The World Is Mine For The Taking-Chapter 1180: Epilogue 22 - An End And A New Beginning (1)

Chapter 1180: Epilogue 22 - An End And A New Beginning (1)

Shredica’s POV

I walked through the courtyard at an unhurried pace, the stone tiles beneath my boots faintly cool despite the morning light spilling down from above. The air carried the familiar scent of dust, steel, and lingering mana. From where I stood, I could already see them. The heroes, I mean.

They were back.

Back in the open grounds, back under the sun, back where they belonged, weapons in hand and bodies in motion.

They had returned to training.

At first glance, it almost looked normal, as if nothing had happened. Blades clashed. Magic flared briefly before being reined in. Shouts echoed across the courtyard as well as commands, corrections, as well as encouragement. Their movements were stiff in places, cautious in others, but undeniably real. They were training again.

It had been a full week since that incident.

A week since everything had gone wrong.

And yet, here they were.

It seemed like the heroes were finally beginning to recover from that tragedy, little by little, step by step. Not fully. Not cleanly. But enough to stand on their feet and move forward.

Of course, not all of them were the same.

Some of the female heroes were still broken by what had happened.

I knew that without even seeing them.

They weren’t here.

Some of them refused to leave their rooms at all. They stayed inside, doors closed, windows shut, bodies curled in on themselves as if the world outside might swallow them whole if they dared step out. Days passed, and they remained there, balled up in silence, breathing but not truly living.

To be honest, I couldn’t fully understand why they were like that.

No... that wasn’t quite right.

It wasn’t that I didn’t understand the reason behind their actions. I understood it perfectly well. What I didn’t understand were their feelings. It was how deeply those emotions dug into them, how tightly fear and grief wrapped around their hearts.

It was their first time.

Their first time experiencing something like that.

Death was normal to me.

Pain was normal.

Killing was normal.

I had taken lives with my own hands. I had watched people bleed out, had seen the light drain from their eyes, had caused things that would never be considered acceptable—let alone normal—by the standards of this world. To me, death was a presence I walked beside, not something that stopped me in my tracks.

But for them?

Seeing death up close, staring straight into it, watching it happen right before their eyes—it was something unimaginably traumatizing. Something that carved itself into the mind and refused to leave. Something that lingered long after the blood was gone.

I couldn’t have ever wished for them to witness it like that.

And yet... here I was.

I had no idea when or how I had grown sentimental toward these people.

At the beginning, I saw them as tools. Pieces on a board. Means to an end. Heroes were useful, and usefulness was all that mattered. That was how I had always thought.

But now, for some reason, I pitied them.

That realization alone unsettled me.

I shouldn’t have felt anything for them. There was no reason to. No benefit. No logic behind it. And yet, my chest felt heavy as I watched them struggle through movements that once came easily.

That weight refused to go away.

Maybe it was because of the dreams.

Those dreams that kept coming back, night after night.

For some reason, these people felt familiar to me. Not in a vague sense, but in a way that made my thoughts hesitate, as if I was missing a piece of myself. I knew I had never met them before—my memories were clear on that—but still, something didn’t line up.

And it wasn’t just me.

They looked at me strangely sometimes. Their gazes lingered a little too long, their expressions flickering with confusion or recognition they couldn’t explain.

They had called me Chihara.

Chihara Akane.

That name echoed in my head far too often.

It had become familiar through my dreams, woven into scenes I couldn’t fully remember but couldn’t forget either. The more those dreams repeated, the harder it became to dismiss them as meaningless. And when those same people spoke that name aloud, when they looked at me as if I was someone they knew—

It stopped feeling like coincidence.

It was too much.

As I continued walking through the corridor that connected the courtyard to the inner grounds, I spotted Miss Chiaki.

She stood a short distance away, her posture relaxed but attentive, eyes focused on the heroes and magic knights as they trained. She wasn’t supervising in the strict sense. She was observing, watching for signs that couldn’t be seen through strength or technique alone.

"Miss Chiaki," I said as I approached her.

She turned toward me, and as always, greeted me with that gentle, familiar smile. "Miss Shredica. Good morning."

"It seems you woke up earlier than usual today," I remarked.

She let out a small, thoughtful hum. "Well, today is the day everyone will be checked regarding their mental state. Many of the students are still carrying the terror of that incident with them. I want to be here for them—every single one."

That answer didn’t surprise me.

"You’re always like that," I said.

She blinked. "Like what?"

"Nothing," I replied, shaking my head slightly.

I wasn’t sure why I had said it that way. It came out as if I had known her far longer than I actually had, like an old habit slipping through. But even without knowing her deeply, I could see it plainly—she was doing everything she could for them.

And she had been, long before today.

"What you’re doing is very gallant, Miss Chiaki," I said honestly. "I hope you stay that way."

Her expression softened, and before she could respond, I turned and continued walking.

I hadn’t gone far when I heard her voice again.

"Um!"

I paused and glanced back.

She looked like she wanted to say something, her hands slightly clenched, her lips parted as if the words were right there.

Then she hesitated.

"A-Actually... never mind," she said, forcing a small smile.

Whatever it was, it seemed like something she had spoken without thinking. A spur-of-the-moment thought that lost its courage halfway out.

I didn’t press her.

I simply nodded once and went on my way.