Chapter 344

Chapter 344. Momentary Corridor (2)

Trust ‍​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‍him?

An ‍​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍icy sneer crept onto Arteo’s lips.

His ‍​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍golden eyes bore into the half-brother standing before him, as if to pierce straight through him.

It ‍​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍was the most absurd thing he had ever heard.

‘Ridiculous.’

To ‍​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍trust a royal.

That naïve, foolish illusion—this boy who had spent his days hunting magical beasts in some backwater territory clearly still did not understand it.

There was only one imperial throne.

But there were many royals.

Before this simple yet cruel truth, the word “trust” was nothing but a luxury—and a lie.

Fathers and sons, brothers and siblings had always pointed blades at one another’s throats throughout imperial history.

Smiling warmly to someone’s face while pressing a cold blade to their back.

That was the only way to survive in the world of power.

And the Imperial Family stood at the very pinnacle of that ruthlessness.

Arteo had a goal: to place Shartea on the imperial throne.

Any obstacle lying along that path deserved to be eliminated.

Unsettling seeds had to be cut down before they could grow.

That was the only belief Arteo had learned from the blood-soaked history of the Imperial Family.

‘And yet you expect me to trust you?’

Arteo clenched his jaw tightly.

On what grounds?

What guarantee was there that this boy would not one day block Shartea’s path—or his own?

Arteo had seen countless times how easily a person’s heart rotted when faced with the sweet poison called power.

‘He may look innocent now, but…….’

Who could promise that those teeth would never sink into his throat someday?

Arteo never trusted words spoken by people.

Only actions and results proved the truth.

As if sensing the boiling distrust and contempt within Arteo’s heart, the standoff between the two was broken by a completely unexpected presence.

“Relaxing when I am right here?”

A disturbingly innocent voice.

From the darkness, something wearing the face of the 6th Prince, Harpel, looked at them with a wet, twisted smile.

“I was planning to kill all the royals anyway, so this works out nicely. Saves me the trouble of hunting you down one by one.”

With that, he lightly snapped his fingers.

SHRAAASH!

In an instant, the Mage Tower’s solid marble floor tore apart like paper.

Pitch-black, demonic-energy-soaked plant tendrils surged upward like hellish tentacles, rushing toward the two of them.

An attack that far surpassed human reaction speed.

“Tch! Wind!”

Arteo instinctively shouted a spell.

Compressed blades of wind whirled up from beneath his feet, slicing through the incoming tendrils—but that was only the beginning.

Pop! Shraash! Thud!

From the walls, the ceiling, and even the shadows beneath their feet, dozens—no, hundreds—of thorn-covered tendrils erupted without leaving a single blind spot.

This was no mere spell.

It was the authority of a new personality that had turned the space itself into its domain.

“Damn it…!”

A flicker of alarm crossed Arteo’s face.

He could block the attacks coming from the front and sides, but there was no way to perfectly defend against ambushes from his blind spots and from beneath the ground.

SHRAAASH!

When the thickest, sharpest tendril burst up from below, aiming straight for his heart, Arteo realized he could not evade it.

That was the moment—

“What are you doing?!”

Radel’s shout rang in his ears as he charged forward.

Then came a powerful impact.

Bang!

Not with magic, but with pure physical force, Radel slammed into Arteo and knocked him aside.

He took Arteo’s place instead.

CRACK!

A dull, horrific sound of flesh and bone being pierced echoed through the quiet corridor.

Arteo’s eyes widened in disbelief.

A jet-black plant tendril, saturated with demonic energy, had completely impaled Radel—straight through from his back to his chest.

“You—why…?!”

What escaped Arteo’s mouth was not a groan.

It was a question—born of incomprehension.

Blood poured violently from the holes riddling Radel’s body, yet he did not retreat a single step as he shielded Arteo.

Drip.

A single warm drop of blood slid down Radel’s body and landed on Arteo’s cold cheek.

That vivid warmth cracked the beliefs Arteo had upheld his entire life.

I never trusted you, not even once.

And yet you…?

“Do you just let someone die when they cannot move right in front of you?”

Radel’s voice trembled with pain, but it was calm.

As if it were nothing unusual, he continued speaking.

“And if you die here, Senior Shartea will be sad. That would be rather troublesome for me.”

SHRAASH!

As the tendril withdrew from Radel’s body, steam rose from the wound and regeneration began.

The 8th Prince’s Ability, Troll’s Heart, had activated.

But it was already a fatal injury.

Radel’s face turned pale as paper.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

Arteo asked before he realized it.

“…Of course not.”

Even in unbearable pain, Radel grinned.

That smile burned itself into Arteo’s heart like an indelible brand.

“So… if you go back again, please trust me. Even just once.”

SHRAAAASH!

Before Radel’s words had even finished, an even greater wave of plants surged toward them.

Just before his body was about to be pierced again by merciless thorns—

‘No.’

Arteo could not understand the emotion rising within him.

The feeling that he did not want to see this foolish, irrational boy die before his eyes.

Arteo reached out instinctively.

The world was dyed in gold.

***

In the endlessly stretching corridor—the heart of the Momentary Corridor.

Arteo stood there.

The scene from moments ago refused to leave his mind.

Radel’s body being pierced in his stead, the sensation of blood sliding down his cheek, that final smile.

‘This is insane.’

And yet… seeing him die like that was somehow unbearable.

“…Damn it.”

Arteo cursed roughly and dragged a hand down his face.

Then, without hesitation, he flung open the door leading to the past.

***

The third regression.

The Mage Tower was still quiet.

The ominous alarm that had once echoed as if to devour the corridors had not yet sounded.

The moment he turned back time, Arteo headed straight for the top floor without hesitation.

There was no time.

The Mage Tower Master’s laboratory was where all the tragedies had begun.

Soon, Radel and Armandy would emerge from there.

He had to stop them.

Above all, he had to eliminate the dangerous variable known as the “6th Prince.”

This time, while the 6th Prince still slept inside the glass tube, he had to destroy him.

That was the only way to sever this horrific chain of tragedy.

But when Arteo arrived, neither Radel nor Armandy was there.

The Mage Tower Master was gone.

The 6th Prince was gone.

‘Something changed…?’

Was it possible for the future to change without any intervention from him?

That should have been impossible.

The flow of fate was fixed.

And yet now, an unknown variable had twisted the course of the past itself.

How?

Amid the chaos in Arteo’s mind, Radel’s words resurfaced.

‘If you go back again, please trust me. Even just once.’

The smile he had worn while being pierced all over.

The unwavering gaze.

Radel’s voice, asking for trust even at the threshold of death, echoed in Arteo’s ears.

‘Damn it. Damn it!’

Arteo roughly ran a hand through his hair.

Even in this confusion, his instincts pointed to a single answer.

He had to find that boy.

He did not know why, but at the center of this distorted past was Radel Silvert Cretian.

In the previous two lives, he had not even considered going to find Inette and Gusto.

He had believed they could not become variables.

Mere weak cards—nothing more than first-year Academy students.

But now it was different.

The more he thought about it, the more suspicious everything became.

The fact that the 7th Princess had come to this dangerous Mage Tower under the excuse of retrieving her staff.

The fact that the apprentice holy knight who followed the 8th Prince like his shadow had come along as well.

The end point of all that suspicious behavior led to one person.

From the very beginning, they had come here to find Radel, who had infiltrated the Mage Tower.

If it were them, they would be able to find him.

Arteo changed direction and headed for the imperial envoy’s lodging.

When he finally stood before the door to the 7th Princess’s room, he realized that his judgment had been half right—and half wrong.

Faint traces of divine power and mana leaked out through the crack in the door.

They were not about to find Radel.

They already had.

Creeeak—

The door opened, and an unbelievable sight greeted his eyes.

Mage Tower Master Helio and the 6th Prince, Harpel, lay side by side on the bed.

The apprentice holy knight treating the Mage Tower Master.

The 7th Princess Inette, Armandy, and even the Spirit of the Library.

All the people who had never once gathered in the same place in the previous lives were here.

And at the center of it all stood Radel.

Arteo stared at him in silence.

At the sight of the boy, an indescribable emotion surged up from within.

He had thought he would feel nothing.

He was wrong.

Without realizing it, Arteo stepped forward toward Radel.

His thoughts were still in turmoil.

What should he say?

Should he explain that all of this was a predetermined tragedy and persuade him to change the future?

Or should he shout at them to stop wasting time and run away immediately?

Countless thoughts flashed through his mind, but the words that finally escaped his mouth were something else entirely.

“…Help me.”

The voice was so heavy that even he was startled by it.

At that moment, Radel’s gaze changed.

As if he had been waiting for this very instant, he spoke calmly.

“How many times is this now?”

With that single question, Arteo’s world froze.

He decided to trust this incomprehensible boy—just once.

“…The third.”

***

All eyes in the room naturally turned to Radel.

The one whom the Empire’s 2nd Prince had cast aside all pride to ask for help.

What would Radel do in this situation?

What unfolded before them, however, was utterly absurd.

“So you are saying there is another personality inside him?”

After hearing Arteo’s brief explanation, Radel walked over to the 6th Prince lying on the bed.

He examined Harpel’s condition carefully.

Smack!

A clear, sharp sound echoed through the room.

Without the slightest hesitation, Radel slapped the 6th Prince across the face.

‘Th-that lunatic—what is he doing?!’

Arteo’s eyes widened in horror.

“He is not waking up.”

Radel was completely unfazed.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then swung his hand again toward the other cheek.

Smack!

Arteo stared, dumbfounded.

‘Was it really the right choice to trust him…?’

Did this boy have not even a shred of royal dignity?

No—before that, did he lack basic human common sense?

Just as Radel raised his hand to strike a third time, Harpel’s eyes snapped open.

Grab.

He caught Radel’s wrist mid-swing and sat upright.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

The air in the room froze.

A coarse tone utterly unbefitting of a noble 6th Prince.

It was undoubtedly the other personality hiding within him.

“Are you Brother Harpel?”

Radel asked calmly.

The being wearing Harpel’s face scoffed.

“Do I look like Harpel to you?”

“Hmm….”

Radel gazed quietly into the eyes glaring at him.

Golden irises—the mark of royalty.

But at their center gleamed vertically slit pupils.

“No. You look like a magical beast.”

Radel spoke casually.

To Radel’s eyes, that was not the 6th Prince.

It was a magical beast only a few years old.

With a completely natural motion, Radel picked something up from the bedside.

“And I happen to know very well how to make magical beasts behave.”

With Gusto present, there was no need to worry even if he collapsed.

Holding a water pitcher, Radel broke into a grin.

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