Chapter 203: Responsibility

  “Prota,” Anta said under her breath. “To be honest… I don’t know about this one.”

  “...really?”

  Prota was genuinely surprised. Anta had displayed such strength and prowess. Additionally, they both knew Jinae’s ultimate skill: the ability to cast counter-spells. Anta, however, had an incredibly melee-focused style, meaning spells weren’t really relevant here.

  “Do you think that woman got to where she is because she could be taken out by a fighter?” Anta scoffed. “No. We never saw her going all out. Not once. We saw her try, yes, but that’s different than fighting with everything on the line.”

  Even though the body wasn’t under her control, Prota felt a shiver of fear run down her spine.

  Right. This was a being on par with Mystics. Beings she had yet to properly fight. And in her current state, she didn’t even know if she could take on people like Albert or high-level cultists.

  This…

  “Then, I’ll begin.”

  Jinae raised her staff, a fireball forming on the end. Chantless casting.

  The second of what could be considered Prota’s skills.

  “You’re insane,” Anta grumbled, immediately beginning to move.

  She was tired. Prota could tell. They might not feel pain, but the body was beginning to slow down, lagging just a bit behind Anta’s intentions. It was only the repeated stacks of mana recovery and mana reinforcement that were keeping this body moving at all.

  Neither girl would admit it, but the fight with those cultists had taken a toll on them. A mere six cultists.

  How pathetic.

  “Seriously. Fighting in a physical body is so much worse than fighting as a spirit,” Anta grumbled, dodging yet another fireball.

  “...what are you saying? Those are some interesting words you’re muttering there,” Jinae said.

  Interestingly enough, she was taking it easy. Incredibly easy. It was surprising and expected at the same time.

  Expected, because Prota and Anta were still in the body of a child. Unless that child was possessed by a demon and shrieking that it would rip your heart out, most people would find it hard to do their best to kill a young living being.

  Surprising because, on the other hand, there were numerous dead bodies surrounding Anta, and some of their blood was on her. Did Jinae really have the leisure to go easy here?

  “Why? Are you curious?” Anta grinned, but she was panting.

  “You don’t have much energy to spare. Surrender,” Jinae frowned.

  “Surrender? And what? You’re the leader of these cultists, aren’t you? How do I know you’re not just going to kill me?”

  “You know-”

  “I know who you are,” Anta growled. “But that doesn’t change the facts.”

  Suddenly, she lashed out with Soul Steal, trying to strike at Jinae’s mana core. It wouldn’t do much, but it might throw her off guard, and that might just be enough.

  It worked. Jinae gasped, her eyes widening in surprise.

  “Now,” Anta gasped, dashing forward.

  Only, it was a shame it wasn’t enough.

  “You… you’re the child,” Jinae gasped. “You’re…”

  She had barely moved and was restraining Anta with ease. Chains of ice had shot out, binding the little girl and restraining her movement.

  “Prota!” Anta yelled.

  Prota understood the message and immediately swapped in, summoning three icicles. That immediately drained her core, but that was fine. They fired, honing in on Jinae’s head with precision.

  “...no wonder,” Jinae muttered, shaking her head.

  She didn’t seem concerned about the attack in the slightest.

  With a simple flick of the hand, she merely blew away the icicles, the sound of ice shattering ringing out as they hit the floor.

  Prota’s hair turned red again as Anta switched back in, a passive face switching to one of a fierce rage.

  “What do you want with us?” she yelled, struggling to break free.

  “...us?”

  “Me! Whatever! Let go!” Anta yelled, but with the state of their body, it sounded more like a child throwing a tantrum.

  “You’re… you’re the one Henry mentioned,” Jinae said in a soft tone. “The weapon.”

  At that, Anta flinched.

  Right. The village chief was part of Jinae’s organization. It would follow that he’d sent out a report of Prota’s existence.

  Prota was confused, though. In their previous life, Jinae hadn’t mentioned Prota’s existence. Why not? Why bring it up now?

  “...John,” she muttered quietly.

  That had to be it. She didn’t see the connection, but that was the only change that had been made in this world.

  “And where is the chief?” Anta continued, ignoring Prota’s thoughts.

  “He’s safe. Gone. It… it seems you are aware of your existence and its purpose. Is that why you came to find me? Did Henry tell you to come to me?”

  Anta just glared.

  “Child. I understand you are upset, but… please. I truly mean to help.”

  “Anta-” Prota started, but her soul cut her off.

  “What about those children in the basement? The kidnappings? The state of the town? Are you really just letting all this happen?”

  “...ah,” Jinae nodded. “I… I understand. Then, let me show you something.”

  Still not letting go of Anta, she hobbled down the stairs, once again acting like her appearance. They walked through the dimly lit corridors, past the cell doors, all of which remained closed.

  “Here,” Jinae said, opening one.

  Inside was a brightly lit room with padded carpets, an adequate amount of toys, pencils, paper, a bed, a jug of water, and a half-eaten meal.

  More than that, though, was the child inside, playing happily.

  “Huh? Oh, granny!” the kid exclaimed, rushing forward.

  He wrapped his arms around Jinae, giving her a tight hug.

  “As you can see, the children are fine. Go along now, little one. You’ll be returned to your parents soon.”

  “Ok!”

  Jinae closed the door again, turning to Anta.

  “I suppose a conversation is in order. And… I suppose I should treat you like a child no longer.”

  ~~~

  The two went back upstairs, where Jinae let go of Anta after getting a hesitant promise that Anta wouldn’t attack.

  “Then, if I may-” Jinae started, but Anta cut her off.

  “What’s the deal with the kids?”

  “Ah… It seems you are aware of my role and existence. Then, you should also understand that I cannot just leave this cult. The information I obtain by staying with them is too precious. However… I will acknowledge that this has caused substantial issues. The church of Celeste tends to improve the state of any town they are in, for one, and they are incapable of doing so as long as I remain.”

  “...go on.”

  “Then, I realized I would be capable of solving two issues at once. Two birds with one stone, in a sense. Many children are sick, and many families cannot afford to travel to another town. Then, under the guise of being a ‘cultist,’ I send out my men to kidnap the sick ones. They assume, of course, that a sick child is necessary for experiments.”

  “But you’re healing them,” Anta said with grudging approval. “I see… and it establishes your position and keeps things in check.”

  “...may I ask my question, now?” Jinae said patiently.

  “What?” Anta said, raising an eye. “What do you want to know?”

  “What do you mean… by us?”

  “I’m not going to-”

  “Anta.”

  Anta went quiet as she heard Prota speak. Jinae, of course, did not hear Prota, and was confused at Anta’s sudden silence.

  “I’m not- this isn’t safe anymore, Prota,” Anta thought. “What do we get out of telling her?”

  “John told her we [Reset]. And she was ok. So…”

  “She’s not our friend anymore!” Anta thought angrily. “If she betrays us…”

  “Please.”

  “Ugh. You’re so annoying,” Anta grumbled, but it seemed she wouldn’t argue the issue anymore.

  She closed her eyes and let Prota take over. Jinae watched in amazement as the hair shifted from red to blue, the angry expression slowly settling into a mask of neutrality. When Prota’s eyes slowly opened, they remained half-closed as always, revealing her now blue irises.

  “...you’re Prota,” Jinae said, slowly beginning to understand. “Then…”

  “I’m Anta,” the other said, switching back into place. “We’re… I’m her soul.”

  “Her… soul?”

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “I can’t explain it. The one who would’ve been able to… is not here.”

  Those last words were said with a large amount of regret. Prota was surprised. She often wished John were around, but she didn’t know that Anta wished for that as well.

  “I’m you, dummy,” Anta thought. “I felt everything you felt. I care for the idiot, too.”

  That, at the very least, gave Prota a little more joy.

  “Then… who are you? What are you doing here? I heard that a child had escaped, but… you don’t seem like what Henry reported,” Jinae said, now incredibly confused.

  “Anta,” Prota said urgently. “We should tell her.”

  “...ugh. Whatever. We’ve already said too much,” Anta muttered out loud.

  Jinae sat patiently, likely suppressing a large number of questions.

  “Look, old lady,” Anta said, leaning back. “You’re about to learn a lot of things that are gonna flip your understanding of the world on its head, alright?”

  It must’ve been a strange scene. A little child bossing an old lady around. Then, it was a good thing that there was no one to observe the discussion between the two.

  “You’d be surprised,” Jinae smiled. “I’ve seen much in my time.”

  “I know. But I also know you’ve been searching for the truth of the world,” Anta taunted. “And the little girl sitting in front of you knows that truth.”

  Jinae laughed politely, but that laugh died down as she saw that Anta was dead serious.

  “...you’re far more than meets the eye,” the old lady said quietly.

  “You’re not going to learn it here, by the way,” Anta said smugly, her legs swinging back and forth. “But I’ll tell you everything else.”

  “Everything… else?”

  “You once told Prota that if there was no world remaining, there would be no point in searching for the truth. Or something like that. So we’re here to tell you that the world is about to end.”

  Anta sighed. She really wasn’t looking forward to what was coming next.

  Contrary to how she might seem, she didn’t particularly relish the idea of dealing with people. Despite her manner of speech, she wasn’t John. That man enjoyed banter, enjoyed word games, and got a kick out of riling people up. Anta wasn’t like that. She was rash, spoke her thoughts honestly, and had a fierce streak, but that didn’t mean she liked having to talk to others. Ultimately, she was still a core part of Prota.

  She was just better at talking to others than Prota was. And if she could take that burden off the individual she considered her sister… she would.

  “Do I really have to do this?” she muttered.

  “...please?”

  “Fine. Just for you.”

  Anta shuffled around, trying to get into a comfortable position before continuing.

  “Alright. You’re going to have to save questions for after, ok?” she said, frowning. “I’m not looking to hold a lecture here.”

  “...alright,” Jinae nodded. “Very well. A reasonable request.”

  “Good. As we both know, this body is an experiment. A weapon designed to kill the hero.”

  “Kill the hero?!” Jinae exclaimed.

  “I told you, no questions. Regardless, the man who made us, Doctor, didn’t anticipate us escaping, nor did he anticipate my existence, a sentient soul. Regardless, in our past life… in this one too, I guess, the village chief sent us to Vulcan.”

  “Henry,” Jinae muttered.

  “Right. From what I know, he did it to keep us safe, but that clearly backfired. Two men under Doctor came here and began to spread rumours that Prota is a demon. That… combined with a few other factors, resulted in our current physical state.”

  “How do you- where is this information coming from?” Jinae blurted out.

  “Hm? Oh, that. I guess I didn’t explain it properly. We died, and regressed back to this point in time. You found us the day after we woke up in the past.”

  “I-”

  Jinae’s mouth opened, then closed again.

  “Anyway,” Anta continued, ignoring Jinae’s visible confusion. “In our past life, we were found by a man named John. A man who defeated you, even with you at your full strength. Or so I’ve been told.”

  “He-”

  “No questions!” Anta yelled. “Seriously, this is going to take forever!”

  Jinae closed her mouth.

  Anta went on to explain the basics.

  John was a man who was the progenitor of this strange energy. The people of this world knew it as conceptual energy, and it was a power that defied the laws of physics and mana. It drew upon, as the name suggested, concepts rather than magic or physical force.

  Prota and Anta had been creating using this energy. John had, through either coincidence or “fate,” stumbled upon Prota in the past life. At the time, Anta hadn’t been awake, so Prota had been a broken and worn down child.

  “Then… well, some things happened,” Anta muttered. “John died. And Prota went off on her own. And you…”

  Anta stopped there.

  “I?” Jinae said, trying to probe more information.

  “You were our first magic teacher,” Anta said quietly. “You were the one who took us in and taught us how to use our powers.”

  “I… I did?” Jinae said, genuinely surprised.

  “Yes. And Prota… it’s the reason I’m telling you any of this at all,” Anta said. “I personally do not trust you. You are not the same person that taught Prota magic. But… she wishes to repay her debts, in a way. And if that’s what she wants, then that’s what will happen.”

  “...thank you, then,” Jinae nodded solemnly. “But I sense there is more to it than that.”

  “Ugh,” Anta grumbled. “Fine. You sacrificed your life for us. Is that enough?”

  “I did? But-”

  “We came back to life. Regression, remember? It’s going to come up a lot more in this story, so keep that in mind.”

  It was here that Anta really began to hit her stride. She wasn’t the storyteller John was, but her story came from a place of passion. She was Prota, and Prota was Anta. In a way, the two held the same experiences. The same emotions, the same desires, and so some of that began to honestly spill out as Anta recounted Prota’s adventures.

  Working through the Town of Beginnings. Fighting Doctor. Learning about the hero, Mystics, going to the capital of Lunaris and meeting the royal family. Meeting the Windwalkers. Celebrating birthdays, going to Scholaris, learning magic, fighting cultists, fighting Mystics, and slaying a dragon.

  Inheriting spells from both friends and mentors. Developing spells of her own. Growing stronger.

  Growing emotionally.

  Then, travelling to the land of the Mystics. Learning from an Elder. Saving a friend.

  Anta’s speech grew faster. More broken. At this point, it was less of a story and more of a collection of words and thoughts that just barely formed into coherent sentences.

  Finding a village that was never meant to be found.

  Unveiling a past never meant to be remembered.

  And finally, fighting John.

  Here, Anta slowed down. This was the important part. If Jinae had listened thus far, she might join their cause, and an ally as strong as Jinae was sure to be valuable.

  Anta did her best to explain as many concepts as possible without actually revealing the truth.

  “John… I’m not sure how to explain it, but he’s vital to this world,” Anta said. “If he leaves… it’s all over. In our past life, he killed the hero and all his companions, then almost left, but we stopped him. Then, he [Reset], wiping all of his memories and starting from scratch.”

  “Wiping-”

  “I can’t explain it, alright? It’s too much detail. Too many things to explain. The point is, we’re trying to stop him.”

  “We?” Jinae frowned.

  “Prota. Me and Prota. We’re going to stop him. It’s… it’s all we can do, now.”

  “I see.”

  Anta’s eyes shot up in surprise. No rebuke? No questions? That was it?

  “You do?”

  “Much of this is unbelievable. Your manner of speech does support your proposition that you’ve come back in time, but… does this not seem like the ramblings of a child?”

  “I knew it,” Anta muttered, standing up. “Fine. Sorry to have bothered you.”

  She began to leave, heading toward the door. One foot was already past the frame when Jinae called out.

  “Anta.”

  The girl paused.

  “That is not to say that I do not believe you.”

  Anta pulled her leg back.

  “You know Soul Steal. You can cast without chanting. You fight as if you have years of experience behind you. But most of all… I simply do not believe you are lying.”

  “...that’s it?”

  “Yes. Of course, I must admit that I am curious. You brought up the truth of the world, and that would intrigue me, no matter the reason. However, more than that, it was the passion within your voice that moved me.”

  Anta turned around to see Jinae with a look of pity on her face. Well, perhaps it wasn’t pity. It seemed to be one of sympathy, rather, with such strength that it could be interpreted as pain.

  “If your story is to believed… you are still a child. No matter the battles, no matter the experiences, you are not yet an adult. A child such as you should not have to bear such responsibility.”

  “I’m not a kid-” Anta started.

  “No. You are a child. You just never had the opportunity to experience your youth. And while your early days cannot be restored… go. Live.”

  “What? What do you mean-”

  “You told me that this John fellow needs to find his energy, yes? And you know where to find it? I presume, of course, it will be in the same location as the places mentioned in your tale.”

  Anta frowned. “...yes?”

  “Then, it seems to me that the time John looks for this energy will line up with your previous life.”

  “What? What could possibly make you think-”

  “If this truly is a conceptual energy, then things like fate and causality must surely come into play,” Jinae explained. “I am not the expert here. That seems to be you. But from what I know… I believe you have time. And, from what you’ve said, this John is quite strong. You are skilled, yes. But nowhere near strong enough to take on someone that could rival me.”

  “Yeah,” Anta grumbled. “Except your counterspell stuff doesn’t work against him, cause he doesn’t use magic.”

  “So I showed you even that,” Jinae smiled. “Very well. I may be no John, but… come. I’ll nurture you for a year. It seems you do not need my training, but should you need anything to recover, please, let me know.”

  Anta just stood there, stunned. In that moment of shock, Prota took over the body once more, looking at Jinae nervously.

  Then, before anyone could react, she charged forward, wrapping her arms around the old woman.

  The old friend. The old mentor.

  Jinae.

  “I- ah. I see.”

  Jinae smiled kindly, patting Prota’s head.

  “It’s been hard, hasn’t it?”

  Tears were pouring out of Prota’s eyes as she buried her face into Jinae’s robe.

  It had been hard. Incredibly hard. Anta being there to support Prota was nice, but John had been such an emotional pillar for Prota that she was having a hard time dealing with the fact that he was gone. She was trying to stay strong, but Jinae was right.

  She was still a child.

  She shouldn’t have to suffer through this pain. This suffering. The burden shouldn’t have been hers to bear. But it was. Then, if that were to be the case, then she should at least have a supporting figure. Someone she could lean on. Someone she could trust. Anta might fill that role, but ultimately, Anta was herself. It was hard to provide proper support when you were essentially alone.

  “Rest, child,” Jinae said, hoisting Prota onto her back. “I’ll see to it that we get home. I’m not sure that I can follow you, but… for one year, at least, I’ll do my best.”

  ~~~

  Somehow, the rest of the year felt oddly familiar.

  Jinae supported Prota the best she could, but that didn’t mean much. She provided her with food, shelter, and whatever training materials were needed. Prota was the one to mention the training room in Jinae’s basement, and it was promptly opened. This was where Prota wound up spending most of her time.

  Technique-wise, there wasn’t much to train. She needed to redevelop some of her muscle memory when it came to moving and dodging, and her body had lost its instinctual ability to dodge and react, but she still lacked her fear of death. Thus, since she couldn’t regain a healthy fear of dying, she needed to make sure she’d survive. It was a wonder that Anta had managed to take out cultists with this crappy body, but it was nothing a year’s worth of work couldn’t fix.

  Jinae occasionally came down, expressing concern, but Prota was fine. She had her sights set on something far greater than anybody in this world could’ve imagined, and so pushing herself to her limits wasn’t an extreme, but what was expected of her.

  Anta had gone quiet. It seemed that taking over Prota’s body had taken a toll on the soul, but before going silent, she’d assured Prota that she’d be back in a year’s time.

  Then, just like that, the days passed by quietly.

  Things felt a little strange, though.

  There were no adventurers helping her this time. There was no Wynton noble trying to take her life. No assassin coming to kill her.

  No older brother making sure she was alright.

  Finally, a year passed.

  “Mm… Prota?” Anta’s voice said groggily in her head.

  Prota nearly jumped, but managed to recompose herself in time.

  Within the year, she’d managed to get her body to a somewhat comfortable state. It was nowhere near what she’d been like in her prime, and she did miss the massive mana core she’d had right before dying, but there was nothing she could do about that. With this, at least, she could likely defeat most of the opponents that came her way.

  It had been a hard time. She’d been alone. There wasn’t anyone to support her emotionally. Jinae tried, but it was hard to console a girl that had supposedly lived several years before regressing. Blood, sweat and tears were what had gotten Prota to her current state.

  But, in the perspective of what this was for…

  It was worth it.

  “It’s our birthday,” Anta continued, letting out a yawn. “I see you worked hard.”

  “Nn.”

  “Hm… well, I’m not John. But… well, we don’t need to put this on. But I suppose it’ll do as a gift, right?”

  Before Prota, a ring shimmered into existence. With shining eyes, she slipped it on, then fed some mana into it, withdrawing a camera. It was perfectly fine. The ring shone again, and a few photos fell out.

  But as she sifted through them, she noticed something. John wasn’t present in any of them. In all the photos they’d taken as a group, John had always been the photographer. He’d never been in the frame.

  And the one photo she had of them together…

  Was gone in the previous world.

  “...we’ll get it back,” Anta said quietly. “Or… well, I guess we die trying.”

  On that hopeful note, Prota went upstairs.

  She knew what she had to do, now. She wasn’t sure how it would go. Already, Prota had seen the butterfly effect in motion, and it was likely that things would only change more from here on out.

  But that was fine. In the first place, it was time for her to grow. To become her own being. She couldn’t live in John’s shadow forever.

  She was his protector, yes.

  But she was also herself. She was Prota. Not more. Not less.

  For the first time, she understood why John said he was simply John. There wasn’t anything more that needed to be said. If one was secure in their identity, in what they wanted to do, then no description was necessary.

  They were simply themselves.

  The responsibility of the world was now on her shoulders. It was a burden she would carry because she chose to bear it.

  “...is it time already?” Jinae said upon seeing Prota emerge from the staircase.

  Prota simply nodded.

  “I have things I must attend to, but… from the look in your eyes, it seems you are prepared. With your skills… well, I won’t worry about you any more. Just remember what I said.”

  Jinae smiled, putting her hand on Prota’s shoulder. The girl flinched, but she didn’t move away, either.

  “Take a little time to live. If possible… there is no need to sacrifice yourself for this world.”

  Prota opened her mouth, momentarily choking on her words.

  “Nn… Jinae. Thank you. For everything. In this life… and the last one. For being my friend.”

  “Your friend… of course, little one.” Jinae handed her a small bag. Inside were five gold coins. “You’ll need it. Strength isn’t everything, you know. Now, go. Save the world, won’t you?”

  Prota nodded, heading out the door. It was early in the morning, the sky still slightly dark. She walked down the familiar roads, heading toward the first of many adventures.

  Toward the Town of Beginnings.

  She hadn’t realized it in her last life, but the town’s name was quite on the nose. A joke by the [Author], perhaps.

  “That’s right. Let’s go save the world,” Anta said.

  The streets were empty, and Prota’s footsteps quietly echoed down the streets as she walked toward the rising sun.