Free Web NovelChapter 304: The Most Beloved
When Sonya went to answer, everyone, even Denzel, gathered around for a closer look. They glanced at the hooded figure in the painting, then back at Ashe.
"Isn't that you?"
Ashe said, "Yeah, I think so too. Which is why that can't be the correct answer."
Sonya had suspected as much, but she didn't understand where his confidence came from. "Why are you so sure?"
Ashe explained, "Because the question asks who you love most. Leaving me aside for a moment, what do you think the relationship is between the other two people and the lover?"
It took a moment for the group to realize that by lover, Ashe was referring to Sonya.
Dia looked at the middle-aged farm woman. "Could this be the lover's mother?"
Denzel added, "It could be an adoptive mother, a teacher, or an aunt. Regardless of her exact identity, her age suggests she likely raised the lover."
Sonya nodded. "Even without my memories, she feels familiar. She's almost certainly an elder."
Ashe gave a slight nod of agreement, then pointed to the dark-skinned girl. "And her?"
Denzel guessed, "The daughter?"
Sonya frowned slightly. "Maybe a younger sister?"
Suddenly, a shrill scream rang out. "Stop arguing!"
Dia doubled over in pain, pounding her head. The cleaner strands of her hair began to darken again as she cried out, her voice breaking. "Stop arguing, stop arguing, stop arguing! Stop arguing in my head!"
Dia had only stayed calm because Ashe's rapid, undeniable deductions had completely occupied her attention. She and her "sisters" had been so busy processing his information that they had no room to think for themselves. But the moment Ashe stepped back, those voices stirred like unsupervised children. A simple guess about the girl's identity had quickly spiraled into a chaotic argument that Dia could no longer endure.
"Bite."
Dia suddenly felt something pressed into her mouth. Instinctively, she clamped down hard. As the sensation of pressure spread through her, the scream trapped in her throat subsided. The tension in her body eased the moment her teeth sank in, and even the voices in her mind fell quiet.
Only then did Dia realize she had bitten Ashe's hand. She quickly let go, blowing on his skin in a panic. "S-sorry! I—"
"It's fine. It doesn't hurt. See? There isn't even a mark. You don't need to worry... This really is a strange place. It feels like drowning. The more you struggle, the more painful it becomes. The correct way to save yourself is to stay still and let someone pull you out. If you feel uncomfortable, just bite my hand."
Dia held onto Ashe's hand, hesitated for a moment, and then nodded. Embarrassed, she even licked the spot she had bitten. Ashe couldn't help but laugh. "You don't have to examine it so carefully. And if you feel unwell, little sister, you don't have to join the discussion. Just focus on biting my hand."
It took Dia a moment to realize that "little sister" referred to her. She was about to agree, but her expression turned uneasy again. She opened her mouth and pressed it against Ashe's hand, but did not bite. It looked more like she was searching for the best spot to sink her teeth in.
After a moment, she suddenly spoke, "We think... she is neither the lover's daughter nor her younger sister. She is the lover herself."
Perhaps as an apology, or perhaps to prove they were more than just a source of noise, the voices in Dia's mind had provided the answer and strongly urged her to speak it aloud.
Everyone froze, then carefully re-examined the small, dark-skinned girl in the painting before looking back at Sonya.
Tonight, Sonya wore a blue-and-white dress with a gold-trimmed red coat draped over her left shoulder. She looked like a dazzling protagonist on a stage. Compared to the girl in the painting, the difference was like a flower beside wild grass, too vast to reconcile at a glance.
Ashe said, "It's possible, but there isn't enough visual evidence."
Sonya shook her head firmly as well, instinctively rejecting the idea of linking that ugly little girl to herself.
Surprisingly, Denzel nodded. "Now that you mention it, there is a resemblance."
Sonya protested. "What part of us looks similar? Our eyes, nose, and mouth, nothing matches at all!"
That was exactly why they hadn't considered it at first. If this really was Sonya as a child, there should have been some recognizable continuity in her features. Even as people age, traces of the original face usually remain. Yet, while there were faint similarities, the differences were too glaring for anyone to connect them immediately.
Dia shook her head slightly. "The eyes are the same. She... we think this girl's eyes are exactly like yours, Sonya. They look alert, stubborn, and bright."
Sonya froze, then lowered her gaze to meet the girl's eyes in the painting. Her eyes... are like mine?
The moment their gazes overlapped, it was as if a Miracle had been triggered. Sonya blinked and found herself inside the world of the painting.
She stood at the edge of a forest just outside a small village. A stream wound its way from the woods toward the town, where the brilliance of the shining stars flowed in the water and danced across the pebbles. In the eyes of the children nearby, that light sparkled with a radiant glow.
Among them, a bitter argument was breaking out. Sonya couldn't catch every word, but their expressions and gestures made it obvious that, aside from tone and pauses, their conversation consisted entirely of personal insults and profanity.
It was not a fair fight. One side was a mixed group, while the other was a one-person army. The little girl challenged her peers alone, standing atop a rock with her hands on her hips, looking down on them. Her rapidly moving lips and the near-tearful faces of her opponents were proof enough that this was a one-sided massacre.
Before long, the other children were driven away by her words, but the victor took no joy in it. She stomped off in frustration to a large tree near the stream and sat down against its trunk. With a tap of her wrist device, she brought up a holographic screen and began watching educational videos.
Her clothes had faded to a dull gray from repeated washing. Her skin was dark from laboring under the sun, and she appeared poorly nourished. She was thinner and weaker than the other children, looking as if a gust of wind might blow her away. She casually pulled up a strand of foxtail grass and twirled it around her fingers. She looked practiced, as though she had spent countless hours playing with the grass this way.
The world offered her little beyond sunlight and nature, yet there was no confusion or despair in her eyes. Instead, she stared intently at the holographic video, her gaze growing sharper and more lively with every bit of knowledge. She hugged her knees tightly, curling into a ball as if to protect herself or hide away.
Suddenly, as if sensing something, the little girl turned toward Sonya. In her young, clear eyes, Sonya's rounded, distorted figure was reflected.
"Lover?"
Hearing Ashe's voice, Sonya snapped back to reality. She looked at the picture book again, but nothing unusual happened. It was as if her experience had been a mere illusion. After a moment of silence, Sonya nodded firmly. "Yes. That's me as a child."
No one knew how she could be so certain, but the respondent's word carried the highest authority. Ashe accepted the confirmation and said, "If that's the case, the answer has become quite obvious."
Denzel noted. "We've only deduced their identities. The question asks who the lover loves the most. How do you know the answer?"
Ashe explained, "'Love the most' is just a comparison of intensity. If it can be compared, we can eliminate options. For example, if one of these three had to die, who would you choose, lover?"
Sonya barely hesitated. "You."
"Good. Now, between the remaining two, if another had to die... who would you choose?"
Sonya's pupils widened. She turned and stared straight at him.
Dia said timidly, "That doesn't seem right. After all, we have no memories now. If we did, maybe we would make different choices—"
Ashe spread his hands. "We've lost our memories, not changed our personalities. If we need memory as a variable just to find the answer, then this discussion is meaningless. Besides, memory isn't fixed. Personality is what shapes memory."
Under the doubtful gazes of the others, which seemed to say, What nonsense are you talking about? Ashe explained, "Memory is a deeply subjective and ambiguous form of information. When you hate someone, you tend to ignore their strengths and only remember their flaws. When you like someone, you naturally overlook their weaknesses.
"If you have an optimistic personality, you won't dwell on painful things. If you are pessimistic, you won't retain life's small joys.
"Love and the most loved are completely different concepts. Memory can make you love someone through accumulated feelings and emotional investment. But memory cannot change who you love the most, because the most loved is the one you are willing to give everything for, even to the point of reshaping your own personality to suit them.
"So I believe the answer, Lover Sonya, will not change whether memory exists or not. You already made that choice long ago. To protect your most loved one, you must have already reshaped your memory and adjusted your personality."
Ashe pulled Dia to his side, then gestured for Denzel to turn around with him. "You don't need to answer my question out loud. It's a bit self-deceptive, but we won't look at your choice. Please, don't worry about us. Just answer as truthfully as possible."
Sonya spoke calmly, "There's no need for that. I don't know you, so why should I care what you think? The Knight is right. Before entering the cabin, I had already decided who I loved the most. My memory, my personality, and everything about me exist only to ensure that person lives a better life.
"So, Swordswoman, this is my answer. The person I love most is that little girl."
Phantom Sonya spoke up, "I saw you all discussing so enthusiastically that I didn't want to interrupt. According to the rules, each question is tied to one of your treasures. A wrong answer means it is lost immediately, while a correct answer returns it doubled. The treasure bound to this question is your swordsmanship level. Even without your memories, you understand the value of that, don't you?"
Sonya's expression remained unchanged. "My answer remains the same."
"Good," Phantom Sonya said crisply. "You are correct."
With a flick of her finger, two golden streams of light entered Sonya's body. "These are your swordsmanship skills. Your reward is an equivalent level of Time Class mastery."
Before Sonya could fully process the reward, Phantom Sonya turned the page of the picture book. "Second question. Among these three people, who do you hate the most?"
As before, three images appeared. They showed a disheveled woman with dark circles under her eyes, resting her feet on a desk with a sword at her side, a student in beautiful clothes, applying makeup before a mirror, and a woman in pure white stockings and a short-skirted uniform. She appeared dignified, elegant, and kind. Most importantly, her face was identical to Dia's.
Dia blinked and pointed at the white-clothed version of herself. "First, let's eliminate the wrong option—"
Ashe grabbed her wrist. "No, don't eliminate her yet. I think she might actually be the correct answer."
