Six months between past and future.

"Are you ready?" the old man asked, his tone filled with respect as he looked at Akriod with reverent eyes.

Akriod, who was unprepared for the sudden turn of events, met the old man's gaze with a calm smile that masked his inner turmoil and responded, "Give me a moment to prepare myself."

"Of course, sir. I'll wait for you outside," the old man replied gently, closing the door behind him with deliberate care.

---

Taking advantage of the time, Akriod moved quickly.

He opened a small cabinet, revealing only a few plain garments.

Disappointed, he turned his attention to a mirrored drawer.

He opened it and found some scattered papers.

His eyes scanned the disorganized sheets with little interest, dismissing their value and tossing them aside.

But something nagged at him, compelling him to reopen the drawer and sift through the papers again.

One particular crumpled sheet caught his attention.

Unfolding it with curiosity, he scrutinized its contents silently.

His eyes narrowed as he read the text at the top of the page. "First month of the year!" He froze. "The Atolex calendar… That means I'm on the northern continent. But how? I should have traveled a full year ahead. Is this… the result of the forbidden experiment?"

Akriod's gaze shifted to the window.

Beyond the glass, the towering mountains loomed over the surrounding structures. Confusion churned within him.

Despite his awareness of the date and his physical location, his mind fixated on a critical discrepancy: the time jump.

By his calculations, sixteen full months should have passed by now—equivalent to one calendar year.

However, there were only six months between the past and the future, which was different from what Akriod had planned.

He knew something had gone wrong, and as his thoughts spiraled, a theory began forming in his mind.

There was only one plausible explanation.

---

Akriod recalled the sacred tool, Uru, which made his experiment possible.

It aligned perfectly with the details of his test on the homeless woman in the forest.

The Uru, capable of enabling time travel three times, was used for the first time in this experiment.

He had precisely chosen the time and location for the woman's reappearance, controlling the event entirely with his will.

When she disappeared while asleep on the forest floor, Akriod noticed something peculiar: her shadow lingered, a faint and transparent halo.

Uncertain if this phenomenon was visible only to him or to others, Akriod had no one to validate his suspicions.

Through that long, sleepless night under the moonlight, the shadow remained, unwavering.

At sunrise, the woman reappeared exactly where the shadow halo had stood.

Her return confirmed the success of his experiment.

Satisfied, Akriod abandoned her in the forest, indifferent to the wolves prowling nearby.

His business with her was complete.

However, this was only the beginning.

In defiance of all existing moral laws, Akriod crossed the line by combining Uru, the sacred tool for time travel.

With another sacred tool, Senshu, which can copy forms.

He used this fusion to create a replica of Inar, son of Agard.

This act—combining two sacred tools—was explicitly prohibited.

The sacred tools contained independent spirits, and attempting to unite two spirits was forbidden, and would result in severe consequences unless the user paid an equivalent price at the moment of the fusion of the two sacred tools.

If the user evaded this payment, the penalty would inevitably come in the future.

But Akriod chose the forbidden way, fully aware of the risks, and moved forward.

For him, it was not his choice but he was forced to do so so that he would not lose the copy of Inar that he had sent to the future.

This caused him to lose all of the forms of his victims that he had a copy of.

The risk was worth it—or so he believed.

---

Now, confronted with the unexpected change in time, Akriod could only surmise that this temporal distortion was part of the cost of his forbidden actions.

If so, the price of taboos paid by Akriod may be related to the change in the length of the time transition from a full year to only six months.

That's what he thinks.

For Akriod, the price of his entry into the taboo was full of doubt, because taboos do not make you pay a small price.

But he realized that all of this was just hypotheses and possibilities that could be right or wrong, and that his success in reaching the future was all that mattered.

_ _ _

Closing the drawer and carefully returning the paper to its place, Akriod stood before the mirror, scrutinizing his reflection.

His eyes searched for traces of his identity, but the image staring back felt foreign. Slowly, he turned away, heading for the door.

He stepped outside to find the old man waiting silently, his hands folded neatly behind his back. "Is everything all right, Mr. Inar?" the old man asked, concern evident in his voice.

"Just a slight pain in the back of my head," Akriod replied with a practiced air of reassurance, concealing the truth.

The old man's brows furrowed. "May I take a look?"

Akriod hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Of course," he whispered softly.

The old man stepped closer, his hand gently resting on the back of Akriod's head.

The touch was unexpectedly tender, like a parent caring for a child.

"You feel cold, sir," the old man remarked. The coldness came from the sacred tool, Senshu, which chilled its user when a false form was assumed.

"Yes, just a small chill," Akriod replied smoothly. "Nothing to worry about."

"If you say so," the old man responded, though worry still lingered in his gaze.

---

With the conversation settled, the two descended a grand staircase, their footsteps echoing through the cavernous hall.

At the base of the steps, the polished wooden floor stretched toward two colossal statues, their right arms raised like swords pointed toward the heavens.

Before them, rows of soldiers trained in disciplined formation, their coordinated movements shaking the ground.

Their unified voices filled the air with a powerful rhythm.

"Who are they?" Akriod inquired, his gaze fixed on the soldiers.

"They are the first cohort of the 510th year," the old man explained. "Among them are a few exceptional talents—Aram and Aran, brothers who achieved perfect scores in the recruitment test, and young Ryudas of the legendary Ryudas family, renowned for producing history's finest soldiers. Though his performance has been lackluster compared to his ancestors, his potential is undeniable."

Akriod's focus narrowed on Ryudas, whose long black hair swayed with his every movement.

The name was familiar—eerily so.

"Ryudas!" He spoke in a low voice, his eyes contemplating the young man.

Ryudas was the same name as a man Akriod had killed in his past, a follower of the Star Sect.

The memory of his assassination aboard the Rex flying ship flashed in Akriod's mind.

"That name... " Akriod muttered absently, trying to mask the flicker of recognition in his expression.

"You seem distracted, sir. Are you all right?"

"Just think about the difference between talent and hard work," Akriod replied, steering the conversation away.

The old man smiled. "A fascinating question indeed, but you know, sir; talent alone without work is worthless, just as hard work without success is worthless too."

"You are right."Akriod nodded, his thoughts lingering elsewhere as they approached a grand chamber, its intricate ceiling depicting mythical scenes of dragons and crowns.

Two elders awaited them, half-masked and seated at a large table.

"Welcome, Sir Inar," one of the elders greeted with a tone of gravity. "We must first offer our condolences for the passing of your father."

Akriod stiffened, concealing his shock at the revelation.

"Are you kidding me?Couldn't he have found another time to die?"He muttered to himself in surprise.

The man he had planned to exploit—Agard—was dead.

Forcing composure, Akriod responded with feigned calm,"I appreciate your condolences, it was hard to lose him... But crying over the past will not help us, Now can we avoid the introductions?"

Ronan clapped his hands, and the black curtains at the gate behind them opened, allowing ten tall figures to pass through. Beneath their feet, humans with chains around their necks crawled on the ground like dogs.