The fate of a prophet is distrust.

In myths, legends, and fairy tales, prophecies are rarely fulfilled. When someone is warned to avoid danger, they are drawn to it like a magnet. When they are advised to follow a revelation, they scoff and trample it underfoot.

Jiekhrund, who was convinced that I was a prophet, planted the seeds of distrust in my friends.

“Think about it. Huey, who saw through the plans of a Six-Star General and his disguises in an instant—why didn’t he stop the tragedy of Hameln? With his knowledge and abilities, he should have seen through Nicholas’s plan in advance.”

“That’s… twisted logic!”

“And why did Nicholas even attempt such a forbidden act in the first place? It was because Huey, despite his potential, lacked real talent. And who was the one who led you to stop Nicholas? It was Huey. As a result, Huey succeeded in planting a bomb like Historia right in the heart of the Military State. He made someone who would betray the Military State at the most crucial moment, for personal reasons, into a Six-Star General!”

Siahti had already been freed. Yet, instead of attacking Jiekhrund, she just stared at me, her face twisted in anguish, as if the emotions she wanted to express were choking her throat, unable to be formed into words.

‘It worked. Of course it did. Prophets have always been the target of hatred and persecution. The Holy Church only shifted that reality in their favor…’

Jiekhrund, satisfied that his words had taken root, let out a small chuckle and continued.

“So, the logic is simple! If the Piper has a power close to omniscience or foresight, or something akin to it—why did he allow the children of Hameln to die? Why didn’t he see through the Grand Instructor’s forbidden plan? It’s simple—because he intended for it all to happen! That’s the only explanation!”

“No!”

Historia, compared to the others, was in a better state.

Her guilt was directed at herself for being unable to act at that time. Whether I was the cause or not, she was consumed by the sin of letting the tragedy she could have prevented unfold before her eyes.

But did she feel the same way toward me as she had before? No, that was no longer the case.

“Don’t listen to him! This is his ploy! He’s trying to create internal discord!”

“A plan that began long before my machinations, or should I call it fate! Before accusing me, shouldn’t you question him first, Historia?!”

Historia shouted louder, trying to drown out Jiekhrund’s voice, but the voice of the master of disguise wasn’t so easily silenced. His words still pierced through, making Historia grip me tightly.

“Huey! Quick, say something! You just got caught up in all this, right?!”

Even Historia, who wanted to believe in me, couldn’t completely rid herself of the growing doubt. The glances filled with suspicion and blame were overwhelming. Whether I stayed silent or spoke up, I couldn’t escape this swamp of doubt.

Honestly, it’s true that I got caught up in it all. But there were plenty of opportunities to escape, countless ways to run away.

And yet, I remained in Hameln. I knew Nicholas’s plan would lead to the children’s deaths, but I followed through with it anyway.

Because…

“I did get caught up in it. He’s not wrong. I knew about Nicholas’s plan.”

“…Huey?”

“And I still went along with it. Because that’s what Nicholas wanted.”

Historia recoiled, taken aback by my sudden change in tone. I pushed past her and took a step forward.

Toward a terrified Siahti and a gleeful Jiekhrund.

‘You finally decided to speak, didn’t you? Yes, there’s no avoiding it now. Someone who has built everything by using the power of others can’t afford to lose trust!’

That’s true. But there’s something else.

Regardless of Jiekhrund’s guesses, I’m nothing more than an ordinary person with a bit of mind-reading ability. I don’t have some grand, prophetic mystery.

But I don’t need to be completely honest. Do you know how I survived in Tantalos?

“Jiekhrund, why do you think I let Nicholas carry out his plan up until the moment he committed the forbidden act? Care to guess?”

“To fulfill the prophecy, of course.”

“No. It’s because I had to let him pursue his wish.”

“…His wish?”

Yes, his wish.

Nicholas may have been a calculating man who treated people beneath his standards with disdain, but before that incident, he was a kind instructor to me. Even the act of committing the forbidden ritual was his way of forcefully creating an opportunity for me to obtain power.

Oh, and no, I’m not grateful in the slightest. He was just fulfilling his own desires.

“He wanted to contribute to the Military State. He wanted to force power upon me, someone who could potentially become a Six-Star General or even surpass that, if only I had the strength.”

“But you didn’t accept it. The Holy Church rejects the idea of the forbidden.”

“No, that’s not it. It wasn’t because it was forbidden. It was because that power would have changed me. I, who must maintain a constant state of equilibrium, had to resist it. So I joined forces with my friends who had the same goal, and we stopped him.”

Nicholas lacked the strength to see his will through. So, he lost. The children achieved a resounding victory against their instructor.

“But despite winning, the children lost what they truly wanted. They participated in the graduation trials hoping to gain recognition from the country, but all they learned was that the country had abandoned them. They grew to resent and hate the Military State.”

Jiekhrund’s laughter slowly faded.

“…So, you’ve come to topple the Military State, as per their wish?”

“No. Very few people have the desire to topple an entire nation. A country is too vast and intangible, even for those who live within it, to comprehend what it truly is. How can you hate something you can’t even grasp? In a kingdom, you can aim for the king. But in a nation like the Military State, where there is no king, who do you strike down?”

“Then what was their wish?”

“It was the most irresponsible and burdensome wish in the world.”

And it’s also the most common wish in the world. Lowering my gaze, I murmured,

“They wanted to be remembered.”

Even if they had no will or strength to continue living, even if they met their end, they wished for their deaths to have meaning. They wanted someone to understand their suffering and despair.

“But there is no heaven or hell in this world. There is no afterlife. Naturally, there’s no one left to remember them except themselves.”

Death is the end in and of itself. Beyond that, there’s nothing. It’s just another name for stillness.

Like a stone that stops rolling when it hits something, or a cloud that transforms into rain, death is a natural result. No metaphysical or supernatural meaning imposed on it is anything more than a delusion.

But I cannot abandon even that small wish.

“I am the smallest columbarium in the world. A library for the forgotten.”

I remember all who have passed. Because that was their wish.

There is no meaning in death. The cry that they faced death is a hollow excuse, a promise they have no intention of keeping.

But somewhere, someone is slowly repaying that irresponsible debt. Because that’s their wish.

“The Piper.”

I led the lost children, showing them how to fight their formidable enemies. And I remember them as I repeat their stories.

“The doctor from the East. The passing scholar. The wandering mercenary. The reclusive sage. The mendicant monk. The traveler. These were the names I’ve been called.”

Breaking taboos, crossing forbidden boundaries, defying prohibitions—all in pursuit of unachievable desires.

That’s the type of character that exists in one story or another, whether it’s a fairy tale, a play, a legend, or an epic.

“Just an ordinary person.”

I didn’t reveal everything, but everything I said was true. No matter how much they suspect or dig, they won’t find any contradictions.

In the end, Jiekhrund, unable to find any inconsistencies, concluded that what I said must be true.

‘There are similar tales in folklore. Chests that summon nightmares or lamps that grant wishes. But can a mere human possess such mysteries…?’

My identity is a mind-reader. When faced with the raw desires of others, if it’s within my power, I help fulfill them. If I can, that is.

So, by hiding my mind-reading ability and emphasizing that part, it wasn’t a lie.

Jiekhrund, still clinging to his earlier theory, tested me again.

“…You’re not a prophet sent by the Holy Church?”

“Of course not. After the first saint was nailed to the cross, only saints can prophesy. How could I, a man, be a prophet?”

“That can easily be fabricated. Perhaps a saint is manipulating you from behind the scenes, or you receive divine revelations. Or maybe you’ve hidden your gender somehow. There are plenty of ways to deceive others.”

Whether it was due to his transformation ability or professional training, he had a surprisingly open mind. If the regressor were here, I probably wouldn’t have been able to hide the fact that I’m male.

“Wow, so I’m actually a woman, a saint no less? Well, I must say, that last option is the most appealing! I’ve always wanted to experience life in a woman’s body at least once!”

Clapping my hands together as if a sudden idea came to me, I pointed at Jiekhrund.

“Speaking of which, we have an expert on body transformation right here. You just changed from Historia to Carrafald a moment ago, right? So, how does it feel to be a man? Or should I ask, how does it feel to be a woman? Jiekhrund, what’s your true form?”

“…It’s not something I should reveal, but there’s no point in hiding it from you. It’s disrespectful to wear a dead friend’s face, anyway.”

Muttering something suspicious that only a human without a conscience would say, Jiekhrund covered his face with his hand and shifted his bones. With a cracking sound, his bones and muscles rearranged themselves under the pressure of ki, while his hair turned jet black from the roots.

Returning to his ‘true form’ was much faster and more natural than his transformation. He must be constantly reminding himself of his original appearance in his mind.

A man with a clean-cut, model-like appearance emerged. He was the kind of person who was unremarkably average—like a blank canvas, in the worst way. His height was average, his build slightly lean. This was the ‘true form’ that had flickered in Jiekhrund’s mind whenever I read his thoughts.

“This? You’re going to tell me this is your true form?”

No way.

“A featureless face. Average height. A moderately lean build. Is this supposed to be the body of a ki master? Come on, this looks like the default avatar settings in Archi.”

Jiekhrund replied without hesitation.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is me, Jiekhrund, the Six-Star General of the Military State.”

“Oh. So that’s your setup?”

Humans don’t imagine their faces in their minds. Because their face, their body, is always there.

Paradoxically, the fact that Jiekhrund constantly recalled his original body and reminded himself of its appearance meant…

“So, before you became a Six-Star General, what were you? What name and face did you live with? And before you learned transformation techniques, what was your face then?”

Jiekhrund’s face twitched. His blank, featureless face contorted with frustration. How fitting for someone who hides behind a mask.

And that’s why it couldn’t possibly be real.

Wiping the smile off my face, I pressed him further.

“Who are you, really?”