Chapter 225: Trial Of Lord [10]

Elias returned to the cottage and stared at the ceiling for a while before finally rising from the bed and turning toward the door.

Natasha entered the cottage and noticed that he was awake.

"You are awake," she said.

"I am," Elias replied with a nod before moving closer to her and wrapping his arms around her from behind. He rested his face against her neck, breathing in her familiar scent as he held her close. For a moment, he simply stood there, unwilling to let go.

Natasha gently rubbed his arms and mumbled, "Is something wrong?"

Elias chuckled and asked, "Do I need a reason to hug my wife?"

She shook her head and smiled faintly before telling him to prepare the fire while she cut the meat and vegetables.

However, instead of letting her go, Elias hugged her a little tighter and mumbled, "Let me cook today."

Natasha blinked a few times before turning her head to look at him.

"You can cook?" she asked in surprise.

Elias nodded confidently. "I can."

A surprised expression appeared on her face, but it soon turned into excitement as she agreed.

"Let me see how good you are," she said.

Elias chuckled and kissed her cheek before releasing her and getting to work.

He quickly lit the fire and prepared the ingredients, then began cooking with practiced movements. Before Natasha’s stupefied gaze, he masterfully prepared dinner as though he had done it countless times before, which was indeed the case. Stella had never been much of a cook, so Elias had often taken responsibility for preparing their meals during the months they had spent together.

The familiarity of the motions brought back memories he had no intention of sharing. He remembered Stella complaining about his cooking, pretending that his portions were too small before asking for seconds, and occasionally hovering beside him under the pretense of helping. Those moments belonged to another attempt, another stretch of time that had ended in death. To Natasha, however, he was simply a husband who had unexpectedly learned to cook well.

When she praised the meal, Elias smiled and accepted her compliments, carefully keeping the memories to himself.

After dinner, he spent a passionate night with Natasha, holding her close and allowing himself to enjoy their time together. He knew that another attempt awaited him, but he did not want to spend every moment anticipating the end. If he had learned anything from the countless deaths he had endured, it was that even the smallest moments of happiness deserved to be cherished while they lasted.

The following morning, he entered the village smithy and set about forging Lastbane.

The sword gradually took shape beneath his hammer, and by the time he finished, its blade bore a faint, scale-like pattern, while its handle was made of pale bone and ended in an ordinary round pommel.

Forging the weapon took him an entire day, but Elias was satisfied with the result. He ran his fingers along the hilt, feeling the solid weight of the sword in his hand. It was not the finest weapon in the world, nor was it capable of guaranteeing victory, but it represented something he had struggled to find through his failures: a way forward.

The next morning, he left the village to search for Stella. After following the familiar route, he eventually found her. He treated her injuries in the same old cottage as before and listened as she recounted what had happened to her unit, although her words barely registered as he simply stared at the crimson-haired woman’s face.

He already knew most of her story. He knew when her voice would falter, which parts she would struggle to recount, and when her expression would harden as she remembered her fallen comrades. He had heard her tell it before, yet knowing what came next did not make her pain any less real.

"Has anyone told you that you look cute?" Elias asked.

Stella stopped talking and stared at him with a deadpan expression.

"Is that what you have to say after everything that has happened to me?" she asked.

"It just feels pointless," Elias replied.

Stella frowned, and her voice grew dark as she questioned him.

"You think me wanting revenge for my comrades is pointless?"

"No," Elias said, shaking his head. "What I meant is that it does not matter what you went through. You do not have to tell me things you do not want to just to get my help. If you had looked into my eyes, you would have understood that I was already ready to help you."

Stella fell silent, seemingly unsure how to respond, while Elias leaned closer.

"Look into my eyes and tell me what you see," he asked gently.

She met his gaze, and her expression gradually shifted to confusion.

"I see pain. Fear. And beneath everything..." She paused, studying his eyes more closely. "Love."

For an instant, Elias wondered whether she could see even a fraction of what he had carried through the loops. The deaths, the desperate plans, the moments of hope that had ended in the same terrible darkness. But whatever she saw in his eyes, she could not know where it had come from.

Elias gently touched her face and rubbed her cheek before smiling.

"Do you want a piggyback ride, or can you walk on your own?" he asked.

Stella stared at him for a moment before asking, "Who are you?"

Elias let out a sigh and answered, "I am someone who wishes for you to live a long, happy life full of love, and I intend to make that happen."

She blinked a few times before mumbling, "Are you planning to marry me?"

"Heh." Elias smirked and considered the question for a moment. "I do not know. I would have to ask my wife."

"Huh?" Stella’s expression grew even more confused. "You are already married?"

"I am. Why?"

Her lips opened and closed as she struggled to respond, but she eventually looked away and mumbled, "Piggyback."

"Good," Elias said with a smile before lifting her onto his back.

As he carried her, Stella’s arms rested around his shoulders, and her crimson hair brushed against his cheek. The simple warmth of another person leaning on him brought an ache he could not quite explain. He had carried her before, spoken to her before, and watched her grow comfortable around him before. Yet every time a new attempt began, he had to earn that trust all over again.

For Stella, this was the beginning of their acquaintance.

For Elias, it was another reunion with someone he had never truly been able to keep.

He carried her back to the village, where he told Natasha about the approaching Rotted and introduced her to the injured knight. Natasha immediately understood the urgency of the situation and began helping organize the villagers for their defense.

It took her two days to gather a sizable group willing to participate in the training. Once enough villagers had agreed to join, Stella and Elias began training them.

However, as she watched him demonstrate techniques and correct the villagers’ movements, she was surprised by how skilled he was. His swordsmanship was far beyond what she had expected from someone living in such a backwater village, and his competence naturally brought them closer.

Elias found himself enjoying those moments more than he wanted to admit. Teaching the villagers gave him a purpose beyond waiting for the Rotted, and Stella’s occasional praise made the long days feel a little less heavy. Still, he knew how fragile their progress was. Every improvement they made belonged to a future that might end before they could truly enjoy it.

Natasha also had the same conversation with Elias as before, admitting that she sensed he was carrying a burden he could not share with her. Although she remained uncertain about what troubled him, she had no objection to someone helping him carry it.

Elias listened quietly, feeling a familiar mixture of gratitude and guilt. Natasha trusted him enough to recognize his pain, yet he still could not tell her why it was there. He wanted to explain everything, to tell her about the lives he had watched disappear and the countless mornings he had awakened beside her after believing he would never see her again.

But how could he explain a nightmare that sounded impossible even to him? And what would happen if she looked at him differently after learning how many times he had failed to protect her?

In the end, he only embraced her and thanked her for being by his side.

Elias tried his best not to fall deeper into the rabbit hole, but watching Stella smile, work hard, and train the villagers made it increasingly difficult to stop thinking about the woman he had come to love. Nevertheless, he tried to keep his feelings in check, and eventually, the day to recruit Monica arrived.

Elias traveled to the neighboring village and found Monica after her magic performance. He offered her the gold necklace in exchange for helping guard the village for a month.

Monica glanced at the necklace before looking at him suspiciously.

"Are you not a mage? Why do you need me?" she asked.

Elias leaned forward, gently grabbing her shoulders as he met her gaze.

"It is because I know that you are better at magic than me, and I know that we need you. I need you, so please accept my request," he said earnestly.

Monica stared at him, her eyes filled with thoughts as she considered his words.

"And you just seemed like a beautiful person to be with," Elias added.

"O-Okay," Monica mumbled, the edges of her ears turning red. "I will accept it."

"Thank you," Elias said with a smile.

For a moment, he felt an odd pang of relief. Monica was here again. Her familiar expressions, her sharp questions, and even the way she tried to hide her embarrassment all reminded him of the time they had spent together in previous attempts. He was glad to see her alive and standing before him, yet the familiarity was accompanied by a quiet sadness.

She did not remember any of it.

To her, his words were the beginning of something new. To him, they were another variation of a conversation he had already lived through.

With the agreement settled, the two left and headed toward their village.

When they reached the village, Elias introduced Monica to Natasha and Stella before explaining the threat posed by the Rotted.

At first, Monica wanted to leave immediately. She had no reason to risk her life defending an unfamiliar village against a monster she knew nothing about. However, Elias managed to convince her to stay, and she eventually agreed to help them prepare.

They began constructing a wall around the village, hoping to slow the Rotted’s advance and buy themselves more time when it arrived.

Elias stood before a patch of bare ground and extended his empty palm toward it. He guided mana into his Mind’s Eye, pictured a wall of solid earth rising from the ground, and then channeled his mana into his Earth Elemental Chakra.

The ground trembled slightly as a short earthen wall rose before him.

Elias patted its surface with a satisfied smile before moving on to continue his work.

Although the wall was small, he felt a quiet sense of accomplishment. It was something he could do now that he could not do before, a small improvement carried forward from a previous failure.

As the days passed, he found himself working alongside the women he loved, yet every conversation brought a strange pang of sorrow.

Unlike Natasha, who shared a life and countless memories with him, Stella and Monica knew nothing about the person he had become across his many attempts. To them, he was merely a villager who had either asked for or offered them help.

Whenever they spoke, Elias forced himself to react naturally, pretending to hear their stories and opinions for the first time. He had already heard the same words countless times, and he knew their habits, their preferences, and even details they had never told him in this attempt.

He could practically tell what they were wearing underneath their clothes without needing to see them.

Yet he feared that acting too familiar would make them suspicious, so he carefully concealed how much he knew and continued treating them like people he had only recently met.

Sometimes, the effort left him strangely tired. He had to pretend to discover things he already knew, laugh at stories he remembered, and ask questions whose answers he could have recited himself. He could not blame them for forgetting what they had never experienced in this attempt, but that did not make the distance between them any easier to bear.

One afternoon, while they were taking a break from their work, Monica turned toward him with a curious expression.

"Elias, what were you doing before you came to this village?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but no words came.

For some reason, he couldn’t remember.