Chapter 88

"…I’ve really done it this time."

As he stepped out of the building, reality struck him like a wave. Just a minute ago, his blood had been boiling, and he’d smashed everything in his path without a second thought. But now, as he surveyed the destruction, he realized he might have gone a bit overboard. He’d torn apart a building easily over a hundred pyeong in size, and though no one had died, there would certainly be enough people laid up in bed for the foreseeable future to fill a few truckloads.

If this got out…

‘This won’t just end with a pay cut or a reprimand…’

He’d already asked the maid to request help from his sister, but even she might struggle to clean up this mess. Then again, with her power, she could probably make this problem disappear with little effort.

‘But I’m definitely on a tighter leash now.’

He’d already been tied down, and now he might as well have a noose around his neck.

‘…This is madness.’

Ihan sighed, grimacing at his predicament.

But then—

"Master…."

"Why are you here? I told you to stay somewhere safe."

"B-But…"

For some reason, he didn’t feel any regret.

What was the word for this?

‘Favoritism, perhaps?’

He knew he shouldn’t favor one student over others, but Ihan also knew that he couldn’t control such feelings.

She was a remarkable kid, full of potential and the willingness to learn everything he could teach her…

‘No, that’s not quite right.’

Let him clarify.

She was simply a "good kid." Was it wrong to want her to receive as much kindness as she gave?

So—

"Let’s go grab some food. I’m starving."

Despite the headache of cleaning up, Ihan felt a deep sense of satisfaction.

"…"

Revi watched in stunned silence as her master walked out.

The building belonging to the Guild Consortium, the twentieth-largest structure in the eastern district, was on the verge of collapse. And the person responsible for this destruction was her own teacher.

Overwhelming.

That was the word that came to mind as she watched him, realizing he could easily defeat opponents she could barely even hope to face. Revi swallowed nervously.

"Master…."

"So, it’s official now? You’re calling me ‘Master’ instead of ‘Instructor’ since you dropped out?"

"Oh, no, that’s not what I…!"

"It was a joke, a joke."

"…Ah."

"…My bad. I won’t joke around anymore, so don’t make that face."

"Yes?"

"…"

"…Huh?"

A tear slid down her cheek.

Only then did she realize she’d been crying.

But why?

"S-Sorry… I’m… sorry…."

She didn’t even know why she was crying, and yet she kept wiping away the tears and apologizing. Ihan, however, didn’t look troubled or angry.

"Sometimes, when someone feels relief or lets their guard down, it just happens. I’ve dealt with all the scary ones, so you don’t need to worry anymore. …So could you stop crying? I’m not great at comforting people…."

His gentle words and concerned gaze only deepened her feelings.

Just a moment ago, he’d been the same person who’d demolished the Guild building, yet here he was, fumbling over how to comfort her.

And so Revi, looking up at the man who genuinely cared for her, suddenly threw herself into his arms.

"Uuhh… Hic."

"…"

She clung to him and cried softly.

"If you’re going to cry, do it out loud. Why cry so quietly?"

His muttered words made her sobs grow louder.

Now, I finally understand.

Why she’d suddenly started crying.

It wasn’t fear from watching him tear apart the Guild.

It was ‘relief’—and ‘joy’ that brought on these tears.

The joy of knowing that someone would fight for her, that someone stood unconditionally on her side—

Revi couldn’t hold back her tears any longer.

She stayed in his embrace, her shoulders shaking for quite some time.

For a long, long time…

Meanwhile, the would-be actors who’d arrived too late to the scene looked at each other.

"It seems like we weren’t needed here after all?"

"Indeed."

"Hmm, Kunta wanted to fight too."

"Timing is everything in life."

"I’d have liked to show off a bit too."

"…Haha."

"…"

They all wore slightly embarrassed expressions, like actors who’d missed their cue. They knew they should’ve rushed in instead of hesitating.

Still, relief showed in their smiles.

They were simply glad that their comrade was safe.

Originally, all eighty students had been poised to mobilize, but the seven representatives had volunteered to handle it. As it turned out, even that had been unnecessary.

"So, Jack. Did you find anything?"

"While Instructor was… dismantling things, I confirmed that Tristan’s involved. Things are about to get more complicated."

"…Tristan."

Certain things could only be confirmed on-site.

The man with striking black eyes listened to his subordinate’s report, his face contorted with frustration.

Tristan.

The name evoked both resentment and conflict for him.

Especially with the man leading that family. He was undoubtedly impressive as a knight, but his…

"If only he’d mend his womanizing ways, he’d be much better off."

"You know Marquess Genemia well?"

The boy with twin swords asked, evidently noticing his familiarity.

After a moment of hesitation, he shook his head.

"I can’t say there’s no connection, but claiming there is would be strange."

"…?"

He had no choice but to leave it vague.

In the "present," he’d had no encounters with that man.

"Is that supposed to be noble-speak? Why make it so complicated?"

"Kunta thinks it’s time to relearn the common tongue. Can’t understand a word of what he’s saying."

The grumbling of the mercenary and the barbarian brought a wry smile to his face. But at the same time, he found himself marveling at how he could speak so freely with them now.

‘Returning to this time is a true blessing.’

He’d once regarded these people as enemies, and now they’d become friends and comrades.

‘So that’s why people say nothing beats shared connections?’

He recalled the words of a future subordinate as he looked at his newfound comrades.

"Uh, wouldn’t it be best for us to leave now?"

A suspiciously exceptional, gray-haired young man he’d never met in any timeline.

"…I know, I know. I understand I need to be patient this time…!"

Grit!

And the "crazy witch" he’d never expected to befriend, who was now only an innocent blonde mage, albeit burning with jealousy.

Truly…

‘I’m fortunate to have such a mentor.’

Loen was deeply grateful for the connections and lessons from his second chance at life. His gaze rested on the young girl, nestled in her master’s arms, who still had so much growing up to do.

‘…So it was you, huh? I hadn’t realized, with your different appearance and name.’

It dawned on him today.

Not because of Tristan or the Guild.

Watching her silently cry made him realize it.

The quiet sobbing.

The… girl he’d once known… might have been her.

The Saint of the Battlefield had always cried like this when sorrow struck her.

Even at the deaths of close comrades, she’d only trembled quietly, as if she didn’t know how to cry out loud.

‘…So it was a habit from her youth.’

"Haa…."

Loen barely managed to hold back his own tears.

She had been his most trusted comrade.

Her body had been scarred with burns, so she’d always worn a mask, exuding humility. Yet on the battlefield, she had been the most courageous and noble warrior.

After the death of the Mercenary King, she’d rallied the fragmented mercenaries, becoming their new leader.

She was a nightmare to nobles and a warrior who fought to save a corrupted kingdom.

…Yet despite all her glory, she had never known true happiness, only living a life filled with tragedy.

Loen was overwhelmed by guilt.

‘I’m sorry, Jan. I’m so sorry. I should have recognized you sooner, but I didn’t….’

He felt like the worst fool.

This was the comrade who had saved his life multiple times.

He had excuses, of course.

She’d never shared her past life with anyone.

She’d endured so much that her hair had turned white, and it was only after three years of companionship that she’d revealed even her gender.

She hadn’t even shared her real name.

To him, she’d only been known as the Saint of the Battlefield, Ark Jan—the "Ark" for the powerless.

No one had been curious about her life or background.

Not even him, who had fought back-to-back with her.

But what good were those excuses now?

He hadn’t recognized her.

‘So this is why they say life is filled with regrets.’

Loen reflected on just how selfish he’d been, how little he’d cared for others.

Even before returning, he’d been praised as a skilled swordsman and a hero. But he had never been truly accepted by the people.

He’d lived selfishly, caring little for others, and though people saw him as a hero, they instinctively knew their lives would be difficult under his rule.

He regretted it all.

If only he had died on the battlefield, sparing someone else… would the future have been brighter?

‘I’ll never know.’

A failure like him had no right to guess.

But even if he was a failure…

‘I’ll do everything I can to make sure her life doesn’t end in tragedy this time.’

Loen made a vow.

Even if she didn’t remember him, he remembered her. That was enough to make her no longer a stranger.

He resolved to ensure that her future would not end as it once had.

…For now, however—

‘I’ll be content to play a supporting role.’

He knew that the stage wasn’t his this time.

The star of this story was his unpredictable and formidable mentor.

‘So, how will you unravel this tangled web?’

The knight always acted beyond his expectations, making choices that reshaped even the course of fate.

As a returnee, Loen watched with glowing eyes, eager to see the next move his mentor would make.