27.
That’s right.
Perhaps the reason Lancel hadn’t sensed anything amiss before, or had dismissed any oddities he had noticed, was due to the accumulated misfortune and unhappiness that had festered within him over the years.
Could this be the world finally returning to normal? Had everything he had endured until now been nothing but sheer misfortune?
Perhaps he had been on the wrong path all along. Perhaps his own incompetence, ignorance, and utter laziness had been the cause of his self-destruction of this peaceful world?
Could it be that this world had actually been a decent place to live all along?
These self-deprecating thoughts occasionally tugged at his throat, choking him with doubt.
‘The regression is over. That’s a good thing, right? Yes, it’s a good thing.’
And so, Lancel tried to accept the abrupt end of his regression without any warning signs. He desperately tried to shake off the lingering unease in his heart.
But the moment the Emperor, who should have been dead by now, waved at him, the suspicion within him finally awakened.
Sunlight.
Cheers.
Festivals.
Showers of flowers.
Each paused moment of the scene was a festival as beautiful as a painting.
If he had a camera, he would have wanted to capture it as a masterpiece of his life.
‘No wonder things were going too well.’
It was almost heartbreaking. To think this dazzling world of fleeting beauty was an illusion.
Swoosh.
“Sir Lancel.”
Marigold linked her arm through Lancel’s and gently rested her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes.
“Everything was for you, Sir Lancel. Please remember that.”
Her voice was calm.
“Even if it’s fake, even if it’s an illusion, even if it’s all just a dream… as long as we’re happy, then that’s all that matters, right? If we can be together, that’s enough, isn’t it?”
“If I hadn’t known, I might have agreed. But I already know it’s all fake.”
“I can make you forget.”
Marigold’s voice was sincere.
“I can restore you to a state of complete ignorance.”
“Is that even possible?”
“I’ve lived for this alone. It’s not difficult at all.”
“That’s terrifying.”
How much have you grown, wizard Marigold?
“When did it start? I can’t even begin to guess the exact moment it all became fake.”
Marigold remained silent for a moment. When she finally spoke, her answer was beyond imagination.
“This entire life.”
“…?”
“I’ve been looping our memories back to the moment Sir Lancel and I first met, every thirty years.”
“The first time… was that when Baron Zenith revealed his airship?”
“Yes, you remember.”
Marigold’s voice was calm.
Her hands, clasped over Lancel’s palm, trembled slightly. Her heart pounded loudly, a steady yet rapid rhythm.
‘She created a loop within a loop?’
If their memories were reset each time, it wasn’t even a true regression.
He and Marigold were merely NPCs living out their lives within the loop, repeating the same thirty years without ever realizing that anything was amiss.
“Are you… Baron Zenith’s disciple?”
This meant that they had been endlessly repeating their first encounter.
“But I didn’t lie. I ensured that my original memories would never return unless Sir Lancel realized the truth. Until you became aware, my true self could never interfere with this world.”
‘So it was as I suspected.’
Lancel had anticipated this to some extent. Marigold wasn’t a particularly skilled liar; even a slight hint of deception would have been immediately obvious to Lancel.
If that were the case, Lancel would have realized the true nature of this world long ago. Perhaps even that was part of Marigold’s plan.
‘How terrifying… how utterly terrifying. Exactly how many times had the loop repeated?’ Lancel couldn’t bring himself to ask.
He feared the answer would be an unimaginable number, paralyzing him with dread.
“Now that I know, send me back.”
“No.”
“……”
Her response was a flat refusal.
“They say even rolling in filth is better than reality.”
“I’ve never heard that before.”
“It’s a saying from another world.”
“What a terrible world. How could such nonsense even circulate?”
Marigold’s grip on Lancel’s arm tightened, her embrace growing stronger. He could feel her possessiveness, her refusal to let him go.
“You can hate me all you want. I won’t send you back. Sir Lancel will understand why I’m doing this eventually.”
Thump!
In that instant, the surrounding scenery transformed.
“Aaaah!”
“S-save me!”
“Ugh!”
“Kyaaaah!”
Cheers turned into screams.
Flower petals became flames.
The festival devolved into chaos.
‘A war…’
The crowd’s screams pounded in Lancel’s ears.
The pungent, metallic scent of blood drifted through the soot-filled air, brushing past his nostrils.
Flower petals scattered across the ground had transformed into pools of blood, trickling along the capital’s paved streets.
The colossal war and massacre shaking the Capital of Rodnis filled his vision.
Amidst the chaos, familiar faces emerged: Baron Ibil Shen fleeing in terror; the maid, Hesti; Professor Laura, with an injured arm; the Seventh Prince collapsing from a sword wound; and countless other faces that he recognized from the academy.
The airship soaring above the capital was engulfed in flames, slowly plummeting to the ground.
Baron Zenith knelt in despair, gazing up at the sky.
Burning debris rained down along the airship’s tilting trajectory. Baron Zenith didn’t even flinch as the fiery fragments engulfed him.
His eyes, stained with despair, seemed to yearn for death to end this moment.
Bang!
Falling debris, scattering sparks, engulfed his figure.
Flames soared to the heavens, riding the updrafts to blanket the surrounding area.
“First.”
Marigold’s soft voice was barely a whisper.
Lancel’s eyes finally focused on two familiar figures.
Lancel, draped in a blood-soaked cloak, lay cradled in wizard Marigold’s arms. It was himself.
His entire body was covered in wounds, his strength utterly drained, lying limp as if he were about to close his eyes forever.
He weakly raised an arm to brush aside Marigold’s hair. Beneath the full moon, a small horn protruded from her head as tears streamed down her face.
“…Returning to reality,” he rasped, his voice hoarse.
Marigold’s body, clinging to Lancel’s arm, trembled violently. Overwhelmed by a trauma-like fear, she struggled to form each word.
“Second.”
And then…
The entire scene reverted to its original state.
“Waaaaah!”
The screams, flames, war, death, crashing airships, and even the full moon in the sky vanished as if they had never existed.
“His Majesty the Emperor is coming!”
“Long live His Majesty the Emperor!”
“Long live the Freesia Empire!”
In its place were cheers, flower petals, festivities, happiness, gracefully floating airships, and a dazzling sun. It was as if the world had been flipped upside down, its reflection replacing reality.
“…I keep imagining happiness.”
The shock of the contrast between the two scenes was truly overwhelming.
“Do you still believe the real world is better, Sir Lancel?”
Feeling Marigold’s trembling, Lancel quietly lowered his head.
The sandwich basket still sat at his feet.
Yes.
Perhaps this wasn’t an illusion after all.
The sandwiches Marigold had made early that morning, while battling a hangover and nodding off, must have been made with genuine sincerity.
At least in this version of the world, Lancel and she were real.
No matter how many times it repeated, Marigold remained Marigold. Across countless lifetimes, Marigold was still Marigold.
That’s why…
“Mary,” Lancel began.
“You already know what I’m going to say.”
Because he, too, was speaking from the heart.
“I won’t send you back.”
“Send me back.”
“Sir Lancel will understand why I’m doing this eventually.”
“You too, will come to know why I am doing this.”
28.
It wasn’t difficult to deduce why Marigold had trapped him in this illusion.
The reason was likely the vision of “Lancel’s death” she had just shown him.
“Even if it means dying when we return?”
“Yes. Even if it means dying.”
Come to think of it, there was a simple solution.
He could simply reveal that he was a regressor. He could just say, “We’ll see each other again soon, so why are you doing this?”
But that wouldn’t work on Marigold now.
“After all, we’ll…”
“I heard you,” she replied instantly.
“I already heard you. The promise that we’ll meet again.”
“…Did I say that?”
“This isn’t the first time Sir Lancel has realized this world isn’t real.”
“Really?”
“Though it’s the first time you’ve been discovered so early.”
She already possessed the power and means to keep Lancel bound to her.
“I… I wouldn’t send Sir Lancel to his death over such a trivial promise.”
Lancel immediately fell silent.
“To me, Sir Lancel exists only in this moment. Both of us can be eternally happy in this world. There’s no reason to wake from this dream. I know I’m being stubborn, but please grant me this one wish. Everything else doesn’t matter, just this one thing…”
“Master, every moment I’ve seen and heard while with you is my last.” Warrior Marigold’s voice echoed in Lancel’s mind, jolting him back to reality. Yes. For Marigold, this life was unique and irreplaceable.
Even if he regressed countless times, even if another regressor Marigold appeared before him again, there was no guarantee that the Marigold of this life would ever return.
Yet…
“My answer remains unchanged, Mary.”
Lancel intended to make her happy in the real world. A fake is a fake.
He wanted to prove that there was a better choice somewhere in this world than living in a dream. That was all.
“…….”
Marigold’s expression turned icy cold.
The color drained from her face, and a fleeting sadness crossed her features.
“If Sir Lancel says so…”
At that moment—
Thud—
The scenery shifted once more.
When Lancel regained his senses, he found himself in a familiar place.
‘The academy?’
More precisely, it was the academy’s training grounds—the very place where knights and wizards once sparred.
The only difference was that Lancel was no longer here as a “qualified professor.” In his hand, he gripped the hilt of a sharp sword.
‘Could it be…?’
Lancel raised his head.
“Sir Lancel,” Marigold said, facing him with her massive staff raised.
A terrifying magical aura simmered around her, causing dirt and pebbles to slowly orbit her like satellites.
It was like staring into the eye of a storm.
“Give me a chance to ‘persuade’ you.”
“…Persuade?”
Boom!
A blinding light erupted from the tip of Marigold’s staff, radiating outward in a single, devastating pulse.
Crack—Boom!
A bolt of lightning so intense it momentarily darkened the surroundings crashed down.
Ear-splitting thunder reverberated in a series of deafening roars.
With just one release of her magic, the entire area had been reduced to rubble. Marigold’s hair whipped wildly in the air as a scorching wind howled like a hurricane, and intermittent sparks crackled from the lightning.
“Yes, persuade.”
Marigold’s emerald eyes glowed with an eerie luminescence, a look she had never directed at Lancel before. She was truly prepared to unleash her full power against him.
“You’re the one who taught me that this works best on knights, Sir Lancel.”
‘Hmm.’
It was terrifying.
‘Can I even win this?’
Marigold, the continent’s strongest wizard.
Lancel, formerly the continent’s strongest knight.
To any observer, the odds were clearly in Marigold’s favor.
