Chapter 224: Wooden Pocket Watch (3)
Epherene opened her eyes and rolled her pupils, scanning her surroundings. The blizzard still howled outside, and she was still in Rekordak, lying on the sofa in Knight Yulie’s office.
“… Ah,” Epherene muttered.
Hoping the despair had only been a dream, believing—if only for a moment—that it wasn’t real, Epherene slowly pushed herself upright from the sofa.
“… You are awake,” Delic said with a faint chuckle, seated at the nearby table.
But Epherene lacked even the strength to respond.
“Epherene, what made you cry out like that?”
Epherene clenched her teeth, her lower lip trembling as if she were holding back tears.
“With that chubby face of yours, pretending to be worn out isn’t all that convincing,” Delic said.
“… Who says I’m chubby.”
“I heard you ate all the steamed potatoes by yourself.”
Epherene lay back on the sofa, staring at the ceiling as she thought of what would come next.
The Altar’s sudden attack is coming soon. We’ll be scattered, everyone will die, and I’ll do nothing but run—only to regress again. And it’ll repeat, over and over. As far as I can tell, there’s no hope. There is probably less than half a day left before it begins, Epherene thought.
“Oh, right. When you regress, do you return to early March?” Delic asked.
“… It has to be February, not March, to stop everything.”
February… back to when Deculein was giving the admissions briefing…
Crunch—
Just then, Delic took a bite of something.
Munch, munch— Munch, munch—
The sound kept tugging at her focus. Still staring blankly at the ceiling, Epherene’s head slowly turned toward Delic
“… What is that?” Epherene asked.
“A sandwich,” Delic replied.
“… Why does it smell like meat?”
“Because there’s meat in it.”
Epherene slowly pushed herself up and settled into the chair beside Delic.
“Epherene, I heard Professor Deculein left you a letter,” Delic said.
“… It’s nothing important,” Epherene replied.
“But you showed it to Yulie.”
Epherene handed the letter to Delic, and in return, as a barter, she received a piece of his sandwich.
“… Epherene, I leave this letter to you,” Delic muttered, reading the letter as Epherene took a large bite of her sandwich.
As Epherene ate her sandwich, she tried to think of a solution, but none came to mind; her determination was fading, and the last embers of her resolve were barely holding on.
“You will undoubtedly understand the meaning of this letter.”
Delic finished reading Deculein’s letter, which contained only two brief lines.
“Ugh,” Epherene muttered with a sigh.
“… And I, too, will keep my promise,” Delic added with an unfamiliar seriousness.
“What promise?” Epherene asked, pouting slightly as she gave Delic a direct look.
“… Hmm?” Delic muttered, raising a brow.
“I said, what promise are you keeping?” Epherene asked once again.
“What are you talking about?” Delic asked, furrowing his brows.
“You just said you’d keep a promise,” Epherene said, mirroring his expression.
“… I was merely reading it.”
“Read what?”
“The letter, of course.”
Epherene’s brows furrowed in confusion as she glanced between Delic and the letter. Delic did the same, glancing back and forth between her and the words on the page. Neither understood what the other meant, and silence settled between them. Outside, the blizzard raged on, while inside, the fireplace crackled quietly, filling the room with warmth.
Pzzzt—
A sudden shock rippled through Epherene’s mind, like a spark igniting within her, and in an instant, realization struck as she straightened, her entire body tensing.
“Give me that for a second!” Epherene said, snatching the letter from Delic’s hands with a pull of Telekinesis.
“Why? What is it?” Delic asked.
“Shh!”
“… There are only three lines, but is there some hidden meaning behind them?”
Delic’s comment about the letter having three lines made Epherene’s heart pound, as Deculein’s letter had originally contained only two.
“Epherene?”
Epherene’s hands trembled as she clutched the letter, her eyes reading the lines of text, and a deep emotion welled up within her, and soon, her vision blurred with the sting of unshed tears.
Epherene,
I leave this letter to you.
A letter she had read thousands of times—still so brief. However, as she stared at the words, a single tear slipped down, soaking into the paper, causing the ink to smudge as it spread.
You will undoubtedly understand the meaning of this letter.
No matter how many times she had wrestled with it, no matter how often she had turned the words over in her mind, their meaning had always remained a mystery. Those same sentences that once left her frustrated—but now, beneath them, in elegant handwriting, was a single new line, one that had never existed before her regression.
… And I, too, will keep my promise.
At that moment, a distant sound of Deculein’s voice echoed in Epherene’s ears.
“Do not worry.“
The last words Deculein had said while saving her before her regression.
“I will not place this burden upon you. You are still too young to bear such a burden.“
A faint smile formed on Epherene’s lips as she reminisced about the past, but strangely, a sting of ache bloomed at the tip of her nose.
“But I promise you this.”
The heart that had once trembled in despair, the voice that had cried out in misery—now, a quiet hope began to take its place.
“Epherene, could you explain what’s going on…”
Delic called out to her, but Epherene neither saw nor registered anything around her. At that moment, only one thing filled her world—a voice from a past memory.
“… It will only be for a moment, Epherene, and in that time, you may feel alone.”
… Those simple words—it will only be for a moment—finally reached her, melting the weight in her heart. The burdens and responsibilities that had pressed down on her began to unravel, thread by thread.
“No matter how late I may be, I will follow your time.“
His last words echoed in the air, a faint whisper carried by the wind to her ears.
“I will overcome regression.“
Overcoming regression.
“… Ah.”
Finally, Epherene understood the meaning behind those impossible words and the true purpose of the letter, just as Deculein had said; she had undoubtedly come to realize it.
“… I see now.”
Epherene turned to the window, her eyes following a lone bird gliding through the storm, its wings steady against the darkened sky. As she watched its elegant yet resolute flight, a quiet certainty settled within her. Deculein would return—she knew it as surely as the wind carried that bird forward.
***
Beneath Rekordak, Epherene and her party walked through the underground passage, making their way toward safety before the Altar initiated its sudden attack.
“When I regress, not everything changes,” Epherene said. “I believe my regression and the world’s regression are not the same.”
“Hmm?”
Everyone reacted differently. Sylvia nodded as if she understood to some extent, while Allen, Delic, Yulie, and Reylie—the newest member of their party—remained uncertain.
“So, basically, the criteria for the world’s regression and my regression are different. Once April 9th arrives, I will regress together with the world.”
The moment of regression always fell on April 9th, but the exact point in time was never the same.
“But the world’s regression could take it back to January or February… or even to the very beginning, before the continent itself ever existed.”
“… However?”
“However, my regression is tied to a single point—Rekordak in March.”
In other words, the world’s regression was on a much grander scale. In simpler terms, Epherene’s regression occurred within the world’s regression. Though both happened simultaneously, she always arrived later at the point of return.
“Then that means Deculein can’t come back,” Sylvia said, stopping in her tracks and narrowing her eyes as she glared at Epherene. “Because the point to which you regress is a timeline where he’s already dead.”
Delic swallowed hard as a chill settled over the underground passage.
“No, it’s fine,” Epherene replied with a faint smile, shaking her head.
“What do you mean it’s fine, foolish Epherene.”
“Sylvia, when you think of Professor Deculein, what kind of person comes to your mind?”
Sylvia’s brow twitched and furrowed.
Right, she never did like riddles, Epherene thought.
“Professor Deculein is always resilient—unyielding, like a pine tree, never bending, never breaking, and never losing to anyone,” Epherene added quietly.
Gulp—
At that moment, Delic swallowed hard, his eyes widening as they locked onto the inner pocket of Epherene’s robe, as if realizing something.
“Epherene, does that mean…”
“Yes, this letter,” Epherene said, showing Deculein’s letter.
Epherene,
I leave this letter to you.
You will undoubtedly understand the meaning of this letter.
… And I, too, will keep my promise.
“I’ve already experienced regression twice. But…”
The exquisite, graceful handwriting was unmistakably his, and in that final line, he had written that he, too, would keep his promise.
“This last line… it wasn’t there in the previous regressions,” Epherene said.
“Then…”
“It means Professor… he is overcoming the world’s regression.”
Everyone remained silent.
The very concept of regression alone was already a grand magical phenomenon, but the thought of overcoming even that—it was unimaginable.
“… That’s why Professor Deculein will return, without a doubt,” Epherene said, in the deep shadows of the underground passage, where the lantern in their hands illuminated a dim glow in the darkness. “As long as we keep this regression going.”
***
Though they still remained deep underground in the Northern Region, their shelter had taken the form of a warm cabin, thanks to Sylvia’s talent. Yulie stood watch, and with the sturdy chair Sylvia had crafted for her, making the long night more endurable.
“… Do you believe it?” asked Reylie, Yulie’s deputy, standing watch alongside her.
“We have no choice but to believe it, no matter how impossible it may sound,” Yulie replied, turning to Reylie with a nod.
“No, not the regression part,” Reylie said. “I mean what Epherene claimed—that Deculein loves you, Knight Yulie, and that he is terminally ill… It sounds impossible.”
“What’s the point of showing hatred toward someone who is already gone?” Yulie said, pausing for a moment to inhale before looking into the darkness of the underground passage.
Reylie remained silent.
What meaning did Professor leave behind in this bracelet? Why did he return it to me? There are too many questions, but at least in this cycle, the answers will remain out of my reach, Yulie thought.
“Besides, my purpose is not to save the Professor but to save Her Majesty.”
“Well, here they come again,” Reylie said, nodding as she stood up from her seat.
“Go wake them up.”
In the distance, the subtle signs of the Altar’s tracking appeared. How they had managed to track them down remained a mystery, but their persistence was suffocating—like leeches that refused to loosen their grip. Impressive, in its own way.
“Okay.”
Clang, cling, clang—!
The moment Reylie stepped into the sleeping area, she banged on a pot lid.
“Ugh…”
“… What is it?”
The four who had been asleep blinked awake drowsily.
“Everyone, it is time to run away!”
“Oh, yes!” Epherene replied, the first to wake, quickly sitting up and fastening her armor under her robe, even though she was still groggy.
Epherene bore both duty and determination—the absolute duty to stay alive and the unwavering determination to survive, to see Deculein once more…
***
… And so, April 9th arrived once more—this time, for the third time.
Then, the fourth April 9th arrived.
Then, the fifth April 9th arrived.
Then, the sixth April 9th arrived.
Then, the seventh April 9th arrived.
Before she realized it, Epherene had stepped into her eighth March once more.
“… It’s been almost a year,” Epherene muttered.
Having become familiar with regression, Epherene no longer felt much about it. After returning to the past once more, she took a brief moment to take in the Northern Region’s landscape before gathering her party, laying out their plan, and quickly departing Rekordak.
Epherene already knew the safest destination—the Principality of Yuren. By using Allen’s Stride, they could reach it without leaving any travel records. From everything she had gathered, Yuren was one of the few nations untouched by the Altar.
“This place should do.”
In Yuren, Epherene and her party arrived at an abandoned clearing, empty and untouched for years. Though it wasn’t far from the city, there was no need to rent a hotel or find lodging—after all, the Iliade of the Primary Colors was with them.
“… Quite the shock, really. To think you’re already the eighth Epherene,” Delic said, twirling his mustache.
“Eighth Epherene? What’s that supposed to mean?” Epherene replied, narrowing her eyes. “That makes it sound like I’m not even myself.”
“… Is it not difficult for you?” Yulie asked, worrying.
“No, I’m fine,” Epherene replied, shaking her head. “More than that… I still can’t believe Leoc was completely consumed by the Altar. That was a real shock.”
In the Leoc Kingdom, the seventh Epherene and her party had taken refuge, unaware that the entire kingdom had already fallen into the hands of the Altar.
Beneath its very streets, a new sanctuary for the Altar was under construction. Without realizing it, they had walked straight into the enemy’s heart. Just like in the second cycle, they were forced to scatter in all directions, and in the end, only Epherene had managed to barely survive—just enough to regress once more.
“Certainly, it is a difficult truth to believe.”
“But, it’s a relief that we learned this much. When the Professor returns…” Epherene muttered, trailing off, then reached for the letter tucked inside her robe.
Epherene,
I leave this letter to you. Recently, I have experienced brief flashes of déjà vu—abstract thoughts and glimpses of the unknown, shadows beyond perception. However, attempting to articulate these feelings in mere words would be far from efficient.
However, you will undoubtedly understand the meaning of this letter.
So remember my words, and I, too, will keep my promise. Wait until then.
No matter how late I may be, I will follow your time.
Epherene held the letter tightly against her chest, the words within growing longer with each regression. Every single line was precious to her now.
It really feels as if I’m speaking with the Professor across time itself, Epherene thought.
“Knock it off,” Sylvia said, smacking her on the back.
“Argh!”
A stinging pain flared across her back, causing Epherene to flinch as she spun around, Sylvia’s glare burning into her, intense and focused like a searing beam.
“You’re not the only special one.”
“You little child, that stings!” Epherene yelled.
“… What. A little child. Me.”
“That’s right~ You’re younger than me now,” Epherene replied, crossing her arms with a smug smile.
“But your mental age remains as foolish as ever,” Sylvia replied, shaking her head in disbelief at what was said.
“Just be quiet and build us a house.”
Sylvia clicked her tongue, focused her attention on an empty spot, and slowly, the outline of a grand three-story mansion began to take shape in the air, drawn into existence.
“It’s done. Everyone, head inside,” Sylvia said.
“Yes. Thank you, Miss Sylvia,” Yulie replied.
“Impressive. So this is why Iliade is Iliade. Quite remarkable,” Delic said.
Yulie, Delic, and the others stepped inside, settling in with satisfaction as they unpacked their belongings.
“Now that I think about it, Sylvia’s talent really is unfair…” Epherene murmured to herself as she sank into the plush mattress of her private room’s bed.
Every time I regress, I realize it again—forget Origin, forget properties, Primary Colors is the best. As long as Sylvia is around, the very concept of sleeping rough doesn’t even exist, Epherene thought.
“… Yawwwwn.”
Whish— Whish—
And soon after, as she lay down in silence, sleep swept over her like a gentle breeze.
“Maybe I should just sleep for now…” Epherene muttered, her eyelids drooping as exhaustion sank deep into her bones. “I’m completely exhausted…”
Just as she was about to fall asleep—or perhaps, after it already had—Epherene found herself in a dream. And there, she came face to face with someone she had long forgotten or, rather, someone who had never appeared until now.
“… It has been a long time, child of Luna.”
It was Deculein’s father—Decalane, a specter of the past.
Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!
Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter