"...Karyl, Karyl!"
He slowly opened his eyes at the voice calling him. The blurry vision gradually became clear.
Light...
He turned his head, gazing at the shifting scenery outside the window as the sunlight shone through the trees.
"Are you nervous?" said a man, looking at him with a worried expression. "Don't worry."
Seeing Karyl staring back at him, the man rubbed his face with the back of his hand, probably wondering if there was something on it.
It was a face Karyl hadn't seen in a long time.
Father...
When was the last time Karyl had seen him alive?
Thud—
His seat trembled for a brief moment. Realizing he was inside a carriage, he let out a sigh of relief.
Karyl remembered now. It was the scene he had longed to see—the moment he wished for. Everything was as he had planned.
"How long did it take..."
The huge tower that used to make him shiver was not in sight.
He was certain.
It was before the Oracle War.
Karyl couldn't hold back his smile, and the man looked at him in puzzlement.
Of course, no one could truly understand Karyl's feelings now. He felt as if that leap through time had brought him a whole eternity back.
Finally, he let out to himself the words he had been holding back.
I'm back.
*
"You can resent me if you want," the man said to Karyl as the carriage stopped. "Your tribe is gone now, and you are the only survivor. Perhaps that anger will make you stronger as you live."
They were in the borderlands, and the splendid mansion they had just reached did not seem to belong there.
"I'm the one who killed your father," he continued as they walked through a well-kept garden. "Your father, Karliak, was a great warrior."
"..."
This was the name he had forgotten. Karyl looked up at the man. Kuwell MacGovern, the captain of the Blue Knights of the Imperial, one of the five Swordmasters on the continent, and Karyl's foster father.
War prevailed in that era, claiming countless lives. A year prior, Emperor Titan Shutean issued an imperial decree—the Heresy Extermination Decree—and thus appeared those known as the heretic hunters. All those who defied conversion and refused to worship the Gods faced ruthless execution.
Being labeled as heretics, Karyl's tribe disappeared for the same reason. The standards were straightforward: inborn magic. People of the empire had magic, whether strong or weak, but Karyl's tribe didn't.
Olivurn's rise to the throne marked the end.
The emperor, once worshiped as a good ruler, whom he had slain with his own hands, lingered bitterly in his memory. He was a wretched friend who believed in God until the end.
In the empire, Karyl's distinct eye color marked him as an outlier. His black eyes were a telltale sign of belonging to a tribe branded as heretics.
Father....
Karyl looked at Kuwell.
He had exterminated many tribes, and he would wipe out others still. Ironically, the man who had taken in the orphaned Karyl was the very same man that had turned him into an orphan in the first place.
"This is where you will stay from now on."
How could Karyl call him father when this man was his actual father's killer?
Three years until the Oracle War...
A lot had happened, and Karyl recalled these memories over and over so that he wouldn't forget them.
Crreeaaak...
The door to the mansion opened.
Five boys were standing in front of the door looking at him. One with curiosity, one with fear, one with anger, one with indifference, and one...
Karyl scanned them as well, but his gaze held a completely different feeling—as if he was finally meeting someone he had longed for.
Martte, Tiren, Elliot, Randol, Jake.
He spoke their names to himself, one by one.
"Nice to meet you."
The boy standing at the front reached out to Karyl. He was the only one who resembled Kuwell, which made sense—he was Martte MacGovern, Kuwell's only direct descendant and heir. The other four, like Karyl, were not related to Kuwell by blood.
They are all alive.
His gaze wavered, and he closed his eyes.
Memories of fighting with them to uphold the Prophecy of the Oracle flooded back.
"..."
The eldest, died with his heart pierced by demons in Maron Canyon; the third, turned to ashes in the bleakness of the Kivell Battle; and the fifth, torn apart by the fangs of demons... But now they were all looking at him with vibrant faces. Among them, the eldest, who would die most miserably, reached out to him.
Big brother...
With a sense of nostalgia, Karyl looked at Martte. His brothers appeared innocent before his eyes, and none of their faces reflected the trauma of the battlefield. They seemed young. No, they were young, children even.
Karyl truly felt that he had returned to the past.
He suppressed his emotions and shook Martte's hand with a calm look on his face.
Kuwell gently pushed Karyl's shoulder and spoke in a low voice.
"Alright, let's get in."
"Yes, father."
The children followed him into the mansion.
"..."
As Karyl stepped on the last stairs, he stopped for a brief second. Then, he slowly looked up.
"What are you doing?" called Martte MacGovern, beckoning Karyl.
"Nothing," responded Karyl, turning his head away with an awkward, ambiguous expression on his face.
He was not looking at the ceiling, but rather through the ceiling, as he recalled a certain someone.
Are you watching, Yula?
Karyl muttered the name of the Goddess. Soon, the dreadful ordeal she was about to impose would begin, and the nauseating stench of blood would fill the nation as the War of Oracle unfolded.
If you are not, then watch carefully. I will change everything from now on.
The carpet beneath his feet felt soft. When was the last time he had felt the sensation of soft shoes instead of rigid armor?
He had climbed the hellish tower and returned to the past. Not by chance, but by his own will. And by his own will, he would make his wish come true.
I will change the future.