Chapter 8
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: My Own Stigma
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I met the Lady.
That alone turned my daily routine upside down.
The Lady I hadn't seen in ages, Ser Noxia.
Even though she was still young, she already possessed an outstanding beauty that foretold her future, brimming with spirit.
She was, without a doubt, the most ideal lady in this world.
Even now, proposals were surely flying in from all directions.
There were just too many sleazy bastards eyeing her, despite her young age.
Of course, the Lady would soon personally smash those proposals to pieces in spectacular fashion.
Still, I didn't like the idea of her being eyed up right now.
'More importantly, the formal speech.'
Back in her childhood, when her spirit toward the world was still lacking.
The Lady insisted on using formal speech with everyone, no matter who they were.
This was something the Ban Pellion Ducal Family had drilled into her.
In the Empire, women occupied a position riddled with all sorts of restrictions.
A medieval backdrop.
Even for nobles, women's rights were brutally crushed unless they were imperial princesses.
No matter how exceptional their talent or fame, they could never become the head of the family.
This held true even for the Ban Pellion Ducal Family, which valued skill above all.
The Ban Pellion Ducal Family had long produced outstanding talents.
Everyone affiliated with it, from knights upward, was a freakish monster in their own right.
It was to the point where people said the Empire's strength came from the Ban Pellions.
But that was only ever about the men.
To the Ban Pellion Ducal Family, women were merely tools for political marriages with other houses.
The youngest.
And a woman, to boot.
With those two factors combined, Ser Noxia had virtually no standing in the Ban Pellion Ducal Family.
What good was talent?
No one in the family acknowledged it anyway.
This was the reason she began to twist little by little in her youth.
And it was also why, after becoming the Witch of Reverse Heaven, she trampled the Ban Pellion Ducal Family under her own feet.
'It took her a long time to drop the formal speech, too.'
Right now, the Lady was still bound by the family.
Next time we met, it might be good to subtly set some conditions and propose it step by step.
'Man, this is so romance-fantasy cliché.'
A plot where strict constraints on women are overcome to change the world.
It was a dime-a-dozen cliché in romance fantasies.
A cheap trick by female authors to get female readers to empathize.
Though male authors weren't much different, come to think of it.
Still, I didn't like the Lady being tormented by such a cliché for no reason.
The sooner she was freed from the Ban Pellions, the better.
I'd have to think about ways to help with that gradually.
"Ision, are you planning to die within the month?"
At that moment, Macdram, who had been watching Ision's training, threw in a comment.
After meeting the Lady, Ision had ramped up his training intensity even further.
Even now, he kept aura wrapped around his entire body at all times, repeating training until aura exhaustion set in.
He'd done it normally before, but lately, it was excessive.
He was even doing it during meals and rest.
Aura was something you activated only for defense or attack.
Maintaining it constantly was something only masters could do.
Using it nonstop without even reaching that level was bone-shattering.
"I'm fine. I'm supplementing it that much."
"You don't mean those weeds you bought with the training camp stipend, do you?"
"Weeds turn into divine medicine in the hands of a master."
Lately, he'd increased the proportion of spirit herbs.
The current combination he was consuming hadn't been discovered yet, so the ingredients were cheap.
Thanks to that, he could gorge on spirit herbs that would later be priceless.
"And now that I have a goal, I can't afford to slack off."
If he couldn't surpass the Lady, he couldn't become an Exclusive Knight of the Ban Pellions.
That meant he had no choice but to desperately grow stronger.
Every day was precious.
He needed strength, even if it meant borrowing a bit from the future.
"...Ision."
At that moment, a boy approached Ision.
It was Airen Morblu, his face somehow stiff.
For some reason, Airen even exuded a gloomy air.
"Not being selected as an imperial candidate this time wasn't because your skills were lacking."
He wanted to support someone who'd suffered injustice.
Airen even gave off a desperate vibe.
From the looks of it, he thought Ision was working this hard because he'd been dropped from the candidates.
No, that had nothing to do with it.
But Airen seemed to believe Ision's spot had been stolen not by skill, but by status.
And even if it really was about status, Ision couldn't care less.
"Uh, yeah, thanks."
"Just know that your efforts weren't lacking at all."
If they were lacking here, that would be the real problem.
Airen left as if he'd said his piece.
His face was filled with a resolute determination to stand against the world's injustices.
"Airen's changed. It must be your influence, Ision."
"I don't think I've had any good influence on him."
"You might not realize it, but I think he's changing for the better."
As far as Ision was concerned, it wasn't his business.
He didn't care what happened to Airen.
More importantly, it was training time now.
The Lady was a genius who appeared once in a thousand years.
Next time, she'd show up even more genius-like.
To surpass a genius, he couldn't afford to be picky about methods.
He knew some opportunities and divine weapons, but he couldn't obtain them now anyway.
'They're all concentrated in the kingdom faction of the protagonist's formation anyway.'
The ones in the Empire were either absurdly difficult or half-baked opportunities.
So, focus solely on training. Focus and focus again.
'Just you wait, Lady.'
Your genius.
I'll cheat my way to victory, even if I have to sell my future for it.
One year passes quickly.
Especially time spent in a frenzy feels even faster.
Ision had shot up in height and bulked up compared to a year ago.
His physique was far superior to other ten-year-olds his age.
There was satisfaction in hearing the training camp staff tell him to ease up on eating.
He'd always had a bear-like build, but this time, he might grow even bigger?
He clasped his hands together, pinning his hopes on the future.
23:59.
Today was the day he turned ten.
The day he would receive his Stigma.
For two years, he'd offered prayers every dawn.
Please, let it be a good Stigma this time.
He prayed fervently, over and over.
Stigmas were pure random.
As long as it wasn't something tricky to use like before, anything would do.
Ding-
Finally, the clock's second hand ticked its last notch.
The sound from the clock tower announcing midnight in the city center.
The sound sliced through the night air and faded, and in that instant, the world held its breath for a moment.
The lights stayed the same, but the atmosphere shifted.
The street noise grew quieter, breaths beyond windows deepened.
The echoes of day fully settled, and the year quietly folded away.
The most mystical time he'd experienced long ago.
That time had finally returned once more.
The sky reacted first.
Without warning, a single star broke from its place.
The light didn't fall so much as descend with purpose.
A long trail of radiance lingered in the night air, the trajectory making the atmosphere quiver faintly.
The moment he inhaled, the cool warmth of starlight touched his skin.
Starlight that neither burned nor chilled.
It seeped in along his pulse, a subtle tremor flowing between bone and blood.
Ision slowly opened his eyes, wrapped in light.
Soon, he spotted the Stigma engraved on the back of his right hand.
It was embedded as naturally as if it had always been there.
'The shape is different.'
Not the form he remembered from before.
But he knew a similar shape.
A pattern that didn't flow upward.
A trace ascending against the river called fate.
Reverse Heaven.
A small blank space at the center.
Faint veins of light pulsing like a heartbeat around the void.
Sacrifice.
It was as if the two Stigmas had been merged.
"What is this?"
Confusion flickered across Ision's face.
He'd thought for sure a different Stigma would appear this time.
But he never imagined his existing Stigma and the Reverse Heaven Stigma would combine.
His mind was a whirl, but now wasn't the time to dwell on it.
What mattered was the ability contained within the Stigma.
Stigmas were talents ultimately left to the gods' will.
He just hoped this one would be usable.
Focus on the back of the hand, and the ability within would surface in the mind naturally.
So Ision immediately entered a focused state.
The moment he opened his eyes.
"...What the hell."
All he could do was wear an even more baffled expression.
The new Stigma engraved on Ision's hand.
The ability within this fused form of his existing Stigma was clearly different from before.
Reverse Heaven's Vicarious
He pondered the ability, whose name fit it perfectly.
Ision had a rough grasp of what this power entailed.
If someone enacts Reverse Heaven, he takes their place.
And Ision knew exactly who would enact Reverse Heaven.
'The Lady.'
Ser Noxia Ban Pellion.
He would enact Reverse Heaven in her stead.
'So, this is giving me a chance to remove the reason she chooses Reverse Heaven?'
A ridiculous chuckle escaped him for a moment.
So now he even had to enact Reverse Heaven for her?
Since you seem to love sacrificing with Reverse Heaven, here, have this too!
It felt like that.
But it wasn't a bad deal.
'The Lady only chooses regression when she thinks her mistake can't be undone.'
She'd said the paths she chose always led to the worst outcomes.
But regression was like an unbreakable drug.
How could anyone not want to rewind a horrific mistake right in front of them?
If rewinding was possible, they'd mindlessly repeat it over and over.
Unaware that it led to their own ruin.
Regression ultimately made everything feel worthless after repeated hopes.
The Lady's repeated mistakes probably stemmed from that.
'But if I can regress in her place every time she thinks she's made a mistake.'
Then the Lady could live in this world confidently, without ever experiencing that failure.
Above all, she herself wouldn't have to experience even a single regression.
She could avoid the fate of a regressor worn down by regressions.
'If it's me.'
I can do it.
For the Lady, it wouldn't be hard at all.
Ision looked up at the night sky.
A night sky densely studded with stars.
He cherished the Stigma bestowed by the gods looming there.
No powerful offensive power to topple foes.
No sturdy defense to protect himself.
No wind-like mobility to evade anything.
This Stigma had none of that.
Moreover, it only barely activated through someone else's trigger.
Alone, it was utterly worthless.
But that was fine.
To Ision, this was more precious than anything.
What he'd wished for while enacting Reverse Heaven was simple.
The Lady's happiness.
A world where he'd suddenly been dropped with no ties.
Here, she was the only family, the only friend.
On the day he'd possessed this body, all real-world goals vanished, leaving the Lady as his sole obsession, his lingering attachment.
Perhaps she was the driving force that let him endure this damned romance-fantasy world.
The belief that reforming the villainess would let him live peacefully by her side.
But at some point.
To Ision, whether Ser Noxia was a villainess or not stopped mattering.
Time by her side builds affection, they say.
After 15 years of serving her, she'd become his most precious person.
Now, Ision didn't just wish she wouldn't become a villainess.
Only one thing.
He hoped the girl suffering under the fate of a villainess could be a little happier.
He wanted the girl who once trembled in his arms, cursing her fate with tiny shoulders, to smile now.
As long as Reverse Heaven existed, the Lady could never be happy.
But if he was there, if he endured.
He could create a world without Reverse Heaven for her.
He could proclaim to the world Sword King Ser Noxia Ban Pellion, not the Witch of Reverse Heaven.
Ision clenched his fist and swore to the stars.
I will make sure my villainess gets her happy ending.
Until the day I die.
I won't forget this vow of today.