༺ Truth (2) ༻
A flood of memories surged forth.
As recollections of his past self becoming an unholy creature surfaced, Vera fell to his knees.
‘This is…’
The twisted memories were engraved once more.
The missing moments of his past reconnected into their proper forms.
The moment he became the ruler of the slums, and the moment he first met Renee there.
And when he met her again, as the subordinates of the one called the Demon King were ravaging this land.
– Would you mind granting that one-time favor now?
Even her smile at that time.
“Ugh…”
Vera pressed his hand against his head.
He thrashed about to calm his out-of-control breaths.
And so, he faced it.
– Do you love me?
The whispered words in the night, with moonlight pouring through the window.
The sensation of a hand reaching out to gently caress his cheek.
– I may commit a cruel act. You will come to resent me.
Those were words of warning.
His past self answered.
– No matter what.
Their lips met.
The memories continued onto Lake Granice.
– This is where it will end. Our final battle.
– When everything is over, will we go back?
– Do you not wish to?
– Well…
His chest ached.
Because she smiled so wistfully. Because he couldn’t understand her reasoning at all.
She was a woman shrouded in secrets.
Even until the very end.
– I’m sorry…
With that cryptic apology, the memories ceased.
What arose was a feeling of sinking into a swamp.
When he opened his eyes, he was with her in the slums, having forgotten her.
Vera composed himself, breathing raggedly.
Warm tears streamed down his cheeks, his eyes widening as if heartbroken.
‘These memories…’
These were the real memories he had forgotten.
Of meeting her, falling in love, and their parting.
‘…Why?’
Why did things happen this way?
Why did the past Renee seal away his memories and bring about such an ending?
What was she aiming for?
He was confused.
Resentment lay in the direction his uncontrollable emotions pulled him, yet love also waited at the end. Unsure of what to make of himself, Vera felt lost.
In that moment.
[Come.]
The voice called out once more.
Vera raised his head.
He stared again towards the origin of the voice within the mist-shrouded world.
[Come.]
He rose to his feet, walked forward unsteadily, and then shouted.
“Who are you?!”
He asked the voice that had led him here, that had revealed this truth.
The voice answered.
[Come.]
Vera gritted his teeth.
As he did that, he increased the strength of his steps, steadied himself, and broke out into a run.
He stabilized his scattered thoughts and ceaselessly deduced who the voice belonged to.
Judging from the unveiled memories, he became the Tenth.
The Renee from his previous life had sealed him with the Crown of Rebirth.
She seemed to have gone through multiple lives.
Connecting the dots, Vera deduced the identity of the one who had pulled him into this space the moment he stabbed Alaysia’s heart.
The running stopped.
His hurried footsteps soon froze in place.
Breathing heavily, he stared at the one who still only existed as a silhouette.
And then, he said.
“Ardain…”
The mist cleared.
A world of pure white unfolded.
At the center, still a silhouette, was him.
[…So, we meet like this.]
Only then did Vera realize.
“You are…”
The reason he existed merely as a silhouette in his vision.
It was for no other reason.
The very reason was he had no set form.
[Surely, you already know.]
He smiled.
Or rather, it felt like he smiled.
Even in this clear world, he still only existed as a silhouette, so Vera could not discern his expression accurately.
At times, a young man, other times, a young woman.
Sometimes an elder, sometimes a child.
Occasionally, a middle-aged man.
He was both good and evil.
Unable to grasp his essence, Vera could only think of the word ‘human’ to encapsulate him.
He approached, standing before him indistinctly as an afterimage.
[You are…]
Despite being unable to make out anything, Vera sensed that Ardain was smiling at him.
[…the sacrifice of this era.]
Even though he said it with a smile, those words felt only bittersweet to Vera, who questioned back.
“…What do you mean by sacrifice?”
The unresolved emotions ignited a flame in Vera’s eyes.
The ashen eyes that had been reduced to nothing but embers just moments ago were relit with his emotions as fuel once more.
Ardain responded.
[Just as it sounds.]
Ardain turned around.
[Follow me.]
He started walking.
Crackle—!
The light took form.
With widened eyes, Vera beheld the unveiled scene in his eyes.
“This is…”
[The beginning of this land.]
What was revealed was a vast meadow.
Ardain replied quietly and kept walking.
Vera clenched his teeth and followed behind.
Ardain then turned to Vera and continued speaking.
[On the Day of Beginning, we received a revelation.]
Situated over the meadow were the nine Ancient Species.
At the end of where they bowed their heads was a tranquil pond.
Vera recognized it as well.
‘…This is where Elia is.’
It was the Pond of Revelation at the heart of Elia.
They were in there.
[Born as farmers to cultivate this land, we simply followed that revelation.]
Hearing those words, Vera observed the unfolding scene.
Terdan pushed the land, shaping the mountains.
Locrion soared upwards, forming the sky.
Nartania formed the shadows, and Gorgan the seas.
[Just be free.]
As Ardain spoke those words and waved his hand, a fully formed world spun in Vera’s vision.
[Following the revelation, we created a world that cherishes freedom above all else.]
The land of spring, where life began.
There, Ardain stroked Alaysia by Aedrin’s side, who had taken root here.
[That was the beginning.]
Vera thought.
The emotion laced in his voice is infinitely closer to regret.
However, what Vera wondered about was not the beginning of this land.
“What I’m asking about is the meaning of sacrifice.”
[It’s not so different from the story.]
Ardain finally looked straight at Vera.
Standing across from each other, he answered.
[Now, in what you’ve seen so well, what did Alaysia and I do?]
The instant he tried to reply, Vera felt his jaw clamp shut.
‘…Nothing.’
They did nothing.
Alaysia and Ardain simply watched.
Ardain chuckled.
[Indeed, that was not our role.]
“…I don’t enjoy talking in circles..”
[Hm, an impatient child.]
With a shrug as if he had no choice, Ardain’s manner irked Vera, who exhaled deeply before speaking.
“…Let me ask again. What is the sacrifice? For what purpose do you exist? And I…”
Clench—
Vera’s hands tightened into a fist.
“…Why am I the Tenth?”
Ardain silently stared at him for some time, then nodded and said.
[Indeed, personal stories are not important currently.]
“What is the Tenth?”
[It is the end of an era.]
Ardain waved his hand.
The world began following flowing at a very fast pace.
Within it, Vera saw.
The sacrifice placed upon the altar atop the meadow, the sacrifice burning upon the cross, the sacrifice chained to a boulder while crows feasted upon their flesh.
And countless other sacrifices.
[The turning point that marks the end of one era and the beginning of the next. That is the sacrifice.]
Each scene made him frown.
As Vera watched them, he asked.
“…Were all of these you?”
It wasn’t a baseless question.
The aura he sensed from them was far too familiar, nearly identical to the presence before him now.
Ardain affirmed it.
[It was like that until now.]
“Until now?”
[Is it not different now?]
Saying so, he looked at Vera.
Vera grasped the meaning of that action.
No, it would be more accurate to say that he could now draw one conclusion from that action and everything he had witnessed so far.
“…Are you saying I am the reincarnation of your torn soul?”
[You’re a clever child.]
He laughed and spoke.
[You are different from me, and yet the same being. Fate will lead you to becoming the sacrifice one way or another. You will become the Lamb of God, to be bled for the next era.]
Ardain approached Vera.
[I am the first creation. And the last creation of the era as well. Such is my fate.]
He halted before Vera.
[And you, who bears this burden, will be the same. Alaysia exists for that purpose.]
Vera steeled himself.
It was to restrain his shaken mind, to grasp the meaning of those words.
“…You are the beginning of the era.”
Words that captured the essence of what Ardain conveyed.
To which he replied.
[Indeed, Alaysia is the end of the era.]
“The Smallest World is…”
[The name that closes the era.]
Vera asked next.
“Alaysia did all of this to stop your death, am I correct?”
Bitterness seeped into Ardain’s voice.
[Yes, that child tried to resist. Our shared fate, and the parting that waits at the end.]
The landscape flipped once more.
Vera recognized the scene this time.
Inside a tent, Alaysia was in full-term pregnancy and Ardain was interrogating her.
[Foolishly, the child acted greedy. She tried to create a replacement sacrifice for me.]
Ardain’s heart was ripped out.
Alaysia devoured it, and soon her body burst apart.
What emerged from that was a fetus in a blasphemous form.
[It was something she should never have done. So, I tried to stop her. But I may have hesitated.]
The fetus melted away.
Alaysia’s laughter followed the horrifying screams.
[I could have stopped her. But I did not.]
Vera silently listened to him.
[…Love is truly frightening. My greed to avoid tarnishing her heartfelt desire chained me down.]
Next, a long period from Alaysia’s perspective unfolded.
Alaysia, who had created a land of apostates and adorned herself in all kinds of evils, appeared.
In the end, she concealed her castle built on corruption beneath a lake and moved on.
[I knew what waited at the end of the path she walked, and how she would perish. But still, I couldn’t bring myself to harm her, and so…]
In the depths of her castle of corruption, she confined herself.
[…I tore myself apart.]
“What did you wish for?”
[For her to stop.]
“Why did you do that?”
[I wished for her to find peace.]
“Was that more important than the sacrifices of so many?”
Ardain fell silent.
Vera glared at him as he awaited an answer.
In a voice broken beyond description, Ardain replied.
[To me… it was.]
***
In the halted flow of time, Renee’s breath stopped.
– Can you hear me? No, the fact that you’re listening to this means you’ve come this far, so asking would be meaningless.
A clear voice resonated.
Somewhere in it was a mournful quiver.
– At last, you have made it here.
The voice she heard was her own.
