Just like before, the 237th attempt ended up in failure. I opened my eyes to the all-too-familiar scene of the City of Peace. The laughter of children, the bustling streets, the calm that belied the darkness lurking beyond the city walls. It was supposed to be a place of serenity, a sanctuary, but to me, it had become a bitter reminder of my own limits—a reminder of how many times I had watched this place fall.
I sat on a large bench, the kind made to accommodate even the largest of demon races, feeling its solid support beneath me. The stone was cool, and the afternoon sun cast long shadows over the square. Lyan sat beside me, silent. He was the only one who knew—the only one who could remember each loop along with me. His incubus abilities allowed him to keep the maemories, transferring them from me each time we restarted.
"I see," Lyan said, breaking the silence. "So you were a mechanical engineering professor, and now you're a magic professor. Is it even the same?"
