Philippe stood frozen, staring blankly into the air where Emilie had just vanished.
The silence she left behind was deafening, louder than any scream.
Three minutes had passed. The cold night wind blew along the corridor, brushing against his pale face, but he didn't budge, as if he had turned into a statue carved from marble and sorrow.
That's when a transparent blue screen appeared before him.
CONGRATULATIONS ON COMPLETING YOUR SPECIAL QUEST!
YOUR ACHIEVEMENT IS OUTSTANDING.
TAKE YOUR REWARD: LEGENDARY CRATE, COMMON CRATE, AND +250 EXTRA EXP.
Philippe read the words. He bit his lip so hard that he tasted the warm, metallic tang of blood. With a gesture full of rage, he swatted the notification screen away with his hand.
The cold light that appeared from the notification felt like an insult.
Even the words sounded like provocation!
To him, it sounded like 'congratulations for killing the person most precious to you!'.
This made him extremely angry! How rude?!
However, ironically, it succeeded in snapping him out of his paralysis.
He rose, his eyes now empty and devoid of emotion. In his hand, a crate appeared from the void: a Common Crate. He intended to open it now.
At that moment, a very old and thin parchment fell into his hand. Its surface felt cold to the touch, appearing blank, but under the moonlight, faint traces of ancient erased writing appeared like ghosts of words that once existed.
He read its description with a furrowed brow.
Item Name: The Palimpsest Page
Description: Allows the user to instantly pour any thought onto paper as perfect writing without needing writing tools. The paper captures ideas, memories, or concepts with absolute clarity, exactly as they are in the mind. In exchange, the thought or memory written will be fully transferred from the user's mind. The user will remember the event as a blank fact, but lose all emotional context and personal experiences (sights, smells, sounds, feelings) tied to it, which are now stored in the paper.
After reading that, Philippe stored the paper in his inventory without pause, then summoned a shimmering crate into his palm.
Legendary Crate!
After the blinding light subsided, a long sword landed in his hand.
Its blade was made of dull silver that strangely reflected no light, the hilt wrapped in pristine white leather, and the guard shaped like a pair of folded angel wings. A cloudy, lifeless gem was embedded at its base.
Item Name: The Warden's Dawnblade
Description: When thrust into the ground, this sword emits an aura of peace that suppresses malicious intent in all beings within a vast range. The longer it remains embedded, the stronger the effect, forcing the world into peace. While active, the sun will not set. To hold back the sun and suppress the world's evil, the sword uses its user as an energy source. While the sword is embedded, the user will freeze in place, becoming a living statue that is aware but unable to move. Their freedom and life energy are slowly drained to pay the price for that peace.
At that moment, Philippe, expressionless, stored the sword in his inventory, then walked back to where he had left Armand.
He was still leaning against the wall, staring at him with eyes full of unspoken questions.
But his gaze clearly said, 'What happened?'
Philippe didn't answer. His empty, lifeless face was already the answer; why bother responding? Let Armand interpret it himself.
From the empty air, he pulled an object and tossed it to Armand. The silver locket adorned with a pearl shell clinked softly as it was caught.
The Shifting Locket.
"For you," Philippe said, his voice flat.
"Use it to heal your wounds."
He paused for a few moments, then pulled something from the void: an old parchment. Then handed it to Armand.
As Armand held it, the fibers in the paper began to move, darkening, and forming perfect handwriting with a faint silver glow.
This paper allows you to pour thoughts onto paper as perfect writing without tools. The paper will capture ideas or memories with absolute clarity, but in exchange, all emotional context (sights, smells, sounds, feelings) tied to the memory will be fully transferred from your mind, leaving only blank facts.
Philippe turned, intending to leave in silence. Saying nothing more.
Armand, on the other hand, silently watched the man's back, which looked sorrowful. His mouth opened, then closed again. But the next second, he bit his lip.
"Be careful, buddy!" Armand shouted, his voice hoarse.
Philippe's steps halted. He was about to turn. But then he decided not to look back, only nodding once while raising his right hand, before finally continuing his steps, his lonely back slowly swallowed by the corridor's darkness.
***
In front of the throne door.
The magnificent throne room door was now tightly closed. Philippe stood before it, his head bowed. He stared at it in silence, then reached out and knocked twice. The knocking sound echoed in the silence, sounding so loud.
However, there was no answer.
At that moment, a smile that wasn't his began to curve on his lips. He lifted his foot, then with unnatural strength, kicked the door until it shattered into pieces.
He kicked it!
He kicked the door hard!
Philippe, whose hand held The Warden's Dawnblade, immediately pointed his sword at Madeleine, who was still floating in the air, motionless in the same position as before.
Inside, the horde of living corpses turned toward him simultaneously, their empty eyes glowing with hatred.
The giant figure, the most striking among them, turned to him. Before roaring and leaping, its axe raised high, ready to cleave his body.
At that moment, 'something' in Philippe's head suddenly smiled.
And he heard something from afar, but then it grew louder and louder. As if hearing it speak directly beside his ear.
The voice sounded like Emilie's, but on the other hand also like a wolf's howl, the coachman's scream, and the ancient authority of the king, faintly also his own voice. The voices seemed to merge, blending as if forming a terrifying sound.
A thick black aura, in the form of shadows, suddenly appeared, swirling around his body. At first the aura was small but gradually grew stronger every second. It sometimes spoke, moved, whispered in its shadow form, doing many things in ways that weren't his.
His body posture suddenly changed drastically—at times upright like a king, then hunched like a beast. His eyes blinked repeatedly, the color shifting rapidly.
At that moment, he suddenly heard himself, who was no longer 'himself', with a terrifying smile and a layered voice, say:
"Finally... my turn!"
***
A/N: Heh, it's time for Philippe to go wild! Actually, I'm curious myself how this arc's story ends because I haven't thought about it at all. This is an improvised story! You know why? Because in the draft I only wrote 'Arthur will experience someone's life in the past'. And it turned out like this!
By the way, I'm still expecting comments!
If you want to read the 7 advanced chapters with a faster update frequency than the webnovel, you can read it on my patreon whose link is below:
https://www.pâtreon.com/Junxt
Replace "â" with "a" and search for it in your browser.
By the way, don't forget to throw a power stone and leave a review to motivate me :)