1.
Sitting behind Yohan, Francia closed her eyes and leaned her body against his back.
The sound of horse hooves echoed without pause, their bodies rising and falling with each stride. As the horse galloped, sharp gusts of wind brushed past their skin, and her black hair streamed wildly behind her.
Except during the horse’s brief rests, there was no time to stop. Yohan’s senses had detected something vast following them.
There was no need to guess who or what that vast presence was.
‘…It must be those men.’
Two elite knights, a transcendental mage who was the Tower Master, and the Archbishop of the Holy Kingdom, whose rank equaled that of an imperial archmage.
Confronting them head-on was impossible. No matter what, they had to find refuge in the Celestial Mage’s Library.
Clop-clop-clop!
How long had they been traveling like this?
On a day when the bright sunlight shone down yet the cold wind refused to relent,
the two finally arrived at the center of the continent, where the Celestial Mage’s Library was hidden amidst ancient ruins.
“Is this the place?”
“Yes. Follow me.”
Rumble…!
With a faint tremor, the center of the ruins split apart. Francia, holding Yohan’s hand, stepped onto a staircase descending underground.
Rumble…
As they descended the stairs, the entrance above them sealed shut.
In the pitch-black darkness, Francia extended her hand and murmured,
“Light.”
Fwoosh!
A pure white glow gathered at her fingertips, illuminating the passage.
The vast chamber they entered was lined with bookshelves towering so high they seemed to pierce the ceiling, standing like fortress walls.
The air was heavy with the scent of old paper and the faint presence of mana.
On the long, sprawling table lay mysterious artifacts, each emitting a subtle glow even in the dim light, affirming that this was no ordinary place.
“This is… the Celestial Mage’s Library…”
“It holds countless treasures.”
“Indeed.”
“Well, most of the rune inscriptions are unreadable, so much of it is useless. The artifacts are all we can somewhat manage, though even with those, we don’t know what most of them do…”
The records of the Celestial Mage were meant for those who had achieved transcendence and deeply understood rune inscriptions.
Although Francia had studied runes, she couldn’t decipher the magic and flow embedded within them.
“Hm…”
“I can read them.”
“…What?”
Francia’s eyes grew as wide as a rabbit’s in shock. The magical tomes in this place were leagues beyond the ones she had taken with her before.
But he read those?
“I can’t understand everything, but I can grasp the general flow,” Yohan replied. “Most of it describes absurd magic things that could trigger disasters or twist causality…”
As he spoke, a shadow crossed Yohan’s face. His expression stiffened, and a deadly aura radiated from him. Francia instinctively flinched.
“They’re here.”
“…No way.”
“Yes. It’s them.”
Yohan set the tome down and looked toward the ceiling.
“Right now, they’re tracking your mana at the entrance. The Celestial Mage’s barrier seems to be slowing them down, but only slightly.”
The Tower Master was a transcendental mage. Deciphering the mana Francia had left behind was child’s play for him.
“Oh, no…”
Francia clasped her hands over her mouth.
The Tower Master was not just the most powerful mage of this era—he was a legend.
Even if this place was protected by the Celestial Mage’s barrier, it had deteriorated over the millennia. It was likely they could break through.
“Wh-what do we do?”
“…”
Yohan furrowed his brows and stroked his chin, deep in thought.
‘…We’ll have to use that.’
“That?”
“The regression spell.”
“…Regression?”
Francia’s pupils trembled slightly.
“How?”
“There,” Yohan said, pointing to a massive crystal orb in the center of the library. A faint blue light rippled within it.
“I’ve been observing it since earlier. It’s clearly infused with the Celestial Mage’s magic. If we use it, it should be possible. Though, of course, the barrier surrounding the library will disappear in the process.”
It was unmistakable. The crystal contained the Celestial Mage’s magic—its purity was exceptional, and though much of it had been spent, the remaining power was still vast.
“But…” Francia hesitated.
For her, going back to the past was an escape, but Yohan would remain behind. Without the barrier, he would undoubtedly…
“There’s no other way. You’re not planning to die here, are you?”
Before Francia could finish her thoughts, Yohan spoke quickly, cutting her off.
“Right now, focus on escaping this situation. Don’t worry about anything else,” he said, smiling gently as he softly patted her head. His touch was comforting.
“…Even if I go back to the past, nothing will change,” Francia murmured, clenching her fists and lowering her gaze.
“I won’t do any better, even if I get another chance…”
Francia was only twenty-five years old. Until she was twenty, she had been sheltered like a flower in a greenhouse within her family’s estate. After that, she had spent her life on the run, never gaining any real experience.
The reason she had once been hailed as the Obsidian Saint wasn’t because she had worked diligently or honed her talents. It was because of her innate gift for magic and the potential she’d inherited.
But to use regression magic and return to the past?
Even if she were given another chance, there was no way she could succeed. She was terrified.
It felt like this horrifying nightmare would repeat endlessly.
“Yohan Harssen.”
As Francia bit her lip, Yohan spoke in a low voice.
“The third son of the Harssen Viscounty. That was me, before an arranged marriage with the Friche family was proposed.”
Lowering himself to her eye level, Yohan met her gaze. His dark blue eyes locked with her crimson ones.
“When you return to the past, come find me.”
His voice, though quiet, reverberated firmly.
“I’ll be waiting for you on the path you must walk again. So don’t be afraid. Move forward. You are not alone.”
Francia stared at him with a dazed expression.
To come find him? She couldn’t fathom what he was thinking.
But one thing was clear—no matter what happened, the man before her was on her side.
“…”
Suddenly, Francia’s chest tightened. Her heart ached, as though bound by invisible chains.
She felt short of breath. Emotions too tangled to even recognize surged up her throat, threatening to overwhelm her.
“The magic tomes say that one cannot reveal information about the future, but the past me won’t need to know the future to deal with those men. So, come find me.”
Yohan smiled gently.
“For now, focus only on going back to the past. Don’t we need to escape before they reach us?”
Without waiting for a response, Yohan turned and stepped toward the crystal orb.
Vwooom!
The blue light from the orb brightened, illuminating the shadowy library.
“This should be enough to cast the regression spell,” Yohan said, glancing at her. “Most of the magic power has already been used, but what remains is still considerable.”
He extended his hand to her.
“Let’s go. It’s time to start over.”
2.
Following Yohan’s guidance, Francia completed her preparations for the regression spell.
Lying on the magic circle inscribed with intricate runes from the regression tome, she looked up at Yohan with anxious eyes.
“Do you think this will really work…?”
“It will,” Yohan replied with a light smile.
“If it were just some groundless theory, I’d doubt it, too. But this is the Celestial Mage’s library. If the figure of legend really created this, then it’s more than possible.”
Swish. Swish.
The last of the runes were carved into place. Yohan retrieved the mana conduit connected to the crystal orb and set it beside her.
“Remember,” he said firmly. “You must not speak of the future. Simply find me. Make it so that the Yohan Harssen of the past can follow you. I’ll handle the rest.”
Though still fraught with worry, Francia nodded obediently. Her mind felt sluggish, clouded by her rising anxiety and fear.
At that moment—
RUMBLE!
A tremor shook the library.
Someone was interfering with the barrier.
“…They’re here.”
“Yohan!”
Francia, lying at the center of the magic circle, hurriedly tried to sit up.
“This won’t work! Even if I go back to the past, Yohan, you’ll—”
“What happens if you don’t return?” Yohan cut her off before she could finish.
“Even if I survive, it won’t change anything. This world will still meet its end. And if they capture you, you’ll be condemned to an eternity of torment.”
He opened the spellbook.
Vwooom!!
The mana surrounding the library dissipated as the runes and the magic circle blazed to life. Francia’s body slowly began to rise into the air.
Her voice rose in desperation.
“Why… Why are you going so far for me?”
“Didn’t I tell you?”
“This is atonement—for the choices my past self once made.”
“W-what does that mean…?”
But before she could finish her thought, Yohan activated the spell.
“If I’m given another chance, I will hold on to the mistakes of the past and make them right.”
The air grew bitterly cold, and an icy chill enveloped her body. White puffs of breath escaped her lips, and the mana in the atmosphere began to surge wildly.
“Let the heavens shift—Regression (回歸).”
KA-BOOOOM!
An explosion of blue light consumed the library, tearing through the air like a tempest. Threads of light, cascading from the ceiling like the Milky Way, flowed from the crystal orb and converged on her.
The magic circle on the ground shone as though it contained the entire sky, while the swirling mana around it fell silent, as if in awe of its power.
“No! Stop! Yohan!”
Yohan smiled gently at her one last time.
“I won’t remember this. In the future, the only one who will know is you.”
His voice was calm, carrying a quiet warmth.
“But even if I don’t remember you, it’s enough that you remember me.”
His words enveloped her, soothing her turbulent heart.
“That memory will be the light guiding your path. And the past me will follow that light to protect you.”
Her vision began to blur, her eyelids growing heavy.
“I will live on in your memories.”
With his tender smile lingering in her mind, Francia closed her eyes, surrendering to the flow of time.
3.
Rumble, rumble, rumble!
The entrance to the library collapsed.
Yohan stood in silence, staring at the regression magic circle.
Francia, eyes closed, was returning to the past.
“Do I need to buy time?”
Regression magic didn’t activate instantly. It required sufficient preparation time to ensure the user’s mind could remain intact.
Truly, it was a heaven-defying magic, one that reversed the natural order of the world.
Twisting the law of causality was no small feat, after all.
“I just need to hold out for about 15 minutes.”
But to ensure the Archmage, the Tower Lord, couldn’t interfere, Yohan had to kill him.
If the Tower Lord remained, he would undoubtedly use the Astral Mage’s library to plot something again.
And yet, for some reason, Yohan chuckled faintly.
Death was staring him in the face.
It felt as if the chains that had bound his heart were unraveling.
A weight lifted—his guilt for passively watching Francia’s misfortune.
But at the same time—
“…Rudbeckia.”
He felt ashamed before his wife.
“I’m sorry, Rudbeckia.”
Yohan murmured inwardly.
He could no longer keep his promise.
Once this was over, he would surely die.
“I should’ve told her I loved her sooner.”
For five years of marriage,
their relationship as husband and wife had been sparse. Not once had he properly said he loved her.
Even though it was a loveless, politically arranged marriage,
he had failed in his duty as a husband.
He had wronged her.
He hated himself for never even saying the simple words “I love you.”
He thought she would always be there beside him.
Now, he could no longer stay by her side.
“Truly… I’m sorry, Rudbeckia.”
Yohan repeated in his heart once more.
Someday, he would atone to her as well.
At that moment—
“Something massive is happening with magic…”
“It’s the Astral Mage’s library, after all.”
“This is an incredible amount of mana…”
“Hm.”
Four men had reached the depths of the library.
“…And you are?”
The Emperor of Rogino, Fedelian, who stood at the front, frowned and tilted his head in confusion.
Yohan placed his hand on his sword hilt and glanced back. In that instant, his gaze turned icy, and a blue flame ignited in his eyes.
“You won’t get past this point.”
His cold voice sliced through the air. A blue glow burst forth from his sword, and a vortex of mana violently engulfed him.
Whoooosh~!
A sharp gale tore through the surroundings, making the bookshelves tremble as magic tomes scattered into the air.
The tip of his sword pointed toward them.
“I have to set things right.”
He prayed,
that the world would not be destroyed.
That his past self would protect her.
That, above all, Francia could find happiness.