Chapter 90

My mouth hung open in surprise.

This astonishment was not unpleasant. I did not feel ashamed or humiliated, nor was I delighted to see a photo of myself from four years ago.

I simply said,

"Ah, there it is. Count Dshero is over there."

He shuddered, his shoulders trembling, and lifted his head.

Somewhere far ahead, Count Selenyev had already moved forward and was gazing intently at one of the frames on the wall.

"Now that I look at it, you were quite young back then. How old were you? Nineteen? Twenty?"

There was no response.

Count Dshero seemed to be in even greater shock than I was.

His expression, which was uncharacteristically speechless, was as if he had encountered an unexpected and enormous secret, making him look bewildered.

At first, he approached Count Selenyev slowly, but then his steps quickened noticeably as he asked,

"Count Selenyev, may I ask where you obtained these photos?"

"Hmm? I got them from the Allied Forces."

"That's impossible. I was with the main character of these photos in the closest position. I never saw any soldier carrying a camera."

It was a valid question.

In a war where one could die today or tomorrow, which mad soldier would carry a camera?

Of course, there were some who carried cameras, treating them as precious items.

However, film was a consumable, and after the war, the cameras often ended up broken and useless.

'These dynamic compositions and realistic landscapes could never be captured.'

So, from Count Dshero's perspective, the photos displayed in this gallery were unsettling in many ways.

The Magic War was a long and brutal conflict.

During this time, our presence, which was at the core of the front lines, was captured so vividly and closely.

This meant that the probability was high that the Allied Forces had leaked major operations and various secrets without the knowledge of the high command.

Count Selenyev's meaningful smile only heightened this suspicion.

"Do you really think so, Count Dshero? Can you confidently say that no soldier could leave behind such wonderful works?"

"Yes, I can confidently say that."

"Is that so? Then you might be surprised to hear this. I also participated in the Magic War. Alongside you."

Startled, I hurriedly turned and walked towards them.

'Lu participated in the war?'

Did he change his appearance with magic and join the war?

It was hard to deny, given his capabilities.

Count Dshero, who was unaware of this fact, looked at him with disbelief.

"Are you serious...?"

"Why would I joke with you, Count? It's not a particularly enjoyable topic."

"Which unit were you in? Why did you hide your identity...?"

"Surely you don't think only the Allied Forces participated in that war? Some of the Logue-affiliated mages joined the Allied Forces with the Emperor of Pen Rota's permission, hiding their identities. You, as a military official, should already know this."

The golden eyes, which had a slightly cold light, looked at Count Dshero and asked dryly,

"More importantly, Count Dshero, it seems you know for whom these artworks exist. Who do you think it is?"

Count Dshero's answer was unhesitant.

"Andert Fager."

And the saliva in my mouth began to dry up like a desert.

"Do you... know Andert Fager, Count?"

"Of course. Does anyone in this world not know Andert Fager? He is a hero, is he not?"

A slightly shy and nostalgic voice echoed through the vast ceiling.

"Quite a devoted fan. Though he himself may not know it."

He was looking directly at me.

Since entering the gallery, his gaze, which had been fixed on Count Dshero, turned to me for the first time.

A ticklish voice, like a bubble, pierced my heart.

"Stop being a weasel and answer. Who are you? Why are you here?"

"Because I'm your fan."

At that moment, the bubbles were gone.

Instead, it felt as if sand was pouring into my throat.

The sand that fell into my body began to pile up in my heart, soon filling it to the brim.

"What is this?"

"Oh, that's Andert Fager's coffin."

"Coffin? You can't mean...!"

"Hmm? Are you asking if the hero's body is inside? It's empty. We couldn't even set up a tombstone."

A large hand swept over the black coffin placed in the center of the gallery.

There wasn't a speck of dust on the coffin. It looked as if it had been moved there just yesterday, gleaming white.

"I realized it late. That I didn't know his real name."

Now, I couldn't help but be certain.

Count Selenyev, Lu, had been watching me all along.

'...Continuously.'

For the past ten years, continuously.

To remember the days I lived as another being.

To bury me next to Andert's grave.

To keep the promise he made to bury me next to the grave.

'...Ah.'

The sand in my heart finally overflowed.

Not wanting to reveal my distorted expression, I turned away from him.

The world was filled with moments of Andert Fager.

This vast villa was filled with my existence as seen by Lu.

The emotion I felt in that moment of realization... was a massive wave, a tsunami, that swallowed me whole.

So that I could never shake it off.

'Ha.'

Why Lu, of all people.

Really, why Lu?

"His real name?"

"Don't you know? Hmm, well. There are a few others in this world who know, but only a couple. It's not strange that you don't know."

I stood in front of the nearest photo.

A foolish face, half-heartedly eating rations, was visible. Dark circles under his eyes suggested he hadn't slept for a long time.

Yet, he was smiling.

Perhaps there were friends in a place not captured in the photo.

"Count, you seem to know a lot about Andert."

"I know less than you. We were comrades for ten years."

The conversation paused for a moment.

For some reason, I could picture Count Dshero's bitter expression.

"I have one more question. Is this coffin and tombstone... prepared for Andert? Did he ask you to do this?"

"Why do you think so?"

"Because he always waited for death."

It was an unexpected answer.

He thought of me like that?

But don't all soldiers wait for death? Was I special...?

'Ah. That's why.'

"Looking at you, you seem eager to die on the battlefield. Or to run away."

"Marry me. I'll treat you well... really well. So well that you won't want to leave."

Was that why he said those things?

"Why don't you ask why I thought of Andert that way?"

Count Selenyev kindly answered Count Dshero's question.

"Death is the destination of those who enjoy life. We are all moving towards death. So, waiting for death is not a special thing."

"You're quite cynical. But I don't think like you. If we are all moving towards death, what's the point of living?"

Dshero's voice, which had been slightly agitated, suddenly dropped to the ground.

"Andert was not someone who would die like that."

"..."

"He had the right to enjoy peace. The right to look up at the sky after the war clouds had cleared. He had the obligation to be treated and praised as a hero for the rest of his life. But in the end..."

"..."

"To have his name recorded in history and receive a title only after closing his eyes. What's the point of such things after death?"

Title?

'Did I receive a title?'

My eyes widened at the news I had never heard before.

But I was only surprised for a moment.

How long had Andert Fager been dead? It was meaningless now.

"I'm sorry. I was being too emotional."

"There's no need to apologize."

"Meeting an old friend after a long time, I got quite excited. Thank you for showing me this place, Count. Can I look around on my own for a while?"

"Of course."

After that, we spent our time in our own ways.

Count Dshero spent almost an hour touring the gallery. Then he made a somewhat sudden request.

"There's one photo that catches my eye. Could you give it to me?"

"To you? Oh, that's an unexpected request."

The photo he chose featured three men in the background of a midsummer day.

I, Raphael, and Dshero, shirtless and sitting on the ground, cooling off from the heat.

After much deliberation, Count Selenyev accepted Dshero's request. It seemed he accepted because it was Dshero.

That evening,

We entered the Astrosa Castle.