It took us four days to reach the Kingdom of Heliz, four long days of rattling wheels, dust-stained roads, and the endless sway of the carriage. Yet now, as the ironclad gates of the outer walls finally came into view, I felt something unusual—a fleeting calm.
The kingdom was still at peace. The banners fluttering along the parapets were untorn, the cobbled roads unmarred by siege. The people who walked beyond the gates carried baskets, fabrics, and children in their arms, not weapons. I still had three years before all of this would shatter—before the princess would be abducted, and the cult would begin their quiet encirclement of this land. Three years, and the wheel of tragedy would turn again.
"Hey, Hanzel! We're already close, aren't we? To our new home?" Anne exclaimed suddenly, leaning forward with childlike eagerness. Her dark hair shifted as she swayed in her seat, her hands gripping the window's edge as though she might climb out just to catch more of the sight.
"Yep," I said, my voice steady, though my eyes were elsewhere. "Are you finding this kingdom enjoyable?"
"It's great. I'll finally be able to start a new life here." She beamed as she pressed closer to the window, her reflection layered against the image of the bustling road. Merchants shouted, children laughed, and the smell of roasted grain drifted faintly through the open slats of the carriage.
I let her words linger. A new life… For her, maybe. For me, Heliz was no fresh beginning—it was a graveyard in waiting. In all the countless cycles I had endured, I had never truly settled here. At best, I had stumbled into these streets as a nameless refugee when war devoured everything else. Seeing it now, untouched and unscarred, was like inhaling air before the storm broke—a brief, cruel reminder of what would be lost.
The carriage wheels clattered against stone as we crossed the drawbridge. Soldiers in polished steel stood at attention, their spears crossed briefly before the royal insignia on the carriage doors earned us passage. Anne's eyes widened at every detail—the painted mosaics along the archway, the lined-up markets spilling colors across the road, the laughter of children weaving between the crowd.
"Look at this, Hanzel! Isn't it beautiful?" she whispered, as if afraid raising her voice might shatter the scene.
Beautiful. Yes. That was the tragedy.
Our carriage continued to climb through the main avenue toward the district where the mansion awaited. The road stretched forward, and for Anne, it promised a beginning. For me, it marked the countdown to another inevitable end.
The carriage wheels creaked over cobblestone, the rhythmic clatter echoing softly through the quiet outskirts of the capital. The road had grown smoother the farther we went, framed on both sides by blooming trees and neatly tended fields. The air was different here—clean, free from the smoke and blood I had become so used to across lifetimes.
Anne pressed her face closer to the glass window, her eyes wide in wonder. "Look at this place, Hanzel. Even the farmers wear smiles."
Her words carried a warmth I hadn't heard from her in a long time. In most lives, by now, I would already be burdened with loss. Seeing her so carefree made something tighten in my chest.
"Enjoy it," I told her quietly, though the weight of my memories shadowed the words. Three years. That's all we have before the noose begins to tighten here, before the cult moves.
The carriage turned past a stretch of hedges, and the road opened onto a hill. At the crest, nestled beneath the shade of tall oaks, was the silhouette of our new home. The manor was built from pale stone, its windows catching the late sunlight, its gardens already lined with flowers I didn't recognize. It wasn't the grandest estate I had seen in my endless cycle, but it radiated something better—tranquility.
Anne gasped, her hands clasped to her chest. "That's… ours?"
The driver pulled the horses to a steady halt before the iron gates. I stepped out first, boots meeting the gravel path, and offered Anne a hand down. She stumbled slightly, then laughed, eyes still fixed on the manor.
"Yes," I said, letting myself bow my head slightly toward the gates. "For as long as fate allows it, this is our home."
And for the first time in countless lives, I allowed myself a moment's silence—standing before the mansion, its doors wide as if welcoming us in, knowing full well the storm that would one day come to shatter it.
The great oak doors swung open with a low groan, revealing the soft glow of lanterns waiting within. The air carried the faint scent of polished wood and freshly baked bread, a welcome so gentle that even I—used to darker welcomes in countless past lives—felt its embrace.
Anne stepped inside first, her eyes darting across the high ceilings and wide hallways. The floor was a smooth marble, veined faintly like rivers frozen in stone, and the walls bore tapestries of serene landscapes—mountains, rivers, skies untouched by war.
Servants lined the entryway, bowing as we entered. Their smiles weren't the forced masks of nobility's staff but genuine, as though they had been waiting for us.
"Welcome home, young master, young miss," an older woman said with a voice like warm cloth.
Anne turned to me, her face radiant. "Hanzel… it really feels like a home."
Her words hit me deeper than she knew. I had carried her through death and fire, through timelines where her laughter was snuffed out before she could even dream of safety. And here she stood, glowing, free of fear, if only for a moment.
She rushed ahead, peeking into rooms with childlike wonder. A dining hall set with polished silver. A music room with a harp gleaming by the window. Even the staircase seemed to delight her, its banisters carved with winding roses.
"This one! This one will be mine!" she exclaimed as she flung open the door to a bedroom. The walls were draped with soft blues, the bed wide and covered in white linen that still smelled of lavender. She spun around once, arms open, as if she could claim the whole space with her joy.
I leaned against the doorway, watching her. For the first time in longer than I could count, her smile looked unbroken.
"Yes," I said softly. "It's yours."
And as she collapsed onto the bed, giggling like a girl free from all the shadows I knew too well, I allowed myself a small smile. For tonight, at least, the mansion was not just stone and wood. It was sanctuary.
I went to the library room to find some needed books.
"Young master, may I know what you are searching for? I can request more books if you are unable to find what you need," a gentle male voice came from behind.
It was one of the servants—Charlie.
"Sir Charlie," I greeted with a nod.
"Is there a book here about artifacts and also magic orbs?" I asked.
"I believe there is a shelf dedicated for them. Allow me to show you."
Charlie led me deeper into the south wing of the library, his steps calm and practiced. The scent of parchment grew heavier here, the shelves stacked with rarer tomes. He stopped before a tall case filled with leather-bound volumes.
"Here, young master," Charlie said, carefully running his fingers along the spines before pulling out a set and placing them on the reading desk nearby.
"Thank you," I replied, and he bowed lightly before stepping aside.
There was a reason I needed these books.
First of all—I am not an awakener. My body lacks the mana system that others are naturally born with, which forces me to rely on artifacts to survive. And artifacts, no matter how simple or grand, cannot function without a core—magic orbs.
Magic orbs are created from residual mana left behind in the world, sometimes condensed naturally into minerals, sometimes harvested through alchemy, each variation holding different levels of purity.
Of course, they're not cheap. I could buy one from the high-class market, but that alone would cost a fortune. And I can't exactly burn through all the money I earned from those ridiculous chicken duels.
I let out a faint chuckle at the thought, then focused back on the books before me, ready to dig into the knowledge I would need for what's to come.
The Clock is ticking now.