“Damn, damn it.”
Acella, holed up in the Moonlight Palace, was consumed by a singular purpose.
She had to reclaim her magic.
Though Acella, always arrogant enough to consider herself at the top, was wise enough to objectify herself accurately.
When it came to talent in a particular field, there were indeed geniuses who could surpass her. Just looking within the Imperial Family, she wasn’t sure if she could outlead Heike in charisma.
But magic was different.
In magic, she was confident that she wouldn’t lose to anyone under the sky.
If only she hadn’t lost the talent for that magic.
“Just an ordinary person.”
What value did a mere human like Acella have?
Charisma fell short compared to Heike, her economic calculations were slower than George’s, and her sociability was lacking compared to Lau.
Even her character…
“…Hero.”
She couldn’t even catch up to the footsteps of someone born to be loved.
As time passed, it was only natural for her to drift further from the Emperor’s seat, and more than anything.
“Ras.”
She didn’t want to show any more weakness to her betrothed.
She firmly believed that he would never love a pathetic person like her. Therefore, Acella swore to reclaim her magic.
“That damn thing.”
The Hero, that dark cat, was actively pursuing Ras, seizing the chance while she was anxious. The fear of possibly losing him made her urgency even greater.
The place where Acella found clues to recover her talent was the closed basement of the Moonlight Palace.
It was the magic workshop of the witch, Camilla.
Of course, Camilla was the black magician she despised. Her mana was connected to demon contracts and summons, spells that had nothing to do with Acella.
However, Camilla was also a talented wizard who had reached a certain level in her craft. At the last moment, she could even cast spells beyond her talent.
Acella struggled to find even a slight clue.
At the end of it all, she stumbled upon information she should never have known.
“A spell to implant talent…?”
Black magic can make such miraculous feats possible? Results that could never be achieved in regular magic could be executed at a frightening cost.
As Acella carefully examined the price and side effects of the spell, she realized one shocking truth.
“…It’s the spell that was used on me.”
Her magic talent wasn’t entirely her own.
The uncomfortable truth dawned on her: it hadn’t been that her talent had vanished, but that the side effects had returned to normal thanks to Ras’s healing.
“…Hah.”
She was never destined to be a historic figure like Sage Seymour.
She was merely created by a deranged black magician.
“…I was the real monster.”
Blood flowed from her bitten lip.
Crash!
Throwing the book and unleashing magic, she turned the workshop into a mess, but it did nothing to quell her anger.
“Sigh, sigh.”
After sitting dazed in the workshop for a while, Acella reached a conclusion after hours of contemplation.
“If I didn’t have the talent to become a grand wizard…”
It meant that her life never held that much value to begin with.
It means that there was no value from the beginning.
“I am Acella von Württemberg.”
She would gain magic, her beloved man, and the throne of the Emperor, sacrificing anything in her way. Hasn’t she lived her life that way until now?
Acella opened the book again and confirmed the Basic Circle that serves as the principle of Black Magic.
“I will pay the price of my soul.”
Return it to me. The brilliant magic.
– Whoosh!
In response to her, five circles were drawn. However, the Basic Circle was a reversed purple rather than gold.
“Clairvoyance.”
The magic circle began to rotate violently, entering the casting phase.
Somewhere, Acella’s vision was sucked in, accompanied by the sensation of fragments of humanity breaking apart.
The place she stood resembled a battleground.
In the center stood her attending physician and the hero.
“Teacher Gothberg.”
With a confident smile, the Hero extended his hand to him.
“Come with me.”
Nodding, Lars took the Hero’s hand.
The two headed towards the battlefield, leaving the Empire behind.
‘…No way.’
Acella couldn’t believe the future that was coming.
Lars was leaving her.
He was choosing the hero over her, his betrothed and lord?
The worst scenario she had only imagined was becoming a reality, making her head spin.
She couldn’t let that happen.
Acella’s grip tightened around her wand.
—
—
No. 010: Holy Sword Destruction: 3%¿ 27%
No. 014: Unbinding: ¿31% ↔ 11%
No. 017: Party Collapse: ?42% ¿¿ 2%
No. 042: Hero’s End: 22% → 28%
…
—
Seeing the bad endings related to Lishe constantly changing and going haywire, Lars loosely predicted her condition.
Lishe often went into a trance state when fighting in the future. It was natural for her to hold a weapon when in battle.
Recently, whenever she showed a strange sign, she was also holding a Holy Sword.
“What if… Lishe was repeating it as well?”
Right now, Lishe was practically suffering from dissociative identity disorder.
If the future Lishe’s personality was intertwined with the Hero’s, her mental state was bound to be extremely unstable.
Naturally. There can’t be two personalities in one body.
A seemingly normal person can accumulate stress without even realizing it.
Especially for the future Lishe who had been experiencing that state in extreme situations, it was evident how unstable she would be.
It wasn’t a comfortable situation with a reincarnated ally.
At this rate, she would become an element that triggers a bad ending instead.
“…Lishe.”
Right now, Lars had to fulfill his obligations as the attending physician of the royal princess and as a doctor, of course.
I felt a stronger desire to help Lishe as her companion.
It was only a year, but perhaps it was thanks to spending time with her in her childhood that I could understand her a little better.
I vaguely sensed what sense of duty Lishe had to carry in the future.
I know the trigger. I have means to treat it.
[Counseling]
Lars immediately called Lishe and began to talk about the secret she had been hiding.
Caught in a secret, Lishe was quite flustered, but soon willingly resonated with the Holy Sword and summoned her.
“Lars.”
With her calm gaze, she called his name coyly.
“We’re familiar, aren’t we? Can I call you Charles from now on? It’s the name of someone I respect.”
Liking that name, Charles couldn’t help but smile bashfully.
“We talked about this at the end too.”
“At the end, huh?”
“Yeah. When I opened my eyes this time, I was relieved you were there. I always closed my eyes feeling anxious about where to go next, worried there wouldn’t be any hope in the situation.”
Charles had also vaguely realized it; it was Lars who had changed the past all this time.
The order of the timelines they crossed might have been a little misaligned. The places they stood at different times might have varied.
But the fact that he wasn’t the only one running toward the same goal…
The relief that he didn’t have to be lonely gave Charles a tremendous amount of courage.
“This time, we can do it. We just have to get over a few more mountains.”
[No. 010: Holy Sword Destruction 27% → 26%]
[Stress Stabilization ■■■■■□□□ Tension]
Lars tried sincerely to persuade her, but Charles’ condition didn’t improve immediately. It was a natural result after being exhausted for so long.
‘She might not be getting enough sleep.’
Wishing for her to be effective, Lars prescribed some hormones to normalize her physical responses. He instructed her to take serotonin and melatonin punctually while in a resonant state.
However, medical treatment was merely a supplementary help. To resolve Charles’ mental state, a fundamental improvement of the situation was necessary.
‘… I can’t talk about my true feelings.’
Charles kept the destructive impulse of wanting to break the Holy Sword a secret.
That was against Lars’ purpose, and he would undoubtedly incur his wrath if he did.
Of course, she also wanted to dream of a future with him.
A dream of starting a family like ordinary people, tilling the fields in spring, and aging normally.
How long had it been since she felt even such fantasies were a luxury?
Even in this relatively peaceful time, she couldn’t entirely keep her sanity due to the ongoing anxiety.
Moreover…
“What stories did you and the teacher talk about today?”
Completely unaware of her troubled heart, Lishe innocently struck up a conversation.
Even her own body didn’t belong to her.
Lishe was her past self, so it was only natural for her to fall for Lars and strive toward being the ideal hero.
Wasn’t pretending not to know and worsening the situation more like her doing?
One day, when Lische notices his feelings, there’s definitely going to be a big problem.
‘…I’m the meddler.’
Carrying the uncomfortable truth in his heart, even as time passed, Charles’s treatment was making slow progress.
*
“We need to treat the Hero’s multiple personalities before the expedition.”
After two months of counseling, Lars reached that conclusion.
“Dissociative Identity Disorder. This is more difficult than the situation with the Princess. It can’t even be solved with brain surgery.”
“Is it even a matter that can be approached with surgery? The Hero isn’t just an ordinary person, but a being of mystery…”
Hugo and the medical team, including Chloe, found it equally perplexing.
“At least due to consistent check-ups, we could clearly define the cause of the multiple personalities.”
“It’s soul overlap.”
“Charles’s soul is the Holy Sword. It constantly exerts an influence, dramatically affecting Lische’s prefrontal cortex and cerebral cortex when it resonates. Can you see the MRI results here?”
“It’s simple, isn’t it? Just separate the souls.”
“Or remove them…”
“I won’t consider removal.”
Lars declared firmly. He had long vowed not to sacrifice either Lische or Charles during the treatment process.
“Applying twin separation surgery to the soul is no different.”
“That sounds difficult.”
“Is it even possible…?”
“But even if we succeed in the separation, how will we observe Charles’s soul afterward?”
Chloe’s point made sense. Even if they separated them, it would only result in Charles being eternally isolated within the Holy Sword.
“…I want to hear the puppeteer’s opinion. I’m curious how similar a puppet could be to the actual human body if we applied alchemy.”
“Excuse me? Teacher, wait a minute. Are you saying you’ll put Charles’s soul into a created human body? That’s just necromancy. That’s black magic!”
Hugo protested, standing up abruptly. Lars crossed his arms, looking serious. He was right.
In the lengthy meeting with no sharp proposals emerging.
“Um….”
Chloe cautiously raised her hand.
“Not all spells that handle souls are black magic, are they?”
“Then?”
“How about sacred spells, like… the Holy Spirit or baptism.”
“Nurse, those are spells that correspond to the 7th tier even in sacred spells. Only a Saint can use them.”
“Oh, is that so.”
After hearing Chloe’s story, Lars fell deep in thought before speaking up.
“The Kingdom of Law will also participate in the martial arts conference in a few months.”
“Indeed.”
“Don’t you think they’ll hold a saint selection or something? They’ll bring holy relics too.”
Realizing Lars’s intentions, Hugo frowned in disbelief.
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