Bailonz Street 13

If only they had saved Owen instead of saving me.

What if Liam had gone straight to Owen while fighting the Black King?

“O…wen.”

I murmured in a voice I barely recognized. Owen Cassfire barely moved his stiff lips to greet me.

“Ah, Miss Jane. You’re safe.”

I suddenly felt angry. Why are these people so kind, always worrying about others first? Is my safety what matters? Look at yourself. Shouldn’t you worry more about yourself? I wanted to say such things, but held back.

Liam knelt beside Owen, spreading his hands over Owen’s body. He seemed to be trying to move magical power to attempt some kind of healing.

I gently comforted Owen.

“Don’t speak anymore. You’ll be fine once we heal you.”

“No.”

Owen interrupted me and coughed heavily. His breathing became more unstable. His body shook violently before slowly steadying.

“This will only… prolong… the pain.”

His cracked glasses barely clung to the bridge of his nose. Owen removed them with trembling hands and raised his clouded golden eyes.

“…I told you. There’s always a way.”

“This was your way?”

“Had no… choice. If this much sacrifice… could banish the King… it’s cheap.”

To say burning one person’s life is cheap. Liam looked at Owen with an expression of complete incomprehension. Owen pressed his chest with one hand while coughing slightly.

“First time I’ve used… such a big spell. My word. The amount of protection, wrapped around the catalyst.”

“Owen.”

“Sit down. It’s not like you committed a crime. It was my choice.”

Finally, I sat down beside Owen along with Liam.

I’m scared. Especially as someone who has never experienced the death of someone close.

In life-threatening situations before, I could just turn back time. Plus, in the other world, there were only those who had passed away when I couldn’t remember. I thought experiencing numerous deaths while living would be a story of the distant future. Not now.

But I had now accepted this place as reality and lost my notebook by choice. I cannot avoid death by turning back time. I must live in the present.

I no longer had any way to save Owen. So all I could say was this:

“Don’t die.”

Owen grinned.

“I was planning… to live long, too. To officiate… your wedding.”

Ah, officiate? Not trying to be the best man?

Owen’s unexpected declaration made my emerging tears retreat. It seemed he had deliberately made a playful comment aiming for this effect. Liam showed a stern expression as if this wasn’t the time for such talk, and Herschel, standing behind us, grumbled:

“The godfather should officiate.”

“No, I’m saying I’ll do it.”

“Now, now.”

“This man has no manners!”

Herschel raised his eyebrows as if dumbfounded. ‘Manners?’n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

The spectacle of arguing over who would officiate a wedding with a dying man was unfolding before my eyes. I watched these two with an expression that couldn’t decide whether to cry or not.

After bickering with Herschel for a while, Owen looked at me with eyes containing traces of laughter. Light was gradually returning to his previously clouded eyes.

“Miss.”

“…Yes.”

“Death isn’t so sad.”

Owen’s pronunciation became gradually clearer. His voice gained strength.

If this had been when I knew nothing, I might have thought Owen was getting better. But not now. None of this meant he was recovering. My eyes and mind both knew. Rather.

Owen Cassfire’s final flame was burning here.

I could tell he had done his best and didn’t regret it. But I couldn’t understand how he could face his approaching death without fear and remain composed. Why wasn’t he afraid? The current Owen looked relieved, as if he had no regrets in life.

When I remained silent, unable to find words, Owen spoke as if comforting me.

“It’s rather like a new journey. Perhaps hundreds of years from now, I might be reborn. Some religions say so. Aren’t you curious about what lies beyond death?”

A dark void filled with black blood? Or my hometown’s sea? I can’t quite distinguish whether what I saw was during near-death or truly after death.

I moved my lips.

“…Plato?”

“Haha.”

“But it hurts. You shouldn’t have handled it alone. If you’d worked with others, at least…”

Owen slowly shook his head.

“The statue had a curse that would burn anyone who destroyed it. I didn’t want to burn all of Greenwich to death.”

Then why destroy it at all? I could have done something. Or even Liam. If you had told us about this, we would have found a way somehow.

“And you’re fine with dying?”

He spoke in a cheerful tone, winking.

“Ah, I am a sage. All sages have a duty to detect and neutralize threats in advance. It’s a bit scary, but it should be fun. I’m planning to bet on whether I’ll go to hell or heaven. I’ll bet my entire fortune on heaven…”

Liam slowly gripped Owen’s shoulder.

“Cassfire.”

“I get scared when you call me that.”

“…Owen.”

Owen showed a gentle smile.

“Congratulations on the marriage. I knew she’d accept, you fool.”

“…What good is a wedding without a best man?”

“Ah. Just put up my photo then.”

As sniffling sounds came from around us, I felt like crying too. As tears kept threatening to well up and I kept blinking them back, Herschel patted my shoulder comfortingly.

We should give Owen and Liam time to say goodbye. Owen’s body seemed to be holding up that much at least. I could see his magic holding his crumbling body together for its master’s final will. Liam’s shoulders shook with a sigh.

“Who turns a wedding into a funeral? These emotional Greenwich people will wail.”

“At least dress me nicely in my photo.”

“You’ll look like a cursed doll.”

“You’re really annoying.”

I ended up laughing a little at this banter. I shouldn’t laugh while crying.

Owen finally showed a relaxed expression. Then he earnestly pleaded with Herschel.

“Make sure to photograph Liam Moore if he cries at the wedding. Understand?”

“…I will.”

“Ah, Miss Jane. There’s something I must tell you before I go. If I don’t say this, I might burst open my coffin lid at the funeral out of frustration.”

I leaned slightly toward Owen. Holding my arm, Owen spoke with a mischievous expression.

“When Liam Moore cries, his nose runs first…”

“Hey!”

When Liam burst out, Owen opened his eyes wide.

“She needs to know!”

At this point, I began to doubt Owen’s condition. Of course, I knew he was truly dying, but seeing him spewing words frantically as if his head was either numb with pain or running wild, I couldn’t help but think ‘Why is he so energetic?’

Phew. After exhaling deeply, Owen quietly leaned back against the tree. His breathing began to slow as if he had used up all his energy.

Owen bid me farewell.

“Take care.”

“…”

As I remained speechless, he smiled and urged me.

“Say goodbye.”

“…Goodbye, Owen. Go carefully, so carefully.”

Owen Cassfire placed his glasses on the blackened grass. Perhaps these glasses had been like Owen’s shackles. They seemed to represent his position as a sage. Just removing those glasses made Owen look more relieved than anyone else present.

“When I die, the curse will stop. Keep the funeral simple. Ignore Greenwich’s protocols.”

“…But you’re the last Cassfire.”

“Ah, about that…”

As if his previous energy had never existed, his voice gradually diminished. I could sense his limit approaching.

“I’m sleepy.”

Owen murmured drowsily. He looked like someone preparing to fall asleep slowly. Hazily, as if sleep-talking, Owen repeated several times.

“In the Blemich house… …find. You understand?”

“Owen.”

“The Blemich house…”

And then his breathing stopped.

“Owen?”

I called his name cautiously. But Owen’s chest had ceased its rise and fall. His eyes were looking slightly downward, as if seeing something unknown to us.

Liam held Owen’s hand tightly for a while before setting it down. The Greenwich magicians closed their eyes and bowed their heads deeply. After a long silence with lowered eyes, Liam slowly spoke.

“Go.”

A young man who appeared to be the highest-ranking among them raised his head.

“…Tell Meridian.”

His tear-stained cheeks were visible. Forcing back his tears, he waited for Liam’s next words.

“That Cassfire has closed his eyes.”