Chapter 81: Keeper of Times

On the 37th Day of Forge Moon, Year 1189.

Williem Nightingale died.

His body collapsed, his final breath escaping in a faint, rattling sigh. The hall stood still. For a moment, there was only silence—the kind that suffocates, that weighs on your chest like an omen.

I stared at his corpse with a hollow expression.

That's strange...

I thought killing Williem would have brought me peace...but...

I remained silent, simply staring at the corpse.

I felt no peace...merely, just a strange emptiness.

In that moment, I realized why.

Williem Nightingale...truly meant nothing to me.

My gaze was cold as I watched blood pool around the corpse, soaking it in its scarlet embrace.

The flower growing from his empty eye socket trembled, then began to wilt. A fitting requiem. Without another glance, I turned to walk away when suddenly...

ZWEEENNN!!!

An alien sound ripped through the audience hall—a wretched keening that made the air shudder.

ZWEEENNN!!!

A flood of images, sounds, and emotions crashed into my mind, an unbearable onslaught that sent me crumbling to the floor. My body convulsed violently as blood erupted from my nose, hot and unbidden.

AAGH...UGH!

I let out a groan of pain as I struggled to retain my consciousness.

The mental images didn't stop and didn't obey my will, constantly battering my mind until I suddenly realized.

The...Wailing Bloom...

I feebly raised my head to peer at the broken throne and true to my suspicions; it was indeed the Wailing Bloom.

The blossom, once a delicate adornment, had swelled grotesquely. Its petals, once soft and elegant, now glistened with a sharp, insidious sheen, curling like the edges of a blade. The air around it rippled with an unseen force, pressing down upon us with suffocating weight.

To avenge its fallen master, the beautiful flower had taken on a harrowing change.

"UAKK...!!", I recoiled once again, having been hit by an especially powerful mind attack.

The Wailing Bloom continued, ruthlessly exerting its harrowing influence on both Galter and me.

Gal-

SPLURT!

Blood pooled out of my nose once more, as my mind began to unravel.

I... have to do something...

I thought as I raised a hand towards the heinous blossom, trying to will a beam of light out of my hands when I felt a hand pat my arm.

"Don't... orry...Marta.... I've got this."

I could barely make out his figure through my blurry vision, but I was faintly able to hear his words.

TMP. TMP.

Footsteps.

Slow, deliberate, unfaltering.

Galter strode forward, his presence an unmoving pillar against the storm. While the Wailing Bloom's power tore through me, reducing my body to nothing but pain and blood, he walked forward as if the weight of the world was nothing at all.

ZWEEENNN!!!!!

"URK!!"

The flower's wail swelled in fury, the mental attack multiplying tenfold. I screamed, my thoughts on the verge of annihilation, my very sense of self unraveling—

And then, in the eye of the storm, I heard him.

"------!"

A word.

Not a word.

A sound with a thousand meanings and yet none. A voice that wasn't spoken but felt.

But...

My blurry vision began to clear as I watched the scene before me unfold.

If I were to interpret the meaning of his words...

I would use one word...

Ruin.

ZWEEE-

The Wailing Bloom's horrible scream was suddenly cut off as its body exploded into a rain of shards.

Before vanishing with the wind, leaving behind nothing but silence and a nascent ray of light.

SHEEN!

Sunlight poured through the fractured ceiling, piercing through the fading storm.

The stormy weather had suddenly vanished, letting in the golden rays of sunlight.

W-what...?

I was startled but not because of the tasteful weather or blissful rays of starlight.

Instead, it was because of what was being bathed by it.

"G-Galter?!"

Bathed in starlight was a man whose body could only be described as perfect.

A sculpted back, rippling with muscle. Thick arms, veined like rivers carved through stone. A powerful waist, lean but unyielding. Broad shoulders that carried an unseen weight with ease.

The air around him pulsed—not with magic, but with presence.

Then, he turned.

I forgot how to breathe.

"Marta?"

His voice was gentle now, breaking through my stunned silence.

As he reached up, running a hand through his long, wavy brown hair—

WHOOSH!

A breeze swept through the ruins, rustling his hair... and mine.

My heart throbbed and I swallowed.

"Galter..."

I whispered, unable to look away.

A warm feeling began to rise in my chest, one that I had felt many times but always regarded with uncertainty.

Time itself seemed to slow, the moment stretching infinitely—

Before the world suddenly shattered like a broken mirror.

...

I blinked twice and then looked up.

The world around me was dark.

W-where?

I looked around, raising my hands for clarity in the dark space.

Huh?

I stared at my hands.

I could see them clearly, fair and slender – they weren't obscured by darkness.

In that moment, I realized that the world wasn't dark...it was black.

An endless black.

At that realization, I began to panic.

G-galter...?

I called out but no one answered.

I wanted to speak again but suddenly a strange thought wandered into my mind.

Wait...what's my name...again?

I frowned.

Huh...am Marta Madeleine

I admitted and yet, I felt uncertain.

Am Marta Madeleine...

Despite my admission, I still felt uncertain.

Am Marta Madeleine...right?

The moment I let doubt slip in, a gnawing crisis began to encroach my mind.

W-who am I?

An identity crisis.

Suddenly, my mind seemed to twist, my senses seeming to warp. My thoughts started to feel alien and my perception started to appear vague.

I began to panic as fear and dread began to seep into my mind.

My sense of self began to feel uncanny.

I wanted to scream when suddenly I heard a voice.

Wake up, Vicki.

Instantly, I regained my senses and the world of black vanished.

...

My eyes popped open and immediately, I was greeted by the sight of a beautiful garden.

HA...! HA...!

I grasped furiously for air, as my hands gripped my chest. Cold sweat poured down from my face as my breaths remained erratic.

HA...! HA...!

I am Vicki. I am Vicki. I am Vicki. I am Vicki. I am Vicki. I am Vicki.

I continued to repeat inwardly as my breaths began to slow down, my mind calming.

HOO...FWOO...

I took a deep breath and exhaled; I did this repeatedly until I finally calmed down.

HA...

I looked around, surveying my surroundings before I finally sighed.

"Am back in the garden...", I looked up at the black sky and blinked, "I guess...it's night..."

I remained silent for a long while before a sound suddenly caused me to jolt,

RUSTLE!

Instantly, I turned to the source.

"Marta Madeleine...?"

There was no response.

"Marta Droet...?"

Still no response.

"Marta?"

Yet, no response.

Suddenly, I began to feel a creeping sense of alarm and desperation.

She can't be gone...

No! She can't be gone!

I opened my mouth and screamed, "Marta! Wait!"

I have so many questions.

"Please wait!"

I bolted to my feet and frantically looked around, searching for the woman named Marta Droet.

"Please wait! What happened to you? What happened to Galter? What happened to your lives?! Why did he leave?!"

Once again, I was met with silence.

My gaze dropped, my body threatening to collapse to its knees when suddenly I heard her voice.

Distant. Wavering.

Like the entire garden had spoken itself, she uttered three words.

"He went mad."