The Beginning

As the executioner's blade descended, I couldn't help but feel a surge of disbelief wash over me. How had it come to this? How had the Duke of Felliz Kingdom, once hailed as the savior of the empire, fallen so far?

"Duke of Felliz Kingdom, the savior of the empire, the person who helped to make the empire grow and win every battle, the pride of the kingdom. It's such a shame to see you here, being punished after what you've done" The words of the King of Bellana echoed in my mind, his voice dripping with condemnation and regret. He, the very man who had once praised my every triumph, now stood as the arbiter of my downfall.

"I hope I can still meet you again in this lifetime. And by that time, you have already corrected your mistake," his words lingered in the air, weighted with meaning and a glimmer of hope for redemption.

But as the punishment commenced, I found myself grappling with a truth that eluded me until the very end. What mistake had I made? What transgression had led to my undoing, stripping me of my status and immunity?

As the sword fell and my head was raised proudly by the soldier, I couldn't help but wonder if my loyalty to the empire had been in vain. Had I truly served the greater good, or had I unwittingly become the instrument of my own demise?

In the final moments before oblivion claimed me, I vowed to uncover the truth, to seek out the answers that had eluded me in life. For even in death, the Duke of Felliz Kingdom would not rest until justice was served and his legacy redeemed.

June of the year 152 dawned upon the kingdom, its golden rays filtering through the windows of the Duke's grand estate. Yet, amidst the tranquility of the morning, a sense of urgency stirred within the walls.

"Master, master!" Jon, the youthful butler, hurried to his master's bedroom, his steps quick and purposeful.

"Masterrrr," he called out playfully, his youthful energy palpable. At just 19 years old, Jon defied convention as a butler younger than his master, yet his efficiency and responsibility belied his age.

The Duke stirred from his slumber with a gasp, his eyes wide with confusion as he beheld Jon's presence.

"Master? Are you okay? Here, drink this water first," Jon offered, his concern evident in his words.

The Duke's brows furrowed in bewilderment as he regarded Jon. "What are you doing here? You have been killed already, right?" he questioned, the memory of his own demise still fresh in his mind.

"My master hasn't killed me yet. So I am still alive. When are you going to kill me, master?" Jon's words held a playful edge, though beneath the jest lay a deeper truth.

Adopted by the Duke at the tender age of 15, Jon bore witness to the downfall of his homeland, Eliasce, a kingdom of half-humans and half-elves. He was the sole survivor of the ruins, a testament to the devastation wrought upon his people.

The Duke took Jon under his wing, recognizing something special within the young boy. What began as a simple act of compassion evolved into a bond forged in the fires of adversity. Jon's resilience, his healing abilities, his swiftness, and culinary skills—all traits inherited from his Eliasce heritage—proved invaluable to the Duke.

In Eliasce, intelligence and camaraderie flourished, the kingdom known for its delectable cuisine and the harmonious coexistence of its inhabitants. Yet, their peaceful nature left them vulnerable to outside threats, a fact the Duke witnessed firsthand as he fought to protect Jon and preserve his legacy.

As Jon playfully bantered with his master, the echoes of their shared past resonated between them, a reminder of the bonds that bound them together and the trials they had overcome. In the face of uncertainty, they found solace in each other's company, united in their quest for redemption and the promise of a brighter future.

"Right. I am the only one who will kill you," the Duke's words carried a weight of unspoken regret as he remembered the tragic demise of Jon. It was not his hand that had brought about Jon's end, but that of the youngest prince, a fact that filled the Duke with envy. The prince, who idolized the Duke and longed to emulate his strength, had taken Jon's life, robbing the Duke of the companionship he held dear.

Despite his stoic demeanor, the Duke harbored a deep affection for Jon, viewing him as a surrogate brother. Though he had never voiced these sentiments aloud, the bond between them was undeniable, forged through shared trials and triumphs.

"Right, master. So, how's my master's sleep? Did you dream good? Did you have a nightmare?" Jon's cheerful voice broke through the Duke's reverie, drawing him back to the present moment.

"My dream felt real. Jon, do you believe in going back to the past?" the Duke inquired, his thoughts drifting to the possibility of altering the course of history.

"A time traveler?" Jon's eyes widened in curiosity, his youthful enthusiasm sparking to life at the mention of such a fantastical concept.

"No, it is not a time traveler. Because time travelers have control to go to which event they want. Just, going back," the Duke clarified, his mind consumed by the notion of revisiting the past.

"Hmm, a reincarnation?" Jon ventured, his curiosity piqued by the Duke's cryptic musings.

"No, argh. Never mind. What year are we?" the Duke redirected the conversation, seeking to ground himself in the present.

"Year 152, master. And today is your appointment on choosing your princess. The love of your life. The girl who will make this castle turn pink," Jon remarked dreamily, his thoughts drifting to romantic notions of love and companionship.

"I'll tell you, shut up with those thoughts of yours. I have more important things to do than wasting my time choosing a bride," the Duke snapped, his demeanor cold and dismissive.

"Aww, but what's more important than choosing a bride? Don't you want to fall in love, master? They say that falling in love is the best thing that will happen to a person's life. The best moment in your lifetime. Oh, wait a minute... don't tell me, master, you don't want to choose a bride because you want to choose a groom—" Jon's jest was cut short as a sharp sword was pointed at his neck, the threat of violence hanging in the air. A gulp escaped Jon's lips, the reality of his precarious situation sinking in.

"Hehe, I am just kidding, master," Jon quickly reassured, his playful demeanor returning in the face of the Duke's stern reaction.

"I don't like your choice of words. Bring my breakfast in the library. And look for the books about time traveling, reincarnation, and anything that is related to going back to the past," the Duke instructed, his mind consumed by thoughts of unraveling the mystery surrounding his sudden return to the past.

"Yes, master," Jon replied obediently, darting off to fulfill his master's request with swift efficiency.

As the Duke pondered his circumstances, the weight of the king's cryptic words bore down upon him. "Year 152, 10 years back from the future? Why did I come back? I am dead already, right?" he whispered to himself, his thoughts swirling with confusion and uncertainty.

Then, like a bolt of lightning, the king's parting words echoed in his mind: "I hope, I can still meet you in the next life. And by that time, you have already corrected your mistake."

A mistake? What mistake could the king be referring to? The Duke's brow furrowed in deep contemplation as he struggled to make sense of his predicament. Had the king played a role in his return to the past? And if so, what did he need to correct? What sins of his past had led to such a severe punishment?

Determined to uncover the truth, the Duke set about his morning routine, the anticipation of finding answers driving him forward. With each step, he resolved to scour the library for clues, hoping that the books within its walls held the key to unlocking the secrets of his past and charting a new course for his future.

"Master, I've prepared everything. I looked for all the books that are related to the subject you wanted to know. But may I know why you are looking for these books, master? For what I know, my master doesn't like to read books at all. I've never seen you reading books, master," Jon inquired, his curiosity piqued by the Duke's sudden interest in literature.

"Do I look stupid to you?" the Duke retorted coldly, his tone cutting through the air like a knife.

"Uhh, that's not what I meant, master. It's just that you never care about fantasies. You don't even believe me when I told you that I am a half-elf. You also didn't believe me when I told you I can heal people's wounds. Because you said it was nonexistent until I showed you," Jon explained, his words tinged with frustration.

"Shut up," the Duke snapped, cutting off Jon's protest with a sharp command. Jon shrugged it off, attributing his master's demeanor to simply waking up on the wrong side of the bed.

As lunchtime arrived, Jon brought the food to the Duke, who remained engrossed in his research in the library. Night fell, yet the Duke showed no signs of relenting in his pursuit of knowledge.

"Master, I allotted this time for you to choose your wife. Huhu, you just wasted it on this research. Please at least try to scan the profiles of the women that I suggested for you to become your wife. All the candidates I've chosen went through a thorough process," Jon pleaded, but the Duke remained unmoved, his focus unwavering as he clutched the folders of potential candidates for his future bride.

Ignoring Jon's entreaties, the Duke delved deeper into the mysteries contained within the pages of the books, determined to uncover the truth that eluded him.

"Uhm, maybe while you're eating dinner, right, master? Have time to at least scroll them while having dinner. I promise you won't—"

"Shut up, Jon," the Duke interrupted calmly, though Jon recognized it as a warning.

Jon's expression fell, resembling a rejected puppy seeking solace from its mother.

"Argh, there is no answer anywhere I read. Jon, tell me what you know about time travel," the Duke requested, frustration evident in his voice.

"Uh, can I know the context, master? Because even if I tell you anything about it, if it doesn't answer the question you have in your mind, I don't think it will give you peace," Jon replied cautiously, sensing the weight of the Duke's inquiry.

The Duke proceeded to confide in Jon, revealing the depths of his uncertainty and the unsettling visions of the future that plagued his mind. Jon listened intently, his loyalty unwavering even in the face of such extraordinary circumstances. After Jon's death in the future, all the secrets they shared were buried with him, a testament to the bond they shared and the trust they held in each other.

"Ahh, so you mean, master, you have seen the future by now?" Jon deduced after the Duke finished his story.

"Yes, it looks like that. I don't know if it is real or just a dream. But it felt real. Everything. And I am sure that I went back in time. The time that maybe I can correct. But I don't know what it is and where to start," the Duke admitted, a hint of desperation creeping into his tone.

"Ahh, if that's the case, master, the books you've asked me to find are not really the books you needed," Jon realized, his mind racing with possibilities.

"What do you mean?" the Duke inquired, his interest piqued by Jon's revelation.

"I have heard from the elders in our village about that story. They call it traverse. They said that there are a few people who are chosen to correct their mistake and God will bring them back to the past. Wait, let me find you the right book," Jon explained, his voice laced with a sense of determination.

Jon made his way to the library, searching diligently for the book that held the answers his master sought. After a few moments, he returned with a tome titled 'The Traverse,' authored by someone from their town who purportedly possessed extensive knowledge about traversing through time.

"Here, master. 'The Traverse.' I believe that the writer of this book is from our town. Who knows much about going back to the past. I hope it will answer your question," Jon handed the book to the Duke, his hope evident in his eyes.

The Duke delved into the pages of the book, immersing himself in its contents as he sought to unravel the mysteries of his past and the purpose behind his return to the present.

As the night wore on, Jon's patience waned, his boredom palpable as he idly played with whatever objects lay nearby. Yet, despite the passage of time, the Duke remained absorbed in his reading, his focus unbroken.

Then, suddenly, a loud sound broke the silence of the library as the Duke closed the book with finality. Jon jolted from his reverie, his senses sharpened by the abrupt noise.

"Master, what happened?" Jon inquired, his curiosity piqued by the Duke's sudden action.

"I still don't know what mistake I should correct. I understand the point of this traverse thing. But what is my mistake?" the Duke admitted, frustration evident in his voice.

"Hmm, you said master that you're from the future, right?" Jon questioned, his mind racing with possibilities.

"Yes. So?"

"Then you've known what will happen by tomorrow. Why don't we try to do the opposite way of what happened in the future?" Jon suggested, his voice tinged with hope.

"What do you mean?" the Duke inquired, intrigued by Jon's proposal.

"Master, think about this, aren't you curious as to why you traversed in this time? Not when you were little, or newborn? Not when you first took the position as a duke," Jon prompted, his words sparking a flicker of realization in the Duke's mind.

"I didn't even tell you that I traversed in this time. How did you know that this is the time I just go back?" the Duke questioned, surprised by Jon's insight.

"I have a hunch. Since you've talked about this time travel thing, I was thinking that maybe you just traversed early in the morning, the moment when I woke you up. Because you've been acting weird since then. Usually, when you wake up, you will throw me daggers for me to stop entering your room. I even memorized each way you throw the daggers at me. But this morning, you were surprised. At first, I just shrugged it off and thought that you woke up on the wrong side of the bed. But then I realized that you always wake up on the wrong side of the bed. So, this time must be the good side, since you never threatened me. Anyway, to answer the question, master, usually, the people who traverse in a particular time are the ones who need to correct a mistake before they committed it," Jon explained, his reasoning sound and logical.

"I still don't understand," the Duke admitted, his frustration mounting as he struggled to grasp Jon's reasoning.

"Simple as this, master. You came back here, back at the age of 24 years old, back at the time that you need to find a partner," Jon explained patiently, his tone earnest.

"Don't you dare to pull a trick on me, Jon," the Duke warned, his skepticism evident.

"I am not, master. I am serious. In the future, have you chosen a bride-to-be?" Jon inquired, his eyes searching the Duke's for any hint of confirmation.

"No," the Duke responded curtly, his gaze unwavering.

"See? Maybe you need to choose a bride-to-be based on the candidates I've picked for yo—" Jon's words were cut short as a sharp sword once again met his neck, the Duke's warning clear.

"Didn't I tell you already that I have no interest in that thing," the Duke reiterated, his patience wearing thin.

"M-m-master, hear me out first. This is just an idea. Because based on the conversation I heard from the elders when I was a child, those who traverse back in a particular time, means that they need to correct the mistake from that. You have said that you didn't pick before for your bride-to-be. So maybe, you were back in this time, to pick a bride. You should pick a bride and we'll see the things that have changed after that," Jon implored, his conviction unwavering despite the Duke's reluctance.

"And what if this one fails?" the Duke questioned, his uncertainty echoing in the quiet of the room.

"Then you can kill me. I will sacrifice my life for this. All I wanted is to help my master. As a person half-elf who has known and heard a story about this. There is nothing wrong with trying it out, master. You just told me you don't know where you committed a mistake. Maybe not choosing a bride is—"

"Is a mistake? Is that what you want to say?" the Duke interrupted, his voice laced with skepticism.

"No. I mean, maybe not choosing a bride influenced why you've traversed back here? It may not be the real mistake, but maybe it is part of the process and influenced that mistake you've done?" Jon clarified, his words resonating with a sense of understanding.

The Duke mulled over Jon's words, finding a sense of resonance in his explanation.

"Fine. I'll check out the folder of the brides you've wanted me to marry," the Duke conceded, his decision made. Jon felt a surge of relief wash over him, knowing that his efforts had not been in vain.

"Here is the folder—"

"Ah, no. I've changed my mind," the Duke interjected, his abrupt decision catching Jon off guard.

"Huh? But duk—" Jon's protest was cut short as the Duke's resolve remained unyielding, leaving Jon to wonder what change of heart had led to this sudden reversal.

"I am not interested in the ones you've chosen. I want you to find me this woman. She is the one I want to marry," the Duke declared, his tone firm and resolute.

Although Jon's efforts seemed to have gone to waste again, he couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness upon hearing the Duke's words. It meant that the Duke wasn't simply looking for a convenient marriage based on status or wealth. Instead, he sought a partner for love, someone who truly captured his heart.