TRWVPS 13

Chapter 13

Erin was right. She didn’t know what was going on, but this was no time to stay still.

Even as he tried to grasp the situation, Erin swiftly slashed the neck of a mid-level monster. Then, to make sure it was dead, she stabbed her sword into its throat several more times.

Watching her, Amon was reminded of the first time he had killed a monster himself.

Taking a life felt filthier than he had expected. Even though his first opponent had only been a monster, he had struggled for a long time afterward with the guilt.

But Erin showed no hesitation at all. She looked like a seasoned knight, experienced in battle.

He had once heard a rumor that Erin Riseth had wiped out a pack of monsters on her way back to the Academy. Everyone had dismissed it as nonsense, but now Amon realized that rumor had been true.

“Milady, get on my back,” Erin said, rushing without hesitation toward the young lady.

Hearing that, Amon frowned.

“I’ll carry her.”

He couldn’t get the image of Erin’s injured back out of his head—the way she had shielded him when his eyes were closed, getting hurt in the process. And those strange wounds on her back that seemed to be healing unnaturally fast… they haunted him.

Feeling a mix of emotions he couldn’t quite describe, Amon lifted Lady Asili onto his own back.

The young lady let out a faint breath, as if even standing during their duel earlier had taken everything out of her.

The monster subjugation squad wasn’t too far from here.

If he ran quickly, maybe—just maybe—he and Erin could reach them before the horde of monsters caught up.

But after only a few steps, he realized how wrong that assumption had been.

With every step forward, more monsters closed in, surrounding them. The sheer number was overwhelming.

Can we even make it back?

Amon gritted his teeth and swung his sword.

Holding the lady with one arm and fending off monsters with the other was no easy task, even for him. And the endless wave of enemies pressing in was suffocating.

Erin cut down the creatures with astonishing swordsmanship, never missing a beat, but how long could that last?

Humans had limits to their stamina. Unless you were a Sword Master who could coat your body with mana, sooner or later your strength would give out.

What should I do?

On his back was the young lady, and in front of him stood only one injured knight cadet.

But that thought was cut short when a monster suddenly lunged from the right.

A low-level beast sprang out of nowhere, aiming straight for his forehead.

He couldn’t dodge. Realizing that, Amon twisted his body so that even if he fell, the young lady wouldn’t be harmed.

But in that instant, Erin—who had just dispatched another monster—appeared like lightning and struck down the beast in one clean motion.

Her movements flowed seamlessly, even under such sudden circumstances, and Amon found his eyes locked on her.

“Let’s take shelter over there.”

Erin, covered in monster blood, spoke to him. She pointed toward a small cave.

Erin quickly and skillfully set up a barricade at the cave entrance.

She didn’t know how long it would hold—but she didn’t need much. All she needed was a brief moment to recover her strength.

A stab of pain ran down her back, and she grimaced.

It was troublesome, having to hide her true strength just to look like a “moderately talented genius.”

In reality, she should not have been injured at all in that earlier fight. But reacting instantly to a surprise attack from a mid-level monster wasn’t something a mere “genius” should have been able to do. So she had deliberately taken the hit.

Why did the monster horde appear so early…?

Was it because she had changed the past?

Reken, who should have lost an arm, was unharmed. The swordsmanship students, who were supposed to hate the villainess, were instead getting along with her.

Was that the reason?

The future shifting was frightening… but perhaps this situation was actually a good thing.

As she pondered, Erin glanced at the frail young lady lying weakly in the corner of the cave.

Originally, before the monster horde struck, Erin had planned to defeat them alone.

Since someone was clearly targeting the young lady, staying with the subjugation squad was too dangerous.

In her past life, after the young lady’s death, the investigating mages had discovered the truth:

The monsters had been controlled by a mage of terrifying skill. Otherwise, their sudden, coordinated behavior would have been impossible.

Back then, the horde had pursued only Erin and the lady with relentless focus. It couldn’t have been more obvious who their true target was.

That was why Erin couldn’t return to the squad now either.

If such powerful monsters were being commanded and organized, they would only become harder to deal with.

And she couldn’t reveal her full power in front of others.

But if she kept pretending to be clumsy, others would surely die.

So she judged it was better to separate from the squad entirely, even if it meant acting alone.

It was a reckless choice, but the only certain solution.

Besides, Karon was with the squad. And Erin dreaded the possibility of the future unfolding as it had before.

She would not allow even the slightest chance that Karon might lose his right arm again.

She had already seen her brother’s despair once before. That was enough for a lifetime.

“Erin Riseth.”

Hearing her name, Erin turned her head. Amon, his expression complicated, was watching her.

After a moment of hesitation, he stepped closer.

It was dark now, with only the moonlight to see by.

And yet, paradoxically, Erin felt as though she was truly seeing Amon’s face clearly for the first time.

The young man, who always seemed scowling and irritable, now looked at her with a grave seriousness.

Erin usually didn’t care about appearances, but in that moment she finally understood why Amon Hedor was considered one of the Academy’s most handsome men.

His foul temper aside, his chiseled looks made him famous.

Strong build, sharp features—he was the type people called “sculpted.”

She remembered hearing someone say that even his biting remarks seemed attractive coming from that face.

Though she hadn’t understood at the time, maybe she could, a little, now.

As he tied back his black hair with a single motion, he asked,

“Is your wound alright?”

The unexpected question left Erin speechless. She had never imagined hearing such words from Amon Hedor.

He searched his uniform pocket and pulled out a small vial of medicine.

“I always carry this. It should help with the pain.”

That wasn’t like him at all. In her previous life, he hadn’t spoken a single kind word to her until the moment of his death.

To hear concern from him now felt strange.

Silently, Erin reached to take the vial.

But Amon didn’t hand it over. His face hardened as he shook his head.

“How exactly are you planning to apply it yourself? Turn around. I’ll do it.”

“Uh, but…”

“What? Afraid I’ll bite you?”

…Perhaps she had imagined the change in him. He looked as curt and sharp-tongued as always. But maybe that was a good thing.

After all, Amon was prickly toward everyone, not just her. Realizing that, Erin felt something odd stir inside her.

Was he like that before because he was worried about me…?

No, impossible.

With that thought, she turned her back to him.

Contrary to her expectation of a rough touch, his hands applying the medicine were gentle, almost cautious.

After a while, his breathing grew uneven, and his fingertips trembled.

In a low, strained voice, he asked,

“The scars on your back… who did this to you?”

“……”

“Who would dare do this to someone from House Riseth?”

Only then did Erin remember the marks on her back.

She had almost forgotten they were still there.

In the past, she had gone to great lengths to hide them—always wearing high-collared dresses, choosing long sleeves, even wearing gloves.

But after living through so many lifetimes, the memories had dulled, and she had stopped caring.

She had checked the bruises on her legs upon realizing she had returned to the past, but then let the rest slip from her mind.

Truthfully, she didn’t want to think about them anymore. They were not born from anything she wished to remember.

But that deliberate forgetting had now created an awkward situation.

Slowly, Erin turned to face him. And when she saw Amon’s expression, she found herself at a loss for words.

Even after all her lives, she still thought the knights of House Ferdin were good people.

Even toward the villainess—hated, accused of murder—they were capable of pity.

He must believe she had killed Calypso, yet his face looked as though he himself shared her pain.

His pained expression twisted Erin’s own features.

“Does the Marquis of Riseth know?” he asked.

“……”

“Answer me, Erin Riseth.”