Chapter 333
Episode 103: Records of the Past – Steward Leet Damiro Yul (3)
What the hell… is this nonsense?!
Silderay shouted in disbelief.
The record-keeping ability of the fairies, including Leet, had never once shown falsehood. Yet now, the record window was clearly filled with lies.
The five mage towers of the Palein Kingdom had been attacked by Runkandel last year, and the year before that as well.
Ugh!
Suddenly, Leet retched.
It was a dry heave born from the dissonance of history being rewritten right before her eyes.
Witnessing reality being manipulated in real time was far more mentally jarring than anyone could imagine.
We have to inform the stewards and scribes! We must write it down, we have to!
As Sara caught the staggering Leet, Diana shouted urgently. Just as she said, everyone here needed to keep recording this phenomenon before they completely forgot the truth of the altered history.
At her voice, the nearby magic swordsmen and guardian knights hurriedly rushed into the castle.
“Steward! Snap out of it! You can’t forget—what’s written in this record window is fake! Steward, steward!”
Leet trembled violently but gave no response.
Soon, she lost consciousness and collapsed, leaving only the bewildered voices of the ten knights to be swallowed by the howling storm.
Half a year had passed.
The stewards and scribes of the Storm Fortress no longer recorded the history of the fairies.
Because the fairies had been forgotten by the world.
Not completely erased from memory as if they never existed, but the truth—that the fairy king Leet Damiro Yul had once met Temar Runkandel and fought alongside him against Ziphl—had vanished.
The entire fairy race’s desperate struggle to stop Ziphl’s historical manipulation had been wiped away.
Now, the common folk only remembered that the fairies had long ago ‘perished.’
Even though thousands of fairies, forgotten by the world and even by themselves, still lived and breathed.
“I’m sorry, Leet.”
A man spoke softly, looking at her back.
It was Temar.
“There’s no need for you to apologize, Lord.”
When Temar didn’t reply, Leet continued.
“Do you really think the fairies were erased from history because I met you?”
“No. If you hadn’t met me, the fairies wouldn’t have fallen to Ziphl…”
“Lord, please don’t say such things. When Ziphl began rewriting history, who do you think was the first target? Runkandel? No, regardless of Runkandel, the fairies would have been the first to be erased.”
In fact, after becoming Runkandel’s steward, Leet had discovered Ziphl’s manipulation of fairy history.
She and Temar had met five years ago.
But the rewriting of fairy history had started eight years ago.
So she didn’t blame Temar for the erasure.
Instead, she felt deep gratitude toward him.
If she hadn’t met him, she would have lost herself like the others, forgotten by all.
“Thanks to the immense power you possess, Lord, I remain unforgotten and able to fight Ziphl. So please, never apologize to me again.”
Temar nodded solemnly.
“…And you, Lord, and the ten knights, we still remember that the fairies fought alongside Runkandel, don’t we? Solderet, Murakan, and Misha as well.”
The power Temar held was not limited to himself alone. Those deeply influenced by him also benefited from that power.
Thanks to this, the people Leet mentioned still accurately remembered fairy history.
But both of them knew that, over time, even they would slowly forget the fairies.
Only Temar was completely free from Ziphl’s historical manipulation.
When Runkandel attacked the Palein Kingdom’s mage towers six months ago, only Temar saw through the real-time falsification of history.
But human memory—
It inevitably wears down with time. Like people, memories cannot exist alone.
Without someone to hear or confirm them, memories eventually lose all power. They become meaningless.
“I worry about you, Lord.”
“What is there to worry about?”
“Everyone depends too much on you. And lately, you’ve been trying to carry too many people on your shoulders.”
Since realizing his influence could delay Ziphl’s rewriting of history, Temar had been trying to keep as many people close as possible.
“I’ve always had many people around me.”
“Of course. But you haven’t been meeting people without sleep like this before. When was the last time you actually rested? Ten days ago?”
“About that long, I suppose. But you know, I don’t really need sleep…”
“You’re still human, Lord. Not a god or a monster. If you keep going like this, even you will break down.”
Footsteps approached from outside.
“Lord, Steward.”
Sara entered the office with a grim expression.
Temar and Leet exchanged a glance. When Sara wasn’t joking, it was never good news.
“Since this morning, Padler has started forgetting fairy history. No matter how hard he tries, he just can’t recall it…”
Even when the other ten knights told him stories about the fairies, Padler couldn’t understand them.
And within minutes of hearing, he would forget again.
The world was becoming a vast stage, soaked in Ziphl’s twisted preferences.
Within that play, the members of Runkandel were slowly gripped by terror.
No matter how strong one’s will, it was impossible to endure the constant collapse of the reality they knew.
“We need a way to record that they can never touch.”
Sara bit her lower lip.
“Lord, no! Brother, I have to meet that witch in the Black Sea. Lokia said witches might have a way to stop Ziphl’s rewriting of history…”
Lokia was one of the ten knights, the most skilled mage among them, even surpassing swordsmanship.
“Sara, that’s not possible.”
“Why not?”
“She’s a disaster. If you make contact carelessly, who knows what will happen.”
“Brother…”
Sara took a deep breath before continuing.
“If this keeps up, Runkandel will be destroyed. You know the history of Runkandel itself is starting to be rewritten, not just the fairies.”
“Awakening Helluram could destroy the world, not just Runkandel.”
“A world without Runkandel means nothing to me.”
“Sara!”
“Everyone’s putting all their hopes on you, brother. We want to do something too. It’s better than just helplessly being trampled. I’d even sell my soul to a demon if it meant fighting back.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that, Sara. And tell Lokia not to say a word about Helluram.”
Sara didn’t reply, so Temar gently embraced her.
“I know it’s hard. But I do have a plan. Soon, Solderet and I will meet with other gods.”
“The gods agreed to help?”
“Not sure. But Solderet said they seemed willing to cooperate.”
Sara reluctantly nodded.
Despite her immense power as one of the ten knights, it was hard for her to accept that there was nothing she could do.
“And one more thing—don’t disobey my orders and try to contact Helluram. That’s an order from your Lord.”
“Understood.”
The siblings were lying to each other.
Solderet had already failed to persuade the gods, and Sara had no intention of obeying Temar’s orders. She no longer trusted the majority of gods who had already submitted to Ziphl.
After Sara left, Temar sighed deeply.
“I have a feeling she’s going to cause trouble. I should ask Diana to keep a close eye on her.”
In truth, Temar and Leet—
Had already prepared for the worst.
They had seen Solderet trying to send messages to the ‘Thousand-Year Contractor’ on several occasions.
Leet had even helped him during the process.
Of course, that didn’t mean they had given up fighting Ziphl.
They only had a grim premonition that this terrible, long war might continue even after their era ended.
So preparations were needed—for the next generation, and the one after that, and the one after that.
Because they had no certainty of victory in their own time.
“But Sara’s right in some ways, Leet.”
“Yes, Lord.”
“Contacting Helluram directly is dangerous, but if it’s his lover, that’s a different story. Find out the whereabouts of Orgal, the Beast King.”
Wheeeeeee…
The record device powered down.
Jin sat silently, lost in thought.
“You’ve seen everything. How do you feel?”
Leet asked.
“…It’s shocking. I never imagined Ziphl’s rewriting of history was this extensive.”
Decades.
No, tens of thousands of years of fairy history could be manipulated at will.
She was certain even the gods couldn’t do that.
“That must be why the records say the gods surrendered to Ziphl.”
For the first time, doubt crept in—was it even possible to defeat Ziphl?
But Jin quickly shook off those thoughts.
“If those bastards were still as powerful as they were a thousand years ago, Runcandel wouldn’t even exist in the first place. They must have paid an enormous price to have crushed Runcandel back then.”
Though the exact nature of that price wasn’t revealed in this record, it was the most informative account Jin had found among all of Solderet’s writings so far.
Above all, he could feel Ziphl’s transcendent power more keenly than ever.
“To face Ziphl, my master is the key.”
Just as his thoughts naturally drifted to that conclusion—
“Jin Kyung, it’s already been two days outside,” Luet spoke up.
“Two days?” Jin flinched and met Luet’s gaze.
If two days had passed, it was possible that one of his enemies had already raided the small beastmen’s caves.
—I promised Neru of the Myoin tribe that I’d return as soon as possible. No one else should get hurt.
[Judging by your expression, it seems something urgent is happening outside.]
“There are people I promised to save. Because I came here, some beastmen are now in mortal danger.”
[Then you should leave immediately.]
Luet’s firm reply tightened Jin’s chest.
“If I leave this place, will you be alone again? Will I forget all memories of you…?”
Luet nodded silently.
[You’ll only remember what you saw through the recording device. About me. But Jin Kyung, I’m essentially a forgotten soul, already dead in a way. Saving living people outside is far more meaningful than soothing my loneliness.]
“…I will come back. I promise.”
There were too many beastmen who could die without knowing anything if he hesitated out of pity.
Luet gave a faint smile.
Recalling Temar, who once said the same words to Jin.