EP.19 S1. 이리드와 센트라의 피날레 -2

EP.19 S1. The Finale of Irid and Centra -2 Irid walked ahead to prevent Centra from getting dragged into the fray. From the far end of the corridor, a fluttering crimson was approaching. The sound of their footsteps reverberated boisterously until, at a moment, they both halted at once. Bathed under the dim lighting, the prince and the mercenary faced off. Irid stood upright, dagger in hand. Sshink. Lonya pulled out her longsword, resting it on her shoulder, her face reaching the peak of annoyance and rage. She spat out her words like poison. "I knew from the start I didn't like the look of you. You had a face that just screamed bad luck." "You’ve been nothing but a nuisance too, you lowly mercenary scum." "Had Centra not picked you up, you’d have long been sold into slavery, you rat whose only skill is⋯⋯." "You talk too much, and time is of the essence. If all you plan to do is blabber, then run away now. I won’t bother chasing you." "Who do you think you are calling a worthless mutt──!!" With both hands fiercely gripping the longsword, Lonya charged. It was a movement Irid recognized. Despite only having a week to prepare, Irid had practiced frantically, to the point of blistering his hands. I can block it! Clang-! Grating metal screams. The weight of the longsword was nearly too much for the dagger to parry. Blade against blade, twisting and barely deflecting, each time Irid's body would sway violently. Yet he did not fall. One clash. Two clashes. The sound of scraping metal echoed off the walls of the secret passage, creating a sinister resonance. Sparks flew in the darkness, and with each clash, they seemed to ignite like flames transferred. In Lonya’s eyes blazed a furious inferno, while Irid’s resolve only solidified. Parry and deflect. Lonya felt a parching thirst akin to her throat drying up. Her attacks were blocked! No matter how furiously she struck, she couldn’t land an effective blow! Time⋯⋯ was on the prince's side. Unless he killed Centra and pinned it on the 'Kingdom Alliance', all his preparations for taking over the resistance movement would crumble to dust. Desperation crept into Lonya’s movements, making them sloppy. Irid did not miss the opening. Between the silvery arcs of her sword swings, he thrust his blade. Shrrip──! Blood sprayed. With a bewildered look on her face, Lonya staggered back, gazing down at her sliced forearm. Blood flowed. Bright, scarlet red blood. This was not how it was supposed to go. Irid gasped for air. His lungs shriveled, and his arm was numbing. Though unscathed, fatigue was accumulating. If it came to endurance, Irid was certain he would eventually falter. In that moment, Lonya and Irid's thoughts aligned. They needed a trump card to end this duel. Lonya fumbled for a black pill inside her clothes. Irid frowned; he recognized what it was. A narcotic doping agent produced by black mages, circulated in secrecy. Down Lonya’s throat went the drug. Grimacing at the taste, she coughed and spat dryly before a twisted smile crept upon her face. "⋯⋯Heh, hehe. This stuff, it’s really, something extraordinary⋯⋯." Her muscles and veins bulged visibly, and soon dark blood began oozing from the gash on her arm. The doping effect of the black pill varied, but on average, it enhanced the user's ability by 30%. This had been one of the worst-case scenarios discussed in the planning. The first princess had cautiously predicted defeat. However, Irid saw a chance for victory. Gripping his dagger backwards, he steadied his mind. Repeating to himself solely for his own sake, he shed his hesitations. "⋯⋯I wanted to date." "I wanted to sing together, to finish our unfinished tales. To convey my true feelings, if only I could." "But, it seems there won’t be enough time⋯⋯." The mage may have been mad, and though she could have been deceiving herself, she didn’t lie. She had said that this dimensional shift was absolutely safe. Indeed, when Irid returned from his first dimensional journey, despite enduring persecution within the future Crown Hall, his physical body had remained unchanged. The body from the dimensional shift and the physical body in reality were distinct. Then, what did death mean in the world following a dimensional shift? The answer was very close. Irid glanced down at the watch tattoo on his wrist. The tattoo showing time ticking from 1 to 0 still had much time left. Perhaps between that 1 and 0, there might have been moments where he confessed to Centra. A time now left to be but a figment of imagination. Gurgle. Gurgling. Struggling as if in agony, Lonya twisted her body, foam mixed with spit dribbling from her mouth. Was she seeing phantoms? Her head jerked a few times, and with inverted eyes, she looked at Irid. A crimson beast charged with a roar. "Die, just die, die, O Eternal Emperor──!!" Kaaang-!! Lonya's longsword, swung with speed and force far greater than before, knocked Irid's arm aside with one strike, leaving his chest defenselessly exposed. Lonya pulled a dagger from her waistband. As expected, the decisive final move was with the dagger. It could have been blocked. But, even if it was, the result would have been the same. He wouldn't be able to ward off the following, or the next vicious strikes. So, Irid embraced her. An agonizing sensation akin to being burnt enveloped him. The dagger pierced directly through his ribs and into his heart. As blood dripped and his heart throbbed, Irid felt his life force draining away. A chilling, deathly sensation. "⋯⋯Keugh, to think, that this is merely, an illusion⋯⋯?" Irid let out a hollow laugh. The pain was duller than anticipated, but the sensation of dying was eerily vivid. If this was an illusion, was it meant to replicate the sensations of someone truly dying? In that moment, the tattoo of the watch burst into a brilliant violet light. The watch hands began moving rapidly. From 1 to 0, they scattered. It was as expected. He wouldn’t die. If he wouldn't die, then death was the stake to bet on. Irid reached out, securing his grip firmly around Lonya's head. "⋯⋯Your last embrace, it irks me it's with you⋯⋯ but it will have to do." "Stop, die-! Die⋯⋯ Let go-!!" He lifted the dagger gripped in reverse. His own face faintly reflected upon the raised blade, eerily smiling despite its pallor. But of course—because in the end, he had protected what mattered. Thud-! Thump-! Irid plunged the dagger into Lonya’s neck repeatedly. Until her twitching body turned cold. Until her movements ceased. As he loosened his grip, the lifeless body of Lonya slid to the floor. Clutching the wound at his chest, Irid staggered before collapsing to his knees. “‘Die, O Eternal Emperor’... you said? If that's your wish, I’m willing to die over and over.” For there will no longer be an Eternal Emperor to tear down the empire. --------------------------------------------------------------- You struggled to lift your heavy eyelids. It seemed like rain was falling. And there she was, the woman you loved, crying so sorrowfully. It was both heartbreaking and joyful. You were glad you fought to lift your eyelids—that's how precious the sight was to you. “Irid... Irid! Come back to your senses, please...!!” It’s okay. I am just returning to my original world. Not to death, but instead... to a place a bit further away, a hundred years back. Even if your lips moved, no sound came out. How cruel. You should comfort her. This lovely woman, she looks much better with a smile. “Somebody, someone... Please, anybody help! Someone...!” There was no chance of anyone appearing in that secret passage. Even if they did, the wound you had suffered was grievously deep... and no one can collect the time that has slipped away. Have you lost all the ability to move? There was something you needed to convey. Luckily, your hand seemed to be able to move. Carefully, you raised it and wiped away Centra’s tears. It didn’t really serve much; the rain continued to pour regardless. In that case. You took Centra’s hand. Just as she had guided you, you wished to lead her too. To share warmth, to give joy rather than sorrow. Perhaps she felt your intent; tears still on her face, Centra managed a feeble smile. With both hands, she grasped your lifeless one, holding it tight as if pleading not to go, and smiled. “I love... I love you, Irid.” You heard the most delightful words. You had to respond. You needed to tell her that you felt the same. You summoned strength into your hand. A feather-light pressure—but Centra seemed to understand. “Because I love...! Because I love you, don’t go. Stay by my side... Don’t die, you can’t, Irid...!!” At last, you shared your love, your hearts mutually acknowledged. It was as if you were just taking the first steps in a relationship. Yet time was up... and you knew this would be the last step. How wonderful it would have been if there was just a little more time... As you exhaled what could have been your last breath. Centra made up her mind and leaned in. Her long lashes, red-swollen eyes filled with tears, and glistening eyes in sorrow gazed upon you, her lips nearing. Centra was about to kiss you... --------------------------------------------------------------- "⋯⋯⋯⋯." Prince Irid II let out a hollow laugh, filled with disillusionment. He lay numbly on the magical seal. He was flooded with emotions—regret, joy, a muddle that spun him into confusion. So indifferent was the sky above, to end time at the most crucial moment. Three seconds... no, even one more second. If only. Or perhaps⋯⋯ it was a mercy that he had preserved Centra’s purity. She would meet another man, build a happy family, and live a joyful life. Looked at in that way, a missed kiss... No, he had still missed it indeed. Irid stood up, wiping his face dry. All around him, the mad mage was tearing at her hair, tormented, while the purple tower master attempted to soothe her. Whatever chaos was unfolding, Irid found himself unable to concern himself with another’s plight. He had just parted ways with his first love. Leaving the two mages behind, he stepped out of the tower. The first princess and the young knight were waiting outside. The princess had been briefed on the dimensional travel magic. First Princess Elaine cautiously asked, "⋯⋯Did you save her?" "I did. The future’s uncertain, but... if it’s Centra, she’ll be able to navigate through it." "That’s good, truly⋯⋯" The incident was over. Now, back a hundred years ago in this place, he should focus on the future Centra would live. He wanted to ask whether now, really, there was no next chance, to create one if there wasn't... But that was a plea to reserve for when he could truly bear no more. For now, he would be content having saved Centra. With the sensation of the kiss that was never shared lingering in his imagination, Irid took a step forward into the future.