Chapter 31 – The Girl Named Salvation

The world returned slowly—dust falling like snow as my eyes adjusted to the dim blue glow.
Rows upon rows of towering bookshelves stretched into darkness, each heavy with tomes bound in faded leather and silver seals.
It wasn’t a dungeon anymore.

It was a cathedral of knowledge.
And at its heart stood a girl.

She looked no older than fifteen—her cyan hair glimmering like crystal in the torchlight, violet eyes calm and ancient.
Her attire resembled that of a librarian—simple, white, and perfectly clean, as if untouched by the dust of ages.
When she spoke, her voice was soft, yet it echoed in every corner of the library.

“Welcome to the Sanctum of Fate.”
“You’ve come for the Book of Destiny… haven’t you, Kanata Tendou?”

I froze.
She knew my name.
She knew everyone’s name.

“Who are you?” Erika asked warily.

“My name is Salvation. I am the guardian of every story written here—both the ones completed… and the ones erased.”

Haqua clutched my sleeve.

“S-she’s scary, big brother…”

“Don’t worry,” I whispered. “She doesn’t feel hostile.”

Salvation tilted her head slightly, a faint, almost sorrowful smile forming.

“Hostility is unnecessary when the ending is already written.”

She approached the great podium in the center of the room.
Upon it rested a massive book—its cover a deep obsidian hue, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat.
Golden letters shimmered across the surface.

“The Book of Destiny records the fate of all worlds,” Salvation said.
“But it is not meant to be rewritten. Those who attempt to change it will face erasure from the story itself.”

“Erasure?” I asked quietly.

“You will cease to exist—not die, not vanish. You will be unwritten—your name, your deeds, even your memories erased from every mind, every history.”

Erika’s eyes widened.

“Then using it means—”

“Sacrifice,” Salvation finished.
“An absolute one.”

I took a step forward anyway.

“I already know the risk.”

Haqua immediately blocked my path, her cat-ears twitching furiously.

“Kanata, no! There has to be another way! I just— I just got you back!”

“Haqua…”

“If you disappear,” she said, voice cracking, “what’s the point of saving anyone?”

Her words hit harder than any blade could.
I hesitated—but only for a moment.

“I don’t plan on dying,” I said softly. “I plan on changing the ending.”

Salvation’s gaze lingered on me—half admiration, half pity.

“All who say that begin with courage… and end in regret.”

Meanwhile, deep in the opposite tunnel, Schwartz and Jeanne finally reached a grand golden hall.
Mountains of treasure gleamed under torchlight—coins, relics, and gems stacked higher than the ceiling itself.

Schwartz whistled low.

“I see why they call this the King’s Vault…”

But Jeanne didn’t touch a single coin.
She wandered slowly, scanning each wall, muttering under her breath.

“No… not here… where is it…”

“You’re not after gold, are you?” Schwartz said.

“I’m looking for a weapon,” she replied.
“A golden halberd once wielded by the first Solomon. They say it was forged to strike down even gods.”

Her fingers trembled slightly as she brushed dust off an empty weapon rack.

“But it’s gone.”

Back in the library, Erika had found a smaller tome near the main pedestal.
When she opened it, her eyes narrowed—
half the pages were ripped out.

“What happened here?”

Salvation’s expression dimmed.

“Five years ago… someone broke into this sanctum. They stole the pages that contained the True Law of Destiny—the rules that govern the balance between worlds.”

“Who?”

Her voice lowered to a whisper that chilled the air.

“Caine Velarius.”

Silence fell.

“He was unworthy,” Salvation continued, “and thus barred from entering the sacred library. Only those recognized by the book may step within these walls. So he forced a holy one to enter in his stead and steal what he could not claim.”

Erika’s hands tightened around the torn book.

“So he was the thief all along…”

“The Unworthy King,” Salvation said bitterly.
“A ruler who sought to control fate itself.”

Before we could respond, footsteps echoed from the corridor.
I turned—and my breath caught.

“Nagisa…?”

She and Aine emerged from the shadows, cloaked and dusty.
My hand instinctively went to my sword.

“Don’t move,” I warned.
“If you’re still under his control—”

Nagisa raised her hand silently…
and pulled from her cloak a small plush doll, sewn crudely, with white hair and red eyes.

It looked exactly like me.

“If I were still under Caine’s control,” she said softly, “would I have brought this?”

I froze.
Haqua gasped.
Even Salvation tilted her head, intrigued.

Nagisa smiled weakly.

“I made it when I was little. You’d lost your way once before… I didn’t want to lose you again.”

Something inside me broke.
I dropped my weapon and walked forward—
and before I could say another word, she threw her arms around me.

“I’m sorry…” she whispered. “For hurting you. For saying those things. For being weak.”

“Nagisa—”

“If it’ll make you forgive me,” she blurted, cheeks red, “then take me instead! My life—my body—anything!”

“B-Baka!” I sputtered, face turning scarlet. “Don’t say weird things like that!”

Haqua stomped her foot.

“I-I’m still here, you know! Stop saying inappropriate stuff in a sacred library!”

Aine covered her mouth, barely suppressing laughter.

“At least the siblings reunited,” she said with a smile. “In their own… awkward way.”

Even Salvation blinked, clearly puzzled.

“…Is this how mortals express affection now?”

“Something like that,” Erika sighed.

Once the laughter settled, the air grew heavy again.
Nagisa stepped forward, eyes firm.

“Kanata, I won’t let you sacrifice yourself. There has to be another way.”

“If we don’t rewrite fate, Caine wins,” I said. “He’ll chain both worlds in his image.”

“Then we find another method,” she insisted.
“You taught me once that giving up isn’t strength—it’s surrender.”

Salvation lowered her head.

“…There is a way.”

Everyone turned toward her.

“The Nexus Bond.”
“A ritual connecting multiple souls into one. If enough hearts align, they can rewrite a page of destiny without erasure.”

“How many do we need?” I asked.

“Five,” she replied.
“You have three.”

Haqua looked between us.

“Three? But—who are the other two?”

Before Salvation could answer—
a deep rumble echoed from above.

The ceiling split open as light poured through.
Dust and paper fluttered in a storm as a portal tore reality apart.

A tall figure descended slowly, flanked by soldiers and shadow.

Solomon Caine Velarius.

His violet eyes burned with regal cruelty, his silver armor gleaming under the celestial rift.
Beside him walked a woman with long raven hair—her gaze cold, yet conflicted.

Naomi Kaname.

“So,” Caine said smoothly, “this is where my little fugitives have been hiding.”

“Caine…” I hissed.
“What are you doing here?”

He smiled thinly.

“Finishing what should’ve ended five years ago.”

Then his hand gestured toward Kaname.

“Naomi… eliminate them.”

Her fingers trembled slightly as a blade of light formed in her palm.
She took one slow step forward—eyes filled not with hatred, but pain.

The room’s silence was suffocating.

And then the torches went out.