Chapter 226: Trial Of Lord [11]

Elias tried to recall his childhood, his family, or even the place where he had grown up, but his mind remained empty. It was almost as though nothing had existed before the first time he had awakened in the cottage.

The silence stretched longer than he intended. Elias searched his mind for a face, a home, a voice that might belong to someone from his past, but there was nothing he could grasp. The harder he tried, the more general the idea of a life before the cottage seemed, as though he were searching through a room that had been emptied long ago.

Monica tilted her head at his silence.

"Have you forgotten, or do you simply not want to tell me?"

"I..." Elias paused before shaking his head. "I do not know."

She studied him for a moment but eventually let the matter drop.

Elias looked away, pretending to be interested in the work waiting for him. He did not want Monica to see how deeply the question had unsettled him. Losing people was painful, but there was something equally frightening about not knowing whether there had ever been anyone to lose in the first place.

Stella, however, asked him similar questions on another occasion.

"What about your past? What did you want to do with your future? Is there somewhere you wish to go once all this is over?"

Elias stared at her, unable to provide a satisfying answer.

He knew the village, the neighboring settlement where Monica performed her magic shows, and the city beyond the mountains. Those were the only places he could recall with any certainty.

Beyond them, there was nothing.

He couldn’t remember any dreams he had held before arriving in the village, nor could he name a destination he had always wanted to visit. Even when he tried to imagine a future beyond the Rotted, his thoughts came up empty.

For a brief moment, he wondered whether he had ever possessed a future of his own. Everything he could remember now revolved around the cottage, the village, the women he loved, and the creature that kept taking them away. His life had become a circle drawn around the same few places and the same approaching tragedy.

Perhaps there had been a time when he wanted something simple for himself, something unrelated to saving anyone. Perhaps he had once dreamed of traveling, learning a craft, or seeing a distant city for no reason other than curiosity.

He could not even remember enough to miss it.

Eventually, Elias stopped dwelling on the matter and returned to training.

There were still walls to build, villagers to prepare, and a horror to face. Whatever lay beyond his memories could wait until he had survived the coming disaster.

And so he continued spending his days with the women he loved, experiencing both the joy of their presence and the sorrow of knowing that, to Stella and Monica, he was still a stranger.

They laughed with him, worked beside him, and gradually grew more comfortable around him. Their smiles made the days easier to bear, and sometimes Elias almost forgot that the time they shared might end in blood and darkness. Yet whenever he caught himself enjoying a peaceful moment too freely, the memory of previous deaths returned to remind him how little any of it was guaranteed to last.

The affection he felt for Stella and Monica remained something he carried alone, hidden behind reactions he had rehearsed through countless repetitions of the same days. He wanted to tell them that they mattered to him, that their lives were precious, and that he had already watched them die more times than he could bear to count.

But those words would mean little to people who had never shared his memories. He could not ask them to carry feelings born from experiences they had never lived.

Fortunately, he still had Natasha.

Whenever the weight of his unspoken feelings became too much, Elias returned to her embrace and allowed himself to rest. She might not understand everything he was going through, but she never made him feel as though he had to face it alone.

Sometimes, he closed his eyes while holding her and focused on the little things he had once taken for granted: the warmth of her hand, the way she leaned against him when tired, and the gentle sound of her voice calling his name. Having watched her die so many times, he understood how precious these ordinary moments were.

He knew he could lose her again, but he no longer wanted to spend every peaceful moment dreading the end. The possibility of losing someone did not make the happiness they shared any less real.

He would cherish what he had while keeping his feelings for Stella and Monica to himself. They had no memories of their previous attempts together, and he could not expect them to understand an attachment built on experiences they had never lived. He could only hope they would have the chance to create memories of their own.

For now, he would continue training and preparing the village. When the Rotted arrived, he would fight again.

---

On the day the Rotted was expected to arrive, the village seemed eerily quiet.

The villagers had spent days training under Elias and Stella, but they knew their weapons could barely inconvenience the creature. Their task was to remain hidden and avoid drawing its attention. The village’s fate rested on the four people gathered near its entrance.

Elias stood beside Stella, Monica, and Natasha, his hand resting on Lastbane’s hilt. He had learned from countless failures, yet the familiar tremors beneath his feet still brought back memories of everything he had lost.

As the ground shook more violently, Natasha turned to leave. Elias reached for her hand, drawing her back toward him.

He studied her familiar face before gently pressing his forehead against hers.

"Do not worry. I will not let it destroy our world," he mumbled.

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeply, wanting to carry the warmth of this moment with him into the battle.

When they parted, Natasha smiled.

"I know you will not."

Her quiet confidence stirred something in him. She had no idea how many times he had failed or how desperately he wanted this attempt to be different, yet she trusted him without hesitation.

Elias brushed her cheek with his thumb before reluctantly letting her go. Whatever happened next, he would do everything in his power to honor that trust.

When he turned toward Stella and Monica, he found both women staring at him.

Stella hesitated for a moment before letting out a frustrated breath.

"Fuck it."

Before Elias could ask what she meant, she caught his face between her hands and kissed him.

He froze in surprise.

Across countless attempts, he had trained with Stella, earned her trust, and grown deeply attached to her. He had watched her suffer and die, carrying those memories into every new beginning. Yet she remembered none of it.

To Stella, he was simply a man she had met in this life, someone she had grown comfortable with and, apparently, come to like.

That made her choice all the more meaningful. She was kissing him not because of anything he remembered, but because of what she felt now.

When she pulled away, her cheeks were flushed, and she looked almost as startled as he was. Still, she made no attempt to dismiss what she had done.

Elias wanted to ask what had prompted her to act, but he held back. He didn’t want to turn a moment she had chosen freely into something she felt obliged to explain.

Monica stared at them with wide eyes, while Natasha watched with a gentle smile. She had noticed the growing affection between Elias and the other two women and seemed glad that they had finally found the courage to express it.

Stella had barely stepped back when Monica marched toward Elias.

The mage summoned a small earthen platform beneath her feet, raising herself until she could reach his face. After glancing nervously at Stella, she leaned forward and gave Elias a quick peck on the lips.

"I-I am not doing it like them," she muttered, her cheeks bright red.

Elias smiled at her flustered expression.

"Then let me do it properly."

Before Monica could protest, he gently drew her into his arms and kissed her. She stiffened at first, but soon relaxed and returned his affection, resting her hands against him.

For a brief moment, the trembling ground faded from Elias’s awareness.

These kisses could not undo his failures or guarantee that the people he loved would survive. Still, as he held Monica and met Stella’s gaze, he allowed himself to enjoy the moment without thinking about how it might end.

Natasha trusted him. Stella had acted on her feelings, and Monica had overcome her embarrassment to do the same.

For once, he didn’t need to wonder whether they cared about him. At least in this moment, he could feel it.

Then the tremors grew stronger.

In the distance, a mass of black tar dragged itself toward the village. Countless eyes and gaping maws covered its grotesque body, while enormous tentacles writhed across the ground, crushing everything in their path.

The moment of warmth passed, replaced by the grim reality of the battle ahead.

Stella drew her sword and stepped forward, her expression hardening as she faced the approaching horror.

"Get ready!" she shouted.