Despite all I knew about this world—its history, its future, and the countless important figures within it—there was one truth I couldn’t grasp.
Vanitas Astrea.
Nothing about him was clear. One fact pointed in one direction, another contradicted it entirely.
“Sigh.”
I clutched my head. My life would’ve been much easier if I had all of his memories.
One thing was certain. His actions weren’t as simple as I once thought. The abuse of his sister, the suffering he caused to those around him…. there had to be layers to it.
I had always been open to different perspectives, knowing that every story had multiple sides. Yet, when it came to Vanitas Astrea, I had judged him harshly without truly understanding.
Perhaps I needed to reconsider. If I truly wanted to uncover the truth, I had to accept the possibility—however much I hated it—that there may have been some justification for his actions.
Still, there was no clear answer. Charlotte saw her brother as despicable, and I couldn’t fault her for that.
But Vanitas himself?
His character was far more complex than I had given him credit for.
“….”
One thing I knew for sure. The diary may have been fabricated.
And just like me…. Vanitas Astrea had been a victim of abuse.
A simple solution would have been to ask Charlotte, though I disliked the idea of forcing her to relive her trauma.
But now that I thought about it, she wouldn’t have a definite answer either. It felt like she had been kept in the dark from the very beginning.
“….”
No, it wasn’t just her.
It was as if I, too, was being kept in the dark.
“The commander has called for you.”
I turned my head to the side. Clevius stood there, his usual contemptuous gaze fixed on me.
“….”
I didn’t care. Without a word, I walked past him, leaving him standing with his arms crossed.
Some people simply couldn’t be reasoned with, no matter how much effort I put in. I wasn’t naive enough to try and win everyone’s favor.
That was the reality I had come to accept as Vanitas Astrea.
* * *
“You know, Charlotte,” Cassandra said as Charlotte set her tray down. “Why do you always get so much food but never finish it?”
“Ah?” Charlotte adjusted her skirt before settling. “I guess I’m trying to build an appetite?”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.”
Charlotte lowered her right hand under the table, hiding the faint scar on her knuckle. It had suddenly appeared when she was younger. Perhaps it was a mark left behind by her eating habits.
Vanitas had always told her she was too thin for her age, and urged her to eat more. Though she would always insist that she was eating enough.
Still, it was better now than before. At least she no longer felt the urge to force herself to retch.
“I heard the professor was deployed for the Red Moon preparations. Do you know when he’ll be back?” Cassandra asked.
“I don’t know the specifics. He’s been coming home late every day. And whenever he does, he goes straight to sleep and wakes up early to leave again.”
“Ah. I hope he doesn’t push himself too much.”
“Yes.”
Charlotte barely had the chance to see him off. Whenever she returned home, Vanitas was already gone.
When she stayed up to greet him, he would exchange a few words with her before disappearing heading to bed.
No, saying he went to bed was a stretch. He never did. He’d head straight to his office, and Charlotte wouldn’t disturb him. only to find him later asleep at his desk.
Then, by the time she woke up the next morning, he was already gone.
Munch. Munch.
She knew he was a workaholic. The old Vanitas had been that way, and the new one was no different. But lately, he seemed to be pushing himself even harder.
“Honestly, he should take a break. The other professors have already returned. I don’t know why he hasn’t,” Charlotte said.
——Then let me tell you something.
A sudden voice interrupted. A certain blonde adjusted her skirt and sat down beside Charlotte, who was mid-bite.
“Ah, Astrid,” Charlotte greeted.
“Oh, hello, Astrid,” Cassandra added.
“Yes, greetings, ladies.” Astrid gave them a small nod before looking at Charlotte.
“Tell us what, exactly?” Charlotte asked.
Astrid cleared her throat. “I heard this from the Institute. The professor isn’t coming back anytime soon.”
“What do you mean?” Charlotte frowned.
“The Red Moon.” Astrid leaned in slightly. “He’s joining the suppression effort.”
* * *
——Formation. Hold! Charge!
The command rang through the training grounds as the knights surged forward in perfect sync. Shields locked, spears thrust forward, and footwork aligned to maintain cohesion.
The front-line knights absorbed the impact as their sparring opponents clashed against them.
Clang! Clang!
Meanwhile, in the corner of the training grounds, several knights engaged in one-on-one sparring matches.
——Lift your feet up!
Swords clashed, and the sound of metal against metal rang through the air as they exchanged blows.
Above, Vanitas leaned against the railings, scanning the training grounds.
“Everyone’s trying to adopt the maneuvering strategy you implemented,” Margaret said beside him.
“And?”
“They’re still stiff. They understand the theory, but their execution is lacking.”
Vanitas hummed in thought. It was expected. Applying theory to real combat was never instant.
Below, knights attempted to shift seamlessly between offensive and defensive positions while maintaining formation. However, their footwork was uncoordinated, and their timing was off.
“Is that so?” Vanitas smirked.
The strategy Vanitas implemented prioritized movement, positioning, and seamless transitions between roles.
Each knight had to anticipate their ally’s actions while adjusting their own. It was something that required not just skill but trust and instinct.
With knights trained under different doctrines and backgrounds, to them, the issue wasn’t strength or training.
It was synchronization.
“….”
Vanitas glanced at Margaret. The memories he had seen still lingered in his mind. He hadn’t known that Vanitas Astrea and Margaret had met as children.
Vanir Astrea’s words echoed in his thoughts.
——Why did you save the Princess of Illenia?!
He knew Margaret’s past, but discovering that it was Vanitas Astrea who had saved her that day was unexpected. More than that, the real enigma was Vanir Astrea himself.
——Because of your recklessness, the plan nearly collapsed. I should never have brought you here with me.
Plan? What plan?
From the tone and phrasing, it almost sounded as if Vanir Astrea had wanted Margaret Illenia dead.
“….”
If that were true, then did Vanir Astrea have a hand in the demon attack that day?
Was Margaret the target?
No. If that were the case, he would have ensured her death when she and her father migrated to Aetherion.
Then…. was the real target her mother?
“Yes? Do you have something to say?” Margaret tilted her head, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“Ah.”
He hadn’t realized he had been staring at her for a while.
“Princess Illenia,” he said.
“….”
Margaret’s eyes widened, her lips slightly parted in surprise. The statement seemed to have truly taken her aback.
“….I haven’t heard that in a long time.”
“How have you been all this time?” Vanitas asked.
Margaret lowered her gaze, resting her arms on the railing as she leaned forward slightly. Vanitas waited for her response.
“What kind of question is that? It hasn’t even been a month since we last saw each other,” she said.
“I’m not speaking to the knight Margaret Illenia,” Vanitas clarified. “I’m asking the princess, Margaret Illenia.”
“Ah….”
Margaret hesitated for a moment before answering.
“That’s a strange way to put it. But I’ve been fine. There are struggles, but I’m managing.”
“I see.”
“You know, Vanitas, you’ve been full of surprises lately. It makes me feel a little bit envious.”
“Envious? Of what?”
“Out of everyone in our batch, you seem to be the one who’s doing the best after graduation,” she said.
“….”
Vanitas didn’t respond right away. That wasn’t exactly true. Considering everything he knew about Vanitas Astrea’s post-graduation life, things were far from ideal.
“You too, though,” he said. “The Illenia Knights. Congratulations.”
Margaret chuckled. “Ah, thank you. Though, I wouldn’t say we’re doing as well as you.”
Vanitas shook his head. “Building an Order from scratch is no small feat. You should give yourself more credit.”
Margaret looked at him for a moment before exhaling. “Maybe. But it still feels like there’s a long way to go.”
Perhaps, to her, the Illenia Knights were just the beginning.
Silence settled between them, broken only by the sound of grunts and clashing metal from the training grounds below.
Then, Vanitas spoke. “Margaret.”
“Yes?”
“Are you still in contact with them?”
Margaret’s expression turned serious. “Them?”
“The ones from that day.”
“They have names, Vanitas,”
“Yes.”
Margaret studied him for a moment before sighing. “Some of them, yes. Not all.”
“Do they still hold resentment?” Vanitas asked.
“That’s a complicated question. Some do. Others moved on. And a few…. never had the chance to.”
“Figures.”
Vanitas leaned against the railing, his fingers tapping lightly against the wood as another silence followed.
Then, quietly, Margaret spoke. “Why do you ask?”
“Is reconciliation possible?”
“….”
Margaret’s brows lifted slightly. She had seen that expression before.
The same melancholic look he always wore when he thought no one was watching. The same expression she had seen in her own reflection after her mother died.
The look of someone hurting, longing, searching for something just out of reach.
A look that could only be described as a mix of self-pity and regret.
Margaret exhaled. “I don’t know. Blaming you entirely is unfair, yes. But people don’t change their perceptions that easily.”
She hesitated before continuing.
“If you really want to, I’m still in contact with three of them. There’s Nicolas—”
“Nah, not him.” Vanitas cut in immediately.
Margaret paused but didn’t comment. Instead, she continued.
“There’s Merilda. She’s settled down and married to a knight. And then there’s Allen. He’s working as an accountant at a firm.”
“I see.”
Vanitas hadn’t intended to seek forgiveness in the first place. Reconciliation and forgiveness weren’t the same.
The sins committed weren’t his, but belonged to the original Vanitas. And he refused to lower himself and ask for absolution for something he hadn’t done unless it was truly necessary.
“They seem to be doing fine,” he said.
“Yes. In their own ways, they’ve moved on from their wounds.”
“And you?” he asked. “I’ll ask again. Have you ever hated me?”
“No.” Margaret shook her head. “I don’t think I could ever hate you.”
“But why?” He frowned. “Why would you blindly trust a man surrounded by so many flags?”
Margaret’s way of thinking was a mystery to him. If their positions were reversed. If someone’s actions had led to him missing something as crucial as Charlotte’s funeral—he knew he would resent them for life, intentional or not.
Margaret exhaled, leaning on the railing. “Because I don’t believe in judging a person by the worst thing they’ve done. Especially when I don’t know the full story.”
“Hm.”
It was nearly the same answer she had given him before.
Margaret turned to him. “Are you worried I’d hate you? Is that why you asked again?”
Vanitas remained quiet turned away.
“I hope your ideology remains steadfast despite all the obstacles thrown at you,” he muttered.
Trusting blindly in someone who couldn’t even bring himself to trust others was hypocritical. Yet, Vanitas had seen firsthand how resistant people were to the facts and truths he tried to share.
Even when knowledge was handed to them on a silver platter, they refused to believe. He couldn’t exactly blame them either.
Still, if someone could hold onto faith despite all contradictions….
“The true ending might be possible.”
* * *
It didn’t take long.
All knights and mages gathered atop the wall. The moon hung high, a pale glow starked against the black sky.
The air was cold, and silence settled, broken only by the rustling of crimson leaves against the breeze.
——….
But it wasn’t just the trees slowly turning crimson in the autumn season.
——It’s here.
The silence stretched. Too long. Some held their breath. Others stood frozen. Hands clenched around hilts. Magic parchments trembled in tight grips.
The horses grew restless, their hooves scraping against stone.
——That’s….
The voices layered, overlapping in uneasy tones. Eyes darted between the sky and the silhouettes from a distance.
The darkness wasn’t empty anymore. It moved.
——….I can never get used to seeing that.
It stared back at them.
“….”
Vanitas stood still with his arms crossed. His role wasn’t on the frontlines, but a commander.
No, a general.
——Everyone, look up!
The moon.
“….”
It was bleeding.