Mage Marygold (12): Happiness or Illusion?
"It ended this easily? Does that make any sense?"
"Huh?"
"Does this make any sense?"
"Wh-what doesn't?"
In the leisurely cafe district of the capital, Lancel started grilling Baron Ivil Shen instead—the man who'd come to collect on a ten-year debt only to leave empty-handed.
"If it was just gonna end this ordinarily, what the hell were my last 300 years? There's a limit to pointless suffering—this is just too weird, isn't it? It's good, sure, but still weird, right? Yeah?"
"Your condition does seem a bit off, yeah. I'll extend it generously to three years, so calm down for now. You're a married man these days—gotta watch how you act with all those eyes on you..."
"I'm remarkably calm right now. And I'll pay back the money eventually."
"Three years..."
"Eventually."
"F-four years?"
"Eventually."
Lancel gazed at the peaceful streets of the capital.
300 years. Nearly three centuries. A time of endless, soul-crushing regressions. He'd felt utter despair more than once, wondering if it would never stop. More than once, he'd worried his mind would melt into goo, leaving him barely human.
But it was over. Just like that. Overnight. Absurdly simply. As if nothing had happened.
Confusion lingered for a while.
I dunno what's going on... but it's good, right?
After much deliberation, that's the conclusion Lancel reached. If it was over, that had to be good, didn't it?
The thing that threw Lancel most off-guard after the regressions abruptly ended wasn't even the ten-year debt he'd squeezed out of Baron Ivil Shen.
Come to think of it... I went and married Marygold?
With the loops stopped, there was no turning back now. He'd impulsively acquired a wife. Marygold, of all people.
"Lancel! Lancel, Lancel!"
Marygold, buzzing with excitement, clutched an expensive bottle of liquor.
"Tomorrow's a holiday! Festival! Today we're free! One drink to celebrate—just one, then tomorrow we head out early and snag the front-row seats for the parade!"
"Drinking late at night isn't good for you."
"You have just one too, Lancel—come on, quick!"
She'd become court mage and gotten all tangled up in high society, huh, Marygold.
"Haaah!"
"..."
She kept knocking back drinks with ham and cheese on the side.
"Mary."
"Yes, Lancel?"
Lancel gently nudged Marygold away as she pressed right up against him.
"Let's plan out our life together."
A serious tone.
"Life plan? Why suddenly... Ha?!"
Marygold's face flushed hot in an instant. She set her glass down silently, her expression suddenly demure.
"I-I'd been preparing myself too, so if that's what you want, Lancel... One girl, one boy, somehow... Actually, I'd been waiting for my court mage duties to lighten up... But if you're in a rush, I guess I can't..."
"That's not it."
"Eek."
Lancel pinched her cheek lightly, snapping her out of her fantasies.
"Life's unpredictable, so let's prepare for emergencies."
"Emergencies?"
"Like, war could break out any time."
Marygold blinked.
"War? When it's this peaceful?"
"Just hypothetically. If."
"Even if, could there really be a war big enough to threaten the capital? It'd have to be something huge."
She had a point. The empire was astonishingly peaceful right now. No wars, no rebellions, no tragedies. He couldn't recall the system ever being this stable, not even once.
It really is a golden age.
The palace overflowed with laughter, and the streets never lacked energy for a single day. So maybe Lancel's worries were just paranoia.
Still, gotta do what needs doing.
He looked straight into Marygold's eyes.
"Not anything grand. Just build a decent villa somewhere nice, save some money, prepare for ifs. No downside, right?"
But his real thoughts were elsewhere.
Now we've only got one life, Marygold!
Yeah. The days of living carelessly and dying were over. From now on, it was safety and security all the way.
"There's a great spot in the archipelago, actually. I'll handle the prep, you just know about it."
"Archipelago. Got it! I'm all for whatever you decide, Lancel! Yep."
"Hands off."
Lancel brushed away Marygold's hand creeping up his thigh.
"Heh heh."
"..."
Marygold sidled closer with a sly grin. Mana faintly wafted from her body. The glasses and plates on the table floated up into the air. They drifted to a distant shelf and settled quietly.
"Lancel."
With the obstacles gone, she pressed in more boldly.
"Haa."
Her breath carried a faint fruit wine scent, like she was tipsy.
"Festival tomorrow, vacation taken. Tonight we're totally free. What do you think, Lancel? Heh heh heh... ehehehe..."
"...Weren't we gonna get up early for front-row seats?"
"A knight should tough it out with stamina."
Smack. Smack.
As Marygold peppered his face with kisses, Lancel finally felt it sink in.
Ah! I got played by you, Marygold.
The marriage. The abrupt end to regressions had bound him and Marygold as lifelong partners.
But it was fine. Not like those bitter, bad-aftertaste endings from before. A real marriage. Husband and wife. Nothing more, nothing less.
This life might be worth living.
"Lancel."
Marygold's face held no trace of worldly worry or misfortune. Across all loops, she'd never looked happier.
That was enough.
And Lancel's regressions had ended. Nothing held him anymore. He'd escaped eternity's grip into real life.
Isn't this good enough?
Lancel scooped up Marygold.
"Kyaa!"
Regression's end. Real life begins.
"Lancel, look! Sandwiches!"
"Been a while since these."
"Hehe, I remembered you liked them since way back."
Marygold and Lancel headed to the festival at dawn, baskets stuffed with sandwiches and fruit.
"You seem in a good mood today."
"...Festival."
The capital buzzed with harvest festival energy. Tavern clinks echoed by every inn, kids dashed through alleys nonstop, and sizzling meat scents wafted from endless stalls.
"Eyes front."
"S-sorry!"
"Careful."
Marygold patted the head of a kid who'd crashed into her.
"Let's go. Seats'll be gone."
"Yes, Lancel."
She turned back with a bright smile, and time seemed to slow. Golden hair simply tied and draped to one side, blue dress, radiant grin—the capital streets and early summer sky behind her.
"..."
Marygold approached with quick steps and hooked her arm in his.
"Shall we?"
..."
Was this world always this livable?
Maybe shedding all worries after endless loops let him appreciate it. Lancel soaked in the noisy festival vibe, watching the long parade procession.
"I'm happy, Lancel."
Marygold leaned her head on his shoulder.
"Because of you, we can do festivals like this, feel the sun rise and summer come."
A gentle smile graced her face.
"Even if war breaks out like you said last night, it's okay. Even if the capital flips or we have to flee far away."
Her voice flowed softly.
"As long as you're by my side, I can survive anything. That's all I want. For real, Lancel."
"...Heavy."
"My feelings?"
"No, my shoulder."
"Shoulder?"
Marygold pouted at his shoulder where she'd leaned.
"How can a knight be so unromantic?"
Lancel chuckled silently.
"His Majesty's procession!"
A loud cry. "Now!" signals burst from nearby rooftops. Kids hoisted flower baskets as if they'd waited for this. Petals rained like endless snow, their shadows dotting the scene like pointillism. The world bloomed in vivid colors.
"Mary."
"Yes."
As Lancel opened his mouth—
"His Majesty's procession!"
The imperial parade rolled down the boulevard. On a carriage, waving kindly—an emperor grandfather so benevolent. When was the last time he'd seen the old man hale and hearty? First time since opening his eyes in this world?
"Waaah!"
Cheers erupted.
"His Majesty the Emperor!"
"Long live His Majesty!"
"Long live the Phrygia Empire!"
Cheers. Flower rain. Festival. Emperor. Airships. End of regression. And Marygold.
"Lancel?"
As the imperial carriage passed, Lancel—who'd watched silently—finally bowed his head.
Something felt off.
The suspicion in him reached a conclusion.
"Mary."
His eyes fell on the basket at his feet. Early morning. Marygold, hungover and blinking groggily, had painstakingly packed it with sandwiches.
Lancel, who'd rolled through battlefields eating whatever scraps, wasn't picky. But if pressed, he preferred simple flavors: fresh veggies without junk, rich in meat and protein, each ingredient distinct. Marygold's sandwiches nailed it. Veggies, ham, cheese layered neatly between bread. The pinnacle of what he sought. Even the carved fruits in the corner screamed her picnic style.
Heavy.
Yeah. Heavy. Her feelings.
But he knew he had to shake it off.
He and Marygold hadn't endured this long for just "this kind of life." Settling for this much would make those centuries feel wasted.
"Mary."
"...Lancel?"
Doubt flickered on her face.
"Let me go now."
No reaction. Innocent Marygold just blinked.
Lancel reached into the basket, lifting the silver knife for slicing sandwiches.
"Didn't want it to end like this."
He thrust it at his own throat. Or tried to.
Clang—!
Something blocked him. Dense mana like a shield halted the knife before it reached his carotid.
Time stopped.
Imperial procession, falling petals, cheering crowds—all froze in place.
Only one thing moved.
1. Return to Reality
2. Continue the Happy Fantasy Forever
Marygold.
Her deeply sunken emerald eyes slowly fixed on Lancel.
"Lancel... which do you think is better?"