Elion swallowed hard. The feeling permeating his bones was unlike anything he had ever experienced. It was almost as if he had been reborn.
His Soul Integrity had also climbed significantly.
This is disgusting.
He stood up, blood dripping from his hands, Joart's lifeless body staining the ground crimson.
It would've been hard to explain to the others—his blood-soaked silhouette painted a damning picture. But Elion had no intention of going back to the group for this loop.
The fact that he had managed to wound the High Lord meant there was a chance. Fighting alongside others brought too many variables, but if he fought alone… he could throw himself at the assassin again and again—slowly learning her patterns. Maybe, eventually, he could overcome her.
This is going to be painful.
The young cook walked toward the place he usually died.
She didn't make him wait.
An onyx blade pierced his chest before he could even spot the High Lord.
But this time, he knew exactly where she'd strike.
Elion didn't have the power to defeat her, he was dimensions away from reaching her level, but he had something else: spite.
That could be turned into unwavering persistence.
Back at the start, he retraced his steps through the forest, setting up camp just outside the High Lord's territory. Once again, he singled out Joart—but this time, he skipped the theatrics, no speeches, no twisted plays.
He simply removed the bastard's head in one clean stroke.
The reason why he killed him each time might seem petty in hindsight, but Elion suspected something: when he died, the loop didn't end immediately—it played out over the full four days before resetting. He couldn't leave Joart to wander free during that time, even if it was bound to mean nothing. He couldn't leave him with the group… with Farha.
Elion had felt how killing a human felt. He knew the bastard would kill someone else if he wasn't stopped.
Right now, he was walking back for his date with the High Lord. The young cook didn't shy away from using his ability, his Soul Integrity would rewind back to the same as when they entered this place when he died anyway.
When he arrived at the place where he was assassinated last time, he swiftly turned around, raising his sword to block the oncoming strike. The blade still pierced his abdomen.
Slightly lower.
Pain flooded his body and he died.
Next time, he managed to block—but staggered, then died again from another lightning-fast strike to the neck.
After a couple of tries, he realized that dodging was the only viable option. He couldn't block the devastating power of the High Lord.
Elion sidestepped casually, letting the onyx blade whistle past his cheek. He rolled backward as another cut sliced the air where his neck had been.
He attempted a lunge of his own, but it failed, his opponent being way too fast.
Still, it gave him a better position. He jumped to evade the onyx blade aimed for his knees.
Now comes the hard part.
He focused. It was at this point the High Lord changed strategy, seeing the futile attempt at slaying him wasn't working.
"Ah, the fancy shadow powers. You really spoil me, Miss High Lord," he mused.
She didn't understand his words, but that wasn't the point.
Making snarky remarks was one of the pleasures Elion indulged in during his painful death loops.
Like many times before that, the world went dark.
He crouched, ducking a strike he couldn't see. Then he did a ridiculous cartwheel.
He had found that the more stupid the moves, the more chances he managed to avoid her unrelenting torrent of steel. Like she wasn't expecting him to try a fancy backflip during such a dangerous situation.
His idiocy seemed to throw off her tactical genius.
"That, Miss Shadow, is why you'll lose. Never underestimate the power of doing random bullshit until it works," Elion quipped, falling to his back and rolling backward.
Suddenly, silence thickened. Not just around him—within him. His voice vanished. Only the cold shriek of steel remained.
And then—
He was back at the start.
"AGAIN?!" he screamed, gripping his head, wild-eyed. "How am I supposed to dodge that?!"
"Are you o—?" Eshrod started.
"Yes! I'm fine! No, I'm not crazy! Let's go to the forest."
Many, many more deaths followed. Each more agonizing than the last.
Truth be told, Elion was getting tired. He was no longer making progress, he simply couldn't find a way to evade her attack when everything went silent.
And each time, he felt more pain.
Dying was quite the difficult activity to get used to.
Even if his physical wounds were reverted back, his mind wasn't. This was the blessing that would allow him to break free of the time loop, but it was also a curse.
I need a break…
"Let's climb the mountain," he finally declared.
A vacation. That's what he needed.
Elion convinced the group to camp for the night before heading toward the killer's domain. He sprawled on the stone, arms behind his head, legs crossed.
"Someone's getting comfortable," Eshrod remarked.
"What can I say? I've always wanted to climb a mountain."
She chuckled, but her eyes were serious.
"It is a beautiful sight… but don't get too comfortable. We know nothing about this place. There could be danger just out of sight."
If only she knew…
"You're right," he said. "Speaking of which…"
He walked straight to Joart.
"What do you wan—?"
The young cook struck the side of his head with his fist. There was enough force to knock the sharp bastard out cold.
Everyone froze.
"Can't let myself get murdered during my vacation, can I?" he said cheerfully.
"Why the hell would you do that?!" Talom shouted, rushing to Joart's side.
"Ah, you see, my iron-skinned friend—your childhood buddy murdered me in my sleep. Twice."
"What are you—wait, how do you know we were childhood friends?"
"You told me. Don't you remember?"
Confusion flashed across Ironman's face.
"Eli, what's happening?" Eshrod asked.
"Can't you see?" Elion posed dramatically, mimicking Lumos' first appearance. "I'm a time traveler. Surprising, huh?"
Everyone stared at him blankly.
Ah, I love vacations.
"How? I—I don't understand." Leonard said, a puzzled expression on her face.
Elion explained everything about the time loop. They all looked completely stunned. Except Lumos…
"And that's how I figured out our friend over there was a killer," he finished. "When I interrogated him, I found out quite the interesting piece of information as well."
He locked eyes with Talom.
"As it turns out, your childhood friend was the one to murder most of your group. Just to get high off human souls."
Ironman looked down at his hands. With every proof Elion had brought, there wasn't much room for denial anymore.
Hela was completely stunned, but the young cook could see it, her expression hid a deep, burning fury.
"He… killed them," she muttered, eyes on her sword, tears rolling down her cheeks. "So my… Will wasn't killed by Creatures of the Depths…"
So William did make it, huh… and he was murdered by his own friend. How fucked up.
She stood, looming over Joart's unconscious form like an angel of death.
She didn't even hesitate to plunge her sword into the bastard's heart. No one stopped her either.
Elion thought about doing a snarky remark about ruining the mood, but he wasn't heartless enough for that. He simply walked away, joining his own group by the fire.
"How's it going, my radiant friends?" he grinned.
Eshrod looked up at him, but there was no amusement in her face.
He hadn't told her about her previous betrayal, he considered the matter settled after the loop where he discovered Joart's murder ploy.
Still, the knowledge of their situation seemed to have shaken her.
"What happened to you, Eli?" Kellta asked.
"What do you mean?"
"You… you're so different. What happened in those loops for you to be so unlike yourself?"
Am I really that off? I'm fine. Why does she think I'm not?
"Well, there is a lot that happened, but I don't really want to talk about work during my vacation."
"Why do you keep calling this a vacation?" she pressed.
"Because I usually don't let a loop play out like this. I was just getting tired of dying over and over again, so I decided to take some days off."
She removed her mask. There wasn't much point in hiding her identity when everyone was bound to forget again.
"How many times have you died, Elion?" she asked, her voice shaking.
The young cook stared deep into her lavender eyes.
"Many, many times. I lost count after fifty something," he answered with a sigh.
Everyone was looking at him with a worried expression.
"Well… I'm the only one who remembers. The only one who can shape reality."
Just like the voices in my dreams… memories indeed are a powerful concept to have mastery over.
"Maybe not," Lumos said, staring deeply at his amulet.
Elion raised an eyebrow.
"What do you mean?"
The sorcerer tossed the amulet to Farha. She caught it easily, staring at it.
"Great, what has that weirdo made again…" a voice came through the wooden disk. It sounded feminine, but fake. It didn't sound robotic, just, not right.
Farha frowned.
"Who said that?"
Her confusion deepened with every second.
"Is this a joke?!"
Everyone stared at her.
"What? Why are you all looking at me? Do I have something on my face?"
Her eyes widened as she understood. She could talk. A shaky smile crept on her face.
"It works by reading your thoughts and—" Lumos began explaining.
But Farha tackled him in a hug, like a child on Christmas Eve.
"Thank you… thank you so much."
"Ah—it's nothing. I mostly did it for myself anyway," the sorcerer muttered, awkwardly pushing her away.
"You actually finished it?!" Elion gawked. "But how? You never did before."
"Well, that's the thing—you're not the only one who remembers anymore," Lumos said. "I noticed the design changed on its own. It's far beyond anything I could've made."
"You're saying…"
"My ability persists even when everything resets."