The gigantic dragon stared at me, his enormous body gulfing the immense void.
"Interesting," he boomed. "Most people would fight their destiny, despite being powerless to change it. Even though this is a world constructed from memories, when people realize it, they opt to remain to try and change the past, not knowing that none of this is real. You, on the other hand, chose to break free from the shackles of the past and immediately return to reality."
"That's only natural," I replied with a casual shrug. "The laws of time don't ever change. No one can return to the past and rewrite history, no matter how much they want to. Yeah, I've done things that I regret, and made decisions that on hindsight I shouldn't have. I have made lots of mistakes, errors that I wish I could correct. But wishing to return to the past wouldn't be productive. That's life. As much as I wish I could save my parents, I have to accept the reality that the past has already happened, and no amount of wishing or desire would allow me to turn back the clock. The only thing I can do is to look forward, keep my eyes straight ahead, and move on."
"Intriguing." The dragon god continued to study me before he finally nodded. "You are correct. Most people would get caught in the dreams of their past, staying imprisoned within their own memories because they desire to change a past that has already been set in stone. They refuse to believe that they cannot alter the past and instead choose to remain in their memories forever. Thus they fail the trial and remain locked in a temporal stasis forever."
They probably read too many reincarnation or returnee stories. Those stories were the rage right now, especially among web novels. Immortal cultivators who lived for centuries or even millennia in another world, only to be returned to their teenage selves or young selves (particularly the son-in-law stories). Or apocalypse stories where the protagonist died, only to be sent back to a few years, to right before the apocalypse happened.
I guess I could see the appeal in these stories. After all, who didn't desire to go back to the past and fix every single mistake they had ever made? Problem was that these stories were filled with too much grandiose face-slapping and they simplified matters to the point where everything was easy-flowing for the protagonist, where nothing would ever go wrong because he had a perfect memory or a repertoire of cheats. It was such an easy route out because it was like having a walkthrough. All you needed to do was avoid the mistakes you made in the past. Of course, these stories often gloss over the possibility that you could still make mistakes in your second time through, hand-waving every obstacle away with cheats, treasures and brute force.
The ultimate wish-fulfilment power fantasy, I suppose.
But I wasn't a big fan of those stories. I always believed in moving forward, no matter how terrible the mistakes I made in the past were. If I made a mistake, I should learn from it and try to fix it, not go back to the past and undo everything. In fact, making mistakes were just as important as success. The only way to grow strong and succeed was to make mistakes while you still could and learn as much as possible from them. And to keep an open mind and move on. The path of progress was straightforward and linear, and while you certainly could take detours, it wasn't a road where you could simply erase all signs of your footprints just because you decided to backtrack.
"So, what was the whole purpose of showing me my memories?"
"It's a trial," the Dragon God explained. "To see who would stay trapped within the past and who would break free from it. And you have proven yourself by doing the latter."
"Okay…what now?"
"A second trial…upon bearing witness to a truth, I'll require you to make a choice."
"What truth? What kind of choice?"
"You'll see, soon enough." The Dragon God shifted, his continental body rippling across the cosmos. There was another flash of light and I found myself floating over what seemed like a church.
"Where is this place?"
I didn't recognize the church at all. I wasn't sure why the Dragon God brought me here, not until I recognized the figures occupying the interior.
Herman, Irene and the rest of the party had gathered within the church, huddled together and whispering conspiratorially. My absence was notable – I gathered that this was most likely the time after they had eliminated after the disastrous first assault on the Demonic Emperor's castle. The one where they abandoned me to Vincent Lucard, leaving me behind so that I could stall him for time while they made their escape.
"It is done," Herman was pale and perspiring, his arms trembling. He was staring at them, almost as if he didn't believe what he had done. "We've eliminated Klein."
Yeah, seemed like my guess was correct. Herman looked as if he was still in shock, like he couldn't believe what he had just done.
He swallowed and looked up at Miranda, in particular.
"You had better not be lying."
"Bah!" Bradley barked. "Even if Miranda didn't tell us about the ritual, I would still have killed that bastard sooner or later! I've always hated his guts! He was always so arrogant and condescending!"
Perhaps I was, but Bradley was the last person I wanted to hear that from. Particularly when I considered how he behaved toward women, including those already married.
"It was necessary." Irene, the bitch, was assuring Herman. "He was usurping your position, surpassing you in reputation and popularity. If you didn't kill him, all the soldiers would support him over you. He's too dangerous to be left alive."
"He was so fake!" Yvonne sneered, folding her arms. "Always going around acting kind and pretending to be selfless, helping soldiers and villagers! That pretentious performance makes me barf! We all know his true motives. He's just doing this to become popular!"
"There is no one in this world who is truly selfless," Miranda agreed. "All humans are innately selfish and self-centered. Who knows when he would use his popularity to turn on us?"
What in the bloody fuck?! How did they even come to that conclusion? I couldn't even begin to point out how wrong they were. If they didn't want to help others, fine. I didn't blame them. But they killed me because they were worried I was using my so-called popularity that I had gained from helping the common folk to…I don't know, turn against them? How exactly was that supposed to work?
"Besides," Irene added with a nasty smirk. "If Klein is truly as kind and selfless as they say he is, surely he wouldn't mind sacrificing himself for our sakes? He should be honored to be a hero who sold his life in order for us to survive. We should honor his sacrifice by living on."
Ironically, she was right. If this had happened differently, I wouldn't have hesitated to risk my life to buy them the time they needed to escape. If Herman had asked me to hold Vincent Lucard back while the rest of the party retreated, I would have acquiesced without question.
But no, they had to betray me, chop off my legs and cut off any route I had to escape. They even gloated and insulted me while I lay there helplessly. It was the manner of their betrayal that irked me, and not my sacrifice.
"I'm surprised, though." Yvonne turned to regard Alan, who had remained as quiet as ever. "I never thought you would agree to this, Alan. Weren't you the one who always insisted that Klein was the second-most useful member in the party?"
"He is," Alan agreed. "Even now, he would have remained the strongest in our party, second only to me. His skills are still superior to Herman, and his use of magic is more skilled than Miranda's. He can even serve as a medic if we are bereft of Irene's healing magic."
Everyone turned to stare at him.
"Then why?" Yvonne pressed. "What changed your mind?"
"I didn't change my mind," Alan replied. "It's just that…with his current strength and ability, and the rate at which he was growing, he would eventually become the biggest threat to the League of Shadows. Given his personality, he would undoubtedly stand against us. It was necessary for me to eliminate him before he grows even stronger."
Stupidly enough, it was their attempt to eliminate me that granted me far more power than I could ever imagine. New vampire powers, check. An army of demons at my command, check. Whereas I had no idea how much stronger I would have grown if I was left as a normal ice mage.
"I never understood what this League of Shadows you were from is." Miranda shook her head. "What sort of organization is it? I understand that it's underground, but what do you guys do, specifically?"
Alan didn't answer. Miranda sighed and turned away, her gaze falling upon Herman, who was still staring into space in disbelief.
"Are you all right, Herman?" Irene asked worriedly, holding his hands. He looked at her, his eyes glassy.
"I can still see his expression," he mumbled. "The betrayed look on his face when I cut off his legs. I can still see it."
"Hush, don't think about it." Irene embraced him, pressing his face into her ample bosom. "You did well, Herman. You did what you had to do. What we have to do."
"What's done is done," Bradley told Herman. "Stop obsessing over it. Focus on the present."
"That's right." Herman swallowed and turned to Miranda. "The ritual, could you please explain it in more detail?"
"Yes, that's right." Miranda cleared her throat and smiled, her eyes gleaming excitedly. "This curse…by the use of sacrifices, it will produce a very strong light. Powerful holy magic that we can then bestow upon Herman. It will improve his abilities remarkably."
"Sacrifices?" Herman didn't look like he liked the sound of that…despite the fact that he had just sacrificed me.
"That's right. While it's true that the use of sacrifices will create darkness, the corresponding light produced to counteract it will be equally immense. The larger the darkness, the more rage, hatred, agony, despair and other negative emotions imbuing the darkness, the more power you will gain from the resultant light."
…huh? What the fuck was she talking about now? Sacrifice? Darkness? Light?
"The ritual will first create darkness from the person who was sacrificed. Light will appear in order to counteract that darkness – thus the deeper the darkness, the more powerful the light will be. And by bestowing this light on Herman, he will gain tremendous power."
Miranda repeated her explanation in more simple terms to the confused looking party.
"Huh, I get it. But why choose Klein as the sacrifice?" Yvonne's brow was furrowed. "Wouldn't it be more efficient to sacrifice demons if we are looking for darkness?"
"No, demons aren't related to that kind of darkness, though they can still be used because the goal is to generate the darkness through anger, hatred, pain and despair – basically, any kind of negative emotions."
Miranda nodded thoughtfully.
"The reason why I chose Klein as a sacrifice is because he was the purest in the party. A kind and innocent person who avoided conflict as much as possible, who selflessly and diligently fights for the sake of his comrades and help others."
"I thought we were all agreed that it was all an act, that he was just being fake and pretentious?" Bradley grunted.
"You know we're just saying that because we're jealous of him," Miranda said dismissively. "Also, another reason is because he will be the only one among us to object to this sacrifice. He couldn't even bear to sacrifice common soldiery and cannon fodder when fighting the demons, so what makes you think he will sacrifice his comrades, who he has been fighting alongside for much longer?"
"True," Bradley agreed nervously.
"The purer and cleaner that his heart is, the more it will break upon betrayal. That's why I had you say all those things to enrage him. It was to generate a vast darkness, amplified by his negative emotions. That was also why I asked Herman and Irene to have an affair right in front of him the night before. It was part of my calculations to have him feel rage, despair and hatred, as well as pain, by having his lover and childhood friend cheat on him, by having his best friend cuck him. I thought that the best friend and lover would be the best trigger for such negative emotions."
"That failed, though," Alan pointed out quietly. "I'm afraid to burst your bubble, but Klein has never regarded Irene as his lover, and he couldn't care less that she slept with Herman."
That was because I was aware that she was a slut from day one and refused to touch her, for fear of contracting some sort of venereal disease.
"That was just an act!" Yvonne barked at an embarrassed Irene. "You had better not think that Herman is yours just because of this! I'm his real wife!"
"We all slept with him," Miranda agreed. "I'm probably the one he slept with the most, so I'm his real wife."
"I…I will definitely catch up!" Irene shouted.
"Ahem," Bradley coughed and glared at the three girls. There was a glint of lust in his eyes, but he clamped down on it, especially when he glanced at Herman. "I don't want to hear about your sex lives or you turning this into a shuraba over Herman. Can we get back to the topic at hand?"
I noticed Herman glancing at him. I wasn't sure, but I thought I could tell from his expression that he was thinking something along the lines of "I should have sacrificed Bradley instead of Klein." But he didn't, probably because he knew I would have objected to it.
Unlike them, I was not in the business of betraying my comrades. Even now, on hindsight, I would never have agreed to this farce. Rather, I would have done everything within my power to stop this ritual.
Miranda cleared her throat and composed herself.
"By having the comrades he thought he could trust this entire time betray him, trample upon his trust and selflessness, it would trigger a massive wave of negative emotions."
Well, if that was their goal, they certainly achieved it. The hatred and rage that I felt at their treachery were unquenchable. I didn't care if the darkness would eventually consume me. I was going to get my revenge.
"Um, it doesn't feel like it worked, though." Herman raised a hand, looking troubled. "I don't feel any stronger than before."
"You are right. It's because we failed." Miranda scratched her head, looking sheepish. "I was too busily running away from the lord of vampires that I forgot to carry out the rites. Not only that, the ritual would have been interrupted by the demons anyway. We should have carried the ritual out and sacrificed him in a more secluded forest. You know, like a forest somewhere, filled with sword wolves. If the ritual had worked, then we should have seen black chains coiling around his body. His hair should begin falling off and turn white, and his body should wither away because the ritual is designed to suck the vitality out of his body."
Were they seriously trying to rip off a certain web novel right now? The one where the protagonist gained a Fixed Damage skill?
Never mind. Did they seriously just say that they sacrificed me…just for the ritual to fail? So basically they earned my grudge and brought my revenge upon themselves…for nothing?
This was getting stupider and stupider.
"Then what the fuck do we do now?" Bradley demanded, throwing his hands up in exasperation. Even Alan looked annoyed, his brow crinkling. His mouth was covered by the mask, but I could still imagine his irritated expression. Herman seemed ashamed and in despair.
The girls, on the other hand, remained apathetic. Irene appeared as if she thought this was nothing more than a minor inconvenience, Yvonne was incredibly amused, while Miranda was too busily pondering other options.
Then the multi-mage finally spoke up.
"Simple. We just have to enact the ritual again."