I Became the Narrow-Eyed Character in the Little Prince Game-Chapter 142: The Drunkard (6)

"I came to keep my promise."

I stood there, holding the woman in my arms.

Her violet hair fluttered slightly.

Around us, only the thinnest threads of silence remained.

The underground prison, once heavy with tension, had fallen into absolute stillness.

"······."

I looked down at the warmth in my embrace.

The drunkard was in a wretched state.

Her limbs were covered in wounds, barely a patch of unbroken skin remained. Blood trailed down her forehead, stark against her pale complexion. Her face was gaunt, devoid of life.

Selena sat on the ground, looking up at me.

Her red eyes trembled in a daze.

‘Did I startle her too much?’

She seemed unable to grasp the situation.

She could only question.

Why was she still alive?

Why had her self-destruction failed?

Why was a familiar face standing before her?

Her confusion was written plainly across her expression.

Even the mask of indifference she usually wore had cracked—she must have been truly shaken.

I let out a bitter smile.

‘You did it.’

I had been watching.

Waiting to see what choice she would make.

Would she wake from her stupor, or would she repeat her mistakes?

I had believed in her.

I had believed in the regret she had whispered in her weakest moment.

I had believed in the faint light flickering in her eyes.

If it were her, then surely—she would not let despair consume her as I once did.

I had waited for her choice.

And in the end—

—"I just sobered up."

She had chosen to endure the hangover.

Even though the poison that had built up over the years would make sobriety painful.

She had chosen to move forward.

"Professor."

Still lost in a daze, Selena barely reacted.

I cupped her cheek, my voice dropping into a whisper.

"Thank you."

For proving my trust was not misplaced.

I let a small smile form on my lips.

Where my palm touched her skin, a faint shadow seeped in.

The darkness coiled and spread, like ink bleeding into fabric.

Slowly, it was absorbed into her skin.

And with the dissolution of a lie, her wounds began to heal.

Srrrrrk—.

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Her once-ruined appearance was restored.

All that remained was smooth, unblemished skin.

As the pain faded, so too did the haze in the drunkard’s eyes.

Our gazes met.

"Sit for a moment. This will all be over soon."

I shrugged off my robe.

Then draped it over Selena’s shoulders.

She was an adult, stained with blood and dust, but the pristine white fabric wrapped around her shoulders as if to hide all that.

As if to cover up the tattered remnants of her past.

"Hmm."

I turned away.

At the end of my gaze stood the angels clad in white.

Their formation was perfectly aligned.

A precise, disciplined unit.

They were none other than Astro’s elite forces.

Squelch.

Only crimson footprints remained at their feet.

The corpses of the guards who had once stood watch over this prison lay scattered around.

Now, they were nothing more than rotting meat.

As I silently took in the scent of blood hanging in the air, the angel standing at the forefront spoke.

The vice-captain.

"Master."

"Neria."

"The underground level has been infiltrated and secured. Please give the order for our forces to advance to the upper floors."

"We have confirmed approximately two hundred enemies stationed in this branch. Our side numbers only ten—meaning we are facing a twenty-to-one disadvantage."

I narrowed my eyes.

As if to say, Give me an answer that will satisfy me as your master.

"How long will it take?"

"Exactly thirty minutes... No, we will clear it within twenty."

"In that case, proceed."

The angels’ eyes gleamed with an intense light.

I gave my command to Neria, and to all those standing behind her.

It was an order of slaughter.

"Stars."

"“······.”"

"Illuminate the night."

The angels bowed their heads in unison.

Their fluttering robes cast white afterimages, resembling scattered starlight.

"“All shall be as you will.”"

And then.

The stars moved.

Their pure white vestments were soon to be dyed in red.

The extermination of the branch was swift.

From the beginning, this branch had been a weak one—its forces were swept away like autumn leaves.

The swords and magic wielded by my unit held no mercy.

Especially Neria.

"Light, descend."

Fwoosh—!

Blazing starlight delivered judgment upon the wicked.

Not even corpses remained in its wake.

The cultists retaliated with chimeras and black magic, but they could not so much as halt the silver-haired girl.

They crumbled into ashes.

The other angels followed Neria’s lead, each carrying out executions in their own way.

I simply watched the purification unfold.

Perhaps ten minutes had passed.

"Master. The area is secure."

"Well done."

They were only ten.

And yet, they had annihilated a branch of two hundred in just ten minutes.

It seemed I had chosen well—they were certainly powerful.

The vice-captain saluted.

With the branch secured, safety was no longer an issue.

I turned back to the drunkard, reaching out a hand.

"Professor."

"······."

Selena, who had been lying on the ground.

Perhaps she had finally begun to process the situation.

The initial shock and confusion had subsided.

But her expression remained complicated.

Kneeling there alone, she turned her head away from my outstretched hand.

As if rejecting the gesture.

"It’s over now."

"······."

"Let’s go home. Everyone is waiting."

Galimar Academy.

I told her to come home with me.

But the drunkard did not take my hand.

Perhaps she was lost in thought. Perhaps she simply lacked the courage.

Her lips trembled as she muttered.

"······Yuda."

"Come on, get up."

"I... can’t. I can’t shamelessly go back there..."

"Excuse me for a moment."

"...Huh?"

Grab—.

Without warning, I pulled her into my arms.

A faint warmth spread between us.

Before she could resist, I lifted her up.

A position commonly referred to as a "princess carry."

"Y-Yuda... Student...?"

"Shh."

We remained like that.

Just as I had escorted her at the banquet, when we became each other’s firsts.

Selena, caught off guard by the sudden action, clutched at my sleeve.

"W-Wait... Where are you taking me?"

"I already told you. If there’s a home for you, it’s the academy. Everyone is waiting for you."

"...Everyone?"

"Yes, everyone. The moment they realized the hospitalized patient had disappeared, they panicked. The headmaster, your students, your fellow professors... Even that Professor Cadel has been looking for you."

"...Why?"

Her head lowered, her body trembling.

Tears welled in her eyes, as if they were about to burst.

But she swallowed them back.

As if she had no right to cry.

As if the weight of her sins, now spilled beyond recovery, was something she had to bear like a noose around her neck.

A crushing guilt.

"I... I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve to return to the academy."

"And why would you think that?"

"You know, Yuda. You know what I almost did."

"Professor."

"I almost destroyed the things I loved. I nearly ruined the people who loved me. And I used my own sorrow as an excuse for it all."

Her pupils trembled.

She looked as though she would die at any moment.

The shoulders in my arms shook weakly.

"Just... let me end it here."

A plea.

Perhaps even a desperate wish.

She was ready to accept the end of her wretched life.

To take responsibility in the only way she thought she could.

But—

"How foolish."

That was not responsibility.

"Professor, what you’re doing is nothing more than running away."

Death is never a form of responsibility.

Nor should it ever be.

It only leaves wounds on those left behind, unresolved conflicts that fester into scars.

If she truly wanted to [N O V E L I G H T] take responsibility, she had to face it.

Even if it meant bearing the weight of her sins.

"You must live. Only then will you have the chance to atone."

God grants opportunities only to the living.

Once dead, there are no chances to seek forgiveness, no way to set things right.

"But..."

"Why do you insist that this is the end?"

I had been watching her.

A woman full of wounds.

And yet, a woman who was warm.

She had always pretended to be indifferent to the world, but deep down, she cared for her students. That was why so many followed her at the academy—it was never just luck.

She had built those bonds herself.

That was proof of her kindness.

If.

If she had not chosen the path of vengeance... I believed she could have been a remarkable educator.

And even now, I believed it wasn’t too late.

She had just escaped the long tunnel of regret.

—"Go to hell."

—"I’ve had enough of being controlled by you for five years."

She had shed her past sins.

Her life was only just now standing at the starting line.

Not driven by anger, but by love.

For the first time, she was choosing to protect what mattered to her.

She had earned the right to remain in this world.

In mine.

And in hers.

"Professor."

In the original story, you deserved to die.

Because you let your rage and sorrow drag too many into ruin.

But in this world, you did not.

No one was harmed. No one suffered.

"You have not destroyed anything."

As long as nothing was broken beyond repair, there was still a chance.

That was the truth I believed in.

"Because I stopped you."

I had stopped her sins.

I had prevented the tragedy.

The crushing guilt, the self-loathing, the inevitable suicide that would have weighed down on her shoulders—none of it mattered anymore.

Because, as I had said before, I had wanted to save her.

"So it's alright."

"But... Yuda, you got hurt. You were in a wheelchair. You looked so unwell..."

Her fingers trembled against my sleeve.

Was she remembering that moment?

I recalled the way she had looked at me then.

How troubled she had been when she saw me confined to that chair.

It must have been unbearable for her to ignore.

"Perhaps your sins are heavy."

"······."

"But."

I was grateful to her.

For choosing a different path.

My previous life had been full of despair and sorrow.

I had never changed, all the way to the end.

But through her choice, I had seen a new possibility.

Perhaps, in that past life—

"We share a special bond, don’t we?"

—Perhaps I could have changed too, if someone had reached out to me.

That possibility alone had granted me a sliver of salvation.

So I made a promise.

"When the time comes for you to take responsibility... I will always be by your side."

That is what it means to be tamed.

Just as I had tamed her, she had tamed me in return.

We owed it to each other to be responsible.

If people existed only as individuals, what meaning would relationships hold?

Humans seek harmony through conflict.

Love through hatred.

Forgiveness through mistakes.

And as long as we never give up, second chances will always come.

"Selena Drunkard."

What you needed was never death.

It was forgiveness.

And I—

"I forgive you."

I no longer resented her.

I let my words carry my full sincerity.

—"Everything. Without exception."

—"All of my firsts belonged to you, Yuda."

This time, I was her first.

The first person to forgive her.

She would have to live through many moments of atonement, of apology, of redemption.

But because of that, this forgiveness held meaning.

It would be her hope.

A hope that, one day, she could be forgiven for all of her sins.

"So, Professor."

I had chosen—

To be her first source of hope.

"Let’s go home. To the place where we are all waiting for you."

"······."

Her red eyes, dazed and unblinking.

Tears welled up and spilled over.

Thick lines streaked down her cheeks.

Relief, joy, disbelief, hope, sorrow—an overwhelming tide of emotion.

And then, in a breaking voice, she asked.

"Why... Why are you being so kind to me...?"

Why?

Why was I treating her with such warmth?

I answered without hesitation.

"Because I am your student."

And with that, her sobs finally broke free.

The drunkard buried her face into my chest.

Her tears slowly soaked through my shirt.

Holding her trembling form close, I walked down the dark hallway.

The shadows pressed in from all sides, but my vision remained perfectly clear.

If anything, it felt bright.

And so.

For the first time, light shone upon the life of the traitor, the drunkard.

Perhaps, a light she would hold onto forever.