Treatise Of A Failed Knight-Chapter 282: Erased!

"Let’s start here..."

The translated journals spread across my desk like pieces of a scattered puzzle, and I begin to assemble them into something coherent.

Alaric’s handwriting—now rendered in readable text thanks to Regulus—reveals a man torn between scientific curiosity and growing paranoia.

The early entries are clinical, detached.

He documents his initial contact with the Enlightened Witnesses of Truth, describing them as "an organization of individuals seeking transcendence beyond human limitations."

This was years after he graduated, of course.

But even as a student, he had displayed signs of what would transform into a terribly destructive obsession.

He had grown intrigued with the supernatural after the fire incident.

After witnessing Zarius—experiencing firsthand the power of a true Leviathan.

That encounter changed him fundamentally.

’I must understand,’ he writes in one entry. ’I must learn how they achieve such power. If Leviathans exist, then surely there must be a path for ordinary humans to reach that state. You said so yourself... to become a Leviathan, I need to witness Apotheosis. The Enlightened Witnesses claim to know this path. I will walk it, no matter the cost.’

Certain entries document his involvement with the Cult. He participated in rituals, studied their texts, and even interviewed other members to try to gain as much knowledge in such a brief time.

His impatience was viewed by the other cultists as a virtue, and they called his obsession passion worthy of emulation.

He also used an alias—"Brother Mordecai"—and took great care to keep his true identity hidden.

Smart man.

His writings describes the Cult’s hierarchy, their beliefs, their practices. They worship what they call "The Leviathan Lord"—a being of immense power who exists beyond normal reality.

The Cult believes that through proper rituals and sufficient sacrifice, they can bridge the gap between humanity and divinity.

They think consuming human essence—literally devouring people in ritualistic ceremonies—will grant them Leviathan powers.

Alaric participated in several minor rituals, documenting the process with scientific detachment.

But as time passed, his tone shifts.

’These people are fanatics,’ he writes. ’They speak of enlightenment, but all I see is madness. They consume flesh and blood, convinced it will transform them, but I detect no genuine mystical change. No absorption of Characteristics. No elevation of Existence. They’re simply... eating people.’

The later entries show his growing disillusionment.

’I’ve made a mistake. The Enlightened Witnesses don’t understand Leviathans at all. Their rituals are theatrical nonsense, their beliefs nothing but superstition dressed in mystical language. They have no real knowledge, no genuine power. Just religious fanaticism and a taste for human meat.’

He began planning his exit, carefully distancing himself from the organization. He stopped attending rituals, declined invitations, and slowly faded from their circles.

’I must be cautious,’ he writes. ’These people are dangerous. If they suspect I’m abandoning the cause, they might view me as a threat. I’ve ensured my alias can’t be traced to my real identity. As long as I maintain this separation, I should be safe.’

His final entries focus on his own research, independent of the Cult. He was trying to understand Leviathans through empirical study but he also incorporated some of the religious ceremonies he witnessed back then.

It was only a matter of time before I reached the part where he talked about my entry into the Academy as well as Uncle Damon.

It contains more ramblings.

More promises of enlightenment and ascension.

But then the entries stop abruptly.

No explanation or final words.

Just silence.

’This must have been when he tried what he considered to be Apotheosis and died shortly after,’ I think to myself while sighing.

What an ignorant man.

He didn’t know the nature of what he was investigating even at the very end.

This is by no means a condescending assessment.

After all, not too long ago, I also felt like the deceased Professor. If not for Regulus, perhaps I would have also continued to stumble.

But now I understand the link between Alaric Duskryn and the Enlightened Witnesses of Truth.

More importantly, scattered throughout the journals are names and locations.

These include Cult members Alaric encountered, Temples he visited, and even Safe houses where the organization conducted their activities.

I cross-reference these with the information Regulus provided.

One name appears in both sources: Marcus Wellspring, a merchant who operates in the Capital’s commercial district.

’This is it,’ I think, excitement building. ’Our major concrete lead. We must find and interrogate this person first.’

I immediately summon Klein and share the discovery.

"Marcus Wellspring," I tell him. "He’s connected to the Cult. Find him. Bring him in for questioning. Use the Royal Knights if necessary, but take him alive. Most importantly, do so discreetly."

Klein nods and departs with renewed determination.

’Hehehe!’ My lips curl upward with overwhelming joy and immense vigor.

This is it!

A breakthrough in this case!

*******

The next few weeks blur into a frenetic cycle of investigation, capture, and interrogation.

We find Marcus Wellspring hiding in a warehouse on the city’s outskirts. He tries to resist, but the Royal Knights overwhelm him quickly. Under interrogation, he reveals the locations of two more Cult members and another Temple.

We raid the Temple, rescue more victims, capture more cultists.

Each captured member leads us to another.

Each Temple we discover contains clues to the next location.

It feels like progress.

Like we’re finally dismantling the organization piece by piece.

We uncover their recruiting methods—targeting the desperate and disillusioned, promising them power and purpose. We learn about their hierarchy—low-ranking members like those we’ve captured, mid-level administrators who coordinate logistics, and high-ranking priests who conduct the actual rituals.

But we never find the high-ranking members.

They’re always one step ahead, evacuating before we arrive.

Still, we persist.

Every raid saves more victims.

Our interrogation also provides more information.

But... It’s like an endless chase.

A journey with no end.

Then—

During one interrogation session, a cultist lets something slip.

"You’re too late anyway," he laughs, blood trickling from his mouth. "The Grand Ceremony is coming. The Enlightenment Ritual. All the sacrifices we’ve gathered—all the special ones we’ve been saving—they’ll be consumed in one glorious offering."

My blood runs cold.

"When?" I demand. "When is this ceremony?"

"Soon," he whispers. "Very soon. In five days. And when it happens, your friends will become part of something greater. Their essence will fuel our ascension. They should be honored."

I leave the interrogation chamber and immediately check the calendar.

If he’s telling the truth—if the Grand Ceremony is only days away—then I’m running out of time.

Seraphina. Jonathan. The Third Prince. Lord Krawford.

All the other missing people.

They’ve been kept alive for this.

For one massive ritual!

’We’ve investigated using clues from Regulus’ letters and Alaric’s journals, and we are yet to exhaust the leads. Maybe consulting them again will give us more clues regarding the Threshold that they are all rambling about.’

I decide to return to Alaric’s journals with desperate urgency, searching for any mention of such a grand ceremony.

Perhaps the location, too...

But as I arrive in the room where all the necessary documents are kept, I discover something impossibly strange.

—None of the documents are present!

"W-what?!"

At first, I wonder if these documents were moved without my permission or notice.

Upset, I confront the guards and everyone else involved in this investigation with me. But this is when I discover something even more distressing.

"What document are you talking about?"

"We haven’t found anything for the past couple of weeks."

"Nothing has come up yet."

"Temples? We invaded Temples? Other than the first one almost two months ago, I am not aware of any other raids."

"We have neither captured nor interrogated any of the Cult Members besides the first four we caught back then."

"Marcus Wellspring? Who is that?"

"Javier... are you feeling well?"

No, I should be the one asking Klein and everyone else involved in this investigation that question.

None of them remember everything we have done these past few weeks.

No, that isn’t quite right.

Instead, it appears they have completely different memories of how we spent our time investigating, and how nothing of note has come up.

I try to appeal to evidence, but none of them are present!

None of Regulus’ letters or Alaric’s notes can be found.

What of the prisoners?

The several cult members we captured and interrogated before imprisoning?

None of them can be found!

There are simply no records of us ever even capturing any of them!

What in the world is happening.

Am I losing my mind?

Did I hallucinate everything we went through these past few weeks?

No... No, that isn’t it.

It’s a lot more sinister than that!

My hands start to tremble as I come to a terrifying realization.

Someone has changed the past!

What did they change?

Regulus Heathcliff’s package!

If it never arrived, we would never have made any progress with our investigation.

We would never have found any names or arrested anyone. None of the things I remember would have occurred at all!

As proof of this, all the documents and the signs of our progress are gone—as though they never existed. The memories of everyone are also attuned to this new reality that corresponds with this fact.

But what about me?

’Why do I still remember the past as unchanged? I don’t have memories of this new reality the same way others do.’

Is it because I am a Leviathan?

I don’t know... but that is the only explanation that makes even a lick of sense!

But—

’If we haven’t captured any of those people, then that means they must still be out there somewhere!’

Thankfully, thanks to spending weeks immersed in this investigation and personally overseeing all of their interrogation, I still have their information memorized.

"Get all the Royal Knights ready!" I tell Klein immediately, shoving aside the terror that is rapidly building up within me.

"We’re going on a major raid! We’ll sweep down all the adversaries at once."

My instincts tell me it is pointless.

My better judgment tells me to stop.

But I cannot!

I refuse to!

’We only have a few days left, and I’m the only one who knows it!’

Time is of the essence!

We need to follow these people and find the Cult’s Threshold somehow!

But—

"It didn’t matter in the end..."

Two days have passed now, and the time was enough for me to accept the horrid truth.

There is no point.

All the clues we had fell into the hands of the Leviathan who went to the past.

They took away all our documents and erased our progress. Not just that, but all of the Cult Members we knew about and investigated were also eliminated by ’natural causes’ in the few weeks after.

What does this mean?

It means our progress has been completely upturned! In this new timeline, the past few weeks have been used to eliminate all potential clues we could possibly explore.

And I am powerless to do anything about it!

I am stuck in the present.

Two days... maybe three days if I’m lucky.

That’s how much time is left until the Grand Ceremony that will seal the fate of all those who were kidnapped.

What now?

What can a lone Rank 1 Leviathan like me do?

Nothing!

Things that should exist simply... don’t.

Things that ought not to exist... do.

Reality itself has been rewritten.

Is this the true essence of a Leviathan’s power—moving the world?!

Only one power could accomplish this.

Not Frontflow, which increases the user’s flow of time.

Not Tracing, which only allows movement through space.

This is something else.

Something more profound.

More dangerous!

—Jumping.

Past Jumping, to be precise.

The ability to travel backward in time and change events before they occur.

Or...

... Change events that have already occurred!

The more I sink into my thoughts, the further the despair seeps into my heart.

Horror dawns on me.

And, the scariest realization of all finally confronts me, hitting the final nail on the futility of my actions.

Leviathans can access the Temporal Layers of Existence.

At Rank 1, the limit is the Day Layer.

At Rank 2, this increases to the Week Layer.

But... the past few weeks were altered, starting with the package from Regulus.

I think about the scope of changes.

—Weeks!

That level of temporal manipulation requires immense power.

Since a Rank 2 Leaper can jump back days, a single week at most, my assessment was wrong from the start.

This is not the work of a Rank 2 Leviathan.

I am not dealing with a Disciple Leaper...

... But an Adept!

My enemy is a Rank 3 Leviathan!

[A/N: A frightening realization changes everything! How can Javier cope with these terrifying changes, especially with an impossible deadline in front of him?]