Nine years after that resolution, in the spring of Divine Year 1644, Echinacea walked through the ruined temple. In her hands was the main altar that had been in the destroyed city of Azenka.
Azenka, the sacred city of the knights, had now become a desolate land where no one lived. Very little remained. But in the ruins of the temple, there was one thing that could not be moved by human hands.
The Divine Sword, KairosGiosa. A sword said to have been forged by a god through the tempering of time.
Unlike the other divine sword of space, which drifted through dimensions and was lost, the time sword had always been on this land, even before the legends of Giosa were fully known. That was why the Celestial Knights established their stronghold here, and a city independent of any nation, called Azenka, came to be.
KairosGiosa was embedded in the very center of the ruins. A sleek, delicate sword that shimmered with ever-changing light.
The surrounding sculptures and altars had been shattered, but even without them, the sword was mystical. It was proof of the existence of a god—one who could neither be seen, heard, nor touched.
No human could grasp that sword. No matter how far one reached, it was as if a wall blocked the way.
Yet, Echi had to hold it.
Her hair was cut short, and she wore tattered leather clothes. The traces of a long journey marked her body in countless ways. The hand she extended toward the sword was covered in wounds. At best, she looked like a mercenary; at first glance, she could easily be mistaken for a beggar.
And yet, the sword allowed itself to be held in her hand.
Nothing extraordinary happened.
Simply, the sword, untouchable by anyone, was now in her grasp.
At that moment, a voice entered her mind. Like a demonic sword, it was impossible to tell its gender.
[Qualified human, what is it that you desire?]
"…KairosGiosa."
Echi licked her dry lips a few times, then spoke in a hoarse voice,
"Send me back to a past where no one died."
The sword was silent for a moment, then asked slowly,
[Why do you wish to return to the past?]
"Because I want to save them."
[Whom?]
"…Those I killed."
[You killed them with your own hands, and now you wish to bring them back to life?]
"I didn't… kill them out of desire…!"
Her hand holding the sword trembled. A few drops of blood fell from her clenched teeth. The sword read through the time she had lived and understood.
[Very well. And then?]
"Then… what?"
[If time is reversed, all those you killed will live. In a world where they are alive, what will you do? How will you use the time you have regained?]
She was at a loss for words. For the thirty-five-year-old Echinacea, who had run forward for the sole purpose of saving everyone, this was the first time she had considered what came afterward.
What did I want? Why did I want to save them? Why did I want to change the past?
She muttered absentmindedly,
"…I'll just live."
[Just live? Is that all? You are alive even now.]
"Being alive now is no different from being dead."
[Why is that?]
"Because… in my current state, I can't possibly be happy. I can't even sleep peacefully…"
The words came before she could think. Only after speaking did she realize it.
She wanted to be happy. Even if she didn't know exactly what happiness meant, after killing everyone she loved with her own hands, it was impossible to find any.
That was why she had to change it.
She had gone madly in pursuit of Giosa for that purpose. In the past nine years, she had never slept properly. She had long forgotten the last time she had even smiled.
At her answer, the divine sword was finally satisfied. The blade shone with a gentle light.
[Good. I will lend you my power, qualified human.]
A vast, dizzying sensation filled her entire body. Everything began to blur.
The sword spoke one last time,
[There will be no second miracle. So do your best to find happiness.]
The sword moved.
Echinacea Roaz succeeded in turning back time. Fifteen years ago, to the days when she was still an ordinary young lady of a count's family.
***
She felt a light, fluffy texture beneath her. Absentmindedly rubbing her cheek against it, she suddenly jolted awake. Rising fluidly to her feet, she dropped her right hand and lowered her center of gravity, assuming a stance ready to respond to anything.
Rustle.
Her long hair, caught in the motion, finally settled behind her. She stared at it blankly. Soft, gently curling hair of pale pink. Though disheveled from sleep, it showed care and effort had been invested.
"Ah…"
Unconsciously, she grabbed her hair. Maintaining long hair has always been a hassle. Since reclaiming her body from the demonic sword, she had kept it cropped short.
And yet, here it was—long, and not darkened. Her hand holding the pale strands was white, soft, and unmarked by a single scar. Her nails were neatly trimmed.
She looked down at her body.
Wrapped in silk pajamas, it was slender and soft. She stepped off the bed. Her bare feet were flawless, without a callus in sight.
Under the bed lay pink slippers trimmed with lace-a faintly remembered possession. Slipping them on, she raised her head. She studied the fluttering canopy above the bed, then pushed it aside and stepped out.
"My… room…"
The familiar room, quaintly decorated. Echinacea stumbled toward the window. A breeze slipped through the slightly open pane, making the white curtains flutter. She pushed them aside and gazed out.
It was spring. She saw a garden dotted with pale green shoots and budding flowers. A gardener crouched before a bush, trimming the branches.
Beyond the garden, a training ground stretched out. A boy with light brown hair ran across it under the guidance of a knight.
"Lancel…lid."
Echinacea murmured the boy's name. It was her younger brother's name-three years her junior.
〈Sister… why…?〉
The last words of the boy who had died, drowned in blood. One of the vivid nightmares that haunted her.
Her eyes shook violently, like a storm.
Without hesitation, Echinacea threw open the window and leapt from her second-floor room. Her mind was as white and scattered as the fluttering curtains.
Even without conscious thought, mana moved of its own accord. Her body had no formed core yet, and she had no accumulated mana-but that was no obstacle to her.
She landed like a cat. Her gaze was fixed on the training ground. As she began to run, her slippers flew off and tumbled behind her. She paid no mind. Barefoot, she ran as if flying, plunging into the training ground.
"Miss?"
She passed a startled knight and went straight for Lancel, embracing him. His violet eyes, so like hers, widened in shock.
"Uh?"
The boy couldn't brace himself against her and fell backward onto the ground. Echinacea pressed his neck to her chest and laid her ear against him. Thump thump - his heart was beating. She was stunned.
"Sister…?"
"Lancel, Lancellid Roaz… you're alive."
"Morning? What are you talking about? There's no way you'd be awake at this hour."
Flustered, Lancel tried to push her away, then froze in shock. Her pajamas clung to her curves, revealing pale legs and slender shoulders-leaving him nowhere to look. He yelped and hurriedly tore off his own shirt.
"No, what's with your outfit?! Are you crazy?!"
"I…."
"I know, I know. You hate the smell of sweat. Fine, just bear with it for a moment. But why in the world did you come here at this hour looking like that?"
Lancel forcefully draped his shirt over her. The knight supervising him couldn't bring himself to look directly at her and cleared his throat awkwardly, averting his eyes.
"Young master, first, we should…"
"Yes. I'll take my sister back to the manor. Can we call it quits on training for this morning?"
"Then we'll make up for it next time. Well done."
"Good work, sir. Sister, get up… why are your feet bare again?"
Lancel muttered in disbelief as he helped her to her feet.
"Did you have a nightmare? You just woke up and look like this."
"A nightmare…"
Echinacea, dazed, fixed her gaze on Lancel. Then, suddenly, she pulled him sharply into an embrace.
Originally, her strength had been delicate, befitting a young lady raised with care. Yet, for some reason, Lancel nearly stumbled under the pull of her power.
Before he could steady himself or speak, she grasped his shoulders and looked straight into his eyes.
Echinacea's eyes shone more clearly than ever before. A strange, overwhelming presence radiated from her. Lancel immediately forgot what he had intended to say.
"Lancel."
"…Yes, sister?"
"What day is it today?"
"Huh?"
"What year, what month, what day?"
"…March 17, 1629. Sister, what's wrong with you? Is something the matter?"
"1629…"
Echinacea released him. Her expression was twisted, somewhere between a smile and tears.
"It worked. It really worked…"
Her legs gave out, and she slumped onto the dirt of the training ground.
She tried to rub her face with trembling hands, but the moment her right palm came into view, her movement froze.
On the white palm was a black pattern that didn't belong. She knew exactly what it was.
Her teeth ground instinctively. The crackling sound and the fierce energy that surged upward made Lancel's face turn pale.
"Si-sister? Sister… you're acting strange. Are you hurt?"
"It seems the young lady is not in good health. Miss, excuse me for a moment… ugh!"
A knight had stepped forward to carry her, but Echinacea reflexively pushed him away. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, shaking her head wildly.
"Lancel, sorry! I'm fine, really!"
"Sister!"
With words thrown recklessly, Echinacea leapt to her feet and vanished like the wind. Her movement was so fast that neither Lancel nor the knight could follow her. They stared, dumbfounded, at the shirt she had dropped behind.