1 – Cry for the weeper
“—after a long and hard journey, the Hero and his friends finally reached the Demon king’s throne. However, the Demon king used a foul trick to force the Hero party to retreat. Nova, the Swordsmaster of the Hero’s party, sacrificed himself to hold the Demon king back.”
“...”
“‘Nova!’ screamed Ihwa, the Archmage, as the others forcibly dragged her out with them, ‘what are you doing?! Get out!’”
“...”
“As he walked up to the Demon king, Nova turned around one last time and flashed Ihwa one last sad smile. ‘Live on,’ he said. ‘I don’t want our child to also lose her mother.’ He chuckled grimly.”
“...”
“Then, the entire Hero’s party watched as Nova unsheathed his legendary sword—Kirion—and dashed toward the Demon king. Just before Nova clashed with the Demon king, the Hero’s Escape stone activated, and everyone but the brave Swordsmaster who stayed behind was teleported to safety.”
“...”
“And to this day, h— oh, why are you crying, little one?”
The woman, who had been narrating the story, closed the leather-bound book and patted a child’s back.
The child, who looked a few months old at best, had tears rolling from his silver eyes down his cheeks despite still having his usual expressionless face.
The woman ran her hand through his barely-grown black hair and hummed soothingly.
“I guess you really sympathize with the Swordsmaster even if you don’t understand the story, huh?” She chuckled. Putting the book onto the wooden table she was sitting at, the woman carried the baby to the cradle and placed him down.
“Nova,” she said, addressing the black-haired child, “although you were named after the Swordsmaster, don’t actually go out and sacrifice yourself, alright?” She seemed to be joking, but there were still some traces of seriousness in her voice.
Seeing that the child wasn’t responding to her words, she sighed. “Right, he’s only 5 months old, of course he can’t understand me.”
The woman then whispered a “good night” before leaving the room.
*
*
*
*
I stayed still in the cradle for a few minutes, making sure that the woman, or what she liked me to call her, “mom,” was really gone. After that, I tried to climb out of the prison that was the cradle.
‘Dammit, these chubby arms are useless!’
Never in my life could I imagine that I would become a baby again. No, forget that, I couldn’t even imagine myself being fully conscious during the process of exiting my mom!
But it was no use complaining about it now. After a few minutes of struggling, I finally got out of the cradle. Then, I climbed up the chair to get on the wooden table. My aim was the book that mom just read me.
As I placed my useless baby arms on the cover of the book, figurative veins popped on my soft and dumb baby head.
‘I’ll be sure to strangle whoever made this goddamn book!’
I didn’t care whether or not he had a loving family waiting for him at home. It was his fault for making the Nova character a goofball that was only there to make the Hero look more competent. It just wasn’t true!
How would I, a baby, know that?
Of course I would! I’m Nova, the Swordsmaster!
Yes, the last part of the story was true. I died while fighting the Demon king, but just before I died, my surroundings suddenly changed, and I was inside a baby’s body. Apparently, the year was now 1438, five years after I died.
While it’s true that I sacrificed myself, I didn’t do it for the damn Hero! It was for my beloved, Ihwa. And she was the reason why I was doing this right now. I noticed that mom didn’t finish the story, and I wanted to see how it ended! I wanted to see if Ihwa was living happily.
Thus, I flipped through the thick book. Slowly, because my arms were pitifully weak. Finally, I got back to the part where I died.
‘Right, calm down, no need to be scared. However obnoxious that Hero is, he still promised to keep Ihwa safe.’
After reassuring myself, I flipped the page.
===
After escaping the Demon king’s castle, the Hero and his friends got right back to training to avenge their fallen comrades. A year later, they were finally ready again.
===
‘Huh, how… barebone. I guess mom improvised a lot earlier.’
The fact that she was close to guessing my last words was a bit concerning, not going to lie.
===
The rematch with the Demon king was fierce. The sky split, mountains cracked, and oceans evaporated. At the end of the battle, the Hero emerged victorious; though, it was not without sacrifices.
Ihwa, the Archmage, died fighting the Demon king. May her soul rest in peace with Nova.
===
W-What?! No way! This book must be lying!
‘That’s right! The author made this up to get more sales!’
There was no way Ihwa would die to the Demon king, not when the entire Hero party was with her! Not when the Hero himself promised to protect her! N-Not when I sacrificed myself!
I was absolutely disgusted by the notion that Ihwa would get harmed. As such, I glared at the book as if it was my archenemy. I placed both of my hands on the book to try and rip it apart, but my weak strength didn’t allow me to do so.
I took a deep breath and focused on my senses. Soon, I could see threads of blue floating around me despite having my eyes closed. The threads, which were floating aimlessly in the air, slowly converged into my hands. I then opened my eyes and watched as a deep blue hue mixed with thin streaks of gray covered my hands.
‘Huh, I can use Aura already? I guess this body isn’t that bad.’
As I ripped the book apart and looked at the flying pages, I couldn’t help but feel catharsis coursing through my body.
‘That’s right! Take it, damn book! I’ll just ask mom tomorrow.’
Yawning, I made my way back to my bed. Or at least, I tried to. As soon as I took a step forward, my whole body collapsed.
Feeling the familiar stinging pain in my body, I let out a mental sigh.
‘Looks like it’s still too early to use Aura after all. I hate this damn useless body!’
Due to me having experienced this many times, I knew the best cure for this pain.
‘I’ll just sleep through this.’
…
Morning.
I was woken up by the sound of ceramic hitting the floor, followed by a scream.
“OH GOD! NOVA! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?!”
I slowly opened my eyes and turned toward the source of the sound—mom. Although my body was definitely sore, I endured it and looked at the broken plate that was lying at her feet.
Then, I realized what scared her so. I, a 5-month-old baby, slept through a cold winter night on the floor without a blanket.
‘Well, I think she’s more scared about the book.’
No one would expect me to be the one who ripped it apart after all, so she would be justified to think that someone broke in and uhh… left after destroying the book?
As I was deep in my thoughts, mom rushed over to me and hugged me tightly.
“Nova, are you okay?” She patted my back soothingly; her hand ran over my forehead to check for any sign of a fever, or worse, hypothermia.
Watching her worry over me like that, I couldn’t help but feel bad about what I was going to do.
‘Well, what’s one more scare going to do, really?’
“M…om… what happe…ned t-o Ihwa?”
Shocked, mom immediately released me from her hug. If she was carrying another plate right now, I was sure it would suffer the same fate as its brother near the door.
Eventually, she recovered from her shock and hugged me even tighter.
“Kyahh! He called me ‘mom’!”
She was so excited that she began weeping. Her face melted in happiness.
‘Okay, I get that you’re excited, but can you answer my question?’
Getting restless, I asked again.
“Wh…at happen-ed to Ihwa?”
Mom broke the hug and placed both hands on my shoulder with a gentle smile. “So you did understand the story, huh? As expected, my child’s a genius, just like me!”
Giving her the most intimidating glare I could make (which seemed cuter than threatening), I asked again. “W—”
“Hehe, the little one wants to know what happened to Archmage Ihwa?” Mom interrupted me before I got the chance to ask again.
I just stared at her, wide-eyed.
She giggled before continuing. “Hehe, I was expecting you to like the Hero, or even the Swordsmaster. You want to be an Archmage in the future, little one?”
‘Just answer the damn question already!’
As if she was about to read my thoughts, mom finally answered the question.
“The Archmage died. She protected the Saintess from an attack. I-I was there as a reporter when it happened.” Her eyes turned distant and sad. Planting a kiss on my forehead, she softly smiled. “Don’t be too sad. I’m sure she’s at a better place now, alongside the Swordsmaster.”
No, she isn’t.
“It was a miracle that I even managed to capture the footage and get out of it alive,” she muttered.
No! Lies! Ihwa is still alive!
“Don’t worry, my son.” She patted my head. “I’ll show you how the Archmage fought when you’re older. As for the footage of her death…well, let’s just decide when we get there.”
NO!
That day, the greatest Swordsmaster wept louder than anyone. His cries sadder than even those of the people who mourned his death.