CHAPTER 513: IF STORY - ROSWYN ACCEPT THE FLOWER (2)

0% “...My god.”

As she read through the text floating before her, shock flickered through Roswyn’s eyes.

“Frey is... the Hero?”

The semi-transparent system titled the [Helper System] held within it an utterly shocking revelation.

The Truth About the Hero

-The Truth About This World

What You Must Do“This is all... true?”

At first, she doubted it. The information contained within the system was too unbelievable to accept at face value.

“.........”

But even someone as slow-witted and oblivious as her could vaguely sense one thing—the information wasn’t wrong.

She had no proof to back it up, nor did she fully understand the nature of this phenomenon.

Yet, ever since she touched that flower, something inside her had shifted—an undeniable instinct assuring her that the information before her was real.

“Then... is that why he kept coming to see me?”

Staggering under the weight of the revelation, Roswyn desperately pieced together the reasoning.

Frey had persistently visited her to give her flowers.

And by giving her flowers, he had awakened the dormant [Helper System] within her.

No, that wasn’t the only reason.

Roswyn vividly remembered the mysterious, incurable illness that had plagued her childhood.

A curse that no doctor or medicine could cure, tormenting her for years.

That curse had begun to wane around the same time that Frey started visiting her.

“You... you saved me?”

Receiving a flower from the Hero was the only way to survive.

If the system’s information was true, then the reason he always insisted on bringing her flowers made perfect sense.

Regardless of obtaining a Helper, he had been coming all this time—just to keep her alive.

He had endured endless scorn and ridicule, countless rejections, yet he never wavered.

“.........”

Staring blankly at the system, Roswyn murmured in a trembling voice,

“Hero...”

The love Frey had given her for over ten years—it had been genuine.

“You were my Hero all along.”

Because of him, she had survived.

Because of him, her guild had flourished.

Because of him, the Empire still had a chance at hope.

“And yet... I...”

The man despised by all, branded a villain—he was the Hero she had desperately yearned for.

“...Huh?”

Just as she finally grasped the truth, biting her lip in regret, the system faded, revealing something else—something off.

“Where... is this?”

Darkness surrounded her.

What had happened?

Just moments ago, she had been in her personal office at the guild.

“Huh?”

The moment she realized she was in an unfamiliar place, her eyes snapped open.

“M-Milady!”

“You’re awake!”

Voices of her attendants echoed around her.

Still disoriented, Roswyn pushed herself up—only to realize she had been lying in a bed.

“...Did I lose consciousness?”

“Yes! For months!”

“M-Months?!”

Cold sweat trickled down her forehead.

Looking around in disbelief, her eyes landed on the calendar hanging in the hospital room.

It confirmed the attendants’ words.

Several months had passed since her last memory.

“No way...”

“......?”

Just as she began to feel drowsy again, her head spinning from the sheer absurdity of the situation, a familiar voice snapped her back to reality.

“...Have you awakened?”

“Huh?”

“The... the system...?”

Her childhood secretary stood over her, eyes wide with disbelief.

“What are you talking about? No—wait. How do you know about that?”

At first, she blinked in confusion.

Then, with sharp eyes, she narrowed in on her secretary, about to interrogate her—

- ZZZT!

“......!”

But at that moment, a golden notification flashed before her eyes.

“M-Milady!?”

“No! You mustn’t get up!”

“Please, you need to rest—!”

Ignoring her panicked attendants, Roswyn grabbed the hem of her dress and bolted out of the hospital room.

Her eyes fixated on the message before her.

WARNING

The Hero is in Critical Condition!

“.........”

For the first time in her life, her eyes held an unwavering determination.

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Meanwhile, at the first-year dormitory.

“FREY!!”

“Stop right there!!”

“...Tch.”

Clenching his teeth, Frey ignored the voices behind him and sprinted forward.

- CRACKLE!

“Ugh—!”

But just then, a fierce impact struck his side.

“Got you.”

Collapsing to the ground in pain, a dark shadow loomed over him.

“...Irina.”

The person who had landed a direct magic strike on his back.

Standing beside her, wearing cold expressions, were Clana, Ferloche, and Isolet.

“So you really were the culprit behind the first-year dormitory attack.”

“You tried to slaughter everyone staying in the dorm... You deserve to rot in hell.”

“...Move aside. I will end him myself.”

The First-Year Dormitory Incident.

The moment the main quest was about to officially begin—Frey was now facing his greatest crisis yet.

“...Hah.”

Even as he faced certain death, he let out a bitter chuckle.

And in a voice barely above a whisper, he muttered—

“How many times do I have to repeat this...?”

“......?”

“How many times do I have to go through this...?”

The pursuers tilted their heads, confused by the tremor in his voice.

“...By now, she should be making her entrance.”

As he sat slumped on the ground, exhaustion evident in his eyes—

“Young Master.”

A shadow appeared before him.

“...Why did you hide this from me?”

“......”

With red-rimmed eyes, Kania stood before him, a knife gripped tightly in her trembling hand, blocking the pursuers.

“I never knew... I...”

“...Enough.”

As the pursuers looked on in confusion, Frey staggered to his feet.

“I’m not the person you think I am. So just—“

“Let’s go.”

“......”

“From this moment forward, I will fight for you—forever.”

This was his best chance to escape.

But upon hearing those words, Frey simply... turned toward the stairs and walked away.

“You were... Frey’s butler?”

“So you were on his side all along.”

“That power—is it dark magic? You’ve fallen.”

For some reason, his expression was filled with nothing but exhaustion.

“Don’t say things like that.”

Step by step, he trudged down the stairs, his face contorting.

“In the end... you’ll die before me anyway.”

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- Crackle... Snap...

The barrier at the lobby on the first floor slowly came into Frey’s view.

“......”

Just like always, all he had to do was throw himself into that barrier, and this main quest would be cleared.

By the time he woke up next, he would be lying in bed.

Kania, expelled from the Academy, would be at his side, tending to him with devotion.

“...Tch.”

But what did any of it matter?

Before entering this cycle, he had already faced the final main quest.

All the heroines had been recruited.

Everything had been lined up in the most hopeful, most perfect conditions he had ever achieved.

And yet, he failed.

During the Academy siege, the Imperial Army and students were slaughtered mercilessly by the Demon King.

And just before he could be utterly defiled by her, he had barely managed to escape.

Even now, he could hear their screams.

The voices of those who had once reached out to him, begging for salvation, still echoed in his ears.

“It’s going to fail again anyway, isn’t it?”

The sheer impact of failing the most promising timeline was devastating.

So much so that, in this cycle—the very next one—he had made a mistake he would never have committed otherwise.

-  Crackle... Sizzle...

The curse that had struck his back from Irina’s attack was still burrowing into his bones, sending waves of searing pain through him.

Even if he reached the barrier and “successfully” cleared the quest, the outcome was obvious.

Another brutal and humiliating failure.

If he couldn’t succeed in the best timeline he had ever constructed, how could he possibly do so in this one—where he had already made fundamental errors?

“...No, maybe success was never possible to begin with.”

Doubt, a suspicion he had always pushed aside, now clawed at his mind.

Maybe victory was never in the cards.

Maybe he was meant to repeat this cycle endlessly, losing his sanity little by little.

And maybe, some unseen force was merely watching it all unfold—for their own amusement.

“I don’t want this.”

The doubt itself was unbearable, but there was something even worse.

“I don’t want this anymore...”

At some point, pain itself had become terrifying.

At first, he had resisted because of how agonizing it was.

But now, he was terrified because the pain had begun to dull.

That realization alone sent shivers down his spine.

“I want to stop.”

If this continued, he would no longer be himself.

“Just let me stop...”

The women he had once wanted to save at any cost—suddenly, he hated them to his core.

The ones who had killed him over and over again—now, he feared them more than anything.

“Capture him!!”

“Don’t let him touch the barrier!!”

His body trembled as his mind was consumed by those thoughts.

At the distant sound of approaching pursuers, his vacant gaze slowly turned toward them.

“Die, Frey!!”

They must have already taken Kania down—his pursuers were now descending the stairs, unleashing attacks at him.

“...I told you, I don’t want this.”

If their attacks struck him, he would die.

Then, he would wake up once more, back in his room, lying in bed.

“Ugh...”

And yet, before he could fully process his actions—his hand had already moved forward.

-  Tremble...

His hand, shaking violently, was now beyond his control.

Thoughts he should never entertain were creeping into his mind.

Am I finally losing my mind?

If I let go now, what will happen when I wake up next?

“...Haha.”

Fear clawed at him.

But even that fear...

Was now being swallowed by a strange, tingling impulse spreading through his brain.

“It’s going to fail anyway.”

His bloodshot eyes locked onto his pursuers.

In his vision, now drenched in crimson, he could see the faces of the people he had once loved more than anything.

Was the world always this red?

Well, what did it matter?

This world was going to disappear again anyway.

-  Grip...

At some point, he had lost all awareness of his own thoughts.

Watching the oncoming attacks, his grip on his sword tightened—

“WAAAAIT!!!”

“...What?”

A voice—one he had never heard in any of his past cycles—rang through the air.

His dazed eyes snapped open in shock.

“STOP THIS RIGHT NOW!!”

And there, standing before him—her golden hair fluttering as she stretched out her arms to shield him—was a girl.

“...Roswyn?”

The instant he muttered her name, bewildered by the unprecedented turn of events—

-  BOOOOOOM!!!

A deafening roar erupted.

A blinding light engulfed everything.

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Somewhere Else

“I said... STOP!!”

“G-Goodness!”

Roswyn bolted upright, her arms and legs flailing, as if she had just jumped out of a nightmare.

The elderly attendant beside her flinched in shock.

“Wh-Why aren’t they stopping!? When someone tells you to stop, you should listen!!”

“...Milady?”

Ignoring the panicked attendant, Roswyn huffed, trying to regain her breath.

“...Hmph. Hmph.”

“Are you alright?”

“Well... maybe it was reckless to rush in like that. But still, I thought the system would do something to help...”

As she tried to collect herself, she glanced around in confusion.

“Where... is this?”

The attendant looked at her with concern.

“Could she have lost consciousness again?”

“Milady, what has gotten into you?”

“Tell me the date.”

“Why are you asking that in the middle of the night—“

“Just tell me!”

Giving in to her insistence, the attendant lit the lamp beside the bed.

“Ah.”

Roswyn’s eyes locked onto the calendar hanging on the wall.

“...The day before the Academy entrance ceremony.”

“Yes. Though you still have another year before yours, Milady—“

“I’ve... I’ve regressed.”

“Pardon?”

She stared at the calendar, her mind racing.

Several months had been erased.

Just then—

-  Flash!

A semi-transparent window appeared before her.

Notification

The Hero is on the move.

“...Take me with you.”

Seeing those words, Roswyn’s lips curled into a radiant smile.

Destination

You.