Mage Marygold (13)
Yeah. The fact that he hadn't sensed anything strange until now, or hadn't attached much meaning to it even if he had noticed—perhaps it was because of all the accumulated misfortune and bad luck piled up inside Lancel over the years. Maybe this was the normalized world? Maybe everything he'd endured so far had been sheer injustice? Maybe he'd ruined this peaceful world all by himself because he'd taken the wrong route, because he was incompetent, ignorant, and lazier than lazy?
Maybe it had actually been a pretty good world to live in all along...
Such self-deprecating thoughts occasionally tugged at his leash like that.
The regression is over. That's a good thing. Yeah, it's good.
That was why Lancel tried to just accept the regression that had ended without any warning. He tried to shake off the nagging doubt in a corner of his mind.
But the moment the emperor—who should have been dead by now—waved his hand, the suspicion inside him finally opened its eyes.
Sunlight. Cheers. Festival. Petals. Each frozen scene was a picture-perfect celebration. If there were a camera, he'd want to capture it as a snapshot of life.
No wonder everything had been going too smoothly.
It was almost a shame. To think it was all fake. This dazzling world of splendor, an illusion.
Swish.
"Lancel."
Marygold hooked her arm through his. She leaned her head quietly against him and closed her eyes.
"Everything was for you, Lancel. At least know that much."
A calm voice.
"Fake or illusion or dream... if it's happy, that's enough, right? As long as we're together, that's all that matters."
"If I hadn't known, maybe. But I already know it's fake."
"I can make you not know."
Marygold's voice was filled with sincerity.
"I can reset you to a state where you know nothing."
"Is that even possible?"
"I've lived for this alone. It's not even hard."
"Scary."
How far had she grown, this grand mage Marygold?
"When did it start? I can't even guess exactly when it turned fake."
Marygold was silent for a long while. When her lips finally parted, an unexpected answer came.
"This life, entirely."
"...?"
"I set it so our memories loop back to the moment we first met. Every 30 years."
"First... so, back to when Baron Jenis unveiled the airship?"
"Yes. You remember."
Marygold's voice came calmly. Her hands, clasped around Lancel's palm, trembled slightly. He could hear her heartbeat, thumping steadily yet rapidly.
A loop within a loop?
If their memories reset every time, it wasn't even regression. He and Marygold had just lived out their lives as NPCs in the loop, unaware of any anomalies every 30 years.
—Are you... Baron Jenis's apprentice?
Repeating infinitely back to the day they first met.
"But I didn't lie. My original memories won't return unless you realize it. Until you do, my true self can't intervene in this world."
So that was it. He'd half-expected as much. Marygold wasn't the type to be good at acting. If she'd lied even a little, Lancel would have seen right through it. He'd have realized the truth of this world much sooner. Maybe even that was part of Marygold's design.
Scary. Really scary.
How many times had the loop repeated exactly? Lancel didn't have the courage to ask. He couldn't bring himself to, fearing an unimaginably huge number.
"Now that you know, send me back."
"No."
"..."
A clean refusal.
"They say even rolling in a dung field is better than nothing."
"Never heard that."
"It's a saying from another world."
"Sounds like a shitty world. Spouting nonsense like that."
Marygold's grip on his arm tightened. He could feel her obsession—she didn't want to let him go.
"Hate me if you want. I'm not sending you back. You'll understand why I'm doing this."
Thud!
In that instant, the scenery shifted.
"Aaaahhh!"
"S-save me!"
"Guhhh!"
"Kyaaaahhh!"
Cheers turned to screams. Petals to flames. The festival to pandemonium.
War...
The crowd's wails battered his ears. The acrid scent of blood from splattered pools mingled with smoke-filled air, brushing his nose. The flower petals on the ground had become bloody puddles, trickling along the capital's paved streets.
A massive war and massacre shaking Rodnis filled his vision. Familiar faces appeared amid it: Baron Ivil Shen fleeing in terror, maid Hestie, Professor Laura Cote with an injured arm, the Seventh Prince collapsing from a sword wound, countless faces from the academy.
The airships soaring over the capital were engulfed in fire, slowly crashing down. Baron Jenis knelt despondently, gazing at the sky. Burning parts rained down along the airship's tilting path. He didn't dodge even as they threatened to consume him. His despair-filled eyes seemed to welcome death to end this moment.
Boom—!
Debris scattered embers as it swallowed his form. Flames shot skyward, blanketing the area on rising currents.
"First."
Marygold's low voice. Then, familiar figures entered Lancel's view: himself, cloaked in blood, cradled in Mage Marygold's arms. His body was covered in wounds, limp and on the verge of closing his eyes. He weakly lifted a hand to brush her hair aside. Under the full moon, a small horn protruded from her tear-streaked head.
"...Back to reality."
A choked voice. Marygold clung to his arm, trembling. Gripped by trauma-like fear, she forced out words one by one.
"Second."
And everything reset to the beginning.
"Waaaaah!"
Screams, flames, war, death, crashing airships, the full moon—all vanished like lies.
"His Majesty the Emperor arrives!"
"Long live His Majesty the Emperor!"
"Long live the Phrygia Empire!"
Replaced by cheers, petals, festival, joy, drifting airships, blinding sun. As if the world had flipped entirely.
"...Keep imagining happiness."
The contrast between the scenes delivered a staggering shock.
"You still think the real world is better, Lancel?"
Feeling Marygold's tremor, Lancel bowed his head silently. The sandwich basket still sat at his feet.
Yeah. Maybe this wasn't an illusion. The sandwich Marygold had made while dozing off with a hangover that early morning was surely her real feelings. At least he and she weren't fake in this world. No matter how many loops, Marygold was Marygold. Through countless lives, she remained Marygold.
That was why.
"Mary."
Lancel spoke.
"You already know what I'm gonna say."
Because that was his truth too.
—I'm not sending you back.
"Send me back."
—You'll understand why I'm doing this.
"You'll understand why I'm doing this."
28.
It wasn't hard to guess why Marygold had trapped him in the illusion. The "Lancel's death" she'd just shown was reason enough.
"Even if you go back and die, you say."
"Yeah. Even if I die."
Thinking about it, there was a simple way. Just reveal he was a regressor.
We'll meet again soon, so why? One line like that would do.
But it wouldn't work on Marygold now.
"Anyway, we'll meet again..."
"I heard."
An immediate reply.
"I already heard. The promise we'd meet again."
"...Did I say that?"
"This isn't the first time you've realized this world isn't real."
"Yeah?"
"First time you've caught on this early, though."
She already had the power and means to hold him.
"I... I wouldn't send you to your death over a mere promise."
Lancel shut his mouth.
"To me, you're only this moment. Here, you and I can be happy forever. No reason to wake from the dream. I know this is stubborn. But please, just grant me this one thing. Everything else is fine, just this..."
—Master, all these moments I saw and heard with you are my last.
Warrior Marygold's voice stirred him again.
Yeah. To Marygold, this life was unique and irreplaceable. No guarantee the her of this life would return, no matter the loops or another regressor Marygold appearing.
But.
"My answer doesn't change, Mary."
Lancel intended to make her happy in the real world.
Fake was fake. He wanted to prove there was a better choice than dreaming somewhere in this world.
That was all.
"..."
Marygold's face grew cold. Color drained, a flicker of sorrow passed over her.
"If that's what you say, Lancel."
Thud—!
The scenery shifted again. He came to in a familiar place.
The academy?
Precisely, the academy's training grounds. The same spot where knights and mages had once sparred.
What was different: Lancel was no longer there as a "professor." A sharp sword hilt gripped in his hand.
No way.
Lancel looked up.
"Lancel."
Marygold faced him, raising a massive staff. Terrifying mana simmered around her. Dirt and pebbles orbited her slowly like satellites. Like the eye of a typhoon.
"Give me a chance to 'convince' you."
"Con...vince?"
Thud—!
Light flashed from her staff's tip, shooting outward. A massive bolt of lightning crashed down, darkening the area. Deafening thunder echoed in chains.
One burst of mana had turned the surroundings to scorched earth.
Marygold's hair fluttered in the air. Hot winds whipped like a storm, lightning sparking intermittently.
"Yes, convince."
Her emerald eyes gleamed with eerie light. An expression she'd never turned on Lancel before.
She truly meant to use her full power against him.
"You told me this works best on knights."
Hmm. Scary.
Can I win this?
The continent's strongest mage, Marygold. The continent's strongest knight... Lancel had been.
The odds were clearly with her.