A time traveler is no different from a stranger.

They are instinctively rejected by others in unfamiliar places where they have no one to rely on.

The difference is that an ordinary stranger at least has the option to build connections from the start, but the Dorosian of the future did not have that option.

At least not on this timeline.

There is another person here with the same name and face.

That person is both herself and not herself—the rightful owner of this timeline.

One wrong move, and the future she wishes for may never come.

That’s why, unless in special circumstances, she never reveals herself.

The aching loneliness is soothed only a little by projecting familiar faces into the orb.

‘Right, back then, Ares didn’t have a scar on his face. Ah, so that’s Roan. I get now why people said they died well.’

Watching her comrades and family, the longing eases just a bit.

‘Arshian’s personality is the same. No wonder she never got married till the end.’

But the strange sensation that accompanies it is unavoidable.

They are not the people in her memories, even though they look and act exactly the same.

The smile of fondness quickly faded, and Dorosian felt a tightness in her chest.

‘Right, the ones I knew…’

She is a time traveler who fled just before the world ended.

That reminder stirred painful memories to the surface.

The sensation of their blood touching her cheeks.

The moments when eyes filled with duty dimmed and went out.

And when she fled to the distant past, her shoulders trembling and her breath ragged.

‘Damn it.’

She tried to shake off the memories, realizing too late her mistake.

Just like that time, Dorosian began to hyperventilate, cold sweat running down her face.

Irte, who had been watching, asked.

“What’s wrong all of a sudden?”

“...Just a seizure.”

She forced out the words, but her breathing grew heavier again.

Irte, being merely a spirit, couldn’t help her physically, so he sighed and asked the room.

“Hmm, what was it she did at times like this?”

Dorosian closed her eyes.

‘At times like this…’

First, picture the pond.

It’s a pond in a corridor lined with unusually shaped flowers and two stone chairs.

Then, recall the feeling of the warm hand resting on her shoulder.

It wasn’t rough, but neither big nor small—just a man’s hand.

—If you have nowhere to go, you can stay here.

By the time she remembered the voice, her breathing had already calmed.

“Phew...”

Dorosian wiped her sweat with a handkerchief and opened her eyes.

A seizure brought on by trauma is a small price to pay for the shock she endured.

That’s why she must treat it as nothing serious.

“I’ve never seen you like that before.”

Irte looked at her curiously.

Dorosian disliked the reality that this was the only one left to soothe the loneliness that remained in her sense of loss.

“What’s that expression about?”

“There’s just... stuff, Irte.”

Once the brief commotion settled, Dorosian caressed the orb.

This time, it was Hersel’s turn to be seen.

But his background looked eerily familiar.

It was unmistakably the same museum she had just seen.

‘Is he in the same place as Arshian?’

Dorosian felt an ominous sense about it.

The museum and Artus.

Later, Lilot would say that the one who released Artus was none other than Bamal...

‘This isn’t good.’

Dorosian watched Bamal through the orb.

He was walking toward the exit.

She thought he would just leave without incident—but only for a moment.

Bamal’s poised gaze was fixed on Hersel’s back.

Her hand suddenly clutched her staff.

***

As a gust of wind swept away the dust, shattered floor fragments and a few exhibition items caught my eye.

As someone who had wondered how the unseen playable characters were doing, I found the outcome somewhat satisfying.

Well, the awakened Artus would be deemed the museum’s responsibility for their poor management, and there were witnesses, so they couldn’t deny it.

Things would likely be wrapped up that way.

With that confirmed, I figured I’d better get out of there.

After all, I’d been secretly observing from afar, and nothing good would come of being seen by Lilot or Arshian.

I was just about to tell Bellman to leave when— Donatan’s urgent voice rang in my head.

‘Duck now, Hersel!’

I wondered what could be happening, and just then, my hair swayed slightly.

At the same time, a system window popped up.

I immediately guessed who was behind this, having seen it once before.

[Threat detected. Type: Time Stop]

[One-second Invincibility activated.]

The only one capable of doing this was undoubtedly the Dorosian of the future.

I guessed that during this short time, the future Dorosian was watching from somewhere nearby.

And then, in the frozen world, I saw Bamal’s hand slicing the air in a knife-hand strike.

It was aimed directly at my cheek.

Before I could even process the thought, my body moved reflexively.

In that moment, the one-second invincibility ended, and time resumed.

Ffft!

A thin trail of blood bloomed on my left cheek, stinging with sharp pain.

But I couldn’t fully focus on the pain.

This situation alone was already confusing enough.

What made it more baffling was the faint whispering voice that tickled my right ear.

“If you want to live, let it hit you.”

It was Dorosian’s voice.

The future Dorosian must have stayed by my side briefly just to deliver that line.

I didn’t know why, but for now, Bamal was the priority.

“...What are you doing?”

With irritation, I spoke, even burning through the last remnants of noble blood.

Bamal chuckled awkwardly.

“Ah, my apologies. I heard something about you from Arkandric and got a bit playful.”

Was it really such a simple reason?

Regardless, I felt it best to step back for now.

He was part of ‘Eye of Eternity,’ a group close to the final boss.

And as the headmaster of the Academy, confronting him wouldn’t do her any good.

“Please be careful next time. I’m not fond of such jokes.”

“Ho ho, I’ll make sure it never happens again.”

He gave an apologetic smile and left.

Standing still, I gathered my thoughts.

What had only been a suspicion before could now be considered confirmed—

The future Dorosian definitely knew about the 'One-Second Invincibility.'

The fact that she deliberately asked me to get injured in front of Bamal is proof.

If she hadn’t known, she wouldn’t have used time stop to put me in a cooldown state, and would have just watched Bamal’s hand bones break.

Knowing is one thing.

But why did she need to act that way?

Until now, even if I defended myself using “One-Second Invincibility” in front of others, it was just dismissed as having a high level of indestructibility.

It’s something I experienced countless times.

But it’s as if she’s telling me that Bamal would think differently.

In short, revealing “One-Second Invincibility” in front of Bamal is a deadly secret.

Just as Dorosian knows about the ability, Bamal likely knows as well.

The fact that he’s a reincarnator who has lived for thousands of years only makes it more believable.

Someone who has lived that long must possess knowledge on a completely different level than someone with a normal lifespan.

He might even know more about the ability than Dorosian herself.

“Are you all right, Hersel?”

Bellman handed me a handkerchief.

It wasn’t a deep wound.

Once I wiped it, the bleeding stopped.

“I thought he was a gentleman, but that was unexpected.”

While Bellman muttered to himself, I let out a sigh of relief.

Thinking over what had just happened, it meant that Bamal had been wary of me, and Dorosian helped lift that suspicion...

Realizing I had almost died made me not want to stay here any longer.

“Let’s go.”

I tried to leave.

But it seemed the recent commotion had drawn someone’s attention.

A woman was striding over.

Ah, right.

Lilot.

“Came to spy on us, did you?”

I shook my head.

“No.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“Is there anything else to do besides looking at exhibits?”

She snorted, as if my answer was ridiculous.

“You?”

…There it is again, that thug prejudice.

“Fine, say I came to spy. What exactly do you think I’m trying to uncover? What value do you think there is in you watching exhibits in a museum?”

As I calmly replied, Lilot instead pointed to me as the one responsible for this whole incident.

“Was it you who woke the mummy?”

“Why would I do that?”

“To test my skills.”

“You think I know how to revive a mummy?”

“You might. Maybe you got help from someone.”

I didn’t even feel like responding anymore.

No point debating something so baseless.

Even if I shouted all day that I didn’t have an accomplice, the suspicion wouldn’t go away.

If she wants to go on a witch hunt without proof, let her.

“Think whatever you want.”

I noticed Arshian staring straight at my face.

Even if we’re on opposing sides, she’s still a professor at the academy.

I gave her a polite nod and turned away.

Her gaze didn’t feel right.

Considering her personality and those shadowy eyes, I had a feeling she’d pull something during her duel with Wisdom...

***

“This should shut Gillum up too.”

In the end, it was all a misunderstanding.

Bamal believed the boy’s feats were simply due to his strength.

There was no such ridiculous concept as invincibility at play.

Because the ambush had been near-perfect.

His skill level was once high enough to be called a Sword Saint.

He hadn’t made a sound.

Even before the air split from his knife-hand strike reached the target’s eardrum, it had already grazed the peach fuzz on his skin.

Yet the boy reacted.

Like a spot-the-difference puzzle, his foot had subtly shifted back half a step, and his body had turned at a slight angle.

‘I didn’t even see him move. I can’t begin to guess the level of his agility and reflexes.’

Considering his age, his accomplishments were absurd.

Of course, there are always exceptions, and he happened to be one.

“...”

Bamal sensed it.

That this one would be a pain in the neck—just like always.

***

“Well, that’s how it went. I’m not really sure about the cause.”

“N-No, actually. It was our job to figure out the cause, and we were out of line. Thank you for explaining, Professor Arshian.”

Arshian and Lilot explained what happened to the museum staff, then left.

The sky was already painted with sunset hues.

“Professor, since we’re out, shall we get dinner?”

“Again?”

“Yes.”

“You’re shameless.”

“You’ve got plenty of money.”

As they walked toward a decent restaurant, Arshian asked Lilot her thoughts.

“What impression did he leave?”

“Who? That thug?”

“Yes, that thug.”

Lilot paused to think, then answered.

“Didn’t I already answer by calling him a thug? Should I have called him a punk instead?”

Arshian smirked.

“So, you don’t like him.”

Sensing something ominous, Lilot took a step back.

“T-That’s true, but…”

“Should I make him your sparring partner?”

Lilot tilted her head and asked.

“If I say no, will you not do it?”

“No. I’ll still do it.”

“...Why him, of all people?”

Arshian replied with a dull expression.

“Just because.”

She wanted to see that man fall before her little sister.

If she had to name a reason, it was that she wanted to see Dorosian’s twisted expression.

Also, after getting a closer look at his face, she realized that despite being a thug, he was annoyingly good-looking.

‘Rotten on the inside, wrapped in a shiny package.’

She had the nerve to be younger and yet got into a relationship faster than she did.

That was what bothered Arshian most.

“Is that even possible?”

“Of course. Just throw around the family name and bribe the right people. Easy.”

“Professor, I think you’ve got a really nasty personality…”

“My dear, the world is already crooked. That’s why concepts like right and wrong exist. If everything were fine, we wouldn’t need to draw such lines.”

Lilot grimaced and thought to herself.

Arshian really was Dorosian’s older sister.