TRVLT 51

Chapter 51

A flood of terrible trauma hit him all at once.

“Ah… ugh…”

Lashian buried his head in his hands and lowered it.

The situation in front of him was something he had experienced many times in his past life. Whenever he was in danger or fell into a trap, Glen would come to save him.

“It’s the same… exactly the same as before.”

The last time he saw Glen in his second life was on the day they planned to assassinate Duke Pembros, Lucius’ father-in-law and the head of the Second Prince’s faction.

But because his foresight failed, they fell into a trap set by the enemy. That tragic day replayed in his mind.

Back then, just like now, over a hundred soldiers surrounded the small group of only a few people.

With Glen and the Hazeite knights’ skills, they could have survived. But Lashian had been the weak link.

To get Lashian to safety first, Glen stayed in the middle of the enemy. Even in that desperate moment, he tapped Lashian’s cheek with his finger and smiled.

“I wanted you to live your life, Lashian.”
“Brother! No, I’ll stay. I—!!”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t stay by your side until the end.”

That had been his last conversation with the living Glen.

Fear froze his mind.

The small boy’s body began trembling uncontrollably.

“If only I weren’t here… because I was here, my brother died again.”

He shouldn’t have followed Duke Pembros when he insisted on killing him himself. That stubbornness shouldn’t have happened.

“Stupid… you were so desperate back then, and now… again!”

He knew following Glen would do no good—but he was dragged along anyway by Ariletti’s firm grip.

It was going to be a distraction, just like always.

Then…

“Hey, Your Highness.”

Ariletti, hugging her knees, spoke suddenly.

“About the power of the White Forest… did you know it’s not supposed to be used like this?”

A faint light returned to Lashian’s eyes.

“What… are you talking about?”

“The sages were born to distribute the forest’s power. To prevent the forest’s power from concentrating too much.”
“Does that matter now?”
“Yes.”

Lashian stared at Ariletti as if she had lost her mind. She didn’t care and continued to watch the battle ahead.

“This is what I heard from Banil. The contract between the White Forest and the sages.”

• The forest didn’t grant power to humans. It needed a vessel to contain its overflowing energy. Only intelligent beings could handle it. If low-level creatures were given power, it would explode. If the power was lost, the forest couldn’t survive. If the forest falls, the world ends.

• So sages must designate a successor to inherit the power before they die. If the vessel breaks, the balance is lost.

Thus, sages only use their power when the forest is at risk. That’s the contract between the forest and the sages.

• For someone like Aril, a time manipulator, the power to maintain time is allowed. Even keeping time from collapsing to protect the forest on the last day is permitted. “Time Manipulator’s Blessing” can be used freely.

• But “regression” is different. Turning back time is unrelated to protecting the forest. Infinite regression is forbidden dark magic and life-risking magic.

If that applies to all sages, what about a dream-seeing prophet? What part of their power is permitted, and what counts as forbidden magic?

“There are people who fall asleep standing up.”
“Has she gone mad…?”

Lashian waved his hand at Ariletti’s strange words, but she didn’t care.

“Some people control dreams freely. Some dream without actually sleeping.”

At that moment, a lightning realization struck Lashian.

A person who dreams, but not completely unconsciously…

That was him.

Her round eyes fixed on him.

“Dream-seeing prophet, even your unconscious is yours. Don’t just follow your power—use it.”
“……”
“You don’t want Glen Hazeite to die again, right? Then you have to try.”

Ariletti pushed Lashian on the back with her small hands.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Lashian stepped forward a few paces. The undead immediately noticed him and turned.

Grrr!

The corpses, recognizing their prey, dropped rotting flesh as they approached.

“You…!”

The scream of disbelief rose in his throat but didn’t escape.

The undead quickly surrounded Lashian. The small, doll-like girl was hidden among the dripping corpses.

“Your Highness!”

Dunken, who was breaking five undead at once, rushed over in panic, but more undead blocked him.

In an instant, Lashian was isolated among the monsters.

His heart pounded.

“Try? You want me to try?”

He thought suddenly: what have I ever really tried?

In his past two lives, he struggled desperately to survive. He tried anything with his injured body.

But that was only possible because Glen Hazeite was his shield. Without him, Lashian Federka was nothing but a fragile paper doll.

Since Glen died, he lost all will to fight. He always fell apart like this.

Maybe he was a coward, relying too much on the safety of Glen Hazeite.

Among the legs of the approaching undead, he saw the girl hugging her rabbit doll.

No. Lashian didn’t see a child.

Through all the visions and his lost lives, he saw a woman he had seen too often: long pink hair, indifferent teal eyes, an unnervingly unchanged expression, a gaze that pierced the soul.

Only now did he realize: Ariletti Cadis may look like a child, but she’s not. Just like he isn’t a child either.

He mustn’t act foolishly.

“Your Highness!”

Glen’s shout from behind spurred him.

Lashian grabbed a broken sword from the undead and straightened his posture.

Even my unconscious is mine.

And my ability? I can possess someone I’ve touched and see the most likely future.

White energy coursed over his hand on the sword.

I control my power.

The veil of his unconscious changed his vision. He saw himself.

His own body lunged at him with venomous eyes.

Left side!

“…!”

Lashian barely rolled to avoid the strike.

He wasn’t completely safe; his side stung, but there was no time to dwell.

Consciousness and unconsciousness coexisted. Seeing his movements through someone else’s eyes was a first.

Thanks to that, he understood his current state.

“Pathetic.”

Small, weak body. Struggling just to dodge and run.

He remembered learning swordsmanship from Glen Hazeite in a past life. He knew what to do in theory… but his body was too weak to perform the elegant techniques.

Feeling his familiar self-loathing, Lashian bit his lip.

Even if only by a few seconds, what he saw was a real future. A future that was very likely to happen.