Chapter 1

I lived as a slave all my life.

When my master died, his son — the new Family Head — set me free. He said if I went north, I'd finally see the aurora I'd always dreamed of.

Those pitch-black years were supposed to turn white. A fresh start.

But that was eight years ago. The day I finally gathered my freedom and pointed myself north — that was the day the war began.

"The Company Commander has to be insane."

"Yeah. They don't call him Mad Dog for nothing."

"I'm not joking..."

Two soldiers in indigo uniforms were muttering behind me.

"What sane person would come up with a plan like this?"

"You're a recruit. How would you know what goes on in the Captain's head? Hell, even I don't."

I turned my head toward them.

"A dog hears pretty well, you know."

"S-sorry, sir!"

Both men ducked their heads at once.

The recruit was the first to look up.

"I'm sorry, but... Company Commander."

His voice suddenly climbed.

"Sir, this operation...! It goes against every convention, every shred of ethics — I don't understand it!"

I let out a short sigh.

"Recruit."

"Jin Rodmain, sir!"

"Right, Jin-something. There are thousands of goblins climbing this slope. We're not even a tenth of that number. Those bastards have wide feet for their short height — they can grip slick, steep ground way better than we can. I've explained this before: we're outnumbered and out-bodied here."

I paused to draw a breath.

"My job isn't to teach you ethics. It's to complete the mission successfully."

The moment I finished speaking, a horn sounded.

A wave of goblin war cries followed the horn blast.

The green horde began scaling the hill.

It was only a matter of time before they reached the Imperial Army waiting in the trenches.

"Fire!"

The moment I gave the signal, my men pulled their triggers.

Black smoke and gunfire spread wide.

The goblins that had been scrambling up the slope collapsed in heaps.

But the ones in the rear ranks kept pushing forward.

It was like a tug-of-war — a stalemate.

The distance between the goblins and the Imperial line didn't close.

Not yet. Not until the muskets showed their limits.

"Sir! We're running out of time...!"

"At this rate, we won't even get a chance to reload..."

So I raised my right hand high.

The standby signal.

The next signal would be a clenched fist.

Tension crawled up the faces of my soldiers.

When the goblins were almost at the defensive line —

"Throw."

I tightened my fist.

The soldiers lifted the corpses that had been waiting in the trench.

"Throw them!"

The bodies tumbled down the slope.

Our comrades in indigo uniforms.

The shattered bodies bounced and twisted horribly as they struck the slope.

"Throw them all! Let our fallen brothers fight one last time!"

Goblins hit by the corpses tumbled down the hill — crushed, flattened.

The delay gave the soldiers just enough time to ram fresh cartridges into their muskets.

"I'm sorry..."

The recruit, Jin, lifted a body with tear-filled eyes.

"I'm so sorry..."

The Captain watched the muttering soldier blankly. No one here was without feeling.

"Shut up, Recruit."

Eight years of war had made him this way.

---

"Hey, Recruit."

"Jin Rodmain!"

Jin snapped a sharp salute.

"I heard you screamed at the Captain."

"I-I didn't scream."

"Whatever you say. Watch yourself — Captains get disappointed pretty easily."

"I'm sorry."

"Save the apologies for him. Go see him."

"Me? Go myself?"

"No, should I go for you?"

"...No, sir. Sorry."

The senior soldier clicked his tongue.

"That corpse I threw was my hometown buddy. We enlisted together. I can never face his family."

"Worry about that after you survive. Be honest — you think the Captain's crazy, don't you?"

Jin pressed his lips shut.

Silence was as good as a yes.

"Think about it. You got stuck with a man like that. Think he'd hesitate to throw you in alive?"

Jin slowly nodded.

"Yes, sir. I understand..."

He saluted again and went to find the Company Commander.

He stood outside the door, about to knock.

A crash.

Something slammed hard against the inside. The doorframe shook.

"What the hell is he doing in there...?"

The noise repeated at steady intervals.

"Ah, screw it... Maybe I should just leave. Don't want to poke the bear..."

"Who's there?"

The Captain's voice slipped through the door.

"J-Jin Rodmain, sir!"

"Ah, Jin-something. Come in."

Jin took a deep breath and opened the door.

The moment he stepped inside, a flash of light stabbed into his eyes.

He crossed his arms to shield his vision.

After a moment, he lowered his hands. The Captain's office came into focus.

It was glowing — impossibly, without a single lamp.

"What did you come for?"

The Captain's question barely registered.

Silver filled every wall. Dog tags, packed tight without a gap, gleamed like unpolished ore.

Jin could only stare in shock.

"I asked what you came for."

"Doesn't it... hurt your eyes?"

"Hurt? To me, it just looks black."

I scratched my white hair and answered flatly. My emerald eyes had lost their luster—a mismatch, like realizing a gem you were sure was precious was just a worthless pebble.

I held a hammer in my right hand.

"Were you hammering dog tags into the wall, sir?"

I only nodded.

"May I ask why?"

"Just a hobby."

"A hobby... you say."

"I asked you twice what you came for."

"S-sorry! And about that day—I'm truly sorry!"

Jin bowed deeply.

"That day?"

"The hill battle. I wanted to apologize sincerely."

"Hmm. Was that all?"

"Yes, sir."

"Fine. Get out."

"Yes... understood."

Jin saluted and turned. He grabbed the doorknob, then stopped and twisted back.

"Actually, sir. Company Commander."

He swept his gaze across the tags pinned to the wall.

"I acted like I didn't know, but—this place. The Silver Tomb. I knew about it. No one in the 63rd Company wouldn't. I know it's not just a hobby. Who makes a tomb out of dog tags for fun? Only a madman would."

"You called me mad before. Now you don't think so?"

"Are all of these... your regrets, sir?"

The moment he asked—

A sound like a storm cloud rolling in.

A weight crushing my whole body.

"Recruit."

I didn't need to look. I knew that sound. Cannonball.

"Get down."

---

The bodies lay scattered like fish hauled in a net. The ground split. Buildings collapsed.

I was buried under the shattered remains of my office.

The Silver Tomb I'd spent eight years building.

I had dug my own grave.

My past was crushing me.

"Company Commander...!"

Jin was bracing the rubble with his back.

He wouldn't last long.

A large wooden shard had pierced through his back and jutted out of his abdomen. Blood dripped from the tip, ran down the recruit's cheek.

"Sir, why did you..."

"Those over there... they were my training squad."

I shifted my gaze to the shattered wall.

"I never had a family, so my squad was the first I ever had. Not by blood, but we bled together."

Especially the first one who died beside me.

I saw his blue eyes again.

"He was a talented mage. Had Clairvoyance Magic. But he lost his sight, tragically. Died from the wound back at the training camp."

I forced down the blood rising in my throat and kept going.

"Next to him was a son of a noble house with a unique magic. Died before he ever learned to use it properly."

"Sir, you shouldn't be talking anymore!"

"Next to him—a magic swordsman who traded blood for spells. A genius creator who ran an equipment shop since he was sixteen. A hunter who knew herbs so well we could trust him with any wound. If they'd lived, they might have seen the end of this war. My squad was the strongest cavalry unit ever. Except for me."

I looked down at the wooden shard piercing through my own abdomen.

A splinter of wood, sharp as a blade.

"Recruit, I have a fear of pointed things. I can't look at sharp ends. Even a pen tip is too much for me. Swords and spears are worse. And back when I was a trainee, we didn't use muskets, so there was no way to keep my distance."

The spine and edge of a blade.

Two lines meeting at a single point.

That point felt like it was stabbing into my eyes, gouging them out.

Sometimes even a graze felt like it would shatter my bones.

Just the end of something—but for me, it was the beginning of terror.

"Back then, I was only half a soldier."

"But... sir, you can fight with your eyes closed now, can't you?"

"That's how it looks to you, Recruit. Two weeks before you joined the 63rd Company—that's when I finally learned to fight that way."

"Finally..."

Jin tasted the word.

"Yes. You asked if I had regrets."

He nodded slowly.

"My head is full of nothing but regret. If I'd learned to fight properly just a little earlier, I wouldn't have built a damn tomb like this. I would've held a sword, not a hammer... I would've fought beside them before they died."

"Company Commander..."

"Let me ask you one favor, Jin Rodmain."

"You... remembered my surname?"

Instead of answering, I looked around at the broken walls.

"Survive to the end. Survive, and remember me—the one who remembers all of them. You be the one to remember."

"No, sir! You can still get up, Commander...!"

"My name is Mago. No surname."

"Commander!"

"It's only two syllables. You won't forget that, surely."

I closed my eyes slowly.

"No. You don't have to remember my name. But just one thing... please remember that I really... I really tried..."

To those who went ahead and waited for me.

To all of you—I'm coming back now.

---

White curtains shot into the air.

They fluttered on the wind like they had wings.

Free wings.

The curtains sailed over the stone wall.

What am I looking at?

More than that—how.

How am I seeing this?

"Mago."

I could even hear it.

Then a horse's whinny filled my ears.

"Mago! Don't just stand there—help me!"

Curtains, clothes.

White fabrics flying everywhere—all because of a sudden gale.

It even shattered the old stable door.

A brown horse tried to escape.

The horse my master loved like his own child.

It shoved past a servant blocking the entrance and ran wild.

"The gate! Close the gate!"

Two servants by the mansion gate hurried to shut it.

The gray iron door began to close with a chilling groan.

"Mago! Hurry!"

I'm going to lose it.

I pushed off the ground reflexively.

By the time the horse reached the mansion entrance, the gate was firmly shut.

I grabbed the reins of the brown horse as it stumbled, lost and confused.

The servants breathed sighs of relief.

"Mago... did that kid just... catch up to a horse, even if only for a moment?"

My left hand held the reins. With my right, I wrapped my arms around the horse.

Careful not to get kicked, I flipped the horse onto its back and lifted it.

I hoisted the struggling animal onto my shoulder and headed for the stable.

"Good lord... we knew he was strong, but..."

"Mago! Hold it steady!"

One of the servants hurried over with a rope—a noose already tied.

I slipped the loop around the horse's neck.

Then I quickly tied the other end to a stable post.

"There... it's done."

The servant let go, hands trembling slightly.

Whispers crept into my ears.

"That's not just 'a little strong'..."

"What was the master thinking, keeping Mago around? Even if he's a slave, if a guy like that gets any ideas..."

"Don't worry."

I already knew what came next.

"Mago can't hold weapons."

"Can't? With strength like that?"

Point phobia.

That was my sickness, my obstacle, my regret.

But not being able to do anything because of it—that was in the past.

Just like everything my eyes and ears were taking in now—it belonged to yesterday.

I checked my surroundings slowly.

Every servant was dressed in black.

The sudden gale that had blown through earlier.

The horse's escape.

"It's exactly like the day of the master's funeral."

The day I gained my freedom.

The day I gained it and lost everything at the same time—I could see it now.

I clenched and unclenched my fist.

The horse's smooth hide. The brush of its fur against my fingers.

Even the heavy ache in my shoulder from carrying it.

I felt all of it.

"This can't be a dream..."

I glanced into the mansion's lobby.

Mourners in black wept as they looked down at the coffin.

The master had been a vicious man. If there was a hell, he was surely headed there.

And since they were sending someone to hell, this place couldn't be hell either.

"What a sudden wind... what a mess."

Just then, the dead master's eldest son—the Prince, now the Family Head—approached.

My freedom didn't come with the master's death.

The next master was the man in front of me.

And this Prince, before he went to Magic University, had been notorious as a brute.

"Mago, I was looking for you. I have a gift to give you."

I raised my head and met his eyes.

I locked onto those shimmering blue eyes again.

They matched the top-left corner of the northern wall in the Company Commander's office.

The first dog tag.

The mage who took an arrow to the eye and lost his Clairvoyance Magic.

"A chance to not regret."

This is not a dream. This is not hell.

Eliminating possibilities one by one, I arrived at one conclusion.

This is the past.

I am reliving the past.