Knock knock.
"It's Aden. May I come in, Chairman?"
"Come in."
I knocked on the door of the Academy Chairman's office and heard Eris's immediate reply, so I opened it.
The door slid open.
As I stepped inside, I saw Eris and Elina.
They must have talked already.
I could clearly tell that the way Elina looked at me had changed since I entered the Chairman's office.
Her once emotionless eyes now held traces of pity, sympathy, and a sense of kinship.
"Sit down here. By the way, what are that book and sword?"
The Chairman gestured for me to sit and asked about the tome and sword in my hands—Camillas's relics.
"I brought them after class ended. Have you already told her?"
No need to go into details.
I wasn't sure if the Chairman and Sword Saint Camillas knew each other,
but there seemed no point in dredging up tales from 500 years ago, so I glossed over the origins of the sword and tome, changing the subject instead.
"I told her. No need to drag it out. You sit too, Elina. Let's finish that story from last time."
I brushed past the book and sword,
and the Chairman seemed uninterested in pressing further, accepting my deflection with a nod.
I took a seat as she continued.
"It's not long since classes ended, but here we are already, Professor."
"Indeed, Aden. We meet again so soon."
Elina's eyes flickered with uncertainty as she replied,
as if she still didn't know how to treat me.
"Let's pick up where we left off. The academy's collapse, the world's end—what exactly happens? How many times have you looped through this?"
"The world's... destruction...?"
Elina visibly recoiled at the Chairman's words.
The world's destruction.
In this peaceful atmosphere, it was utterly unimaginable,
which made this moment crucial.
I couldn't reveal the future in detail.
I had to broadly explain my experience of repeating the game countless times, the crises yet to come—
ensuring they wouldn't dismiss my words,
that they'd become allies to aid me.
"Yes. Without exception, the world ended every single time."
"Why...? There are plenty of powerhouses who could stop any threat! It can't fall that easily...!"
"Elina. Calm down."
The world's destruction.
Hearing that, Elina bolted up, shouting in agitation.
It was only natural.
No one could hear their world was doomed without flinching.
But it was the truth.
Of course, the world had many who could fend off crises.
Yet Ixion, Bahamut, the evil gods, regional collapses, and even the Evil that Swallowed God would prove too much even for them.
"Sorry... I got worked up."
Reined in by the Chairman, Elina sat back down with an apology.
"It's fine. I understand completely."
"Aden. Is there a way to stop it?"
A way to avert the world's end.
Defeat Ixion, the evil gods, even the Evil that Swallowed God. Prevent the regional collapses.
Easier said than done.
Every boss in Frontier Chronicles was brutally tough.
And this was reality, not a game.
No guarantee crises would come one by one; I needed many allies and thorough preparation.
"It's possible. Absolutely."
Not impossible.
The bosses, the collapses—
Unlike the game, no do-overs on failure...
"We'll make it happen."
We will succeed.
I had no certainty.
I wasn't a true regressor; failure meant the end.
Fear of failure gnawed at me; the future terrified me.
But fearing and fleeing failure changed nothing.
An uncertain future,
where failure or success hung in balance...
"Who challenges anything while planning to fail?"
Starting with defeat in mind was sheer idiocy.
"That's why we'll succeed."
This single chance demanded I think only of victory.
No certainty,
but confidence? Yes.
"I've done it dozens of times already."
In the game, dozens upon dozens.
I would triumph.
Save who I could,
protect what I could.
"You... what..."
"How many... times..."
As I finished, Eris and Elina stared at me, dumbfounded and silent.
Seeing their faces snapped me out of my immersion, embarrassment flooding in.
What was that... straight out of a chuunibyou script?
They asked how to stop destruction,
yet I'd gotten too deep and spat empty "We'll do it!" bravado.
"Ahem! Anyway, stopping it is definitely possible. I did it in my last run."
Shaking off the shame, I pressed on.
Last run—clearing the hidden achievement.
I'd beaten hidden bosses more, but no need to mention.
A regressor averting doom multiple times yet returning? Suspicious.
So, only the achievement clear.
"Well, not exactly averted..."
To claim that achievement, I shattered everything solo, then felled the hidden boss.
"What do you mean?"
"In my last run, I killed the destruction."
To convince the Chairman's truth-seeing eyes I was a regressor,
to make them grasp the future's gravity,
I said I killed the end.
With everything broken and dead, "averted" didn't fit—
that was my claim.
"Killed it?"
"After everything shattered and died, so I can't call it averted."
I answered Elina's question.
"The truth..."
Eris spoke in a trembling voice.
Her dragon eyes glowed.
— "Humans' mana trembles when they lie."
— "So don't spout falsehoods lightly in my office."
Game cutscene on first entering her office.
Dragons shape mana into sight.
Her eyes discerned truth from lie at every word.
"But I caught it. So it's not impossible."
I met their gazes squarely.
This was reality.
"Please help stop the destruction. I beg you."
One chance only.
Averting doom needed everyone's aid.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"Haa..."
In the Academy Chairman's office.
'I'm not asking for an answer right now. Take your time.'
Eris sighed, recalling Aden's parting words as he left.
Elina spoke up beside her, face grave.
"He seems to have looped far more than we thought..."
Yes... perhaps she'd underestimated regression, underestimated destruction.
What an idiot...
Without experiencing it,
she'd taken doom lightly.
'Who challenges anything while planning to fail?'
Aden... how many loops now?
A boy worn beyond imagining,
yet with unyielding will, never entertaining failure.
'That's why we'll succeed.'
He hadn't abandoned hope of stopping it,
pressing on solely to avert doom,
ultimately finding that possibility.
'After everything shattered and died, so I can't call it averted.'
He'd slain destruction in the end,
returning to save all, everyone.
So resilient...
'Stop the nightmare... please... Eri...s.'
A will unbroken despite none remembering,
his steadfast form overlapping someone in her memories.
The grand mage who'd sealed the nightmare 500 years ago, sacrificing herself—now remembered only by her.
Ah...
She no longer took it lightly,
no longer underestimated doom.
But she vowed firmly.
Wishing Aden no more pain,
no more sacrifices.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The door slid open.
Leaving the Chairman's office,
Elina followed the boy who'd just departed.
'I'm not asking for an answer right now. Take your time.'
To deliver her already-decided answer.
"Haa..."
A heavy sigh escaped amid the weight of his tale.
Elina.
She'd fought on battlefields for years.
Countless battles,
countless bonds lost.
At 16, awakening mana alone, hailed a genius, conscripted young into war.
Minimal training, thrust into combat,
relying on a single sword through endless fights.
War with beasts was agony no 16-year-old girl should bear.
Slicing their flesh was horrific,
watching comrades—bonds formed in words—die devoured her.
So at some point, she avoided talk.
No more deaths of those she grew fond of;
she shunned bonds, spoke minimally.
Suppressed emotions.
Unshaken by trifles,
acting solely to survive utterly.
Even after war's end,
praised as Mercenary King,
ennobled as countess, professor at the academy—
it had become habit,
so she kept avoiding bonds, emotions aside.
Then she saw him.
A boy with eyes emptier than hers, perhaps—
15, yet radiating greater killing intent,
Academy freshman Aden.
From the start, he exuded otherworldly presence.
Impossible for his age,
carrying alien qualities.
Now she knew: more battle-worn than her, a regressor who'd lost beyond count.
Yet his eyes held no surrender.
Through endless loops, still fighting to save the world.
Why...?
He hadn't suppressed emotions.
Didn't shun bonds.
Despite worse horrors than hers, he'd sought our aid without hesitation.
'Who challenges anything while planning to fail?'
Ah...
She got it.
His eyes never saw failure,
unlike her, fleeing loss in fear—
he never planned to lose.
Even if he broke,
he wanted to protect everyone.
A radiant, shining soul...
Steeled through worse than her,
unlike her who fled bonds in fear.
That's why he worried her so.
Battlefield veteran, she knew.
No one unbreakable.
No matter the will, all shatter eventually.
Yet...
I hope he doesn't break.
He shone brighter than any she'd seen,
so she wished he'd endure.
That light not extinguish.
That's why...
She'd aid him against doom.
So he despaired no more,
that light unbroken.
Elina's emotionless eyes, long vacant, now burned with deep feeling as she followed.
This was a new goal for the girl once broken by despair.