The morning sun crept through the heavy curtains, painting the wooden floor in pale gold. I sat in the wooden chair beside Alisa's bed, my hands resting on my knees.
My heart felt completely hollow.
Elian stood quietly near the window. He didn't speak. He just let the silence settle over the room, giving me time to process the terrible truth. Alisa was breathing softly, a gentle flush on her cheeks, but we both knew it was just the soul's final, desperate illusion.
I took a deep, shaky breath. I needed to calm down. If I stayed in this room, watching her chest rise and fall, I was going to lose my mind.
I slowly stood up. I gave Alisa one last look, then turned and walked out the door.
The moment I stepped into the hallway, a figure appeared from the shadows near the corner. It was Sebastian, the old butler. His uniform was perfectly pressed, and his face was calm, though his eyes carried a deep sadness.
"Good morning, young master Leo,"
Sebastian greeted, his voice a smooth, polite hum.
"Morning, Sebastian,"
I muttered, starting to walk down the long, empty corridor.
Sebastian fell into step beside me. We walked in comfortable silence for a moment before the old butler spoke again.
"You did a very great job, Leo,"
Sebastian said softly.
"You crossed the continent. You faced the fire. You returned to her side. You should not blame yourself so harshly. The heavens often have their own plans, regardless of our efforts."
I looked at the floor as we walked.
"I came back empty-handed, Sebastian. That's not a great job."
"You came back,"
The butler corrected gently.
"For my lady, I believe that was the only thing that truly mattered."
We left the Manor and walked out toward the back of the estate. The capital was massive, but the Duke's property extended all the way to the city walls. Beyond the stone gates lay a huge, sprawling garden.
It was breathtaking. Even in the winter chill, magic kept the open fields vibrant. Rolling green grass stretched out, dotted with massive beds of blooming flowers in every color imaginable. There were small stone paths, a quiet pond, and ancient trees swaying in the morning breeze.
I stopped in the middle of the garden, the cold wind brushing my face.
"This looks beautiful,"
I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.
"And it looks so peaceful here."
Sebastian stood beside me, his hands clasped neatly behind his back.
"It is,"
Sebastian agreed.
"The young miss loves being here. Ever since she was a little girl, she would spend her afternoons walking these paths. Although she was always alone... she was truly happy whenever she was in this garden."
He paused, his eyes softening.
"I really hope she gets to spend more time with you here, Leo."
I let out a dry, bitter chuckle.
"Hope..."
I muttered, looking out at the endless sea of flowers.
"Yeah, right."
Sebastian didn't turn his head, but from the corner of my eye, I saw his gaze shift to me. He understood. He knew the truth about tomorrow morning just as well as I did.
"What are her favorites?"
I asked suddenly, breaking the heavy silence.
"The flowers, I mean. What flavor of flower does she like the most?"
"Her first favorite is the White Star-Lily,"
Sebastian answered smoothly.
"She says they look like fallen stars. Her second favorite is the Sun-Daisy. She likes how they always face the light."
"White Star-Lily and Sun-Daisy,"
I repeated, committing the names to memory. I offered a small, tired smile.
"I'm happy to hear that."
By noon, the sun was high in the sky, but the warmth couldn't reach my chest. I left the garden and went back inside. I couldn't just sit on the grass and wait for the clock to run out. I had to do something. Anything.
I rushed to the Manor's library.
The library was massive. It spanned three floors, filled with thousands of ancient books, scrolls, and magical tomes. The air smelled of old paper and dust.
My mind raced. Elian was a master healer. He knew almost 98% of all the spells and potions in this world. And even with all that knowledge, he couldn't save her. But what about the other 2%?
There has to be something in that two percent, I thought frantically. A forgotten spell. A forbidden ritual. Something!
I began pulling books off the shelves. I grabbed everything related to souls, curses, and life-force. I slammed them onto a large oak table and started flipping through the pages.
I tried to use my past knowledge. In the original game, these books were popular items. Players used them to unlock hidden classes or rare abilities. But as I stared at the dense, glowing text, panic started to set in.
I didn't know any of it.
Back in the real world, when I played the game, I always skipped the side-quests.
I always skipped the long, boring text boxes that explained the lore and the magic systems. I only cared about the combat and the main story. Now, that laziness was coming back to haunt me. I couldn't remember a single useful detail about soul magic.
"Damn it!"
I hissed, sweeping a stack of books off the table. They hit the floor with a loud thud.
The hours blurred together. Afternoon faded into dusk, and dusk slowly bled into a dark, starless night. The library grew incredibly cold. I sat on the floor, surrounded by open books, my eyes burning and my head throbbing.
"You are reading the pages, but your mind is no longer seeing the words."
I jumped slightly. Elian was standing in the doorway, holding a small silver candle. The warm, flickering light cast long shadows across his wrinkled face. He walked over and gently knelt beside me, picking up one of the fallen books.
"I have to find it, Elian,"
I said, my voice cracking.
"There has to be a loophole. A spell you missed!."
Elian closed the book and set it aside. He looked at me with eyes that had seen centuries of life and death.
"Leo,"
Elian said, his voice slow and incredibly gentle.
"Listen to the trees outside. When the great winds blow, the strongest branches fight the storm. They resist. And because they refuse to bend, they snap and fall."
I stared at him, my hands trembling.
"It is okay to lose a fight, my boy," the old healer continued, placing a warm hand on my shoulder.
"You fought bravely against a fate crafted by the gods themselves. You gave her joy. You gave her a reason to smile even for just for week. But the battle is over now."
Elian's simple words pierced right through my armor. The frantic, desperate energy in my chest suddenly collapsed.
"A true warrior knows when to draw his sword," Elian whispered.
"And he knows when to put it down."
I looked at the piles of books. I looked at my shaking hands. And finally, I let go.
I stopped searching for the two percent. I accepted the ninety-eight. I finally accepted her fate.