Invincible
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#66
🕑 Added 2024-08-26 09:19:05 +0000 UTCWraith (5)
The night sky was painted as if with a brush, the moon's strokes clearly visible. The surface of the grass was uneven, as if dried oil had coated it, and the gray buildings had an unnatural brightness. The whole world appeared like a picture. This was the result of combining image-based magic that paints the heavens and earth with curse magic that manipulates the mind. And it likely included a unique type of magic unknown to me.
… Where do humans even learn such things? Is this also part of forbidden magic?
Seconds passed without a response.
"Donatan?"
Even calling his name yielded nothing. It seemed he hadn’t followed me here. Curious, I checked the system window visible on my retina.
[1-second invincibility cooldown: 57 seconds]
The countdown was the same as before Rockefeller hit my head. Despite feeling like several minutes had passed, time hadn’t moved. No, to be precise, it was flowing very slowly.
[1-second invincibility cooldown: 56 seconds]
Time in the mental realm must flow differently than outside.
To understand more accurately, I opened my status window. But nothing appeared, even though it usually did.
"What’s going on?"
Most notably, I felt a sense of freedom in my mind. It was as if the constant warm presence inside me had vanished.
'It feels like the Noble Blood Ember is gone.'
This was strange. The '1-second invincibility' was still there, but Donatan and that trait seemed left behind. It was unsettling, but I couldn’t decipher this mystery immediately. I started walking towards the building on the hill, stepping on the winding dirt path.
Yet, my pants were different from usual. Familiar texture and design. These were the dress pants I wore countless times while working at the company. The shoes were the same, and the watch on my left wrist matched my memories. I pulled my hair in front of my eyes, and it was blonde. When I touched my face, it still felt like Hersel’s. It seemed my appearance was determined by my perception, combining elements of both identities.
"Hmm."
Then, I focused on imagining myself as I was during my company days. I looked at the doorknob of the hall. In the metal reflection, my hair was black, and my face, though always handsome, now looked even more refined. Perhaps nostalgia had enhanced it.
'Well, it’s a good thing.'
I was about to enter the mental world of a woman who hated Hersel. This way, I wouldn’t be recognized as him.
Creeeak-
The hall inside resembled a long corridor art gallery. Pictures lined the walls, and the first frame caught my attention. It was an image of the infirmary at Frostheart, with familiar white beds, curtains, and tools. But the depiction on the bed was strange. It looked as if an invisible person lay there; the pillow was indented, and the blanket bulged as if covering an air doll.
Out of curiosity, I touched the painting, and my finger slipped through it as if it were a doorway to another world. Startled, I pulled back, and sounds began to emerge.
"I heard she got beaten up by Buerger Hall? Isn’t that a bubble?"
"Hmph, what’s Adelle Hall?"
"Was her family Derevian? I’ve never heard of them. Did she even learn proper swordsmanship?"
It was full of scornful comments. Somehow, the painting captured the sounds of the scene as well. I decided to look at other paintings.
The other paintings were similar to the infirmary one. Teacups floated in mid-air, or knives appeared to be cutting meat by themselves, manipulated by telekinesis. Traces of people were present, but the actual figures were missing, like edited out.
While pondering this oddity, Rockefeller’s voice echoed in the hall.
- Hersel Ben Tenest, find Leana in the paintings. She is the sole consciousness and the owner of this inner world. Do whatever it takes to wake her up and make her realize.
"I need more explanation... Professor? Are you listening? Hey, Rockefeller."
No answer. It was a one-sided instruction.
...I guess I need to find Leana among these paintings.
The task seemed daunting. The number of paintings, representing snippets of someone’s life, was astronomical. Naturally, this place, displaying each scene of a person's life in frames, looked like an endless corridor.
"Find Leana among these...?"
This was like searching for a needle in a haystack. My mind felt foggy, like I was in a dream, my consciousness floating.
***
At that moment, Leana's wrist throbbed.
"Ugh."
The sensation was akin to when she had struck a rock with a wooden sword, inspired by a knight’s tale. She opened her eyes wide, rubbing her wrist.
"Is something wrong?"
Leana's father gazed at her with concern, a fork with meat in his hand. It seemed to be mealtime.
"Oh, no, just a sudden sharp pain..."
Beside her, her mother smiled kindly.
"You must have been swinging your wooden sword late into the night again."
Her mother's voice was soothing, like a lullaby. Brushing it off, Leana tried to cut the meat on her plate with a knife, but the plating included the carrots she disliked.
"Ah."
As she scraped them off with a fork, her mother chided.
"You need to eat those too for your health."
"Okay..."
Embarrassed, Leana put the carrots in her mouth, grimacing as if eating poison. Her father watched with a satisfied smile.
"Hmm?"
Chewing a few times, Leana's eyes widened. The bitterness she hated had mellowed, making it palatable. Her mother chuckled.
"I asked the cook to change the recipe this time."
"...No wonder."
Leana blinked. Her mother had prepared the carrots so she could eat them, and her father watched, cherishing the memory. She vaguely remembered something similar from long ago.
‘Why do I feel like this happened a long time ago...?
It felt like a submerged memory resurfaced. At the same time, her consciousness floated again. Leana excused herself from the table.
"I don't feel well today, so I'll head in early."
Her parents looked at her with concern, a scene somewhat unfamiliar.
"The carrots were good. I ate them all."
Only then did they seem reassured. Leana left the table, walking towards her room.
The creaking wooden floors and the walls worn by time were familiar. She arrived at her room in their modest home, heading to her desk to continue reading a book. Passing a full-length mirror, she stopped.
"Was I always this short?"
She felt smaller than she remembered, her face seemed more mature. She touched the mirror, and a figure appeared behind her. A woman with long black hair in a vintage dress, looking at her expressionlessly.
“This memory must be getting boring too.”
"Who are you?"
"Don’t ask, remember. Who am I?"
Despite the strange reply, Leana's lips spoke the name instinctively.
“Feldira?”
"Correct."
Leana asked, surprised.
“How do I know your name?”
Feldira gently held Leana’s hand, explaining.
“You know it. You just hadn’t recalled it yet.”
"What do you mean?"
“Think of it as an old toy box. When you rummage through it for something, you find things you forgot were in there, right?”
Leana blinked, not understanding. Feldira smiled.
“You can pull out memories you want to recall. This is your world, after all.”
"Pull out? What are you talking about...?”
As curiosity about Feldira grew, a fact flashed through Leana’s mind. This was an invading thought in her head.
Leana’s eyes filled with caution.
“What have you done to me?”
Feldira shrugged.
“What could I do? I’m not even a living being. Can the wind harm you? Can an earthquake harm you? Such expressions don’t fit.”
"But if you had to define it, you should have said, 'Why did you help me?'"
More memories surfaced for Leana. When she briefly regained consciousness in the real world, she saw injured professors, and her hands held a bloody sword. All of this happened after being taken over by Feldira.
“You took over my body, and you call it helping? Don’t make me laugh.”
"Well, I need something in return, right? But don’t worry. I’m just borrowing your body until I create my own. I’ll return it in good shape.”
Feldira chuckled, and Leana clenched her fist, approaching.
"Give it back now.”
“Do as you like. As I said, this world is yours, not mine. I’m just here talking to you.”
Feldira pointed to a door.
"Go ahead, leave if you want. This is your inner world. You can do it if you wish.”
Leana opened the door without hesitation. Feldira followed, whispering.
“But you’ll have to pass through painful memories.”
“......"
Crossing the threshold, sweat droplets flew. Leana was swinging a wooden sword.
A voice came from the side.
“Don’t swing a sword if you’re a girl.”
It was Hersel, sitting on a rock. Leana’s mouth automatically replied.
"If it bothers you, I’ll do it elsewhere.”
“Wrong. What I want is for you to stop wielding a sword altogether. Even if you give up here, you’ll swing it somewhere I can’t see, right?”
This scene was their first meeting, and the start of her misfortune.
…So, these are the painful memories.
Leana smiled faintly, thinking of Feldira.
"I’ve overcome memories like these."
“Sure, sure. Then move on. Keep wishing for the reality you desire, and an exit will appear."
Feldira waved her hand dismissively. Leana squinted, focusing only on escaping.
The next scene was her learning to dance in a dress, her father watching sternly.
“How many times do I have to repeat myself?”
Her father scolded when she made a mistake. Leana frowned, bitterly commenting.
"It was hard, but it’s no big deal."
“Sure, sure."
The following memories were similar. She secretly bought armor and a wooden sword with saved money after all the swords in the mansion were disposed of. Her father burning the knight storybooks she cherished, making her cry. Her parents’ constant arguments. Hundreds of days that gnawed at her spirit passed quickly, reaching the most recent memory.
"I finally made it."
“...This is."
The setting was the Adelle Hall dormitory. Leana held a letter from her father in her room. She clenched it tightly, seeing it only mentioned Hersel.
Letting her body act on its own, Leana watched herself mimic past actions.
"I was foolish to expect anything."
Next, she would look at her sweat-soaked clothes and head to the shower.
"Ah."
After the shower...
“Why are you in my room?”
A woman was in her room, holding her armor.
"...Put that down."
Leana approached menacingly.
Crack!
The armor crumpled like paper, and a sharp pain pierced her heart. The engraving inside, her constant support, was crushed. The steel that had been her pillar turned into mere scrap. The intruder threw it out the window like used tissue.
“My armor...."
The thread of her reason snapped. Leana lunged at the intruder, not caring about the glass shards on the floor, her eyes hollow. She threw a punch filled with emotion. But the intruder moved faster, landing a kick to her abdomen, making her kneel.
"Ugh!"
Leana stood up, wiping blood from her mouth. She grabbed the wooden sword from the wall, swinging it. The intruder dodged effortlessly, hitting her wrist with a palm strike.
Thwack!
As she looked at the sword stuck in the ceiling, a knife-hand strike hit her neck.
Whack!
Her consciousness faded, and the next memory was the smell of antiseptic. The white furnishings and fabrics indicated the infirmary. Struggling to rise, sharp voices pierced her ears.
"I heard she got beaten up by Buerger Hall? Isn’t that a bubble?"
"Hmph, what’s Adelle Hall?"
"Was her family Derevian? I’ve never heard of them. Did she even learn proper swordsmanship?"
The intruder was from Buerger Hall...
Leana felt the blood drain from her face.
Were the calluses on her hands all an illusion?
…If this is the result, what was all my effort for?
The cost of her stubbornness hit her.
“If this is how it’s going to be..."
She had lost so much. If she had put down her sword and listened to her father, she’d still have so much. Tears of regret trickled down her cheeks.
Drip.
A tear fell on the blanket, and Feldira sat beside her, looking sympathetic.
"Buerger Hall’s third-year. A perpetual failure. She always blamed herself for being stuck. Yet, even she trampled you."
"Your peaceful family is in ruins, and this is the result of your stubbornness. The sense of loss is overwhelming, isn’t it? But you must accept it. This is the result of your efforts."
Leana looked up. This woman was the cause of it all. Anger surged as she strangled Feldira.
“You did this! You broke my armor! You controlled that woman! It’s all your fault!"
She shouted, teeth clenched, hands squeezing tight.
“So what? I was just the trigger. If you had truly achieved something, you would have won. And if you had been wise, who knows? Your parents might not have fallen apart."
Feldira continued calmly.
"Take out your anger if it helps. Break my neck or throw me out like your armor."
"?!"
Suddenly, it felt like déjà vu.
This had happened before. Leana remembered doing this countless times already.
“...How many times?”
"Ah, you remember? This gets boring after so many repeats."
It was pointless. Leana loosened her grip, and Feldira straightened her wrinkled collar.
"But really, is counting the number important? What matters is whether you want to leave or return to that time when everything was perfect."
Feldira stroked Leana’s cheek sympathetically.
"I understand. We have a lot in common. You wanted to be acknowledged through the sword, right? Your father praised you for that once. I was the same. I studied magic harder to be recognized by my beloved mentor. But I was condemned, locked away, and abandoned."
Feldira smiled bitterly.
"But I don’t resent my mentor. If I get a body, I’ll live like I did during those happy times. I want to fill my empty heart that way."
Leana looked at Feldira with cold eyes. Feldira’s gentle gaze returned a spark of life to her.
“You already have something precious. Are you going to abandon it? Happiness is already within you."
Leana closed her eyes. If she wanted to forget her loss, she could return to that time. Everything was perfect and comfortable back then, without painful memories...
As she focused on her parents' smiles, a man's voice caught her attention.
"Nice words."
Plain shoes crossed the threshold of the infirmary.
A man in nondescript clothing and a white shirt with no individuality adjusted a long cloth hanging from his neck.
"But this nasty woman uses good words so cruelly."
This man’s appearance felt unfamiliar. Feldira’s bewildered expression confirmed it was their first encounter.
“Who are you?”
Feldira asked, and the man introduced himself.
"Ah, sorry for the late introduction. Nice to meet you. I’m Her... ahem, my name’s not important. Mind if I sit?"
Leana nodded, taken aback. The man pulled a chair and sat down.
"I overheard your conversation outside. It was quite interesting. The topic is whether to stay in the happiest moments or live through a miserable reality. Right?"
Leana, thinking deeply, nodded again.
"Then, may I join this debate?"
Feldira glared at the man.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
"Just as you did, hush."
The man gestured to Feldira to keep quiet, looking at Leana.
"Don’t worry. Think of this mean lady and me as the devil and angel on your shoulders. You just decide whose opinion you agree with more."
He then pointed at Feldira with a mocking grin.
“You be the angel. I’ll graciously let you have the good side, even though you look like you were made by Satan.”
Leana blinked.
‘What’s this?’
The man leaned back leisurely.
"Let’s start with the angel’s opinion."
"Leana, don’t listen to him. Ignore him and let’s go back."
"Such harsh words. Back where?"
“...Do you think I’ll answer you?”
"Seems you’re unprepared. That’s why you’re stuck from the start."
Intrigued by their bickering, Leana decided.
"I want to hear it, Feldira."
Feldira frowned at the absurdity but had no choice.
"Fine. I’ll play this stupid game."
She sighed deeply and started.
"My opinion hasn’t changed. The moment you longed for is within you. Why take the long way around?"
The man replied.
"Because it's boring. Going in circles gets dull, doesn't it? Even your favorite snack gets tiring after a month."
Feldira scoffed.
“You only know half. You return without remembering. I’ll make it feel new every time.”
The man chuckled.
"Help? Like giving someone dementia?"
Feldira yelled.
"What do you know! There are memories people want to forget!"
“Of course. Everyone has them. But what can you do? That’s life.”
“Hmph, if you talk so casually, it must be trivial. That’s why you can say such things.”
The man shook his head.
"It’s less painful to joke about it. That’s why satire is popular across ages. And don’t belittle others’ bad memories. They’re painful to them, no matter what they say."
Realizing she was losing, Feldira turned to Leana.
"See? He’s telling you to endure it without offering any real solution. Isn’t that irresponsible?"
Surprisingly, the man agreed.
"True. That’s why life is often said to be painful."
“Right, so leave it here and let’s go back."
"Not a bad idea, staying in the happiest time."
“See? Even he’s given up.”
But Leana had already made her choice.
She would rather stay in the perfect past than face the painful future.
Imagining the good times, she closed her eyes, but the man spoke.
"But remember, satisfaction there means having already satisfied, not finding new satisfaction."
Leana glared at him.
"I’ll be satisfied with that time."
The man looked deeply into her eyes.
“Really? So, were you a knight in those memories?”
"?!"
A cold chill ran through her, her skin shivering, and her head ached like being hit with a hammer. The forgotten reality dawned on her, her eyes widening.
"Ah..."
It was unfulfilled dreams that she still yearned for. Goals unmet, absent from her memories.
If she had accepted her father's wishes, she could have pleased him. She could have refused her mother’s offer to join Frostheart.
Yet, she refused because...
“Staying or leaving is your choice. I’m heading out.”
The man exited the infirmary. Leana rubbed her wrist, recalling the pain from striking a rock inspired by knights...
***
Back in reality, Leana peacefully slept. Professors sighed in relief, lying down from exhaustion. Rockefeller, head held high, looked down at me.
"Well done, Hersel Ben Tenest."
My head throbbed where he hit me, and I frowned.
“Do you have something against me?”
"Hush. Step back. I’ll handle the rest.”
Rockefeller raised his staff. Floating above was the hideous remnant of Feldira.
Finally, the end of this wretched spirit was near.
“But shouldn’t you professors handle this without asking a student for help?”
“...Be quiet.”
