If only that “I’m powerless” excuse were just a bluff. But Glarus hadn’t even shown himself, and he was receiving penalties within his own domain—the temple. That likely meant he’d done something massive.
And whatever Glarus did… was probably going to come back and hit Inas hard.
Nigel clenched his fist so tightly that his nails dug into his palm.
“What the hell did you do?”
[What do you think I did?]
“Answer me properly.”
[I don’t have any reason to. But if you get on your knees and beg, maybe I’ll toss you a hint.]
It wasn’t even a voice—just words—but the mocking tone came through loud and clear. Nigel’s face twisted with anger. The idea that this sarcastic bastard was some kind of god tasked with maintaining the balance of the world was laughable. He seemed more like a brat with a personality disorder.
“You worthless son of a bitch.”
[I’d say that’s more fitting for you.]
“…What?”
[And watch your tone.]
Like hell. He was already pissed about being called trash for no reason, and now this asshole was picking a fight? Nigel opened his mouth to snap back, but the words stuck in his throat. His tongue wouldn’t move.
A different kind of window than the usual dialogue box appeared before his eyes.
<system: Due to the influence of the title “Divine Messenger,” your language is now subject to divine modulation.>
<system: Please express proper reverence toward the god you serve.>
What kind of bullshit was this? Nigel was dumbfounded. That so-called god had chucked any trace of initial dignity and was now chatting like some casual acquaintance. He wanted to rip the damn window apart, but under this forced influence, even moving was a struggle. The message from Glarus flickered like it was laughing at him. Nigel gritted his teeth and clenched his fists.
[No need to get so worked up.]
“……”
[Sure, I went a bit overboard. Crossed the line with my interference. But one thing’s for sure—I didn’t do anything bad for the world.]
“…What do you mean, sir?”
He meant to spit the words out curtly, but thanks to the system correction, they got stretched into a formal mess. Glarus stayed silent for a moment, then slowly displayed one word at a time.
[You’ve already seen it.]
Yeah. He’d seen it. That’s why he’d rushed here, unable to ignore it any longer, unable to keep pretending he didn’t see what was right in front of him.
“I don’t understand.”
[Then look again.]
Glarus’s reply was firm, directed at Nigel who still refused to accept it.
As if wiping away the short sentence, ripples spread across the message. The circular ripple burst outward, leaving behind countless rings of varying sizes. The edges of the rings began to split, morphing into the shapes of gears. Thousands, tens of thousands of gears filled the room, interlocking and spinning together.
The sound of the vast mechanism coming to life echoed like crashing waves. Though clearly an illusion, the vision was so vivid and intricate it felt overwhelmingly real.
But something went wrong.
A small stone, rolling in out of nowhere, got lodged between the gears. That tiny foreign object skewed everything.
The gears tried to spin, but the small, solid stone stayed stubbornly wedged in place. The gears groaned, forcing themselves to move, but their motion was no longer smooth.
Nigel didn’t want to watch anymore. But there was nowhere to look away.
The misaligned mechanism began to break down, piece by piece. Perfectly meshed gears clattered to the floor, breaking and stopping.
[As you can see, a single pebble can ruin everything.]
The crack that started in one part spread to the rest. Everything began to shatter. Splintering, falling apart, collapsing.
Only after everything was destroyed did the stone—once immovable—finally tumble to the ground. Nigel’s eyes stayed fixed on it.
An obstruction. But to Nigel, that small stone—or more accurately, the figure it symbolized—was just… pitiful.
As if mocking his sentiment, Glarus’s next message appeared in the air.
[Inas Idenbach endured far too long. Any ordinary pebble would’ve been ground to dust by now.]
“……”
[Even now, it’s not too late. The world hasn’t fallen completely.]
If Inas were crushed—if his existence were destroyed—maybe the grinding gears would start turning again.
[Everyone losing their memories after each Loop is a safety mechanism. If everyone remembered the previous timelines, they’d go insane.]
“That line of thinking seems… inappropriate, sir.”
What he wanted to say was, “Are you insane?” But instead of lashing out, Nigel forced himself to speak politely. Thankfully, it seemed the meaning got through. Glarus didn’t respond—just vanished into silence. But in that silence, Nigel sensed agreement.
A god who once worked to maintain the balance of the world, but eventually went mad and began to hate all things on earth.
Only after a long pause did Glarus speak again, like nothing had happened.
[If the safety mechanism no longer functions, that means it’s broken. Or it’s reached its limit.]
“Please speak clearly. Are you saying… this is the final Loop?”
[There’s so much I want to tell you. I couldn’t say it all before either. But I, too, am bound by the system.]
That was all the answer he needed.
Maybe this really was the last Loop.
After all the repeated timelines, the world might come to an end in the year 284. Quietly, completely.
“Inas said there might be a way.”
[If you truly believe it’s possible, then go ahead. Struggle.]
“Are you saying it is possible?”
[I don’t know. I can’t answer.]
“……”
[Whether you destroy everything—or just one thing—I hope you don’t make the wrong choice.]
The last sentence was clearer than anything before. And then it disappeared.
Nigel looked around the now-empty prayer room. Glarus was gone. Not just invisible—truly gone.
Crush Inas and restore stability to the world… or fall with him into ruin. Either way, if Inas died, at least others might survive. That was the rational choice.
But…
The vision Glarus had shown him—a perfectly working mechanism shattered by a single pebble. But what had the pebble done wrong? It hadn’t chosen to be there. It had just been trapped inside, crushed under pressure it never asked for. And now, it was supposed to be obliterated just for getting in the way?
His stomach churned. The shock hit his frail body hard. He couldn’t even stand properly, stumbling until he collapsed onto the floor. His arm knocked over a nearby chair, sending a loud crash echoing through the room.
“Young Master!”
With a brief cry, the door flew open and Schumacher entered. Even now, amid the chaos, Nigel felt a flicker of embarrassment. But Schumacher remained composed, walking over and lifting him into his arms.
“You don’t look well. Let me take care of you.”
“Sir Schumacher, the temple can tend to him—”
A woman in white cleric robes cut in.
“What would you like to do, Young Master?”
Hearing Schumacher’s formal speech and seeing the row of clerics behind him, Nigel understood.
The temple must’ve quickly confirmed his identity. They probably wanted to keep him around, while Schumacher—unaware of the full situation—simply wanted to help. Nigel grabbed his arm.
“I need to return to the estate.”
Vagueness would only make things worse. At his overly firm tone, one of the clerics flinched.
“God told me to return.”
<Revelation of Lies>. A skill activated—allowing Nigel to present his words as divine prophecy. The more devout the listener, the more effective it became. The cleric blocking the way quickly stepped aside.
“Lord Nigel. It was an honor to have you visit the temple. May we speak again another time?”
“Later.”
He gave a half-hearted reply to the lingering cleric and stepped outside.
One of them, flustered but trying to be helpful, offered a carriage if he needed to leave immediately. Nigel had no reason to refuse, so he quietly waited. Still cradled awkwardly in Schumacher’s arms, he cast a sideways glance at the man holding him.
“Put me down.”
“You’re still shaking.”
“It’s just the cold.”
“You lived in the northernmost region of the continent. This is cold to you?”
Even knowing the truth, Schumacher kept his tone light. Nigel didn’t bother correcting him—he just chuckled.
“…Cold’s still cold.”
“Then all the more reason to stay still. My body’s warm.”
“No, seriously—let me go.”
He protested, but being held like this really did help calm him. His trembling eased, and soon the carriage prepared by the temple arrived.
Schumacher placed him inside and climbed in after. Once the door shut and the carriage began to move, Nigel glanced over at him.
“You’re tagging along?”
“Didn’t I say I’d escort you? Besides, it was Duke Magnus who contacted me. I’m a guest.”
“…Right.”
“Did you really see a revelation? Is that how you recognized me?”
Schumacher stared him down. One of Nigel’s goals this Loop was to persuade Schumacher—not just half-ass it, but approach him with sincerity every step of the way. To stop him from ever thinking about collecting the Relics.
With that goal in mind, Nigel felt a bit more grounded. Though the shaking had stopped, his cold hands remained clenched tight.
“No. So… what rumors are going around?”
“You don’t know?”
Schumacher gave him a suspicious look.
“Revelations don’t tell you everything.”
“I meant rumors about you, young master. No one tells you anything?”
“I’m just a kid. I don’t need to know everything.”
“That’s strange. You should know your own story.”
Stubborn. Maybe that was what got him on King Esian’s bad side, Nigel thought. But he didn’t dislike it. In fact, he kind of liked it.
“Anyway, I don’t know. What are they saying?”
“Honestly, there’s no clear story. It’s all rumors. Wild exaggerations. Most people think it’s nonsense.”
“…Figures.”
His father must’ve deliberately spread false information to distance him from the temple. If that was the case, there was no need to take any of it seriously. Nigel slumped back against the carriage seat, too drained to think about anything else.
It wasn’t far on foot, so it didn’t take long for the carriage to reach the Magnus estate. Schumacher opened the door and helped Nigel down.
As he stepped out, he met the eyes of those waiting out front. Roshan, a few knights and servants—and Inas.
“……”
Inas’s eyes scanned him thoroughly, as if searching for something.
