A dull longsword and a heartbroken villager

No matter how much the World Will seems like an ordinary person in this conversation, she is ultimately not a living being.

She can understand feelings, but "exhaustion" is hard for her to comprehend.

The pain of constant repetition is something she would never understand, even if she could see through the hearts of all things.

"Yes, he has said he's tired many times," said the World Will.

"But he continued anyway."

"However, he gave up after only a few dozen attempts."

—"It has become like this."

“…” Bray didn’t respond. Only a few dozen times… He must have thought that way before.

Because they haven't experienced it, they make the number of times sound incredibly light and the descriptions seem so weightless.

"What do you think? If he gives up, what will you do?"

"If you're not going to continue, then what are you going to do?"

“I can’t answer that,” Bray said.

"I guess I'll only have the answer in my heart when the time comes."

"Aren't you ready yet?"

"Preparation? This kind of thing has nothing to do with preparation."

"How can you know the scenery along the way if you haven't even walked the road?"

"Are you trying to talk about philosophy?"

"..." Bray scanned his surroundings with dead fish eyes, wishing the world's will had a physical form, so he could glare at it a few times.

"Back then, someone brought ten humans to me."

"To prevent the extinction of their race, they created the ring using what I gave them."

—"Then, another you, found me all alone."

"—You used the power I gave you to reverse time and space in order to prevent the collapse of the entire world."

"Why did you find me but ask for nothing?"

"The other me... no, it's White Face. When he first approached you, did he ask for anything?"

For the world's will, searching for distant memories is effortless.

"No, you just talked to me and then left." The World Will told Bray about the past.

Bray was not surprised at all by this answer.

"So, isn't it perfectly normal that I don't ask you for anything?"

"What you said makes sense."

Yes, the first time was just like this, I didn't ask for anything, we were just having a conversation.

So it was to be expected that Bray didn't want anything.

However, engaging in dialogue with the will of the world is essentially the same as having the opportunity to have your wishes fulfilled.

This is the will of the world; all wishes can be fulfilled.

The moment you hold this, countless wishes probably come to mind for everyone.

Perhaps Bray could offer to become stronger, to restore Naruko's lifespan, to resurrect his deceased friends, or any other kind of wish...

If such an opportunity were to arise and one did not seize it, everyone would find it quite foolish and incomprehensible.

Unfortunately—

“So, that’s it,” Bray said casually.

He wasn't without desires, he just felt it was wrong to use her as a "wishing machine." "So why that dead fish eye when you made the request?" Dorothea grabbed the scholar's collar and lifted him up slightly.

It may be a little embarrassing to admit, but this scholar was indeed not as good as Dorothea.

"I don't know that either," the scholar simply shook his head.

Although he was called the "Prophet," he didn't know why Bray had been chosen.

“You’re lying,” Dorothea said coldly.

“You said it before, didn’t you? It’s the same as your guess. Now that things have come to this, why are you still saying you don’t know?” Dorothea glanced at Bray, who was separated from the group, and then stared at the “Prophet.”

"That's right, because when I saw him, I had a strong, unsettling sense of familiarity, so I felt like something had happened."

"There's no point in pressing me for specific reasons."

"I really don't know," the "prophet" explained helplessly.

A heavy atmosphere filled the air. Dorothea remained silent, and the "Prophet" simply watched her quietly as she grabbed his collar.

"What are you two arguing about?" However, Bray, who had been separated from the two just a few seconds ago, suddenly appeared next to them and asked in confusion.

"You... why did you suddenly come back again?" Dorothea let go of his hand and frowned at Bray.

"You're back?" Bray, who had been communicating with the world's will, had no idea that he had been isolated.

"Never mind, it's nothing." Dorothea noticed Bray's bewildered expression and felt a pang of emotion.

"Oh right, didn't you say you could witness the ring's creation?" Bray remembered something important and didn't press Dorothea for more details.

The scholar fell silent.

“That’s right, you mentioned it before, but we haven’t seen anything here.” Dorothea remembered it too after Bray’s reminder.

The scholar seemed to be pondering how to answer.

After a long while, he finally spoke slowly.

“You’ve come far too quickly.” The Prophet’s tone was somewhat subtle.

He hadn't expected that the two of them would be driving a magic car around this real world.

Compared to the Ten Craftsmen who walked, Bray and Dorothea would definitely be faster in their magic chariot.

This is quite awkward; they agreed to let the other person see the ring's creation, but they couldn't keep that promise.

"However, after you've spoken with the will of the world, you should know how the ring came to be," the scholar said, attempting to steer the conversation.

"I understand," Bray replied honestly, unaware of the scholar's intentions.

"The materials given by the world's will, the concepts I bestowed, and the techniques used by the Ten Craftsmen." The Prophet gave Bray a deep look.

"And then came the ring."

"However, the Ten Craftsmen are just ordinary people with no special skills. They would have trouble even surviving in the real world."

"It is truly a miracle that they were able to find the will of the world."

Not to mention the will to protect the world, there is also a golden seed.

“The Ten Craftsmen? We’ve finally seen a craftsman who’s given up on moving forward,” Dorothea said casually. She remembered there was also a craftsman who provided food.

"Give up? Only temporarily."

"During this process, more than one person gave up, but in the end they all came together."

“If they had given up, there would have been no ring,” the Prophet said, repeating himself.

“I actually hope they give up,” Dorothea said bluntly.

If those ten skilled craftsmen had given up, these people who uphold the precepts wouldn't have been forced into this fate.

The Prophet could not answer this question.

From the perspective of the person wearing the ring, it is indeed a curse.

However, without this ring, the future would be bleak, even darker than the Second Age.

“Not everyone has a savior’s heart,” he remarked.

“But I hope you do, I really hope so.” Seeing Bray and Dorothea, he knew that the choice for the ring had been made.

If both of them have a heart for saving the world, then that side is the best.

"Because you are people who uphold the precepts."

“I don’t have a ring,” Bray blurted out from the side.

Indeed, Bray said this with great confidence, having been told so many times that he was a man of the rites, yet he did not wear a ring.

I really hope everyone can understand.

"..." The Prophet was speechless for a moment. He hadn't really thought about how to respond to such a statement.

"Cough cough." He then coughed a few times to clear his throat.

"You have already read the core contents of this diary."

"That's it?" Dorothea said with dissatisfaction.

Admittedly, she and Bray had been inside for who knows how long.

However, they did not experience many events.

Those experiences alone are far from enough to understand this era.

"Do you intend to understand the entire Second Age?" The Prophet smiled.

"Is it not allowed?" Dead fish eyes looked at the "Prophet" in confusion.

“It’s not that it’s impossible, it’s that it’s not feasible.” The “Prophet” pushed up his glasses and said earnestly.

"This is an era that spans countless years."

“You are not from this era, and you will never be able to truly understand.”

“Unless you were born here.” He said, shaking his head.

"You've seen part of the truth of history, and that's enough."

"It is enough for those who read this diary to understand that there is still hope even in the darkest of times."

“That’s why I created this diary.” As he said this, the surrounding scenery distorted.

The space around the three of them suddenly transformed into a mountainous area, instead of the pure white space they had been in.

The roars of wild beasts, the chirping of birds, and the activity of translucent creatures on the mountainside.

And the "Prophet" stood there, facing Bray and Dorothea.

"You're making us leave the real world?" Dorothea asked.

"This isn't the real world either. If you really want to go, find your own way," the scholar said with a smile, looking at Dorothea.

"Hmph." Dorothea simply snorted in response.

“We’re leaving now; there’s nothing more to see,” said the Prophet.

Then the scenery began to collapse, like data being formatted, and gradually disappeared.

"Wait a minute!" Bray suddenly shouted.

"Can we jump to a specific time period?"

"A certain period of time?"

“Yes, I want to see one last thing,” Bray said earnestly.

---

The "prophet" is changing the course of this era, and he has agreed to Bray's request.

Although he didn't quite understand what the other person wanted to see, he wouldn't stop him since the other person wanted to read the diary.

"By the way, what did you wish for to the will of the world?"

“Nothing was promised,” Bray replied nonchalantly.

During the Second Age, the Bronze Age ruled the world for a very, very long time.

The Black Iron type was ravaged and barely survived; initially, it didn't even have the courage to resist.

It wasn't until everyone learned that the first person had successfully defeated the Bronze race that the passion for resistance was ignited.