So that was how it was.

Everything finally made sense.

Yihan’s shoulders slumped as he leaned forward, letting out a quiet sigh.

He’d been naive. Thinking he could kick back and enjoy an easy life after transmigrating to another world—he’d forgotten the unspoken rule. If you crossed worlds, trouble would find you. Slacking off and waiting to die? That’d be a disgrace to every transmigrator out there.

Clearly, his so-called "choice" of dreams was just another headache he couldn’t refuse. Exhaustion dragged him under every night, flinging him back into the past to face them again.

The only way out? Stay awake. But that was impossible. Push too hard, and he’d drop dead for good—no second chances.

His fingers traced the teacup on the table, over and over. Heavy-hearted, he asked, "If the Crimson Flame Witch is after me… any idea why?"

He’d considered telling Carola this secret. But after a moment’s thought, he held back. He still didn’t know her well enough. How would she react to the truth—that he time-jumped through dreams? Even if she believed him, she couldn’t follow him there. No help at all.

First, understand her. Uncover her secrets. Only then could he change anything.

Lia had been sealed for five years—a gap in time. Erase those years from the timeline… maybe the ending would shift.

But whether for better or worse? Yihan couldn’t say.

Carola shook her head sadly at his question. If she knew, she wouldn’t be waiting here for news. Even Yihan’s identity was just a gamble—a hunch with no solid proof he was the one the Crimson Flame Witch sought.

She could only guess from the Witch’s patterns: Lia’s obsession with finding Yihan burned fierce. As for her intentions? Carola forced optimism, hoping to soothe him. "Don’t dwell on it," she urged gently.

"You tell me to relax? Impossible." Morning light filled the room, but Yihan’s appetite had vanished. His mind replayed last night’s dream—Lia, power spiraling out of control, slung over his shoulder as he ran. Carola, the Witch Hunter, chasing them down. Battle about to erupt—then he woke. No clue what happened next. No way to know if that was the moment Carola sealed Lia away.

"Between you and the Crimson Flame Witch… who’s stronger?"

"You mean strength? Five years ago, definitely me. Now? I can barely hold my own against her." Carola shrugged, no regret in her voice.

"After you beat her five years back… did you seal her right away?"

"No. The townsfolk and mayor demanded I execute her on the spot. Standard treatment for Witches. I almost did… but then…" Her brow furrowed, pain flashing across her face. "Someone came. Begged me to spare the Witch. Give her a chance…"

Yihan shot upright, urgency sharpening his voice. "Did you agree?"

A possibility struck him—he might have been that someone. It fit his own instincts perfectly.

"Of course I refused… but damn it, I can’t remember—" Carola gripped her head, frustration boiling over. She tried to stand, stumbled, and crashed into the table. Teacup and teapot shattered on the floor.

Yihan barely noticed the mess. His eyes locked on her, desperate. "Carola, think. Anything important. Please."

"Ah—my head—"

"This matters. To me."

Before he finished, she snapped, face pale. "I can’t recall, Yihan! That power’s side effects… it ripped those memories out. I’m empty."

Yihan sank back into his chair, hollow. He’d clung to a trace of hope—maybe past-him had found a way to save Lia. A chance to rewrite her fate. But fate refused to cooperate. Carola only grew more pained, offering nothing useful.

Like being forced to replay a level from scratch. Bitterness flooded Yihan’s mouth.

As Carola’s memories faded, her strength slowly returned. She watched Yihan’s broken posture, worry plain on her face. "Are you alright?"

He shook his head.

"When will you leave?" she pressed.

"Haven’t decided…" His voice faded with his spirits.

While he hesitated, Carola’s world burned. *Haven’t decided?* The Crimson Flame Witch was at their doorstep! Why not vanish to some hole until the Sorceresses dealt with her? Must he wait until escape was impossible to wake up?

This indecision was nothing like the man she thought she knew. Had she really been so infatuated—mistaking him for that person, sharing a roof, begging him daily to flee?

Days of disappointment boiled over. Carola stood abruptly. Her ice-blue eyes blazed at his slumped form. She turned sharply, stomping toward the door without a backward glance.

After she left, Yihan sat alone until dusk. Only then did he rise and leave the courtyard.

He wandered aimlessly under the sunset glow, unsure where to go. Carola hadn’t returned. Normally, he wouldn’t worry—she always appeared the moment dinner hit the table, more punctual than clockwork.

But their harsh words had built a wall between them. Yihan realized their bond was thinner than he’d thought. She was an enigma, hiding secrets behind a helpful facade. He’d felt like a stand-in in her eyes all along.

*All in my head.*

He remembered the past’s Carola—ice magic dancing at her fingertips, ruthless against enemies. *That* was her true face.

The cheerful, joking girl? Just an act.

Passing a tavern, hunger finally pierced his gloom. He stepped inside, ordering roast beef and beer. He found a corner table and ate slowly.

The door creaked open again.

A tall figure in a hooded cloak entered. The hood shadowed their face, blurring gender. A few patrons glanced over, then lost interest.

Common enough in the south—likely just a traveler.

The tavern was half-empty, yet the figure walked straight to Yihan’s table. They loomed over him. "Mind if I join you?"

The muffled voice couldn’t hide its clear, sweet tone—young, female.

Normally, Yihan would’ve cleared the table, eager for company. But today, he lacked the heart for trouble. He gave a noncommittal nod.

She didn’t wait. Dragging a chair to his right, she sat close enough for their shoulders to brush. Her cloak parted slightly as she settled. From the corner of his eye, Yihan caught a glimpse of long, elegant legs sheathed in sheer black stockings—sleek, alluring.

Strands of hair escaped her hood. Yihan glanced once… and couldn’t look away.

They were dark gold.