“Me? I... No, first!”
I looked back at William.
“Come? If a monster appears, Commander, come here?”
William blinked and nodded.
“...Yes. The commander of the imperial knight is in charge of this Shacht incident.”
“Wow!”
“Whoa!”
Ryan and I cheered...
We looked at each other again.
'Even if that's true for me, why Ryan...?'
I don't understand.
Ryan also didn't understand me, so he told William, "Wait a minute," and turned around, dragging me along.
He takes a few steps away, puts his arm around my shoulder, and whispers.
“Why do you like it so much?”
“What about dad?”
“Me? I... Heh heh, listen.”
He began to speak as if he were plotting something very evil.
“I’m joining this expedition. But the Third Prince is in charge of it, right?”
"Yes."
"I'll keep a close eye on him and rescue him if he seems to be about to fall. Then I'll have saved the life of a member of the royal family. That's truly a tremendous achievement."
"Oh."
If you had to save someone, you would have saved them. But there's no way that Nike, the person with superpowers, would have been saved... Ryan doesn't know.
“When the Third Prince was moved by me and was crying, I said, 'Your Highness, I just did what I had to do,' and then I persuaded him to let me meet the Crown Prince.”
“Oh, my.”
“You said that if you want to clear your name, you have to meet the Crown Prince at least once!”
So that was the intention.
"Yes, now it's your turn. Why are you so surprised by the Third Prince's voice? Your mouth is hanging open."
“...Of course, I thought the same thing as Dad! I knew the commander of the Knights Templar was His Highness the Third Prince. This was my chance to build a bridge with His Highness the Crown Prince!”
“Right? My smart daughter. As expected.”
Ryan returned to William, who was waiting with a proud look on his face.
"His Majesty the King himself is offering to personally provide an escort to our house. It would be impolite to refuse. I will gratefully accept."
"...Yes."
William glared at Ryan, who suddenly changed his mind, but nodded anyway.
“And I hope you will tell His Highness the Third Prince that I am deeply moved and grateful for his generous heart, which he has shown to all the people of the empire.”
“...?”
“Yes. You understand?”
Ryan chuckled.
William looked like he was wondering what the kid had eaten wrong...
“Well, let’s do that.”
He nodded again.
There were guards.
Wow... with the imperial knights.
“What the heck...”
Revan, who had been cooped up at home all day, doing nothing but research (he was starting to get scared about what he was making), came out for the first time in a while with his eyes wide open.
That makes sense.
From the mansion's main gate to the front yard walkway and even the backyard, anyone would be astonished to see ten high-ranking officials standing at an angle.
“This is a crazy waste of manpower.”
“This human?!”
"Clap!" Revan gave Ryan a refreshing pat on the shoulder.
"I heard you, so speak quietly. When will we ever be escorted by the imperial knights? Even the most luxurious of lives has never been this luxurious!"
“Ugh. My hands are so dirty.”
“But they’re truly a kind person. Why do you give people bodyguards when they crawl into a land where monsters run rampant and bother people?”
I agree with what Revan said.
It's a good thing he's as likable as Nike, but most high-ranking officials wouldn't care whether those crazy moths die or not.
"Don't you know noblesse oblige? The Third Prince has a moral obligation to look after even the lower classes like us."
“Oh, really. A scoundrel of noble blood who doesn’t know the duties of a nobleman, yet he talks so much about being noble.”
"Hey, you. You want to get in trouble? Don't get me involved with that little corner of the house!"
As I watched Ryan and Revan being affectionate, I coughed and looked away.
"It's not a given. It's something to be grateful for. Someone of royal blood even cares about people like us."
"I've heard rumors that His Highness the Third Prince is a very compassionate person. He possesses the military power to protect the country and the heart to sacrifice for the people. I see him as a symbol of a proper leadership class, possessing everything."
“...”
“...”
Gum gum gum.
The two men stared at me blankly.
“Revan. Don’t you have the face of the Third Prince?”
Then Ryan suddenly asked.
"You get it? We've been in prison together for over ten years, and you're asking such absurd questions."
“I see. I don’t know what the Third Prince looks like, but... I’ll bet my ass that he’s handsome.”
“Me too. Our bunny, who likes faces, has a long snout, so it’s definitely a must-have.”
“Oh, no! I don’t know his face either!”
The seasons return.
Like an uninvited guest who comes even when you never asked for it.
The Eastern Shacht incident, which left an indelible, horrific memory on a man named Nike Valencier, has returned just two months later.
A large room. But, sitting there, unadorned and bare, befitting his noble status... the man, Anton...
He thinks of his dead comrades.
"There's a wounded soldier who can't be helped with physical therapy. Could you help him just this once?"
"Huh? What? Are you asking me to do something? With your neck so stiff?"
He thinks of Anton's life, which was heavier than his knees and lighter than the future of the empire.
“...You’re being too strict with the entry screening for trade vessels? I’m talking about my brother’s ship. Could you just let it in?”
He heard that the woman's offer, which was not in exchange for Anton's life, ultimately fell into the hands of Wassenberg, who had taken control of the Western Demonic Crisis.
So why did I turn away from my comrade's life?
“Anton...”
A breath mixed with a sense of loss and self-loathing forced the words out of his comrade's name.
It's painful. And he feels resentful.
Who?
The demon who killed his comrades? Wassenberg, who is devouring the nation? The infinitely weak imperial family?
No.
In the end, he is powerless, unable to protect anything, unable to do anything...
Nike feels terribly resentful.
People with special abilities.
However, the created ability user.
The limitations are clear, so it is infinitely weak...
Four years old.
He became a person with the ability <Poem of Retrograde Movement>, which was artificially implanted.
Although he was young, he could recall memories from after he acquired this ability as clearly as if it happened yesterday.
“Those who possess <The Poem of Retrograde> can vividly recall all memories from the moment the ability manifested.”
"So, even if you, a young child, don't understand it right away, you will never forget this conversation we had. And you must never forget it."
It was the former Duke of Wassenberg who passed this ability on to Nike.
He knew that his power had been successfully transferred to Nike, and he had confirmed this dozens of times.
And then he explained the 'limits' of the created ability user that he had finally figured out.
"You have only 30 minutes to regress with your memories intact. Don't rewind any further. There's nothing you can change now that you've lost your memories."
And he asked.
“Absolutely, no matter what happens, you must not let the Wassenbergs discover your abilities.”
"If you rewind time while in contact with someone with special abilities, you'll both regress together, each with their own memories. Then your powers will inevitably be revealed."
“So, absolutely...”
“Ugh.”
Suddenly, he got a headache.
“Do not contact those with special abilities.”
A moment when he remembered a long-held request.
For some reason, his head hurt so much that he felt like it was going to split open, so he gritted his teeth.
A clear conversation.
And, the memories...
It is split and reconstructed.
“Ugh... ugh.”
“Do not contact those with special abilities.”
“Take my hand.”
"Ah."
What is this memory?
It wasn't his, but it was his.
In a blurry scene, he reaches out to someone.
Disobeying the command engraved in his bones.
He's so easily revealing the secret he's been carrying his whole life.
“You can check it.”
“Ahhh!”
The more he tries to dig up his memories, the worse the pain of his brain being eaten away becomes.
“Are you an idiot? Why are you telling me this... this secret?”
Who is it?
Who the hell are you?
He wants to find out, but he can't see the other person's face.
As if trapped in a hazy fog.
Is it a fantasy?
Dream? Nightmare?
“I mean, I want you to believe me.”
In a memory of unknown origin, he was talking to someone.
A life-or-death secret...
Why?
"You..."
Why me anyway?
Why are you doing this?
Wherefore?
“I love you.”
...
“I love you. Truly.”
I looked back at William.
“Come? If a monster appears, Commander, come here?”
William blinked and nodded.
“...Yes. The commander of the imperial knight is in charge of this Shacht incident.”
“Wow!”
“Whoa!”
Ryan and I cheered...
We looked at each other again.
'Even if that's true for me, why Ryan...?'
I don't understand.
Ryan also didn't understand me, so he told William, "Wait a minute," and turned around, dragging me along.
He takes a few steps away, puts his arm around my shoulder, and whispers.
“Why do you like it so much?”
“What about dad?”
“Me? I... Heh heh, listen.”
He began to speak as if he were plotting something very evil.
“I’m joining this expedition. But the Third Prince is in charge of it, right?”
"Yes."
"I'll keep a close eye on him and rescue him if he seems to be about to fall. Then I'll have saved the life of a member of the royal family. That's truly a tremendous achievement."
"Oh."
If you had to save someone, you would have saved them. But there's no way that Nike, the person with superpowers, would have been saved... Ryan doesn't know.
“When the Third Prince was moved by me and was crying, I said, 'Your Highness, I just did what I had to do,' and then I persuaded him to let me meet the Crown Prince.”
“Oh, my.”
“You said that if you want to clear your name, you have to meet the Crown Prince at least once!”
So that was the intention.
"Yes, now it's your turn. Why are you so surprised by the Third Prince's voice? Your mouth is hanging open."
“...Of course, I thought the same thing as Dad! I knew the commander of the Knights Templar was His Highness the Third Prince. This was my chance to build a bridge with His Highness the Crown Prince!”
“Right? My smart daughter. As expected.”
Ryan returned to William, who was waiting with a proud look on his face.
"His Majesty the King himself is offering to personally provide an escort to our house. It would be impolite to refuse. I will gratefully accept."
"...Yes."
William glared at Ryan, who suddenly changed his mind, but nodded anyway.
“And I hope you will tell His Highness the Third Prince that I am deeply moved and grateful for his generous heart, which he has shown to all the people of the empire.”
“...?”
“Yes. You understand?”
Ryan chuckled.
William looked like he was wondering what the kid had eaten wrong...
“Well, let’s do that.”
He nodded again.
***
There were guards.
Wow... with the imperial knights.
“What the heck...”
Revan, who had been cooped up at home all day, doing nothing but research (he was starting to get scared about what he was making), came out for the first time in a while with his eyes wide open.
That makes sense.
From the mansion's main gate to the front yard walkway and even the backyard, anyone would be astonished to see ten high-ranking officials standing at an angle.
“This is a crazy waste of manpower.”
“This human?!”
"Clap!" Revan gave Ryan a refreshing pat on the shoulder.
"I heard you, so speak quietly. When will we ever be escorted by the imperial knights? Even the most luxurious of lives has never been this luxurious!"
“Ugh. My hands are so dirty.”
“But they’re truly a kind person. Why do you give people bodyguards when they crawl into a land where monsters run rampant and bother people?”
I agree with what Revan said.
It's a good thing he's as likable as Nike, but most high-ranking officials wouldn't care whether those crazy moths die or not.
"Don't you know noblesse oblige? The Third Prince has a moral obligation to look after even the lower classes like us."
“Oh, really. A scoundrel of noble blood who doesn’t know the duties of a nobleman, yet he talks so much about being noble.”
"Hey, you. You want to get in trouble? Don't get me involved with that little corner of the house!"
As I watched Ryan and Revan being affectionate, I coughed and looked away.
"It's not a given. It's something to be grateful for. Someone of royal blood even cares about people like us."
Taking advantage of a break to slap gold paint on my boyfriend's face...!
“...”
“...”
Gum gum gum.
The two men stared at me blankly.
“Revan. Don’t you have the face of the Third Prince?”
Then Ryan suddenly asked.
"You get it? We've been in prison together for over ten years, and you're asking such absurd questions."
“I see. I don’t know what the Third Prince looks like, but... I’ll bet my ass that he’s handsome.”
“Me too. Our bunny, who likes faces, has a long snout, so it’s definitely a must-have.”
“Oh, no! I don’t know his face either!”
***
The seasons return.
Like an uninvited guest who comes even when you never asked for it.
The Eastern Shacht incident, which left an indelible, horrific memory on a man named Nike Valencier, has returned just two months later.
A large room. But, sitting there, unadorned and bare, befitting his noble status... the man, Anton...
He thinks of his dead comrades.
"There's a wounded soldier who can't be helped with physical therapy. Could you help him just this once?"
"Huh? What? Are you asking me to do something? With your neck so stiff?"
He thinks of Anton's life, which was heavier than his knees and lighter than the future of the empire.
“...You’re being too strict with the entry screening for trade vessels? I’m talking about my brother’s ship. Could you just let it in?”
He heard that the woman's offer, which was not in exchange for Anton's life, ultimately fell into the hands of Wassenberg, who had taken control of the Western Demonic Crisis.
So why did I turn away from my comrade's life?
“Anton...”
A breath mixed with a sense of loss and self-loathing forced the words out of his comrade's name.
It's painful. And he feels resentful.
Who?
The demon who killed his comrades? Wassenberg, who is devouring the nation? The infinitely weak imperial family?
No.
In the end, he is powerless, unable to protect anything, unable to do anything...
Nike feels terribly resentful.
People with special abilities.
However, the created ability user.
The limitations are clear, so it is infinitely weak...
***
Four years old.
He became a person with the ability <Poem of Retrograde Movement>, which was artificially implanted.
Although he was young, he could recall memories from after he acquired this ability as clearly as if it happened yesterday.
“Those who possess <The Poem of Retrograde> can vividly recall all memories from the moment the ability manifested.”
"So, even if you, a young child, don't understand it right away, you will never forget this conversation we had. And you must never forget it."
It was the former Duke of Wassenberg who passed this ability on to Nike.
He knew that his power had been successfully transferred to Nike, and he had confirmed this dozens of times.
And then he explained the 'limits' of the created ability user that he had finally figured out.
"You have only 30 minutes to regress with your memories intact. Don't rewind any further. There's nothing you can change now that you've lost your memories."
And he asked.
“Absolutely, no matter what happens, you must not let the Wassenbergs discover your abilities.”
"If you rewind time while in contact with someone with special abilities, you'll both regress together, each with their own memories. Then your powers will inevitably be revealed."
“So, absolutely...”
“Ugh.”
Suddenly, he got a headache.
“Do not contact those with special abilities.”
A moment when he remembered a long-held request.
For some reason, his head hurt so much that he felt like it was going to split open, so he gritted his teeth.
A clear conversation.
And, the memories...
It is split and reconstructed.
“Ugh... ugh.”
“Do not contact those with special abilities.”
“Take my hand.”
"Ah."
What is this memory?
It wasn't his, but it was his.
In a blurry scene, he reaches out to someone.
Disobeying the command engraved in his bones.
He's so easily revealing the secret he's been carrying his whole life.
“You can check it.”
“Ahhh!”
The more he tries to dig up his memories, the worse the pain of his brain being eaten away becomes.
“Are you an idiot? Why are you telling me this... this secret?”
Who is it?
Who the hell are you?
He wants to find out, but he can't see the other person's face.
As if trapped in a hazy fog.
Is it a fantasy?
Dream? Nightmare?
“I mean, I want you to believe me.”
In a memory of unknown origin, he was talking to someone.
A life-or-death secret...
Why?
"You..."
Why me anyway?
Why are you doing this?
Wherefore?
“I love you.”
...
“I love you. Truly.”
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