Trying to Save my Favorite Character from His Tragic Fate - Chapter 94: Memories

When Kyrie watches Cynthia slam her sword into Ian’s arm, he knows that he had only one choice left. Sil watches Kyrie lifting the flask of potion to his lips.

Words inevitably escape from Sil’s mouth since he does not understand, “Why are you sacrificing so much for that man?”

Kyrie lets out a gentle smile, and his eyes soften at his own words, “There are people in this world that are worth risking for… He is worth saving… Anytime… Every time…”

He drinks the potion, and his eyes empty of life. Eventually, a dark green substance like a curtain covers his eyes completely. His body beams in a blinding light, and he starts floating up. From his abdomen, green smoke comes out into a spherical shape on top of Kyrie’s floating body and slowly expands.

Imogen stabs her sword on the enchantment circle, and the circle breaks, finally ending the deadly game that threatens to turn them into ghouls.

However, her eyes shake as she turns back to face Kyrie. If she has to choose, she will choose Ian without a doubt in her mind, but this loop, strange emotions fill her to the brim. Maybe they have always been there, and somehow she just starts to notice how unkempt she is from the inside.

‘I had to do what I had to do,’ Imogen reasons as she redirects her eyes towards Ian, who is in the ground getting swallowed by the mana that comes out of him.

Before the mana completely wraps around Ian, his eyes shine in red, but they look empty. Cynthia clicks her tongue as she stands up shakily after clashing her sword against Imogen. She makes numerous shadows come out from the ground on her command and directs them towards Ian.

She needs to stop Ian from awakening at all costs!

Cynthia turns to Sil, who is preoccupied with his petty personal matters! She fumes from the inside because the awakening will wreck many of their plans!

A huge magic circle of ancient runes appears below Ian, and the red light freezes the shadows that bolt towards him. While the red magic circle rotates around Ian, black mist steams from it. The shadows melt, and along with the mist, they get absorbed into the mana dome. Then, the magic circle shatters like glass, unwrapping Ian from the dome, showing him already on his feet with his eyes slowly dimming back to his deep blue eyes.

His entire presence changes.

His once unconfident and naive eyes change into tranquil and certain ones. Standing straight and unyielding, he walks his first steps without a finch of pain expressed on his face.

Laurel takes a quick look at Ian, and she senses as if she is looking at another person other than the Ian she knew. She watches Imogen approach him with a small smile on her face.

‘What happened to Ian?’

Laurel observes Ian looking at Kyrie with a cold and uncaring expression, and Laurel trembles at such response to Kyrie’s doom.

“Welcome back!” Imogen walks towards Ian and pats him on the shoulder.

Ian frowns from the pain that assaults on his body from the hand that slams on his shoulder with the detached arm. He takes out the black mana stone pendant from his pocket.

“You failed again, Imogen…” Ian’s voice rings deep with a tone of disappointment while examining the stone.

“Yeah,” Imogen responds as she frowns.

“What stopped you this time?”

“Erebus descended successfully, and I had to kill Laurel.”

Ian glares at Laurel, and Laurel trembles at the pressing glare that she received from Ian.

“You found her earlier this round,” Ian comments when his eyes land on Laurel.

Ian’s eyes shine in red again, and more memories start to flood inside his mind.

Like the other rounds, he expects the current loop’s memories to come to him like a repeated remake of the same movie. However, this time, the memories he found inside himself are completely different. He looks at his body quietly, and he sighs in disappointment.

His body this round has been far in the worst condition he has ever experienced compared to the other loops. However, his eyes slowly widen when his memories of a certain person come to mind – a man by the name of Kyrie.

Unmatching his cold and expressionless face, warm tears roll down his eyes. His entire icy heart warms by the memories of this one person that flows within. He quickly looks at the man floating in the air again, green smoke emitting from his abdomen.

His eyes cannot shield him from his sudden surge of emotions, and as if ice has started to crack and melt, his hardened expression softens. He quickly stares at Imogen, who just gives him a look away.

Then, a sharp one edged sword cuts through the green smoke, and the upper body of an old woman comes out.

Ian recognizes that woman: the old shaman. She is the same shaman who created the potion of truth. She wears a red ogre mask with pointed teeth like a wild boar; her hair stacks up like white hay; her fingernails long, pointy, and yellow; and she wraps herself around unrefined ropes like a beggar. On her waist, there is a clear bottle tied to her. The bottle shines in a green light, and butterflies that glow trapped within.

Her eyes slowly trace to Sil, who is in front of her.

“Whose memories are that you desire?” The old shaman’s voice echoes.

“From Ian Ethern’s,” A smile spreads on Sil’s face.

“Very well!”

The shaman swings her one edged sword. The long sword slowly turns into a short dagger on her hand with multiple red strings that connect to nowhere around the chamber. She slices Kyrie’s forehead between his eyebrows with a small stroke. Then, she murmurs inaudible words that sound like hums than actual words.

Then, Kyrie’s eyes open widely, and he shakes as the shaman takes his memories like record tapes through the mark.

Imogen can sense Ian blazing in anger, and she quickly grabs his arm to stop him.

“You might damage Kyrie’s mind if you stop the shaman’s ritual!”

However, something that Imogen has never seen appears on her companion’s face – his eyes show such vulnerability that she loosens her grip.

Ian tightens his hold onto the black mana stone and takes his detached arm off the ground. With the essence that lingers in the stone, he channels it into his detached arm and attaches back to his body.