Inside the luxurious room assigned to Glenn.
A desk was placed in one corner, covered with all sorts of documents, and the scent of ink filled the entire room.
Glenn was reading through the papers and handling them while listening to the deputy commander’s report.
There had been a clash during the joint training exercises.
“…I’m terribly sorry, young master.”
Nedian bowed deeply, looking apologetic.
Seeing this, Glenn waved his hand dismissively, his expression tired without him realizing it.
“No… I expected as much to some degree. Still, it was my fault for pushing things too hard. Anyway, it ended well?”
“That’s true, but…”
The joint training between the two knight orders was Glenn’s idea.
Now that they were allied, whether they liked it or not, they needed to ease the tension between the two groups.
Some level of conflict was to be expected.
After all, the Kingdom of Arian and Lepent had a long history of animosity.
In past wars, the Lion Knight Order had even been operated like a special detachment for such reasons.
The likelihood of clashes between the Arian knights and the Lepent knights was high.
“Are the members dissatisfied?”
“…Honestly, I can’t say they aren’t.”
Those Arians used better equipment than even our mere cadets.
Yet their swordsmanship skills didn’t even meet the level of our trained knights.
They were more interested in refinement, artistry, and such frivolous things than in actual swordplay.
These kinds of complaints often surfaced.
I thought things would gradually improve over time, but that was just wishful thinking.
“Hmm, it’s not entirely incomprehensible. Arians and Lepent knights are too different.”
In the Duchy of Lepent, men and women alike learn to wield swords as soon as they start walking.
More precisely, whether it’s sword or bow or any weapon, they learn to fight from the start.
Why? The answer is simple.
Otherwise, they’d be killed by orcs.
For Lepent, the sword is an essential means of survival.
But Arian knights are different.
They have no arch-enemies like orcs that they fought with their lives since ancient times.
Enemies who resort to crime to escape poverty are few and far between.
For them, the sword is purely a choice, a form of culture.
“Should we stop the training?”
“Yes, pushing it further will only worsen things. But it is necessary. After all, we’re now formally allied with Arian.”
“…Yes, I’ll look for a solution. But—are you alright, young master?”
“Hm?”
“You look quite tired.”
So it was written all over his face.
Well, that’s another matter.
Glenn waved his hand again.
“It’s nothing. Just a lot on my mind.”
Suddenly, Nedian’s gaze turned to the pile of documents.
He didn’t know exactly what they were, but Glenn was always this busy.
“…Sometimes I wonder if too heavy a burden has been placed on you, young master.”
“Hmph, don’t worry about useless things. You should get going now.”
“Yes. Please do rest early today.”
Nedian disappeared outside the room.
But Glenn’s mind was still tangled.
“…Did I rush things too much?”
He muttered without realizing it.
As mentioned earlier, the two countries were now, at least formally, allied.
Therefore, it was right to quickly resolve the longstanding misunderstanding between their knight orders.
More importantly, though, was the need to correct the nature of the Lion Knight Order—especially their external hostility.
Only then could they recruit more knights.
“In the end, what’s needed are people and money.”
The alliance with Arian was just the first step.
To fundamentally stop the orc invasion,
they needed more knights and the funds to arm them.
This meant a structural reform of both the Lion Knight Order and Lepent’s economy.
“As fast as possible.”
The Grand Invasion.
No one knew exactly how much time was left.
In this lifetime, the orcs might start their invasion sooner.
That’s why Glenn couldn’t afford to rest calmly.
“…Damn it, my head won’t stop spinning.”
But his thoughts were foggy, blurred like a haze.
There was much to consider, but he couldn’t handle it in this state.
Eventually, he lay down on his bed to rest for a moment.
He barely pushed away the chaotic thoughts and surrendered to drowsiness.
***
Pitch-black space.
[Hello]
Again.
Damn it.
“…Damn it.”
At the greeting, Glenn’s face contorted uncontrollably.
This was an utterly unreal, pitch-black space.
The translucent emerald eyes that knew it peered at the man sitting across the table.
Then a small grin curved one side of the other’s mouth.
Tiny wrinkles appeared.
[Are you not a little too happy to see me? It’s embarrassing.]
The smooth-talking man’s red hair and green eyes bore a striking resemblance to Glenn.
It was like looking into a mirror.
The difference was the other’s red hair was duller—not only the hair, but the green eyes and even the skin were dull. Overall, he looked slightly older than the current Glenn.
Glenn knew this man.
He had seen him before… no, rather, he’d known him for a long time.
They had lived together in a past life.
“Riclang.”
[I already told you last time—it’s pointless to deny, friend. You are me, and I am you. Glenn or Riclang—there’s no difference after all…]
“Cut the nonsense and tell me why you popped up again.”
The dull green eyes widened as if surprised.
[Huh? You think I called you? No, it’s the opposite. You called me.]
Ugh.
Glenn bit his teeth unconsciously.
He hated this.
This situation, that damn bastard,
and even himself for creating this situation.
[Clemens—why did he spare you, huh?]
“What does it matter?”
[I’m the one he killed. Have you forgotten already?]
“Shut up.”
[I’m the one who killed you! Honestly, you struggled with that too, didn’t you?]
Glenn’s brow furrowed.
It was true Clemens had hesitated whether to kill or spare him.
[And that idiot officer should have been taken out earlier. What a fool!]
“…Huff.”
A few deep breaths escaped.
He was already too excited.
Glenn himself was well aware of this fact.
But it was just as hard to control.
[Hey, why do you hate me so much? You should love your past self a little more. Right? You never know, the me who was your past might become your future again—]
“Enough.”
“Huff.”
In an instant, a sword shot out and sliced at Riclang’s neck.
No, the sword just passed through.
As if cutting through an illusion.
[Oh oh, looks like that one landed!]
Riclang banged the table in front of him and laughed exaggeratedly.
This was a dream.
That guy wasn’t real.
It was simply a mental illness.
Just a damn nightmare.
Glenn repeated this to himself and closed his eyes.
[Glenn—poor Glenn. My friend Glenn, I know you better than anyone. Maybe even better than you know yourself.]
Riclang rose from his seat and slowly approached Glenn.
[You’re anxious right now. Afraid of failure, afraid it will repeat, afraid it will become like the past. Isn’t that so?
You pretend you’re not, but the fact I appeared is proof itself.]
Glenn still kept his eyes closed.
He wanted to block his ears too.
[When people talk, they should look each other in the eyes. Your mother told you that once, on your sixth birthday—while giving you the pendant…]
“…Shut up!”
As Riclang’s mouth spoke the family name, Glenn unconsciously swung a punch.
But like before, the punch only passed through empty air.
[Stupid.]
With a crooked smile, this time Riclang punched back.
Wham!
“Gah!”
The fist hit Glenn’s face properly.
Oddly enough, Riclang’s punches did not pass through the void.
They hit Glenn directly.
Wham! Wham!
As Glenn staggered, a couple more punches rained down.
Eventually, he collapsed and was swallowed by the pitch-black space, indistinguishable from the floor.
“Ugh.”
Trying to stand up, he writhed like a worm.
[Pathetic bastard.]
Riclang crouched and grabbed Glenn’s red eyes, forcing him up.
The clear green eyes facing him were filled with hatred—not just hatred, but resentment.
[Look at those eyes. Clemens is a dear friend of mine. You hate me? But that’s strange. You don’t deserve to hate me.]
The next question was driven straight into Glenn’s jaw.
He didn’t want to hear it.
He wanted to cut off his ears.
He wanted to twist that bastard’s mouth.
He didn’t want to listen.
“Cut the crap.”
Hatred dwelled in the red eyes.
Resentment in the dull green eyes.
Riclang’s face came closer.
In the dull green eyes—hatred, resentment, and loathing were all visible.
[It’s because of you I exist. Because you failed! Huh? You know it too, don’t you? Because you failed miserably! You ruined everything!]
“Shut up.”
[Don’t you remember? Your uncle, your mother, your father, even Eredin—all because you failed to protect them. So what makes you think this time will be different? All you’ve ever done in the past was fail.]
“No, that’s not true.”
[What’s not true, you filthy hypocrite!]
Crack!
As night deepened, Glenn’s mind wavered.
[You say you’ll do better this time? Changing into new clothes will erase your sins? You shameless bastard, you make me want to vomit.]
Crack! Crack!
“Ugh!”
Riclang snatched the small pendant hanging from Glenn’s neck.
It was now a little faded—a small red talisman shining faintly.
[You old bastard, why do you still carry something from so long ago? Still a six-year-old brat? How do you keep becoming more childish as time passes?]
Riclang examined the pendant once and then stood.
Between his index finger and thumb, the small pendant lay pitifully.
“…Give it back.”
Glenn tried to stand again, but could only writhe.
For some reason, his body wouldn’t respond.
The smile on Riclang’s face was the widest yet.
Deeper than any smile he had ever worn.
[You already know you will fail. You know, don’t you? It’s harder for those who know failure than those who don’t.]
Some failures become habits over time.
Whether you want it or not—the failures of the past become a pitfall, a shackle, holding you back.
[You’ve already failed once.]
His fingers clenched tighter and tighter.
At last, a despair settled in Glenn’s irises staring back.
“…Andu.”
[Remember, Glenn.]
Crack.
A long crack formed on the pendant.
Glenn felt as if his heart was splitting apart.
[I am your past, your regret—and your failure. And—]
Snap.
The small pendant completely shattered between Riclang’s fingers.
It turned into useless dust—pitiful red liquid dripping down.
[I am your future.]
“No, no!”
Riclang chuckled.
Holding his stomach—tears formed in his eyes as he laughed hysterically.
Glenn felt like he was suffocating.
It felt as if something was choking his throat.
“Huff… huff…”
[You will definitely fail.]
With Glenn’s strangled cry,
the black space began to break apart.
***
“Huff… huff…”
Glenn quietly sat up in bed.
Almost semi-conscious, he grabbed the sword beside him.
…Where was this?
The room from the edge of his memory.
Ah, right—it was a nightmare.
Damn it.
“A-alcohol…”
He desperately longed for a drink he had never touched his life.
He had almost cursed unconsciously, but there was no bottle in sight.
Recognizing his trembling fingers only intensified the craving.
And then, his eyes caught the red pendant on the bedside table.
Quickly grabbing it, he inspected it carefully.
Of course, there was nothing wrong.
Holding it tightly, he brought it to his lips, drawing in a deep breath.
It felt as if some unknown warmth seeped through.
“Huff… huff…”
He slowly calmed down.
Yes, it wasn’t too late.
He would pull himself together and organize his thoughts again.
Of course, his mood was still terrible.
For now, he just wanted to get his aching body moving.
Glenn rose from the bed and suddenly looked at the mirror in the room.
It was undeniably himself—or so he thought—when a faint smile flashed briefly in the reflection.
And then vanished in an instant.
This damned thing.
“You will definitely fail.”
A voice barely audible echoed in his mind.
“…Shut up.”
Smash!
Without realizing it, Glenn punched the mirror.
Dark red blood splattered pitifully on the floor.