<Chapter 1>
Killian Hounbert.
He was the First Sword of the Holy Empire of Aeterna and the Guardian of the Continent—who had saved the world from the Demon King eight years ago.
To seat such a sacred being at an old, shabby wooden table would be nothing short of blasphemy.
And that very blasphemy was currently happening in real-time.
“Is that… really true?”
Killian asked, resting his chin on the filthy table.
“Y-Yeah. It’s true.”
The very person guilty of this blasphemy—who had made him sit there—nodded clumsily.
Killian raised an eyebrow and asked again.
“Elshunin. You really don’t remember me?”
“Y-Yes… I really don’t.”
The woman, called Elshunin, looked like she was about to cry.
Perhaps frightened by the holy man before her, her eyes darted around anxiously as cold sweat dripped from her forehead.
“Hah.”
With a quiet sigh and a twisted smirk, Killian curled one corner of his mouth upward. Elshunin flinched with a gasp.
“So. You really don’t remember me, huh?”
He spoke as if chewing the words.
Elshunin seemed to shrink in on herself.
“Y-Yeah…”
“Not even when you kidnapped Arwen eight years ago?”
“W-What?! I did something that awful?”
“No, you did worse. For example, cruelly abandoning someone.”
Elshunin blinked her eyes innocently, wearing a completely clueless expression. It was clear she remembered nothing.
And yet, tears welled up in her wide, round eyes—as though she were deeply shocked by the terrible deeds she was being accused of.
“I-I don’t know who that someone is, but… if it’s true, tell them I’m sorry. Sniffle.”
“Oh, you don’t know who that someone is?”
Killian’s chilling red eyes locked onto her. Elshunin gasped and sucked in her breath.
She trembled all over, shriveling up. Her pale face looked like she might faint any second.
She sniffled again and thought to herself:
‘What the hell! Sure, I kidnapped the heroine, but I never abandoned anyone!’
Sniffle.
She also thought:
‘Killian, you bastard! Even if the heroine’s dead and you’ve gone mad, this is fraud!’
A single tear rolled from her round eyes—probably from how long she’d been forcing them open.
She slowly wiped it away with a trembling hand so that Killian could see it clearly.
And finally, she thought:
‘Ah… life.’
That was when it really began to feel unfair.
Contrary to what she’d told Killian, Elshunin did remember him.
Not just his past—but also his present and future.
Because twenty years ago, she had possessed a character inside a novel called “When She Died, He Went Mad.”
And the reason she lied about not remembering Killian… was a tearful tale in itself.
* * *
To understand that story, we must go back eight years.
At that time, the continent was in chaos due to the Demon King’s invasion.
Through a rift in space, torn open by the Demon King’s vicious claws, monstrous beasts poured in by the thousands.
“Retreat! Retreat!”
“Please! I don’t want to die here! Save me!”
Thanks to a prophecy from the previous Saintess, the continent’s races had formed an alliance and built massive walls.
Elves, beastkin, dwarves, and humans.
The alliance held strong against the demonic horde—but when high-ranking demons appeared, the tide turned.
“Where’s the Holy Sword?! Haven’t we found it yet?!”
The humans, overwhelmed, began praying for divine salvation—and at last, that day came. They found the Holy Sword, forged by the gods.
It was said that with a single swing, it could slay all monsters; with two, behead the Demon King.
But no one could pull it out.
“The gods have abandoned us! We’re all going to die!”
“Damn it, shut up with that bad luck talk!”
The sword stood embedded in the center of a ruined castle hall, glowing with divine light. Mocking them.
People spat curses at the immovable sword.
How could the gods betray them?
Among those in despair, only one person remained calm.
‘Spitting on the sword is a bit much, don’t you think?’
It was Elshunin, a 12-year veteran transmigrator in this novel’s world. She already knew who the sword’s rightful wielder was.
And what would happen next.
Right now, no one could pull it out—but soon, her friend Killian would awaken. He would be the one.
After his awakening, Killian would gain overwhelming power and defeat the monsters in a single sweep.
So she wasn’t afraid at all.
But her heart thumped for a different reason.
Because the moment she’d waited so long for… was finally here.
‘God, I’m nervous.’
She had practiced this moment endlessly—wrapping dolls in cloth to simulate the scene. Now that it was real, her palms were sweaty.
She gulped.
“The demon troops are breaching the gates!”
“What happened to the elves guarding the entrance?!”
“They… it seems they’ve sided with the demons.”
“What?!”
A voice full of disbelief came from Killian.
Still in his late teens, his voice was unsteady and easily betrayed his fear.
That’s when the Saintess stepped forward.
“I’ll hold them off. In the meantime, someone—get the sword…”
“What?! Arwen, are you insane?! That’s impossible!”
The female lead of the novel, the Saintess Arwen, was the one Killian loved.
Though they loved each other, the war’s danger meant they’d never even confessed—a tragic situation.
Ignoring the pleas of her allies, Arwen sacrificed herself to protect them all, casting a massive barrier around the ruined castle.
“No! Arwen—!”
“The Saintess… she’s…!”
Her blood splattered across the sword as she collapsed.
From her fallen body, the magical barrier expanded outward, and the castle shook with a deep hum.
Killian, as if possessed, walked toward the sword and laid his hand on its hilt.
Though it had been stuck like part of the stone itself, it slipped out effortlessly in his hand.
“He pulled it! Killian, the Guardian, has drawn the Holy Sword!”
“Praise the gods! They haven’t abandoned us!”
Elshunin clenched her fists with intense focus.
‘Now!’
It was time for her real role.
She transformed into a spirit and fluttered up into the air.
“Sorry, Killian.”
She bit her lip as she looked at Killian, eyes closed with the sword in hand.
Her job was to resurrect the heroine and guide her back to him.
But it was also… to take her away from him.
Sorry, Killian.
I’m going to hurt you. But I have no choice.
‘If I don’t… you’ll commit a sin beyond redemption.’
If Elshunin didn’t resurrect Arwen, Killian would turn against the very continent he saved in order to bring her back.
‘I have to follow the original story!’
While Killian was distracted by the ritual of becoming the sword’s master, Elshunin quickly summoned water.
Whoooosh!
A rush of water erupted unnaturally through the ruined castle.
“What’s with that water?! Everyone, get back!”
A massive stream of water sprang into the air, wrapping around Arwen’s body. Elshunin threw herself into it.
The water would carry her—and Arwen’s body—far, far away.
“…Elshunin?”
Just as she reached the top of the surge, Killian’s voice echoed weakly below.
“Elshunin!”
She tightened her lips and flew toward the remote cabin she’d prepared.
From this day forward, Killian would hate her.
He would believe she’d stolen Arwen from him.
And Elshunin… she already knew that.
She had made peace with it long ago.
This was the moment she’d spent twelve years preparing for.
On that day, Elshunin kidnapped Arwen.
To be precise—Arwen’s corpse.
* * *
“Today’s the day.”
Her voice trembled slightly.
“Finally. It’s today.”
Seven years had passed in the blink of an eye since she stole Arwen.
Elshunin had poured all her effort into resurrecting her.
First, she convinced Yggdrasil to breathe life into the body. Then, she found life elixir to reconstruct the tissues. She even borrowed a Red Dragon’s heart, crushed it, and fed it to Arwen.
Lastly, she transferred every drop of power from her spirit vessel to Arwen.
‘And today, with the full moon…!’
Arwen was supposed to awaken tonight.
In the forest cabin, Elshunin anxiously paced.
“Ugh… what if something goes wrong? No! Don’t jinx it!”
She shook her head vigorously and bit her lip.
“What was my first line again?”
The novel’s prologue began with Arwen waking up. And Elshunin, as an important supporting character, had one meaningful first line:
“Hello, Arwen.”
“Okay. Let’s go.”
She carefully lifted Arwen, who lay peacefully in bed, and carried her down to the misty cliffside.
“Heave-ho.”
Wiping sweat from her brow, she laid Arwen down in the perfect spot.
Now all that was left was to wait for the full moon.
Her heart pounded. She took deep breaths, hoping Arwen would open her eyes.
One hour passed. Then two…
At last, the full moon rose.
“….”
Nothing happened.
Two days. One week.
…A month.
“Huh…?”
Even after a year passed…
The heroine Arwen still hadn’t opened her eyes.
“…What?”
Cold sweat trickled down Elshunin’s neck.
She didn’t know why.
But…
Something had definitely gone wrong.
