It had no body.Only a presence—a spirit adrift in a world drowned in white. A floating light suspended in nothingness, where time itself seemed to have stopped.
Though it had no eyes, the spirit could sense another figure nearby.
A woman.
She stood alone in the endless void. Upon noticing the spirit, she turned, her expression flickering with surprise.
"Oh? What do we have here?"
She walked toward it, her gaze turning from curious to slightly displeased. Under her breath, she muttered, "There's still more for you to see…"
With a snap of her fingers, a white chair materialized before her. She sat gracefully, resting her chin in the palm of her hand, eyes fixed on the formless being before her.
She sighed. "I wonder… how long will this go on? In any case, best prepare yourself—because even I can't see the end."
The spirit gave no response. It had no mouth, no voice. She wasn't even sure if it could hear her. Her expression softened—disappointment? Loneliness? It was hard to say.
"Let's hope that next time we can have a proper chat, Mr. Blacksmith."
With another snap of her fingers, the woman dismissed the spirit.
And just like that, it was sent back to its world.
**
It all came rushing back—like images playing in reverse right before his eyes.The beasts' ambush.The butler's disappearance.Nicolas's sudden, fatal illness.And the one memory that made him cringe the most—his own death.
A sharp pain surged through his head. When it subsided, he opened his eyes—and his breath caught in his throat.
—I'm inside the carriage…? How is that possible?
The carriage, which had broken down and crashed beyond repair, was now fully intact and moving again. No cracks, no signs of damage. As if nothing had ever happened.
He rubbed his eyes, convinced it was some kind of illusion.
—My hands… what?!
But it was real. His hands were there. He looked down in disbelief and quickly stood up. His heart pounded as he took in what he wasn't supposed to see—his arm, his leg—
—Hell… even my head!
A cold sweat trickled down his temple. He couldn't comprehend the situation. He didn't understand how—but he was alive. Whole.
—How could this be?
It was impossible. He had felt his injuries—fatal ones. He remembered the excruciating pain when his limbs were torn away. He could still picture the beast's fangs embedded in his skull.
—My skull… had been shattered.
He slowly ran his fingers along his scalp, feeling for any wound, any mark. But there was nothing. Everything was intact.
—But I felt it. I felt the pain… the death…
A sudden heat built in his chest, rushing up his throat. He scrambled to the carriage window, stuck his head out, and vomited. When he was done, he collapsed back onto the seat, pale and trembling.
—What does all this mean? Could there be a healer capable of something like this? And if so… then Nicolas… No. That's impossible.
Even if he had been miraculously saved, he had seen it—Nicolas had stopped breathing. His heart had ceased. He'd died right in William's arms.
William had tried everything to save him, but…
"Nicolas… I'm sorry…"His voice cracked. Tears welled in his eyes. He had failed his apprentice. No matter how hard he tried, it always ended the same. Obstacles at every step, roadblocks in every direction. He let him die.
"Master?!"
William's eyes flew open. Time itself seemed to stop. He looked toward the coachman's window—and there was Nicolas.
Alive. Healthy.
"Master, that devil is saying weird things again!"
—What… is going on? William wanted to say. But instead—
He leapt toward the boy and embraced him.
"Master?" Nicolas was stunned. He didn't understand the sudden hug, but William didn't let go.
Tears streamed down the blacksmith's face as he whispered, "I'm glad you're okay…"
"Master? Are you alright? You look pale… Are you crying?"
Nicolas's voice reached the front of the carriage. Sebastian turned slightly from the driver's seat, calling back, "Is everything alright? If the boy is being a nuisance, I know a few ways to punish him."
—Sebastian too?!
Nicolas being alive was strange enough—but the butler was here too? Everything was too perfect. Too familiar.
The boy pulled away from the embrace, frowning toward the front. "As if my master would stoop to your lowly ways!"
Sebastian scoffed but said nothing more.
William smiled at their usual bickering. "It's okay, boy," he said, patting Nicolas's head and wiping his own tears. "I'm alright."
By some miracle, William was back in the carriage. Nicolas was alive. Sebastian was with them. Their supplies—the weapons, the food—they were all there.
—Everything is the same. But how?
Nicolas looked behind William, puzzled. "What are you doing?" he asked, eyeing the gear curiously.
William blinked. "Didn't I already tell you? Just checking our inventory. Wanted to be sure we had enough for the next town—ah?"
—What am I saying?
"Well, it's good to have someone like you around, Master. One who keeps my stomach full." Nicolas grinned and patted his belly.
—Wait… something's off.
Then Nicolas noticed the daggers among the gear. "Wait, you brought the daggers I made? I thought you were just messing with me!"
"If I were messing with you," William said automatically, "I would've made you forge a hundred more."
His eyes widened as the words left his mouth.
—I already said that. I remember saying that.
"Eek! So cold!" Nicolas replied with a laugh.
—The same response…
William gave a strained smile. "Are you teasing me, boy? We've already had this conversation."
Nicolas tilted his head. "Huh? I don't think so, Master. This is the first time we've talked about this."
That was the moment William knew. This wasn't déjà vu. This wasn't coincidence.
This was real.
—Could it be possible?
He'd passed the point of wondering if he was imagining things. He knew this had all happened before.
—I died. I know I did. So that means… somehow, I was—
William Jaeger had been brought back in time.