That day, Acella von Condenburg’s world crumbled.
―”The three of us will stick together until the end.”
Lars’ eyes were filled with confidence as he said this.
Together, forever, no matter how long.
Acella had never heard such words from Lars before.
Wasn’t their bond just a mere social contract as betrothed?
The scene she witnessed while searching for Lars.
What she saw through her clairvoyance became reality, and in the worst possible form, leaving Acella utterly drained.
At that moment, the Hero’s expression.
The face of a woman who couldn’t contain her joy from being loved.
…Why?
Why was I not chosen?
She realized that there was no point in trying to interfere with the two, push Lars, or hold on any longer.
Doing so would only breed more hatred.
On her way back to the Empire, Acella was overwhelmed with a crushing sense of defeat.
Lars and the Hero soon set off for their expedition.
It was to gather artifacts necessary for their assault on the Demon King.
From now on, the entire continent would be their stage. Acella’s medical duties would effectively be transferred to the sub-physician, and they would chase after the emerging battlefields, supported by the allied forces.
There was no place for Acella, the Royal Princess, to intrude.
Even joining the Hero’s party as a wizard was impossible. That spot was taken by a mage from the Mage Nation called Sumaya.
To prove herself superior, she would inevitably have to deploy black magic in the front line and cast spells.
Of course, if she was caught using black magic, she would immediately be branded as humanity’s enemy.
“I’ll be off now, Your Royal Highness. It will take about three months. Take good care of yourself while I’m gone. If anything happens, please let me know with the ring.”
“…Will you come back?”
“I will indeed. There might be a joint mission, but for now, to the Empire…”
“No, I mean, will you come back?”
Lars did not understand Acella’s desperate question.
“…No, go.”
“Yes.”
As she watched him leave, Acella thought.
How had it suddenly become so vast?
The fact that she was no longer the one who would lean on him made her heart ache more than ever.
“…Clairvoyance.”
For Acella, there was only one way to find solace.
Magic.
She fervently hoped that clairvoyance would show her a future where she and Lars were together.
If she could even catch a glimpse of such a scene, perhaps she could foster hope and begin to turn his heart starting now.
Acella began constructing the most intricate and powerful magic circle she ever had.
Crunch, crunch.
Even while enduring the unpleasant sensation of her soul breaking apart, she continued the casting.
―Whoosh!
Her vision transformed.
―”Emperor Vürtempelt!”
“Damn that demon-like woman!!”
“Acellla, if it weren’t for you, everything would have been perfect.”
“I hate you the most in this world, Acella.”
Realizing she was the ultimate mad villainess, Acella thought, ‘No, no, no, Lars!!’
Having recognized Lars’s return, she imagined why she was never loved, what feelings he’d had being close to her, and how horrific that time must have been.
‘…I see.’
It was only natural for him to love a hero, not her.
From the start, it was a fight with no chance of winning.
Far away, she grasped at unreachable branches already split apart.
‘…Huh?’
A golden flower field entered Acella’s view.
There was a silver-haired woman in an elegant dress dancing at Gothberg Manor.
…That was her.
Her partner, matching her steps and holding her hand, was none other than Lars, whom she had pictured multiple times.
‘…Do they look close?’
The two, who had been laughing joyfully for a long time, tripped over each other’s feet and fell into the grass, embracing one another.
She lovingly took in his scent while stroking his hair.
When he nibbled her ear affectionately, her body shrank back.
Their locked gazes held a strange atmosphere.
‘…What is this?’
Why was it?
Even with clairvoyance, she couldn’t become that happy Acella or view it from that perspective.
It was as if the world adamantly declared that such a future was impossible.
From a third-person perspective, she felt like a transparent ghost invisible to them.
She could only watch blankly, not even able to wipe away the flowing tears.
‘…Ah.’
How long had she been watching their lives?
Her vision grew hazy, and she was thrown out.
Her mana had run dry, unable to hold the casting any longer.
Alone in the backyard at midnight, Acella muttered weakly.
“There was… such a future.”
How foolish she must have been.
How helpless.
Not even realizing the opportunities that had passed her by, not knowing what was truly important.
She had crossed the fork in the road.
That future must have been one miraculous ‘good ending’ among countless destructions she could reach.
In this timeframe, she was destined like many others to dabble in black magic, go insane, and become a notorious villainess.
“…Aaaah!!”
KABOOM!!
Somehow finding the strength, the mana she released exploded, obliterating the backyard. The force was enough to shatter all the windows of the Moonlight Palace.
“I don’t believe in fate.”
Acelia rose from her seat, her golden eyes swirling with a violet energy.
“Even if I have to shatter a soul.”
If I can have you back in my hands…
I’ll use everything I’ve got.
*
The hero party set off on their expedition.
Under Lars’ leadership, they collected artifacts over a year.
They gained the privileges of the Saint, and thanks to the contributions made in the Duke’s Territory defense, the Marquisate was able to gain independence as a former country, with the guards also joining the expedition.
“Lars, this is the last one!”
Gishta, having chopped down a sea monster, roared in triumph with the Thunder Tribe.
“Feeling good! At this rate, I might even break a mountain!”
Lars bumped shoulders with Gishta. Many revered him as a Saint, but his attitude towards those around him remained unchanged.
Receiving the golden leaves from Gishta, Lars combined them with the leaves they had gathered.
It was the moment they completed the [Golden Crown], a world-class artifact.
“Whoa, this is the artifact you said we’d need to fight the Demon King’s army, right?”
“Exactly. This will bring us victory.”
Lars didn’t explain the usage clearly, but Lishe didn’t ask further as she trusted him wholeheartedly. More than that, she was simply happy to have shared adventures with him over the past year.
The hero party and the allied units returned to the Empire. News arrived that the Demon King’s army had begun their invasion in the west, signaling that the time for fierce battles was approaching.
At night, avoiding various nobles requesting meetings, Lishe stood on the balcony of her lodging, gazing at the scenery.
It was then that Lars found her.
“Were you alone? Charles.”
Receiving his friendly greeting, Charles couldn’t help but chuckle.
“You sure do recognize me. That’s funny.”
“I can’t not recognize you.”
“Next time, I might pretend to be Lishe.”
“I’m pretty sure I’d recognize you anyway.”
“Eep.”
Charles slyly wrapped her arm around Lars’ waist.
…This level of skinship should be fine, right?
We’re friends… or maybe something more intimate.
Something beyond that…
Slipping slightly, feeling a bit nervous, Lars instinctively supported her back.
“…Ehe.”
Feeling good, she let out a strange sound.
“But Lars, why did you gather the crown? It didn’t have much practicality when Neria used it.”
“That’s true. So starting from the next round, I was planning not to gather any if our paths didn’t overlap. It’s an artifact that raises the resonance spell hierarchy of the Saint.”
“Resonance?”
“There’s a spell known as Spirit Arts. It’s a spell that negotiates and manipulates divine souls like angels.”
Charles tilted her head, not grasping Lars’ intention.
“Charles, you’ve accumulated a fragment of a soul while in the state of being Lishe due to the unique effect of the Holy Sword.”
“In a state where the fragments of the soul keep piling up, I am an accumulated existence.”
“Uh… yes.”
“Considering just the sanctity, it’s immense. It’s almost like being an angel. I can handle it with spirit magic.”
“Is that… similar to dealing with a spirit using black magic?”
“Well, if you put it that way? Anyway, I want to show you something. Come follow me for a moment.”
Lars guided Charles to a certain location. It was none other than the Inner Palace. Entering the darkened building together in the middle of the night made her feel oddly fluttery.
Charles gasped upon seeing the surgical room in the Moonlight Palace, prepared behind countless security facilities, and the glass chamber inside.
“My goodness, this is….”
Inside was herself.
Specifically, it was a perfect puppet modeled after her.
A prosthetic body.
“Is it… breathing?”
“It’s been finished for a while, but I succeeded in activation yesterday. I would need to move the arms and legs directly to know for sure, but there shouldn’t be any problem. All the internals are functioning too.”
“This is….”
“It’s your body.”
Only then did Charles realize what Lars had been preparing all along.
Emotions surged within her. Without realizing it, she hugged him tightly. In her wild movement, they both toppled over onto the surgical table.
“Lars, I, I….”
How could she convey this feeling?
Her throat locked up, and she struggled to speak properly.
With her sincere heart, she managed to whisper just three words into his ear.
“…Thank you…”
He must be overjoyed.
Lars gently patted the top of Charles’s head.
That was when he realized her hair was turning clockwise.
‘Oops, that’s wrong.’
Charles’s body was supposed to go counterclockwise.
Well, it shouldn’t be a big deal.
*
The next day, sitting before Lars were Lishe in a surgical gown and the Holy Sword.
“Teacher.”
Lars nodded. This surgery was a soul separation operation. Anesthesia would hinder the process.
However, it was necessary for Lishe to maintain stable resonance waves without losing control over the body.
“Please take good care of my sister.”
“I’ll do my best too. Let’s give it our all together.”
The surgical table had three setups.
Lishe was on one side, while on the other lay the new body to which Charles’s soul would be transferred.
In between them, the Holy Sword sat quietly like a binding device connecting the two.
A syringe was inserted to check the patient’s pulse and blood flow, and an oxygen mask was placed over the mouth.
“Lishe, let’s start when you’re ready.”
The sound of a deep breath quietly echoed through the surgical room.
Support me by donating at least $10, and you'll have the right to request any novel from Novelpia (excluding 19+ content) using a newly developed tool.
