Chapter Text
Beyond the First Epilogue
On the night Altanis V first bestowed the Demon King’s blessing—
After telling Javier alone that he intended to confirm the future, Lloyd shut himself away in his room and did not emerge for quite some time.
Perhaps it was only Javier’s own sense of time that was slipping forward too quickly.
Yet the very feeling of slowness itself seemed proof enough: that no matter how much effort had been poured into resisting it, Lloyd had still not glimpsed a future entirely free from the coercive force of fate.
Having waited in silence for his lord, who showed no sign of returning, Javier at last lifted his head and quietly made his way toward one of the rooms within the manor.
He stopped before the guest chamber assigned to Verkis, the Dragon King currently residing there as something like a long-term guest. After offering a purely formal knock—knowing full well there would be no reply—Javier opened the door on his own.
Partly, this was so that the morning ensemble could enter without delay. But more than that, there was no need for a lock. Even if there were, it would be meaningless. In the human realm, there existed no being capable of harming the Dragon King—not even within this utterly abnormal territory of Frontera.
“Lord Verkis. I sincerely apologize for disturbing your rest.”
The Dragon King, in his human form, lay sprawled across a lavish chaise longue, fast asleep. He smacked his lips once, then after a moment, cracked his eyes open.
His irises—an impossible hue for any human, the same as his father Tyranus’s—flickered narrowly.
“—What is it… you’re… that one’s subordinate, aren’t you…
A human with a handsome face.”
That he remembered Javier only in the vaguest terms was entirely expected. If anything, the fact that he had registered him as an individual at all was a small blessing. Placing a hand over his chest, Javier bowed deeply.
“I am honored that you remember me. I beg your pardon for my presumption, but I have come in my lord’s stead, as I was concerned for your well-being.”
“…Concerned for me?”
He was not merely drowsy—he had no intention of waking at all—but it seemed Javier’s words were at least reaching his ears.
“To be candid, my lord Lloyd and this territory now face a crisis unlike any we have encountered before—even distinct from those matters on which you once offered us your counsel. Unless decisive action is taken to change our course, this calamity is certain to come to pass in the near future.”
“…Ah… that explains it. I’ve been sensing higher-dimensional power lingering…”
The Dragon King’s perpetually vacant gaze wavered, drifting even farther away.
Javier had thought it fortunate that Verkis had awakened merely at being addressed, but perhaps he had already been rising from the edge of sleep, having sensed the power Lloyd had exercised—power that transcended the laws of this world.
“Thus, though I hesitate to impose, I humbly ask for the assistance of the great Dragon King.”
“…And why should I…?”
When dealing with this embodiment of sloth and obstinacy, Javier had known from the outset that things would not proceed smoothly. Resistance was not merely anticipated—it was practically foreseen.
Without the slightest sign of agitation, Javier continued in a grave, measured tone.
“With all due respect—when I spoke of concern earlier, I was referring to the possibility that should anything befall Lord Lloyd, he would be unable to fulfill the promise he once made to you: to play the villain before the Dragon Queen.”
“…………That—!”
Verkis’s eyes, which had been more asleep than awake, suddenly flew open after he finished processing the knight’s words.
That contract—one that had cost him considerable effort to strike with Lloyd. Merely suggesting the risk of its annulment was enough to rapidly rouse the Dragon King’s consciousness.
“And should it become known that you failed to demonstrate growth, remaining indolent and neglecting communication as ever, then regrettably, the Dragon Queen’s displeasure would surely deepen…”
“Ggh…”
“Her delayed return would be inevitable, and the duration for which you must endure the morning wake-up alarm—while continuing your daily reports—would only grow longer. Moreover, if this territory were to fall, the alarm system itself would need to be rediscovered elsewhere, at great effort, just as Lord Lloyd previously explained.”
“Ugh…!”
“If this crisis cannot be averted, you would lose even the system that wakes you on schedule. And should Lord Lloyd be lost as well, you would forfeit even the excuses you offer the Dragon Queen.
It was precisely this fate that I found so distressing that I came before you.”
“Aah…!”
As Verkis writhed on the chaise like a serpent, Javier’s expression shifted seamlessly from solemn concern to a gentle smile.
“Which is why we have prepared an insurance policy.”
Lloyd’s sales smile—recently perfected through his new financial ventures—had likely looked much the same.
“According to Lord Lloyd, I survive in nearly every possible future. If this is a future indicated by higher-dimensional power, then the probability is exceedingly high. Should you agree to hear my small request in lieu of a written contract, I swear that if Lord Lloyd is ever unable to fulfill his promise to you, I will assume the role of villain in his stead.”
Strictly speaking, Lloyd had not said every future—but he had, at least, never spoken of one in which Javier’s death was certain.
And even if that were untrue, it would be Lloyd’s fault for failing to clarify. Javier bore no ill intent whatsoever.
Adopting his lord’s two-faced pragmatism without the slightest hesitation, Javier bowed once more, his smile radiant. If he were to die, Verkis was welcome to collect the debt from the afterlife.
“…Were you always this suspicious?” the Dragon King muttered.
Even with Lloyd’s familiar expression, the knight’s handsome face was accompanied by sparkles and light effects, which only made Verkis recoil slightly.
“If my immaturity has caused you any discomfort, I offer my sincerest apologies.”
Having been personally trained by the Demon King himself—one who surpassed even the gods at manipulating others—Javier felt no resistance whatsoever to groveling with an utterly spotless smile.
(Though, of course, he did not stick out his backside.)
Verkis stared vacantly into space for a long moment, half-lidded, before finally closing his eyes and murmuring to himself.
“…Well, perhaps that sort of demeanor would satisfy my wife, even for a villain…”
(Good.)
“Your face lacks persuasive power, but it cannot be helped.”
After complaining about another person’s face for entirely self-serving reasons, the Dragon King let out an ostentatious, exaggerated sigh—haaah—and then cast a languid look in Javier’s direction.
“You said it was a wish… surely you are not asking me to fight, are you?”
“Such a thing would be unthinkable,” Javier replied at once. “How could someone as insignificant as myself—a mere knight—dare make so presumptuous a request of the Dragon King?”
If anyone were to ask such a thing of Verkis, it would be Lloyd himself—after careful deliberation, after devising every possible strategy to ensure his request might be accepted, and only then, in person. It was not something Javier had the right to propose of his own accord.
The irises half-veiled by heavy lids—shimmering blue and yellow—narrowed with a dubious glint.
“Then—what is it you desire?”
There it is.
Javier swallowed quietly, his throat moving once, before straightening into a solemn, respectful posture and finally voicing the true purpose of his visit.
“…Would it be possible for me to see the future Lord Lloyd has seen—through my own eyes?”
He could clearly feel his hurried heartbeat pulsing at the base of his neck.
“—Future sight, is it…”
Fearing that the one thread of hope he clung to might be denied, Javier could not bring himself to meet Verkis’s gaze for those brief few moments.
He wanted to be of help to Lloyd—even if not in battle.
That long-ago wish had never ceased smoldering in his chest.
He had made efforts in his own way. He believed he had achieved results, too.
That time when the king had barged into the territory dressed in formal attire—when Lloyd, startled, had turned sharply toward him, and Javier, unsure what to say, had merely shrugged his shoulders. The expression that had softened then, light still dwelling in eyes above gaunt cheeks, had left him feeling selfishly rewarded.
And that time in the Fantala mountain range, when snow still raged, when the two of them had toyed with the Spirit King together—Javier believed that outcome had only been possible because of his confidence that, even without words, he alone could return what Lloyd sought.
Even so, when confronted with the blatant, practical power of Altanis V—who could effectively monitor the coercive force of fate itself, like a wide-reaching, bloodshot eye—Javier could not help but compare himself, and keenly feel his own inadequacy.
In the end, the foremost thing he could take pride in was martial strength: a power wielded only when a crisis arose. It was always necessary, indispensable as a final resort—but in terms of preventing calamity before it occurred, it could never be more than a deterrent.
Javier thought that there was a burden Lloyd bore—one that perhaps neither Altanis V, nor even Queen Alicia, could truly take upon themselves.
And Javier found himself thinking that this, perhaps, was what it meant to be a true understanding presence.
He had heard it all secondhand, but the only one who truly knew the future Lloyd had sought to avert was Lloyd himself. Knowing his lord, he was certain Lloyd had pared his explanations down again and again, speaking only of what was strictly necessary to move others to action.
But to bear alone the consequences of something as vast as altering the future—how heavy that responsibility must be was not difficult to imagine.
Once, Lloyd had said half in jest, “I feel like I can let my guard down when I’m with you, Javier.” It had been during a time when their exchanges were far harsher than now, when Javier would be angered by Lloyd’s words and mentally strike him once just to force down his irritation. Yet in hindsight, even then, those words had been Lloyd’s genuine feelings.
That was precisely why Javier—now able to give thought to such things—wanted to step beyond the line that had been drawn, and take on the role of bearing it together.
When he had said, “I’ll do anything,” he had not meant it as an exaggeration, nor had he ever believed such a thing would be granted if he simply waited.
Even if it was nothing more than selfish self-satisfaction.
“………………”
Verkis did not say it was impossible.
He merely exuded, with unrelenting persistence, an air of not wanting to do it—which, frankly, was nothing out of the ordinary for him.
After a pause long enough that Javier almost convinced himself the dragon king had fallen asleep again, Verkis finally spoke, his tone unchanged, light and unhurried.
“...I cannot interfere with power exercised by the higher worlds.”
At the words that reached his ears, the expectation swelling in Javier’s chest began to deflate. His shoulders nearly sagged in disappointment—but then,
“Therefore, rather than granting you foresight itself, I shall cast you into that one’s memories of futures that have not yet occurred. What you see should not differ greatly.”
The declaration, delivered with evident annoyance, was processed in an instant. Javier snapped his head up.
“That is—…understood. I am deeply grateful.”
He had never truly expected that he himself would gain the power of foresight. Lloyd’s ability was something extraordinary, belonging only to one who had come from another dimension. To be able to witness its results with his own eyes was more than enough.
His momentary hesitation had stemmed from a sense of guilt—of intruding upon another’s memories without permission. But there was no other path.
If this were nothing more than the product of his own impatience—mere unfounded worry—then so be it. If he were to see a future filled with happiness, that would be cause for unreserved celebration.
If Lloyd had truly become convinced that the force of fate had been repelled, then all Javier needed to do was once again uphold the vow he had sworn on that distant night.
He bent deeply at the waist to offer his thanks, but Verkis was clearly not listening. With half-lidded eyes, the dragon king flicked his fingers idly, as though occupied with something else.
Javier half-expected some inexplicable artifact to appear, like the one used when he had been sent to Seoul—but this time, nothing of the sort manifested.
Perhaps manipulating the consciousness of two nearby humans, as opposed to meddling with dimensions themselves, required no more than a flick of the fingers from a being so far removed from humanity.
“—!”
Without warning, his vision inverted.
There was no gaudy effect, no half-hearted display of spectacle—his surroundings were simply, abruptly, painted over with black.
From Javier’s perspective, it felt as though he had been dropped into another space without taking a single step. In reality, his body was likely still where it stood, with only his consciousness being acted upon.
The casualness of the act made the overwhelming power behind it all the more chilling. A cold sensation settled deep in his gut.
If Verkis were ever to awaken to deliberate malice, Javier doubted he could ever oppose him. Perhaps the very laziness of beings like the dragon king was, paradoxically, what kept the world in balance.
As he scanned the pitch-black expanse—so vast or so confined that he could not tell which—Verkis’s voice echoed from somewhere unseen.
“—That one has seen more than I expected…”
“Lord Verkis.”
“...Four, for now…? Hm—no, this one runs deeper. How troublesome.”
It sounded like little more than muttering to himself, but in this place there was nothing else to serve as a guide. When Javier called out, Verkis paused briefly, then seemed to reluctantly shift his awareness toward him.
“Four…?”
“Ah—no. I’ll play them back as I untangle them. Don’t concern yourself with the order. Once you’re done seeing them, it will end on its own.”
“Lord Verkis?”
“Hah… that unsightly fellow does make things difficult.”
Javier had assumed he would glimpse only the immediate future—what Lloyd himself must have seen earlier that very night. The dragon king’s words made him instinctively ask for clarification.
Verkis seemed about to respond, but perhaps reconsidered, unwilling to expend even that much effort. He said only what he pleased, then cut the conversation short. Once he reached this point, further attempts at communication were almost always futile.
Muttering incoherently, the presence of the indolent dragon king drifted away.
And so, the knight was left alone in the darkness.
Then—when he lifted his eyes, having noticed something amiss—Javier found himself standing, without warning, within an outdoor scene.
Before him stretched the streets of Frontera, shrouded in a smoldering, dark crimson haze, as though dim embers were forever drifting through the air.