〈 Chapter 431 〉 Number 13
Number 13 heard another one of her own voices.
She was clearly pleading for help.
If only it were a mere summer daydream, but Number 13 soon realized she couldn’t dismiss it as just a dream.
The dream flowed with mana.
No, not just the dream itself—everything that constituted the dream was made of mana.
Her subconscious, the flow of memories guiding her consciousness, even the mirage-like landscapes that appeared before her eyes—all were crafted from mana.
And the woman beloved by magic could perceive that it was formed from an overwhelming amount of mana, far exceeding her own reserves.
But that was all.
For some reason, the abundant mana did nothing.
It neither attacked her in her current state nor bestowed her with strength.
It didn’t hint at any future or whisper ominous possibilities.
It simply asked for help and then faded into the hazy landscape.
What baffled Number 13 the most was this very phenomenon.
The lack of causality clouded her focus.
Left with nothing but unresolved questions, Number 13 had to contemplate what kind of dream this truly was.
She pondered its intent for a long while and even consulted Anna Helmenius.
Anna hinted that dreams are direct conduits to the soul, favored even by evil deities, and Number 13 conjured several fearful possibilities.
Eventually, as night fell and she drifted to sleep, Number 13 wondered if what she faced was some kind of evil deity.
She decided to avoid getting entangled in whatever dreams might come.
However, that wasn’t how things unfolded.
As if anticipating her thoughts, an anomaly occurred.
When Number 13 fell asleep, she dreamed.
In the dream, Number 13 was slightly different from her usual self.
Instead of the elegant and active dress given to her by Anna, she wore tattered robes reminiscent of her time as an experiment subject.
She was Number 13, living in a world vastly different from the history she knew—a different version of herself.
The first peculiarity she noticed was the absence of Tiyalmisof from the Anurutin Council.
She had already died.
And they quickly learned who had killed her; the entire council trembled as they uttered his name.
The Godslayer, the blade that slays specters, the Priest Slaughterer, the Emperor Executioner.
Aslan.
Tiyalmisof had died before even reaching the Anurutin Council.
Because she was a specter.
And without Tiyalmisof’s conviction, the Anurutin Council Number 13 knew was starkly different.
First, their technology was lacking.
Ados was completed only after much effort, born much later than intended.
Moreover, her treatment was different.
Without Tiyalmisof’s conviction, the council saw her merely as a forceful means and material to lead them to the next stage.
A somewhat rare magical ingredient, nothing more.
There was no “respect for the work” present in Tiyalmisof.
Thus, the Number 13 in the dream endured immense suffering soon enough.
It was a pain akin to having her soul torn apart. Torture would be a fitting term.
She was forced compulsively to learn magic.
Though acquired somewhat forcibly, its power and completion were greatly diminished, yet this inadequacy only pushed her harder.
The council exploited her recklessly, like handling a carelessly wielded sword, and further dissected her through experiments.
Literally.
She discovered the color of her creator for the first time and, amidst her agony, had to remind herself that this wasn’t her pain but the pain of dreams or souls.
This Number 13, trapped in the dream, lived in suffering and fear.
Yet, she yearned for the outside world and longed for the night sky she occasionally glimpsed.
An understandable emotion.
Immersed in empathy for this other self, Number 13 observed the passing time.
By the time she could quantify her suffering, Aslan arrived at the Anurutin Council.
“We seek an alliance.”
Ados spoke, and Aslan gazed earnestly at her.
The pursuits of the traveling party and the needs of the council aligned perfectly.
The party desired the veterans and support held by the council, while the council hoped for the party’s strength and a solid place within the alliance.
The formidable power possessed by Aslan’s group represented a possibility in itself.
With matching pursuits and goals, the alliance seemed ready to form swiftly.
Until Number 13 met Aslan.
The moment when, after enduring abuse in the test tube, her eyes met Aslan’s.
While silently looking into the despair-filled eyes of Number 13, Aslan clenched his fists.
And so, what happened?
Before Number 13 could wonder, the dream dissipated.
In its place stood another version of herself, startled.
Their eyes met, and the current Number 13 realized she was the future version of herself.
Another timeframe rightly called the future.
In the Ruined Geladridion, Number 13 lay asleep.
Seemingly guarding her, Aslan sat nearby, while Valerie perched on a table, swinging her legs, a little distance away.
She often disappeared and reappeared, always seeming present yet oddly absent.
Thus, Aslan learned to ignore Valerie and instead focused on observing Number 13, learning to read her magic.
The sleeping Number 13.
She was now asleep under the effects of her own word magic and spells.
Number 13’s word magic was a tool enabling boundless and limitless spell construction.
Just as felt when overlapping navels, there seemed to be no limit to this magic.
Of course, it required immense mana and preparation.
Still, this capability existed purely because she was Number 13.
Even Aslan, despite possessing the same level of mana, would find it impossible.
Aslan looked down at the woman capable of contacting another version of himself across timelines via the medium of soul and dreams, his eyes sparkling.
She was remarkable.
Despite the risks involved in dreams directly connecting to the soul in Geladridion, her immediate compliance upon Aslan’s suggestion was astonishing.
A seemingly blind act.
Not entirely positive, but nonetheless, she carried out the plan diligently.
Everything followed Aslan’s plan and Valerie’s predictions.
But Number 13 didn’t move solely according to the plan and predictions.
She had a story to convey to her past self, even if the plan failed.
She tried to speak but no words came out; her soul spoke for her.
A side effect of word magic.
An unexpected one.
She thought.
“The me of the future and the me of the present are the same person.”
Essentially, both Number 13s were the same being, sharing the same soul.
Being uniquely singular, their souls were completely identical.
Even though the events they went through and their methods of birth differed, it was still the case.
Perhaps it was fate.
The side effect of this fate was simple.
It was the memory of the future Number 13 seen by the present Number 13.
Thus, the experiences and memories of the present Number 13 also reached the future Number 13.
They read each other’s experiences and memories.
Every time they fell asleep, dreamed, and made eye contact.
The present Number 13 witnessed the pain and endless waiting experienced by her future self.
The future Number 13 felt the innocence and faint sense of powerlessness harbored by her present self.
Naturally, the initial intention of conveying tasks and seeking agreement shifted.
Without consultation, the two women remained silent upon meeting.
They simply dreamed.
The future Number 13 repeatedly viewed the short history of events experienced by the present Number 13.
The present Number 13 saw numerous incidents endured by her future self.
A vast span of time dominated by loss.
Measuring, experiencing, and witnessing.
Number 13 understood Number 13.
The future Number 13 was saved by Aslan.
Recognizing this by seeing the Number 13 who wasn’t saved, she recalled the moment of her salvation, a memory flowing like a stream between the present and future Number 13.
Certainly a helpful force, perhaps even blind loyalty, was offered by the council.
Skilled wizards.
Despite rejecting them, severing them with a sword, Aslan chose the inadequate Number 13 who couldn’t even properly use magic or attack others.
Choosing the half-penny Number 13, he cut down those who stood in his way.
Cutting down every desperate mage, he saved Number 13.
When the test tube was severed and liquid poured out, dropping Number 13, Aslan caught her and wrapped her in his cloak.
The warmth of their touching bodies and his gentle expression saying “It’s okay,” was something the future Number 13 would never forget for the rest of her life.
On the other hand, the present Number 13 hadn’t accumulated many memories or experiences.
She hadn’t spent much time with the traveling party, hadn’t fallen in love with Aslan yet.
But through seeing the experiences of her future self, she understood the party better.
She carefully observed her future companions.
There was Angie, a close friend like someone of the same generation, who approached her conversationally.
Then there was Ereta, who treated Number 13 kindly but also teased her affectionately.
The unreserved woman left a deep impression on Number 13, and the Elven Girl entered her life with a significant presence.
Though the Elven Girl Phey seemed to dislike Number 13, she quietly comforted or healed her whenever she was sad, lonely, or hurt.
It felt like having an older sister, providing a sense of security.
There was also Tiamat, who acknowledged Number 13 as part of the dragon despite his melancholy gaze.
Lumel, who took charge of the party’s meals yet shared countless joyful stories, was indispensable.
Richard, who seemed clumsy but lifted the often somber atmosphere like a close sibling, was also present.
Finally, there was Lewena, whose intentions were unreadable but always prepared snacks whenever Number 13 visited.
Number 13 admired her maturity, maintaining a good relationship.
They were Number 13’s family.
The few remaining family members of the future Number 13, after losing Ados and Tiyalmisof.
To her, this party was everything.
And the future Number 13 couldn’t protect them.
Due to insufficient strength, missed opportunities, and mistakes.
Unable to succeed.
Instinctively, she thought.
Taking in all visible futures, engraving them in her heart.
Number 13 didn’t want to lose the family she had chosen.
She also didn’t want to leave the tragic future she’d reached untouched.
Moreover, she wanted to be happy. Since she was herself, she wished for happiness.
Instinctively, she knew the solution.
Both versions of Number 13 realized it simultaneously.
One thought she could protect these people now and wouldn’t lose them again.
The other hoped to regain the happiness she had lost.
Since both were the same entity, they reached the same thought simultaneously.
Exceeding Aslan’s expectations and surpassing Valerie’s assumptions.
At the horizon where souls meet, freed from the dream,
Number 13 looked at each other.
Her delicate hand stretched forward.
With a touch, cracks began spreading in all directions.
Where their hands touched simultaneously, there was something mirror-like.
A colossal barrier stretching from the distant horizon to the edge of the sky.
Countless mirrors resembling a kaleidoscope.
Between the spreading cracks, their hands were connected.
It was the countless branches of time and Valerie’s shadow.
In the dream, the hands of Number 13 touched.
When the two women interlocked their fingers, the kaleidoscope shattered.
[Number 13]
[Level: 8]
[Remaining Ability Points: 21]
[Strength 1] [Agility 3] [Health 2]
[Mana 13] [Spirit 1] [Luck 5]
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