15.
Another year had passed since leaving Porland.
During that time, Marigold had turned twenty.
“It’s hot! The sand is so hot!”
“Walking faster might help.”
“Ouch! Ouch, ouch!”
“Such a fuss.”
A week in the Ritten Desert, which connects the central and western parts of the continent.
“Fireflies. These are fireflies. Hmm… but when you catch them and look closely, they’re just bugs.”
“What did you expect?”
“I imagined something cuter… But they’re just bugs.”
“These are actually quite cute, compared to the really ugly ones.”
A day in the village that raises fireflies, known as the Glowing Forest.
“Haaaaah…”
“This is nice…”
“It really is…”
“If it were closer, I’d come more often.”
“I almost want to live here…”
“It’s too humid for that.”
“You always say that.”
A week spent in a volcanic region with natural hot springs.
“Take off your clothes.”
“Huh?!”
“If you don’t want to freeze to death, then hurry up.”
“I… I like your assertive side, Sir Lancel.”
“What are you talking about?”
After camping for two days in a blizzard, they finally crossed the mountain range.
“You’re the hero of our village!”
“The hero who saved my daughter!”
“Carve the names of Mary and Lancel on the monument!”
Four days were spent helping a small village plagued by barbarians, where they were treated as heroes.
“Sir Lancel…”
On a flower-covered hill in a land reclaimed by spring, Lancel spent a day with Marigold, who kept turning to look back at him.
“Sir Lancel!”
“Sir Lancel.”
“…Sir Lancel.”
“Hehehe, Sir Lancel!”
‘Where is the Demon King …?’
Was this truly a journey to find the Demon King?
Amidst the memories he shared with Marigold, Lancel felt the Demon King growing increasingly distant and indistinct.
“The Demon King! According to prophecy, he’s the being who will one day appear and destroy this continent!”
“The Demon King? If such a thing exists, wouldn’t it be our Lord? He taxes us for every bucket of water we draw from the well—truly terrifying! Damn him!”
“Demon King or no Demon King, just get some food out here. I’m starving!”
Looking back, it was ironic to expect any villager on this continent to know more about the Demon King than Lancel himself, who had lived for centuries.
At best, the Demon King was a figure from ancient myths, a terrifying entity capable of overturning the entire continent—nothing more than an abstract tale.
The villagers called the occasional plagues “the Demon King.”
The farmer pulling weeds in the wheat field claimed the one who commanded the locust swarms was the Demon King.
The mercenaries riding in the wagon insisted the Demon King was some member of the Empire who exploited them mercilessly before driving them to their deaths to save money.
In short, everything bad was the work of the Demon King.
‘How could we possibly find such a metaphysical being?’
Looking back, it had been nothing more than a journey with Marigold.
“I feel a little disappointed,” Marigold murmured.
“They said this anemone flower field is only visible during this season. What a shame it’s already fading.”
“It was even more vast than the rumors claimed.”
“Ugh, if only we’d come sooner…”
As the sun set over the endless flower field, Marigold wore a wistful expression.
The flowers adorning her braided hair gradually scattered in the breeze as time passed.
“We can always come back next time, right?” Lancel said, placing a hand on the crown of her head.
She smiled silently in response.
“…?”
At the end of every journey, Marigold always seemed to feel a lingering sense of regret, even though she knew she could return anytime she wished.
‘Is it because I lack experience as a regressor? Later on, I’ll probably get so used to it that I’ll even grow tired of it…’
Lancel found Marigold’s habit of savoring every moment with such sweetness a little strange. Having lived for so long, he had unconsciously grown detached and jaded.
‘So, just because we’re both regressors doesn’t mean we’re the same kind of person?’
He wasn’t sure.
“Shall we get going?”
“Yes.”
============
—July 4, 822 of the Imperial Calendar. Weather: Cloudy with occasional rain.
—On a day when summer was approaching, Marigold finally returned to her homeland. The place where all her happiness resided and where all her sorrows slumbered. Marigold had returned to her beloved home.
※Though no one who remembered her remained, the lands of Countess Marigold welcomed her back exactly as she remembered them. Dignity has gone Up! Morality, Faith, and Condition have gone Down.
============
After a journey lasting over a year and several months, they finally reached Marigold’s hometown.
“Blonde hair and green eyes!”
A knight rushed toward them as soon as they entered the village.
“Are you another woman here to offer yourself to His Highness the First Prince for the night?!”
Before he could finish speaking, Lancel’s kick slammed into the knight’s chest.
“Ugh!”
16.
“How dare you attack the knight guarding this village…!”
The fallen knight scrambled to his feet.
“Ugh!”
Before he could react, Lancel’s foot struck again, sending him tumbling backward across the floor several times.
“Who was the one spouting nonsense for my fiancée to hear? Who was the one asking for a night with whom?”
“W-wait, I didn’t know! I swear, I didn’t know she was your fiancée!”
The knight flinched and curled up as Lancel moved to strike again.
The First Prince and Marigold. Even the Lancel of the past had tried to pair them together, but now the thought was utterly horrifying.
“If she’s your fiancée, you should be more careful with her. There are plenty of people in this region searching for someone with her hair and eye color these days.”
Lancel and Marigold exchanged glances.
“My hair color?”
“Yes, exactly!”
Golden hair and emerald-green eyes.
This wasn’t an uncommon trait; it was quite typical among those of northern continental descent.
One might even call it ordinary.
“His Highness the First Prince happens to be searching for a woman who looks exactly like your fiancée.”
The First Prince.
‘Delphi Aaron Freesia?’
Lancel had unpleasant memories of him. In a previous iteration, Delphi had pierced Marigold’s heart. Though Lancel had repaid him in kind, he still felt no sense of satisfaction.
“As if the First Prince has nothing better to do than seek out some backwater village girl who looks like that for a one-night stand. Even a stray dog wouldn’t believe such nonsense. Those nobles can have any woman they desire at their side.”
The knight fell silent at Lancel’s voice.
“I… I didn’t spread the rumor. Why are you blaming me?”
“Because you’re spouting nonsense.”
Lancel raised his foot as if to kick again, and the knight turned tail and fled in a panic.
“Where did this ridiculous rumor even come from?”
“A strange rumor indeed,” Marigold replied awkwardly, grabbing Lancel’s arm. “Let’s find lodging first, Sir Lancel.”
The same scene repeated itself at the village inn.
“Blonde hair! Green eyes!”
“What?!”
“It’s true!”
“There’s another one!”
And not just one person, but a whole group.
The bustling inn suddenly fell silent as everyone turned to stare at Marigold, rising to their feet in unison.
After knocking down the two or three men who had foolishly approached them, the atmosphere finally calmed down.
“Ugh…!”
“My… my shoulder… my shoulder…!”
Several thugs groaned around the shattered remains of the table.
“Consider the broken table settled with this,” Lancel said, approaching the innkeeper and handing him five silver coins. The innkeeper’s tearful expression instantly brightened.
“Ahem. You seem to be travellers, so don’t take this too strangely. There’s just a plague going around this region that makes people go berserk at the sight of blonde women with green eyes.”
“What a novel plague… Is it because of that rumor about being able to form some connection with the First Prince?”
“You’ve already heard, I see. Well, you wouldn’t have made it here unscathed otherwise.”
“Give me a beer too!”
“Beer’s on the house. I’ve already been paid handsomely in silver, so it’s the least I can do.”
The innkeeper gave Marigold a thumbs-up at her order.
“I don’t believe it myself, but plenty of others do. There are even lunatics kidnapping women, trying to take them away.”
As he served the food and beer, he sidled over to sit next to Lancel.
“Shh. Listen carefully—this is for your fiancée’s sake.”
He suddenly lowered his voice.
“There are over a thousand knights and mercenaries swarming this region right now. All here on His Highness the First Prince’s orders, causing chaos.”
The innkeeper glanced around nervously before speaking again.
“From what I’ve seen, there aren’t many gentlemen among them. Knights and mercenaries alike are practically drooling over the rewards. If your precious fiancée catches their eye…”
He trailed off, leaving the implication hanging in the air.
“Just so you know, women taken to the First Prince are said to be sent as far as the Empire’s distant islands. You wouldn’t see her again for years, at least. I’m only telling you this because you young, generous fellows might make a mistake. Take it to heart.”
As the innkeeper retreated, Lancel pondered the meaning of his words.
‘So the First Prince is searching for Marigold.’
There was no other reason for him to go to such lengths.
‘How did he find out?’
This was the first time such a thing had happened in dozens of regressions.
Marigold was supposed to be dead.
Eleven years ago, when she was just ten years old, she had supposedly perished in a fire that consumed her entire household—at least, that was the official story.
Naturally, the Imperial Family had no reason to actively search for her. That is, until they learned she was alive and well, sipping beer in this very tavern.
If Marigold falls into the First Prince’s hands…
Lancel already knew the outcome.
The First Prince intended to personally confirm Marigold’s death.
‘I need to get out of here, fast.’
Lancel resolved to leave this region as soon as the night was over.
.
.
.
“Here.”
“Tea?”
That evening, Lancel took a sip of the tea Marigold offered him. The aroma was strangely familiar, as if he’d tasted it somewhere before.
“How is it?”
“Hmm.”
As Lancel racked his memory, Marigold spoke again.
“It’s a specialty tea from the Dobern region.”
“Ah.”
He had been tricked.
That night, Lancel fell into another deep sleep.
When he opened his eyes, the inn room was empty.
“Mary?”
His voice echoed in the deserted room. The thought that she might have just stepped out for a moment vanished quickly.
All of Marigold’s belongings were gone—her backpack, armor, even the pouch she used to carry salt and spices.
Only a single note remained.
===========
—Don’t look for me.
To my Sir Lancel.
From, “Marigold Curtain Marigold.”
===========
Her true name was inscribed there—not the false name “Mary Mary,” but the name she had
used when she lived as the daughter of the Marigold family.
“…I knew something was off.”
He crumpled the note in his fist. The cheap wedding ring on his ring finger glinted.
“I won’t forgive you, Marigold.”
‘Don’t think this will end with just a flick on the forehead this time.’
Lancel began grinding his teeth.
It is very different for Marigold. Even as she regress her memories are severely disjointed, as every version of her lead a vastly different life. All that time alive and only now she got to spend time like this with Lancel. As rare as this is it made sense for her to feel that way