No longer were there knights striking the defensive barrier created by Isis. They all charged toward a single target instead of the Emperor they originally intended to take down.

Of course, despite this, Isis could not lift the defensive magic. Although the immediate danger was swept away by the Hero Elysia, there was no guarantee that the enemies’ schemes would end with just the infected royal knights.

Thus, all the Emperor and Isis could do was watch.

It was a precarious situation. No matter how skilled a Sword Master was, holding off dozens of royal knights alone was not merely challenging; it was an unreasonable expectation. A Sword Master, after all, is still human. Wounded, they bleed, and if they bleed too much, they die.

The Sword Master is definitely not invincible.

For this reason, the Emperor, sitting high above, thought about destiny. What does it even mean to have a destiny? Destiny is something that cannot be changed by mere human power. If only she had taken care of herself early on, she might have saved her life.

Even when the sword of the first knight barely missed a handful of her sparkling hair, or when the blade of the second knight almost marred her beautiful face, or when the third knight’s blade tore her cloak, revealing a glimpse of her skin—at no point did the Emperor’s thoughts waver.

Though she was dodging well for now, there is a limit to this narrow tightrope walk. Eventually, she would tire and take at least one wound, and one wound could quickly multiply. In the end, she would surely fall.

It was certain, yet why did she not give up? Why was she smiling? Why did she shine so brightly?

“How envy-inducing…”

The Emperor didn’t even notice his own voice slip out. All her senses were solely directed at Elysia at that moment.

Whoosh!

At that moment, the knight who swung his sword aiming at Elysia created a loud sound cutting through the empty air. It was an attack that seemed difficult to evade given the lack of visibility from the angle, yet she dodged as if she had eyes on the back of her head.

Bam!

The knight struck by her Holy Sword was sent flying into the wall with a fearsome force. Despite being knocked down repeatedly, that knight had continued to charge at Elysia, but now lay limp, unable to rise again.

In the midst of catching her breath, Elysia’s movements became even more agile, and her attacks grew sharper. The Holy Sword she held was no longer merely shining; it was blazing with fire.

“No matter how much of a Sword Master she is, what on earth is that…?”

A voice of surprise escaped from Isis, who was watching alongside the Emperor. The Emperor, too, remained silent but was equally shocked.

Though the number of Sword Masters is limited, many already exist within the Empire. Having seen their swords many times, Isis understood how much a Sword Master stands beyond common sense. Yet, the strength Elysia displayed now was at an absurd level.

Her current strength far surpassed what had been reported and seen; it was not merely a matter of swordsmanship. There was a mystery embedded in her sword that could not even be described as magic.

Suddenly, Elysia, leaping among the knights, locked eyes with the Emperor.

In that fleeting moment, the Emperor saw his own face reflected in Elysia’s red eyes. Though it seemed impossible to see from such a distance, he could clearly make it out. Only then did he realize that he had always been fixated on a number steadily approaching its end.

5

Had he been so engrossed in watching that this much time had passed? There were merely 5 seconds left. There wasn’t even enough time to leave a last message. At best, he had time for a simple farewell.

4

Should he say goodbye? Should he apologize? Or maybe thank them? He struggled with how to say goodbye, hoping to avoid any regrets, but the Emperor could not choose.

3

While he was lost in thought, Elysia’s prowess continued, leaving only around ten royal knights surrounding her.

3

At this rate, even if he were to die, Elysia and Isis would likely be safe. His remaining worry diminished entirely. Though there was regret, there was truly no more room for regret.

3

However, no matter how long he waited, that number froze at 3 and did not decrease any further. Perhaps it was just that time feels longer right before death, but from what he could see around him, that wasn’t the case.

Then came the suspicion, followed by the realization after some time. Truly, the clock hand marking the end of destiny had stopped. Elysia had declared that her fate did not end here. How easily it had happened.

“The Sword Master transcends common sense, and the Hero transcends destiny.”

Even Elysia, engaged in battle, did not realize it, but the Emperor, stepping back to observe, understood why Elysia could exert such formidable power.

That power was indeed the true strength of a Hero.

The five lives Selian had repeated were merely fragments of that Heroic strength. After all, in the face of power that defies destiny, regressing a few times is trivial.

Selian likely never grasped what true Heroic strength meant, only wishing for one thing: to meet Elysia again. However, resurrecting Elysia, who had already died, was impossible, so instead, he had wished for it through regression.

What chance had sparked this awakening? Staring hard into Elysia’s eyes, the Emperor understood who she was looking at.

Then, without thinking, he smiled faintly.

Jealousy. For the Emperor, who had lived a life indulging in everything, it was an unfamiliar emotion. He had never thought he would experience such feelings.

He had heard that jealousy is indeed one of the ugliest emotions, but it was not unpleasant. Rather, the feeling of jealousy, felt for the first time, was more delightful than discomforting. Of course, that didn’t mean he had any intention of being a mere bystander.

Pausing his useless thoughts, the Emperor slowly raised his hand. There were still things left to be done.

Though the number that indicated the end of destiny had stopped, his Insight still revealed much. But now, the Emperor no longer needed such things.

The Insight he had possessed since birth was no different from a part of his body. He could not imagine being without it, just as he could not imagine being without fingers or toes.

Of course, Insight had shown him many things. It had revealed the truths of this world. Every aspect of the world viewed through Insight felt foolish.

But he finally realized.

With his raised hand, the Emperor grasped the letters shown by Insight. They must merely be intangible illusions visible only to him, yet his hand clearly held those illusions. He could feel nothing, but he knew undoubtedly.

At the same time, pain shot through his eyes. A pain reminiscent of squeezing one’s eyes shut made a slight wrinkle form on the Emperor’s brow. The more he tightened his grip, the greater the pain grew.

Yet the Emperor lightly dismissed the pain and lifted his other hand as well. Just like his right hand, his left hand grasped the letters visible beyond his view.

Crrrack!

With the exertion of strength, the letters began to tear in half.

Simultaneously, Insight cried out in pain. It urged him to stop the foolish act. Blood instead of tears welled at the corners of the Emperor’s eyes, but he never faltered amidst the pain.

If Insight were to vanish, the one who would suffer most would be none other than the Emperor himself. How could he discern his opponent’s thoughts? He would struggle to tell who his loyal subjects were and who were traitors. Without understanding the true identities of his enemies, he would likely not recognize the approaching assassin. And there would be countless other difficulties, too.

But it did not matter. The Emperor no longer needed Insight. He finally realized how much he had been bound to that Insightful existence.

She had shown him. Proved it. If one cannot believe in oneself, nothing can be achieved. On the contrary, believing in oneself allows one to accomplish anything.

The foolishness lies with oneself.

Crack!

As he tightened his grip with both hands, the persistent letters of Insight were torn apart. At that moment, blood tears that had been gathering at his eyes finally spilled down his cheeks.

Yet beyond the reddened view, the world he beheld with his true eyes was more beautiful than anything.

The Emperor’s eyes, once glowing with golden light, were now blackened as if extinguished, yet beyond those dark orbs shone a brightness never seen before.