Chapter – 04
“Don’t be afraid. It’s all right, I’m here. I’m your sister—if anyone tries to hurt you, I won’t stand by and let them.”
Even in the midst of this, Calliona tried to reassure Liriope.
Though she herself was trembling inside with unease.
Seeing her sister’s effort, Liriope fought to swallow down the rising panic clawing at her throat and forced herself to steady her breathing.
Gradually, her mind cleared enough for her to think rationally about what was happening.
‘You—who are you? Why are you talking inside my head?’
[That doesn’t matter right now. I’ve gone so far as to turn back time for you, so unless you want to die pointlessly today, you’d better get a grip.]
The scolding tone was irritating, but that was a trivial issue compared to the content itself.
Liriope instinctively held her breath.
What did it just say?
Turned back time?
‘Then… this isn’t a dream or the afterlife?’
[Correct. This is reality.]
A shiver—half dread, half awe—raced down her spine.
Reality.
Her sister was alive.
No tragedy had begun yet.
This moment was real.
Even the Archmage of the Southern Tower, hailed as the greatest sorcerer of the age, had declared time reversal impossible.
It made no sense.
And yet, to her own surprise, Liriope accepted those words immediately.
Perhaps because everything here felt too vivid, too tangible.
Or maybe because she desperately wanted to believe it.
Whatever the reason, she knew instinctively that the voice in her head spoke the truth.
[Contractor, you must already feel it—but the Holy Feast is inevitable. Don’t do anything foolish. Stay still and behave.]
But her briefly lifted heart froze solid again, as if doused in cold water.
‘No way. You mean I have to become a mage of Vellegot again?’
If she really had returned to the past, how could this be happening?
Was she truly expected to crawl back into that hell?
With growing agitation, she pressed the voice.
‘You said you turned back time. Then why today of all days? You could’ve sent me back before I entered the Northern Tower. Why this moment?’
[That wasn’t my decision. It’s tied to the wish that awakened me.]
The voice in her mind spoke coldly, clearly annoyed by her accusation.
[Didn’t you wish to return to a time when you and your sister could truly smile together?
That was likely today—the last time such a thing was possible.]
A storm raged in Liriope’s chest.
The scene flashed before her eyes—
Waking after fainting in a rain-soaked forest, only to find herself back here.
Her sister’s bright face, laughing innocently as they shared warm bread in a cozy room.
The time just before the Holy Feast—before entering the Northern Tower—
That was the last moment the sisters had truly been happy.
Even afterward, before Calliona grew distant and cold, she would sometimes smile, trying to reassure her.
And when she did, Liriope could forget her troubles for a brief moment and smile back.
But had Calliona never truly been all right, even then?
Had she been forcing herself to be strong—just like now?
“Go on inside. Thankfully, you’re not late. Move to the center of the hall and stand with the other children. Once the Holy Feast is complete, you will be reborn as true members of Vellegot.”
The female mage who had escorted them pushed gently at their backs toward a small door.
Liriope instinctively tried to stir her mana—but nothing happened.
She was once again in the powerless body of a child, before her mana core had ever formed.
Even if she could have used magic, what good would it have done?
She had lived her past life branded as a crippled mage anyway.
‘So I really can’t change what’s about to happen? I have to go through the Feast again and become a mage of Vellegot?’
A faint sense of futility welled up inside her—then quickly vanished.
No, this wasn’t the time for despair.
If she was given this chance, wasn’t that a miracle in itself?
She knew the future now.
Maybe, just maybe, she could change her sister Calliona’s fate.
For that alone, she would gladly give up her soul.
[What…? “Demon”? Are you calling me that, you insolent child…?]
‘Fine. If I can’t escape this, I’ll accept it. I don’t care who you are or what you want. Even if you demand my life—or my soul—I’ll give it. And if that’s not enough, I’ll pay the price again in the next life.’
Clunk. Thud!
As if some unseen fate were shoving her forward, the heavy door shut solidly behind her.
‘As long as I can save Calliona, nothing else matters.’
The hall inside was filled with children who had arrived earlier.
By coincidence, the red-haired boy who had picked a fight with them in the dining hall was standing near the door.
He immediately noticed the sisters.
“What took you so long?”
He sneered in that same grating tone as before.
“If the ceremony gets delayed because of you, you’ll be responsible! I didn’t even eat that much earlier, saving room for the Feast—but I’ve already digested it waiting for you two.”
“Yeah! You owe our boss for that!”
“You’d better give him your share of the meat later!”
His small lackeys folded their arms, trying to look intimidating, but they were anything but.
Still, their leader seemed pleased by their show of loyalty.
“Hey, kid.”
Just then, one of the mages supervising the group approached the red-haired boy and patted his shoulder approvingly.
“I’m betting on you this term. Show some grit and survive, and we’ll meet again in my division.”
With a cryptic smile, the mage walked away.
“What was that supposed to mean?”
The boy rubbed the shoulder where the mage had touched him, his face clouded with unease.
For the first time, a flicker of fear broke through his smug expression.
“Attention, everyone! The Holy Feast will now begin!”
The middle-aged mage, who had been checking something on the ceiling, called for silence.
“Today, you will be reborn as proud members of Vellegot.
Unfortunately, not all of you are worthy—but this, too, is a necessary sacrifice for the glory and prosperity of the great Northern Tower.
So, show your resolve. I hope as many of you as possible survive.”
“What… does that mean?”
Before the children could even voice their confusion, the magic circle drawn across the ceiling began to glow.
Vwoooom!
A wave of ominous black mana filled the room in an instant.
It moved like a living thing—greedy, ravenous—devouring every defenseless child in its reach.
A single wet splat echoed, followed by a flash of red staining the floor.
The spot where one child had been standing only seconds ago was now nothing but a bloody smear.
That child had been unlucky—unfit to become a mage of the Northern Tower.
Yet in another sense, he was fortunate: he died before realizing what was happening.
“Ah—ahhh! He’s—he’s dead! Hrk—!”
Screams split the air as another child coughed blood.
And thus began the merciless process of selection.
