Chapter 56
The Arrow That Left the Bow (15)
When Anton heard the news, he collapsed to the ground.
Unlike me, standing there frozen and expressionless, Anton hit the floor with his fists and sobbed as if it were his own fault.
Watching him, I felt like he was showing the feelings I couldn’t express myself, so I just stayed there quietly.
Listening to Anton cry, I realized I couldn’t keep my promise to just watch from a step back.
Not for Remi, who had given me his trust in such a short time.
For Anton, crying for the little child who passed away; for Clara, whom I had saved myself; for the kind turtle beastman Gilliard; the rabbit warrior Onak; and even Echo, who always greeted me with a bright smile.
‘I didn’t plan for this.’
I had already come too far to turn back.
Anton and I buried Remi in a sunny spot.
It was the forest where Anton and I had first met.
A quiet, lonely place, so now Remi wouldn’t hear any more bad words.
Kneeling before the small mound, Anton whispered softly.
“Goodbye, Remi.”
Even saying “goodbye” felt too ordinary, and that made it sadder.
With tired eyes, Anton forced a small smile and looked at me.
“Hae, if you want, you can say something too.”
I stepped forward.
Honestly, I wanted to say I’d erase all humans in this dimension.
But even in death, making him hear that felt too cruel. So I just gently patted the small mound, as if smoothing his hair.
Not as soft as his hair, but I hoped soft grass would grow here.
Swallowing my words, Anton slowly stood, put his hands together, and bowed his head.
“Mother of Light, Oerisa, please take this small soul into your embrace. Death is not the end but a new beginning, and darkness cannot hide the light. This body returns to the earth, but the soul will find eternal peace in your embrace. Let it rest in Oerisa’s light.”
His hoarse voice sounded like words from a memorial mass.
After finishing, Anton faintly smiled.
“I wanted to do this for him. I couldn’t give him a proper funeral at the temple.”
“You normally do funerals at the temple?” I asked.
“Yes, but Remi couldn’t receive the sacred blessing… the priests avoided him.”
That sacred energy…
The priest’s attitude made sense now—like they didn’t want to waste their time.
It was past, but still, it left a heavy feeling in my chest.
Then I remembered something and asked Anton.
“Wait… why couldn’t Remi receive the sacred blessing?”
It seemed all species serving Oerisa were affected by sacred energy, so why only Remi?
Anton seemed troubled by it too and quietly answered.
“I don’t know. It’s been that way since he was very young. But does it matter? When Kong was born, we were planning to take Remi to Kona…”
He turned his head to the other side, as if holding back tears.
I decided to give Anton some space and stepped back a few paces.
Leaning against a large tree, I quietly stared at Remi’s grave.
If sacred energy had worked, would Remi still be alive?
Even imagining it was pointless, but I kept thinking “what if.”
Maybe it was because this was the first death of someone I had actually spoken to.
Then, I suddenly tilted my head.
‘Wait a minute.’
Something was on the tip of my memory.
Sacred energy.
I felt like I had forgotten something important about it…
I sifted through my thoughts.
Retracing my steps, I remembered the scenario participant message Anyunseo had sent to Hanromi.
[■ Babel System > Scenario Participant Shared Message]
Hanromi, the攻略 group is stuck because they can’t find a way into the sanctuary. There’s a huge sacred energy wall around Provel, completely blocking access. The group plans to move to the nearby village, Raycam. Please join from Raycam instead of Provel. -Ι Anyunseo (Dimension-Earth Ι Region-Korea)]
“Ah-!”
I suddenly shouted and jumped up.
“Wh-what happened?”
Anton, startled, looked around fearfully.
Ironically, I only realized an important clue after the mixed-blood Remi had passed away.
The meaning of the “Everlasting Sprout.”
The sacred energy wall around Provel.
So only a mixed-blood, unaffected by sacred energy, could pass through and enter Provel.
“Wait, what?”
Anton frowned, clearly confused.
I calmly explained again.
“Long ago, humans and beastmen had a peace treaty. Agemor got angry and spread the fog, destroying the object that sealed the treaty, which caused all this conflict.”
“…I see.”
“To restore the object, it has to go to Provel and receive the blessing of the gods again. Only mixed-bloods unaffected by sacred energy can enter Provel.”
“Okay…”
Anton, who had been sad just moments ago, blinked at the sudden information overload.
He finally spoke after a long pause.
“So… if Remi had been alive, he could have solved all of this?”
“Exactly. Being unaffected by sacred energy actually meant a lot.”
“Ah…”
Anton sighed quietly.
We both felt the same thing: Remi, who had suffered so much in a world full of cruelty, was actually someone who could have united everyone.
It was unbelievable that one child could have ended all this fighting.
Anton murmured sadly.
“If only he knew, he would have been happy to hear that he had a place where he belonged.”
“Exactly.”
Remi, ignored everywhere and never finding a place, would have loved that.
If asked for help, he might have bragged, touching not just his head but his ears too.
I murmured, feeling low.
“But now there’s no one left to ask… except maybe the child in Clara’s womb.”
But we didn’t have time to wait for the child to be born and grow up.
I took a deep breath and gathered my thoughts.
I had almost forgotten, but we didn’t have time to mourn properly.
Agemor’s invasion was still spreading through this floor, and if we failed to clear the 51st-floor scenario, our dimension would face a total destruction ending.
We needed a Plan B.
Babel must have prepared a way to clear the scenario even without a mixed-blood.
Even if it was extremely difficult, there was no other option.
Then Anton spoke, looking puzzled.
“There is a way.”
“Uh?”
I was startled.
His face looked so innocent I couldn’t help but ask.
“Where?”
“In Kona. That’s why we were going to take Remi there. I heard one mixed-blood child is living happily in Kona.”
“Kona?!”
“Yes, didn’t you know?”
I recognized the name.
I asked slowly, stammering.
“W-w-who is it?”
Anton touched his chin, looking troubled.
A clue to the mixed-blood child in his memory.
Knowing the name could solve half of our problem—saving both species, this dimension, and eventually our dimension.
But the name Anton finally said was completely unexpected.
“Echo… I think.”
I opened my eyes wide in shock.
“Echo?!”
That small, cute cat-beastman, adorable Echo?!
I was too surprised to react at first.
Anton nodded and continued.
“Yes, Clara said she’s very lively. The beastman village seems fair, no discrimination. He thought it would be a good place for Kong and Remi too.”
He had no idea I had saved Echo and promised to be her lifelong friend.
I quietly watched Anton’s face, filled with a clear sense of nostalgia.
At least now, our destination was certain.
“I have to go meet Echo.”
“Wait, Hae!”
Anton grabbed my arm, trembling slightly.
“Are you planning to take that child to Provel?”
“Yes.”
“You can’t make a child do something so dangerous. She doesn’t understand anything…”
“Anton.”
I cut him off gently.
I understood his concern. He loved and protected the beastmen in a world that encouraged hatred.
He probably saw Echo as an ordinary child, not as the key to the scenario.
But reality wasn’t easy.
“Remi died because humans and beastmen were being forced to hate each other.”
Anton couldn’t argue and fell silent.
“If this continues, Echo, Clara and Anton’s child, and all future mixed-blood children might face the same fate.”
“…”
“I don’t know Echo as well as you knew Remi, but… if it were her, she would definitely take this task. Echo would too.”
Yes, Echo would.
A pure child, afraid of humans but not understanding why humans and beastmen must fight.
If she could stop the fighting, she would do anything, clenching her little fists.
I ignored Anton, bowed my head silently, and took out the Nokgacheon from my inventory.
Anton flinched at the weapon appearing in midair and stepped back.
“What is that?”
“This is my way.”
I climbed onto the Nokgacheon without waiting for his reaction.
“I’m leaving now. See you soon, Anton.”
“…Okay. Be careful, Hae.”
I gave a light farewell and looked down at the small mound.
The rough wooden plank we had placed read:
[Remi, resting here]
This wasn’t the end.
I whispered quietly.
“Goodbye, Remi. We’ll meet again.”
Next time, I’ll play with you longer.
I put my foot on the pedal and left without looking back.
It was time to return to Kona.
Riding Nokgacheon at full speed, I swallowed my guilt.
Guilt for not protecting Remi, and guilt for leaving the burden to Echo.
‘Sorry, Echo.’
But this was the only thing she could do.
In this continent full of hatred and collapse, only one could sprout new life.
The everlasting sprout—only Echo.
