What Winter Left Behind (2)
4 years ago.
Back then, I was spending a terribly lonely season.
It had been several months since I was suddenly dragged into this world.
The fate of 'possession,' thrust upon me without any time to prepare, was nothing but confusing.
Perhaps it was what people commonly call a twist of fate, or perhaps it was the execution of necessity, but what was certain was that there was no way back.
In the end, I had to struggle in my own way to survive.
"What... role do they want me to play?"
A world on the verge of destruction.
If so.
The ending that needed to be changed was all too clear.
It might have been an interpretation based on my own desires, but I resolved to live by that uncertain calling.
That was the reason I stepped onto that uncertain thorny path.
The choice was the beginning of a fierce life.
The War of Succession.
It was the event closest to the time of my possession, and an event that I absolutely had to intervene in considering the future of the original story.
A power struggle between criminal organizations to seize control of the underworld.
However, it was too large to be described as a simple struggle, shaking even the political situation of the Empire.
The countless names that clashed for mere greed even influenced the original story.
Starting with the [Monarch], who had dominated the dark side of the Empire until now, the underworld tycoons challenging such a ruler's throne, as well as countless criminal organizations staining the underworld with violence.
A world full of trash needed cleaning.
Originally.
This war was not supposed to end for another five years.
The sweetness of ambition was akin to madness.
Violence and plunder turn weak humans into demons, pushing them towards a bottomless hell.
For the sake of a better life, people wear the noose of sin.
Extremely adult-like.
"......I have to stop it."
A world burning red with blood and fire.
The relentless slaughter.
Those who became corpses under the hail of arrows, and the barbarians who smiled vilely even as they stood on rotten flesh.
It was a tragedy or comedy that starkly captured the meaning of the bottom.
Even in this situation, those who cried the most sadly... were the people who had committed no sin.
My very first step had to point towards their salvation.
Of course.
The priority was to prevent the destruction.
Because it was the root of the tragedy in the original story.
The long war increasingly festered the dark side of the Empire, and later it became so chaotic that even the Imperial family could not handle it.
To make matters worse, even the dark mages joined hands with the underworld.
In this world, the War of Succession was.
An event that was the origin of all evils.
"Besides... I have to find 'it' before it awakens."
That.
The first trigger that drives this world to destruction.
Dealing with the future disaster in advance.
With that thought, I left the comfortable mansion and stepped into the dirtiest depths of the underworld.
Back then, I couldn't think of any other good options.
I had no one to rely on.
Suddenly.
Abandoned in a lonely world.
While bewildered by the life given to me once again, and hesitating to live, I suddenly regretted it, and eventually chose to move forward.
With the resolve that this was truly the last game.
Forgetting you.
"I'm off."
The mansion offered no reply.
The hardships of a possessor living as another person were not something I experienced.
There was no need to deceive the relationships this body had built.
After all, the family didn't care about me.
No.
To be precise, it was closer to treating me as if I didn't exist.
The few months spent in the mansion felt like a cold season.
Apart from minimal conversations for meals and washing up, no one showed any interest or affection towards this body.
Even if I disappeared for over a week, no one even attempted to find me.
The place felt like a dollhouse made entirely of lies.
"What kind of life did Judas... actually live?"
The hidden side of the traitor I hadn't known.
At the time, I had doubts, but they were questions I soon erased from my mind.
The storm approaching right before my eyes was overwhelming enough.
And so, I walked through the wind and rain.
"Haa, haa...!"
A war I jumped into without a plan.
From that day on, it was a continuous cycle of pain and struggle.
I was enveloped in a terrible stench of blood.
I was alone.
Wielding powers I wasn't yet familiar with, killing the trash that littered the streets, hiding to avoid pursuit at night, liberating the suffering people, and moving forward like that.
The blood of others that I smeared myself with for the first time was sticky and lukewarm.
There were days when I vomited my guts out.
But.
To survive, I couldn't hesitate even for a moment.
Back then, the output of lies wasn't as good as it is now, so when my power ran out, I would hide in places like sewers.
The background reeked of a terrible stench, but I was in no position to be picky.
"Ugh... cough!"
That was the logic that prevailed in the underworld.
The bottom was a place that eradicated the pure and the true, where only those who had abandoned their dignity and qualifications survived.
In the world, there is a name for those who subsist so pathetically.
None other than trash.
We were the waste piled up in the landfill.
Killing each other, stealing, chasing, trampling... repeating the cycle of submersion using all sorts of adult methods.
As if competing to see who could drag the other down.
I was no different.
Under the guise of rooting out evil, I draped myself in evil no different from theirs.
That's why I didn't like the memories of that time.
"......Should I just stop everything?"
A torment I occasionally harbored.
The adult world that I thought I had become accustomed to in my previous life constantly ensnared me, proving that there were no limits to its ugliness.
To the point where even the last remnants of my once pure heart were devoured without a trace.
I was simply repeating a cold war.
"The bleeding won't stop... should I sew it up like last time?"
Sometimes I felt lonely.
Leaning against the corner of a sewer, treating my tattered body myself, I would sometimes be plagued by an unfulfilled sense of loss.
But in that emptiness, I didn't shed any tears.
Perhaps it was because my emotions had dried up.
Life just kept getting colder.
Even so.
Time passes.
Single-handedly, I cleansed the criminal organizations rooted in the underworld, and erased the seeds that could cause harm in the future, one by one, from the story.
The situation subsided like a weak flame without even having time to be consumed by madness.
The war that had lasted for a full five years in the original story.
I was able to conclude the [War of Succession] in less than three months.
It was the reward for my fierce efforts.
"Haa, haa..."
Heavy breaths.
After dealing with all the forces parasitizing the underworld, I was finally able to bring down the last remaining [Kingdom].
That kingdom referred to the territory ruled by the Monarch.
The white-haired old man coughed up a mouthful of blood.
"Cough...!"
The person who troubled me the most during the war.
Not only did he command a force spanning the continent, but he also possessed overwhelming individual strength, and every time, he used cunning schemes to defeat his opponents.
He was a person worthy of being called the unofficial strongest.
Though he was ultimately defeated.
"It's over."
The aftermath of the fierce battle remained around us.
The scenery of the castle and streets was brutally destroyed.
The old man was kneeling, his appearance tattered.
His body was covered in blood, his once neat attire was now in rags, and his severed right arm was rolling on the floor.
His left chest, in particular, had been pierced by a sword.
I stood there with my sword plunged into the old man's heart.
A faint pulse was transmitted to my fingertips.
"Don't struggle."
"So... this is how it ends."
The old man muttered.
It was a reaction of resignation, sensing the end.
I stared at him calmly.
His body was a gruesome mess of blood, but I was in no better shape.
Simply breathing was a painful ordeal.
Even that was difficult due to my dwindling power output, making even light first aid a burden.
I simply bit my lip and swallowed the pain.
"The grueling War of Succession ends today."
"How does it feel? The feeling of the victor who stands alone at the end of all wars...?"
"......Empty."
I replied softly.
The blood that stained my hands.
The boundary between life and death that I had crossed was simple.
I destroyed the forces that had aided the cultists in the original story, and those that hadn't, I crippled just enough to prevent their revival.
The reason I wasn't killing the old man before me now was also the same.
He was one of the few figures in the underworld who hadn't joined hands with the dark mages.
Whether it was simply that he disliked their wicked power, or because of memories from his past, I had no way of knowing, but I thought he would be a valuable asset if he was kept alive.
I slowly pulled the sword out of the Lord's heart.
Schlick-.
As the sword was removed, the hole in his chest closed up.
I had reversed it to its original state.
However.
"This is not mercy."
Magic woven with lies remained inside his heart.
A spell implanted to prevent him from acting as he pleased.
It was magic that would explode the moment I chanted the activation phrase.
It was designed to activate even if my own life activity ceased, so the opponent couldn't preemptively strike.
The old man seemed to feel the spell constricting his heart.
A weary laugh escaped his lips.
"Heh heh... so you'll let me live. You truly are an interesting one."
The old man said, still kneeling.
His aged eyes were terrifyingly deep.
I replied.
"From now on, you are my puppet."
"A puppet, you say...?"
"If you do not follow my instructions, I will take that heart of yours right away."
"You're proposing a deal?"
"I mean that you will pay the price."
"I suppose I have no right to refuse... it is the law for the defeated to submit to their fate."
"A wise decision."
"More than that, it's a shame. I was so close to winning. I lost by a hair's breadth."
"You were indeed terribly strong."
It was true.
I too had faced death several times, and it was only after exhausting my power to its limit that I was able to pierce the old man's heart.
If even a slight misstep had occurred, defeat would have been mine.
I let out a painful breath.
The old man looked up at me and asked.
"Victor... in the name of this rightful war, is there anything else you desire?"
"Yes, there is."
I answered without hesitation.
After all, it was the top priority from the moment I plunged into the underworld.
I spoke of the seed of destruction.
"The force you have been hiding until now... the last member of your personal guard."
The Lord's personal guard consisted of five members.
However.
Only four had appeared in the war.
The remaining one should be in the underground prison.
A monster he wanted to keep by his side due to her overwhelming talent for slaughter, but had locked away from the world due to her uncontrollable power.
I mentioned the killing machine the Lord had been hiding.
"Disloyalty. I will take her."
"......Huh."
A laugh as if he was dumbfounded.
The old man muttered with a blank stare.
"That was information I kept completely secret... you seem to read my mind every time. As if you know the future."
"So, what's your answer?"
"Does it even matter?"
The Monarch nodded as if it was a given.
"Do as you please."
The old man readily gave the coordinates.
It was a prison in a remote location.
As soon as I confirmed the information, I turned my back.
My staggering steps left behind the ruined throne and the landscape of the underworld after the war.
Now, it was time for the boy to meet the seed of destruction.
Incidentally.
The season at that time was the beginning of winter.
The coldest winter of all.
***
Wandering for over three days.
After traversing desolate landscapes, what I found was an underground prison hidden in ruins.
I approached, dragging my still aching legs.
Normally, it wouldn't have taken this long to travel this distance, but perhaps because my body was exhausted, my movements had become sluggish.
I should probably devise a more convenient way to travel next time.
'Come to think of it... wasn't there something called spatial manipulation?'
Wouldn't it be convenient to have such a space-based ability user?
I should look into it later.
I pushed aside the unnecessary thoughts and headed towards the basement.
At the end of a long staircase, a prison came into view, with thick bars tightly packed together.
Devices to slow down mana were also running nearby.
I instinctively knew I had come to the right place.
Clink-.
A faint stirring sound came from beyond the bars.
Soon, a faint voice echoed.
"Who... is it?"
A shadow emerged.
Despite the deep darkness, a silver-haired girl with dazzling beauty was there.
Her arms and legs were bound by several layers of chains.
"Finally, we meet."
I examined her.
An undeniably beautiful face, but with traces of violence remaining in various places.
It seemed the Monarch had suppressed her for control.
Looking at her scratched skin and the dark bruises on her face, I suddenly remembered my previous life, which I had forgotten for a while.
Even as a child, I had to suffer from violent parents.
Perhaps it was just my imagination.
"I've come to take you."
"......?"
I cautiously reached my hand through the bars.
What returned was a look of vigilance.
Regardless, I smiled and spoke.
It was a phrase of embrace, spoken softly.
"Don't you need a name?"
A somewhat whimsical question.
That was the beginning for the two of us.
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