When I opened my eyes, my vision was terribly blurred. Peering down at me with concern through the haze was the red-haired girl who meant more to me right now than anyone else.
"Gil, thank goodness..."
Char, the red-haired girl, clung to me, burying her face in my chest as her whole body trembled.
A dull, crushing ache throbbed through me. It felt just like before, when every muscle in my body had locked up stiff. Given that I had visualized that absolute pinnacle of strength, I had expected as much. I had probably been out cold for several days again. But more than that—
Could that dream actually be my past?
No, impossible. There was no way. I shook my head, trying with all my might to banish the ominous thought.
That man was a scoundrel depraved enough to sell out his own flesh-and-blood older sister. No matter how much of my memory I had lost, I couldn't believe I was capable of such atrocities. I was no saint, but I didn't have the nerve for something so brazenly monstrous. After all, I was the kind of person who got depressed just from feeling alienated by the monsters.
And yet... that dream was far too vivid, on a level incomparable to anything before. Rather than a dream, it felt more like an actual event from the past...
As if something so ridiculous could ever be true!
"Hey, Gil, what's wrong?"
Char looked up at me, her eyes brimming with worry.
"I'm fine. It's nothing!"
Forcing a smile through the agonizing aches racking my body, I spoke reassuringly and gently held Char close.
That had to be it. There was no way I was that kind of monster. Most likely, I was just a hunter hired by that man, and unable to stomach his cruelty—just like that young military officer—I had defied him, become a fugitive, and ended up lost in this land. That had to be the truth.
Nearly suffocated by the anxiety smoldering deep in my chest, I told myself that lie over and over again.
Humans are creatures that will always try to look away from the worst possible reality. That was precisely what I was doing. In that vivid dream, I was unmistakably that vile, irredeemable fool of a prince.
The sights, the tactile sensations against my skin, the scents, and even the emotions were not something detached like watching from a bystander's perspective; they were mine, pure and simple. The sheer terror of that truth made me turn my eyes away.
Surely, even then, I had a faint premonition that this moment would become the turning point leading down a dead-end road to an inescapable nightmare.