Chapter 115

Turning back time wasn't easy.

Even with Albrecht Bertholdt's preparations, it was next to impossible. Only next to. That was the problem.

If there'd been no hope at all, he wouldn't have dreamed of it in the first place.

Albrecht wouldn't have left a spell like this behind if there'd been no chance. If Edwin couldn't have completed it, his father wouldn't have left this in place of the grimoire they'd made together.

This was a miracle.

The miracle that could save Edgar.

The miracle Edwin had longed for so badly.

Guide lines were drawn in. The empty parts he filled in himself. Where he came up short, someone else helped — though "someone else" only ever meant one person.

Grisha Lambert hadn't been happy when Edwin said he'd complete Albrecht's spell, but he hadn't opposed it either.

If he'd really meant to oppose it, he wouldn't have shown the journal to Edwin in the first place. Edwin wasn't the only one who wanted a miracle.

"...How is it?"

Edwin waited anxiously for Grisha's answer.

Grisha's body flickered like a candle in the wind. He'd fade until only a faint afterimage remained, then sharpen until it hurt to look at — several times over, before he finally steadied.

"It's connected."

Grisha's answer came with an unsettled look, as if he hadn't decided whether to be glad about it or disappointed.

But in the end he lowered his eyes and sighed.

"It won't hold for long."

"Can't be helped that the durability's low. It was only ever meant for one use. It just has to hold for as long as we need."

Over the past three years, Edwin had traveled all over the continent finishing his preparations. When he'd explained it as work to stabilize mana, people had welcomed him for it.

The truth was the exact opposite. Edwin had been terrified someone would see through him. That word would get out about the irreversible thing the mage of the new dawn was doing.

That the spell would fail because of it.

Edwin swallowed his fear and his desire. It was already done.

"I can pull in half the continent's mana. That's the first source of power."

Edwin's sole accomplice said. Edwin swallowed hard and nodded.

"The mana used as power will sink into the ground right away."

"With that much mana soaking in, it'll erupt right back out. And the backlash will be worse than what happened at the coronation."

Grisha paused for a moment and looked at Edwin.

"You ready, Edwin?"

"Always."

"Right. In that case."

Edwin's answer seemed to be enough for Grisha.

But Grisha's silence made Edwin uneasy for no good reason.

There was no one left who remembered Grisha Lambert. Even if there was someone who still remembered the name, they'd think of him idly as one of the nobles who'd died at the coronation. Not as the man ground down by depression who had raised his dead friend's young nephews.

Edwin would be the last human to remember Grisha Lambert.

"...I met an old man once."

Grisha looked puzzled at the sudden statement.

"He was trying to get into the palace, saying he had to go save his nephew, and it took some doing to stop him. He always wore a royal guard uniform. Plenty of medals, too."

Grisha didn't follow what Edwin was talking about, but he blinked at the word "royal guard."

"He never gave his family name, but I know his first name. Everyone called him Mad Wilhelm."

"..."

"Are you really all right?"

Grisha looked at Edwin.

Meeting Grisha, who couldn't leave the heart of the palace, took its toll on Edwin too. No matter how many layers of spells he wrapped around himself, depending on the mana conditions, there were more days he couldn't come near at all than days he could. Not something Grisha could control either.

Because of that, Edwin hadn't been able to come more than a few times since receiving Albrecht's grimoire.

Next time would probably be the last.

It would be a lie to say he didn't feel any affection for this man. Since his uncle's death, Grisha had been the only guardian left to Edwin and Edgar.

"It'll be hard, sure, but not impossible. Together—"

"No, Edwin."

Grisha shook his head.

"To keep the spell going all the way to the end, I have to be here. There's no telling how much mana it'll need. It can't cut out partway through."

"..."

"That's why you did all the groundwork. Once I draw the mana in, I can keep it cycling. The mana that erupts back up is purified — we can use it as power again."

Edwin closed his mouth. Grisha said it with the same firmness he'd once used to scold Edwin for climbing trees at the Lambert estate.

Seeing Edwin's face, Grisha's voice softened a little.

"I didn't offer to help you out of some half-baked resolve."

Once the tainted mana surfaced and could be used again, Grisha would pull it in. Edwin would use it, and the earth — holding vast quantities of mana — wouldn't hold on long and would spit it right back out. He'd use that too.

Until the spell was complete.

The world wouldn't hold. Edwin knew it. Grisha knew it.

To bring about the miracle, Edwin and Grisha had decided to offer up this world as the sacrifice.

Grisha smiled bleakly.

"I don't want to live carrying the memory of failure."

"..."

He still couldn't call Grisha by name. Edwin clenched his fist. The Alharn royal line was cursed. The founding king must have thought it a blessing.

"I'm not strong enough to bear it."

"But—"

"So I'm just... offloading it onto you. If you need somewhere to lay the blame, blame me. All right?"

Grisha reached out as if he wanted to hold on to Edwin, but he couldn't touch him. No matter how many spells he wore, no human could withstand contact with mana at that density.

Grisha drew his hand back with a look of regret.

"Take good care of Edgar. And if you can — save your uncle too."

"What about you?"

"Well..."

Grisha smiled faintly.

"Try telling him about that constitutional monarchy of yours. He'll love it. He'll probably spend the rest of his life trying to make it happen. Much more productive than the life he's got now."

"...Right."

"But if you can..."

At the very last, Grisha finally put words to the grief he'd carried in his chest for so long — and asked it of Edwin as a favor.

"Save Adelheid."

That was the last conversation they had. The next time Edwin met Grisha, there was no room for talk.

Edwin completed the spell while the sound of the world ending filled his ears. His whole body coming apart, his soul grinding away. The heartbeat pounding at his ear wasn't Edwin's alone.

Every last part of Grisha Lambert became fuel. The blessing on his bloodline had turned into a curse. The man who had become mana itself burned even the last of his ash for the children he'd raised.

For the only family he had left.

"Goodbye, Edwin. You deserve to be happy."

Said the man who had nothing left.

"The last king of Alharn is going to pardon you. Every sin is mine."

Was this what he'd stayed behind in that distant future to say?

"So — take care of your family."

Through the pain of his soul burning away, Edwin laughed, tears streaming.

---

"Edwin."

In the pitch dark, Edgar startled and grabbed hold of Edwin.

A small hand. The archmage's old, wrinkled hand had turned unbelievably small. Edwin clenched and unclenched his fist, feeling for the sensation. The mana that had been crushing every inch of him wasn't there anymore. Air without mana in it was this easy to breathe.

"Edwin."

"...Edgar?"

"I..."

Edwin held his breath and waited for Edgar to go on.

Was Edgar — Edwin's Edgar — here with him now? Edgar, who had slept in the Bertholdt estate for decades, finally—

A miracle.

"Listen, Edwin. I know this'll sound strange, but I..."

A miracle.

"I... I think I've come back to the past."

Miracle.

Edwin broke into a wide smile. He didn't know how many years it had been since he'd smiled like this. Was he smiling properly? It was fine. He could just copy Edgar again. However strangely he behaved, everyone would put it down to him being Albrecht's son.

"Really?"

"Y-yeah. Edwin, I'm not lying — I mean, I..."

"Edgar."

Edwin took Edgar's hand. A hand as small as his own. But the warmth came through clearly. When he squeezed, a firm grip came back.

"I've also—"

"Uncle!"

"Huh?"

"We have to save Uncle, Edwin! What day is it now? Do you know how long we've been in here?!"

"..."

"Don't worry, Edwin. Just hold on a little and Uncle will come save us. That's all we need. Wait — did Uncle catch Adrien that time?"

Edwin didn't finish what he'd been about to say and just looked at Edgar.

Whatever that looked like to Edgar, he pulled Edwin into a tight hug.

"It's okay, Edwin. You don't have to be scared anymore. I'm here."

Edgar had always been like this — get him fixed on one thing and everything else disappeared from view.

Edwin thought it over for a moment and nodded. Part of it was that Edgar reaching for their uncle first, not Leona Bleiss, put him on edge.

For now, wait until things settled. Edwin needed time to adjust to being back in the past too.

For the moment, he'd just savor this sweet miracle.

He had to start thinking about what came next. Doing nothing for a while wouldn't cause any real problems, but...

"We have to stop Uncle from going to the domain."

Edwin kept smiling and nodding along with what Edgar was saying. Last time, their uncle had gone down to the domain because of Edgar. As long as Edgar was safe, there was no reason to make the trip.

Not even Grisha had known exactly what happened during this stretch. Everything had fallen apart too fast. Grisha had explained what he could, but the moment Edwin started changing events, it would all become useless.

"I'll protect you, Edwin..."

Edgar repeated it like an incantation.

The look in his eyes wasn't as clear as Edwin had hoped for. Whether Edgar's last memory was of Leona Bleiss's knife going into him or he couldn't remember it — either way, it was a problem.

But he hadn't collapsed the way he had before. The twenty-three-year-old Edgar Bertholdt was, at least, slowly trying to move forward. Carrying the hope that the past could be fixed.

That was a far greater motivation than the selfish thing Edwin had wanted.

For Edwin, turning back time to stop the world from ending, or to prevent other deaths — none of that had come first. Edwin and Grisha hadn't wanted to bear responsibility for that many lives.

The miracle Edwin wanted had always been simple. The child who'd been at his side from the moment he was born. He'd wanted to protect that child.

If it had only been about turning back time, the mana required would have been far less. But Edwin had had to bring his Edgar along with him. Grisha had understood him for that. That the one person Edwin wanted to save was that child, and no one else.

The child who'd been hurt and broken, and still kept trying, somehow, to make something of it.

Edwin's older brother. Little brother. Family. Friend. Son. All of it.

"Sorry I came late."

Edgar getting fixated on saving their uncle was an unexpected miscalculation.

At least if their uncle didn't go down to the domain and stayed in the capital, the urgent problems would sort themselves out.

...Maybe. Maybe he really could save everyone.

Edwin blinked, arms wrapped around his uncle's neck.