POTC - Chapter 43

"Kill those men one by one. And take away the qualifications of the protagonist."

"... What?"

What on earth is this man babbling to me right now?

Fenrir could not easily understand Vidar's words.

"In this world, you are nothing but an insignificant being assigned no role whatsoever; that is also the reason you cannot approach that woman. But if I were to put it differently..."

"..."

"If you become the protagonist, it also means you can approach her."

Can I approach her?

To Presepe?

Fenrir paused greatly at his completely unexpected words, and Vidar continued speaking.

"You can talk to her, and you can touch her. You can kill her, just like those guys did. And of course, you can save her, too."

Wasn't that exactly what you wanted?

As he said that, Vidar laughed.

"Since you can't even easily approach her right now, I'll help you out the first time."

"Help...?"

"There is only one reason why you cannot kill those guys right now. They have roles assigned to them within this world, and rights that come with them. Unlike you, they move only according to their pre-set paths without any sense of self, so they don't even realize that fact."

But it's simpler than you think.

Vidar patted Fenrir on the shoulder and continued speaking.

"To be precise, all you have to do is break the same cycle they have repeated countless times. By creating a crack. With something that has never existed in the process that has been repeated until now."

Vidar’s words turned out to be spot on.

The male characters to whom Presepe chose the bug option all began to regain themselves like Fenrir and experienced a rift, just like Attar and Dietrich, who were confused by memories of previous episodes.

"Once you kill one, there won't be anything holding you back next."

"Next...?"

"Because, by nature, male protagonists can influence each other. Those idiots couldn't do that because they were just following a set path, but you're different, aren't you? So, everyone. You can kill them. If it's you.'

How much of that statement is true, and how much is a lie?

"The beginning was, yes."

To Fenrir, who was glaring at him without answering, Vidar showed another scene of unparalleled cruelty.

"What about this guy?"

It was the sight of Presepe in agony, her entire body shackled.

And Prince Attar, smiling with satisfaction in front of him

"It doesn't matter if you don't believe me."

"..."

"To keep watching that woman die a painful death forever, unable to do anything like this. Or to turn everything upside down..."

It means you have the choice.

Leaving those words behind, Vidar vanished. As if he had never even existed from the beginning.

The time for deliberation was not very long.

Not long after, news of Presepe's death reached him again.

They said she was found dead at Siegfried's mansion, but Fenrir instinctively knew.

The fact that it was Siegfried who killed Presepe.

And everything repeated itself, and that dreadful celebration approached again.

...So, as of now.

In the meantime, a leafy tree was engraved on Fenrir's chest.

Before leaving the mansion.

Standing before the mirror, Fenrir thought as he touched the tattoo that vividly showed the wretched times of Presepe.

Yeah, I'm going to make a choice this time too.

The way to get closer to you.

Even if we do not know what kind of results it will bring.

“You have no idea.”

Fenrir, looking down at the sleeping Presepe, muttered in a low voice as if spitting it out.

"How many emotions I felt on the day Prince Attar died."

Vidar was right.

Unlike last time, Fenrir was able to approach her.

Although he did not fully realize the reason, it was purely because Presepe had chosen the bug option that appeared to Attar.

A character who has manifested a bug is no longer protected by the system. Literally, because he became a bug due to a choice, getting rid of such an Attar was a very easy task.

And so, when he took away the qualification of Attar, who was one of the male protagonists...

He was also able to approach Noah DeVern without any particular difficulty.

"..."

Presepe's wheezing breath touched his hand, where the blue veins were standing on end.

Fenrir stopped his hand at the unfamiliar warmth, but soon slowly tucked Presepe's loosely disheveled silver hair behind her ear.

"If you knew all of this, what would you say?"

You're saying thank you because I pulled you out of that pit?

Or will you be afraid, asking how I could commit such an act over a mere act of charity from the past that you don't even remember?

Saying that this is nothing more than a simple obsession.

So, this isn't normal.

"But it doesn't really matter."

Fenrir thought that it wasn't that important, or that it would have any meaning now.

From that first meeting where he stubbornly handed her a flower, to the time when he went from an emaciated child wandering battlefields to a war hero.

And throughout the countless repetitions of returning from the position of a war hero back to the battlefield.

Because Fenrir thought of, thought of, and watched over only her.

There was a saying in Ateloia.

Those who have dreams but cannot achieve them are more miserable than those who do not dream.

He who has what he desires but ultimately cannot grasp it is more miserable than he who has nothing he desires.

They say that one who loves an impossible love is more miserable than one who harbors no feelings in their heart.

Whenever he ruminated on those words, Fenrir would think to himself.

...If so, am I three times more miserable because I cannot even approach you?

"Maybe Vidar is right."

So, in this world, I might be nothing, having been assigned no role whatsoever.

Something that can never be with you.

"So maybe that is why I had to live a life of begging day by day, as nothing."

However, Fenrir always made his own choices. Completely unlike male characters who act and speak merely according to assigned settings.

He chose to fight wielding Presepe's sword, and chose to approach her by any means necessary, even if it meant stealing someone else's qualifications.

Perhaps all of this itself was a destiny predetermined from the beginning.

It was you who held the sword, too.

Fenrir chuckled.

"Presepe, that kind of thing doesn't matter to me at all now."

So, as for a worthless fate, all that was needed was to carve it out with one's own hands.

As it has been until now.

"....I am a gift that the past you gave to the present you."

And so I will protect only you and become your own sword.

The only one in this world who can save you.

Presepe did not give any answer to Fenrir's words.

She simply gasped for breath and slightly furrowed her fine eyebrows.

"..."

Presepe's face, which looked slightly pained, was reflected in Fenrir's eyes, which glowed red in the dim moonlight.

Are you being chased even in your dreams? Are you in pain, or are you being victimized?

He couldn't figure it out.

Fenrir just looked down at Presepe in silence for a moment, then slowly lowered his head.

"It's okay, Presepe, because now you have me...."

Then, stroking Presepe's head, he spoke in a low, whispering voice into her ear.

"Whatever your fate is, you don't have to worry about that kind of thing anymore."

I can just change that for you.

Fenrir smiled quietly.

"..."

As large hands patted her shoulder at regular intervals, Presepe no longer groaned or frowned. Shr was simply in a deep sleep, just as she had been when Fenrir first entered the room.

Only then did Fenrir stroke Presepe's cheek with a satisfied look. For a very, very long time.

However, at that time, he was unaware.

Presepe’s goal is.

The wish she wants to fulfill the most is.

The fact that it is not about escaping from other male protagonists, finding comfort under someone's protection, or living a comfortable and peaceful life in this world.

That her wish is simply to return to reality.

Also. That leaving everyone's side, even Fenrir's soul, is Presepe's only dream.

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