The Returnee Wants Peace

‘…I suppose that’s how it must be.’

Despite being in his mid-twenties, his youthful features belied his age. Neither overly tall nor short, with a slender, unassuming physique reminiscent of countless passersby.

But the power contained within that unassuming exterior transcended mere mortal bounds, stemming neither from abilities nor magic, but swordplay alone.

“That just now…”

Froy murmured gravely, his expression solemn.

A power no human should possess.

Outward appearances aside, that individual could only be considered inhuman.

In the world Froy hailed from, they had barely surmounted the third trial’s challenges. For such an entity to reveal itself amid that precarious juncture would undoubtedly sow catastrophic upheaval.

‘Yet Rosha alone suffices as an anomaly…’

However, according to Rosha, this man was an old comrade of hers.

‘She had mentioned four comrades from her previous world. Are they all like this?’

Froy stole a sidelong glance at Rosha.

“…I worried needlessly. Of course he wouldn’t die so easily.”

Her murmured words exuded an almost euphoric relief as she gazed unblinkingly at the man.

Her reddened eyes brimming with unshed tears even as her lips curved into a joyful smile.

“…”

For some inexplicable reason, the sight displeased him.

Fwoosh!

Another blinding flash erupted, bathing the surroundings in brilliant luminescence.

Having horizontally bisected every monster that had infiltrated the circular theater, the radiance obediently converged back into the man’s sword sheath.

“How much longer did you intend to gawk?”

“Ah.”

Startled by Froy’s voice, Rosha finally regained her composure.

As Hajin’s teammates gradually converged, she firmly depressed the topmost red button on the control panel.

Even without [The Guiding Lantern] ability, she understood this button’s function:

The play ‘The Perishing City’ will be forcibly terminated.

The background dissipated into a monochrome haze, like drifting snowflakes.

The fallen monsters, the raging thunderstorm, the unsettling ambiance induced by the ‘Horror’ setting – all vanished as if they had never existed.

With the play’s conclusion, only those unaffiliated with its construct remained on the stage.

“That…”

Even before the backdrop had fully faded, Yura had already darted forth, prompting Rosha’s lips to part wordlessly.

Though their separation hadn’t spanned an excessively long duration, perhaps three or four months at most, certainly no longer than half a year.

Yet witnessing Hajin as the team’s leader made the passage of time’s divergence undeniable.

‘…Just how much time has passed? He appears almost the same as I remember…’

At a loss for where to even begin, having parted without any semblance of farewell, Rosha found herself rendered utterly speechless despite a multitude of sentiments vying for expression.

As she wavered indecisively, Hajin approached her in long strides before embracing her without preamble.

“Sis, I’ve missed you so much.”

“…Yeah.”

Pressing her forehead against his shoulder, her tumultuous doubts seemed to dissipate like mist.

Witnessing this reunion, Froy’s brow furrowed ever so slightly, accompanied by Koko’s suppressed snickering from beside them.

* * *

Reunited with an old comrade from a realm separate from her world and her previous one – there were boundless questions to ask, innumerable words left unspoken.

But they were still amid a trial.

“Who’s this guy?”

As the backdrop dispersed, Cassis strode over from the stage’s periphery, his tone brusque.

The rest of the group, having witnessed this unfamiliar man’s embrace of Rosha, regarded him with guarded wariness.

However, after appraising both Cassis and Rosha, Hajin unexpectedly extended his hand in greeting.

“Ah, I’ve heard so much about you from Sis. You must be Cassis, a bit prickly in temperament, from what I’ve been told–”

“Silence.”

Rosha swiftly clamped her hand over Hajin’s mouth, prompted by Cassis’ twitching brow, a sign she needed to swiftly change the subject.

“But weren’t there usually spectators filling the audience seats?”

“…Don’t know. They just vanished like smoke.”

True to his words, the circular theater stood utterly vacant.

What was this unsettling premonition enveloping her heart?

“Speaking of which, I was about to ask if you’d done something on your end, Rosha. The air feels oddly stifling.”

“…Does it?”

“Like something momentous is about to unfold at any moment.”

Cassis’ uncanny intuition regarding impending crises wasn’t to be taken lightly.

…The time limit.

‘Just how much time remains?’

Prompted by this realization, Rosha swiftly summoned a blue window:

Proceed to the central circular theater and eliminate the demonic beasts.

Time Remaining: 20 hours 12 minutes

*Due to Hardmode, quest failure will result in total party death.

Not too much or too little time. However, woefully insufficient to conclude matters before the third play slated for the following night.

‘It seems we made the right choice in exploring alternative paths.’

Yet at that very moment:

Click.

Time Remaining: 20 hours 10 minutes

And once more:

Time Remaining: 20 hours 8 minutes

Huh?

“The time… it’s behaving strangely. Too swiftly.”

With each blink, the numbers dwindled further.

Having overheard Rosha’s murmur, Hajin summoned the blue window to confirm for himself, his expression hardening as the countdown plummeted to 20 hours 2 minutes within that brief interval.

Their stunned silence was shattered by an abrupt notification:

Having detected a threat, the ‘Playwright’ is rapidly accelerating the city’s temporal flow.

“…Oh no.”

They had momentarily overlooked the Playwright’s existence.

There was no time for regrets. Finding a solution was imperative if they wished to avoid death.

“What should we do?”

“Lady Roshanak, what should we do in such situations? I’ll follow your instructions.”

Alarmed by the notification, the group converged around Rosha.

With the play now concluded and the circular theater vacant, devoid of any lifeforms besides their presence, as confirmed by Froy, only one recourse seemed viable.

“We demolish the theater.”

“Yes, the theater itself must be destroyed.”

Rosha and Froy’s assessments aligned seamlessly.

The entire circular theater potentially constituted the monster itself. Even if not, razing it was likely their best chance of locating the ‘Playwright’ purported to reside within.

Overhearing their exchange, Hajin interjected, proffering a square-shaped object.

“Sounds like a solid plan. Luckily, I happen to have ten of these.”

Customized mana bombs – a limited-stock secret shop item.

From that point onward, their actions unfolded with unrelenting urgency:

“Hurry, hurry! Mind the spacing precisely!”

“This side is all set!”

Everyone barring the magicians participated in strategically planting the explosives.

“Phew, as a battle magician, I lack proficiency with offensive fire magic… but perhaps I can still help?”

“Any help is welcome. The more magicians, the better.”

Given the theater’s sheer enormity, the magicians’ role would be amplifying the bombs’ destructive potential.

Rosha cast a fleeting glance towards the midday sky.

Just ten minutes prior, it had undoubtedly been night. Yet time now raced by at an alarming pace, nearly two minutes elapsing per second, with the remaining duration already dwindling below five hours.

‘Roughly one hour per thirty seconds. A rough estimate leaves us with about two and a half minutes. Cutting it extremely close.’

In other words, she would need to part ways with Hajin within the next two and a half minutes at most.

“…”

Presumably noting her troubled thoughts, Froy, who had assumed a protective stance beside the magicians, murmured:

“Are you very disappointed?”

“…To say otherwise would be a lie. However, I’ve already made my choice.”

She had chosen to return to her original world over the two realms.

This was merely the consequence of her own decision, to be accepted and endured.

‘So… it’s alright.’

It would be alright. It had to be.

Should she not rejoice at the opportunity to reunite, however fleetingly, with one she had resigned herself to never seeing again?

Upon hearing her response, Froy softly marveled:

“Rosha, you are… an even stronger person than I had presumed.”

“…”

“But it’s okay not to be so perfect all the time.”

“What?”

She had been about to question his meaning when the telltale sting of tears pricked her eyes, unconsciously comprehending the unspoken implication.

While her mind understood the necessity of parting ways, a lingering sense of regret still persisted.

However, she bore responsibilities to those who depended upon her.

‘If I falter… it will only breed further unease for them all.’

So she had striven to maintain a composed front. But her reluctance had evidently not escaped Froy’s perceptive gaze.

Swiping at her eyes, Rosha noticed Hajin approaching, his expression mirroring her own conflicted emotions.

“The bombs are all set, Sis. I’ve also applied amplification spell formations to each one.”

“…I see.”

With scarcely thirty seconds remaining at most.

Finally, the time had come to detonate the theater.

Confirming everyone had retreated to a safe distance, Rosha swiftly glanced towards the rapidly setting sun before raising her hand to commence the countdown:

Three.

Two.

One.

Bababababang!!