Ch. 249 · Source

The Desired Future

After leaving Lueria and Frederick to wait in the guest room, the five of us—Shion, Fuuka, Teruche-san, Haruto-san, and I—made our way to Christopher-san’s office.

I didn’t expect Lueria and her companion to cause any trouble, but I used [Bird’s-eye Vision] to monitor the situation just in case. Everything seemed quiet.

Following Teruche-san’s lead, we entered the room. Christopher-san was there to greet us, wearing the same monocle I remembered from before. However, unlike our last meeting, his face was masked with shock the moment he saw me.

"I had heard that Shion had awakened and was on her way, but I didn’t expect you to be with her."

"I’m sorry for the sudden intrusion, Christopher-san."

"...No. For you, Orun, I will always make time."

Though he was clearly still shaken, the gaze Christopher-san turned toward me was filled with a gentle, brotherly affection. It felt nostalgic, yet strangely comforting. Memories of him playing with me when I was a young boy came flooding back.

"Thank you. There is much I wish to discuss, but first, I have something to tell you. I’ve regained my memories."

At my words, Christopher-san rested his head against his interlaced fingers and closed his eyes, lost in thought. It lasted only a moment before he opened them again, a soft smile playing on his lips.

"...I had a feeling that might be the case the moment I saw you. Since you’ve remembered everything, there’s no need to be so formal. You don't have to call me 'Christopher-san' anymore. You can go back to calling me 'Big Brother Chris,' just like you used to."

He was a magic artificer who had once studied under my father. During my years in the Village of Dawn, he had visited frequently. He always took the time to play with me, and I had looked up to him like an actual older brother.

However...

"...No, I’m fairly certain I just called you 'Chris' back then. No honorifics. Please don't go making things up."

That was the truth. I had always called him 'Chris.' No matter how much he had begged me to call him 'Big Brother,' I had stubbornly refused. I did it because I loved the look of defeated amusement that crossed his face whenever I said it.

"Hahaha! That’s right. You did. ...I see. So you really have remembered. I’m glad. Truly..."

Perhaps finally realizing the weight of my words, Christopher-san’s eyes grew misty as he whispered the sentiment to himself.

"If you're willing, I’d like to interact with you just as we did back then."

As I stepped closer to him, he gave a delighted smile.

"Of course. In that case, feel free to call me 'Big Brother Chris' from now on."

"No, I’m sticking with 'Chris.'"

When I flatly rejected his request, he broke into that familiar, wry smile I had always liked. While we were caught up in our nostalgic back-and-forth, Shion stepped forward.

"I hate to ruin the trip down memory lane, but I’m actually quite cross with Chris right now."

"Oh? Is it because I’m hogging Orun’s attention?" Chris teased.

Shion looked annoyed but shook her head.

"It’s not that. You’ve been keeping a lot of secrets from me, haven't you, Chris? For example... about Cavadele Evans."

Cavadele Evans. My grandfather. He was a legendary magic artificer said to have advanced the technical standards of magic tools by a century during the Northern War decades ago. According to the history books, he had committed suicide about ten years ago.

In reality, he had been alive all this time, running a general store in Tsutrail while keeping a watchful eye over me.

"Cavadele Evans...? You mean the man who died ten years ago? I’m not hiding anything about him."

Chris looked genuinely bewildered by Shion’s accusation. Haruto-san and Teruche-san shared the same reaction. Only Fuuka remained indifferent, maintaining her usual detached air.

"...?"

Shion tilted her head, clearly not expecting their confusion.

"Shion, I think they’re telling the truth," I interjected. "They don’t know anything about Grandpa—Cavadele Evans—beyond the official story."

"...What do you mean?"

"This is the world as it exists after time was rewound in exchange for Grandpa’s life. To put it simply: in this world, Grandpa actually did die ten years ago."

I had previously assumed Grandpa faked his death to reset his social ties. Now, I realized the truth was deeper. Grandpa had foreseen the outcome of the previous timeline a decade in advance and ensured that his existence in this new timeline was terminated ten years prior.

Likely, anything he had touched or influenced over the last decade had either been erased from history or replaced by something else.

I glanced down at the storage magic tool on my left wrist. Grandpa had originally made this special-grade item for me shortly after I became an explorer. While the physical shape remained the same, the spell formula within it was likely now a standard, mass-produced version. It probably didn't have the expanded capacity or the ability to store mana anymore.

Fortunately, I remember the original formula. I should be able to reproduce his work myself, I thought.

"I see. That makes sense," Shion said, accepting the explanation.

Chris, however, had found a different point of interest. "Orun, you’ve mentioned several intriguing concepts. Would you mind explaining?"

"Of course. That’s why I’m here."

I proceeded to explain everything that had happened before the world turned back. I told them how the Cyclamen Cult had raided Tsutrail specifically to break my spirit. I told them how Grandpa had used the Cult’s own malice to fuel his plan to rewind time, and how Chris and Haruto-san had been willing participants in that plan. Finally, I explained how I had regained my memories and my original special ability as a result.

"...So you're saying we allowed the people of Tsutrail to be slaughtered by the Cult just to see this through? Hahaha... We really are the criminal organization the world thinks we are, aren't we?"

Chris let out a weak, self-deprecating laugh.

"I won't say I’m comfortable with how it all went down. But without that sacrifice, we wouldn't be here, and the world the Cult—or rather, Beria—envisioned would have become a reality. That’s why I won't forget that defeat. I’ve sworn to carry the weight of that past while I move forward to achieve my goal."

"You're strong, Orun. So, tell me—what is this goal? Is it the destruction of the Cyclamen Cult?"

"That’s just a milestone, Chris. My real goal is to break this world. And then, I’m going to lead the people living here to the Outside World."

Near the end of the Fairy Tale Era, the world had been plunged into chaos. The people of that time, led by August-san, had narrowly defeated the Evil God. However, that war had devastated the environment, making it nearly impossible for humans to survive.

Faced with extinction, August-san created a new realm—the World of Principles of Magic—as a sanctuary for humanity. The people fled there, hoping to one day return to their true home: the Outside World. But as the centuries passed, that hope was forgotten.

"So that is your intent... I have one question. This world has flourished for hundreds of years. Between that and the Cult’s interference, people have not only lost the desire to return to the Outside World, they’ve forgotten it even exists. No one may even want what you're offering."

"I know that. But I’m going to do it anyway. I could give you noble excuses about doing it for the world or the dreams of our ancestors, but the truth is simpler: I want to see the Outside World. I’m going to clear away every obstacle in my path so I can get there."

"And the world itself is the obstacle you’ll break... I see. The time has finally come."

Chris whispered the words with a voice thick with a cocktail of unidentifiable emotions.

Amunzaas. Along with the Cyclamen Cult, they were regarded as one of the two great criminal organizations. Their infamy stemmed from their long history of murdering explorers to prevent the conquest of the Great Labyrinths.

The Great Labyrinths functioned as sealing devices for the Evil God, but they were also the pillars that sustained this artificial world. If all the labyrinths were cleared, the World of Principles of Magic would collapse and be swallowed by the harsh reality of the Outside World. To the people of this era, that meant the end of the world and the extinction of humanity.

But since the Cult had rewritten history and perception, almost no one knew that truth. The Evil God was considered long dead, and anyone claiming the labyrinths sustained the world would be laughed at as a madman. Human desire cannot be easily suppressed; it was only natural for people to want to conquer the Great Labyrinths—the one feat no one had ever achieved.

I was no different. I, too, had been charmed by the allure of the labyrinths. I understood the explorers' hearts better than anyone. Because the explorers wouldn't listen to reason, Amunzaas had resorted to blood.

"We have stained our hands with blood for centuries, all for the sake of this day... Can we finally say it was all worth something?"

Chris stared down at his palms as he spoke. Beside me, Shion looked down, her expression pained.

"I can't judge whether Amunzaas was right or if your actions had meaning," I said.

They had killed explorers to save the world—the classic dilemma of sacrificing the few to save the many. It was a survival strategy used countless times throughout history. As someone so close to them, I couldn't be an impartial judge. That role belonged to the people of the future.

Whether Amunzaas would be remembered as butchers who slaughtered innocents or as the saviors of the human race remained to be seen. Since the outcome was uncertain, one could only walk the path they believed was right.

"...Going forward, I may find myself in situations where I can't avoid taking the lives of my enemies. Even so, the goal I’m aiming for is a 'happy ending.' I know that’s a heavy restriction to place on ourselves, but even so, I want you and the rest of Amunzaas to cooperate with me on those terms."

"Orun..." Shion whispered my name, her voice trembling.

As a member of Amunzaas, Shion had taken many lives. Her alias, the 'White Demon,' was proof of just how much blood she had shed in their name. I could see the crushing weight of her guilt in her eyes.

Back in the Hidden World, she had been the one to validate me when I was drowning in my own remorse. She had saved me. Now, it was my turn to reach out to her.

Christopher-san looked at me and broke into a genuine, heartfelt smile.

"I understand. If we can achieve our goal without further killing, there is no better path. Amunzaas was originally founded alongside the Fairy Tale Hero to find a way back to the Outside World. If you have inherited his will, we have no reason to refuse. And on a personal note... I’d very much like to support my little brother’s dream."

"Thank you, Chris. I’m glad to have you with us."

With that, I had officially secured the cooperation of Amunzaas.

In a way, I suppose things were finally settling back into their rightful places.

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The Jack-of-All-Trades Kicked Out of the Hero's Party: The Swordsman Who Became an Enchanter Reaches the Pinnacle of Versatility

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