Eridius and Kuro sat near a window, watching the Sweepers gathered outside. A small pile of corpses lay nearby.
[Sweeper]: We cannot let you pass.
[Eridius]: But those corpses say otherwise.
[Sweeper]: ...
The Sweeper stared at him.
[Sweeper]: Human husks cannot speak. As far as we know.
[Kuro]: Eridius, I don't think those corpses can speak.
[Eridius]: I meant... I have a proposition. Do you want the bodies or not? All you have to do is let us pass through your territory and leave us alone when we get near your Nest.
[Sweeper]: ...
The Sweepers looked at the corpses, then back at Eridius.
[Sweeper]: Agreed.
[Eridius]: Excellent. It's always nice doing business with reasonable people.
[Kuro]: You just negotiated with Sweepers using dead bodies.
[Eridius]: And they accepted. I'd call that a successful negotiation.
Kuro stared at him for a few seconds before deciding that further discussion would be pointless. She returned to the two soldiers, who had already started a card game.
Eridius, meanwhile, sat down, opened his System, and waited.
It took approximately ten minutes for the interface to stop flickering and stabilize.
[Gacha Rolls: 63]
[Roll ×1] [Roll ×10 {Rate Up}] [Roll ×100 {Guaranteed High-Tier}]
Eridius selected the ten-roll option.
[Congratulations! You have obtained:]
[One Free Ticket]
[Steel Bones Lv.1]
[Stealth Lv.1]
[Cursed Chain of Strength]
[Doctor Lv.1]
[Apple ×4]
[Dark Clock]
[Mask of the Faceless]
[Commander Points: 1000]
Eridius examined the results.
[Eridius]: ...Not bad. At least the System didn't give me ten different varieties of garbage this time.
Suddenly, the interface began to glow.
A brilliant golden light surrounded the final slot. The System's usual flickering ceased, and a new notification appeared.
[LEGENDARY ACQUISITION!]
[Legacy of Eridius, the World's Darling]
The next moment, his surroundings disappeared.
He was no longer sitting beside Kuro and the soldiers.
Instead, he found himself looking at another world.
A world of floating islands, endless skies, and magnificent cities suspended above the clouds.
And there, in one of those cities, was another version of himself.
An orphan.
Unlike Eridius, this version had no system, no mysterious reincarnation, and no one to guide him.
So he made his own family.
He gathered the other orphans beneath him, earning their trust and treating them as brothers and sisters. Before long, he had become their undisputed leader.
At the age of five, he awakened as a Wind Mage without anyone's assistance.
By ten, he had reached the fifth circle of magic and built a city from the ground up, raising its foundations from the earth itself.
At twenty, he had become a dual-element Archmage of Wind and Ice. His city had grown into the wealthiest independent city-state in the world.
Then, in the following year, something unexpected happened.
A group of strangers appeared in his world.
They called themselves Players.
Five years passed.
The young Archmage continued to develop his city, eventually creating a demigod-level artifact known as the Lantern of Hope.
It was an extraordinary achievement.
Unfortunately, it also attracted the attention of an empire.
An empire that coveted his creation.
And one that was willing to wage war to obtain it.
The vision changed.
To a city that was burning.
Flames devoured its magnificent towers, smoke swallowed the sky, and the streets that had once been filled with laughter were now covered in blood.
People ran through the streets, carrying their children, supporting the wounded, and desperately searching for somewhere safe.
Behind them came the Players.
Armed Players.
They chased the fleeing citizens through the burning streets, cutting down anyone who stood in their way. Some laughed. Others shouted about rewards, loot, and achievements.
To them, this was nothing more than a war.
To the people of this city, it was the end of their world.
At the center of the destruction stood the Archmage.
Eridius.
He held the Lantern of Hope in his hands.
He understood that there was no longer any way to save his city through conventional means. The empire had brought too many soldiers, and the Players had made the battlefield an absolute nightmare.
So he made his final decision.
He placed his hand against the Lantern.
And offered it his soul.
[Eridius]: ...Shine.
The Lantern ignited.
Its light spread across the ruined city, illuminating the streets and reaching even the darkest corners. For a moment, the flames seemed to retreat beneath its brilliance.
He turned towards a young man standing nearby.
Mark.
His younger brother in everything but blood. A Space Mage who had followed him since the days when they were nothing more than two starving children living on the streets.
[Eridius]: Mark. Take this.
[Mark]: Brother?
[Eridius]: You're going to lead the evacuation. Use the Lantern to stabilize the space bridge. Get everyone out.
[Mark]: What about you?
[Eridius]: I'll hold them back.
[Mark]: No. Absolutely not. We're leaving together.
[Eridius]: Mark...
Eridius smiled.
[Eridius]: You remember what I told you when we were children?
[Mark]: Don't you dare...
[Eridius]: That no one gets left behind.
He placed a hand on Mark's shoulder.
[Eridius]: I'm keeping that promise.
Before Mark could argue, Eridius raised his staff.
A tremendous magical formation appeared above the city.
[Eridius]: Fifth Grand Spell: Heaven's Shelter.
A colossal shield descended over the evacuation route, covering the fleeing citizens beneath a dome of wind and ice.
The Players and imperial soldiers struck it almost immediately.
The shield trembled.
Eridius held his position.
[Eridius]: Mark! Move!
The Space Mage opened a gigantic bridge, connecting the burning city to a distant sanctuary.
One by one, the citizens began crossing.
The wounded.
The elderly.
The children.
Even the Players who had fought alongside Eridius were dragged towards the portal when they refused to retreat.
Some were immortal. Some could regenerate from almost anything.
It didn't matter.
Eridius personally grabbed several of them and threw them through the portal.
[Eridius]: I DIDN'T BUILD THIS CITY SO YOU COULD DIE IN IT! MOVE!
His shield began to crack.
The magic was consuming him.
First, his hands began to burn. His skin split, and the flesh beneath it blackened as he poured more of his soul into the spell.
Then his eyes.
The light of the Lantern blinded him, but he continued holding the shield.
His ears began bleeding. His body shook, and the once-mighty Archmage could barely remain standing.
Still, he refused to lower his staff.
The imperial soldiers continued attacking.
The Players continued advancing.
And Eridius continued holding the line.
[Mark]: BROTHER! PLEASE! COME BACK!
[Eridius]: JUST KEEP THE BRIDGE OPEN!
Mark was crying.
He wanted to return. He wanted to drag his brother away, even if it meant dying beside him.
But he knew what would happen if he did.
So he kept the bridge open.
And hated himself for every second of it.
Eventually, the evacuation was almost complete.
The shield was barely holding together. Eridius's robes were burned away, and most of his body was covered in terrible wounds.
He could no longer properly see.
He could barely hear.
But he could still feel the magic.
And he could still feel the people who hadn't escaped.
Then he noticed something.
A child.
No older than six, perhaps.
He was holding a newborn baby girl against his chest, desperately trying to shield her from the surrounding flames.
His parents were nowhere to be seen.
And several imperial soldiers were approaching.
The boy was crying, clutching his little sister as tightly as his trembling arms allowed.
[Child]: Please... please don't hurt her...
Eridius stopped.
For a moment, he simply looked at them.
Then he moved.
He abandoned his position and ran.
The shield collapsed behind him.
The remaining Players shouted as the imperial forces surged forward.
Eridius reached the children just as the soldiers surrounded them.
He threw himself between the soldiers and the children, gathering both into his remaining arm.
[Eridius]: Don't be afraid...
His voice was barely audible.
[Eridius]: I've got you.
He turned and ran.
The space bridge was already collapsing. Pieces of the road vanished into the air, and the magic holding it together was rapidly disappearing.
Every step felt like walking through fire.
But he kept going.
At the other end stood Mark.
The Space Mage reached out, tears streaming down his face.
[Mark]: BROTHER!
Eridius finally reached him.
He carefully placed the two children into Mark's arms.
[Eridius]: Take them...
He looked at the newborn.
[Eridius]: Make sure... they get to grow up.
Mark couldn't speak.
He could only stare at his brother.
[Mark]: Come with me. Please. Just come with me!
Eridius tried to answer.
But before he could say anything, an arrow pierced his chest.
The impact threw him backwards.
At the other end of the bridge stood an imperial general, his bow still raised.
The arrow had gone straight through Eridius's heart.
For a moment, everything became quiet.
The general lowered his weapon.
He had expected the Archmage to fall screaming.
He had expected hatred, curses, perhaps one final attempt at revenge.
Instead, Eridius looked towards Mark.
And smiled.
[Eridius]: ...Good.
His legs gave way.
[Mark]: NO!
Mark reached for him, but the bridge was already collapsing.
The last thing Eridius saw was his brother holding the two children, desperately trying to reach him.
Then the space bridge closed.
And the Archmage fell.
The battlefield became silent.
The imperial soldiers stopped advancing.
The Players stopped fighting.
Even the general who had fired the arrow stood motionless.
They looked at the man lying in the ruins.
The man who had built a city from nothing.
The man who had created an artifact capable of changing the fate of the world.
The man who had spent his final moments protecting people who would never be able to repay him.
One of the imperial soldiers approached his body.
He noticed something beneath Eridius's burned hand.
A small wooden toy.
Perhaps something one of the children had given him.
The soldier picked it up.
It was a little wooden bird, crudely carved and painted blue.
On its underside, someone had written a few words.
"For Uncle Eridius. Thank you for giving us a home."
The soldier stared at it.
Then his knees gave way.
[Soldier]: ...What have we done?
Another soldier removed his helmet.
Then another.
The general looked towards the city.
The magnificent towers he had been ordered to conquer were now nothing but burning ruins.
He had won.
He had obtained the city.
He had killed its ruler.
So why did victory suddenly taste like ash?
He looked at the arrow still buried in Eridius's chest.
His hands began to tremble.
[General]: I...
He couldn't finish.
He had killed a man who could have spent his final moments cursing him.
Instead, that man had spent them saving children.
The general fell to his knees.
And for the first time in his military career, he wept.
The Players who had fought beside Eridius gathered around his body.
Some were crying.
Some were screaming.
One of them punched the ground until his hands broke.
Another removed his weapon and threw it away.
They had followed Eridius not because he was the strongest mage in the world, but because he had given them something they had never expected to find in a world they once considered nothing more than a game.
A home.
And now that home was gone.
One of the Players approached the general.
[Player]: You killed him.
The general didn't answer.
[Player]: He saved your soldiers. He saved your people. He even gave your children a chance to live.
The Player's voice trembled.
[Player]: And you killed him.
He looked towards the other Players.
[Player]: We gave him our word.
One by one, they stepped forward.
[Player]: We swore to protect this city.
[Player]: We swore to protect our families.
[Player]: We swore to protect him.
The first Player raised his weapon.
[Player]: Then let the world remember what happens when someone takes our family away.
The others followed.
They swore an oath.
Not for rewards.
Not for experience.
Not for loot.
They swore to hunt down the empire that had destroyed their home.
And they would not stop until every person responsible had answered for what they had done.
The general looked at them.
For the first time, he understood.
His empire had not conquered a city.
It had created an army of people with nothing left to lose.
And somewhere beyond the collapsing skies, the Lantern of Hope kept shining.
But its light had not vanished with its creator.
It had crossed worlds.
And now, that very same Lantern rested in the hands of another Eridius.
Another world. Another life. Another beginning.
[Somewhere in %$%^%%]
A figure watched the distant light of the Lantern.
For a long moment, there was silence.
[???]: Oh, Eridius...
The figure chuckled softly.
[???]: No matter how many times fate rewrites your story, no matter how many worlds you find yourself in...
Their gaze settled upon the Lantern.
[???]: Your kindness always shines so brightly.
A brief pause.
[???]: Like the most beautiful poison. A poison you willingly drink, even knowing it will eventually destroy you.
The figure smiled at Eridius as he held the lamp.
[Chapter End]
[Author's Notes]
[Note 1: The Eridius who became a mage was actually one of the many prototypes I created while developing the character before settling on the version you know today.]
[Note 2: Unfortunately, my condition got better, then worse again. I had to stay home today instead of going to work. Hopefully, I'll recover properly soon.]