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Chapter 254: The Hero Who Would Co to Save Whenever I Cried

For Rast, that journey into the cave in search of Emis was nothing more than a small fragnt of his childhood life in Canaan.

Losing his parents from a young age, the boy who grew up raised collectively by the adults of the small town, out of gratitude for others’ kindness and out of admiration for the knights in the fairy tales he read, sincerely yearned from the bottom of his heart to beco a “Friend of Justice.”

Caring for the elderly, helping won look after newborn infants, lending a hand when shops were busy, joining the adults to search the mountains when children went missing…

Although these were all trivial matters of daily life, hardly worth ntioning, Rast had, at the re age of six, already begun to put this ideal into practice.

And when he found the missing Emis in the cave, stayed with her through that long, miserable night, and awaited dawn until the flood receded and the adults arrived to rescue them—such things, to that black-haired boy, were nothing more than a tiny reflection on his path toward his ideals, nothing he considered particularly special.

But for Emis, it was different.

On that starless, rainy night.

In that dark, cramped, damp, and chilling cave.

In her heart, Emis made a vow—that she would forever protect that boy, until eternity.

Even when the border town was later destroyed in the disaster of temporal collapse, reduced to ruins and erased from existence.

Even when Rast left her side, losing most of his mories, going far, far away. Only in rare fleeting instants, in the intervals where Nightworld and reality overlapped, within that illusory dream… could Emis see that boy again, once more feel the warmth of clasped hands and close touch of skin.

Yet she still held steadfast to this vow.

Thus, even when the aftereffects of temporal collapse grew unbearably agonizing, even when overdoses of painkillers no longer worked, leaving her tortured and writhing in the hospital bed, Emis never once cried out in pain.

Thus, when Sister Grey proposed to her the “Artificial Angel Project,” a path fated to be full of suffering and darkness, Emis accepted without hesitation.

Thus, no matter how excruciating the pain, how full of confusion and cowardice her heart might be… she never revealed the slightest of it before Rast. Instead, she always maintained that fabricated guise of gentleness, strength, and resilience.

All for the sake of not burdening Rast—who had already lost his mories—with additional weight upon his heart, and so that in the mories they rebuilt together, Rast would always see her as the most perfect and excellent version of herself.

All for the sake of one day, being able to reunite with that boy in the future.

But now, at last.

This persistence, this constant pretense of strength, was finally nearing its end.

Emis could feel that most of her spiritual world had already been devoured completely by the will of the Judgnt Grail, by the embodint of the Order of the World.

Both her angelic powers and her mories had been taken away in large part.

That Judgnt Angel, born after devouring her soul, mories, and emotions, and possessing an identical outward appearance to her own, had already fully seized control of this body and her inner world.

Though Emis had carefully hidden away the most fundantal parts of her spirit, her soul imprint… along with her most precious mories with Rast, burying them deep within the innermost recesses of her spiritual world—in the ruined border town of Canaan, within that little cave which held such special aning to her—

It was, after all, nothing more than clinging to a fragile breath.

No matter how pitifully she struggled, no matter how tightly she curled up into that shadowy corner, this ga of cat and mouse would one day reach its end.

In truth, this was only natural. How could the small soul of an ordinary human ever hope to resist the lofty Order of the World?

Rather, the fact that Emis had managed to persist for so long without being wholly consud was already no small miracle.

Crack—

She heard it, the crisp sound of sothing shattering from deep within her soul.

The moonlight at the cave entrance disappeared, and even the scenery inside began to blur, until only a void of utter darkness remained.

Emis knew this was the sign—her spirit was collapsing, her consciousness about to vanish entirely.

Finally, she could concede.

The thought drifted through her heart.

And strangely, as it arose, Emis felt a sense of release, as if her soul had at last been freed.

In the cold and suffocating depths of the Nightworld, after sleeping in a lightless grave for an entire epoch, after waiting thousands of years and struggling against the will of the Judgnt Grail…

Such tornt had already far surpassed what a small-town girl from the countryside could ever hope to endure. It was far, far too exhausting.

And now, Emis could finally concede—because she was going to die.

From this mont on, the girl known as “Emis” would cease to exist, replaced by that brilliant and radiant Judgnt Angel wearing her face.

“Of course…”

“No matter how much I pretend, no matter how hard I try to disguise myself.”

“In the end, I still could not beco soone like Miss Shiltina—soone who always believed in herself, beautiful and radiant.”

In the endless darkness of that cave, Emis heard the broken voice of her own heart.

No matter how she disguised herself, no matter how splendid the attire she wore, the essence of Emis remained that of a plain country girl from a humble town.

Unlike those dazzling heroes who held faith that must be upheld even in death, who never regretted even a wrong choice, she was weak, she wavered, and in despair, she imagined the one she loved reaching out a hand to save her.

Thus, two years ago.

At the mont of death, before the illusion of Canaan shattered, when she parted completely from that boy.

Emis could not suppress her inner impulse. She said to Rast the desperate words: “You must, you must co save .”

“If it were Miss Shiltina…”

“Then no matter what, she would never have begged Rast for help, would she?”

Emis felt the indescribable sourness and regret swelling in her chest.

She knew that as long as she uttered such a plea, then no matter how difficult the road, no matter how many obstacles lay ahead—that boy would cross a thousand perils, pass through mountains of blades and seas of fire, to save her.

After all, that was simply who he was.

As a Shoreguard, as a Friend of Justice… he would certainly answer such a cry for help, becoming that hero who would always co to save her whenever she wept.

But this, clearly, was nothing more than her own selfish act.

Only when Rast truly reached the Legendary Realm would he be free of Nightworld’s binding rules, able to use the spatial coordinates she had given him, and successfully anchor himself to the Nightworld Remnant where she had sealed herself.

But how long would that take?

Emis did not doubt Rast’s talent or potential in the least. Whether Legendary, Angel, or even higher realms beyond angels—with enough ti, Emis believed Rast would surely reach them.

But that required ti, years of accumulation.

Even soone as extraordinarily gifted as Sister Grey, who ultimately beca the true genius known as Grey the Fate Angel, had needed more than five years to take that final step from the peak of the Sixth Tier to the Legendary Realm.

Yet Emis could no longer endure five more years.

At this very mont, her soul was already on the verge of collapse, at risk of vanishing into nothingness at any ti, never to awaken again.

Of course, the re fact of her own death alone was not enough to make Emis so fearful—long ago, when she learned her terminal diagnosis from the aftereffects of temporal collapse, and long before she accepted Sister Grey’s proposal of the “Artificial Angel Project,” she had already resolved herself to die.

What worried her more was the boy who, after her soul scattered, would still cross countless perils to reach Nightworld and save her.

Because of her own cowardice and fear, she had dragged Rast into such danger.

Forcing him to enter this perilous ntal world already completely controlled by the Judgnt Angel.

At that ti, with his level being only Legendary, he would have no choice but to face a Judgnt Angel at her full strength. That was a truly inescapable doom.

If only she had not cried out to Rast for help back then.

Such regretful thoughts rose unbidden within Emis’s heart, swelling until they consud her entirely.

But… perhaps things would not necessarily develop that way.

Emis’s heart stirred faintly.

She rembered that Judgnt Angel born of the will of the Grail, with an outward appearance identical to hers, yet far more beautiful and powerful.

And as her spiritual world was eroded, the Judgnt Angel devoured her mories bit by bit, becoming more and more like her.

During this long tug-of-war, the will of the Order of the World embodied in the Grail had ntioned more than once… that the relationship between the Order and the Shoreguards was not purely hostile, but that cooperation was possible.

If that was the case…

If she gave up struggling, if she surrendered what remained of her soul imprint and mories to be swallowed completely—

Then that exalted Judgnt Angel would truly beco a new “Emis,” possessing all her intellect and mories.

At that point, Rast would also gain the aid of an angel, even of the Order itself.

That Judgnt Angel would undoubtedly be stronger and more radiant than she ever was… and then, on the boy’s path to realizing his ideal of becoming a Shoreguard, he would gain an incomparably powerful ally.

Yes.

If Emis truly wished to help that boy, then the best choice at this mont was to give up completely, let the Judgnt Angel devour her entirely.

And yet…

For so reason.

When Emis imagined Rast stepping into her ntal world, eting that Judgnt Angel—

When she imagined that the one standing at his side, sharing every joy and sorrow, laughter and tears, was another version of herself with the sa face and the sa mories—

Her heart surged with overwhelming fear.

She did not want to be replaced.

She did not want the Judgnt Angel to take the place that was rightfully hers.

The thought of soone else, identical in appearance, accompanying Rast through everything—that alone made Emis feel as if her heart were being torn apart.

So unwilling.

So unwilling to concede.

To die like this, unnoticed, in silence…

After enduring so much to co this far, yet still failing to see that boy one last ti.

“Is this it? Is this the ending that Emis Justia desired?” A voice echoed in Emis’s mind, like thunder’s roar and the wail of a wounded beast.

“No. This is not the ending I desire.” The girl murmured in reply.

Sothing seed to shatter within the void of darkness, as though tens of thousands of suns had ignited all at once, radiating burning warmth.

Her collapsing spirit began to reassemble, the fractured shards of her mind now glowing brilliantly once again.

Golden threads drifted outward, dazzling in the black void—this was the technique of Kintsugi… carefully piecing together those fragile shards like porcelain, restoring them into a whole.

She could not concede like this. She would not let it end here.

Even if her true self was nothing more than a clumsy, cowardly, timid, and fearful village girl, that no longer mattered.

Emis Justia, in her entire life, had never known what love was, nor had she ever possessed true happiness of her own.

She had yet to fulfill her promise with that boy, yet to see with her own eyes the endless golden plains and rivers and mountains he spoke of.

She had yet to walk hand in hand with Rast through the halls of the ancient academy known as Starfall University, yet to stroke in reality the fluffy, talking snow ferret, Dean Silver.

She had yet to gift her handmade apple pie to the knight nad Shiltina, to thank Miss Shiltina for taking care of Rast in the real world on her behalf…

Therefore, she absolutely could not die here.

Her shattered consciousness was pieced back into a whole, her vanished spirit revived once more.

Emis felt the fla of her soul, once cooling like a dying candle in the wind, ignite in blazing fire once again.

She regained her sense of self, her spirit… and those precious mories with the boy that had never faded through the long years.

And at that mont.

A pale golden light illuminated Emis’s eyes.

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