SSS-Rank Pervert: Reincarnated in the World of Summoners-Chapter 61: How Many Times

The dream I had last night finally solved the mystery that had been haunting me for so long.

The dream about that girl. The one they branded as the Witch of Calamity’s Daughter. The one they treated like a monster from the moment she drew her first breath.

The same girl I found myself wanting to protect even within the confines of a dream.

It seemed foolish at first. Why would I care so deeply about someone who only existed in my unconscious mind?

But the answer was simple.

She was the villain this world had painted. A monster created by their own cruelty.

And I absolutely despised when people ignored the perspective of broken souls who never asked to become what they were forced to be.

She was just another victim they twisted into their so-called villain.

Several days earlier in the dreams.

I had finally won against her. After countless attempts, she accepted defeat and agreed to obey my wish. To run away from that wretched orphanage.

We escaped together under the cover of night.

I showed her the outside world for the first time. The ancient buildings and houses of that era.

The waterfalls cascading down mossy cliffs. The sunset painting the beach in shades of gold and crimson.

The bustling market filled with merchants shouting over one another. The food stalls where we devoured skewers until our bellies ached.

And her face. That face which had only ever known isolation and hatred. It transformed before my very eyes. From a lost child. To a broken child. To something I never thought I would witness.

A smile.

I was happy.

I taught her everything I could. And naturally, the first lesson was stealing, since neither of us possessed a single coin. She proved to be quite the talented little thief.

My only mission from that point forward was to ensure that small smile never faded. To make it wider with each passing day. Brighter with each shared moment.

That was my sole purpose.

But it shattered the moment the entire kingdom went on high alert.

They knew she had escaped from the orphanage. Knights flooded the streets. High order summoners patrolled every gate, every corner, every shadow. Escape became impossible.

They found us eventually. While she was finally beginning to blend in with society. Playing with neighbor children like a normal girl for the first time in her miserable existence.

The knights didn’t hesitate.

They executed me right there. A blade through my chest before I could even scream her name.

I never learned what happened to her after that.

The next night brought another dream.

This time I stood at the peak of a mountain. Wind howling around me. Clouds drifting below like a sea of white.

I turned and saw her sitting at the edge of a cliff. Legs dangling over the abyss.

She resembled Amelia. The same girl from before. The one I had given that name to.

But something was different. She had grown. Her features more mature. Only a few years younger than me now.

"Why won’t you just go away?" Her voice trembled with exhaustion.

"How many times must I tell you that I am cursed? How many times will you suffer because of me? How many times..."

She trailed off. Tears welling in her eyes.

She refused to look at me. Just kept staring at the ground far below.

"How many times will you make me suffer by losing you in front of my eyes?"

I was stunned by the growth. Not just by her body, but by the weight of emotion in those words. She had developed feelings I never anticipated.

So I did the only thing that felt right. I sat down beside her. Ran my fingers gently through her hair. Pulled her head to rest against my shoulder.

"Didn’t I tell you? I am incredibly stubborn. When I decide I want something, even the gods themselves would have to beg me to reconsider."

I chuckled softly.

"And as for dying? Suffering? That’s nothing to worry about. Haven’t I mentioned that I’m immortal?"

She lifted her head from my shoulder. Eyes red and puffy.

"Then what about me? What about my suffering?"

No words came to my mouth. I had no answer for that.

So I changed the subject.

"You’ve grown so quickly. But I have to admit, I miss my little Amelia."

She pouted. Knowing exactly what I was doing.

I wiped the tears from her cheeks with my thumb.

"Didn’t I say you’re never allowed to cry again? Promise me you’ll always smile. In front of me. No, in front of any situation life throws at you. Promise me that you’ll..."

"WATCH OUT!"

Her eyes went wide with horror, fixed on something behind me.

Then I felt it. A searing pain in my neck. As if my head was being separated from my body.

And I woke up.

Day after day, the pattern repeated.

I would meet her in dreams. Our conversations always revolved around the same theme. Me swearing I would never abandon her. Her begging me to leave before I got hurt again.

And then I would die.

Every single fucking time.

With each dream, she grew older. Not just physically, but emotionally. Her behavior shifted. Her warmth retreated behind walls I couldn’t climb.

I could feel the bond between us stretching thin. She was deliberately pushing me away. Creating distance where none should exist.

Then came the dream where she finally lost control.

We were arguing. The same argument we always had. And something inside her snapped.

A black sword materialized in her hand. Forged from nothing but her will and magic.

Before I could react, she drove it through my heart.

"I don’t deserve you."

Those were her final words before I woke up drenched in sweat.

I lay there in confusion. What was happening to her? Where did this sudden rage come from? This anger I had never witnessed in all our time together?

Questions flooded my mind. What occurred during the gaps between my deaths? How was she still alive when we were captured every single time? How had she grown so much?

Then I realized something crucial. She had used magic. Creation magic if I put it like that.

But that was supposed to be impossible for any normal human as humans can’t possess it. Unless she was never human to begin with. Unless she was a summon all along.

Perhaps there was more to this mystery than I understood. But what frightened me most was the dark possibility forming in my mind.

Please. Don’t let it be what I think it is.

My fear became reality in the final dream.

I stood in a place that looked like the aftermath of a war between mortals, demons, and angels combined. A battlefield where all of existence had converged to slaughter one another.

Bodies carpeted the ground as far as my eyes could see. Countless souls scattered across the earth like fallen leaves after an autumn storm.

Some still twitching. Some gasping their final breaths. None moving to help each other.

Every corpse shared the same grotesque detail. A whirlpool of blood surrounding them. And the weapon that had claimed their life still embedded in their flesh.

Spears. Arrows. Rods. In the distance, over a hundred massive black towers had crushed entire battalions beneath their weight.

I recognized this magic. This destruction.

And I was terrified for her.

In the absolute silence of this graveyard, I heard a cry.

I ran toward the sound. Stumbling over thousands of bodies. Tripping on severed limbs and broken weapons. My heart pounding louder with every step.

When I finally reached the source, my legs nearly gave out.

A girl lay broken on the ground. Blood pouring from her mouth. A mace embedded in her chest. A warhammer crushing her ribs. Holes punctured through both her arms where countless weapons had found their mark.

She had endured an entire army’s worth of attacks.

And standing over her were hundreds of summoners and their summons. Victorious. Merciless.

Tears streamed down my face as I recognized who lay dying in that pool of crimson.

Amelia.

She turned her head. Found me through the crowd. And smiled.

That gentle, heartbreaking smile of farewell.

I charged forward screaming her name with everything I had.

But the world began to fade. Colors bleeding away. Sounds growing distant.

The last image burned into my memory was those bastards laughing in celebration. And among them, standing tall with blade in hand, was a familiar golden knight.

Ashen. Freya’s summon.

I woke from the nightmare.

But something was wrong.

This wasn’t my bed. This wasn’t the villa. This wasn’t anywhere I recognized.

I floated in an endless void of swirling darkness and faint starlight.

And standing before me was a woman I had seen once before. In the very first dream. The one who had been cradling newborn Amelia in her arms. The one the world had condemned with that terrible title.

The Witch of Calamity.

She wore a smile on her face. But behind that smile lurked an ocean of pain deeper than anything I had ever witnessed.