TVWD 80

Chapter 80

“Hmm? The star moved.”

At the sound of the child’s voice, the old man looked up at the sky.

“A star blessed by the dragon, I see.”

“You mean that person who loves Rosia?”

The massive gear that was first affected by the screw trying to free itself from its place in a tightly-woven world.

A being with power strong enough to be called one of the pillars of the world.

The world, which always tries to maintain the same flow, always killed and erased those who had enough power to shake the story.

That way, the twisted flow would not stray further from the predetermined narrative.

“Will he survive this time?”

“Well, who knows?”

At Lachesis’ question, Clotho let out a soft laugh.

“Seeing him live would be fun, but if he dies, that would be entertaining in its own way.”

“You really have a bad personality. If the child blessed by the dragon dies, think of how devastated Rosia will be.”

Rosia’s tears are far too sorrowful.

Lachesis pouted her lips.

Dozens of times she returned, crushed by agonizing hardship, yet she never shed a tear—until she faced Lexian’s death.

The soundless scream of Rosia, biting her lips and swallowing her sorrow alone, would sometimes reach even the goddesses who spun fate’s threads, cutting through countless other noises.

“You told the child with the reversed star fate to come often on purpose, didn’t you?”

The child born with the fate of a reversed star—Crown Prince Jacques.

“Hoh hoh hoh.”

Seeing Clotho only laugh, Lachesis let out a sigh that didn’t match her baby-like face.

“Do you really want to torment Rosia that much? You’re so mean.”

“We must be fair to those who seek change. And whether bringing that child is tormenting Rosia or not… we’ll have to wait and see, won’t we?”

“Fairness, my foot. If we go by that logic, shouldn’t we be fully helping Rosia, who got stuck in the cycle of reincarnation for no fault of her own?”

Lachesis snorted.

“Besides, Rosia can’t stand the sight of that boy. If that’s not torment, what is?”

“Even things that seem useless can be valuable depending on how they’re used. Of course, only those capable can use them properly.”

“What?”

“You’ll understand when you see.”

Clotho gently stroked Lachesis’s head as she wore a puzzled expression.

Ignoring even Rosia’s long-awaited invitation, Silla headed to a small village on the empire’s eastern edge.

A middle-aged man was said to live there who hadn’t used fire, eaten anything but roots, or bathed in anything but cold water for 30 years. Silla had assigned a subordinate to watch him.

After three years of observation, Silla—convinced the man was unusual—came in person.

The man, who had been training his body and mind deep in the mountains and pursuing enlightenment, collapsed the moment Silla approached disguised as a woman.

“Another waste of time.”

Seeing the ascetic cling desperately as she tried to leave stirred her killing intent, but she quickly lost interest.

“Well, if it were easy to find, I wouldn’t be going through all this.”

Silla kicked the ascetic off a cliff and came down.

“I expected better from a living sage. Maybe it’s faster to find a true lunatic than someone pretending to be clean.”

Since she was already in the east, she sought out others on her list of strange people, but found nothing.

“I thought I’d have better luck among mages if I was looking for someone with a screw loose.”

Mages obsess over mana, magic, and research to the point they’d sell their souls.

What kind of person could be even more insane than a mage obsessed with magic?

“To think I’m going this far to find that ‘screw’—Am I the crazy one?”

Even if she found the screw, nothing would change. Yet a mage’s nature could not resist curiosity.

Messing her hair, Silla headed north.

Step, step, step.

After walking a long way down a pitch-black passage, she reached a place filled from unfathomable depths to an endless ceiling with countless gears.

“You’ve been coming often lately.”

Silla didn’t answer. She instead looked for the screw she always checked.

“It’s sticking out even more than last time. The angle’s tilted more.”

While she wasted time above, the screw continued to struggle, desperately trying to escape the fate that pinned it.

Knowing it was useless, Silla still shot flames at the screw—to help it break free.

Flames that could have burned down a village vanished instantly as they left her hand.

She summoned fierce winds, yet the air in the space didn’t move at all.

“Tch.”

Silla sat down.

“When will the screw fall out? A month? Or a year?”

“I do not know.”

At the elder’s carefree reply, Silla ruffled her blue hair in frustration.

“Uuuugh, I want the screw to fall out and watch the world crumble already!”

“The world won’t suddenly change just because the screw falls. The screw itself is very small and insignificant.”

“So a gear that big has to fall for real chaos to begin?”

“Yes.”

Poor screw.

Even though it struggled tens—hundreds—of times harder than those gears, the effect it could have was tiny.

If she were the screw, she would have given up long ago.

“A screw is just a screw.”

“But if the screw comes out, won’t the gears slip?”

Thinking the old man was belittling the screw, Silla bristled.

“Yes. A tiny screw it may be, but if it pops out of the place it holds, this solid world will tremble and someday collapse entirely. It will change.”

“I hope that day comes quickly.”

“But the screw may die before that.”

“What?!”

Staring blankly into space, Silla jerked upright.

“Didn’t I tell you? The world wishes to keep its flow. It sees anything trying to change the predetermined story as ‘evil’—and does not forgive it.”

Despite telling such chilling things, the elder chuckled.

“Even now, the world is hell-bent on killing that screw.”

Who could that screw be?

If she knew, she’d help with everything she had.

Silla felt like posting a notice: “Seeking the screw.”

With the tagline: “The Tower Master will support you fully in turning the world upside down.”

“What happens if the screw dies?”

“Who knows.”

“Wait… you said the screw stuck out that much after many attempts…”

She had thought “many attempts” meant it did strange things over and over.

But what if the screw had died many times and been reborn?

A thought flashed across Silla’s mind.

“Why do you stop talking?”

The elder’s tone was as calm as always, yet Silla felt a chill down her spine. Instinct warned her, but she shrugged it off.

“Oh right, old man. Something weird happened to me.”

“Heh, aside from seeing this place, it’s the first time you’ve used the word ‘weird.’”

“It really was weird. I ran into someone, and whenever I face them, something orders me to do things.”

The elder suddenly fell silent.

“It’s not magic or a curse, but a voice in my head tells me, ‘Be kind to that person. Take their side.’ It annoys me, so I ignore it.”

“The power the world granted that child no longer affects you… So the world will move even faster now.”

“So what is it? Does he have some special ability?”

Silla shook the elder’s cloak, but he didn’t budge.

No matter how hard she pulled, it felt like trying to move a massive boulder.

After failing to topple him, Silla sprawled on the floor.

“Honestly, there’s nothing weirder than being able to control people without magic or hypnosis.”

Her yellow eyes sparkled with anticipation.

“Could that be the screw?”

The elder slowly turned his head toward her.

Though his face should have been inside the hood, Silla could not see it at all—only a deep, dark shadow.

What would she grab if she reached inside, she wondered with a twisted grin.

“If that person truly is the screw… what will you do?”