“Hey, but… wouldn’t Glarus get mad if you catch Lucimus, the sea dragon?”
The relationship between gods and dragons might not be as close as Nigel and Inas’s, but it was still pretty tight. Killing one just through fishing felt like the kind of thing that would definitely piss Glarus off—and since Inas seemed to have a talent for pushing people’s buttons, Nigel couldn’t help but worry. But Inas just gave a casual shrug, completely unfazed.
“It’s fine.”
“But still…”
“Nigel, don’t concern yourself too much with Glarus. You heard Etna earlier—there’s no need to be overly cautious. Of course, that doesn’t mean you should let your guard down completely, but…”
Inas took Nigel’s hand and pressed a light kiss to the back of it, just like when he’d once sworn a knight’s oath.
“I’ll protect you. I won’t let Glarus harm you—so don’t worry.”
That’s not the point… I’m worried about you getting hurt.
Nigel swallowed the words that had risen to his tongue and gave a small nod. Whenever he looked into Inas’s sincere eyes, he felt the urge to trust him—felt like he could trust him. Inas smiled and gently lowered Nigel’s hand.
“And one more thing, Nigel. There’s something I’d like your help with.”
“What is it?”
“It’s about Schumacher. You mentioned something to Duke Ruder, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I did.”
Nigel flinched involuntarily. He had a lot to be guilty about… But Inas didn’t seem remotely bothered by the fact he’d killed that man in the previous loop. His expression remained calm.
“No need to feel uneasy. I’m not planning to kill Schumacher in this loop.”
“Coming from the guy who killed him last time, that doesn’t mean much…”
“Actually, I’d be pretty happy if we met him early. If you start meeting with Schumacher regularly before you turn seventeen, he won’t trigger any romance flags.”
“Really?”
That was a relief to hear. Now that he thought about it, Schumacher was over ten years older than Nigel. If they met when Nigel was an adult, the age gap might not feel so pronounced—but if Schumacher spent his time watching over a twelve or thirteen-year-old, it’d be harder to see him as a potential romantic partner. Of course, there were plenty of scumbags out there, but Schumacher was the upright type.
“So you want me to spend time with him early?”
“Mm, it’s not just about avoiding romance flags. There’s a route I’ve tried to unlock before—one that’s entirely possible based on the story conditions—but I’ve never been able to achieve it. I think you might be the one who can.”
“What is it?”
“It’s the route where Schumacher never falls under the spell of the Relics of Glarus.”
“You’ve never managed that?”
“Not even once.”
That was surprising. Considering how much effort Inas put into achieving various Achievements, it seemed like one of the more obvious things to attempt. Turning a villain into a hero is a classic trope. And if he could go so far as to catch the sea dragon Lucimus with a custom-made fishing rod, it was hard to believe he couldn’t keep Schumacher away from the relics.
“Whenever the loop starts, some kind of misfortune always hits Schumacher, and he ends up succumbing to the temptation.”
“Is it like… protagonist luck, but for the villain?”
Nigel thought of Kay, whose actions always seemed to turn out well no matter what. If the Protagonist had divine favor, it made sense that the Final Boss would have their own fated path as well. Inas nodded.
“Yeah, that’s the right way to look at it.”
“You really think I can do it?”
“I’m not trying to burden you with this. It’s just… Schumacher and I have terrible synergy, so I always fail. But with you, Nigel, it might be different.”
“Yeah, I can’t really see you two getting along.”
A man who’s lost all rationality after endless Time Loops and a straight-laced traditionalist—no, definitely not a good combo.
“Exactly. If you could stay close and keep an eye on him, I think that would be good. Even if it doesn’t work out, I think you’ll still be able to collect the necessary Achievements. But if this is a special enough route that I’ve never unlocked it… maybe there’s a unique reward at the end of it.”
The weight of the task settled heavily on Nigel’s shoulders. He nodded solemnly.
“Alright. I’ll try.”
“But don’t push yourself. You still have about ten years left. And I’d hate it if you got sick again.”
“It’s not like being careful will magically make me fine. And besides—you’re the one who should be more careful.”
Inas blinked, confused by Nigel’s warning.
“Me? Careful of what?”
“That sword my brother had. It’s dangerous. Especially for you…”
That thing was practically a guaranteed hit on him. But Inas still looked as calm and relaxed as ever.
“Ah. It’s fine. I don’t plan to get hit anyway.”
“Don’t be so flippant.”
“Do you really think a regular human with a sword could hit me?”
“But still…”
Hadn’t it already happened? But Nigel, being the one who’d stabbed him, couldn’t bring himself to say it. Inas let out a quiet chuckle.
“I let you hit me.”
He muttered lowly as he reached out a hand toward Nigel. But it stopped just short of touching him.
“You’re the only one who can kill me.”
Inas’s dark eyes were pitch black even in broad daylight. Like graves where countless thoughts and emotions had bloomed and died across untold years.
“If you ever want to kill me again, I’ll get you the sword myself.”
“I’m not going to kill you.”
Nigel answered without hesitation, but Inas shook his head slowly, as if he didn’t believe him.
“If you hate me so much that you want to take it out on me, poison works too. ordinary poisons don’t affect me at all… but the heart of Lucimus contains a toxin no human can digest. I’ll get it for you. If it’s something you give me, I’ll drink the poison gladly.”
“Why the hell would I do something like that…”
“Just… don’t throw me away.”
Unbelievably, Inas’s voice wavered at the end. It wasn’t some vague, hypothetical fear—he was genuinely terrified by that impossible thought.
“I’d never do that.”
Inas didn’t respond. Instead, he changed the subject.
“Nigel.”
“Yeah?”
“Can I… hold you for a moment?”
“What?”
“Please. Let me.”
His pleading gaze asked for permission. Just a hug—nothing more. But his eyes sparkled with desperate emotion, like someone about to undertake the most important challenge of their life.
It was a complete shift from earlier, and Nigel couldn’t help but falter. In the end, he gestured for Inas to come closer. And Inas stepped forward and wrapped him in a hug. Nigel’s small frame fit snugly in his arms.
He’s huge… And sturdier than I remember. He used to seem so thin, but now he feels solid. Not quite muscular, but a lot more stable.
Feeling overwhelmed, Nigel shoved him away with a bright-red face.
This is bad… The current Inas was the version of him Nigel had first fallen for. He might not be quite as masculine, but he was still the dizzying first love Nigel had never gotten over. It was hard enough to resist him as it was—but add those memories into the mix, and he didn’t stand a chance.
Noticing Nigel’s flustered reaction, Inas smiled in satisfaction.
“Rest well, Nigel.”
Beaming like the happiest man in the world, Inas cut off any reply Nigel might have made and walked away.
Left alone, Nigel hugged Rhino, feeling like he’d just woken from a dream. Inas was always like this—one moment this way, the next that. Impossible to pin down.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with your master.”
Though it had been ages since Inas was Rhino’s master. Of course, the dog didn’t understand a word—he just whined softly and snuggled into Nigel’s arms.
***
Once dusk fell, the Magnus duchy manor, despite its size, was eerily quiet. In winter, with food scarce, monsters would descend into the cities. Knights and soldiers formed patrol teams to defend against them, and civilians avoided going outside altogether, staying indoors to escape both the cold and the danger.
Though monsters had never breached the manor itself, those who’d lived their whole lives in this region stayed huddled inside out of habit.
But Inas wandered the silent estate without hesitation.
He came to a stop in front of what looked like an ordinary tree. But it wasn’t. It only appeared to be an ordinary tree—it was, in fact, a magical creature that responded to a specific spell.
Inas whispered the incantation, and the tree split open with a crack, revealing a staircase. He descended noiselessly into the dark depths below.
The secret passage beneath the tree was a twisted labyrinth. Anyone unfamiliar with it could easily get lost and starve to death. But that wasn’t a concern for Inas. No one knew the hidden tunnels of Montstein better than he did—not Duke Ruder, not heir Etna, not even the future duke Nigel.
Inas remembered them all—every forgotten passage, every crumbling path. Countless lives lived again and again had etched the memories deep into him.
As he walked, he picked up a discarded, rusted axe—nearly the size of small-bodied Nigel. It looked threatening, but the blade was dull and chipped, more blunt object than weapon. Inas didn’t care. He was long past the point of fussing over weapons.
He moved through the winding tunnels for a long while until he arrived at a mechanism—his destination.
It should’ve been easy to operate, but the system was broken, so brute force was required to open it.
As Inas reached to force it open, his brow furrowed.
“Just for this loop, please… only use as much strength as I knew you had.”
That’s what Nigel had asked.
But this frail, underfed sixteen-year-old body couldn’t possibly open it.
After a brief pause, Inas found a solution. Nigel hadn’t specified an exact number, so the words were open to interpretation.
“The strength I knew you had, back then.”
Nigel never said it had to be sixteen-year-old Inas’s strength. So using the strength of his twenty-seven-year-old self wouldn’t technically break that promise.
Even back then, Inas Idenbach’s stats had been exceptional. In the game, he was a support character who helped the protagonist in unwinnable fights—engineered to be almost impossible to kill. His stats were vastly superior to anyone else at the same level.
Using magic to recall and adjust his old stats, Inas infused strength into his hand and leaned his weight into the broken lever. It wasn’t easy, but bit by bit, the mechanism gave way.
And through the opening, he saw a man, wide-eyed with fear, staring back at him.
Inas smiled. He hefted the axe—and stepped inside.
