, Reid chuckled at those words.
"So we're all getting ready to take orders from this little lackey?"
He casually patted the Dragon Sword's scabbard on Farsale.
"I haven't seen anything that makes him stronger than me yet. Still, his callouts today were pretty accurate. I suppose I can admit he's got some use."
"It's not easy to win an Astrea's approval."
Farsale smiled as he joined in.
"Then count me in. As Lugunica's king, if this world truly is being rewritten, I have a duty to do my part."
Hoshin planted his cane firmly again, his amber eyes looking especially calm beneath the lamplight.
"Well, this old man's already traveled a long way. One more stretch won't hurt."
Vigel stood and dusted himself off.
"I was planning to keep traveling with him anyway... Stay somewhere like White Sand Town too long and you'll grow mold. A different way of life wouldn't be bad."
Satella stood beside the oil lamp, holding the old clay jar. She had wrapped a strip of cloth around its mouth again.
She raised her head, her gaze passing over the people looking at her before finally settling on Flugel.
She looked into his eyes, as though searching for something within them. After a moment, she spoke:
"Flugel, have you known me for a long time?"
"I might have already gotten to know you several times, Satella."
Flugel's voice was soft, carrying a trace of shame and awkwardness.
"But you might not remember."
Satella approached him and crouched down to look at him. Her gaze was quiet, as though she were looking at something she had yet to find the words to describe.
"You knew what was going to happen all along. Didn't you?"
"More or less."
"Then why didn't you stay away?"
Her voice was very soft, as though she wasn't sure whether she should ask.
"This wasn't really your responsibility in the first place, Flugel... You'd only just arrived in this city. You didn't even know me. You had no reason to do this for a stranger-"
"But I already know you."
Flugel interrupted her. The words slipped out faster than he had expected, and with greater certainty than he himself had anticipated.
He paused, as though eager to add something, but ultimately found nothing to add. Seemingly a little nervous, he simply continued, his voice slowing as though he were checking that everything he said was true as he spoke, even if it was only nonsense.
His face flushed, his heartbeat quickened involuntarily, and seemingly without thinking, he uttered some unusual words that he wasn't sure qualified as lechery-words known as hitting on someone, or perhaps a strange confession.
"Satella, you asked why I came. Honestly-before coming to this marketplace, I didn't even know your name. I didn't even know you existed in this world. Then I saw you. You were there, being pulled around by that awful merchant. Your beautiful long silver hair was a little messy, and there was dust on your face, but you held that chipped clay jar as though it were something precious. I thought-this person is protecting something that's already broken. She could have put it down, but she didn't. And I thought: what a beautiful, kind girl! Maybe in that one strange moment, I... think I fell for you... That probably sounds a little unreasonable."
Flugel's face reddened further, his fingers fidgeting nervously against one another, but he dared not stop speaking.
"And then, the previous two times we encountered the Melancholy Fiend, Echidna and you, Satella... and Hoshin and Vigel too... none of you could beat him. Everyone fell to the ground, but all I could do was watch. I wanted to save you, instinctively... because I don't want to lose anyone around me again..."
He couldn't help recalling his miserable experiences upon first arriving in this world. He had parents who loved him, a complete family, yet this shitty otherworld summoning had dragged him here-no wonder the protagonists in those transmigration anime were almost always orphans...
Dad, Mom, are you both doing all right back on Earth?
He yearned so desperately for time not to pass over there, hoped so desperately that the world there could pause for him. If that were the case, perhaps he could feel a little better.
But when he thought that his sudden arrival here might have been some god's sick idea of fun-insisting on tormenting him with death-if his parents found out...
He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing. It seemed that if he continued, his tears would spill out again.
"In both of those loops, you told me, 'I feel like I've seen you somewhere before.' When I heard that, I suddenly understood. Why was it something I should do? Because someone could still remember me, remember that I existed. So I couldn't let you fall there again... I couldn't keep pretending that look in your eyes, that moment, had never happened. And having you standing here safe, Satella-with everyone else too-matters more to me than anything I can think of."
The mill remained quiet for a long time. The oil lamp's flame flickered gently, as though something were slowly taking shape within its faint light.
Satella crouched before him, her deep violet eyes reflecting the dancing lamplight, the shadows of night, and his figure standing there.
She looked at him for a long time, so long that even he felt time no longer mattered. Then the corners of her lips curved gently-that curve was faint, almost imperceptible, but it was real.
Her eyelids lowered slightly, as though she were digesting the weight of something, and then she walked toward Flugel.
Unexpectedly, Satella gave him a deep embrace that allowed him to bury his face in her chest, followed immediately by gentle words.
"Is that so... Having an ability like that must be so hard, Flugel."
"Thank you for saving me, and Echidna, and everyone. You've worked so hard, Flugel. You must be exhausted too. If you want to cry, go ahead. Every good child has that right..."
Flugel truly couldn't bear the pain any longer.
Anyone would have found everything that had happened to him so far unbearable, and through his own efforts, he had already done everything as well as he could. That was enough.
His tears fell uncontrollably, and at last he began to cry in Satella's arms.
Satella's fair, slender hands tightened a little again, unstintingly drawing Flugel's tear-soaked face deeper against her soft chest.
Once the sobs in her arms gradually subsided, her gentle voice sounded again.
"...Flugel, do you know,"
Her voice was very soft, as though she feared breaking something.
"Ever since I was little, I've heard so many people speak to me. Some begged me, some shouted at me, and some told me in all sorts of ways what kind of person I should become. But no one-no one has ever looked at me like that before I'd done anything at all."
She tilted her head slightly, as though checking whether what she was about to say was accurate.
"When you saw me, Flugel, you weren't expecting me to become anything. You were simply looking at me. In your eyes, it seemed that just having me standing there was enough. I'm truly, deeply grateful that someone could look at me that way."
"I'm sorry, Flugel," she said.
"I'm not ready yet. It's not that I don't want to-it's that I don't yet know how to respond to something I've never been given before. But somehow, I feel as though I should have known you for a long time too."
Wind poured through the hole in the mill, stirring the silver hair beside her ear. She raised her hand and tucked the strand behind her ear with a gentle movement.
"So, Flugel-could you... not stop? Don't stop looking at me just because I'm not ready yet..."
As she said this, Satella couldn't help blushing too. She felt she had said something rather excessive... even though she really wasn't ready to face these feelings yet.
Of course Flugel knew that feelings couldn't develop overnight. He really had been a little impatient, and hurriedly replied:
"I-it's all right, Satella! I know this really is asking a bit much. If you're going to learn to understand, then I'll definitely... definitely be willing to wait for you."
"I'll come every time," he said.
"I'll never fail to be there."
"Yes! Then from now on, I'll do everything I can to remember you too!"
A blush gradually spread across Satella's exquisite, angelic face as she replied with a smile.
"If you'll come back every time, Flugel-then I'll wait for you every time too, and keep looking at you."
Flugel looked into her eyes. At that moment, he suddenly felt that even in another world, he no longer needed to be afraid-because she, and everyone else, would stand beside him.
The night wind blew from afar, rustling the dry grass on the mill's roof.
Beside the nearby millstone, Vigel murmured so quietly that only he could hear:
"...Is this guy seriously confessing? Here? Now?"
Hoshin leaned on his cane and coughed softly. Reid leaned against the wall with his arms folded, gazing at the moon through the hole in the roof as though pretending he hadn't heard a thing. Farsale looked down at his scabbard, the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. Echidna opened the scroll in her hands, but her gaze rested not on the parchment-but on the oil lamp's flame.
That star, dim for far too long, was beginning to shine faintly through a gap in the clouds.