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Plainly speaking, it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation. It felt unusual, as if the blood flow throughout the body had reversed all at once. It was an anomaly where the memories of others poured into the gaps of one’s brain without reservation.

Lichter was tormented by a sense of discomfort and nausea, but he could not escape from it. Even if he turned his head to the side or closed his eyes, the image was directly attached to his retina, and he could not reject it.

At first, there were only scattered pieces of inexplicable and unremarkable images. However, it didn’t take long for him to realize that they were the memories of others.

A little boy. A memory of an orphan boy, which was not so different from Lichter’s own experience. It was presented in a disorganized, frame-by-frame manner. The boy’s spirit was unwavering.

Despite his traumatic upbringing, he lived a healthy life, overcame many obstacles, and strengthened his heart.

(He’s nothing like me.)

Lichter thought. However, Lichter didn’t witness everything. There was darkness there, too, much like his own.

The boy eventually grew up to be majestic, rugged, and strong. From boy to youth, he, like Lichter, was a man who lived by the sword. Growing up with the sword and shaping the future with the sword. The youth’s talent was noteworthy.

His exceptional skill with the sword, backed by a robust spirit, radiated brightly. One thing to admire about the youth was that his skills far exceeded those of Lichter.

Strangely, Lichter was not surprised. He slowly grew familiar with the youth’s strength and thoughts due to being forced to relive the boy’s memories. Lichter knew well what the boy’s strength was and what thoughts shaped his being.

Lichter could only describe the boy as an admirable human. It was inconceivable that a person with such a tragic past and such talent would not grow conceited or covetous and would continue to use his power for the sake of others.

(You naive brat.)

It was like reading an adventure book for kids. After all, there was no way that such a perfect person existed. However, the further development greatly betrayed Lichter’s expectations.

Just as the boy grew up into a teen, he was anointed a knight of the kingdom. His fearless face was one that Lichter recognized. At this point, Lichter finally understood what he was looking at. It was a part of the Hero Orthus’ memories.

Rather than asking why he was seeing it, Lichter was more interested in what would come. The human being, known as Orthus, spent his life giving to others. He was a supreme knight who was loyal to the king, loved his fellow men, and cared about the future of his kingdom.

His tales of heroism had not been exaggerated. He had no hesitation in getting himself dirty with mud for a starving child and was willing to risk his own life to save another.

(It’s just like that girl)

Lichter felt the need to acknowledge some things after being forced to experience these memories. He was uncertain whether he could now honestly claim that Orthus and the knights weren’t trying their hardest. He was beginning to feel that it might not be fair to hold them responsible for his brother’s death.

Having experienced Orthus’ life, Lichter could now confidently say that Orthus did not compromise, especially when it came to saving the weak.

“……”

Lichter’s ideas of a knight and someone powerful began to crumble. The hero that Lichter had wished for at that time was, in fact, a hero. He just hadn’t shown up for himself and his brother. It was that obvious.

Lichter could somehow understand that. But then, he didn’t know where to direct his anger. Was he supposed to silently accept the reality that his brother was murdered and that he was to blame for leaving him to die? When he thought about this, a different kind of anger rose in him.

Had he not taken that decision, he would not have been able to live. He would not have become this strong. Reality and fiction, facts and wishes, were mixed in Lichter’s head.

The scene before Lichter then took a quick turn, as if leaving his muddled thoughts behind. The sky was full of stars, and a sea of corpses stretched as far as the horizon. Standing there alone was the hero Orthus, his white Sacred Armor dyed crimson.

Then he, too, exhausted his strength and fell. Holding out his hand to the starry sky, he wished and thought about many things. To be able to wish so warmly in his last hours was heroic.

As the many thoughts filled his mind, a chilling pain and an equal amount of suffering suddenly washed over him, and Orthus slowly surrendered himself to death.

Lichter’s heart trembled at the end of a man who had cared about the people and the king to an unparalleled degree. Lichter was the only person in this world to see Orthus’ final moments.

In a sense, he had become the hero’s friend because he had shared his thoughts and wishes.

The heroic tale ended there. However, the story that had touched Lichter’s heart was unveiling its second chapter.

(What?)

A baby’s soft hands, a luxurious mansion, a beautiful mother, a father, and a brother. Lichter was unable to comprehend what was going on. It was completely different from what he had just seen, yet he was sure that these were still Orthus’ memories.

As the baby in the image grew up, it began to fill the world with light. This person was identical to Orthus but in a completely different form. Beautiful, unfinished, and aesthetic.

Blonde hair and deep blue eyes. Silky, smooth skin. A perfect face that bore no resemblance to its male counterpart. The girl, known as Seletina, was the hero Orthus.

Lichter went utterly blank the moment he realized this.