Message (2)

The Blade of Devastation thoroughly mocked me and my companions before disappearing.

That is, all traces of his presence vanished from the child’s body.

But even after he disappeared, I couldn’t move.

My thinking had been narrow. I’d been too dogmatic about this situation.

I should have considered Claire’s feelings. It was a mistake to superimpose the future version of her I knew.

She still hadn’t completely gotten over Burke’s incident.

She wasn’t mentally prepared to intellectually accept and emotionally endure everything I was doing.

“Lost…”

Línea was looking at me with a worried expression.

It’s funny. The one who should be worried isn’t me.

Well, I suppose it can’t be helped since the person directly involved has fainted.

And well…

“If you’re already wavering, maybe it’s better to stop.”

“Is it?”

Titan crosses his arms and remarks with a sideways stance.

His words hit the mark.

I already started wavering the moment Claire tried to stop me.

It means my heart was shaken.

As a heresy inquisitor, this is the right path. These children can’t be saved anyway.

The only future left for them is to live like puppets, become killers, and eventually be hunted down.

The only choices I can offer them are either a death as painless as possible or imprisonment in a place where they won’t be entangled with others.

But well…

“…Perhaps this requires more consideration.”

Not for me as I am now.

The second choice originally stemmed from the hope that they could be saved. Now it’s become essentially an empty platitude after thousands of years of stagnation with no improvement.

But I don’t need to give up.

I became a heresy inquisitor because I couldn’t become a Templar or a paladin. That was the best I could do at the time.

I just wanted to be of help to the Saintess who had saved me.

But now things are different.

“Now, I’m in a position where I must take responsibility.”

I have become an apostle.

I traveled back in time with the aspirations of the Saintess engraved on my back.

Someone like me shouldn’t give up so easily.

I must always do my best.

“So surely,”

I reach out toward the children who had fallen asleep after crying themselves out.

“This is the right thing to do.”

*     *      *

She couldn’t hold back. No, that’s not it. She had doubted him. She had wondered if Lost might be an evil person.

Perhaps it was because of how he punished the assassins who came for him. Though she knew it was just for show, to send a message to whoever sent them, still, seeing such scenes…

‘I shouldn’t have.’

The situation is different. There’s no need to show mercy to assassins who came for his life unprovoked.

Professional killers.

There’s no greater purpose there, only monetary relationships.

Children who were deceived, who didn’t know better when they picked up weapons, are different.

She knows that’s not what Lost wanted either. Just innocent children deceived by half-demons.

She knew there was no salvation left for them.

She had already learned and experienced this.

She had felt it deeply through the death of my family member, Burke Ryan.

The ones at fault weren’t Lost but the half-demons and demons who deceived the children.

But…

‘Why did I then…’

She overlapped them.

She saw her younger self and Burke in those children.

Nothing had changed.

Claire hadn’t overcome anything. She was just pretending.

Nothing had changed from when she harbored one-sided hatred toward Lost.

“……”

Claire quietly opened her eyes.

She felt the warmth of a thick blanket and saw the flickering campfire nearby.

And there was Lost, reading a book in the faint light in front of it.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?”

Lost already knew Claire was awake. Claire could feel it too. That’s why she asked.

Whether he intended to blame her for her foolish actions.

“Claire.”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t pull the trigger.”

“But I aimed at you.”

If Lost hadn’t called her name then, she might have pulled it. The fact that she pointed the gun meant she had already decided to attack him.

“Even if you had pulled it, I would have been fine.”

“That doesn’t excuse it.”

“Why?”

“Excuse me?”

“Would you prefer if I criticized you?”

“……”

He hit the mark.

That’s what she had wanted to ease her mind.

Claire neither denied nor refuted it.

She just kept looking at Lost.

“You might be right.”

“About pointing a gun at you?”

“About trying to stop me.”

Lost examined the cause, not the outcome. Half-demons cannot be saved. They’re already no different from moving corpses whose flesh has been consumed by demonic energy.

If one want to describe them, perhaps “undead with vitality” would be appropriate?

So they must guide them. They must free them from those shackles. But well…

“I should have been more hopeful.”

The choices offered by a heresy inquisitor.

Die or be imprisoned for a time close to eternity. He hadn’t forgotten the weight of those outcomes, but he had forgotten the purpose of those choices.

“This may be hard for you to hear, but perhaps I was too quick to conclude that the future awaiting those children was nothing but despair.”

They can be saved.

Could Lost accomplish what nobody in history has managed to do?

It’s doubtful. It’s impossible.

Even if one kill the demon who created the half-demons, there’s no law saying they’ll return to being human.

Those placed in a clear hierarchy, unable to resist the command system they’re in.

Such beings are essentially tangled together with invisible strings. Cutting one doesn’t help if they’re connected elsewhere.

“That guy called me an ‘idiotic prophet.'”

“That’s…”

“Well, he’s not wrong.”

Lost traveled back in time.

That could indeed make him a prophet who foresees the future.

But there’s something the prophets who left their mark on this world have said.

Even if you see the future, you shouldn’t try to change it recklessly.

“Someone like me shouldn’t take human lives too lightly.”

Of course, assassins who come to kill him are different.

The price of seeing the future doesn’t mean he has to accept indiscriminate malice.

But he must carefully consider the future he’s trying to change.

Lost had named this journey a journey of losing. That’s why he called himself by that name.

Because it’s a karma that he, a regressor, an idiotic prophet who has taken away the opportunities of many, must bear.

“If you hate me, I should accept that. It’s my fault that I made you this way, that I arbitrarily limited the opportunities you could have had.”

Perhaps the tragedy with Burke Ryan was something that had to accompany her growth.

Evidence of this is that Claire still hasn’t awakened her holy power.

Therefore, Lost, who has been depriving others of their opportunities just because he knows the future, is a foolish human.

“And I’ll continue to be.”

But he has no intention of stopping.

Despite coming back in time regardless of his own will, he ultimately decided to do what the Saintess of Heaven wanted.

The one who did the dirtiest work in the Pantheon Temple now does dirty work under the will of the gods.

“So I must create new opportunities equivalent to those I’ve taken away. I must naturally accept the discomfort.”

“Lost…?”

“Claire Ryan. You were right to point your gun at me then. If you hadn’t tried to stop me in that way, those children would have had no opportunity.”

Only then could Claire see Lost’s complexion, which had been hidden by the campfire’s light.

He looked more tired and pale than usual.

“What did you do?”

“Something simple.”

Lost smiled.

Despite being drenched in fatigue, that smile was brighter than ever before.

Like someone who had solved a long-standing problem… Yes, just like Línea’s smile on the day she resolved her issues.

“I just did what I could.”

Vicarious Saint, Cielo.

He had lived his life as a heresy inquisitor. Such a life created his past actions and shaped his future path.

Something every heresy inquisitor experiences. Worrying and suffering.

Foolish young lambs who have lost their freedom regardless of their will.

The chains around their necks.

“I just saved those children.”

A substitute method has emerged.

Lost leaned back slightly, showing Claire what was behind him. There was a group of children sleeping soundly.

*     *      *

I’m already a dead man walking.

The reason I was able to grasp this second chance is thanks to the Saintess.

Because of her aspiration, which has literally evaporated from this world without even leaving her name behind.

I am here now.

I’ve traveled back in time and trampled on the opportunities of countless people.

Surely I am a sinner.

Even if I live solely for good deeds from now on, it’s not something I can be forgiven for.

Due to my stubbornness alone, this world has become too twisted.

It has flowed in a direction completely different from its original course.

So I must not hesitate.

I must pay the price.

I must not hesitate out of self-preservation in front of those I can save.

“Actually, I knew this would happen from the beginning.”

While Claire was turning pale as if she had figured something out.

Línea was sobbing from a slightly farther place.

I had already explained the situation to her before Claire woke up.

“Blood symbolizes life. Then, shedding sacred blood every time you exercise power means…”

It means consuming life.

I thought my power wasn’t complete. I thought it was dangerous.

That’s why I believed it came with such a penalty.

“But blood naturally refills over time. There won’t be any problems using my power in the future.”

The blood I shed will recover later. Using chains recklessly to fight so far hasn’t been an issue.

“But it’s different now, isn’t it?”

Línea speaks in a muffled voice with her ears drooping.

Yes, it’s different now.

If you seal the area so that the blood once shed cannot be refilled, such a loss is only natural.

“Nothing lasts forever. You have to pay the appropriate price.”

The children now freed from their bondage.

Chains as white as snow hang around their necks like necklaces.

Chains I created with my power.

Using those chains, I completely severed the demonic influence and replaced the demonic energy that had infiltrated their bodies with holy power.

Yes, it’s similar to creating half-demons.

Of course, since I overlaid the original influence, it’s only natural to pay a suitable price, unlike those who simply breathed demonic energy into them to create half-demons.

“No need to worry. What I’ve removed is just a tiny fraction of my lifespan.”

I’ve always thought about it.

Always suffered over it.

Those who became half-demons without even knowing it. Those who had no choice and inevitably became so.

The helplessness I felt every time I killed or imprisoned them.

A means to solve that helplessness has been found. I’ve solved a problem that remained unresolved for thousands of years.

“But this can’t be a perfect solution. I know that too.”

More people are falling into becoming half-demons than I can save at the cost of my lifespan.

Still, it doesn’t matter.

I probably won’t hesitate in front of situations like this in the future either.

A life already saved once. I’m just using that life in a fitting place.

I don’t think of it as being used for complete strangers.

Everyone I’ll meet in this world from now on has had their opportunities taken away by the time I’ve traveled back.

If they aren’t evil, if they’re seeking salvation.

I will rightfully do so.

“So, Claire Ryan.”

But that’s not enough. I need to solve the fundamental problem.

Now I understand.

This isn’t something I can solve with my efforts alone.

“I’ll ask you, from whom I’ve taken away the most opportunities.”

To defeat the King of Darkness, Belial.

For that goal, this isn’t enough. That cunning demon will continue to extend his reach to my companions.

“Are you okay remaining as you are?”

So now there’s no luxury of waiting leisurely for Claire’s awakening.

She needs to become stronger.

Otherwise, in the middle of this journey, she will surely collapse.