The commander of the Society of Holy Fla, Verion Heinz.
The boy’s gaze was locked onto him.
The man stood against a crimson sky and blazing firelight. His head, sitting crookedly on his shoulders, swayed in satisfaction, as though he were savoring the greatest pleasure imaginable.
The very man who had abducted Dominic from his ho village...
The one who had carried out his “initial training” before the boy was sent to Audrey House.
“Do you li-love playing with marbles?”
Before his eyes rose the face laughing at the eyeballs that had rolled out of his childhood friend’s head.
The voice that had casually promised to return them to their owner if Dominic won the ga.
The boy had been forced to flick the still-wet crystal spheres with his fingers.
Even now, the sensation of blood vessels thudding dully against the floor remained vivid.
Yes, that was how it had been.
The mont ten-year-old Dominic disobeyed, punishnt followed.
The neighbors from the woodcutter’s village who had cared for him, an orphan, t horrifying ends.
It continued like that until it beca clear that his potential exceeded all reason.
Before sending him to Audrey House, Verion had tried to raise Dominic as his successor for the post of commander of the Society, endlessly continuing that “education.”
“Why are you so si-silent?”
Verion smirked, tilting his head even farther.
“It seems you are not ha-happy to see us after all this ti.”
That look.
Those reptilian blinking eyes.
Dominic’s breathing faltered.
His chest tightened.
It felt as if the air could no longer reach his lungs.
No matter how many tis he had sworn to break through any threat and save the children, his resolve was visibly lting away.
“...I, I.”
anwhile, the children looked around in confusion.
“What’s happening?”
The people surrounding them were clearly dressed in robes.
That ant they were allies who had co to help.
And yet the atmosphere was suffocating.
Amid the burning reeds, the silhouettes stood perfectly still.
They neither approached nor retreated.
They simply watched in silence.
But the worst part was Dominic’s fear—Dominic, who was always calm and dependable.
The children had never seen him like this.
He was the oldest, their pillar and their compass.
And precisely because of that, the older children began to act on their own.
They hugged the smaller ones riding on their backs more tightly and slowly backed away, covering one another.
Without any command, moved by a single shared instinct.
They felt it.
These people were different.
Fundantally different from the teachers of Audrey House, who at least maintained the appearance of warmth.
These creatures were weighing them.
Judging whether they were future candidates for Magnificence—or heretics who had dared to flee.
Rem was the fastest to understand.
Horror spread across her face.
“B-brother. What do we do?”
At the touch of the small hand cautiously tugging at his sleeve, Dominic finally ca back to himself.
“...Rem.”
He was smart.
He understood perfectly well what the best choice was now.
To use the power he had honed over the past years to buy ti.
And in that ti, entrust the children to Rem and send them to the rendezvous point.
It was possible.
“But...”
What if the price of that reckless resistance beca the children once again?
Even if they were candidates for Magnificence, the mont they were judged “unreliable,” none of them would survive.
Sothing horrible awaited them...
Sothing irreversible.
Dominic looked down at his trembling hands.
“You are still so ki-kind.”
“......”
“Didn’t I teach you that in monts like this, you must make the most efficient choice?”
Against the backdrop of burning reeds, Verion slowly extended his hand.
“Co here.”
Dominic involuntarily took a step forward.
As Verion’s shadow drew closer, the exhilaration and excitent he had felt while escaping the orphanage suddenly seed like lies.
Beco a hero?
Beco a light in the darkness like Teacher Raymond?
Nonsense.
All that remained inside him was primal terror.
He was far more broken than he had ever realized.
No.
That wasn’t right.
He had to be honest.
Verion Heinz.
The man who had been branded a devil since birth and proved his faith by personally beheading his own twin brother.
It was terrifying to stand against him.
Terrifying that the children might get hurt.
But the deepest nightmare lay elsewhere.
He was afraid of being left alone with them.
Afraid of the violence that would descend upon his body and mind.
Afraid of the brainwashing that would erase his soul piece by piece until nothing remained.
Afraid of the predetermined future where he would beco nothing more than a tool in the hands of these vile beings.
That fear was so tangible that Dominic’s body shook with feverish tremors.
“......”
And yet... fear was not the only thing growing in his heart.
“Chivalry is a vow to refuse the choice that defiles who you are.”
“Dominic, you will beco a hero. That future absolutely awaits you.”
Dominic extended his hand.
But not toward Verion.
Toward the weaklings behind him, who had not lived even a single day of their own lives.
“Go.”
He shoved Rem hard in the back.
And using that montum, pushing the fragile girl away, Dominic stepped toward the enemy.
Yes, fear was still visible on the boy’s face.
But it was not the only thing there.
“Go and live.”
.
.
.
And ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) imdiately after that ca a sound no one had expected.
“Waaahhhhh!”
The desperate cry of a child.
Clap!
Sothing cut through space and dropped itself between Dominic and Verion.
It took Dominic a mont to recognize the person.
His body was mangled.
Blood, pus, and soot were so mixed together that flesh could no longer be distinguished from clothing.
One arm had been torn out from the shoulder.
A whistle escaped from his punctured lungs.
“Tea... cher.”
But against that horrifying appearance, the bundle tied securely to his broad back remained impossibly clean.
There was not a single scratch on the infant’s face.
Dominic stared in shock at Zenon as he was handed over to him.
Then he raised his eyes and saw the black pupils fixed on him, within them a blinding light flickering.
A fla born in the thickest night.
“Go, Dominic.”
The sa words, but spoken in a far firr voice.
“Go and live.”
***
Gunther shifted his gaze from the retreating children to the enemy.
Verion was looking at him with a strange expression.
Surprisingly, there was sothing almost human in those eyes.
“Raymond. Everyone believed you would beco a great priest.”
“......”
“Ever since seminary school. Your grades, the gods’ favor... people’s expectations. Ha-ha, to et you in this state is true sorrow.”
Was there so old grudge between them?
Despite his words, Verion’s mouth stretched into a smile, as if he could finally quench a long-held thirst for superiority.
But Gunther let it pass by unheard.
Feelings did not matter right now.
Gunther’s gaze turned heavy.
He had completely solidified his decision.
This was a gamble with zero odds.
Against him stood Verion Heinz.
Commander of the Society of Holy Fla.
The man who had burned Ryan’s holand.
The one strong enough to eliminate the previous leader.
And that was not all.
Around them stood dozens of his subordinates.
With his current wounds, there was no way Gunther could hold out.
He would not last long.
The enemy understood that too, which was why they had not hurried after the children.
[Stupid choice. You understand that yourself, don’t you?]
“......”
[You already knew what would have been better.]
Yes.
The Dark Night Vanguard was right.
The conditions for clearing this hidden phase were clear.
One of them was “the children’s escape.”
This was the past.
The mont Resia broke free from the cult’s grasp, the very cause of her indoctrination session would vanish.
There was no way to know how the paradox would resolve, but at the very least Gunther would not die here from ntal exhaustion.
He had already realized the optimal solution back in the burning reeds.
“Leave Dominic to fight, and personally escort the children to the rendezvous point.”
That had been the best answer.
Or simply escape alone.
“I should have chosen that option the mont Audrey exposed .”
That was probably why Raymond had lost in the original history.
Escape was rational.
Even if Dominic and the children were captured... the future Gunther knew would simply proceed as it always had.
It would not beco worse.
By now, the comrades outside should already have begun moving.
If luck was on his side, he would simply respawn at the save point.
His chance of survival would have been far higher.
Options and calculations flooded his mind in waves.
Yes, he knew.
He would almost certainly die.
Gunther could feel that future.
But he stayed here.
Because he knew what the “truly best choice” was.
If he could save Dominic...
If he could return the true protagonist of this world to his rightful place...
The result would be hundreds of tis better than any attempt Gunther himself could make struggling in the future.
He could see it clearly.
If Dominic stood where he belonged, every tragedy his loved ones were ant to suffer would simply vanish.
Gunther knew this better than anyone.
He was a veteran of the ga.
At the decisive mont, he once again made the wrong calculation in favor of his heart.
“Attack.”
He stood face to face with death.
A feeling he had long since forgotten.
Death here was final—Return After Death did not work in the past.
His heart pounded.
Fear filled the emptiness in his head.
But—
[Are you really just going to lie down and die like a dog?]
“...Of course not.”
Gunther raised his single fist.
His comrades fought this feeling every day.
He could not betray them and surrender.
“It’s not over yet.”
Gunther had always searched for the sliver of chance hidden in the worst situation.
If he could endure until the children reached the rendezvous point, the changes in the future might still save him.
Wasn’t the stage called “Butterfly Effect”?
Bam!
Gunther lunged forward.
Pouring all his weight and will into his one remaining strike.
...The quiet sound of footsteps behind him ca a mont later.
“Teacher.”
Amid blades and fire, Gunther closed his eyes.
He admitted that every calculation had failed.
But if asked whether he had expected this outco...
He would admit that this was exactly what he had been waiting for.
“I ca to make the choice that does not defile .”
Then this, too, must be fate.
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