My body feels heavy. I brace myself with Frey clutched tightly in both hands. It’s all meaningless. The broken Frey can’t support my weight anymore.
I collapsed. The scorching earth, heated from a prolonged battle, held onto my cold body. Frey’s hilt is still firmly gripped in my right hand. On the opposite side, my left hand touches the broken blade.
The broken Frey has lost its power as a great sword.
The sense of connection necessary to wield it hasn’t emerged. The cold blade is riddled with countless cracks. My fingers move feebly, brushing against its surface. No droplets of blood emerge. Instead, fragments of the shattered blade flake off.
The divine power once flowing from the ring on my ring finger has ceased. The warmth has vanished. It didn’t heal my wounds.
I had no wounds to heal. Other than some minor scrapes, my body bore no major injuries. Jong-eon’s sword seemed to have cut something apart other than flesh.
My right hand moves to grasp Frey. I drag my left arm to lift my body. This too is meaningless. My completely limp hand can’t hold my weight anymore.
Once again, I fell. My face buried in the ground. Yet, my right hand clings tightly to Frey’s hilt. I couldn’t let go.
If I lost this even, all that I could do now would vanish.
Desperate, I struggled to find air. I had forgotten to breathe. My lungs expanded suddenly and ejected the air I’d just taken in. It was mixed with countless droplets of blood and chunks of my insides.
The continuing flow of blood makes breathing torturous. Broken bones jab at my body, while Jong-eon’s magical power, now like a sharp needle, pricks every nerve.
How am I even alive? My body was a mess. Though there were no visible wounds, inside, I was already like a corpse.
But my heart still beats. My mind still thinks, and my hand still holds the great sword.
That’s why I lifted myself up. I shoved my forehead into the ground and twisted my body. With feeble strength in my forearm, elbow, knee, and feet, I forced myself to rise.
My shaky sense of balance caused me to teeter and fall several times, but somehow, I managed to stand. I held onto Frey’s hilt tightly with both hands.
It felt heavy. With most of the blade missing, Frey should have felt light, yet it felt unbearably heavy. Still, I wouldn’t let go.
_Splatter-_ I couldn’t tell where the blood had fallen from; it had touched my forearm. Hot blood against my cold skin. I sighed in relief at the warmth of it.
I’m still alive.
I can still swing the sword. Only the hilt remains, and though the sense of connection is gone and the surroundings are indistinct. Still, the fact that I can wield a great sword felt like a great comfort.
_Crack-_ The sound of chains echoed in my mind.
“Why are you getting up?”
A voice filled with inevitability reached my ears, no longer drowned out by the ringing in them.
Not far away. A distance just out of reach when swung.
I walked toward the direction the voice came from.
My body, completely devoid of balance, swayed and almost fell, but I fought to stay upright. If I fell again now, I was sure I wouldn’t be able to stand up.
_Tap- The sound was not from my own feet but footsteps echoing from a distance. Jong-eon’s footsteps. She was walking toward me.
“What do you want by getting up?”
It was a predetermined question.
Jong-eon must have known what answer would come.
Yet I had to answer.
Not to Jong-eon, but to myself.
To reject the despair dominating my mind.
I spat out the blood rising in my throat. I drew in a breath as if it were the last, my lungs aching painfully, but I kept breathing. I didn’t stop the self-flagellation as I caught breaths.
Then, I peeled my lips away, which had become sticky with clotting blood.
“I… just want to save… Rubia…”
“Are you willing to sacrifice your life for that?”
I couldn’t respond to the second question. I no longer had the strength for that. So I chose to reply with my actions.
“Yeah. In the end, it’s come to this for me.”
Jong-eon’s sigh echoed right in front of me. Reflexively, I lifted Frey.
But—
_Clatter_- My hand slipped, and I dropped Frey.
My empty hand fell weakly. It shook slightly, devoid of anything to hold on to.
The trembling turned into a quiver. A fear. It became despair, drilling deep into my mind.
To expel that sticky despair, I bit my lip hard. Then, _crack_—the sound of chains echoed again.
“Still, it’s a relief. The me that lived another life also chooses Rubia in the end.”
Outside of me, right before me, _thunk_- a heavy object pierced the ground.
I knew that sound.
The sound of a great sword sinking into the earth.
The sound of Jong-eon embedding the great sword into the ground.
When the sound faded, a wind picked up. A dark, clammy breeze violently shook my body. My hair danced. The blood seeping from me mixed with the wind, leaving a bitter aftertaste before dissipating.
“Now, it’s all over.”
_Tap_- A cold blade touched my left chest, near my heart. Even without seeing it, even without the sense of connection, I knew. This was the great sword. Jong-eon’s Great Sword. The foreign great sword used to subjugate Tylant.
“Just one step forward. Just one step forward and it all ends. So I’ll ask one last time.”
I could feel a tremor coming from the tip of the sword. Whether it was from my body or from Jong-eon’s hand, I couldn’t tell.
“Is this choice, that sacrificing your life to save Rubia, to save the world, truly your heartfelt wish?”
That tremor resembled the rhythm of my heartbeat.
“I wasn’t…”
Regret.
Regret.
Those two words brought my fading consciousness and sinking mind back to the surface.
“Don’t scowl. It’s not that I didn’t want to save Rubia. Well, you see, unlike you, I met Rubia too late. Still, I came to love her just like you. We couldn’t help it. Even if she’s a character in a game, Rubia has accomplished things we couldn’t… I had to love her. And that didn’t change once it became reality.”
Rubia.
Our first meeting wasn’t that great, but the path I walked with her was tough, and I came to love Rubia, and this world.
It couldn’t be helped.
Rubia was my salvation. This world was Rubia’s world.
Even if she were a character in a game, even if it were a game world. I loved everything that allowed me to achieve what I couldn’t.
Even after it became reality.
I loved it.
“That’s why I was happy living with Rubia. Eating the same food, sleeping in the same bed, waking up at the same time—every moment spent with Rubia was precious. It was a miracle that I couldn’t have experienced otherwise.”
So I was happy living in a world with Rubia.
In the same world, eating the same food, sleeping in the same bed, waking at the same time.
Chit-chatting with Hephaestus.
Drinking coffee with Yuria.
Protecting Rubia from Charlotte.
Getting scolded by Ser.
Sharing jelly with Sirin.
Receiving compliments from Hermila.
Arguing with Cartia.
Every moment spent with everyone was precious.
Those were days that could be considered miracles for me.
“I wanted to protect that miracle, Rubia, her smile, her happiness, at the cost of my life, by any means necessary. Even if it turns the whole world against me, I wanted to protect Rubia. Just like you.”
I wanted to protect that miracle, Rubia, her smile, everyone’s happiness.
At the cost of my life.
By any means necessary.
Even if the whole world turns against me.
Even if the world forgets me.
I wanted to protect everything I loved.
“Thus, through all sorts of trials, after surpassing everything, when I reached the end, I chose her salvation. And—”
The cold touch sliced through my skin.
It broke my bones, stopping right before my heart.
“I regretted it.”
_Crack-_ The sound of chains.
Then, the gentle thumping of weak beats came from behind the chains. The feeble beats of someone who wanted to be a hero.
“What I truly desired wasn’t that.”
What I wanted.
I wanted to be a hero.
Like a brilliant firework shot into the dark night sky.
Like a dazzling spark illuminating the night sky.
Even if I turn to ashes.
Even if a bitter aftertaste remains.
Even if I bloom only to wither quickly.
In that moment of blooming, I wanted to shine brighter and more brilliantly than anything.
So.
I wanted to fulfill the words my mom left behind.
I wanted to carry on my dad’s wishes.
I wanted to end winter.
I wanted to help the flight (心/ Journeys).
I wanted to cover up the anger.
I wanted to deliver perfect victory.
I wanted to break the chains entwined with guilt.
I wanted to keep the promises.
I wanted to bestow spring.
I wanted to fulfill wishes.
I wanted to bloom beautiful flowers.
I wanted to complete miracles.
To save the person I love.
I had received too much.
I—
Their hero—
“That wasn’t what I truly wanted; it was something I had to do.”
…Something I had to do.
_Crack-_ The sound of chains echoed.
Not Jong-eon’s chains, but mine.
Chains intertwined with me.
Chains that forced me.
Chains born from the word hero.
“I didn’t want to achieve some grandiose thing like a hero.”
Hero. Noah. Shin-Noah.
The name left by my parents. Their sacrifice.
The shattered life. The painful memories.
Chains binding my heart.
Chains that had kept me standing until now.
Chains that made it impossible for me to give up.
Chains that forcibly kept me alive.
My past.
Pain. Regret. Grief. Fear. Disappointment. Frustration. Doubts. Worries. Trials. Misery. Disenchantment. Oppression. Anxiety. Confusion. Anger. Despair.
The chains that suppressed everything.
“Ha… I finally came to my senses.”
The meager regrets hidden behind those chains.
The shaggy dreams.
The ashes of once vibrant desires.
I felt them.
I reached out towards them.
I grasped them. My skin split open. Muscles tore, bones shattered. Still, I didn’t let go. I clenched my teeth and held on tighter.
“Yeah. I, ‘I’, we want to say our deepest desires.”
I am. ‘I’ am. We are.
More than becoming a hero.
More than saving the world.
More than those grand and noble things.
Just—
“I want to live.”
I wanted to live.
I didn’t want to be a hero.
I didn’t want to be forgotten.
I didn’t want to disappear.
My dad and mom.
Rubia.
Those who left this world.
Those who remained in this world.
With them.
I wanted to live.
“I want to be… happy.”
I want to be happy.
I want to laugh. I want to chatter. I want to eat food. I want to eat sweet treats. I want to joke around. I want to chat about meaningless things. I want to share secrets we don’t know about each other yet. Sometimes we quarrel, sometimes we fight.
In an ordinary way.
In a natural way.
I want to envision tomorrow.
I want to greet tomorrow.
Can I, a person who has received so much?
Can I, a person who couldn’t even save my dad and mom?
Can I, who was dying day by day like garbage?
Is it okay for me to—
“Yes.”
What we held in our hands slipped away.
Jong-eon’s Great Sword slipped from my grasp.
The clotted blood pouring from my hands became infused with divine power.
My shattered bones mended. Tear-stained muscles regenerated. My split skin healed.
It wasn’t Rubia’s divine power but Jong-eon’s.
“Then do it.”
On the hand touched by the divine power, only the meager desire remained.
What I truly wished for remained.
The gifts my friends left behind remained for me.
“You can do it. You’ve been unhappy until now. So now, you have the right to be happy.”
The heavy and frightful desires.
I grasped them without any hesitation.
“No, you must be happy.”
Then, voices emerged.
[You saved me, so smile. Until the end.]
One-eyed.
[So, Noah. I hope you can write a new story. A happy ending where everyone can be happy.]
Sword of Victory.
[Show us your path, Noah.]
Regulation.
[In your last moments, what choice will you make?]
Black feather.
[At the end of everything, just make a choice without regret.]
Firework.
[Please, Noah. End winter, and become my spring.]
Winter.
[At the end, I hope you smile brightly.]
Oath.
[Don’t be foolish, do what you truly want.]
Prayer.
[Just as everything changes, I hope your choice will change as well. Ideally… Yes. Toward a direction where ‘everyone’ can smile.]
Flower.
[If it’s you, you can do it. Surely, you can. Because you are my friend.]
Miracle.
I heard their voices.
I remembered. I gripped them.
And then.
I opened my eyes.
I saw the wall.
Above that wall.
[The subject is a character in a game.][The subject is a character in a game.][The subject is a character in a game.][The subject is a character in a game.][The subject is a character in a game.][The subject is a character in a game.][The subject is a character in a game.][The subject is a character in a game.][The subject is a character in a game.]
I saw the despair I had created to protect myself, fallen into a solitary world.
The despair that had made me fall until now.
The despair that had made me rise until now.
Above that despair lay countless chains.
Those chains were not the chains of regulation but my own.
Chains I formed to suppress myself.
Chains imposed upon me to force me to become a hero, to save the world.
Chains made to shake off the fear of sacrifice.
Chains created to renounce this world.
The light of despair engulfed in those chains was dim.
The wall hidden within that despair was enormous.
It was lofty enough that I could never surpass it.
It was strong enough that I could never break it.
I, who had faced that wall.
I had despaired. I turned away. I fell into despair. I wriggled in pain, trembling in fear.
“Don’t be afraid.”
But not now.
Though the wall is still enormous.
Though I didn’t think I would be able to surpass it.
“I can break it.”
I thought I could break it.
“The great sword.”
The great sword.
“It’s a weapon that can break everything head-on.”
A weapon that can break anything head-on.
“That’s why.”
That’s why.
“I, ‘I’, we.”
“I loved the great sword.”
“Aha!”
From beyond the wall, I heard Jong-eon’s laughter.
That laughter was bright and cheerful.
Light and crystal clear.
“Exactly. So, grab hold of your great sword, your essence, the ‘you’ that you have been avoiding all this time. Grasp it. Pull it out. Swing it. And—”
A warm hand rested on my chest.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. The fierce beating resonated.
The pounding, threatening to burst, struck my palm.
Feeling that vibration, that warmth, that emotion.
I closed my eyes. I recalled the path I had taken.
I reflected on the life I had lived.
The darkness that was lonely and cold.
A past drowned in despair.
The days that were dying without meaning.
“Move forward.”
I ignored them. I trampled them and passed by.
I moved forward.
Thus.
[But Dad is a superhuman, so he’s different from regular people. He never forgets those precious feelings he had when he first saw you. He remembers the weather and time when your mom first smiled at him. He even remembers the sky and the shape of clouds on the day you were born. He won’t forget until the day he closes his eyes.]
In the darkness, I recalled the light that remained.
[Mom is the same way. Every day is new and joyful, and there is no way to hate what you can’t help but love. Your dad, who tiptoed to the bathroom for fear I might wake up, and our Noah, who searches for the computer first when he wakes up, can’t possibly—no, can’t ever hate it.]
In the days that were dying, life had to exist.
[No matter what happens, even if Noah turns away from mom and dad.]
I wanted to live.
[Mom and Dad love Noah.]
They made me want to live.
[For life.]
I recalled hope.
“Really, it’s the last moment. Noah. What do you want to do?”
Not ‘I’.
Not ‘we’.
Me.
What I want to do.
I am.
“I want to live. I want to be happy. Together with everyone.”
I quietly finished my words.
I opened my eyes.
And then, I saw it.
The crumbled wall.
An insignificant wall.
A wall that had shattered horrifically.
And beyond that,
A crimson sky.
A red earth.
A black sun.
The scene of a bloody slaughter beneath it.
And she, standing with her back to it all.
Clearly.
I saw her with my own two eyes.
“Together with everyone… Haha. Yes.”
Jong-eon smiled brightly.
Laughing, she dropped the great sword.
I grabbed it with both hands. I bent forward.
I stomped my feet.
“A little bit, I envy you.”
A wind blew.
A lonely and desolate wind. A wind mixed with thick and awful smells of blood. Jong-eon, the path I could not take, the ‘me’ doomed not to be saved.
As I watched, I understood.
I found the answer. I realized.
Why I survived.
Why Mom and Dad saved me.
That’s why I didn’t speak the words that popped into my head.
I naturally swallowed them down and grasped my hands.
With the hilt, I pulled out the great sword.
At the same time.
“Hypocrisy.”
‘My’ great sword swung.
As I looked at it, I spoke.
Wishing to reach Dad, who leapt into the abyss to save people without any cost.
Wishing to reach Mom, who genuinely found happiness while helping others without expecting anything in return.
I, on behalf of ‘you’, who walked the path of hypocrisy.
To signify that I would walk my dad’s and mom’s paths.
I spoke.
“Charity.”
