Chapter 8: Seducing My Great Saintess
Cecilia lost her memory?
Otto's brow furrowed as he inquired inwardly.
"Is this amnesia a normal phenomenon, or some operational flaw?"
[Partial memory extraction phenomenon.]
"Oh, since it has a proper technical term… it's within normal bounds, then? Care to elaborate?"
[Not guaranteed to occur—but within acceptable parameters. Cause: deceiving the world.]
"I see…"
Comprehension dawned in an instant.
To twist history and pluck Cecilia from death's grasp, he had to deceive the world itself.
And a person, after all, is part of that world.
The Book of Wei denies the established past, fabricates historical ambiguities, and wrests a life from the world's foreordained demise.
This memory extraction serves as the "deception" imposed upon the rescued—stripping away the self-awareness of having once "died."
Her memories are undergoing partial reconstruction, which explains why the current Cecilia cannot access most of them.
Following this thread, Otto couldn't help but wonder: is this revision of history akin to fishing a soul from the river of time, or merely a subtle distortion—like altering a few strokes in an immense historical scroll?
So… would it trigger a butterfly effect?
Or do all branches of fate inexorably converge upon a predetermined end?
For instance—if the future me sought to revive Kallen, then the figure lying in that coffin earlier… was it truly a sleeper, or a corpse?
[Who knows?]
From the space between his brows, the Book of Wei offered a reply that was both enigmatic and profoundly revealing.
Who knows…
On the surface, cryptic. In truth, it conveyed volumes.
For instance, a butterfly effect may already have unfolded with some probability.
For instance, this golden finger will answer his questions.
—Which instantly reminded Otto of the notions he'd entertained before employing it.
Upon grasping the Book of Wei's constraints, he had immediately pondered: master the rules themselves, then leverage those rules to liberate the "time distortion" ability from its shackles.
Since it had offered no response to that—had not voluntarily supplied a method to render the "future" malleable—it likely confirmed that his notion of "wielding the rules" was viable… and thus required no correction.
Otto savored the phrase, then posed another inward question.
"Is the revived individual's amnesia permanent or temporary?"
Raising her from scratch over years would be intriguing, but the original plan… might require minor adjustments.
[Recovery expected within seven days.]
Seven days.
Neither too long nor too brief—ideal for weaving an exquisite scheme.
Ideas cascaded through Otto's mind. He turned to Amber.
"Amber, I'm afraid I'll need to impose upon you for the next month."
"Lord Overseer, are you planning to… again…?"
A foreboding chill crept over Amber.
She knew this posture all too well.
"I intend to remain at Cecilia's side throughout her memory recovery," Otto declared. "Certain duties may fall to you in my stead."
You're simply shirking work!
Amber inwardly protested: Even without Lady Cecilia, you were still immersed in Kallen Fantasy!
"I can manage daily operations, but Lord Overseer, certain matters…"
Amber attempted a gentle negotiation.
"I'll carve out time to address them," Otto proclaimed with a magnanimous sweep of his hand. "Fear not."
Very well.
Amber sighed inwardly.
After all, this was Lady Cecilia… the saint who once compelled the Overseer to halt development on Kallen Fantasy…
The sole person for whose safety he had prepared a SoulSteel body in Siberia.
Thus, abandoning duties to tend to her now was only natural… only natural…
I'll simply shoulder a heavier burden… it's only right…
She steeled herself with fervent conviction, then nodded.
"Then I wish Lord Overseer swift success in rousing Lady Cecilia."
"We shall see what fate decrees. Also—"
Otto stepped forward, relieving Amber of Cecilia's waist and drawing the woman into his embrace.
"—you've been listening for quite some time, my dear. Isn't it time you opened your eyes?"
He waved a hand. Amber understood the cue and melted into the shadows to prepare garments for Cecilia.
A newborn chick imprints upon the first creature it beholds as parent. Though Cecilia had merely lost her memories, Otto refused to squander any opportunity to etch himself deeply upon her soul.
It was calculated, yes—but mutually beneficial.
The current Otto would never mistreat those who belonged to him.
…
Cecilia's eyes fluttered open. In their crystalline depths reflected only the image of Otto Apocalypse.
Who… is he?
She possessed no recollection of his features, remembered nothing of their shared history, and knew not what bond tied them.
Yet in the fleeting shards of memory, she could always sense this man's presence—familiar with his voice, instinctively drawn to follow in his wake.
"Nn…"
Suddenly, one fragile scene crystallized vividly: a girl laughing with unrestrained joy on a bustling pedestrian street, while a blond man trailed behind, laden with bags both large and small.
What… is this?
Cecilia froze for several heartbeats, then strained to recall the moments before and after.
It proved futile. Everything surrounding the fragment remained an impenetrable void. The harder she grasped, the sharper the ache in her skull.
She nearly clawed at her scalp in desperation, yearning to seize something tangible, yet her innate gentleness forcibly quelled the urge.
"Nn…"
Cecilia emitted a soft, plaintive whimper, as though seeking to disperse all her pent-up turmoil into the air.
She longed to weep, yet for reasons unknown, no tears would come.
At that instant, the arm encircling her waist tightened with gentle reassurance. The man supporting her guided her head to rest upon his shoulder and murmured:
"Do not fear. I am here. And from this day forward, I always shall be."
He patted her back in soothing rhythm, coaxing her rigid frame to soften.
Cecilia's breathing gradually steadied. Listening to the man's voice, her restless heart began to quiet.
"Where… is this…?"
At last, she found her own voice—slightly hoarse, fragile.
"This is Schicksal, the place where you once belonged. Welcome home, Cecilia Schariac."
What is Schicksal?
My name… is Cecilia Schariac?
"You may not recall these things clearly yet," the man continued softly. "But that is all right. I will guide you as you adjust to this new world."
"You are…?"
Gratitude and bewilderment mingled in Cecilia's exquisite eyes as she posed the question in a hushed tone.
She desperately wished to summon the name of the man before her, but clearly could not.
Yet some subconscious instinct compelled her to regard him with reverence—even her choice of pronoun carried deference.
"My name is Otto Apocalypse. I am your friend," the man replied with a warm smile. "Hm, given your present state, let us not force you to dredge up memories of me just yet."
Cecilia nodded faintly. She had indeed been straining to unearth moments shared with him.
"Simply call me Onii-sama—that is what you once called me. Do not rush your memories' return. I will help you reclaim them, little by little."