***
The sun began its slow descent, casting long shadows across the land.
The memorial service had long ended.
The plaza, once overflowing with grief, was now still, with only a gentle breeze rustling through the air.
The meadow was slowly returning to its peaceful slumber.
But I remained there.
I had someone I needed to see.
"It's been a while, Master," I murmured, facing the tombstone before me.
My voice was laced with exhaustion, but I forced a cheerful facade.
I couldn't bear to worry Master.
"I haven't been able to visit much lately. Please forgive your neglectful disciple."
Until the invasion, I had made it a point to visit at least once a week.
But the overwhelming weight of recent events had kept me away for the past three months.
"I trust you are at peace where you are."
A wave of melancholy washed over me.
The memorial service must have brought back memories of you even more vividly.
I clenched my fists.
"Since your passing, Master... there have been some unfortunate incidents."
The students you cherished so dearly...
"We lost some of them in the invasion."
Shame washed over me.
It hadn't even been half a year since we laid you to rest.
And today, we buried five children in the same earth that covered your body.
I had aspired to be a worthy successor, carrying on your noble will.
Perhaps it was a foolish ambition.
"If you were here with me now, Master... you would have comforted me, telling me not to grieve. You were always so kind."
I knew it in my heart.
I had done everything in my power, and the outcome was not unfavorable.
Compared to the original story, where the invasion had resulted in over 300 casualties, we had managed to reduce the number to five.
It was something to be grateful for.
But I couldn't bring myself to feel any joy.
If only I had been better, if only I had lived a more dedicated life, if only I had reacted more calmly when Recus appeared...
Perhaps the outcome could have been even better.
A future where no one had to die, where no one had to grieve.
A future filled only with celebration.
'...Such thoughts are only natural, I suppose.'
A bitter smile touched my lips.
It was my nature.
I was a coward who couldn't bear to lose anything, and that was why I was so terrified of this situation.
-Click, fwoosh...
I lit a deathweed cigarette and took a long drag.
I had been trying to cut back recently, but I couldn't suppress the urge any longer.
I needed the drug to steady myself, to keep from falling apart.
"I won't... let this happen again."
You had reached out to me in my darkest hour, Master.
Now, it was my turn to extend my hand to the children you loved.
I may have been a flawed disciple, and I may always be one, but I would make sure that your legacy lived on.
The noble will of a selfless guardian.
I aspired to be like you.
I would become a sword, cutting down the darkness that threatened this world.
"I will protect the Academy."
This was my solemn vow to you.
With my final words spoken, I bowed deeply, offering a gesture of respect.
***
As I made my way back to the dormitory, the sky had darkened considerably.
I had spent quite a long time by Master's grave.
My companions had already returned to their own dormitories.
I had sent them on their way, concerned about them being out in the cold for too long, especially since spring had yet to arrive.
They had protested, wanting to stay by my side, but in the end, they had relented at my firm refusal.
"..."
Walking alone felt strangely unfamiliar.
Perhaps it was because I had been surrounded by so many people for the past month.
The silence itself felt foreign to me.
It wasn't necessarily unpleasant.
My mind was heavy with thoughts, and the quiet solitude provided a welcome opportunity for reflection.
Thud, thud, thud...
I walked on, enveloped in the profound silence.
I had left the main building behind and was about to hail a night carriage to the dormitory when I spotted a familiar figure in the distance.
"Oh..."
I couldn't help but stop in my tracks.
It was a face I knew all too well.
Shining golden hair.
Golden eyes that sparkled beneath delicately sculpted brows.
Although he seemed a little downcast, his features still held the undeniable charm of a pretty boy.
"...Allen?"
Allen Reinhardt.
The protagonist of the original novel, "Heroes Who Erase Sorrow."
The same Allen who had driven me to the brink of despair just a few months ago.
And there he was, sprawled out on the ground, wiping away the tear stains that streaked his cheeks.
"L-Lishit... Young Master?"
His lifeless eyes widened slightly as our gazes met.
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