Love Letter From The Future

Where is this place?

It has been a while since I dreamed. ‘Vampire,’ I thought, and forced my muscles, which were as stiff as lead, to move.

Sense of smell, taste, touch.

Three of my five senses were broken. As I crawled along the ground, my mouth must have filled with grass and dirt, yet I felt no sensation. Not even a hint of a scent brushed my nose.

Death.

An end that a mortal should naturally fear was approaching. The woman realized that there was no hope left for her body to revitalize.

And yet, why?

The woman kept crawling along the ground, desperately reaching out her hands as if she were hideous.

A dim light shone in her blurred vision.

Had it already become morning? Suddenly, she realized that her body was trembling.

It was cold.

Though her sense of touch was gone, the refreshing sound of wind brushing past her ears heralded autumn.

It was the season of abundance.

Now that she thought about it, yes. When autumn arrived, she would go out to the territory and congratulate the territory’s people for their bountiful harvest. There was no better opportunity to gauge public sentiment with all sorts of people gathered together.

Moreover, it would help cultivate the social skills of a little girl who had chosen to be a loner.

At that time, the child who had trailed behind her.

That small girl had, before long, grown tall enough to look down on her.

Unintentionally, the woman let out a chuckle.

“…You’ve grown well.”

“Is that the end of your last words?”

A cold tone.

She had a temperament that clearly separated work from personal matters. Truly, hadn’t she grown splendidly?

More laughter escaped the woman’s lips.

“Last words? Yes, my last words… I should leave them. To my beloved younger sister, the next head of our family…”

The woman’s body was not normal.

She had crawled so desperately, but the distance she moved was hardly more than a few steps. In fact, part of her lower body was already caught in the gap of an unfathomable void.

The traces of a broken barrier.

A space filled with emptiness might become her tomb.

Her unfocused blue eyes slowly turned upward. There, the shadows of three people stood.

The Great Witch, Ian, and an unnamed little mage.

Gasping for breath, the woman exhaled.

“After a very long time, looking back…”

Memories that had not surfaced in all that time flashed through her mind.

The memory of dragging her sister, who didn’t want to go out, to the market.

Yes, that was it.

“How foolishly I had so many regrets.”

Next, the memory of her sister sulking when she smeared birthday cake cream on her face.

Memories forgotten for hundreds of years intruded upon her mind. Scenes she had never recalled once.

The woman simply believed she had lost everything. All that remained to her was only despair.

“I have nothing but sighs left…”

Then, when she first formed the ring of her heart, the memory of lifting her sister high to celebrate it.

Suddenly, a man’s question floated back to her mind.

‘So, what now?’

‘What have you regained?’

Now she understood.

Affection, respect, love.

The false titles of ‘the continent’s greatest mage,’ ‘a promising sorceress,’ or ‘the next head of the family, burdened with the expectations of the vassals.’

She could no longer regain them. The woman had been a monster on the brink of incinerating the continent, and those who should have revered her as their leader had been offered as sacrifices.

That was it.

From the start, the woman’s desires had been hollow.

“…The only content of my hope was ‘jealousy.’”

She had searched for love, only to cast it aside.

Tears welled in the corners of the woman’s blurred eyes. With a hollow laugh.

“You won… Maryen.”

“I’ve known that for a long time. Ever since you sacrificed our whole family to the Dark Cult.”

There was no desire to counter that cold declaration. The woman merely murmured helplessly.

“That’s right, nothing has been left to me since that day. All that I longed to reclaim from you… Haha, how ridiculous.”

“It’s a relief to realize it before you die. The remaining sin will be atoned for in hell.”

“But, Maryen.”

The woman, facing death, broke into a smile. It was an exceedingly beautiful smile.

Like the last blooming summer flower before autumn arrived.

“Since I have nothing left… there is, rather, something I cannot throw away. Just one thing…”

It was then.

“I will take what is yours.”

The final flame ignited in the woman’s eyes as the light faded. The blood that flowed from her body surged forth as a sharp spear.

In an instant.

The woman’s retina captured her last prey.

Ian Fercurus.

This person is dangerous.

All plans began to go awry from this person. Delphrium, the Dark Cult, might fall apart because of him.

So, kill him.

For the new world that the Dark Cult would open up!

Just as the blood spear was about to pierce the vacant-eyed man’s throat.

With a squish.

The woman pondered a faint question as her vision blurred. The spear of blood that had been rising with terrifying momentum stopped just as her last ounce of concentration dispersed.

A gaze of disbelief turned toward her back.

There, the surging blood was reflected. No.

Those white teeth, tearing into the woman’s nape, and those golden eyes filled with malice and madness.

The vampire had no choice but to bare its teeth.

“Desire…!”

“You’re told not to touch my brother…?”

While biting through her comrade’s lifeline with torn limbs instead of teeth, the girl whispered.

“…Bitch.”

That was the end.

The woman, unable to even scream, fell into the remnants of the unfathomable barrier along with the girl.

The end of one of the Seven Deadly Sins.

“Ugh, ugh, ugh…!”

Ragged breaths escaped through clenched teeth. In a clearing whose location was unknown, dawn had arrived, but the sun’s grace, which should be fair to everyone, did not reach there.

In the very center, the girl lay face down.

Long, flowing black hair, white skin, and golden eyes.

Her originally beautiful appearance was still shining, even covered in dirt. The only blemish was perhaps the bloodshot whites of her eyes.

She had bitten down so hard that her jaw was shaking. And yet, the girl refused to give up, writhing. All her limbs were tied, rendering her struggles futile.

Before her sat a woman, crouching with a languid expression.

“Is it painful?”

It was an enchanting voice.

Soft yet a captivating tone that pierced one’s spirit in an instant. That was why the woman was all the more inscrutable.

What on earth was this person?

The girl’s name was Celin, and she did not care about that name. She was simply curious about the identity of the woman sitting before her.

At first, her impression was simply that the woman was excessively attractive. If she were to add anything, it would be a gut feeling that this woman was dangerous?

But the more she looked, the more peculiar it became.

It felt like encountering a specter. An existing being, yet one that did not exist.

It was there one moment and then suddenly vanished the next.

She couldn’t discern the conditions of her existence. She could only speculate that recalling the woman’s presence might act as a trigger of some sort.

Of course, Celin’s worries did not last long.

Strange scenes pried into her retina and eardrums. Visions constantly gnawing at Celin’s mental state.

Her beloved childhood friend holds the Virgin Saint of the Holy Kingdom in his arms.

A maiden renowned as the finest flower across the continent, favored by the Heavenly Deity.

Her childhood friend whispered love into the woman’s ear. Words he had never uttered to Celin even once.

“Ugh, ugh, ugh….”

But how could she be jealous?

The other person was the Virgin Saint of the Holy Kingdom. A figure whose position was incomparably higher than that of the daughter of a fallen noble.

Appearance, skill, status.

There was nothing she could match. It was an innate limitation.

Something predetermined from birth.

In addition, countless other scenes brushed past her retina.

Her beloved childhood friend secretly kisses a commoner girl behind Celin’s back.

The fact that he was engaged to a woman notorious for her bad temper and even had a mistress with whom he had an illicit relationship.

Jealousy ignites. Yes, it should at times like that.

The image of Celin, who was of no help in battle, filled her mind.

‘The rookie got hit first.’

Incompetent.

‘Only eager but brought no help at all.’

Incompetent.

‘Even went so far as to make a wrong contract and nearly put myself in danger.’

Incredibly pathetic.

Now, Celin could not even tell whose voices whispered in her ears. As she vacillated between hallucinations and whispers countless times, she lost the ability to discern truth from falsehood.

All she could do was press her arms tightly against her ears, trying to block out the whispers.

It was futile.

Celin’s arms could not even block out the voice of the woman before her.

“Why are you in pain?”

It was a somewhat trivial question, unlike her usual self.

At the very least, it was enough to make Celin choke up and speak out of line.

“Y-you… gods… show illusions as they please…!”

“It might not be an illusion.”

“Don’t be ridiculous…!”

Grinding her teeth, Celin desperately squeezed out her voice, filled with blood.

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