Chapter 62: ???

Water droplets bloom.

Like countless bubbles rising and falling.

Surging for a moment, then subsiding in an instant.

Among those many, many bubbles.

A slender finger touches a single droplet.

And then.

She peers inside.

…….

A place where skeletal branches grow thick, forming dense forests and mountain valleys.

It likely means that such a place has remained untouched by human hands.

The wind, blowing like a blade through the darkness, soon snaps and shakes the branches that had tried to grow, if only slightly.

For trees with shallow roots, it even snaps their waists, breaking them clean.

It may be spring in the inland, but here, even that is a grueling struggle.

Gathering a heap of broken branches as if carrying a backpack, he headed deeper into the valley.

At the place he was heading, a small cabin stood.

After setting down the branches to be used as firewood, he moved to a spot slightly away from the cabin and scooped up river water—some of which was frozen or skimmed with thin ice—as if filling a jar.

Carrying it back, and repeating the process several times with a new jar.

The dawn fades.

Yet it is still early morning.

However, as always, the morning in the forest is utterly chilly and dark.

Having finished the basic preparations, he soon diligently gathered his hunting tools.

Navigating the forest paths and the spaces between trees with familiarity.

He finished off the faint breath of a small animal caught in a trap.

With practiced ease, he separated the hide from the flesh.

Removing and scattering the blood and entrails, he set another lure-accompanied trap.

Then, he moved again.

Roughly masking the scent of blood with snow, sand, and soil.

If the wind blew strongly, the beasts’ sense of smell would easily detect him.

Thus, he moved while considering the opposite direction as much as possible, but the fickle nature of the wild does not always obey.

In such times, one can only accept it.

Even so.

All that were caught in the traps he set were small things.

He consoled his disappointment by even pulling out wood-eating insects that had burrowed beneath the bark of a few trees.

Only when the sun began to pierce through the interior of the forest did he return to the cabin.

Opening the door with familiarity and stepping inside.

Looking around the interior, which felt almost hollow, he took a moment to catch his breath.

Sitting blankly, he pushed firewood into the empty stove and lit a fire.

Then, sitting in a nearby chair, he simply watched the scene in silence.

Just then.

The door opened, and someone entered.

“I’m home.”

The man remained still before turning his gaze toward them.

However.

Nothing is visible.

As if the world had broken, everything was so warped and distorted that.

…Nothing.

Something had come and gone.

But he could not tell what.

“…….”

No.

It was simply that he had become unable to tell.

That is how the story goes.

Where did it all go wrong?

He knew.

Having repeated, recalled, and agonized over it countless times—tens, hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of times.

Though the conclusion was all too clear, he wondered if, in truth, it had nothing to do with that fact.

“…….”

Yes.

To be precise, perhaps it went astray from that moment.

He had accepted Alessia’s proposal.

He had allowed her to accompany him.

Was that why?

As the Demon King pointed out, he had become far too fragile.

No, to the point where he couldn’t even perceive such a thing.

He had become wretched.

Certainly, when crises, trials, and hardships arrived, he had managed to overcome them, if not skillfully.

But the deciding factor was.

…In the end, the Sword of Grandeus did not accept such a man.

That is the story.

A failure of only that magnitude.

Yet for some reason, everything seemed to tangle from that point onward.

Ultimately, all he could do was head for a distant place.

Forcing his original goals and contract terms deep into the recesses of his memory.

He devoted himself entirely to a flight of escape.

But where did the rumors spread from?

That he had formed an Alliance with the Demon King, that he was a successor—all sorts of stories circulated.

The number of people tracking him gradually increased.

Of course, he struck them all down.

But even that had its limits.

No, still, he managed to stay hidden.

Thinking he would settle down in a far-off place with Alessia and live well.

Even if such a life was guaranteed a future that was absurdly miserable.

At the time, I was too exhausted.

“…….”

He fills the stove with dry firewood.

Like a phantom, the flames consume the wood as if searching for prey.

Years passed in such a manner.

He had a child, and just as he was becoming accustomed to life.

Everything collapsed.

Alessia died, and the child was taken.

After that, truly, driven by the single-minded desire to find the child, he scoured every possible place.

As a result, he became a grand slaughterer, piling up all sorts of false accusations and infamy.

Now, he had reached a state where he could not properly set foot anywhere.

…That didn’t matter.

However, the child was still not found.

Not even a clue.

Is it this burdensome to have nothing to rely on?

No matter how much he racked his brain or tried to grasp a lead.

Where was he supposed to start?

He had already tried every attempt possible.

“…….”

He adds more firewood.

He feels hungry.

Outside, the light was already slowly fading.

It becomes like this in the blink of an eye.

What am I doing?

Nothing.

…Nothing.

The Demon King had left, saying they would go with the child, that it seemed more enjoyable that way.

At that time, what did that fellow say?

[A flight of escape with a predetermined end. Don’t you think it’s pathetic, looking back?]

No matter how much one deceives oneself through self-deception.

In the end, the sun rises and the moon sets.

“…….”

He realizes it.

Ultimately, because he was complacent and sought to settle.

This disaster occurred.

Every tragedy stemmed, in the end, from his own weakness and foolishness.

If it hadn’t been me, she wouldn’t have ended up like that.

And….

That child would never have been treated that way by birth.

“…….”

I must find them.

But what to start with, and where?

Once again, he hits a wall.

Even this is a thought, a logic, and an agony he has repeated tens, hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of times.

It is not easy.

It is not easy.

And so the sun sets, and the moon waxes.

His body gradually grows old.

Yet, his will for life rarely awakens.

To head somewhere again.

It would mean slaughtering and executing everything that stands in his way once more.

…….

Ye… …ah?

At a voice that seemed to echo from afar, his eyelids lifted instinctively.

“…….”

Holding the sword he had been clutching, he stepped out of the cabin door.

When had he been holding it?

I don’t understand.

“Huh?”

As he opened the door, there stood a young man, a girl, and a man—three people he had never seen in his life.

Among them, one young man.

His gaze was instinctively drawn to that youth.

White hair, as white as the fluttering snowflakes.

Perhaps similar to silver.

His two eyes were as firm as gold.

Even the contours of his face… were similar.

“…….”

To feel fate in such a way.

It was simply absurd.

“Are you the master of this place?”

The young man asked in a polite tone.

“Did you come here to see some forest sage? We’re here to find a murderous slaughterer, aren’t we?”

The girl beside him snapped in an irritable tone.

“Ahem!”

The man cleared his throat to warn her to be cautious.

“…….”

What does it matter.

One thing was clear.

“Are you the child of the Hero?”

At that, the red-haired girl smirked.

“Oh? You actually know. Have you become famous, son of the Hero?”

“…I told you not to do that.”

The white-haired youth frowned as if embarrassed.

“Excuse me, but we wish to ask if you are the person we are searching for.”

The man had clearly perceived the other’s identity to some extent.

Yet, he maintained his courtesy.

“…….”

I remained silent.

What was I supposed to say?

That your father is also my father.

And you, red-haired brat, seeing as you’ve inherited the Royal Bloodline traits so perfectly, you seem to be of that birth.

…As for the man, I don’t know.

“…….”

What should I say?

“So, what is your business?”

Then the girl stepped forward and criticized.

“If you are indeed that rumored slaughterer, you must receive rightful punishment. Turning over a few Lord’s Domains and cleaning out various guilds and back-alley organizations was a good thing, but… you laid hands on too many innocent people.”

“…….”

Innocent, huh.

Of course, there may have been innocent ones.

But if one weighs every such detail.

When would the sword ever be swung?

When would the pursuit ever happen?

“How did you find this location?”

“Why do you want to know?”

The girl’s attitude was the definition of arrogance.

But why?

It wasn’t that annoying.

Even though it was far removed from any sense of kinship or familiarity.

Strangely.

“……So. What is it you want to do?”

“I’ve already said it! Either be arrested, or if you resist… have your limbs severed.”

“Hey. You really… Sigh!”

The youth placed a hand on his forehead with a troubled expression.

“Her words were a bit harsh, but that is exactly the case.”

“Doesn’t it occur to you that you might be harassing an innocent man?”

“Your physical characteristics are too distinct.”

Long black hair and an average build.

A beard that had grown wild without being trimmed.

“Black hair is common in the Empire, but… this isn’t even Imperial land.”

“…And yet you intend to take me away?”

“Because we were asked to.”

The red-haired girl cut in again.

“Our Sister-in-law personally ordered this, so we can’t just let it slide.”

“…Sigh.”

Sister-in-law.

Considering the causal relationship where that brat would call someone a sister-in-law within the Imperial Family….

“…Are you the daughter of Enzul’s Branch House?”

At that, the red-haired girl gasped.

“What?! How do you know that?! Did I mention my name or status earlier?”

“…….”

This made it certain.

“…Is it Eras?”

It couldn’t be Seras.

And it certainly couldn’t be Elhermina.

Then… it’s obvious, isn’t it?

Even if it were a mistake, it wouldn’t particularly matter.

‘Even after coming all this way, a bad relationship is still a bad relationship, I see.’

A hollow laugh escaped him.

Furthermore, the youth before his eyes.

……Was he not his child?

“Can we not resolve this through conversation?”

Perhaps sensing the other’s fighting spirit.

The youth asked warily.

“Then step back. If you never linger around here again, I will let it pass this time.”

“What?! Let it pass?! This crazy bastard?!”

The fiery girl seemed to take that as a blatant insult.

She immediately conjured fire in her hand and shot it toward him.

“Huh?”

It scattered futilely.

“…….”

I still have.

This sort of thing remaining.

Coincidentally.

“You must not know that if you kill me, the Empire will fall.”

Not just the Empire.

Right now, I am merely a medium, a transmitter, a carrier of a curse.

And yet I am this miserable.

Even though the curse has not yet been activated.

“Well, do as you wish.”

I must rescue the child.

But even if I do, the future remaining for that child is nothing more than being the medium to receive the curse I pass on.

Rather.

…It might be better to die as soon as possible.

No, didn’t the Demon King say it?

That even death would lose its meaning.

“…….”

I had foreseen this tragedy long ago.

Why did I commit such a regrettable act?

I only….

‘Wanted to be a little more comfortable.’

That was truly a great greed.

That I would have to repeat this to myself every single day.

“Come.”

All that remains is a paltry sword.

The immediate task of defeating my father was meaningless.

Even now, my father is the strongest on the continent, enjoying his Prime Era without a moment to grow old.

On the other hand, what about me?

My body grew old, and I grew dull.

Far from a prime era, both my body and mind.

Are dying day by day.

It is my fault.

I should have borne it entirely alone.

Intoxicated by the kindness of being supported and having a shoulder to lean on.

…I committed too great a mistake.

‘I hate it.’

Not even regret arises.

The thought of returning to those days is even more unthinkable.

What has happened has happened.

Therefore, I….

“—!!”

Whether I die by the hands of those before me.

Or die buried under another trial.

In the end, my conclusion will remain unchanged.

――

Pop!

A water droplet bursts.

A beautiful finger.

The tip of that fingernail finally applied pressure and popped the droplet.

A story that might have been.

But was not.

Thus, once again.

It burst away without a trace.