Chapter 428

The Ruined Geladridion is a world where time cannot be discerned.

More precisely, it was a static world where the passage of day and night could not be felt.

Aslan stood by a strangely shaped window, its origin unknown, gazing at the sea beyond, fully realizing this fact.

How long had he been standing there?

It had to have been at least half a day, yet nothing had changed.

What he had thought was the ebb wasn’t the ebb, nor was it the flow.

It was merely as if something incredibly vast was being swirled by a hand, intermittently wetting the sandy shore.

The high-hanging stars and the night sky neither moved nor changed, only casting an unchanging darkness and eerie chill.

Even humans, when they die, undergo decay—flesh rotting away, revealing bones—but this dead world showed not a single trace of change.

Thus, while Aslan couldn’t be certain, he guessed that at least a full day had passed since he intertwined with No. 13.

During the act, due to the verbal command No. 13 had cast, he hadn’t paid much attention.

If anything, it was comforting to know that no matter how much time he spent here, it wouldn’t affect the timeline from which he had come.

‘A rest.’

It felt strange.

He hadn’t rested properly many times before.

Even when he had intended to relax, priests would ambush him without pause, eventually distancing Aslan from any notion of rest.

In fact, the last time he had even mentioned taking a break aloud was during his first year under Astak’s grueling training, when he had cried out in exhaustion.

Now, reflecting on those days, Aslan watched the starlit ocean splash against the sand.

Back then, he never imagined he’d cross into the future and intertwine with a comrade.

Especially not in such a beastly manner, treating No. 13 like a tool—something he would’ve never predicted.

The sigh that escaped him could be called a “sage’s moment.”

Feeling a dull ache in his lower back and abdomen spreading lazily throughout his body, Aslan sighed again.

The source of his current concern lay behind him, where No. 13 slept deeply within a blanket, lifeless as though dead.

Had they not intertwined, perhaps he wouldn’t have noticed, but now he was quite troubled.

Simply taking her along posed problems.

First, there was the Dark Ram’s response to consider.

Aslan knew better than anyone what this future version of No. 13 could do and the power she possessed.

She was a comrade who had reached the so-called “maximum level.”

Her mana far surpassed Aslan’s, and her mere words could become commands. She wielded supreme magic that Aslan hadn’t seen even when he was Lee Hyun-woo.

As evidenced by her ability to withstand the Abyss with overwhelming firepower, she was extraordinary.

Recalling how the Dark Ram reacted whenever something abnormal became part of Aslan’s strength, simply bringing her along blindly wasn’t an option.

That was also why he planned to take only her soul, leaving her physical form behind.

Though it meant she wouldn’t be able to use her usual magic, perhaps the Dark Ram might make allowances for it.

Another reason was that he didn’t want to abandon a comrade who had waited so long just because the Dark Ram cared.

But beyond these practical reasons, Aslan looked at No. 13, who slept peacefully yet intricately.

Fragile, with a slender figure, she appeared both as a girl and a woman—an ambiguous age bracket.

Aslan had intertwined with her.

Given the several awkward situations he had faced after similar acts with his traveling party, this too would undoubtedly lead to complications.

Would this future No. 13 try to hide the fact that she had intertwined with Aslan?

Considering the deep affection she had shown him, probably not.

Rather, it was more likely she would openly flaunt it to the others.

Hiding in Aslan’s bedroom or pretending to have a sore waist in front of everyone.

Perhaps even more overt actions than that.

Then, how would Aslan explain this future No. 13’s deep affection and behavior to the rest of the group?

It wasn’t easy to answer straightforwardly.

Aslan briefly considered various possibilities but realized that none would lead to a smooth resolution.

So, he sighed once more.

Even aside from that, this future No. 13 was quite problematic.

She was identical to the No. 13 who existed in Aslan’s timeline.

The only differences were their histories and the feelings they held for Aslan; otherwise, their bodies and minds were completely the same.

If this future No. 13 went to Aslan’s timeline, she might replace the existing No. 13.

In that case, the position of the original No. 13 would become ambiguous.

On the other hand, keeping both versions would also create issues.

This future No. 13’s power was too potent to exclude from the team.

Furthermore, how would she be treated, and how would her presence be explained?

Nothing about it was simple.

Every solution he came up with had glaring flaws upon further consideration.

When he tried to focus on solving the problem, the methods seemed crude, and if they weren’t crude, their feasibility was questionable.

With every passing moment, Aslan’s depleted energy was inversely proportional to the calm and wisdom that seeped in, until finally, a headache set in.

Lost in thought, Aslan sighed again.

One thought led to another.

Aslan recalled the subtle tension flowing among the women in his traveling party and lamented his inability to resolve it.

Lewena, who had been his wife, maintained a surprisingly calm demeanor, even encouraging such disputes rather than resolving them.

Unlike Lewena, Angie, Lumel, and Ereta actively monitored each other.

Caught between their watchful eyes, Aslan could only break out in cold sweat.

Ultimately, some kind of adjustment and resolution would have to be made.

Choosing one alone was difficult.

Especially considering that Aslan was the one who kept the group united, it was even harder.

Above all, Aslan didn’t want to reject the relationships he had with them or the affection they gave him.

Who wouldn’t want to be loved?

Selecting one person and abandoning the rest felt burdensome to Aslan.

It might even be cruel, despite the difficulty.

Torn between his desires and practicality, Aslan leaned against a pillar, shifting his stance.

Retracting his gaze from the window, Aslan silently rolled a name around in his mouth.

Phey.

An elf who couldn’t refuse him, yet wasn’t easy to accept.

How would Phey react if she found out that he had intertwined with this future No. 13?

Especially given that Phey already seemed to dislike No. 13.

Aslan, who had planned to handle matters in the Public Kingdom of Huedail upon returning, couldn’t decide whether it would be better to bring this future No. 13 along or meet her privately.

Each option had its pros and cons, and Aslan hesitated to choose.

While lost in thought and time flowed insensitively,

Aslan sensed movement behind him.

“Ahh…”

Turning his head, he saw No. 13.

Her usual robe, soaked, had been removed to dry, revealing her unclothed form.

Blinking her dragon-like eyes, she stared at Aslan for a moment before breaking into a gentle smile.

Still caught in the afterglow of pleasure, her expression was hazy.

Seeing Aslan, her joy overflowed, and she clumsily approached him, wrapped in the blanket.

Shuffling forward until she reached the edge of the bed, she hesitated momentarily like a water buffalo facing a cliff before awkwardly standing up.

Small feet stepped on the damp wooden floor.

A frail, small body that barely proved her adulthood.

Managing to balance her frame, which was two heads shorter than Aslan, she approached and embraced him.

Their skin touched. The lower abdomen Aslan had caressed through the night pressed against his leg, and her warm breath tickled his back, filled with happiness.

Her desire was obvious. Aslan extended his hand and stroked her cheek.

Mana flowed from Aslan’s right hand, dispersing No. 13’s own mana. In response, No. 13 closed her eyes happily and spoke.

“Good morning.”

Was it morning? Aslan didn’t know. All he could see were stars and the sea.

It must be something only she, who could manipulate time magic, could sense. Accepting this as his guess, Aslan smiled.

“Yeah, good morning.”

Like a cat to its owner, No. 13 rubbed her cheek against Aslan’s hand.

Her voluminous hair carried a rich fruity scent, refreshing due to the sweat from the night.

Simultaneously, the blanket covering her body emitted a sticky smell, likely from Aslan’s own sweat.

All of it seemed to prove the passionate activities of the sleepless night, making Aslan blush slightly in embarrassment.

Despite succumbing to lust, their coupling had been excessively animalistic.

Fortunately, No. 13 possessed elven regenerative capabilities; otherwise, there might have been serious consequences.

Facing No. 13, Aslan adjusted the blanket that barely covered her nakedness.

“Aslan, additional usage desired?”

After adjusting the blanket, Aslan stroked her cheek, prompting No. 13 to close one eye and ask.

Was she still unsatisfied? A faint expectation lingered in her dragon-like eyes, difficult to read.

Recalling the intense pleasures of the night, Aslan momentarily considered yielding but quickly shook his head to resist the temptation.

There were things he needed to do.

Considering the rest they had already enjoyed, it was enough.

Pushing aside the tresses of her wavy light blue hair resting on No. 13’s cheek, Aslan said,

“Let’s do it later. Right now…”

His meaning was clear despite the vague phrasing. No. 13 glanced down, seemingly disappointed, then looked at a part of Aslan he hadn’t managed to cover before raising her head again.

“No. 13, regret.”

She reluctantly agreed.

Knowing that attempting to force herself would only result in Aslan interfering with her verbal commands, she complied.

Aslan smiled, and No. 13, sensing the subtle fatigue behind his smile, returned a satisfied grin.

After all, the fact that she had “consumed” him quite thoroughly remained undeniable.

They quickly dressed themselves.

Using magic and natural drying to clean the clothes dampened by bodily fluids, they helped each other get ready.

After a brief period, Aslan and No. 13 looked just as they had when they first entered the small house.

Since No. 13’s claim to show something was merely a pretext to intertwine, the outside remained unchanged despite their exit.

Still, it wasn’t a bad place to witness the end of the ruined world.

Aslan tightened his cloak against the breeze and turned to No. 13.

“Are you ready?”

No. 13 opened her mouth to respond with a smile, then quickly covered it with her hand.

Nodding shortly after.

Aslan thought it might take some time for her to get used to this process as he drew the bronze sword from his waist.

“Alright, then…”

The method Aslan and No. 13 had discussed was straightforward.

If No. 13 used all her mana to open and maintain a portal, Aslan would use the divine purity within himself to extract her soul.

Specifically, it was crucial that No. 13 performed this action while directly in contact with purity.

The key to this plan depended on when Aslan could sense No. 13’s soul.

However, for Aslan, who had used the gates of the afterlife countless times and interacted with souls multiple times, this presented no difficulty.

All that remained was explaining to the group that he had brought back this future version of No. 13.

Certainly, it would cause headaches and complications, but the group would accept it.

Trying to think optimistically, Aslan turned back to No. 13.

And froze at the sight of No. 13 frozen mid-smile alongside another woman.

She walked barefoot like No. 13 and Phey, but not out of divine protection—it was purely a matter of preference.

The dress she wore was long and pristine white. Despite the dirty ground, it remained immaculately white.

Moreover, horns adorned her head.

Around her neck, she wore her extremely long hair tied like a scarf.

The world, which had been eerily devoid of time, solidified with the arrival of this transcendent being, finally proving that time did indeed exist.

Among the frozen world, Aslan saw the only other person moving freely—a woman who placed her arm on No. 13’s shoulder with a relaxed expression.

“Valerie.”

At the sound of her name, the woman with goat-like horns twitched her eyebrows.