Chapter 4: Reclaiming The Timeline; Resolves.
"For what?" his mother asked, her brows knitting together in confusion as she studied his tear-streaked face. "Why are you crying?"
Azrael froze. The question dragged him back to memories—memories he wished he could bury deep. The faces of those he'd lost flashed before him, their cries ringing in his ears. He quickly wiped the tears from his cheek and forced a smile.
"It's nothing," he replied, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside.
His mother didn't look convinced. Her piercing gaze seemed to see through his façade, peeling back layers of carefully constructed lies. But after a moment, she relented, giving a soft shrug as she returned to scrubbing the floor.
"How was training today?" she asked, her tone casual, though her eyes flickered back to him now and then.
Training. For a moment, Azrael struggled to connect to the present. Images of Kael and Leona filled his mind—the days when they'd trained relentlessly to outgrow the small village swordsmanship school. Back then, their dreams had seemed so tangible. Kael, with his endless jokes; Leona, with her quiet determination; and Azrael, the ambitious leader who'd promised them glory.
"It's fine," Azrael muttered at last, his tone distracted.
"Fine? Really?" His mother raised a brow. "Elys told me you killed a group of goblins today."
Azrael winced. Of course, his sister had spread the news. Elys didn't just gossip; she broadcasted every detail to the entire village.
"They might've attacked the village if I hadn't stepped in," Azrael admitted, though exhaustion bled into his voice.
His mother paused mid-scrub, her expression softening. Then, as if making a decision, she stood and walked toward the chimney.
"I have something for you," she said, retrieving a cloth-covered basket.
Azrael frowned, watching as she placed the basket before him. When she pulled the cloth away, his breath caught. Gold coins, silver trinkets, and precious gems spilled over the edges—a small fortune.
"Mom... what is this?" he asked, disbelief heavy in his voice.
She smiled, her hands clasped tightly together. "When you first told me you wanted to join the army, I didn't think you were serious. But as I watched you—your drive, your determination—I realized you were. And I knew it would cost more than we had."
Azrael's heart sank as she continued.
"I've been saving this for you since last winter solstice. It's not much, but it might help you get started—"
"Mom, stop." Azrael shook his head, his voice trembling. "You don't have to do this."
"Azrael." Her voice was firm now, the warmth of her earlier smile replaced by determination. "Take it. I want you to follow your dreams, no matter how far they take you. If anyone deserves to be a hero, it's you."
Guilt tore through him like a blade. He couldn't hold it back any longer. "I'm not joining the army."
Her expression faltered, confusion and hurt flashing across her face. "What? Why?"
"It's... complicated," he said, avoiding her gaze. How could he explain the truth? That he'd already lived this future—where his enlistment led to tragedy, where the village burned, and where Kael and Leona both fell. He couldn't tell her about the strange, inexplicable power that had sent him back in time to fix it all.
For a long moment, his mother simply stared at him. Then, to his surprise, she smiled.
"That's fine," she said softly.
Azrael blinked. "Wait... you're not angry?"
"Angry?" She chuckled, though her eyes glistened with unspoken emotion. "Azrael, I worry about you every day—what you'll eat, when you'll wake up, how you'll finally figure out that Leona likes you."
"Hey!"
"But your future?" She reached out, placing a warm hand on his cheek. "That's not for me to decide. It doesn't matter whether become a hero or not, whether you become wealthy or remain just some stonecutter downtown.Whatever path you take, I'll support you. I believe in you."
His throat tightened. "Thanks, Mom."
But even as her faith warmed his heart, Azrael's resolve only grew stronger. He wasn't leaving the village to its annihilation, no matter what seemed to have stood his way.
---
Azrael paced beneath the sprawling shade of the village's oldest tree. The ancient oak had been their meeting spot for years, its roots twisting through the earth like the threads of their shared past.
"Where are they?" he muttered. "I told Leona to bring Kael."
The afternoon sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the ground. His patience wore thin, and his mind churned with possibilities. Then, out of nowhere, a faint glow caught his attention.
The air shimmered, and a translucent screen materialized before him.
[STATS]
[SHOP]
[INVENTORY]
[QUESTS]
Azrael stared in disbelief. The interface was unlike anything he'd ever seen—a strange artifact of his mysterious rebirth. Tentatively, he reached out, but his hand passed through the glowing panel.
"Voice commands, maybe?" he guessed.
The screen flickered in response.
"Inventory," he commanded.
A new screen appeared, displaying rows of weapons.
[Weapons unlocked under title: Cavern Butcher]
Beast Dagger: +20% Damage – 2000 Coins
SED Sickle: +30% Damage – 3000 Coins
Black Plasma: +25% Damage – 2500 Coins
Azrael's eyes narrowed. These weapons were his ulocimtrrtrewards for defeating the goblins. And the title—Cavern Butcher—hinted at something more. If he could unlock new titles, he might gain access to even greater power.
"Interesting," he murmured, closing the screen.
"Talking to yourself again, huh?"
Azrael turned to see Kael approaching, his ever-present grin plastered across his face. Leona followed close behind, her quiet elegance a stark contrast to Kael's boisterous energy.
"Hey, dude," Kael greeted, plopping onto the ground with a dramatic sigh.
Leona, ever composed, crouched across from Azrael, her gaze drifting toward the horizon. In the fading light, she looked more like a reserved noblewoman than the fierce soldier she'd one day become.
"So," Kael said, breaking the silence, "what's the occasion?"
Azrael took a deep breath. "I'm quitting the trials."