# Ep24. At the End of the Rebellion.
-CLAAANG—!!
Sparks fly. In the moment of clashing blades, they gauge each other's strength, read the direction of force, and step back.
-SCREEEECH!!
Their gazes cross. Between the clashing blades, Etoile's blazing eyes meet Ivan's cold, settled ones.
"If only... if only you hadn't existed...!!"
Etoile shouted with a seething voice. If Krasilov had noticed the rebellion beforehand through his son, and if he had sent Liza at that moment.
In the end, all his failures were due to this single battered man before him. Like a walking corpse, yet still blocking every attack while staggering.
"You ruined everything!!"
Ambitions, dreams, even his own child.
All hope was scattering like sand through his fingers. Everything that had been within reach, almost within his grasp.
History would remember him as a rebel, a traitor, and a failed commander. His bloodline would be severed, and his territory would be dismantled as treasonous land.
He should have chosen to flee. If he had retreated with his remaining forces and regrouped, there might still have been hope.
But now it was too late.
-BOOOOM—!!
Cannon fire was striking the front lines. Under Krasilov's cursed artillery, the ambushed conscripts were fleeing in panic.
Through their ranks, Krasilov's transcendents were rampaging. Ignoring the soldiers, avoiding the knights, they focused solely on assassinating commanders.
For Tilles, whose command structure was organized by territory, there was no way to regroup once the command center collapsed. The nobles from each territory could only scatter in small groups.
By now, it was impossible to rally the troops.
"You weren't the first," Ivan said with a dying voice. Despite his trembling arms, weakened legs, and staggering body, his sword path remained impeccably clean.
His voice pierced through the surrounding chaos and reached Etoile's ears precisely.
"And you won't be the last."
-CLACKCLACKCLACK—!!
Breaking the alliance, conspiring with demons, plotting rebellion—all of it.
From a microscopic perspective, these were merely isolated revolts by ambitious individuals. Ambitious people with their own reasons and ideologies leading armies.
But from a macroscopic view, there was clearly some greater flow at work.
A persistent current that sought to exploit the alliance's weaknesses, overthrow monarchies, and collapse human forces.
Perhaps it could even be called the flow of history. Maybe that was the ending this world desired.
This world was clearly not friendly to humans.
"But even so."
Ivan, once a tenant farmer, knew. Even when wildfires spread, crops withered, and storms occasionally ravaged all farmland.
Yet despite this, people would rise again with their old plows to till the fields.
Even on homeland devastated by war, atop the blood and corpses of the fallen. People would take up old tools and rebuild homes, villages, and cities.
Humans were not made to fail.
Even if some will of this world hated humanity. Even when those called gods joined hands to oppose humans. Even in times when all races gathered armies to burn humanity.
Yet despite all this, humans still survived here, preparing for the next millennium.
-CLANG! SCREECH!!
The sword was deflected. Finally, his left hand lost function. Ivan retreated and swept the ground.
He picked up an axe from among the corpses. Fortunately, his right arm still moved.
-CLACK!!
He met the blow aimed at his head. The flying sparks curved slowly. In the domain of transcendents, the two superhuman warriors drove their weapons into each other.
Ivan, who had been dangerously staggering as if about to collapse, rose once more with a weapon in hand.
-CLAAANG—!!
Martial arts is about accumulating years of experience to reach for the sky.
-CLANG—!! SCREECH!!
Even if it's unreachable, perhaps. Even if it's just a vague concept that might never be attained in a lifetime. Simply desiring it.
Not acknowledging limitations. Or, even if acknowledged, not accepting them.
So, for a lifetime.
Dedicating one's entire life, throwing that lifetime before the challenge.
-CLAAANG—!!
The spear broke. The axe cracked. With magical power depleting, time gradually accelerated. The domain of transcendents was breaking.
Yet Ivan still rolled across the ground, grabbed weapons, and charged. As if determined to move one more time if he couldn't keep up with time.
Like burning, dedicating his entire life to a single goal. Burning his life away.
"Why, why won't you die... WHY?!"
These were injuries that should have already been fatal. Human will can never overcome physical limitations. That's common sense. No matter how determined a knight might be, when arms are severed and legs broken, they should fall.
Shattering that common sense head-on, Ivan emerged once more from the flames.
One weapon after another.
With countless people's techniques, countless martial arts, countless sword paths changing with each moment.
As if facing different opponents every instant, with the pressure of confronting an entire army, Etoile's hand finally lost its strength.
-CRACK!!
Slipping through that gap like a snake, an axe struck down on his neck.
"Kuh...huk!"
Etoile's body convulsed briefly. From the opposite side, a short spear shot through and pierced his liver. Ribs cracked and shattered, tearing through his lungs.
Khuk, kek. After a short breath, Etoile's knees buckled and he collapsed to the ground.
Ivan took a deep breath while gripping the axe.
-I will not call your thoughts "homeland."
-Call them memories. Not something you've lost, but something built up with you.
Edel's voice echoed in his ears. When was that? It seemed like a voice from long ago.
Words he had heard in Pritzenkaya during a summer when flower petals rained down.
Ivan felt he finally understood her meaning.
"I see."
The senses he had blocked for battle—hearing, touch, smell, and other perceptions—were slowly recovering. The still faint surrounding noise and heat buzzed, disrupting his nerves.
In the stillness amid that chaos, Ivan quietly nodded.
"I see now."
Memories. She had understood his lifetime better than he himself had.
If his past life was his memories, all the things built up with him. Then.
Now he could willingly acknowledge it.
It wasn't that 30 years had passed "only" since the prologue.
But that 30 years had passed "from" the prologue.
From his beginnings as a young tenant farmer boy until now. That long period wasn't a prologue, but the unbroken story of one person.
His story wasn't a journey to find an epilogue, but one where the process itself held meaning.
He hadn't been moving according to the will of the dead, but building memories with those he once lived alongside.
He realized too late. He had missed too much. Ivan smiled faintly with dry lips.
-THUDTHUDTHUD—!!
He heard something approaching. Though difficult to gauge direction or distance, it was cavalry forces.
He put strength into his bent knees. Adjusted the hand holding his weapon. Since he wasn't dead yet, there was no reason not to move.
Through his wavering vision, someone was running toward him.
"Vanka... Vanka...!! VANKA—!!"
Standing with weapon in hand, he slowly gauged the distance. But his arm wouldn't respond. Here's my limit, he thought with a smile.
-Whoosh.
Something like thick cloth wrapped around his shoulders. He felt a large blanket covering him. Through blurry vision, Ivan staggered and fell to his knees under even that small weight.
Something warm touched his cheek.
"Vanka. Vanka, please. Please—. Is nobody there! PRIEST!! Bring a priest!! Hurry!!"
Thud, thud, thud. With the sound of heavy footsteps, the surroundings filled with people. Turning his gaze, they looked like knights.
Knights holding massive shields surrounded him like a fortress.
They had their backs turned. For the sovereign of Krasilov may only show tears before the Lord.
Ivan saw Elizabeta's sobbing face before him.
"Vanka, ah... ahhh—. Don't die. Please, I beg you... hold on just a little longer. Please."
"Your Majesty."
At Ivan's dry voice, Elizabeta startled and approached.
"Are you conscious? Do you... do you... do you recognize me...?"
"Do not request. Simply command."
"Vanka...."
Elizabeta looked down at him silently for a long while, then reached out and pulled him close.
Until the priest arrived, so that no one would dare harm him. Deeply.
As his cold body gradually warmed, Ivan could finally fall into a deep sleep.
-Tap, tap.
At the sound of raindrops hitting the window, Ivan slowly opened his eyes.
An unfamiliar ceiling.
He rolled his eyes to survey his surroundings. He saw snow-white bedding and clean furniture. Outside the window stretched the late autumn sky of Tilles. Rain was pouring down.
A hospital ward?
Ivan turned his gaze again. He saw the back of a man standing by the window.
"Are you awake?"
"Oskar."
Oskar smiled faintly as he approached and sat in a chair. After a moment of silence, he spoke first.
"Three days have passed. Her Majesty Elizabeta will be disappointed. She was by your side for all three days."
"..."
"The war is over. Ironically, I was the most unscathed among our group."
"Is everyone safe?"
"Yes, fortunately."
But there was no joy in Oskar's smile. Ivan could sense deep sorrow beneath that expression. Before waiting for the next words, he sighed heavily.
"The good ones always seem to die first."
"...Lord Yeremov."
"The funeral?"
"Two... two days later... it will be held."
"Will you stay?"
"No. I have a younger brother. A good lad. I have other duties to attend to... the Hero Party still needs a knight."
"I see."
Ivan turned his gaze again. Looking at the ceiling for a moment, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Hearing Oskar's low sobbing, Ivan quietly bowed his head.
[Quest Complete!]
["??? Level Quest" Dark Clouds Over Tilles.]
[You and your companions have finally crushed the conspiracy of the Tilles noble houses and achieved peace. The war has ended, and an era of peace has returned. For now, at least.]
[Objective: Prevent civil war among the three major earldoms of Tilles (Completed)]
[Jean Beltuah de Bermontfort: Detained]
[Etoile de Grandmartel: Deceased]
[Guillaume de Hautleans: Deceased]
[Optional Objective: Ensure the survival of Gil Ber de Etakrich (Failed)]
[Optional Objective: Encounter with Maximillian de Etoile (Failed)]
[Additional Objective: Keep destroyed territories under 15 total (Success)]
[Additional Objective: Preserve the Tilles royal family (Success)]
[Calculating rewards.]
...
[Reward: Extension of the United Kingdom's existence by 5 years]