Love Letter From The Future

Will

To. My beloved, Ian Fercurus

Spring is just around the corner, but it seems that spring does not wish to wait for me. How many years have passed since the day we first met?

Has it already been a little over 3 years? If only a little more time had passed, I could have filled that number and left.

I never imagined you would become my last remaining attachment. In fact, until a year ago, we were nothing more than moderately close acquaintances. However, as with everything that flows, a small catalyst merely changed us.

I was a little surprised to learn your truth. Although it was a truth I heard in a dream.

Knowing the future is a blessing, but at the same time, a curse. I understand that now. The fact that your body is unstable is not solely due to your vision.

How painful it must have been.

These days, when I close my eyes, unfamiliar scenery appears. It has been this way for some time, but recently, I sometimes feel as if I might faint even without dreaming. When that happens, I hear the shadow whispering to me.

Just give up.

You must have been just as hurt and tormented, right? Therefore, I am indifferent.

Rather, I am grateful that I can die for you. The life of a worthless girl who deserved to die anyway could become the only sacrifice that can save you, who has become a wreck.

For having been able to become your lover, for having been able to kiss you, and for all the miraculous encounters beyond that.

I sincerely thank you. God.

Tonight is the last night.

Though I am fainting now, when you open your eyes again, you will be reading this letter. Please do not feel guilt just because I am not there.

You have done enough.

You lost a precious person, and while struggling to save me, you are now unable to bear it and have fallen asleep. Even after spitting blood and fainting several times.

Yet everyone is saying there are no options left.

If there is a single lingering regret, it would be that I wanted to hear your voice one last time.

So, I leave this greeting, even if just through a letter.

Goodbye, Ian.

I loved you, and I still love you. Tonight, I will pray for you.

May your wishes come true.

If you feel inclined, please place spring flowers on my grave, so that the day we met can be commemorated.

From. The peasant girl who loves you

In the Empire Year 565, on the twenty-eighth day of the Month of Snowflakes

—-

I read the text in silence for a while.

My hands, which trembled as if I would drop the letter at any moment, soon became calm. I scanned the lines repeatedly, embedding each character into my mind.

‘Will’

The meaning behind those two characters was all too clear. After all, it was a confession in the letter itself.

Someone is dying.

Who on earth?

It was a meaningless question. From the moment I saw the tidy handwriting, I could not help but think of a particularly determined peasant girl.

The date written at the end of the letter penetrated through the gaps of my thoughts.

“Empire Year 565…”

Something is different.

The letters that had arrived until now had come from the future, seven years ahead. Yes, since the year has changed, should I call it six years into the future now?

That year is Empire Year 571.

Clearly, there was a difference in timeline with the letter in front of me. Most importantly, if it’s the Month of Snowflakes, isn’t that the date the calendar is showing right now?

I hurriedly grabbed the calendar in my hand. Despite being in an unfamiliar space, it was not difficult to find the calendar placed on the table by my bedside.

‘The twenty-eighth day.’

It did not take long to calculate the remaining time. There were only about three weeks left.

In other words, this letter came from three weeks into the future.

Realizing this, my body impulsively tried to get up, even though I did not yet know where I should head.

It was not a long letter to begin with. The information contained within was quite minimal.

What on earth is happening?

Just as I was about to tremble with such questions.

“Are you awake?”

Startled by the calm voice, I turned my gaze filled with confusion.

The source of the sound was an old man.

His white hair and beard seemed to tell how long he had lived. Furthermore, his restrained demeanor and the worn priest’s robe draped over his frail body subtly revealed his usual character.

A clergyman.

He looked so much like a typical priest that one could easily depict him in a portrait for a dictionary. However, there was one unsettling aspect—his presence.

I had not noticed him.

Even after entering through the door, stroking his beard, and speaking to me.

While I hesitated, unable to guess his identity, the old priest quietly moved.

There was not even the sound of fabric brushing against each other, a total silence.

Additionally, the tranquility of his prayers was impressive. Could he have been a martial artist who underwent extensive training?

As my gaze began to take on a wary light, the old priest broke into a slight smile.

“There is no need for such wariness. For the time being, I am in charge of your treatment.”

“Who on earth are you…?”

“Do you not know?”

The reply to my question was a counter-question.

I could only be bewildered. He seemed like a complete stranger, and yet he asked if I did not know him.

Could he be that famous?

But even among the most distinguished figures on the continent, it is rare for detailed facial features to be known widely. Unless one were a leader of the various nations, few people would recognize them by appearance.

If so, there was only one remaining possibility.

It meant that we had met somewhere before. Though I had no recollection of it.

When I maintained my silence, the old man’s mouth curled into a slight smile.

“Did we not meet from a distance? Although it was very brief.”

At that moment.

A memory struck me like lightning. The Holy Kingdom’s City of Siendel, where an elderly man had stood with his arms crossed on a peak, boasting an imposing authority akin to a sheer cliff.

“Could it be…?”

“That’s right.”

Before I could even vocalize the name that had just come to mind, the old priest readily confirmed it.

“I am Archbishop Einadel, Sir Ian. I have heard about your heroic deeds more than enough to make my ears ache.”

Archbishop Einadel.

I had heard that name long ago. It was last year when I heard that he was leading a faction opposing the Lady Virgin Saint.

However, upon hearing the old man’s name, I subconsciously narrowed my brow.

It was the same ‘Einadel’ as the name I had heard at the end of the battle with Leorick in the North.

“Be wary of Archbishop Einadel.”

That was Leorick’s dying wish. For someone who was still remembering that, he was undoubtedly a suspect.

Despite my negative reaction, Einadel did not appear to take offense.

“Please do not be too wary. This is a statement made as a priest after all. Above all, we will need to be comrades for a while.”

“What do you mean?”

“The artifact discovered in the Haster Clan’s gold mine.”

A topic that pierced my mind like a needle.

A faint groan escaped my lips. I had been momentarily dazed by Emma’s will, but the immediate problem was not only the will from the future.

Celin, my childhood friend.

She was the one designated as the infamous figure of the Alphenhausen Clan. I had no idea what she had done, but it seemed true that her strength had grown to a level beyond what anyone had previously imagined.

Otherwise, she would not have been able to single-handedly destroy the Golden Fortress of Alphenhausen.

The ‘artifact’ mentioned by Archbishop Einadel was deeply connected to my childhood friend. It was none other than the object that had resulted in the ruin of the Haster Clan’s territory.

My skull throbbed with pulsating pain. Meanwhile, Archbishop Einadel continued his explanation.

“The Empire has designated you as a special investigator, Sir Ian. Though it may be difficult, I would appreciate it if you could carry out at least some of that duty.”

“And how many days have I been fainted?”

It was a question thrown instead of an answer.

I had been the one who looked at the calendar immediately after reading the letter. Naturally, I knew how many days had passed, but the intention behind my question lay elsewhere.

The existence of the ‘me’ from the future.

Emma’s will contained no hastily scrawled notes. In other words, while I had been unconscious, there might have been nothing done by the ‘me’ that came from the future.

And soon, my suspicions became reality.

“You have just awakened, so roughly you have been unconscious for about two days.”

It was exactly in line with the gap I had remembered.

It seemed that I had not gotten up to wander around on my own volition during those two days. If so, does that mean I cannot expect help from the man?

A flood of various problems rushed forth, breaking the dam of my thoughts. They were conundrums too difficult for me to bear.

I had to find a strategist.

The Lady Virgin Saint, Shi-en, and my friend Reto.

Any one of the figures floating in my mind right now would do. I felt an urgent need to share my concerns and seek help from anyone.

Otherwise, I feared I would not be able to endure it.

As I attempted to rise once more, Archbishop Einadel calmly asked me.

“Are you leaving?”

“Yes, urgent matters have come to mind.”

He did not seem keen to stop me.

It was a rather negligent attitude for a priest in charge of my treatment. If it were the Lady Virgin, there would have already been chaos.

For me, this was better. I had no desire to entrust my body to someone I could not trust.

Just then.

“Then allow me a few moments more. There is something essential that must be conveyed.”

“……?”

Caught off guard by his sudden request, I paused and directed a gaze filled with questions at him.

Something essential that must be conveyed?

My childhood friend has turned into an enemy of humanity, and my lover is just before death—could there be any more urgent matter than this?

Just as I was about to say to save it for later.

“Ian Fercurus.”

With an overly serious expression, the old priest spoke.

“You are going to die.”

My gaze, which had been directed forward, turned blank once more.

What is he saying?

Is this some sort of murder threat? But with the old man’s solemn demeanor, it did not seem like that.

He did not look like a criminal. Well, maybe he could be a priest.

And this made it even harder for me to understand.

“In fact, within a month.”

“What do you mean…?”

“This is my insight as a priest.”

On what grounds could he say something so definitive?

Before my lips could even twitch to refute, the old man’s wrinkled hand rested atop my shoulder.

His eyes shone with a blue flame. They were the kind of eyes that held strong conviction, allowing no room for doubt.

“Please cherish the remaining time you have.”

On that day, I became a person with a deadline.

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