Ah, it's so pleasant to be right.
Elion walked behind the general of the human camp with a satisfied smile on his face. It was still dark outside; the sun had not yet risen above the horizon.
"How did you know it would happen?" Yon asked as they walked.
"I told you, I'm a time traveler."
The old man didn't respond. Given recent events, it wasn't entirely out of the question that he was telling the truth—but it still felt far-fetched.
The security system didn't lie. A massive explosion had shaken the ground not far from here, and the High Lord's clones guarding the human camp had retreated. Now would be the perfect time for the Sun Army to withdraw. Even if they attacked the Earth God's base with everything they had, they didn't have the firepower to bring it down.
High Lord Sara was simply too strong.
But for Yon, retreat was a total disgrace. Calling off the strike, as the young psycho suggested, seemed senseless—unless, of course, he truly was a time traveler who had already seen the siege end in disaster. Even then, if Elion could truly travel through time, he might just be using it to manipulate them.
Yon really didn't know what to do.
That was exactly what Elion had guessed by reading the old man's face.
"What are you thinking about, big guy?" he asked.
"Refer to me as Commander Yon," the general said sternly.
"Whatever." The young psycho shrugged. "Now that I've proven my point, we don't have much time until the High Lord comes back. You need to pack up and leave."
The other officer walking beside them grimaced at the way the young psycho addressed the general.
"Show some respect," he commanded.
Elion smirked playfully.
"Of course, O General of the Sun. Such a high title does merit the utmost respect," he said in a mocking tone, bowing awkwardly.
"Enough!" Yon sounded exasperated. "Call in every officer. We will hold a meeting to decide what to do."
Elion jerked his head up.
"We don't have time for that. The lives of all your soldiers are at risk. It won't take long for the High Lord to see through the ruse." His tone sharpened.
Yon glared at him, though a hint of hesitation flickered on his face.
That's right, just say the magic words.
"We can't…"
Goddammit! Is it really that hard not to stop yourself from sacrificing all the men who trust you?
Elion sighed.
I really didn't want to use such a cliché move…
"Think about your wife, Sir Yon." His expression softened into concern, as if the subject truly mattered to him. "What would Helen say when your corpse is brought back? You know what happened when your son was killed on the front lines—how devastated she was."
That was the last resort Keill had told him about. She had done some research on her targets before Lord Chronos sealed the world in his spell. With some experimentation, she'd found the quickest way to turn Yon's hesitation from a seed into a full-grown forest.
The general stopped, his fist clenching.
"How… do you know that?" he asked, his voice losing some of its earlier strength.
"Because I've seen it happen. I'm from the future, remember?" Elion put on his best performance. "I knew your wife. I know what your death will bring. And I don't ever want to see it again."
His hands trembled, his face sunken.
Man, I really am the best actor. I should star in a movie sometime.
After a tense silence, Yon asked:
"How did you know her exactly?"
"She… you know how charitable she is. She picked me up at my lowest—saved my life when I couldn't even speak." He lied through his teeth.
He hoped his choice of words would explain away his odd language and maybe even his psychotic behavior, feigning trauma.
Yon frowned.
"How was I never informed of that?"
Elion met his eyes.
"You've been gone too long. Has it been a year since you left to help with the war effort? Since you learned your son had been killed on the front lines?"
"Enough. Don't talk about him."
The general's face showed real hesitation now.
He's probably wondering how I'd know all that if I were lying. Time to drive the last nail in the coffin.
"Helen… after your death, she asked me not to do anything. But I couldn't. I didn't know you, but I saw how it broke her. And when she killed herself… I just couldn't—" His voice cracked.
Yon's eyes narrowed in horror. He was completely taken aback.
"That's why I'm here. That's why I made a deal with the God of Memories and Time—to save you, Sir Yon."
The general stayed silent. Even the officer beside them didn't dare speak.
Elion maintained his sobbing façade masterfully.
It was technically a lie, but there were enough clues for Yon to believe it. If the old man died, Helen would have lost both her husband and her son in quick succession. Following what Keill knew, Helen had already been depressive when Yon left for the war.
"Prepare for the retreat. I'll call off the strike on the Earth God's secret base," the general said at last, hands still trembling.
And that's how you prevent a war.
Elion didn't smile, not wanting to break his act, but he was inwardly delighted.
The other officer protested, but Yon didn't hear it. As the highest authority in camp, no one contested his order.
In no time, the whole camp was ready to depart. Tents came down, exo-armor roared to life, and strange vehicles hovered half a meter off the ground.
Elion went to find his best buddy.
"Hey! Gelato!" he shouted, sprinting toward the grumpy soldier.
Gelato's face was the priceless sight Elion had longed for. The perfect mix of annoyance and fear.
"Why are you here?" the soldier blurted bitterly.
"Why am I here?" Elion feigned offense. "To see my best buddy, of course!"
Gelato stared blankly.
"Ready to depart, my frigid friend?" the young cook asked cheerfully.
The soldier didn't answer, opting to ignore him again.
You know full well that won't save you!
"I decided to spend my time with you instead of the crazy old man. Honestly, he's scaring me," Elion admitted, using Gelato as a conversational wall. "He's been acting weird since the retreat started. I won't say I have nothing to do with it, but it's still creeping me out."
Gelato raised an eyebrow.
So now it interests you, huh?
"Don't worry about it." Elion waved dismissively.
"What did you do to Sir Yon?" Gelato's tone was almost threatening.
"Me? Nothing at all. Who do you take me for? I am powerful—but your general? He's something else."
"Stop the bullshit!" Gelato snapped. "What have you done to the comman—"
He didn't finish. Elion had stepped forward. Something shifted in the air—barely perceptible, yet all too familiar to him.
"Run away," the young Unlocked commanded.
"What are you—"
He didn't finish that sentence either. Elion intercepted an onyx blade with his own sword.
The High Lord hadn't withdrawn all her clones.
The soldiers froze, faces turning pale.
"Run away, you fools! I'll take care of her!" Elion shouted.
That shook them from their trance. He turned to Gelato, smiling like a friend ready to embrace his own death.
"Remember me, Gelato. Tell my tale to your children and grandchildren. Let my name be known—I, the great Unraveling Light, will hold the enemy back even if it costs me my life!"
Gelato didn't even look back. He just raised a middle finger and ran.
Heartless bastard.
Elion shook his head, focusing on the old friend who'd decided now was the time to take his head.
It took a strike to graze his cheek, but he eventually slipped back into rhythm as he had countless times before when fighting Miss Shadow.
"What a nice surprise to have you here," he said, dodging a fatal blow. "Now I can finally take care of the skeleton in my closet—at least, the clone of one."
He dropped back into his eccentric dance.
"Last time, I promised to make you bleed," he said with a disturbingly gentle smile. "I'm here to keep that promise."
The young psycho did his signature backflip that he was so proud of—then the world turned black.
"Don't think I don't see you," he mocked, cartwheeling away from an unseen blade. "No seriously, what you did to me was fucked up. I'm not one to hold a grudge… well, that's a lie—but you get my point. You deserve what's about to happen to you."
He kept up his ridiculous waltz until sound, like sight before it, vanished.
Alright, let's do this.
Just like last time, he dropped his sword and surrendered— hoping her experience at the base wouldn't changed her reaction. It was a risky move; last time it earned him a long vacation in torture town. But hesitation meant failure, so he pushed all useless thoughts aside.
Hopefully, the prospect of finding that Myrrhiel character would be enough to keep her from killing him immediately.
As the sword fell into the grass, he dropped his right arm quickly, catching a hidden knife he'd stolen from the human camp earlier. Even with his ability, he couldn't sense her exact position—the dense shadows seemed to block him.
He stabbed forward— aiming for the spot where she had been the last time he surrendered.
The move was lightning fast. He'd barely slept during his planning loop with Keill, knowing his tired body would reset after four days. That gave him plenty of time to practice his moves. Combined with countless failed attempts against Miss Shadow, Elion had become a formidable swordsman.
They say failure is the mother of learning, and death is the greatest failure in battle—something I've tasted way too often for my liking.
Much to his relief, the knife met resistance. He drove it in as far as he could, his other hand snapping up to seize something solid, holding it tightly in place.
He twisted the blade, feeling flesh give way.
A yelp of pain broke the silence.
The shadows fell away, revealing a sight that warmed Elion's heart. He was holding the High Lord by her single horn, her masked face inches from his own. The knife was lodged deep in her throat, spilling shadow instead of blood.
Miss Shadow tried to swing her blade, managing to stab his side, but her strength was already fading. She couldn't break free. Smiling like a deranged butcher, Elion decapitated the High Lord's clone.
"Told you I'd make you bleed," His grin you'd wear right before you burn down your own house just to make a point.