Oath (1)
I knew Grace’s heart.
Knowing there are things you can’t have, no matter how badly you want them—that such things could make up the biggest part of your life—was cruel and hopeless.
“I won’t let you be unhappy, my lady.”
That was why, from now on, I would give it everything I had.
With all my strength, I would take what I wanted to possess.
Just like when I was young and ran toward things without knowing any better.
“I’ve long suspected your feelings for her, Rohan.”
Michael stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and leaned deeply into the chair.
“If not for her, you’d be dead already.”
...Yeah.
Maybe that was exactly why.
“But don’t confuse gratitude with love. What you feel is repayment, and she’s simply using that feeling.”
“Using... Do you, Lord Lippenstein, understand your own feelings?”
“No one knows me better than I do. So of course, my heart—”
“Then why is it, when I look at you, it still seems like you have feelings for Lady Grace?”
Only then did Michael turn to look at me.
There was a faint trace of killing intent in his gaze.
I continued.
“If you truly had no feelings left for Lady Grace, you wouldn’t have come here.”
“I came here to announce our annulment—”
“The truth is, you were worried about her, weren’t you?”
“......”
[Understanding of ‘Michael Lippenstein’ has increased.]
Michael rose from his seat and stepped up to me.
His face felt like a wall of ice.
It looked as though it would freeze everything the moment you touched it, shatter at the slightest impact. The pressure he gave off—it reminded me that he truly was the protagonist.
And Grace... she had always faced this kind of wall alone.
“Try speaking again.”
“You avoid her gaze and refuse to speak because you're trying not to hate her anymore, Lord Lippenstein.”
Michael Lippenstein—he was the protagonist of this world.
He had justice, a goal, and with that came a distinct [Setting] and [Narrative].
Though Michael sometimes showed sociopathic tendencies, willing to bulldoze anything in the name of his goal, he never abandoned his people along the way.
His justice was ‘the protection of the world,’ and his goal was ‘the happiness of what’s been lost.’
Right now, Grace was one of those lost things.
But even though he wanted to reclaim her, their justices were just slightly misaligned.
Grace Euclid’s mission was the “preservation of the Empire,” whereas Michael Lippenstein’s mission was the “destruction of the Empire.”
Both held “the people” as their core—but their ideologies were too different.
So Michael gave up on Grace.
Forcing her to abandon her beliefs would’ve been harder for him than giving up everything himself.
That was the ‘setting’ behind why Michael rejected—and eventually came to hate—Grace.
“That’s why you came here even though you didn’t have to. And you chose to act cold before she could fall into a false hope.”
[Understanding of ‘Michael Lippenstein’ has increased.]
As someone who had once rooted for him, I asked:
“Did I say anything incorrect?”
“......”
No matter how much the plot had shifted, this part of the setting would not have changed.
I was sure of it—because he was a ‘righteous protagonist.’
Then, Michael relaxed his expression.
“That’s the extent of your poor deductions? I’ve been watching just to see how far you’d cross the line. Turns out, you still know where to stop.”
Yes, if I went too far and said that, you’d probably go mad.
If I told you the real reason you accepted Ariel as your stepsister.
“You said you’d take Euclid away from me? You didn’t have to declare that to me. So why bother, why announce it like a challenge?”
“To get a definitive answer from you, Lord Lippenstein. Because there was always the chance you might change your mind.”
“Change my mind... From what I see, it’s you two who’ve changed the most. Or am I wrong?”
Michael was relaxed.
It was a composure that radiated from every part of him—as though he believed everything he desired would inevitably come true.
Compared to that, I had no composure.
I had to change Grace’s fate. If I didn’t, both she and I would die.
But at least in front of Michael, right now—I could afford to be a little composed.
“In my limited experience, when something feels like it’s changed, usually it’s because you have.”
I knew how to break Michael’s composure.
I even knew how to bring him down—far more brutally than Grace ever had.
“You won’t back down, huh.”
“If you grow used to defeat, you’ll never win on the battlefield.”
“Well said. I’ll commend that attitude. One should praise what deserves praise.”
“Thank you for the courtesy.”
[Understanding of ‘Michael Lippenstein’ has greatly increased.]
Michael’s softened demeanor eased some of my tension as well.
I’d been worried I might need to draw my sword, but I was glad that hadn’t happened.
I still couldn’t defeat Michael.
As he walked past me, his voice rang out.
“If you want her, take her.”
I turned to see his unshaken back receding with his voice.
And then.
“If you can, that is.”
〔 Narrative Revision 〕
···
[Your fate has worsened.]
I didn’t know where things had gone wrong.
Countless memories rushed through my mind. It felt like every moment might have been the cause.
One thing was certain: Grace also understood that the present had been shaped by a series of choices.
“Lady Grace.”
While Rohan and Michael stepped away for a moment, Grace had been staring blankly at her plate.
At Ariel’s voice, she finally lifted her head.
Ariel was offering her a handkerchief.
“You should wipe that.”
“......?”
Not understanding, Grace blinked a few times and then reached for her face.
Dampness met her fingertips.
Warm and clammy.
Grace quickly turned her head, embarrassed by the tear she hadn’t even noticed.
As she wiped it away, Ariel withdrew the handkerchief and rested her chin lightly atop her interlaced fingers.
“I heard you were recently appointed as a professor in the Springwind Swordsmanship Department. What a coincidence—I just finished enrolling at Springwind a few days ago.”
“That’s wonderful news.”
“Looks like we’ll be seeing each other often⸺.”
Just as Grace had collected herself and began to respond warmly.
“⸺We.”
Looking directly at Ariel’s face, Grace couldn’t finish her sentence.
That smile sent a chill down her spine.
Her lips curled upward, clearly.
But her eyes—her eyes weren’t smiling at all.
In those dull and unfocused pupils, Grace saw a darkness focused solely on her.
Her spine blazed with a burning chill.
Why does this feel so...
Even Grace—the embodiment of invincibility on the battlefield—was not immune to one emotion.
That sickening, skin-crawling, unnatural sensation.
It was death.
“You really are quiet, just like the rumors say. That’s okay. I’m used to silence. Oh, and I want to be a knight, too. Just like you, Professor Grace—beautiful and dazzling.”
Just for a moment.
As Ariel’s smile faded, that terrible sensation vanished like a lie.
Grace chalked it up to a mere illusion and returned to her usual self.
“You’ll be one. I’ll work hard to make sure of that.”
“I couldn’t attend your last lecture, but there’s already talk among the students. I heard it was about variations of ‘Four Seasons.’ That’s your personal technique, isn’t it?”
“I simply teach everything I have. If I didn’t, I’d have no right to stand in that classroom⸺”
“Haven’t you ever thought that your teachings might get you killed?”
Ariel straightened her posture and sat more properly.
Watching Grace’s expression gradually crack, Ariel resisted the urge to capture it like a photo and tuck it into her bookmark.
“Grace Euclid.”
In a cold, direct tone, Ariel continued.
“Everyone envies the glorious titles attached to that name. Myself included.”
“......”
“But really... how much blood do you think stains those titles?”
Grace’s name had been painted red with the blood of countless others.
“The greatest Weapon Master,” the “Alpha-ranked Sword God.”
There were many other titles—but none soaked in more blood than.
“How many lives do you think you’ve taken... to protect this land, Professor? How many people have you killed?”
She had once been the Legion Commander of the Habledown Empire’s 9th Legion.
“……!”
The crimson that stained the name Grace Euclid was more terrifying than a sunset over the River of Three Crossings, darker than the blood caked on a battlefield.
It was why no one dared approach her despite her fame.
It was also why she ended up alone.
Everyone knew it.
They knew she had no choice but to do what she did—to protect the Empire, to protect them.
So no one blamed her.
They revered her. Worshipped her.
But like blood that clouded your vision, a part of Grace’s heart remained soaked in guilt she could never speak aloud.
“Do you even remember them? The ones you killed? What they looked like? What their names were? Whose family they belonged to?!”
Realizing she’d raised her voice, Ariel quickly bowed her head.
“...I seem to have gotten too emotional. Please forgive my immaturity⸺”
“You’re right.”
Grace’s face was expressionless.
But beneath the table, blood dripped through her clenched fingers.
“I’ve killed many.”
Her confession, calm and without hesitation, struck something deep in Ariel.
“Because they served a different lord, had different goals, different beliefs, different definitions of justice... because they lived in a different world—I had to kill them.”
Countless faces flashed across Grace’s eyes.
Each one belonged to someone who had died by her sword.
She had never forgotten a single one.
“Beliefs, justice, goals... if those are different, must they all die?”
“Because I had something I needed to protect.”
“And for that reason alone, you killed so many⸺!”
“I wanted to protect this country, its people, and those I cherished.”
Grace closed her eyes.
And where those sorrowful faces had passed through, new ones began to appear—faces that made her heart race.
They were all people she loved.
And then.
Rohan...?
Among the few she could picture, only Rohan’s face stood out in clarity.
It was strange.
The face she always pictured last had always been Michael’s...
Confusion swelled inside her.
Rohan was undoubtedly a comrade she cherished—but not someone who had taken up this much space in her heart.
Yet a “sprout” bearing Rohan’s name had long since grown in her chest.
Then Grace erased Rohan’s face and stood, approaching Ariel.
“What are you doing? Sit down! Don’t come any cl—”
“But that doesn’t mean I feel nothing for them. I stole from them to protect what was mine. And...”
In Ariel’s eyes, Grace began to slowly kneel on one knee.
Just as she had on the day she first became a knight, Grace bowed her head before Ariel—as if making an oath.
“If you lost something precious to you because of me... if it left you wounded... then don’t forgive me. I don’t deserve it.”
“Stop... Please, stop.”
“It’s not time yet for me to atone.”
This wasn’t the answer Ariel had wanted.
So what?
They died because they were weak.
Fools who didn’t know their place.
That’s what she wanted to hear.
So that when she followed the letter’s instructions and killed Grace.
I have to hate you.
That way, her conscience would be just a little easier to bear.
But what came out of Grace’s mouth was not a public figure’s lofty rhetoric.
It was purer, more fragile, more genuine—so much so it made her fame feel hollow in comparison.
“So please, in this hell...”
To Grace, this world was already hell.
“Allow me... to live just a little longer.”
And in that moment, Ariel no longer knew what truth even meant.