—–

The world vanished before his eyes, and in an instant Louis found himself floating upon the River of Time.

Above, five thrones of blinding light judged all existence, while the purgatory below roared in fury, countless hands reaching desperately toward him.

“How have you been? Wasn’t that a wonderful time? Did you have fun being a monster, Louis?”

“…”

Louis didn’t even glance at the creature speaking to him. His gaze remained fixed on the five thrones that had always filled him with quiet wonder about who—or what—they truly were.

“Who are they?”

The Entity followed his stare upward. The radiance scorched its skin, yet it shook its head and turned back to him.

“They are beings you cannot comprehend.”

“…?”

“Your power is truly mysterious, dear Louis. Whenever you return, it’s always like this, isn’t it?”

The Entity drifted closer, trying to unnerve him with its dry, mummified face.

“Have you never wondered why that is the case?”

Louis fell silent for a moment, then gave a slow nod.

“Of course I have. I’ve always wondered what all of this means, but I never had the time—or the will—to ask.”

“I see…”

The fairy chuckled darkly, unfurling its shadowy wings as it descended. It snatched specters from the purgatory below and devoured them whole.

“You stand now in what is called a Limbo between Oblivion and Purgatory, where the River of Time flows. And where His power manifests, endlessly Creating. Where this Living Cancer devours the Universe.”

“…?”

“The Thrones above are the highest beings. We are so insignificant that they do not even acknowledge our existence.”

While listening, Louis exhaled a long, tired breath. He realized how futile it was to question his current place or why he always returned here.

He knew that if he kept going, he would discover the truth one day.

For now, he chose to focus on what lay ahead.

The River of Time pulled him steadily toward a blinding light.

He had only seconds left to think.

He closed his eyes and felt the Spiral of the Ashen Wyrm resonate deep within him.

“Tier 7…”

What should have sparked joy instead drew only a heavy sigh.

A new latent power pulsed inside him.

He had reached the peak of “The Lost” Realm as a Spiralwalker.

It should have been cause for celebration, laughter, pride… yet every deeper descent only made Louis long for everything to end.

But not anymore.

Within his fractured, still-broken Fantasy Heart, he heard a faint whisper.

Hollow Flame.

Dark purple flames erupted from his mouth, ghostly and steeped in curses.

They were forged from the countless deaths and madness he had accumulated across his previous descents.

This was his power now.

The ability of a Tier 7 Hollow Flame Spiralwalker of the Ashen Wyrm Spiral.

Breath of Ruin.

Empty, cold flames that consumed hope itself—curses that reduced everything to ash.

Louis, as a dragon, had finally gained his breath of fire.

And yet it came wrapped in curses and despair.

An utterly malevolent force: fire that did not burn flesh, but souls, spirits, hearts, and minds.

“It fits me.”

Once he reached Tier 6, he would awaken a Second Incarnation—one he had glimpsed before.

For some reason, he found himself looking forward to it.

“There’s more there…”

Another thing he noticed: his Fantasy Heart had never truly healed.

It remained in a strange, half-broken state.

One half was shattered, covered in large, irreparable cracks from which dark red roots twisted and grew.

The other half stayed fine and healthy.

“This is…?”

Deep within his Fantasy Heart, a twisted, ruined landscape unfolded before him, accompanied by a scorched and weakened dragon tree forest.

The Abyssal Dragon Tree of Ruin—the Grievance he had become—had never truly departed.

It lingered there, diminished and slumbering, slowly struggling to recover.

But it was still there!

“Hahah… Hahahahaha!”

Louis could not stop himself from laughing like a madman as he tumbled through the River of Time.

All that effort, all those sacrifices.

And that damned monster still lived!

This was…

His curse!

This was his eternal, damned curse!

The burden he would carry from this moment forward, forever.

A constant reminder of his mistakes, a warning never to repeat them.

A reminder… of every life he had taken.

Of the kingdom he had destroyed.

Of his loved ones.

“HAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Louis kept laughing even as tears poured down his face; he could not stop.

The laughter was raw, saturated with pain, grief, and an agony deeper than anything he had ever endured.

Even after the tears slowed, Louis forced a smile, baring his sharp dragon teeth.

“Good. Why not? I will make you my slave. From now on, I will wield your power for my own ends, Abyssal Dragon Tree of Ruin…!”

But the revelations did not end there. Within his Soul, alongside the returned Gungnir, the sleeping Belladine, and the fully spiritualized, slumbering Niflheim…

Three new Soul Treasures had appeared.

A small dark-purple stone holding the power of Zorba’s Spiral.

The dark, charred remnants of Mirai.

And… a crystallized red rose.

“Mirai’s bones… Why did I…?” Louis could barely comprehend why he had refined them into a Soul Treasure.

Perhaps in a final act of desperation, because he could not bear to let go of what little remained of her…

Perhaps because he refused to let her sacrifice become meaningless, determined to carry some fragment of her with him.

And Zorba’s stone—he had no memory of extracting it at all, yet somehow it had appeared inside his Soul.

“Why is this here? I never… took it.”

Louis’s eyes widened in confusion as he sensed Zorba’s faint, lingering presence within the stone.

That presence was bound to a powerful curse.

“Is this a binding curse? A conditional one that activated upon his death… He… he arranged it so I would inherit his Spiral Stone…”

Because Louis had been unable to receive it properly, the stone had simply flown toward him and embedded itself in his soul at some point.

Everything had been driven by Zorba’s dying wish—to pass what little power he possessed to his master.

“Zorba… Mirai…”

Louis clutched his heart tightly as he gazed toward the bright light drawing nearer.

It was almost time.

“This time… I promise I won’t let you die.”

FLASH!

♢♢♢♢

When Louis opened his eyes, he did not find himself lying on the floor of the Dimensional Labyrinth’s first level.

“And much more. For now, Louis. I have already told Mirai everything. She is on her way here as we speak. She quietly used a teleportation circle. She will appear in the plaza near you. Go find her!”

Instead he was soaring through the sky, a mechanical voice informing him that he had just finished speaking with his grandfather.

“Huh?”

Louis halted in midair, struggling to process what had just occurred. Behind him flew Tisha, Pekorine, Catrise, Fernand, Elises, and the rest of the knights.

He looked around. His city was under attack—several houses engulfed in flames. Many people had already been saved, but countless others were still struggling somewhere amid the chaos.

He found himself soaring through the skies, skeletal wings carrying him aloft.

“Lord Louis? Is something the matter? We have to hurry!” Tisha urged.

“…? Did something happen?” Pekorine asked.

“He looks unfocused. Did you hear something, my lord?” Catrise inquired.

“It changed.”

Everyone turned to him in confusion as Louis’s eyes widened.

He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at that moment.

All this time he had desperately hoped to alter the way he returned—to at least delay it a little, to come back later.

But this? It shattered every expectation.

The very instant he truly wanted to return to the beginning, that mercy was denied.

The chaos, the coup, those who had died, those who would soon die—it was all here, unfolding exactly as before.

Louis had returned to the heart of this catastrophic battlefield.

“Zorba…”

He immediately scanned the distance, sensing Zorba locked in combat with Vultarn High Dominion soldiers, commanding his Undead.

His brother had already located him.

Zorba was heading toward the Nameless Streets, about to link up with Mirai.

After that, he and Soma would combine forces and finally slay The Gardener once and for all.

But that plan had taken too long—long enough for Zorba’s brother to track him down and bring his Story to its tragic end.

“Although killing The Gardener remains the priority… saving Zorba is just as urgent,” he muttered aloud. “Zorba! Come back here right now! That’s an order!”

He projected the command across the distance using his awakened Esper Ability: Telepathy.

“…?! Lord Louis? What…! But aren’t I supposed to—”

“Do not disobey me. Return to my side immediately. You can command the Undead from afar, can’t you? Don’t risk your life.”

“…Very well.”

Zorba sounded bewildered but obeyed without delay, flying swiftly back toward Louis. The prince waited for the familiar thread of fate to reveal more details about what had transpired… but nothing appeared.

“It’s not working?!”

Surprise flickered through him, but he didn’t dwell on it.

“My Lord, I’m back—What’s wrong?”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep