Currently, Unknown was in the midst of helping Alice with her personal hygiene and addressing her physiological needs, all after the brief breakfast they had shared.
The conversation they had the previous day had allowed a level of comfort to build between them, but there was still an undeniable sense of awkwardness.
As Unknown carefully rebandaged Alice's wounds, his sharp eyes scanned the extent of her injuries.
The damage she had sustained was extensive—cuts, bruises, burns, and deep lacerations that would require more time than her body seemed willing to give in order to heal.
He was impressed by her tenacity—after all, surviving injuries like these was nothing short of a miracle. Yet, even with her survival instincts intact, her body was recovering at a slow pace, leaving him with no choice but to take on the role of caretaker for the time being.
It was during this intimate act of tending to her wounds that Unknown's attention was drawn to a faint, star-shaped birthmark on her hip.
It was partially obscured by the injuries she'd sustained, but still visible enough for him to take note.
'This birthmark...'
He lingered on the thought, a fleeting curiosity blossoming within him. 'Could it have any significance? Is it a symbol, a mark of lineage, or something more?'
He thought to touch it.
But just as quickly as the thought had come, Alice's sharp voice cut through the air, disrupting his focus.
"Pervert~"
His gaze snapped up to meet her eyes for a split second, but he quickly turned away, aware of the discomfort she was feeling.
She had already been trying hard not to resist his touch, but his unblinking attention to the mark on her hip had clearly crossed a line.
She shifted uncomfortably beneath the cloth he was working with, but Unknown remained stoic, his features frozen in that familiar, emotionless mask. His response came without pause, as flat as always.
"Yeah, whatever."
There was no malice in his tone, only resignation. It was easier this way—no need to justify his actions or explain himself. It wasn't as if she would understand.
With the bandages finished and her injuries properly attended to, he moved swiftly to complete the task. Wrapping her in a clean cloth, he finished the last step with efficiency.
Standing up, he moved a few steps back, his own breath a slow exhale of relief. The task had been difficult, though in a way, more mentally draining than physically demanding.
There was something about caring for someone else that was far more taxing than the familiar rhythm of combat and survival.
'Taking care of someone else is even more stressful than fighting,' Unknown mused inwardly.
The physical exhaustion of battle could be healed with rest, but taking care of someone else—someone else who was so vulnerable, so fragile at this moment—was a responsibility that felt heavier than any sword he had ever wielded.
Despite the fatigue, there was something strangely satisfying about it. A sense of purpose, however brief. A feeling that, for once, he wasn't just surviving—he was actively doing something to help, to care for someone else.
But that satisfaction was fleeting. It didn't last long, and Unknown quickly dismissed the thought, focusing on the cold, relentless practicality of the situation.
Survival was the key, and he needed to keep moving forward.
His gaze shifted to Alice, now wrapped in the clean cloth, her pale skin glowing faintly in the light of the fire.
She lay there, her body trembling from exhaustion, her breathing shallow as she slowly drifted toward sleep.
Her eyes fluttered closed, though a faint line of tension remained on her face—she was still haunted by the weight of her experiences and couldn't sleep.
As she lay there, unknown to her, Unknown found himself observing her more than he intended.
Despite his usual indifference, something about the vulnerability of her situation—something about her struggle to stay afloat in a world that seemed intent on drowning her—struck a chord within him.
For a brief moment, Unknown allowed himself to soften. Not in any way that would be noticeable to anyone but himself, but for a moment, he wasn't just the detached, cold figure that he had chosen to be.
There was something else beneath the surface, something he couldn't name.
But just as quickly as it came, the feeling was gone. The familiar weight of detachment settled back into place.
"Good job, Master. Now you're officially a real pervert."
The teasing voice of Eclipse echoed in Unknown's mind, filled with playful mockery, yet carrying an underlying hint of jealousy.
The words felt strange in his mind, as if his very actions were being scrutinized by a part of himself he couldn't entirely control.
"Shut up. If I didn't do it, who would?"
Unknown responded internally, the words sharp but honest. There was no one else here, and Alice couldn't care for herself in her current state.
Eclipse's voice came again, this time with a more practical suggestion.
"You know, you could have lured someone else here to take care of her."
"Too risky. I don't know where they are, and besides, you can't bring an injured person into battle."
"Just wait until she can move and then decide what to do."
The conversation with Eclipse continued, but Unknown's thoughts kept drifting. He couldn't quite understand why he was feeling so attached to the task of caring for Alice.
It was practical, yes, but it also felt… different. Eclipse's incredulity was almost real, and Unknown was, for once, unable to provide a convincing rebuttal.
"It's strange to see you caring for someone else."
"Maybe so."
Unknown's mind wandered as he recalled a hazy memory. A long-lost one, a warm and gentle recollection from a time when he was not so cold, not so distant. It was a strange feeling, one that stirred something buried deep within him—a moment of kindness, of care, that he had long ago forgotten.
In the sea of memories he had forgotten, that particular one was the only one he couldn't bring himself to lose.
The moment was fleeting, but it was there, enough to make him pause. Enough to make him question the path he had chosen to walk.
"Leonore, hey, I need your help for a moment."
Alice's voice cut through his thoughts, snapping him back to the present. He quickly set aside his internal conversation with Eclipse and turned his attention to her.
"What's wrong? Did I wrap the bandages too tight?" he asked, already moving closer, concerned for her comfort.
"No, I just want you to help me sit up. Lying down for too long hurts."
"Alright."
With a quiet, almost imperceptible sigh, Unknown moved to her side. He gently helped Alice into a sitting position, careful not to cause her any unnecessary pain.
Her body was still fragile, her muscles weak, but she trusted him to guide her as she leaned slightly against his shoulder for support.
The moment lingered for a second longer than either of them had expected, the silence between them deep but not uncomfortable. There was an odd calmness in it, despite the strange circumstances.
It was as if the simple act of helping her sit up had softened the distance between them, if only for a moment.
Unknown didn't speak. He didn't need to. As he adjusted her position, his eyes lingered on her for a fraction of a second, noting the exhaustion in her features, the lingering pain, but also a certain resilience that wouldn't easily break.
"Thank you," Alice murmured softly, her voice weak but sincere. It was the first time she had thanked him without a trace of sarcasm or discomfort.
Unknown simply nodded, his face unreadable. He wasn't sure what to make of her gratitude, but it settled in his chest, a strange warmth he quickly dismissed.
He had no need for thanks—only for results.
Alice thanked him, though that wasn't the true reason she had asked for his help. She had been trying to find a way to start a conversation, hoping to understand more about the mysterious young man before her.
She wasn't sure why, but something about him intrigued her—his aloofness, his coldness, the way he seemed to hide so much behind that unreadable face.
"By the way, what did you come here for?" Alice asked as she shifted slightly, her voice breaking the silence between them. Her tone was casual, but she was watching him carefully, trying to gauge his reaction.
Unknown, who had been sitting beside her, looked into her eyes with his usual unreadable expression. His gaze was intense, but not warm. His face remained largely impassive, not giving away anything that might suggest he was bothered by the question.
Instead, he leaned slightly back, as if to suggest that the question was not as significant as she thought.
"Guess," he responded flatly, his voice steady, not betraying any hint of amusement or frustration.
Alice let out an exaggerated sigh, puffing her cheeks in mock annoyance. She was starting to realize that he wasn't going to make it easy for her.
"Hey, don't turn the question back on me!" she shot back, a little irritated, though she tried to hide it behind a playful tone. It was as if Unknown enjoyed watching her try to dig deeper into his mystery.
"Try giving me a reason first," he said, his voice devoid of warmth. There was no challenge in his words, just a statement, an expectation that she should figure it out herself.
Alice raised an eyebrow, her frustration mounting. "Oh, so I'm the one who has to guess now? Fine. Let's see…" She paused for a moment, mulling over the possibilities.
"Did the Darknight Order send you here to collect the sword?"
Unknown didn't immediately respond. He simply shifted slightly, glancing at her for a moment before shaking his head. There was no amusement or irritation in his eyes—just a quiet indifference that made Alice feel like she was missing something.
She frowned, feeling her guess fall flat.
"Do I look like the kind of person who follows orders from others?" he asked, his tone almost dry, as if he found the suggestion somewhat amusing.
But there was no smile, no softness to his words, just a flat, matter-of-fact delivery.
Alice blinked, surprised. She quickly shook her head. "No, I guess not." She had been wrong again.
It seemed like he didn't have the kind of personality that would follow anyone's orders—not even for something like a mission. But that only left her with more questions.
"So, is it for personal reasons?" she asked cautiously, her voice filled with hesitation. She wasn't sure what else to ask, but this seemed as likely an explanation as any.
Unknown once again shook his head, a small, imperceptible movement. He didn't need to say anything more—his response spoke volumes. Alice was growing increasingly frustrated, unsure of what she was supposed to believe.
The silence between them stretched on as Unknown fell into a brief, contemplative silence. Alice could feel the weight of his indistinct gaze, but she knew from experience that trying to get him to open up would be a futile task.
After a few moments, he spoke again, his voice low and seemingly uninterested. "I simply had bad luck and ended up here." His words were carefully delivered, each one devoid of any emotional weight, as if they didn't matter much at all.
Alice looked at him, her eyes narrowing in disbelief. She had heard many strange stories in her life, but this one was particularly hard to swallow.
'Bad luck?' Could something as random as that really be true? It sounded almost too convenient, like a way to avoid giving her a real answer.
She squinted at him, studying his expression closely, trying to read his intentions. But his face remained as stoic and indifferent as ever, not giving away a single clue.
"…An unbelievable story…" she murmured, her voice filled with skepticism. She wasn't sure whether to believe him or not, but she wasn't ready to accept this flimsy explanation either.
It felt like something was being left out, something important.
Unknown turned his head slightly, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he met her gaze. "Believe it or not, it's the truth," he said, his voice still flat, but with a faint edge to it that suggested he wasn't going to offer anything more.
Alice huffed, clearly frustrated but resigned. She wasn't sure if she should press him further or drop the subject entirely. It seemed like he was content to leave things vague, letting her stew in the mystery of who he really was.
"So, let's say you manage to get out of here, what would you do?" Alice asked, her curiosity pushing her to delve deeper into Unknown's mind. She was trying to piece together the enigma of the boy sitting beside her.
Unknown had pondered that very question countless times before, though the answer always eluded him.
Even now, when faced with the inquiry, he found himself grasping at an empty, uncertain future.
Who was he really?
Had he failed as a reincarnation of the hero everyone had hoped for, or perhaps he had been that hero all along—just trying to escape the responsibilities that came with such a burden?
Or was he simply a lost soul, drifting in delusion, unable to find meaning?
The truth was, he didn't know. And that uncertainty gnawed at him, as it had for years. But when he thought about it, one thing remained clear:
His future didn't depend on finding the answers to those questions.
"I would make myself happy," he said quietly, the simplicity of the answer surprising even him.
It wasn't much of a plan, not a grand ambition, but it was all he could come up with.
It wasn't about saving the world or fulfilling some greater purpose—it was just about his own peace of mind, something he had been unable to attain for so long.
"...Happy..." Alice echoed, the word lingering in the air between them. She stared at him, processing the simplicity of the response.
It wasn't the answer she had expected from someone like him, someone so detached and cold. It was almost... human.
She found herself lost in thought for a moment, pondering the idea of happiness in such a stark world.
Her mind briefly wandered, but she snapped herself out of it as she refocused on the conversation.
"Now, here's my question..." Unknown said, shifting the conversation back to Alice. "Alice, let's say you save your country, what would you do?"
His voice was steady, the question direct. In some ways, it mirrored the one he had asked himself so many times, and now it was her turn to respond.
Alice paused, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. She tapped her cheek and tilted her head slightly as she tried to find the right words.
Unknown watched her, somewhat distracted by how even in such a serious moment, she could exude an almost childlike charm.
Despite her combat skills and the weight of her past, there was an innocence in the way she thought.
"Um... I'm not sure…" she admitted, her brows furrowed slightly in confusion. It wasn't a decisive answer, but it was honest.
She didn't know what she'd do once her country was saved, because everything had always been about saving it first, not what would come after.
She could picture herself feeling fulfilled, but in the quiet moments after the battle, she found herself unsure.
"If I were to resolve the disaster, I think everyone around me would be happy," she said thoughtfully, her voice softer now, tinged with a kind of wistfulness.
"If that happened, I'd be happy too. And that would be enough for me."
Unknown listened, his gaze steady but contemplative. There was a simplicity in her answer too, a purity in her desire to see others happy.
It wasn't about personal gain for her—it was about others. And that, he thought, was something rare.
"…Maybe, I'd seek the truth about my parents' death..." Alice continued, the words quieter now. The air between them grew heavier as she spoke, a layer of sadness creeping into her voice.
It was clear that despite her outward strength, there was something unresolved within her—a question that had haunted her for years.
"…"
Unknown's words hung in the air as he shared his perspective, his voice calm and unwavering. Alice's brow furrowed slightly, caught off guard by the unexpected advice.
"I don't think you should do that," he said, his gaze steady and impassive.
Alice looked at him, clearly surprised. She had expected him to be indifferent to her thoughts, but never had she imagined he would actively oppose her desire to uncover the truth.
"Why do you think that?" Alice asked, her voice carrying a hint of disbelief.
She had thought someone like him—someone who had seemingly abandoned all ties to the world—would understand her quest for answers.
"Sometimes, there are things we shouldn't know," Unknown replied, his tone calm yet firm. "Knowing them only weighs us down, drowns us in sorrow and hatred."
Alice was silent for a moment, processing his words. It wasn't what she had expected to hear from him, but there was a certain weight to his statement that lingered in the air.
"I see, so that's how you think..." she murmured, tilting her head slightly, her eyes thoughtful.
She hadn't anticipated such a perspective, especially from someone who appeared to be so detached from emotions and attachments.
"Interesting," she added, her voice soft, more to herself than to him.
Unknown nodded, accepting her response. "Yes, a fool can find happiness, even if it's a lie."
He said, his voice remaining level. "When we don't know that happiness is a lie, it becomes our truth. And once we know the truth, that false world shatters. At that point, we have to rebuild a new world based on the truth. It will be a long and difficult process."
The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, but Alice didn't immediately respond. She understood what he was saying, but something about it felt incomplete to her—too simplistic.
But that was his view, and she couldn't dismiss it outright.
"You really are a strange guy..." Alice said with a small smile, shaking her head. She had encountered many people in her life, but someone like him—so indifferent yet so insightful—was unlike anyone she had known.
His perspective was different, and while she didn't entirely agree with it, she found herself intrigued by the way he saw the world.
"…I'll admit that," he said, a slight nod accompanying his acknowledgment. He didn't take offense to her words—he knew she was just expressing the confusion he often caused in others.
"By the way, don't take my words too seriously," Unknown added after a brief pause, his tone softening just a little. "Just do what you think is right."
He glanced at her, noticing how she had listened without judgment, without pushing back too hard. She had taken his perspective into account, not because she agreed with it, but because she had respected it. That was enough for him.
"Thanks for listening," he said, a rare hint of appreciation in his voice. "That's all I really wanted."
Alice met his gaze, her expression gentle. "I'll keep it in mind," she said softly.
And despite their differing views, she felt a strange sense of understanding between them. There was comfort in their conversation, even if it didn't provide any clear answers.
They were just two people trying to make sense of a world that often didn't make sense at all.
'Maybe, he is not so cold after all...' The thought lingered in Alice's mind as she looked at him, something she hadn't allowed herself to entertain before.
In that brief moment, she saw something different in his eyes—something that wasn't cold or detached. It was… contentment? Could he really feel something, even if just for a fleeting second?
"You look happy," she said, her voice almost surprised, as if she had caught him off guard.
"Yeah, definitely." Unknown's response was casual, almost nonchalant, but there was a certain warmth in his tone that made Alice pause. For the first time, she saw him in a way she hadn't before.
"Is it fun being with me, Alice?" The question caught her off guard, her face flushing immediately. She hadn't expected that kind of honesty from him, especially not after everything.
"What do you mean by that?!" she stammered, flustered and clearly thrown off by his straightforwardness.
"Exactly what you think," he replied with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Her face reddened even more at his teasing, and in that moment, she puffed her cheeks like a little squirrel, clearly trying to hold her ground but failing miserably. Her reaction only made Unknown smile more.
"Are you teasing me?!" she demanded, her voice tinged with embarrassment.
"Hey, I'm not a kid," she muttered, trying to keep her composure but failing as the heat on her cheeks intensified.
Unknown, however, remained silent. Instead, he gently pinched her chubby cheeks, a gesture that surprised her.
There was something about it—something tender—that made her feel oddly at ease. The warmth of the gesture, paired with his quiet smile, had an unexpected effect on her.
For a brief moment, she forgot about everything—the pain, the betrayal, the doubts. It was just the two of them, sitting there, sharing a quiet, simple moment.
'He's really not as bad as I thought...' Alice thought, her mind finally starting to reconcile the person sitting in front of her with the cold, indifferent figure she had initially encountered. 'He's not as indifferent as I assumed. He's just trying to protect himself...'
'Idiot,' she thought, her heart sinking a little as the realization settled in. 'You're being nice to an enemy. Not only did you save me, but you're also trying to make me feel better.'
She couldn't understand it. She didn't know if this was just a momentary lapse in his character, or if there was something deeper, something she couldn't yet grasp.
'Why are you doing this?' The question echoed in her mind, unanswered. Was this some kind of manipulation? Or was there something more genuine behind his actions?
'Is this to make the ending later even more painful?'
The thought was sharp, a sudden reminder of the uncertainty of their future.
But for now, she allowed herself to be reassured by his presence. For the first time, she wasn't alone.
Even if she didn't fully understand why, she felt a strange comfort in knowing he was there. And for now, that was enough.