#168. Twisted Fate (4)
Her mind was a tangle of thoughts, yet she vaguely began to understand the meaning. Sasha listened intently to Yggdrasil’s words.
“You have already paid a sufficient price. Do not let this opportunity pass; use it to end this arduous life that has been so long and wearisome.”
The World Tree clicked its tongue with a hint of pity as it continued.
“However, searching without understanding will be difficult. I shall give you a small measure of aid.”
Thump… thump!
Sasha, her hand pressed against the rough bark of Yggdrasil, felt a powerful pulse coursing through her palm. Her eyes widened.
The world before her spun violently.
Shaaah—!
A brilliant flash spread outward, engulfing her. Her vision went completely white.
She was drawn into the distant beyond.
Thump… thump!
…Sasha recalled fragments of memories she had long forgotten.
Beyond the veil of her memory palace lay her true first life—before twenty-six cycles of reincarnation.
The last life in which oblivion had been granted.
In that life, she was the hero Lyudmila.
Lyudmila, the adventurer who set out to defeat the evil dragon that threatened to destroy the world.
She had a beloved.
Someone as precious as her duty to save the world.
The man she loved so dearly…
‘What was his name?’
Amid the confusion, a scene unfolded before Sasha’s eyes.
His hair, though not stained with blood, shone with a golden brilliance like threads of spun gold. Slowly, his closed eyes opened, revealing bright azure irises.
Most strikingly, his facial features—handsome and refined—were identical to someone she knew in her current life.
‘The Crown Prince… Ruslan?’
It could not have been anyone else. The resemblance was undeniable.
At the same time, Sasha realized:
In her first life, the man Lyudmila had loved so deeply was indeed Ruslan.
‘Why? How?’
Sasha’s heart raced with shock.
It was astonishing enough to recall a past life she had long forgotten, and to remember that she had loved someone so deeply in that life.
But the fact that this person bore the exact face of the Crown Prince in her current life was shocking beyond belief.
No, the face alone—he must be a different person. The timing is different, and besides…
‘He’s dead.’
Sasha lowered her head, feeling the heavy weight in her arms.
The man in her embrace—Ruslan—was not breathing.
Trembling, she placed her hand on his chest. No heartbeat.
The blood oozing from the dagger wound in his chest had stopped, as if all the blood in his body had drained away…
Thud. Her heart plummeted.
He’s dead… No, take me with you. We had promised to be together. If he’s dead, then… perhaps I should be too…
A wave of despair enveloped her.
“—Sha.”
A voice, distant but clear, pulled Sasha out of her despair.
“Sasha!”
Who was calling her so desperately? Who could it be?
“Please… wake up! Sasha!”
Suddenly, she realized.
‘Pavel…’
The realization struck her like a shock of electricity, as though she were taking her first breath after a long time.
Sasha’s eyes flew open. The familiar ceiling of Velikorod Castle’s bedroom greeted her.
“Ah…”
Her throat hurt, coughing roughly, and she felt hands awkwardly pat her back, unsure what to do.
When she blinked, she saw the one holding her.
“…Pavel.”
Her voice, cracked and weak, barely made a sound. Yet he understood.
“Yes. It’s me, Pavel.”
She felt his trembling hands. Not just his hands—his arms, chest, and whole body shook as he held her.
“Sasha… Sasha…”
She could almost imagine blood tears streaming from his furrowed eyes, the anguish in his gaze so intense.
“…Pavel.”
Sasha reached out and caressed his face. It was damp. Moisture clung to her fingertips and trickled down his skin.
Her mind was still clouded, half-dreaming, as though somewhere else entirely.
The more disoriented she felt, the more she struggled to think clearly.
‘Remember. This is reality.’
She firmly reminded herself that the life in which she had been clutching him tightly was already over.
‘Now, I am Alexandra. The man I love is Pavel Volkov…’
Feeling Pavel’s desperate touch again and again, Sasha’s emotions from the distant past faded into a soft, distant memory.
On the morning of their departure to Kalita, Pavel stopped Sasha as she boarded the carriage.
“Are you really sure you’re okay?”
“Yes. I wasn’t really hurt in the first place.”
“Still… you collapsed back then.”
“That was just dizziness. The doctor said it was nothing serious, didn’t he?”
Pavel, watching his wife worriedly, clearly showed his unease.
“You collapsed for so long, yet you’re fine. Should we get another doctor?”
“No, Pavel. The doctor examined me properly. I’ve judged the same.”
“But…”
For Pavel, the most authoritative doctor was Sasha herself.
Unable to argue, he swallowed his dissatisfaction and followed her judgment, as always.
Yet his concern remained, and throughout the journey, he carefully watched over her.
Sasha was grateful and apologetic for his care, but her mind was too occupied with troubling thoughts to focus on it.
‘What is it? This memory I had forgotten… No, the memory that was forcibly made me forget.’
Sitting steadily in the carriage, she opened the old book resting on her lap.
No matter how she touched the worn leather cover, the mysterious voice from before did not speak.
Even if she tried to enter her memory palace to the deepest point, she could not peer beyond the barrier.
The remaining clue was the book itself: The Epic of the Forgotten Hero.
Sasha calmed her breathing and opened the cover, reading from the preface carefully.
The contents were the same as before. Nothing had changed. Any hidden secret she hadn’t discovered remained concealed.
What had impressed her most was the villain in the middle of the story.
A witch appeared, trying to endanger the adventuring party aiming to defeat the evil dragon that would destroy the world—and coincidentally, her name was familiar.
‘Naina… Could it just be a namesake?’
Sasha didn’t think it was mere coincidence.
A dark-mage witch named Naina, intricately entwined with her past life, now persistently crossing paths in this life—it felt impossible for there to be no connection.
Moreover, there was another character with the same name in the book.
‘Ruslan.’
The lover of hero Lyudmila, who tragically dies during their journey.
Ironically, his death enrages the bereaved hero, awakening her power and enabling her to seal evil.
The conclusion of the final chapter:
“Thus, Lyudmila, having endured hardship and sacrifice, sealed away evil and became a hero. Yet beside the hero who saved the world, the most precious was gone.”
Sasha traced the sentence with her fingertips, recalling Yggdrasil’s words:
“If you do not reclaim all three fragments of evil, you shall live forever. I wonder when I will release that curse-like blessing.”
Carefully pondering those words, she realized that her countless reincarnations and remembrance of every life were due to her pact with Yggdrasil.
To seal evil, she had offered her “forgetfulness” to Yggdrasil in exchange for the power she lacked.
Thus, in her first life, she was able to save the world—but the price was that she remained bound to all the lives she had lived since.
“You have already paid a sufficient price. Do not let this opportunity pass; use it to end this arduous life that has been so long and wearisome.”
…Perhaps this life was truly the last chance to break the endless cycle of reincarnation.
Sasha glanced out the carriage window, catching sight of Pavel ahead.
A world without him was unimaginable. It would be more agonizing than any despair she had endured.
Could she live without Pavel? Could she live normally without him?
Perhaps.
She could feign normalcy on the surface.
But she could never live like this.
Endless lives had brought her emptiness and solitude.
Perhaps this was the last life in which she could feel full emotions as a normal human being, alongside others.
The thought that she might not survive life without Pavel filled her with vague dread.
Sasha gripped the old book tightly.
Everything could end.
She didn’t know whether that fact brought joy or sorrow, but it felt, somehow, hollow.
