Albion’s Pastoral House (11)

“…A memory from a previous life? I do not know about the past.”

“If the knight Kision didn’t give you a little help in her previous life, there would be no such thing as Gideon Asel funding the Viscount when he was in trouble.”

The Memory of Promise quickly rewound. When the battle over the Kision territory broke out in the eighth world, Gideon Asel had been an anonymous donor who provided emergency funding to Kision, who had been cut off from central support due to political unrest.

‘And the reason… was it because she rescued Kleio Asel from the river?’

Kleio felt a shortness of breath, and the prince had a satisfied expression as he noticed his reaction. Melchior no longer checked the clock.

“The boy who wanted to die, but instead thrust into something he wasn’t prepared for. He may have been better off dead.”

The faint excitement of a revelation he had never obtained in his prior lives lightened the prince’s cheeks. It was a sight that exposed the faint madness that lay beneath the crown prince’s beautiful appearance.

“There are things that even those who have received such a powerful consecration don’t know. At one time, Baronet Asel had a delicate child who died prematurely. The red-haired knight rescued him from the water, but it was too late. The boy had already stopped breathing. But now, here he is, a hero of the capital who is about to die in front of me.”

Melchior’s lips twitched.

“I don’t remember that boy’s name. Maybe he wasn’t named in the first place.”

At least there was none that Melchior could remember. The child, whose gender was unclear, showed a faint presence only under Gideon Asel’s actions. In this recurring but not identical world, no memories were light, and no characters were marginal. Melchior was familiar with God’s way.

“Even though I remember the past, do you know why fate is still so unfavorable against me? It’s the rules, the cards, the roles, and the characters’ meanings that changed every time. At first, Theophila was a country girl, innocent and without the power of prophecy. But after eight repetitions, she became the sacred Theophila Igraine, representing the will of a mighty god.”

Melchior sat still and didn’t comply with his fate during that repetitive life, resisting the world that bore on him with even greater oppression.

“At that time, I had no choice but to reduce the presence of God.”

-The faith that thwarts him.

The prince’s words weren’t directed toward Kleio but toward the will that kept him here. He knew him and what he had done.

“I’m glad for this life. It became clear that the deterrent to maintaining the world was weakened. Previously, I had sent the doctor to the Tristein estate every time, but this was the first time Theo Tristein had held on for so long. It was also the first time I was able to raid Schliemann’s estate and that the young Tasserton learned of the crime of murdering his father.”

Leaving the wizard alone, the prince stood up to prepare his own tea. He poured hot water into a teapot with tea leaves. Kleio felt like he was going mad, but he didn’t forget his purpose. He was still achieving his original goal properly, which is wasting the prince’s time. Melchior put a cup down in front of Kleio first before sitting down with his own. In his hand, even the inexpensive industrial product with the parliamentary seal stamped on it looked to be a kind of art.

Ironically, Melchior, at this moment, felt most human-like than ever to Kleio. He acted like an adventurer wanting to be recognized for his achievements.

“You have a unique prediction skill, so you know what I will do someday. Did you see it?”

Not even Separation could prevent the ripples that were caused in Kleio’s mind.

“So, did you fear me so much? Even when I treated you as the friend of my youngest brother?”

Although there was nowhere to retreat, Kleio pressed back into his chair without realizing it. Yes, in the previous life, Melchior’s list of crimes after the war was long.

‘The one counted highest among them was the abolishment of ether from this world. Whether it was his purpose, an accident, self-will, the author… I didn’t know.’

No one could reveal why the crown prince, who was cold but fair and wise, had committed such an act. It was speculated that it was due to the royal family’s madness. A way that was only possible in a narrative world, like a thunderbolt or a storm willed by God, the curse of profane madness fell upon him to end his role.

‘The vision that Arthur saw… Melchior covered in blood is probably from that moment.’

At the end of the story, the crown prince, who met the coronation’s formal conditions through murder and intimidation, caused an ominous and weak eclipse. Arthur, who was seriously injured in his battle with Aslan, failed to overcome Tasserton and Melchior.

As Arthur faced an unfavorable battle, a gap was torn in the sky, and Melchior abused the right of consecration. The coronation of the Albion kingdom ended with the blessing of the king at the moment of the eclipse, forming a type of [Covenant].

‘He who knows the power of hymns enjoys permanent power.’

Melchior destroyed the promise that had allowed the kingdom to last for a thousand years by reading a curse instead of a blessing. At that moment, the last Door of Mnemosyne lost its connection to the outside, and most of the ether in the world was scattered and disappeared. Since this place was already an infinite distance from the gods, that faint connection ceased to exist.

Melchior’s last words weren’t recorded, so how he deprived the world of ether wasn’t revealed to the end. Thus, the end of the crown prince remained in mythical obscurity.

‘However, even if the door is abolished, the world will be completely over as the author wishes. Even though tremendous pain and sacrifice follow, history continues.’

Just like it did in the previous world in which Kleio lived. Even if the knight lost his sword and the wizard their healing, Tiplaum’s ether could still be activated. In addition, the ability of researchers with relatively low sensitivity to ether lasted longer than that of advanced knights. Melchior had no choice but to realize the story after that. The tremendous amount of tiplaum mined in Albion provided value to the entire civilized world. It stopped Brunnen from violently conquering the continent and sustained a period of hardship when magic was replaced by science. Hunger, disease, and the collapse of infrastructure cost many lives.

So, before the twentieth century, humanity went under a world shift. While suffering from the loss of ether, humans learned to run the world where God had left with their own strength. The age of myth shifted to one of humanity, and it was Arthur Riognan who took the lead. Arthur, a man possessing a singular will, and the king, opened a new era by encouraging the ordinary researchers from the kingdom’s academy of science and of the magic corps. It was when trains crossed the entire continent and mines produced coal stably did Arthur perform the ceremonies of government he had put off.

That was the end of part 1 of -The Prince of the Albion Kingdom- which Kleio had read, and in his opinion, it was a fair enough ending. The gods leave the world they created, and human history converged into the industrial age that Kleio knew well.

‘And it reassured readers that humans eventually overcome all those hardships. Arthur was a good enough protagonist and king… as he is here.’

He didn’t understand why Mousai had decided to rewrite the world that had been so elaborately created, with a history that was friendly and with few flaws. Enlightenment, as always, comes late.

‘Does the Goddess wish for such an industrial age to begin in the first place?’

He ridiculed himself, knowing he was an agent who couldn’t properly grasp the author’s intent or the will of God. However, this story hadn’t become irreversible yet, and he lacked the room to blame himself. Melchior observed the light of intelligence returning to Kleio’s hazel brown eyes with intense interest.

“…Yes, I saw it. All of that.”

“I was happy back then. My exit has always been in a different form, but it was the first time in my entire life that I was able to tear off the top of this precise world.”

“But, human history continues without end despite that. What is the significance of that attempt?”

“If they were satisfied with its history, why would God bring the world back? Isn’t it obvious that it wasn’t good enough? Likewise, if ether can be abolished, that which is called God’s grace, I could go back to that gap. If I endure this painful repetition nine times, will I be able to break God’s pen someday?”

He laughed as Kleio’s face went pale.

“Haha, what’s to be afraid of when it comes to God’s will?”

Melchior put down his empty cup.

“The ability to change the path of history is only granted to Arthur, and only when he moves with things be relegated to history. God’s grim pen omits other things. You, too, know that his life and the continuation of this world are connected.”

Arthur was no longer young enough to be called a boy, but Melchior still treated the mature young man as a little older than a child. To one who lived so many lives, no doubt he seemed like a child.

“So, what was the pain of knowing?”

“It is difficult to endure without God’s guidance.”

Melchior lowed his long eyelashes in disappointment.

“It was so fleeting to seek an understanding of my situation from someone chosen by God.”

Ding.

The hour hand suddenly turned, indicating the afternoon was passing.

“I haven’t even started talking yet, but the time goes by so fast. Now, it’s all because of Arthur that you’ve found me now, right?”

Kleio didn’t deny it; he couldn’t say something that Melchior would believe.

“I’ve no intention of taking his life, so you don’t have to be so anxious. How dare you do that? I don’t want to go back to the moment where I tear through the amniotic membrane again.”

Kleio hid his trembling as he set his teacup down, his head dizzy with all sorts of information flowing in at once.

‘I thought that something was a little weird, but it was that way.’

It was clear that even the almost omnipotent crown prince didn’t know that this was the final manuscript and that it couldn’t be rewritten.

‘If he knew… he would destroy the world of God who treated him so poorly.’

It was a truth that must be hidden. If he learned it, Melchior would slay Arthur and perish with the world. Thus, he would find permanent peace.

‘It feels like I’m walking on a tightrope….’

Suddenly, a sharp ringing sounded in Kleio’s head, the sound of the world stopping. The golden letters of Promise flashed with several warnings. A being deeply involved in the composition of the world was bleeding and suffering, biting back screams.

A black mist-like ink rolled in from the edges of the sky.

They weren’t clouds of glory. Rather, they were a harbinger of collapse.