Those who have lived through war should know all too well—peace always comes at the cost of some sacrifice.
If it hadn't happened this time, it would only have happened the next.
Only pain that cuts to the bone leaves a mark deep enough to be remembered, pushing people to grow.
"You can save them for a moment, but you can't protect them forever. They need this kind of trial to truly grow," Zebul said, stating her view.
"But…"
"This kind of growth doesn't have to be paid for in lives…"
"I could have stepped in the moment they realized their mistake and driven the pirates out."
"Not… let it end in death."
"That price… is far too high."
Elliot's words left Zebul momentarily without an answer.
Indeed—
When the pirates had reached Watatsumi Island…
When the truth had come to light for everyone…
He could have struck then, destroyed the pirates, and the villagers still would have learned their lesson.
Death didn't have to be the path to growth.
"But this didn't happen because of you. If you hadn't been here, the consequences would have been even worse."
"You've already saved the vast majority—why not focus on them?"
Unable to counter his reasoning, Zebul tried persuading him from another angle.
"General…" Elliot said quietly.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Have you ever heard of a Lonesome Transcendence?"
"I bear that fate. Anyone who gets close to me will suffer misfortune."
Elliot could convince anyone else that every person had the right to happiness, that no one was born to live alone—
but he couldn't convince himself.
Perhaps… he was the one destined to walk through life alone.
Maybe he shouldn't get too close to these people. It would be enough to remain in the shadows, silently guarding the safety of the island.
When he thought about it like that—
He realized he had only known Orobashi would attack Yashiori Island, so he waited there in advance.
But what if it wasn't that he foresaw the disaster…
What if the disaster came because he was there?
Perhaps he hadn't predicted calamity at all—perhaps calamity sought him out.
He didn't know. He couldn't be sure.
So he could only assume the worst.
"Lonesome Transcendence? You have a Lonesome Transcendence…?"
"But I, Kitsune Saiguu, Chiyo… none of us have been harmed."
Hearing that, Elliot still believed in the fate he carried.
It wasn't that they hadn't been touched by it—only that they weren't mortals, so it had taken longer to reach them.
The Khaenri'ah War had already been destined to take everything.
He would not let history repeat itself.
In past lives, he had also borne the Lonesome Transcendence, yet nothing like this had happened.
He could only conclude that this time, because the body he inhabited—Sasayuri—was under divine protection, his fate's power had been amplified.
What he never considered was that, even if he weren't here, the pirates might have still come. The tragedy might have still unfolded.
He placed every bit of blame squarely on himself, never once thinking about the actions of others.
Plenty of people go to great lengths to avoid responsibility—
but those who take it all onto themselves… are rare.
"They may not have come this time, but that doesn't mean they won't in the future…"
"General, give my position to Jin Tai. I believe he's more than capable of handling it."
"I'd like to leave for a while…" Elliot said tiredly.
Zebul's eyes widened in shock at his words.
And it wasn't just her—the people of Watatsumi Island stood frozen.
The man who had once lifted a hundred thousand jin with a single arm now looked as fragile as an old candle flickering in the wind.
"Leave…?"
"What do you mean?"
"Where will you go?!"
Zebul stepped forward, her tone firm and serious.
"Where…? I'm not sure."
"Somewhere no one can find me."
"But I'll come back, General."
"I'm just… tired. I want to rest for a while."
His eyes were clouded, like a pool of murky water.
"Last time you said you just needed a rest… and when you came back, you'd nearly died and lost an arm."
"This time, you came to Watatsumi Island to rest… and when I saw you, the light was gone from your eyes."
"Next time… will you lose your life?"
Her eyes were red now, tears flowing freely down her cheeks.
In her whole life, she had rarely cried—yet in just these few months, she had cried twice for him.
Elliot stepped forward, wrapped his arms around her, and gently patted her back. His voice was warm.
"No, General. I'll come back. I promise."
"You… can't you… please don't go…"
The dignified god of a nation was crying like a child in his arms.
"I'm so scared… so scared you'll sacrifice yourself again for someone else…"
"Can you… come back to Narukami Island with me…"
"The war's over… why do you still have to push yourself so hard…"
"Come back… I'll make you fried tofu…"
Hearing this, Elliot gently brushed the tears from her cheeks, a tender smile on his face.
"General, I'll come back. Believe me…"
"Alright?" he asked softly, with a faint smile.