From that day onward, whenever Leandro had a moment to spare, he found himself repeatedly recalling the inexplicable experience he had gone through that day.
He almost wished everything that had happened had been nothing more than an illusion or a delusion of his own.
To glimpse a fragment of a bleak future unknown to everyone else—what an unbearably heavy burden that was.
Yet the scratches his armor had suffered while fighting the mobs in the Labyrinth remained just as vivid even after he returned to Delcross.
More than anything, had the young man who had guided him safely back to Delcross not looked so strikingly like both the Holy Emperor and Empress Consort Lizabeth?
No one in the world could have doubted that they were family bound by blood.
Then what in the world could possibly happen in the future for Prince Morres to be wandering the Labyrinth alone in the Holy Emperor’s absence?
And if, as he had said, they would someday face an unprecedented enemy in the form of a high-ranking Demon King, could Delcross truly be said to have a future at all?
Of all those thoughts, this was the one that troubled Leandro most.
‘As with all prophecies, the moment I learned of that future, that future must have changed.’
Then what could he do right now?
If he tried hard enough somehow, might he also gain a chance to change such a bleak future?
And if…