Flashback

  It was not long ago when I had been wandering the city streets, looking for Fernin. That reckless fool was always disappearing when I needed him most. Where did he go this time? I had been thinking of giving up and heading back to the restaurant when I felt a nudge at my side.

  Turning, I saw a woman with dark braids and freckled cheeks. Her eyes, wide with anxiety, darted around as if she were being watched.

  "Yes? How can I help you?" I asked, calm but curious.

  "Do you have a system?" she blurted out, her voice low but insistent. It was clear she was in some kind of trouble.

  I narrowed my eyes slightly. "I do. What's this about?"

  She hesitated, then nodded quickly. "Can you come with me?" Her words were rushed, but her fear was palpable.

  "Do you need help?" I asked, studying her carefully.

  She nodded again, more urgently this time. I had no reason to refuse, so I followed her.

  Back to the Present

  "Where are you?" Thailon's voice came through the system, a touch of worry coloring his usually steady tone. It was strange; we'd always communicated by letter before, and this new calling feature felt both convenient and intrusive. Like when I have in my fist life.

  But it feels new since it's been long time ago.

  "I'm not entirely sure," I replied, scanning the surroundings. "I seem to have been dragged into some impromptu competition."

  "Are you displaying your abilities, then?" he asked, sounding half-curious, half-amused.

  I let out a measured sigh. "I'd rather not. I didn't choose to be here, after all." Then I softened my tone a bit. "Is everything going smoothly at the stall?"

  "Yes, things are under control," he assured me. "But where are you exactly? I'll come to you."

  "There's no need for that," I replied, keeping my voice steady. "I'll manage to find my way out."

  Of course, that was easier said than done. I might have decades of experience under my belt, but my sense of direction was another story entirely. I could get lost in a straight hallway if I wasn't careful. Still, I wasn't about to admit that to Thailon.

  "Well, thank you for checking in," I added, a touch more warmly. "I'll make sure to show my appreciation once I'm back."

  Then the woman with buff muscle and yellow hair come sit next to me again "So did you choose your class?" she asked me.

  "Mage" I answer

  "You talk like you're older than you look," she observed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "How old are you?"

  "I'm 20," I said, though there was a part of me that felt far older. Life—and the system—had a way of making you feel as though time stretched longer than it should.

  She chuckled. "Well, I'm older than you then!"

  I smiled faintly, amused by her playful tone. "Perhaps physically," I replied quietly, "but not in every sense."

  Someone point of View

  "You want me to heal the competitors in this tournament? Did Thailon, that meddling elf, send you to ask this of me?" I asked, my gaze fixed on the man bowing before me. The audacity.

  Thailon had been acting as if he was suddenly in charge ever since Lara had been gone, as if her absence had somehow elevated him to leadership. I scoffed, barely holding back my disdain. Is he serious?

  The man shifted uncomfortably, nervously clearing his throat. "N-no, Master Caelum. This request comes from the vice headmaster. The great hero Thailon would never impose on you for such... things."

  Things? My eyes narrowed, a chill creeping into my tone. "Are you insulting me?" I asked, watching him pale as my words sank in.

  "No, " he stammered, his head bowing even lower.

  Ah, yes. The Fifth. I glanced down at myself. Actually, this was my fourth body.

  "Tell them I'm unavailable," I said curtly, standing up and pushing the chair back with a deliberate slowness. "I have neither the time nor the interest to waste on healing random participants. They'll have to find someone else. I will not impose myself to those useless individual" I hadn't even planned on staying here; somehow, I'd been dragged into this whole situation.

  Turning away, I felt the familiar weight of my responsibilities bearing down on me. I

  had already failed to bring Lara back—how could they expect me to spend my time on a meaningless task like this? And now, with the knowledge that Lara was indeed alive, I had more pressing matters at hand. I needed to find everyone and piece together how this was even possible.

  And more importantly find her.

  "But Master, if you refuse," the man's voice wavered, and he hesitated. "The vice headmaster warned that you would no longer be welcome at the academy."

  I stopped mid-step, barely turning my head as I spoke. "You're serious?" I asked, my voice cold and biting. "The academy—that place? You think I'd care about being banished from a building erected by a mere elf?"

  The man trembled, lowering his head even further. "I-I apologize, Master! I didn't mean to offend—"

  This is god damn annoying

  I want to go back to the past- if I just can.

  Flashback

  "You really want to help people?" I had asked Lara once, marveling at the optimism that poured from her every word. She stood under the fading sun, its warmth reflecting off her like a beacon of hope, a light I could never quite understand.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  "Yeah, I do." She flashed that bright, radiant smile that made the world seem less daunting. "That's why I'm going to fight the Demon Lord."

  I could never quite grasp it—her idealistic view of the world, so different from mine. She spoke of hope and justice like they were absolutes, truths etched in stone. Lara was different from anyone I had ever known.

  She wasn't just capable—she was unstoppable, a prodigy in her own right. She could heal the gravest wounds, wield any weapon with grace, and master any class as if the gods themselves had molded her for this purpose. And yet, she chose to surround herself with people like me.

  People like us.

  "You can heal people," I had pointed out, more curious than questioning. "Why would you even bother accepting someone like me into your party?"

  I wasn't worthy of her light. I had only wanted to join out of curiosity, a selfish desire to see what someone like her was capable of. How could someone talk so casually about defeating a Demon Lord? It felt absurd to me, even laughable, but when Lara spoke, I believed her.

  Her answer, though, was not what I expected.

  "Because you're nice," she had said, her smile soft, never faltering. "And you seem like you'd fit well in my team."

  Nice? The word had hit me like a gust of cold wind. No one had ever called me that before, not in earnest. It felt foreign, almost laughable. But Lara—she had a way of making everyone feel seen, of making you believe that you were more than your past, more than your scars.

  "You know priests can't have wives, right? Are you sure you won't regret it someday?" she teased, like she always did, a playful glint in her eyes as if I were just a child dreaming too big.

  I had laughed then, trying to mask the warmth creeping up my cheeks. "I became a priest to help people and study the holy arts. I'm not bound by the same restrictions. If I want to, I can take off my robes and live like anyone else."

  Her teasing smile had deepened, and she ruffled my hair like I was some little kid.

  "Oh, you're such a nice boy," she had said, her tone light but laced with something else. Something I couldn't see at the time.

  I had brushed it off as just Lara being Lara—always lighthearted, always warm. But now, thinking back, I realized that smile had carried a weight I had failed to notice. There was something deeper, something darker hiding behind that unwavering kindness. A sadness in her eyes that flickered just beneath the surface.

  But by the time I recognized it, it was already too late.

  -------------------------

  Don't push yourself, Caelum. I'm destined to die anyway," Lara had whispered through blood-stained lips, her voice barely a breath as I frantically tried to save her. The curse was spreading, a vile and malevolent force stronger than anything I had ever encountered. My hands trembled as I cast healing after healing, but nothing could undo the darkness wrapping around her like chains.

  "No! I won't let it take you!" I had screamed, my voice cracking with desperation as I poured every ounce of power I had into the spell, my soul burning with the effort. The light of the divine flickered around us, but it wasn't enough. It was never enough.

  Lara's hand, cold and trembling, reached up to my head, her touch gentle despite the agony she was in. "It's already been decided," she murmured, her smile weak but kind, that same soft smile she always wore, even in the face of death. "Don't waste your strength on me."

  The elf beside me, his voice sharp with anger, had screamed at me, accused me of failing. "You were supposed to protect her!" he shouted, his words like knives cutting into me, but I wasn't listening. I wasn't done.

  I wasn't ready to let go.

  The world had narrowed down to just the two of us, Lara's fading heartbeat against my frantic prayers. I was ready to call upon every divine power I could muster, ready to sacrifice anything, everything, to save her. My hands shook as I gathered the last of my strength.

  But then her hand, weak and trembling, tightened on mine.

  "I said, don't push it," she whispered, her voice barely a breath, her eyes closing as she exhaled one last time.

  And just like that, it was over.

  The light I had tried so desperately to hold onto flickered and died in my hands, leaving nothing but emptiness. The world went silent, and all I could do was stare at her still face, her soft smile frozen in time, as if she had simply fallen asleep.

  I had failed. The weight of that realization crushed me, suffocating the last spark of hope that had been keeping me standing. Lara was gone, and no amount of magic, no divine intervention, could bring her back.

  I fell to my knees beside her, the warmth of her hand still lingering in mine, though it was rapidly fading. The curse had taken her, just like she said it would. And in that moment, everything in me shattered.

  It was not a victory.

  Back to Present

  I clenched my fists, memories of her final moments washing over me.

  I shook the memory from my mind and faced the bowing man.

  "Tell your vice head master this: I'm not healing anyone in that competition, nor will I ever step foot in the academy again if that's his condition. I have more important things to do than entertain the whims of lesser men."

  The gods did not grant my wish, and I still lost her. Being nice? That doesn't change anything. Screw being nice- Being nice doesn't help all the people I help doesn't even help me when I needed to.

  I vowed that I would bring her back, no matter what it takes. I've already placed a curse on myself—until I achieve my goal, I'll be reincarnated again and again, taking on new bodies. Until I can revive her, I don't care how many years or lifetimes it takes.

  I will bring her back I want to see that smile again

  I was brooding over my latest failure when a voice suddenly interrupted my thoughts.

  "Oh, did I get lost?" A woman's voice filled the room as she stepped through the door. She looked at me with wide eyes, as if she recognized me. The shock on her face was unmistakable.

  What is she doing here? I thought.

  "Are you from the Henessy family?" she asked abruptly.

  "Yes, she is, miss, and he is the fifth master... kindly show your respect" the old man beside me replied, his tone sharp. "But what brings you here?"

  The woman fumbled an apology, looking anxious. "I didn't mean to intrude. I was looking for the resting room for the competition. I must've taken a wrong turn, but a child begged me to join this tournament, so I couldn't just leave. Can you point me in the right direction?"

  She looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't place her. Something about the way she spoke—it was unsettling that it felt so familiar.

  The old man sighed and replied, "The room you're looking for is on the floor below. You've gone one floor too high."

  "Ah, I see. The elevator must've had an error," she muttered as if speaking to herself, still slightly flustered. "Thank you and sorry for the bother," she said quickly, turning to leave.

  Just as I thought she was gone, the door creaked open again, and she poked her head back in. "Oh, before I go—" she began, her eyes locking onto mine. A slight smirk played on her lips.

  "Black doesn't really suit you, child. You should wear white. You look like someone I once knew, and white suited him much better. Well it just suggestion so-" She pulled out a white priest's cloak and matching boots, and without another word, dropped them on the floor. "Consider this my blessing. It's a gift for my old friend"

  She closed the door behind her before I could respond.

  The old man eyed the items warily. "Should I throw these out?" he asked.

  I stared at the cloak for a long moment before replying. "No."

  Flashback

  "Child, don't wear black. It makes you look like an antagonist or something," Lara had teased, her voice light and playful, fingers clicking at the air as if she was adjusting something in an invisible system only she could see. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, and her laughter, always so full of life, echoed through the quiet room.

  I had glanced down at my black robes, raising an eyebrow. "I thought it made me look mysterious," I had joked back, but deep down, I knew her words had a point. Lara always saw the light in everyone, and in her eyes, black was a color that dimmed that brightness.

  With a flourish, she had handed me a white priest's cloak, the fabric soft and adorned with intricate golden threads that shimmered in the light. "Wear this instead," she insisted, pressing the cloak into my hands. "Black really doesn't suit you. And we already had enough darkness because of Morven"

  Her smile, so warm and vibrant, had made me feel lighter in that moment, like everything would be alright just because she was there.

  And back then, I believed it. She seemed so invincible, so full of life.

  End OF Flashback

  But now, that smile lived only in my memories.

  This robe can only be gifted by one person, and while it may seem ordinary, it's anything but this is Level S. She can't be Lara, despite the resemblance, but...

  "I will heal the players," I announced, my resolve hardening.

  "What made you change your mind?" the old man asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

  "Are you really going to ask me that? Just make sure I don't see that elf lurking around, or I will destroy this entire area," I warned him.

  Something is amiss and I need to make sure something that woman I feel that she might have a connection with Lara.