“*Hah. Seriously. Hah. Hahahaha.*”
Sergey’s laughter burst forth as he groaned in disbelief.
It was during the grading of test results after all the students had left.
Once again, he couldn’t hold back his laughter upon confirming Schlus’s remarkable score.
“*0.01 seconds…*”
0.01 seconds.
That was how long it took Schlus to cast and manifest a spell.
Actually, this was an imprecise figure.
The artifact’s measurement limit was 0.01 seconds, meaning the actual time was even shorter.
“*I couldn’t even surpass 0.03 seconds…*”
Even Sergey, who had rolled on the battlefield for decades, couldn’t cast a spell faster than 0.03 seconds.
0.03 seconds was already enough to handle opponents right in front of him.
But what about Schlus, with a casting speed of 0.01 seconds?
Taking out enemies pouring in from all directions might not be just a dream.
“*Ugh. This can’t be happening.*”
Chuckling, Sergey slapped his forehead.
It was his bad habit.
Whenever he saw someone with potential, he habitually wanted to mold them into a soldier.
His eye for talent was pretty good, as many great generals had emerged from it.
One of them was Roman von Byrne.
Currently a problem child in the Imperial Army, an innovator, and a war hero, no one could downplay his strengths.
“*I wonder how that guy is doing.*”
Speaking of which, the last time he saw Roman was during the military tribunal.
As that memory floated up, Sergey couldn’t help but smile wryly.
Roman was charged for dropping military standards by popularizing left-handed salutes.
It all started when a soldier, who had lost his right arm during the Freya-Trude War, saluted Roman with his left hand, and Roman responded with the same gesture.
From then on, the left-handed salute started being used to honor the injured and began spreading throughout the army.
However, the military authorities were not pleased.
Fortunately, Roman was acquitted, but he was summoned for trials several times due to his radical actions afterward.
“*There’s something familiar about him.*”
From his commoner origins to his free-thinking mindset and confident demeanor.
Looking at Schlus reminded him of the old Roman.
Yet, this time, Sergey had no intention of pulling him into the military.
After all, he was retired now.
And unlike Roman, who went through a turbulent period, Schlus seemed to have a clear goal of his own.
“*Looks like he’s adapting well to school.*”
Looking out the window, he noticed the students leaving.
The atmosphere, which had been rife with disdain and hatred toward Schlus during their first class, had calmed down significantly.
It was probably the influence of the Magic Day Incident.
There was no need for him to worry anymore.
Sergey felt relieved as he turned his head away.
*
“Hey! Schlus! Want to play some golf together—”
“Sorry, I’ve got plans.”
“*Ugh. What’s with you always having plans…*”
Watching Schlus’s indifferent back as he turned away, Aintz sighed.
When would that guy finally take him on?
Schlus, dubbed the prodigy of Wiegenstein, was the only one treating him like this.
Did he think there was no worth in exchanging words?
“*Just you wait. I’ll make you acknowledge me.*”
After all, until now, he hadn’t shown anything worthy.
He just needed to start shining from now on.
Maybe if he took the top spot in the midterm exams, he’d finally earn some recognition?
“*Huh? That won’t do…*”
Now that he thought about it, Schlus had declared he’d drop out if he lost his ranking.
That would be pointless.
As Aintz’s mind got more complicated, Schlus had already disappeared from view.
Meanwhile, Trie was—
“*What is it…?*”
Curiously tilting her head, she chased after Schlus.
His expression was peculiar.
To others, he may have seemed expressionless as always, but Trie, who had seen his face during their sparring matches, knew Schlus was a little different today.
What could it be? He looked somewhat downcast.
Was something troubling him?
“*Maybe he hasn’t fully recovered from that stab wound…?*”
Trie’s face went pale.
She had seen countless soldiers and knights suffering from aftereffects of injuries or losing their lives.
What if Schlus seemed fine on the outside but was actually suffering from horrible aftereffects underneath?
That would be terrible.
“*What if my magic teacher dies…?*”
Schlus had said he would teach her magic after the midterms.
It would be a disaster if he died or became disabled before that.
She knew a good physician who took care of aftereffects, and maybe she could introduce him to Schlus.
So she hurried to catch up with Schlus.
“*Huh?*”
Following the path Schlus had taken, Trie halted at the entrance of the single dorm room.
He was getting something from an attendant in front of the mansion.
Upon closer inspection, it was—
“*A white rose?*”
A white rose.
Was he planning to give it as a gift to someone?
As Schlus turned around towards the entrance, Trie instinctively hid.
She wanted to find out who the recipient of the flower was.
It felt a bit awkward to directly ask, and following someone around wasn’t her hobby, but she had to know this time.
“*He’s heading out of Imperial University?*”
Schlus tucked the rose in his pocket and left through the entrance of Imperial University.
Then he walked past the busy downtown and the new town, through the old town—
“*Where is he going?*”
He had arrived at the outskirts of the institution.
What on earth was he aiming for?
There was nothing out here.
If anything, there was—
“*Ah…*”
Just a public cemetery.
Watching Schlus’s figure enter the cemetery, Trie sighed quietly.
The person he was about to give the white rose to was a dead person.
Trie, with a slightly darkened expression, quietly followed Schlus.
“*Who could it be? Who is Schlus looking for?*”
Schlus’s steps were steady. It didn’t seem like it was his first time here.
The burial costs in this cemetery were pretty high, so it couldn’t be Schlus’s parents, who were commoners.
Schlus walked to the farthest corner and then stopped in front of a small gravestone.
It looked like an old gravestone, at least ten years old.
“*Julia von Iceburg…? Huh?*”
Reading the name engraved on the gravestone, Trie was soon flustered.
Schlus.
Always expressionless and never flustered, had tears streaming down his face.
*
“I’m sorry. I’ve searched all the flower shops, but this is the only white rose I could find…”
“…”
Accepting the white rose from Emilia.
It was half-bloomed, slightly wilted.
But that didn’t matter.
“It’s okay. I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll accompany you—”
“No. I’ll go alone.”
“…”
She cut him off decisively.
Going there might stir up emotional turmoil… She didn’t want to show that side of herself to Emilia.
Leaving the mansion, he headed straight for the cemetery.
He didn’t know the location, but recalling what he had written made it easy to find the path.
As soon as he arrived at the cemetery, he walked toward the far corner.
If her grave was here, it would probably be the smallest gravestone at the edge.
He secretly hoped it wouldn’t be there.
But as soon as he discovered the small gravestone, cracked and crumbling, he felt his breath catch.
“*Julia von Iceburg*”
It truly existed. He had thought it wouldn’t…
Julia was a character added only after the story was completely ruined, so he assumed it wouldn’t be reflected in this world.
“*So it’s there…*”
His heart ached tremendously.
Thinking of Julia led him to think of her.
That was unavoidable.
Julia was a character based on my deceased girlfriend.
.
.
.
Beautiful. Han Ah-reum.
The reason he first became interested in her was that beautiful smile.
It felt like we were drawn to each other as if it were destiny.
As someone who didn’t believe in destiny, I can only describe it like that.
I was the one who confessed first.
Without any of the typical back-and-forth, she accepted my confession without hesitation, her face beaming.
We dated for about three years, enjoying everything we wanted to do together.
Life without her… I never imagined that at that time.
The time that couples experience boredom hadn’t even arrived yet. Until then, we both believed we would be together forever.
Then, just when we were at our happiest, she fell ill with an incurable disease.
A disease that gradually atrophied her entire body, and even the doctors at the university hospital couldn’t determine what it was.
They mentioned something similar to muscular dystrophy, but it was unprecedented that such symptoms appeared in someone who only developed them in adulthood.
The first thing she lost was her legs.
Though she loved riding her bike, she became unable to move without a wheelchair.
She didn’t even want to use that wheelchair anymore.
She would say we only needed to be alone together, that she didn’t have to go outside.
But I knew.
She didn’t want others to see her legs, which had become painfully thin from muscle loss.
She gradually became weaker.
Eventually, it became difficult for her to lift her arms.
In front of her, I always smiled, but as soon as I was outside the hospital room, I would quietly cry, and I lost count of how many times that happened.
She was dying. Slowly. But surely.
Still, I insisted on talking about marriage.
Saying we could have a simple ceremony without inviting guests, just our families.
But she smiled and said no.
I should have listened to her then.
I should have rushed with her wheelchair to the venue.
The very next day.
She left my side.
That’s how I was broken.
I became unable to write.
My writing routine that used to flow without a hitch was shattered.
Still, I tried my best to keep writing.
Even though I fell into despair and lived like a shut-in for just three days, I quickly collected myself and squeezed out every effort to write. Because of her words saying she wanted to see the completion of this story.
But it didn’t work. Whenever I sat in front of the computer, it felt like my mind went blank, and I couldn’t think of anything.
So the extreme measure I took was… to bring her back to life.
Making her live on, even if just in my story.
Thus, Julia was born.
Julia was set as a reincarnator.
Julia was born with a disease similar to the one she suffered from, and died in her most beautiful, youthful years.
Then she would be reborn in exactly the same form somewhere on the continent.
And she would die again… and again… endlessly repeat that cycle.
While the one who didn’t return was her, Julia would live on forever.
Forever without losing her youth.
While Julia came to life, I managed to write, but that was all.
Julia’s story was progressing, but the protagonist’s and the party’s stories were making no progress.
Readers complained about the sudden appearance of a new character that consumed all the content. Naturally, the view counts plummeted.
With this, even if I wrote 100 more chapters, I wouldn’t be able to conclude the story. To write properly, I sealed Julia’s story away.
But then my writing plummeted again. At this point, I was really losing my mind.
The fact that I became the embodiment in this wretched world was…
“*Hah…*”
Regaining my composure, I realized tears were streaming down my cheeks.
I hastily wiped them with a handkerchief and knelt before the gravestone.
I placed the wilted white rose, which seemed on the verge of falling apart, in front of it.
Surely, Julia is living somewhere on this continent now.
Like all the characters I’ve seen so far, Julia would align perfectly with the image I’ve had in my head.
Every single detail would be so reminiscent of her that it would send chills down my spine.
But Julia isn’t Han Ah-reum.
No matter how similar they might look, even if they shared the same personality, Julia could never be her.
Realizing that was unbearably painful.
She couldn’t come back. The person so similar to her was alive in this world.
This is torture.
“*It’s as if…*”
Now I understand.
Why I was brought into this damned world.
I’m being punished right now.
“*I miss you so much…*”
For not being able to protect her.
For not being able to make her happy.
For not being able to share her last moments.
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