A faint golden light emanated from Vercheria’s body lying on the bed.

From the undulating hair, the white skin, the golden light gradually intensified, enveloping Lacraxan as well.

The moment he felt the warm light permeating through the skin.

Lacraxan suddenly felt the surroundings being sucked into pitch-black darkness.

“Edkins.”

A strange voice was shaking him awake.

“Edkins!”

Lacraxan tried not to wake up, keeping his eyes closed.

Now was not the time for such useless things, even if he was interrupted.

He needed to save Vercheria.

In the current situation, where he didn’t know what might happen to her right now, he couldn’t afford to be swayed by trivial dreams.

“Hey! Edkins, you rascal!”

Thunk!

Suddenly, the sound of a slap woke Lacraxan up with a bewildered expression.

Despite participating in countless forms of battles on the battlefield, he had never been slapped before.

Even after returning to the empire, no one had dared to slap the Duke.

“It’s your turn. Are you playing around because you won once? Do you want to toy with me just because you won once?”

Lacraxan stared intently at the woman sitting in front of him.

In white clothes, with all her hair turned white, the woman’s eye color was closer to gray than white.

Staring at the scene for the first time in his life, he was dumbfounded as she stretched her legs under the table and kicked him in the thigh this time.

“Oh, really? Why is this rascal like this today? Hurry up!”

In front of the shouting woman, a chessboard was placed.

Lacraxan looked at the woman once, then at the chessboard, and moved his knight forward.

“Oh-ho. That’s an unexpected attack, isn’t it?”

While humming a tune, the woman chose her move, sighing as if bored.

“But that woman.”

Lacraxan still fixed his gaze on the woman and asked.

“Who?”

The woman, with her chin in her hand, moved one of her pieces, saying.

“Vercheria.”

Lacraxan raised his pupils and looked at the woman.

“Vercheria?”

“Yeah. That human woman.”

Lacraxan looked down at his own body.

He was entirely dressed in black.

Similar to the woman’s airy clothes, with long black hair almost touching the ground.

Lacraxan realized that this was Edkins, his memory of being a god.

“What about that woman.”

“It’s not about what. The fact that a human knows how to kill a god is the problem. Isn’t it?”

“To kill a god?”

“Rather, should I make that woman a god? Then I won’t go around wasting my life. How about that?”

Vercheria looked at the men lying on the floor.

And Groovy lying among them.

Still, she was so grateful that she had saved this child.

She picked up Groovy and took a few difficult steps.

She had to leave this place before the men woke up, just in case.
Yes, that was the last memory.

Why am I running through the forest now?

What’s this outfit? Where am I?

Is this also a memory of the previous Awakener?

No.

This was her memory.

Reflected in the puddle was none other than herself.

She, a very long time ago.

When she was Vercheria, and Edkins Merc was the first Edkins, back then.

She was looking at the place where it all began.

“Oh? The rain is stopping.”

Merc, holding a strange woman, looked up at the sky.

The thick raindrops that had been pouring for days were thinning.

“It seems like the weather is finally clearing up.”

With one hand holding the reins, Merc mounted the horse.

Even while holding the woman, his movements were as light as a feather.

“Hurry. The road is slippery.”

“Alright.”

As Merc pulled the reins and moved forward, Elliott, the escort knight right behind him, shouted.

“Everyone, follow the commander’s lead!”

At the same time, dozens of horses crossed the forest path like bullets.

Behind them, thick fog enveloped them.

Seeing the woman properly indoors, she looked like a soaked rat. That was the expression.

There was no other way to describe it.

Her hair and face were covered in mud, and the rag-like clothes were torn and pitiful.

Fortunately, as soon as she arrived, she regained her senses and stood up alone, but her trembling body was so pitiful that it was heartbreaking.

Drip, drip.

As the dirty hem of her clothes dripped rain, the maids who came in response to Merc’s call frowned at the same time.

“It’s better to wash up first.”

Taking off her cloak, she passed by the people.

The air changed, and the wet white shirt came into everyone’s view.

Visible up to the waistline, the slender muscular body caused the cheeks of the maids who had just wrinkled with displeasure to turn red.

Due to the characteristics of the cold and barren region, there were many well-built males in the north.

Among them, Merc, who was also a Dash[대쉬] God, stood out, but unlike the big guys like bears, he was even taller, and the muscles he possessed were neither dull nor clumsy.

There was no woman who could not love Merc, who was more proficient in books than swords, even if she didn’t love him for his skill with the knife.

“After bathing, bring the guest to my bedroom.”