Chapter 7: The Power of Future Foresight

The boy's night stretched endlessly.

He'd expected the hour hand to race by as usual, like starlight streaking across the sky. Another ordinary morning would greet him as he endured the process of growing up.

But though the moon waned, night refused to yield.

The world was shrouded in darkness.

Even imagining the future, the path ahead was murky.

Squeezing his eyes shut to escape reality invited more blackness. It was the same when, in a drowsy haze, he found himself stuffed like cargo into a large sack.

His will to rebel against the world was crumbling.

Here, he learned that nursing resentment after being tossed around only multiplied his wounds.

Glaring earned him a beating and forced a servile smile. After all, it increased his value as merchandise and pleased his would-be masters.

Outside his pitch-black cell, they talked:

He'd fetch a high price for resembling the fallen royals.

That's why they'd snatched him up on sight.

Sharp eyes indeed.

Little did they know he wasn't just similar - he was the real deal.

From prince to vagrant. From vagrant to slave.

The fall from such heights left him aching. He almost wished their words were true - that he merely looked like royalty by chance. It might hurt less.

Night would persist.

No matter how much time passed, darkness would reign.

In this pit, there wouldn't even be a spider's web to cling to.

Just as he resigned himself to this fate...

"...So I merely sent down the sword."

The night began to fade.

Brilliant golden light drove away the darkness, flooding the world with radiance. Miraculous power manifested in the very next instant.

Flash!

His vision went white.

Dazzling light blinded him, then the heavens split open.

All the boy saw was a young man raising a gleaming sword skyward. Yet that simple act made the ceiling vanish without a trace as starlight poured down.

Faced with this impossible scene, the crowd scurried about like ants.

"In the name of the Lord God and Holy Spirit, chains of light."

Once more, divine radiance flashed. An otherworldly light straight from legend.

Clank, clank!

In an instant, the captives were subdued.

Particles of light coalesced, shackling the escapees' ankles like criminals. Some tried futilely to break the bonds with blades or clubs, but their efforts were in vain.

Until now, the boy had believed these people to be the world's absolute rulers.

The thought of seeing them chained like slaves or restrained like beasts had seemed unthinkable.

They were godlike beings who had trapped him in this endless night... or so he'd believed.

"Seize them!"

"How dare they hold such a vile auction in the Count's domain!"

"Every last one of them... what?"

The Count's soldiers stormed in next. But their bold entrance quickly turned to bewildered eye-rubbing.

"What in the world..."

Though witnessing an impossible scene, they carried out their duties. They arrested all involved in the auction, forcibly dragging away those who resisted.

As the soldiers firmly restrained each criminal, the golden chains dissolved into motes of light.

Thud. Thud.

From the chaotic auction hall's center, he approached.

A man with snow-white hair and violet eyes. A young man in clothes neither flashy nor shabby. At a glance, he seemed utterly ordinary, having dismissed his sword of light.

He grasped the iron bars, effortlessly bending them with brute strength. Finally reaching their limit, the bars tore away.

Crack!

Wordlessly, he caressed the battered boy.

"...Huh?"

A miracle occurred.

Festering wounds healed instantly. Dried blood melted away, leaving his face clean. Even his fractured shinbone no longer pained him.

"You held out well. How do you feel?"

The young man asked after his wellbeing. But the boy's response differed entirely from the young man's expectations.

"Are you... an angel?"

"No, I'm an orphanage director."

"What?"

The boy gaped at the utterly unexpected answer.

The concept of an orphanage director was surprising enough, but the young man casually continued:

"Oh, there are angels. One's a pain in the neck, but the other's absolutely adorable."

"Ah... I see..."

"But the fun one to mess with is still that guy. It's a good balance in many ways. Though with just the two of them, they tend to get bored."

"R-right..."

"So it'd be nice if they had another friend or two."

"..."

The boy couldn't fathom why he was being told this. As his confusion mounted, the young man who had gifted him this miraculous night extended his hand.

"Want to come with me?"

"Me...?"

"Who else? Seems you've got nowhere else to go. You could be friends with our kids - they're about your age."

Who was this person?

Was he truly human, not an angel?

But to work such miracles... to speak such miraculous words...

Was he really... human?

"Stay a day and decide. If you don't like it, we'll part ways then."

He held out his hand. And the boy took it.

Warmth radiated from that large hand. The warmth of salvation he'd likely never forget.

"...I'll go."

After slipping through the bars, the boy clung close behind his savior.

Having been transported in a large sack, he had no idea what this place looked like. He never dreamed he'd walk out on his own two feet, so it still felt surreal.

When they finally exited the mansion and gazed up at the vast night sky, the boy at last shed tears.

Right before the mansion's entrance, Court Count Arwel and his soldiers stood at attention in formation.

In the silence broken only by insects, he spoke:

"Will anyone here speak of tonight's events?"

As if rehearsed, a thunderous reply rang out in unison.

"Absolutely not!"

"Ah."

A light acknowledgment. Followed by a dismissive wave of the hand.

"That'll do."

He grinned.

As if a promise that could be broken at any time would somehow last forever.

The moon waned.

Far off, the skyline over the mountains began to tinge indigo, heralding dawn.

Thus ended the long night.

"Hungry?"

A nod.

Too ashamed to speak, he swallowed his words.

The young man paid no mind and continued:

"I'll make you a late-night snack. Though it's not quite midnight, a snack at this hour just hits differently."

And so the incomprehensible night began to retreat.

---

---

"I'm screwed...!"

I sighed heavily while preparing chicken fried rice as a midnight snack.

"I'll be found out, right? Definitely? Why'd I have to lose my temper..."

No, that's not it. Even if I could go back, I'm not sure I'd act any differently. How could I not rage at such an inhuman spectacle?

Despite everything, I've lived in the temple for over a decade. Regardless of regaining my past life's memories, the temple's teachings and ideologies haven't left me.

For instance, I'm frankly more used to monarchy than democracy. Modern concepts are merely memories from my past life.

In the end, I was still the holy knight I once was.

"Even if the Count's people keep quiet... the prisoners will definitely talk..."

I knew. I knew, yet I let it slide with a verbal promise.

Because it was in front of the kid.

I wanted to look cool...!!! At my age, I'm still full of vanity...!!! Above all, image is crucial!!!

"Haaa... I feel like I've been given a death sentence."

Will I be dragged to the temple? Or treated as a real criminal and sentenced to hard labor?

I went a bit overboard.

Never mind the chains, I blew a hole in the mansion's ceiling. Talk about desperate for attention. But I figured that much was needed for the Count's soldiers to take the hint and raid the place.

'Ugh... I don't know anymore. Seriously.'

...

......

Just then, the kitchen door swung open and the now cleaned-up boy entered.

"Um... is there anything I can help with?"

"Nope, nope. Just grow up to be a good kid."

"Okay..."

He answered obediently, but I still didn't know what to make of him.

Because... well, this kid is a villain.

Glen Baskhill.

This is the name of the last royal from a fallen nation, and the puppet manipulated by the original villainess.

He often rivaled Yulian in ability, facing off against him frequently. He also cornered Tina politically by exposing her true identity.

There was a backstory about him being a former slave... but it seems I've shattered that setting today.

This much was pure coincidence.

'No, meeting Tina at this time was also coincidence, and even taking charge of Yulian was chance...'

I decided to take in three kids at the orphanage, and they just happened to be these three.

It's so contrived, it's as if God arranged this fate.

Just as I was sinking into worry and contemplation...

Creeeak...

The kitchen door that shouldn't have opened did so.

The intruders greeting morning far too early were quite small.

"Welcome back, Director. We came down because we smelled something delicious."

"Ah...! It's true. Just as Yulian said, you returned after one night. Hehe..."

"Yeesh... uninvited guests. Now I have to make two more portions." Searᴄh the nôᴠel Fire.nёt website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Can't be helped. I am the orphanage director, after all.

"You three introduce yourselves. Know that if you exclude him, you won't even get porridge to eat."

"Three?"

"Oh... Yulian, over here."

Tina gestured with her eyes, and Yulian looked towards the corner of the table.

Glen had frozen like a statue, mouth full of fried rice.

And so the main characters of the same generation gathered in one place.

For now, they were just kids eagerly awaiting a late-night snack. No one could predict what direction this momentous occasion would steer their fates.

'At this rate, will the villainess show up soon too?'

I'm really overreacting.

There's no way that would happen.

It's not like I can see the future, so what would she even be aiming for by coming here?

"Hahaha..."

Amused by my foolish assumptions, I let out a hollow laugh.