"That's when I definitely realized it. That you are endlessly going in circles."
It was also a yoke that was so miserable, terrible, and utterly wretched.
"I couldn't tell. Was what I remember everything, or was there a repetition that even I couldn't recall?"
It seemed that only Presepe and he were always returning to the same point... to the same past.
He couldn't know a single thing about what had happened, but there was something he could vaguely guess.
Right then, when Presepe threw herself into the lake.
Could it be because of that dazzling light that enveloped both her body and mine?
However, even Fenrir himself could not believe it. He did not know which regression this was. He could not even be sure where the real past began and ended, or what the future he had already experienced was.
“That’s why I engraved it”
"I drew each leaf individually."
"...One by one?"
"Yes, at first only the pillars were carved."
“I’m afraid of forgetting.”
"I carved it whenever a specific event occurred. I chose wood with that intention from the very beginning. Whenever I needed to remember and strengthen my resolve. One leaf. One leaf at a time."
"And, every time I carved a new leaf, I thought."
"But it looks like you had a lot to resolve to do. Seeing how many leaves there are."
"I said I would save you from that yoke no matter what."
"I don't know how you'll take this, but it's wonderful and pretty."
"Do you know how I felt when you said those words while looking at my chest?"
Fenrir stroked Presepe's cheek with a subtle smile.
"Like that, over hundreds of times, continuously..."
Every time Presepe repeated the cycle of dying and returning hundreds of times, Fenrir returned to that battlefield, as if being swept away by rough currents.
There were many times he clearly witnessed Presepe's death with his own eyes, but there were also quite a few times he did not.
Every time he returned to the past due to a death he hadn't even realized, Fenrir thought.
So you have died somewhere again, miserably and unjustly.
"I got to know it little by little."
Throughout the repeated regressions, Fenrir did not remain idle.
"It wasn't difficult. Because I already had all the memories. Unlike others, yeah, just like you."
As Presepe succeeded in advancing the game little by little—in other words, as the scope of the future Fenrir knew expanded—the amount of information that could be obtained also increased.
The first thing he found out was that he couldn't do anything when certain people appeared.
Therefore...
Dietrich and Ivan, Siegfried, Noah DeVern, Prince Attar.
And only they drove Presepe to her death.
With all kinds of reasons and all kinds of signs.
However, as long as he was not associated with Presepe and those men, Fenrir could also move and speak of his own free will. Whatever it was.
"I was the one who prepared it."
Staring at the vase on the bedside table... Fenrir continued speaking.
"Yes, the day we first met. With the same flowers I gave you back then."
It was probably when Presepe was trapped in the ice prison and had finished her meal.
Fenrir, who had sneaked into the empty tower, placed it like a gift just before the time she was scheduled to return, dragging her weakened body.
Because young Presepe's face, smiling while holding a bouquet of flowers in her arms, was sparkling brightly.
Because she said she liked it.
So, if there is any consolation.
Always trapped inside a cage-like meal, endless suffering for her.
Fenrir prayed like that.
"One day, I thought."
And it was around the time when such endless regression had repeated itself hundreds of times.
"Why don't I just steal you instead?"
He didn't know how it happened, but on the day Presepe threw herself into the lake, at least on that day, he was able to get close to Presepe.
However, since that was the only time Presepe acted erratically instead of coming straight to the banquet hall, it was impossible to guess if it would be possible.
Still, he tried to do it.
Somehow, he'll approach her before those dreadful men show up.
"I expected it, but it wasn't easy."
Despite repeated attempts, Presepe did not act impulsively as she did that day. Having given up on everything, and with a face as pale as a corpse, she simply headed toward the banquet hall like a cow being led to the slaughterhouse.
And so, it was a celebration that had been repeated countless times.
"That day, too, I had no choice but to just watch you."
Fenrir glared, clenching his teeth, as the male characters appeared one after another and approached.
It was filthy. That the very humans who had painfully killed, violated, and toyed with Presepe remembered nothing and were trying to repeat those acts again.
He would rather have killed them all.
But unfortunately, Fenrir could not even approach them. Even more so while the game was in progress.
"But then someone appeared and spoke to me."
"...You are doing something interesting."
It was a man with blonde hair and blue eyes.
Fenrir still remembered it vividly. Those ominous eyes, gleaming enough to give him goosebumps in the moonlight...
"Unfortunately, no matter what you do, you cannot approach her."
"And he told me. This world..."
"This place is inside a world artificially created by someone."
"It is all fiction."
At first, he thought he was out of his mind. He intended to leave him alone and go back.
However...
"It keeps repeating, doesn't it? With that woman."
The next words he spat out held Fenrir back.
"Shall I show you? The past and future you haven't seen."
Vidar smiled broadly and slowly reached out his hand.
Then, small screens appeared.
They were pictures.
To be precise, Presepe's paintings of suffering.
To suffer in agony with shackles all over the body. To hang oneself in a room filled with stuffed animals, reduced to nothing but skin and bones. To collapse while vomiting blood after consuming poison.
"That woman died far more often than you know, and suffered far more horrific fates."
"..."
"It will be the same in the future. It won't be any different. Because that woman is the protagonist of this world."
The main character.
Vidar laughed at Fenrir, who was at a loss for direction.
"This world was created solely for that woman."
But where is there a world that exists solely to inflict pain on one person?
As if he had already sensed that thought, Vidar continued speaking.
"It is that woman's fate to be toyed with and miserably abused by those men."
"...what?"
"Weren't you curious? Why can't you even approach?"
"In that fictional world, I."
"That's because you're not the male lead."
“It’s nothing.”
"You just mean a supporting character whose name and face are not recorded. Because you haven't been assigned any specific settings. Unable to even appear."
"So, no matter what I do, I won't be able to reach you."
"If that woman hadn't shown you kindness and spoken to you, and if you hadn't deviated from the original storyline, you wouldn't even dare to possess memories like this. Because you were just... nothing."
Fenrir, who had been speaking quietly, gave a bitter smile.
Actually, Fenrir's existence was a bug from that time on.
Received the sword from Presepe. And came to remember her.
So, from the moment he dared to develop a sense of purpose, wanting to meet Presepe again, despite being nothing more than an NPC...
In the end, even the only moment he could reach her, when Presepe was about to throw herself into the lake, was possible only because it was not the original plot of this game.
The reason the tattoos on his body didn't disappear was the same.
Fenrir's body, whose very existence had become a bug, was practically the best canvas for recording indelible records.
Thus, Fenrir, who had already transcended being a simple NPC and become a bug, got caught up in Presepe's regression and even ended up meeting Vidar.
Although Fenrir himself could not have known the detailed circumstances, that was the truth.
"..."
Fenrir quietly bit his lip.
And then, recalling that day, he still remembered vividly. He thought of the conversation with Vidar that he could never forget.
"So that woman will forever repeat the cycle of dying painfully."
"You... What on earth are you?"
Just what kind of being is it to know all these secrets? And how can it show future events that have already happened, as well as past events that no one knows, so vividly?
However, Vidar did not answer Fenrir's question.
"Shall I tell you how?"
Instead, he blurted out something else.
"Kill them."
"...what?"
"Kill those men, one by one. And take away. The qualifications of the protagonist."
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