As I sifted through the archives of my newly acquired memories, the haze began to clear.
Fragments of broken worlds and lost histories intermingled in a chaotic tapestry of what once
was.
The reality of my situation settled in, revealing the tangled mess of destinies intertwined with my own.
I saw worlds-two distinct paths that converged into one.
One where Snow and I had built a life together, only to leave the world in disarray.
Another where I was a father to two children, with their mother’s face shrouded in mystery.
The sudden transfer of these memories into my consciousness made me wonder why and how such fragments appeared.
It became apparent that these memories were remnants from a world that faced its ultimate downfall.
The world where Liyana had devoured everything, and another where the Evil God Erebil had plunged the realm into eternal darkness.
The scope of the devastation was immense, and understanding it only deepened the enigma surrounding my current state.
Among the revelations, one skill stood out: [Forgotten Guidance.]
It wasn’t a part of the game I knew, nor was it mentioned in any of the system notifications I had encountered before.
This skill was likely the key to understanding the origin of these memories and the reasons behind their sudden appearance.
The realization hit me like a tidal wave: alternate worlds and timelines weren’t just theoretical musings-they were a reality.
The knowledge that these parallel existences were woven into the fabric of my own destiny was both exhilarating and terrifying.
The implications were staggering. If I could access these memories, then perhaps I could alter the fate that loomed over me, just as others had tried to do before.
The fragments I received weren’t merely random remnants; they were purposeful.
Someone or something-had gone to great lengths to ensure I would receive these pieces of a shattered past.
The memories I’d been given were not mine by birthright but by inheritance from worlds that had already met their end.
This act of passing on such intimate and painful experiences had a clear intention: to guide or force me into changing something.
Despite knowing these emotions weren’t originally mine, they had taken root within me.
The feelings of anger, sadness, disgust, and hatred that had been so vividly displayed in those memories resonated deeply within me.
It was almost as if I had inherited a part of those other selves’ emotional burdens, experiencing their suffering and frustration firsthand.
This empathetic connection to their struggles was overwhelming, and it became increasingly difficult to distinguish my own emotions from those that had been implanted in me.
The skill [Ego Corruption] now made sense. It wasn’t just a warning-it was a reflection of what I was undergoing.
The intense emotional overload from these foreign memories was corrupting my sense of self, blending my identity with those who had lived and suffered before me.
This ego corruption was not just a minor inconvenience; it was a significant alteration of my psychological state, making it harder to maintain my individuality and clarity of purpose.
Given that the memories I have access to are already fragmented, I knew I had to be judicious about using them. Over-reliance on these memories could lead me down a path of self- alteration I couldn’t predict.
The emotional and psychological influence from these foreign fragments was significant- far too significant.
It was crucial to avoid letting them reshape me into something unrecognizable, especially considering the disturbing vision of my other self-aligning with the evil god.
The very idea that I could fall into such a trap was unnerving.
It meant that even a slight deviation from my core self could potentially lead me down a dark path, one where I might embrace the very forces I needed to kill.
My focus had been overwhelmingly on Liyana and the immediate threats surrounding her, but this narrow perspective had allowed other dangers to fester unchecked.
While my attention had been consumed by one facet of the impending doom, the larger picture loomed ever larger.
The world’s end wasn’t confined to just my conflicts with Liyana and her allies; it extended to the larger threats like the evil god and the white queen.
Their presence and the catastrophic possibilities they represented were still very much alive.
My attempts to avert my fate with Liyana had not erased the need to address these other monumental threats.
The pressure was mounting. My preoccupation with the current crisis had led me to overlook the broader threats.
Act 2 hadn’t even begun, yet I felt a heavy weight pressing down on me.
The stress of navigating this intricate web of fate and conflict was beginning to take its toll.
I was growing increasingly paranoid about the future, unsure of what lay ahead and how I might cope with it.
The golden system notification hung in the air before me, a stark reminder of my current
mission:
[Mission: Reach the Next Semester].
Once this semester ends and the start of Act 2 begins I wondered what sort of complications
would arise then.
Complacency was no longer an option.
As I grappled with these thoughts, the door to my room creaked open.
My mind barely registered the sound, accustomed as I was to the early morning intrusion.
The only person permitted to enter without knocking at this hour was my personal maid, Yui, assigned by the academy.
Yui entered with her usual grace, her eyes half-closed in that characteristic manner of hers, as though she sensed my presence from beyond the door.
Her entrance was always calm and composed, a stark contrast to the chaos in my head.
“Good morning, young master Riley,” she greeted softly, her voice a soothing balm. “You’re
up quite early today.”
Her gaze fell on me with concern.
She noticed the signs of my troubled night-the sweat-soaked shirt clinging uncomfortably to my back, and the state of my bed, a testament to a restless sleep.
“Did something happen, young master?” she asked, her voice laced with genuine worry.
I hesitated for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts and maintain a semblance of
normalcy.
“It’s nothing,” I replied, forcing a reassuring smile. “Just a few nightmares……”
….
In the northeastern part of the academy, the three royal residencies stood as symbols of prestige and grandeur.
Among them was a royal hall that housed individuals of noble lineage or those whose status
equaled royalty.
Within this opulent setting resided the most formidable swordsman of the age, Grand Duke Luther Heavens of the Germonia Empire.
Luther Heavens, with his imposing yet dignified presence, sat in his richly adorned study, a room bathed in golden light from the intricate chandelier above.
He was cross-legged on a cushioned chair, deeply engrossed in a parchment that lay before
him.
The paper was pristine, its golden-white sheen reflecting the soft glow of the room. Notes and descriptions meticulously detailed the terms of a contract presented by Rose. The contract was ambitious, outlining several advantages for his duchy.
It was clear that Rose, despite her youth, had crafted a proposal that was both strategic and
advantageous.
Luther marveled at her ingenuity but found himself troubled by the implications. Luther’s eyes lingered on the thought where Rose had voiced out her desire: “Riley Hell. I
would like to have him.”
The contract’s mention of Riley Hell was straightforward but carried weight. Rose had expressed a clear interest in involving Riley, a request that was both intriguing and
concerning.
He shook his head with a sigh, a mix of frustration and resignation crossing his features. The request was in stark contrast to the otherwise advantageous terms of the deal. Luther, known for his keen sense of ambition and strategy, found himself at a crossroads. He was a man who could often overlook personal considerations for the greater good, but this
was different.
Liyana, his beloved daughter, was the crux of his dilemma. Luther’s protective nature towards Liyana meant that he could not pursue any course of action that might endanger her well-
being or happiness.
As much as he was tempted by the potential benefits outlined in the contract, the thought of making a move that could hurt Liyana was unacceptable to him.
He placed the parchment gently back on his desk.
This matter was one that weighed heavily on two critical aspects of Luther’s life: his vow to protect his daughter and the promise he had made to his late wife.
His wife had always been a guiding influence, and his mother’s oath had been a binding commitment he cherished deeply for the duchy and its people.
Balancing these two aspects was no easy task, and in this instance, where both options had potential risks, Luther found himself at an impasse.
He knew when to set his priorities straight, but the gravity of this situation was such that it
demanded a decision that he dreaded making.
‘Liyana might hate me for life….’
The only solution that emerged in the Duke’s mind was one he knew would undoubtedly result in his receiving a stern reprimand, but it was a course of action he felt compelled to
take.
With a sense of foreboding, Luther reached for a crystal orb nestled in his pocket. This was no ordinary item-it was a rare magic communication device reserved for the highest echelons
of society.
Crafted by the renowned Magic Tower, it was an artifact used by those of high status for confidential and significant communications.
The orb had a similar red hue to the one he used for direct contact with the Emperor, but its
tint was distinct, signifying its unique purpose.
Luther carefully placed the orb on his desk, the golden light of the room catching its surface.
He focused his mana, channeling it through his palms as he touched the orb.
The moment his mana made contact, the orb began to glow with a silvery-white light,
interspersed with red hues that pulsed rhythmically.
After a few seconds of anticipation, the orb’s glow coalesced into a large, circular holographic
screen hovering above it.
The screen flickered briefly before stabilizing, revealing the face of his daughter, Liyana. Her expression was a mix of surprise and concern, clearly caught off guard by the sudden communication.
“Papa?” Liyana’s voice came through with a note of confusion. Her eyes, usually so calm and
composed, were wide with uncertainty.
“I thought you were busy with the events at the academy,” Liyana said, her voice carrying a
mix of curiosity and concern.
Her red eyes scrutinized her father’s tense expression as he fumbled with his words.
“Why the early call? Did something happen?” Luther took a deep breath, trying to steady himself.
The gravity of what he was about to say weighed heavily on him. “Liyana,” he began, his
voice steady but betraying a hint of strain, “I need to discuss something important with you.”
Her curiosity piqued, Liyana tilted her head slightly, her gaze never leaving his. “Hm? What is
it?”
Luther swallowed hard, feeling the unease coil tighter in his chest. “It’s a matter regarding Riley.”
Liyana’s eyes widened in shock, and her face fell into an expression of deep concern. “Riley? Did something happen to him?”
Her voice was tinged with panic, and she leaned forward, her concern palpable.
Luther raised a hand, trying to calm her. “Ah- it’s nothing drastic. It’s just that…”
“Just that?” Liyana’s voice was a mix of confusion and impatience.
Luther took another deep breath, steeling himself.
“Liyana…. You love the duchy, right? I know you’ll make a splendid duchess once you take
over my role. That’s why I’m confident in your understanding.”
Liyana’s brows furrowed slightly. “Hm?”
Luther’s gaze was unwavering as he prepared himself for the difficult request. “For the
benefit of the duchy, would you be willing to have Riley take a second wife?”
||
“…”
The silence that followed was thick with tension.
Liyana’s eyes narrowed, her expression shifting from confusion to something darker.
“Papa……”
“Do you want to die?”
Her response was delivered with a chilling calmness that sent a shiver down Luther’s spine.
The room seemed to contract around him, and the sun’s light filtering through the office
windows only served to heighten the starkness of the situation. Luther felt a surge of fear unlike anything he had ever experienced.
He had faced countless battles and political intrigues, but the icy rage in his daughter’s eyes
was something altogether different.
It was as if the very air around him had become heavy with her displeasure, and the enormity
of his request was beginning to sink in.
“Riley is mine Papa…. nothing will change that”