Chapter 313: We go back to compound the torment of repeating the same mistakes

Chapter 313: We go back to compound the torment of repeating the same mistakes

“Do I know?”

Ashe scratched his head and asked, “If I choose ‘I don’t know,’ does that count as a correct answer?”

“Of course it counts,” the Observer laughed. “Who said ‘I don’t know’ can’t be an answer?”

Before you appeared, ‘I don’t know’ certainly wasn’t considered an answer.

But since your arrival, even if a feature like “eliminate one wrong answer” appeared in the cabin, I wouldn’t be surprised.

The Empress muttered under her breath, thinking how could she possibly get along with this unclear internal threat, how could a memory quiz go well?

Once Ashe heard that “I don’t know” could be officially accepted, he felt relieved, thinking there was no other clue to pick but ‘I don’t know.’

It was quite justifiable, after all, he genuinely didn’t know.

However, compared to the mundane ‘I don’t know,’ the other two extraordinary options were like a calf flying to the sky. Ashe felt like his past self could have obliterated the great path.

The first option: become a pawn, sacrifice the world!

The second option: collect wishes, overturn the world!

The former was a path of chaos and evil, the latter a path of order and goodness. Regardless of the choice, both implied Ashe had meddled with the vulnerable world, making one lament the world’s misfortunes.

Even Danzel stopped paying attention to Deya, shocked by the information revealed by Ashe’s question, “Knight... have you... been reborn?”

“Asking me is useless, I’ve lost my memory,” Ashe shrugged. “If memory loss counts as rebirth, am I on my third life now?”

Sonya silently moved next to Ashe, tightly grasping his arm, and said in a sweet tone, “Dear Knight—”

Ashe shuddered with goosebumps, “Back off, what are you doing!”

“Aren’t we lovers?” Sonya tilted her head coquettishly, “We’ve lost our memory, we need to rekindle our affection, right~”

“Didn’t you just say we should break up?”

“That’s just a little flirtation between lovers, how can life be lively without some quibbling?”

“Didn’t you say I cheated?”

“This means these options cannot be judged based on the information we have; we must guess based on my personality.”

“Isn’t that simple?” Sonya asked, “Do you see yourself more as a Destroyer or a Savior?”

Her question turned all eyes in the cabin—including Danzel, the Swordswoman, and the Witch—toward Ashe. In that moment, he became the center of attention, as if his answer would tip the scales in everyone’s minds.

Oblivious, Ashe looked down in contemplation, then clapped his hands loudly.

With the clap, the dust settled.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Sonya was taken aback, “But isn’t it easy to guess? Just see whether you’re more inclined to save people or to kill them.”

“What about you?” Ashe countered, “If it were you, do you see yourself as a Savior who would spend a thousand years for a glimmer of hope, or as a Destroyer willing to sacrifice millions of lives?”

“It’s not me being asked—”

“According to your logic, if you lean towards good, then you’re a Savior; if you lean towards evil, then you’re a Destroyer, isn’t that easy to guess?”

Using my own words against me... Sonya wanted to retort strongly, but the words choked in her throat, as if whatever she was about to say could become a time bomb that would ensnare her.

A thousand years... Although she didn’t know how long she had lived, a millennium certainly sounded like a long time.

Millions of lives... Even though she didn’t know if she had ever killed anyone, the number “millions” was undeniably frightening.

Seeing Sonya’s hesitation, Ashe turned to Danzel and asked, “What about you?”

“Destroyer,” Danzel answered without hesitation. “I don’t like wasting time.”

“You see,” Ashe spread his hands, “personality dictates memory, and memory affects personality. If I truly had done either of these things, then I would possess the character to make such decisions. Whether it’s a thousand years or bearing the sins of millions of lives, these would be deeply engraved in my soul, warping my cognition and shaping my thoughts.”

“More importantly,” Ashe looked towards the Observer, “I am well aware that even if I regain my memories, I might not possess the resolve to make such decisions.”

“I don’t smell the stench of mountains of corpses and seas of blood on myself, nor the rich aroma from enduring great hardships.”

The Witch interjected, “Swordswoman, can you smell it? We can’t smell anything—”

“I can,” the Swordswoman replied coldly, glancing at the Witch and then at the back of the Observer. “But I can’t tell whose scent it is.”