Love Letter From The Future

“I’m in a state similar to ‘Jenga.'”

Archbishop Einadel began to speak, responding to my request for a more detailed explanation.

Soon, before him were rectangular wooden blocks that had been carefully arranged. They were stacked neatly, forming a tower, which was one of the common games in the continent.

The person who causes the tower to collapse by removing the blocks one by one in order loses.

It was a simple rule, but since it was related to my life, I felt a chill run down my spine.

“Now, a tower filled with blocks is very stable. Removing a few blocks won’t significantly threaten this stability.”

Of course, exceptions exist.

I didn’t bother to probe the meaning of that addition. If the blocks located at the base of the tower were removed, the balance would be broken instantly.

In any case, it was not particularly relevant at the moment.

Archbishop Einadel didn’t seem to want to spend much time on this either. He simply continued to remove the blocks from the tower with calm gestures.

“Every power comes at a price. Especially skills like ‘vision’ are equivalent to the essence of a life lived, and naturally, to master them, one must relinquish a part of their mental image.”

“Are you saying that ‘part’ is the wooden block?”

“Is that too cheap a metaphor? Well, I just happened to mention ‘Jenga’ since it was right here, but there are many similar examples. For instance, an alchemical pot stuffed haphazardly with powerful magical ingredients…”

“Could we get back to the main topic?”

At my request, the priest nodded without hesitation. He too was a priest, and he had likely witnessed the feelings of terminally ill patients by the side more than a few times.

The old man conveyed the stark facts without a single complaint.

“Ian, your mental image already contains far too many visions. In other words, it’s like a tower with most of the blocks removed, barely maintaining its shape.”

“But there haven’t been any problems until now…”

“No one knows how the tower will collapse. Not until it actually does.”

Crash.

One by one, the blocks being removed finally caused the tower to collapse completely. I was left feeling something indescribable as I looked at the scattered wooden blocks.

Was it chilling? Or was it more like a sharp pain?

Archbishop Einadel continued in a solemn tone.

“An individual who has reached high expert status, or is an archmage, is greatly affected by their mental image. It’s similar to how a master’s body becomes identical to their mental image. Therefore, if the mental image collapses, your body will follow suit. You will bleed it out.”

“Are you saying it’s due to having reached the level of high expert?”

“To be more precise, it’s because you’ve learned too many visions. Otherwise, you would have never reached the level of high expert in the first place.”

That’s true.

There had never been a case of someone like me rapidly growing in skill in such a short time. It must be due to borrowing too much power from ‘myself’ from the future.

Now it was just time to pay the price.

As I swallowed hard and leaned back in my chair, Archbishop Einadel added further explanation.

“Thus, no matter how many times you try to fix it, the body will inevitably collapse again.”

“Can’t we manage to survive with continuous treatments?”

“That’s impossible. It’s too late.”

With that, Archbishop Einadel began stacking the wooden blocks again with his wrinkled hands.

Unlike before, he awkwardly created gaps, leaving spaces in between the blocks.

The outcome was obvious.

Crash, and once again, it collapsed.

“The collapse of a tower that has already begun to shake is inevitable. Even if treatment is repeated, once the mental image completely collapses and the body reaches death, no one can intervene.”

“What’s the timeline for that…?”

“About a month. Looking at your body, that’s the estimate.”

His tone while discussing my death was calm.

It felt as if not a glimmer of hope remained.

I covered my face with my hands and sighed. If I said death didn’t scare me, it would obviously be a lie.

But more than that, I was terrified of what would happen after I died.

Who could possibly stop the Dark Cult?

Even I, who knew the future, had to sacrifice countless lives to stop the Dark Cult. A world where ‘I’ was not a variable could never stop them.

Wasn’t the result the scenery I had seen in my dreams?

The earth stained with blood and corpses, all kinds of monsters feasting on human flesh, a world stripped of laws and ethics.

Suddenly, the vision of bleeding women flashed like lightning in my mind.

Would my precious ones die that way too? I couldn’t accept such a future.

The grip of my hands that had been covering my face involuntarily tightened. As if to leave marks with my nails on my skin.

My lips, unable to give up the final shred of hope, began to tremble.

“Still, if I keep looking for a way…”

“That’s impossible. I’ve told you that your body will collapse no matter how much you treat it. Moreover, wasn’t it Saint Luciana who treated you before?”

That’s right. Before Archbishop Einadel, it had been the saint who had personally treated my body, which had become a ragged mess.

She was the woman who had bonded with me before the Heavenly Deity.

Naturally, she would have devoted herself to healing me. Yet, regardless, my body collapsed once more.

The overly clear conclusion entrenched itself in my mind.

“If you’re still doubtful, I could send a message to Saint Luciana…”

“That’s enough.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, I raised my hand to dismiss Archbishop Einadel’s suggestion.

The priest squinted and pursed his lips, as if about to relinquish the speaking privileges to me.

“How many people know about this fact?”

“First, I’ve informed the Imperial Court. Soon, the heads of each country will know too. Your existence is that special.”

That was a reasonable argument. A special being had to face a special death.

For the sake of the ripple effect it would have across the continent, the leaders of each nation needed to know about my death. From Archbishop Einadel’s reaction, it seemed he hadn’t informed the saint yet.

My mind became chaotic.

What if this fact were to spread?

I couldn’t even fathom what kind of chaos would ensue. Especially if my lovers heard the news.

The fragmented thoughts found their end at that point. There was no point in worrying, as answers wouldn’t simply appear.

I only thought about Archbishop Einadel.

He was one of the most suspicious figures. After all, Leorick’s dying words had warned me to be cautious of him, so it was only right to harbor wariness towards him.

Yet he didn’t seem to be lying right now.

He was a seasoned politician who had been in the political arena of the Holy Kingdom for decades. It would be unthinkable for him to tell a lie that could easily be uncovered.

Surely the Imperial Court would also try to confirm the facts immediately.

Anxiety, conflict, turmoil.

My brain overheated at once, and I felt a slight headache. No matter how much I pondered, I couldn’t find an exit.

I resolved to stand up.

I had to go somewhere. Perhaps I would finally see a path.

As it had always been.

With such fuzzy expectations, I turned my back.

“…Is it okay not to inform anyone?”

The priest’s question that caught me again made my eyes glance back over my shoulder.

He was looking at me with deeply sunken blue eyes, yet no reflection existed in those pupils.

That peculiar gaze felt as if it was piercing into my inner thoughts, making it anything but pleasant.

“Death is not something one can bear alone. Naturally, those around you will become involved too. You should share your worries with them and sort out the time you have left, shouldn’t you?”

A reasonable argument.

No space for probing existed. At the very least, the old man had likely spent a long time contemplating how to deal with death, more than I had.

Logically, it was a sensible story. Yet, for some reason, my lips continued to twitch.

I ended up turning my head away coldly.

“I’ll handle it myself.”

With a chuckle.

It was then that the priest first let out a laugh. My mind was already complicated enough, and in a fit of anger, I turned my head again.

I saw a cold flame. Whether it was passion or vitality, it was nestled within the old man’s pupils.

“Ian Fercurus, you see…”

Then the slight curl at the corners of the priest’s lips.

Before long, a gentle smile appeared on his face. As if saying what I had just seen was all a lie.

“How arrogant.”

Arrogant?

It was a statement that didn’t merit a response. Finally, I turned my head again and began to walk. I didn’t know where to go, but I would go wherever my feet took me.

For now, that was it.

It was time to look for Celin.

*

And so, before me stood a one-eyed figure who had lost limbs.

In a makeshift office, the woman, looking at the documents, wore a bewildered smile as she exclaimed, “What?”

“I asked you to be the bait, Senior Shiene.”

For a moment, my unimpeded reply left Senior Shiene speechless.

She set her quill back in the holder and, crossing her arms, looked at me with an expression of sheer disbelief.

Eventually, she uttered a calm remark.

“You’re insane.”

It was a critique I hadn’t heard in a long time.

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