The man spoke in a languid tone, utterly devoid of tension and completely at odds with the situation. Sarah, on the other hand, was on edge, probably because he was still holding his sword.
She wished he would simply declare that he had finished dealing with the villains and leave. Instead, the man tapped the iron cage with his bloodstained sword and ordered,
“Come out.”
Who would come out in a situation like this?!
She wanted to shout those words at him, but her body had already obediently begun crawling toward him.
Moving as slowly as possible, Sarah kept her gaze lowered to conceal the fact that she was an immune, the very trait that had sent the slave traders into a frenzy. As she approached the bars, she caught sight of his black leather shoes stepping over the corpses and bowed her head respectfully in gratitude.
“Thank you for saving me…!”
She had barely spoken when the man caught her chin and forced her head upward.
Their eyes met, and Sarah’s heart gave a heavy thud.
Not because he had discovered she was an immune, but for an entirely different reason.
“……”
Her bewildered gaze slowly traveled over his face.
From his flame-red hair to his eyes, which held the cool green of a meadow, and finally to his lips, cold as a winter sky.
It was a familiar face. Impossible, and yet…
Clang.
At that moment, her trembling vision fractured. Hundreds of scenes appeared simultaneously across the shattered fragments. The pieces hung suspended for an instant before—
“……!”
The next moment, they came raining down on Sarah like a meteor shower.
The shards, each containing a vivid scene, pierced deep into her mind. Most of the images rushing into her consciousness were unfamiliar, but among them were a few she recognized.
The empire’s golden palace, a peach tree heavy with fruit, white wildflowers, the stench of blood on a gruesome battlefield, crimson flames consuming corpses, and a man staring at her without expression—
As she caught a fleeting glimpse of her past self, Sarah let out a low gasp.
The scenes flashed past so rapidly that she could scarcely keep her eyes open. Amid the images flooding her mind, the same person appeared again and again. Sometimes he was an infant, sometimes a young man, and sometimes a boy.
Strangely, however, the jumbled scenes began arranging themselves in chronological order within her mind.
And Sarah understood.
What was pouring into her was the man’s time.
The seemingly endless passage of time was more than Sarah could bear. From a certain point onward, the scenes flashed past so quickly that she could no longer make sense of them.
Overwhelmed by the sensations, Sarah’s vision spun.
The torrent of time that had engulfed her finally released its hold, plunging her vision into darkness.
“……”
What was that just now…?
The cracks vanished, and her vision returned to normal. Sarah blinked and touched her face. Although her eyes once again saw the present, her mind was still struggling to comprehend the time that had surged into her. Her eyes felt strangely hot and unfamiliar.
One thing, however, was certain.
She had just glimpsed the man’s time.
She had no idea how it was possible or why it had happened, but the knowledge had settled in her mind as an undeniable fact.
Still bewildered, Sarah looked again at the man standing before her.
Blood-red hair, eyes the green of a meadow, and lips set in a cold, rigid line.
Just as when she had first seen him, his face was familiar.
The difference was that she now knew exactly who he was.
Unconsciously, Sarah formed his name with her lips.
Enoch Soser.
The revolutionary who had driven the Holy Sword straight through her heart.
The hero who had killed the wicked black mage, Sarah Rosenbaum.
“……”
Confronted with an encounter she could never have anticipated, Sarah froze in shock.
How is he still alive?
Three hundred years had passed, yet Enoch Soser remained as young and handsome as she remembered.
That alone was astonishing, but even more absurd was the fact that the first person she had encountered upon returning to the mortal world was the very man who had sent her to hell.
Of all the faces I could have seen first…
The moment she recognized Enoch Soser, sensations long buried in the depths of her memory came clawing back to life. Instinctively, Sarah clutched the place where the sword had pierced her heart. Although the blade was no longer there, she could still feel its chilling edge slicing into her flesh.
Once one memory resurfaced, the others came flooding back like water through a broken dam.
Then came the searing, burning pain. The stench of blood lingering in her nostrils. The blade of the Holy Sword gleaming brilliantly in the sunlight. And at the end of the path illuminated by that light stood Enoch Soser.
Every detail returned with startling clarity, as though it had happened only yesterday. Although she no longer practiced black magic, the place where the Holy Sword had struck her still ached.
Remembering her unpleasant end, Sarah frowned as though she had seen something she wished she hadn't.
“……”
Just then, Enoch tightened his grip on her face and roughly turned her head from side to side. His touch was so forceful and ungentle that her jaw hurt.
What on earth is he trying to confirm?
Enoch examined her meticulously—her eyes, nose, lips, left cheek, right cheek, and even the underside of her chin—before finally letting go.
“…Ha.”
Then, as though something amused him, one corner of his mouth twisted into a smirk.
…Is he laughing?
For some reason, Sarah felt as though he were mocking her, which irritated her immensely.
But the real insult was still to come.
“To think I’d see this face here.”
Enoch muttered the words almost to himself, barely moving his lips, his voice tinged with disbelief.
He… recognizes me?
Sarah’s lips parted slightly in shock. She had never imagined that, after so much time, he would still remember her face.
“It’s unlucky.”
With that dismissive remark, Enoch let go of her as though discarding an object he had finished inspecting.
“……?!”
Sarah stared after him in disbelief as he straightened up and turned away.
From the moment she had first laid eyes on Enoch, Sarah had been thoroughly bewildered. It was not merely the shock of encountering him here. He had beheaded a man without a second thought and was now treating the person he had saved with utter indifference.
And despite being the one who had grabbed her face, Enoch brazenly wiped the hand that had touched her on his clothes, as though he had gotten something filthy on it.
Seriously, how unlucky.
At this point, anyone would have been offended, not just Sarah.
Perhaps he heard her incredulous scoff, because their eyes met again.
Enoch looked down at her with an expression of complete disinterest. His cold green eyes held a mixture of habitual boredom, disdain, and faint irritation. Yet his lips curved into a slight smile, as though he were enjoying himself.
His eyes were sharp and threatening, while his mouth was smiling. The two expressions were utterly at odds, but his strikingly handsome features almost made the result look pleasant.
Nevertheless, seeing that smile on the face of a man who had just decapitated someone was deeply unsettling.
It was like facing an unstable madman, someone who might do something truly dangerous at any moment.
Was he always this unhinged?
Perhaps that was why.
Although Sarah was certain of his identity, the man before her felt strangely unfamiliar.
What sort of man had Enoch Soser been?
He was the sort who would protect even the weakest of his enemies, including citizens of hostile nations. He avoided unnecessary killing whenever possible and insisted that even wrongdoers deserved a chance to repent. His principles were so unwavering that they were almost irritating.
He spent what little personal wealth he possessed helping the less fortunate, aided those in trouble without expecting anything in return, and never exploited his fame for personal gain.
He was a knight of justice, bestowed upon the world by the heavens.
To those who had suffered the ravages of war, that was the man Enoch had been. The overwhelming praise he had received for his almost fanatical devotion to justice was no exaggeration. Sarah knew that better than anyone.
How well did she know it? Well enough that, when she heard he had become the wielder of the Holy Sword, she thought it only natural.
Such was the steadfast, unyielding nature of Enoch Soser’s virtue.
But now, three hundred years later…
“……”
Sarah glanced back and forth between the headless corpse on the ground and Enoch, who stood looking down at her.
His indifferent expression, as though he had merely crushed an insect, bore no trace of the righteous knight he had once been.
Sarah narrowed her eyes and studied him.
Was this slave trader really such a terrible villain? Or had the passage of time finally taken its toll, dimming even the brilliance of Enoch Soser’s once-unshakable virtue?
“Captain!!”
At that moment, a group of people burst through the tent opening and rushed toward Enoch.