The Protagonist’s Party is Too Diligent – 124
EP.124 Time (2)
There was generally no way to escape.
Alice and Leo had only managed to infiltrate the imperial palace by taking advantage of moments of internal and external chaos. Ultimately, though, they failed to escape properly and were captured.
But that didn’t apply to me.
If I reset time, I could return to before I ever set foot in this place.
Thanks to that, I didn’t have to bother transcribing anything or sneaking information out. After all, the one thing I had in abundance was time.
The room was silent.
Perhaps it was because this place was officially “nonexistent.” By now, it would have been reported that someone had infiltrated the palace, and alarms would be sounding, but no one seemed aware I had made it this far.
As soon as I exited the ventilation shaft, I went straight to the door and locked it from the inside.
Originally, this mechanism had been designed to buy time in case of an emergency threatening the palace. But since I had no intention of leaving, it served my purposes just fine.
I turned around.
Dust covered every surface in thick layers, enough to make me wonder if just standing here would harm my lungs.
The faint light from the magic stones illuminated the circular room, casting a dim glow over a peculiar object at the center of the space—a box-like structure densely embedded with nails.
However, the nail heads weren’t jagged. The ends were flattened, seemingly arranged to form a panel-like surface. To anyone unfamiliar with its function, it would have appeared as an odd and unique contraption.
I approached it and pressed down randomly on the “screen.”
The pressure from my fingertip caused some of the nails to sink inward. When I lifted my finger, the surface returned to its flat state, and then, as if responding to the input, specific nail heads rose from the blank surface.
The once-flat screen now displayed a textured surface of letters:
[Please enter the name of the desired volume.]
The golden nail heads had shifted to form this text, creating a mechanical display.
With a click, I pulled open a drawer located beneath the screen.
Inside was a typewriter-like device, but there was no slot for inserting paper. Each key, connected to thin metal plates, led directly toward the screen above.
I pulled the drawer fully open until it clicked into place, then began typing slowly.
Click, clack.
Each keystroke echoed loudly in the dimly lit room.
[04-08]
The registration number for the book of prophecies.
It wasn’t a number that could be found in the thick catalog of books hanging next to the screen.
Not that there was any need for additional security like passwords. Accessing this room alone was restricted to a select few.
Creak, clunk.
The sound of rusted machinery echoed as a brass pillar behind the screen opened, and a slender metal arm emerged.
Whirr, clank.
The arm moved, aligning itself to a specific slot with precise mechanical movements.
As the arm extended upward, the brass column rotated. The arm reached a high shelf and retrieved a book nestled near the ceiling.
The arm then descended, carrying the book back down to me. It extended forward, presenting the book so its cover was clearly visible.
[04-08]
The only marking on the cover was that number.
I reached out and drew the book closer. The mechanical arm didn’t release it; instead, it remained securely attached to a metal component embedded in the book’s spine.
However, it didn’t prevent me from opening the book.
As I flipped it open, the arm brought a magic stone closer to the book’s surface, softly illuminating the pages.
“……”
I flipped through the book without hesitation.
[What I have recorded of the future is not to prepare for that future but to prepare you.]
The message was clear: the future is predetermined, so don’t try to avoid it—just ready your heart for what is to come.
“Bullshit.”
I muttered under my breath.
Thud.
The sound came from the door. It seemed they had finally realized I had made it this far.
That was fast.
By my estimate, I would only have about five minutes to actually read this book before they broke in.
If I had to read every prophecy in this place from start to finish, five minutes was far too short.
But, well, the only thing I had in abundance was time.
I set the book down and murmured.
“Again.”
*
“Your Highness.”
“Sir Ford.”
It was a day as peaceful as any other.
I wasn’t crawling through ventilation shafts. I wasn’t fighting grotesque enemies. And I certainly wasn’t asking some bizarre, dust-covered mechanical librarian for a book in a dingy, foul-smelling room.
At least, that’s how it seemed to others.
I crossed paths with someone as I walked through the palace corridor.
A knight with a friendly face and a neatly styled Kaiser mustache bowed to me. He wore an imposing set of plate armor that looked far too heavy for modern combat. At his waist hung both a sword and a revolver.
The revolver was much larger and longer than the one I used.
I found myself wondering if it could pierce even the armor he was wearing.
“I’ve heard of the great achievements Your Highness has accomplished recently,” the knight said.
“Is that so?”
I nodded at the man’s polite words. It wasn’t as though I had anything to hide.
The events at Northwood were still a secret, but the battle at Winterfield had been widely publicized by the imperial family. It served both to boost the morale of the soldiers and to bolster the image of the imperial family.
What would have sounded like ludicrous rumors under normal circumstances had gained credibility. Every soldier present on the battlefield had been rewarded with extended leave and generous bonuses. They had returned to their hometowns, no doubt spreading tales of what they had witnessed.
With so many eyewitnesses and Winterfield itself as proof, there was no one who doubted the stories now.
“It pains us knights that we were unable to accompany Your Highness and ensure your safety ourselves,” Lord Ford said. Rather than starting with praise for my achievements, he began with an apology.
“……”
This man had no idea that earlier this morning, I had debated whether I should shoot my way through the palace guards or sneak in without being noticed. All of that had been erased when I reset time.
“There was no reason for imperial knights to be there, and it wouldn’t have made sense for an entire order of knights to accompany a single soldier to the battlefield.”
“……”
For a moment, his expression suggested he had much to say, but he remained silent. It was likely due to his knightly decorum; he would not act rashly in front of the one he served.
“…Still,” I began.
I couldn’t leave him like this.
After all, this was someone I had known since I was very young—a familiar presence within the imperial palace.
To speak directly with the princess, proximity alone wasn’t enough. One needed a valid reason as well—status, rank, age, and countless other factors had to be considered.
In that sense, Sir Ford was certainly in a position to do so.
“I appreciate your concern…” I said.
Sir Ford lifted his head at my words. For a brief moment, he looked at me as though he were seeing something peculiar.
Well, fair enough. It wasn’t the sort of thing I’d usually say.
Then, his expression softened into a gentle smile once more.
“Not at all. We’re simply doing what is expected of us.”
Hadn’t he mentioned recently that he’d had a child?
I gazed up at his amiable smile, lost in thought.
If his firstborn had survived, they would have been around my age.
Had I been an ordinary princess, there might have been talks of a marriage alliance between us. Even if not a formal proposal, his family’s noble lineage would have been enough to put them on the list of potential candidates.
But not long after I entered the imperial palace, he lost his child. It had been an accident, or so they said. I never learned the full story, but his face disappeared from the palace for some time. Likely, he had been grieving and preparing for the funeral.
I remembered hearing whispers—how it was hard to believe that even someone so earnest and kind could face such tragedy.
I considered saying a few more words to him but decided against it. Instead, I simply nodded again and continued on my way.
Behind me, I heard the sound of his footsteps, steady but slightly delayed.
If he were to die, his wife and child back in his territory would be left behind. Many would mourn his passing.
Wouldn’t it be better to turn back time and erase such a fate before it could happen?
…That was how I thought half a year ago.
But the longer I stayed here, the harder it became to shoot someone I knew—even if I could undo it by resetting time.
Perhaps it was because I had come to realize, once again, that my ability to turn back time might one day disappear.
The consequences of actions I had taken so casually had changed countless lives. Some incidents had made that fact painfully clear.
“……”
Suddenly, I thought of Mia Crowfield, who had looked at me with those same bewildered eyes at the end of the first semester.