Snow began to settle on the ground, painting it white, though one section turned red.

The red stain on the fresh white snow spread out like diluted wine, its color faint yet vivid.

I’d never tasted wine before. A knight’s life didn’t allow for such indulgences. If I’d known things would end this way, I might’ve joined the other knights for a drink or two, sharing moments with those I held dear.

Schluck.

The spear that had pierced my chest was pulled out, leaving a hollow sensation in its wake. Strength drained from my body as my breath grew shallow.

"Raydan!"

I heard a scream from below—Oko’s voice.

How ironic.

Even with Gaea’s meddling, I’d somehow forgotten the person most important to me.

Yet, I felt a strange gratitude toward my own body. Even in this dire moment, the creed of a knight prevailed—I had managed to save someone in danger.

And that someone was Oko, which made it all the more worthwhile.

"What… what just happened?"

The Knight Commander’s expression contorted as he stared at me, the weight of his actions dawning on him.

It seemed that stabbing me with the Spear of Longinus had broken Gaea’s control over him.

Perhaps Gaea had kept her twisted promise—that upon my death, memories would be restored. Strange how even someone as wicked as her had a sense of honor in the oddest places.

The Knight Commander’s gaze fixed on me, his expression filled with regret.

"What… Raydan… what have I done? Raydan!"

He turned and bolted.

He was likely running to find a healer. It was just like him—when knights were injured fighting the empire’s riffraff, he’d always prioritize their survival above all else. His actions had often raised their chances of survival.

But it was meaningless now.

I had been struck by the Spear of Longinus, a weapon that even divine beings couldn’t recover from unless healed by extraordinary means.

I could faintly sense Oko pouring her powers into me, but my body refused to respond.

Couldn’t she simply reverse time, as she had before?

No, it wasn’t that simple. She had once explained that when fate itself moved to take someone’s life, her powers couldn’t interfere.

And I had made the choice to sacrifice myself.

Still, I felt no regret.

Not even a sliver.

The strength in my body waned.

Ah, so this is what it feels like to die.

Humans, they say, feel their deepest sorrow when they are cold, hungry, and alone.

Perhaps the dread of death comes from the convergence of all three sensations.

I reached out instinctively, grasping Oko’s arm for comfort.

"Raydan!"

"…Haha, Oko. Stop. You’ll exhaust yourself."

"If exhausting myself means saving you, then of course—"

"…You know as well as I do that it’s futile," I interrupted, trying to soothe her.

I stroked her trembling arm, feeling her raw, unfiltered fear.

I had saved her to ensure she could live on, yet that choice now seemed like a heavy burden for her.

But Oko was strong.

Stronger than anyone I knew.

She had hidden her identity as one of the Four Supremes all this time. Among them, Oko and Afta had always stood out.

It should’ve been obvious to me—the ability to see only what she wanted to, to record events subjectively.

Her power wasn’t just reality manipulation as described in fictional tales; it was something far greater.

Greater than Demeter’s life-concept authority.

Greater even than Gaea’s overwhelming power of creation, as she now stood there, stunned and defeated.

To someone like Oko, I was nothing more than a fleeting mortal.

And that was fine.

"…Why?"

A voice broke the silence—it was Gaea’s.

"Why would you do that?"

"…It is a knight’s duty to save those in danger," I replied weakly.

"Don’t give me that nonsense!" she snapped, her face twisting in anger. "Do you think I can accept such a trite excuse? You’re human, aren’t you? A creature steeped in selfish desires! Why didn’t you live selfishly, as you were meant to? What, do you think you’re the protagonist of some story? Do you think you’ll come back to life just because you died heroically?!"

Her outburst was filled with desperation, as though my actions had shattered her core beliefs.

She was unraveling, her confidence in her convictions crumbling.

I let out a faint laugh.

Imagine being scolded by the root of all evil for doing something virtuous.

But wasn’t this the highest honor for a knight?

If the embodiment of malice detested me, it meant I had lived righteously.

Still, I felt pity for her.

Maybe I should say something to console her, even if just a little.

"Gaea."

"…!"

"The humans you’ve seen—they may seem like creatures consumed by greed, biting and clawing at one another, stealing and destroying. Yes, they can be filthy beings. But…"

My throat constricted, the act of speaking becoming a struggle.

Even breathing felt like an uphill battle, but I forced my muscles to work, my words clawing their way out.

"…And yet, every one of them acts for a reason," I said, forcing the words out.

"…"

"Conquering vast lands? It’s often so their descendants can live a better life. Stealing? Yes, there are those with malicious intent, but many do it out of desperation to provide for their families. And even that, if condemned outright, would leave no creature fit to survive in this world. After all, even animals in the wild fight and bite to survive."

As I spoke my last words, I felt my diaphragm begin to freeze, the first sign of complete paralysis.

The pain was sharper than I expected—a burning sensation from the inability to move what should have moved naturally.

To die in the arms of someone precious to me.

It felt strangely poetic, reminding me of the Emperor’s final moments.

Looking around, I saw the knights approaching, their spears drawn.

Among them was the Knight Commander, returning with a healer. The blood on his spear stood out starkly against the falling snow.

"Stop talking, Raydan! You can still be saved!" Oko cried desperately.

"Oko…"

For the sake of this gentle yet mighty being, I forced a smile.

"…Thank you. Thank you for being with this wretched knight. The days I spent with you were more precious than anything else in this world."

Oko’s face twisted in panic. She shook her head, trying to say something, but I could no longer hear her.

As my consciousness faded, I held onto the sight of her, the very last thing I would see.

"Tell… Grandfather… I’m sorry…"

In those final moments, a fleeting thought crossed my mind—a twinge of regret.

Had Oko truly loved me as I did her?

If so, perhaps I should have confessed my feelings sooner.

But such thoughts were pointless now.

The Observer cradled Raydan Tantan in her arms.

Though his face bore a peaceful smile, it was clear to all that he had passed.

When the healer arrived to check on him, it was already far too late.

Even if he had been alive, the wounds inflicted by the Spear of Longinus were irreparable. Any intervention would have only delayed the inevitable.

The Observer forced herself to maintain a smile as she looked down at Raydan, though the pain in her heart was unbearable.

He had died saving her, even without his memories, choosing to protect a woman he didn’t even know.

As Raydan’s body stiffened further, the Observer ran her fingers over his lifeless form, making a decision—one extreme, yet the only way to see him again.

The Creator approached her.

Her eyes brimmed with sorrow, though she refrained from speaking immediately. She knew she had committed an irreversible wrong.

Yet the Observer did not lash out.

Finally, the Creator opened her mouth, her voice trembling.

"…Soon, the second princess will fully lose control. Out of jealousy at seeing divine beings and humans getting along, she will distort every divine form she can influence. Humans who witness these twisted forms will suffer devastating psychological damage. If you don’t want humanity to fall, you must lead the divine beings out of the empire now."

"…I understand," the Observer replied softly.

"The princess… her life has become nothing but torment. Even if she is rendered powerless, her life will not be taken. Humanity will survive."

"…I know."

The Creator’s composure broke.

"You… you’re such a fool!"

"…"

"Why won’t you even express your anger? Why won’t you curse me? I took away someone precious to you. Please, don’t just stand there like this…!"

"Because not everything has been lost yet," the Observer said gently.

"…What?"

The Creator, still bowed, lifted her head in confusion.

The Observer’s face was sorrowful, but her expression was not one of despair.

It was as if she had already discovered a solution.

"Gaea, there are more hidden factors in this world than even you realize," the Observer said. "Things beyond human science, philosophy, and your own understanding of creation."

"…"

"I don’t think you’re arrogant for what you’ve done. If anything, it’s your limited knowledge that led you to believe this was the only way. And yet… no one else has perished aside from Raydan and the Emperor. It’s not too late to make things right."

The Observer smiled faintly.

"So, Gaea, has this experience taught you anything valuable?"

"…"

How could the Observer remain so composed?

Moments ago, she had seemed desperate, yet now she exuded a calm confidence.

"…You."

"Gaea," the Observer said, "I don’t intend to exist in this world for much longer."

"…What do you mean? Don’t tell me—!"

The Creator’s face twisted in shock as she looked at the Observer, but the latter’s resolve was unshakable.

Nearby, the Recorder, Afta, approached nervously, her expression filled with worry.

The Observer turned to her with an apologetic smile.

"I’m sorry, Afta. I’m about to ask a great deal of you."

"…I understand."

"While I’m gone, look after Raydan for me. He’s clumsy and reckless—he’ll need your guidance whenever he’s about to make a mistake."

"…I will."

"Remember, a soul that has departed its body quickly moves on to another realm. To retrieve it, the body must first be imbued with life. In other words, a price must be paid."

Afta’s worried gaze lingered, but the Observer exhaled deeply, steadying herself.

"This is only until I return. And if you find something to replace Raydan’s life force, guide him onto the right path. Help him save this world. Perhaps by then… I’ll awaken as well."

"…There’s no guarantee."

"Even so, I must try. A world without Raydan is not one I want to see."

The Observer held Raydan’s hand, her body beginning to glow with a brilliant blue light.

Focusing her entire essence on Raydan, she gave him a soft, radiant smile.

"You were my reason to live, Raydan."

Her form grew increasingly translucent as her life force transferred into his body.

As a result, Raydan’s hair turned a snowy white, his eyes taking on her luminous blue hue.

"With my power, I hope you’ll see the truth," she whispered, her tears streaming down her face.

Even in her final moments, she smiled.

"For you, I’ll wait.

This is my final gift to you, Raydan."

With those words, the Observer, as a concept, did not vanish entirely but slipped into a quiet slumber.