Chapter 16 - The Realm of the Unconscious
I'd been lying in bed, silently watching Frey, who had yet to open his eyes despite hours passing.
"What in the world happened to him..."
When I'd pressed him yesterday about what had gone down, he'd suddenly vomited blood and collapsed. What kind of twisted joke was this?
He didn't have any chronic illnesses...
I racked my brain, combing through my memories, but in no previous loop had he ever fallen this ill. So why, in this loop, had he abruptly spewed blood and lost consciousness?
Could it be related to what he does to me every night?
Using the black magic Hidden Gaze, I'd observed him closely over the past few days. Every night, he'd place his hand on my stomach, close his eyes, and concentrate intently for a long while. Afterward, he'd stroke the cat I inhabited with a weary expression, sigh deeply, and shuffle back to his own bed.
Since I could stick by his side all day, I'd watched him meticulously, but nothing suspicious stood out beyond that. So the blood-soaked handprint on the dormitory bedsheet, the blood he'd vomited when he assaulted me before and again this dawn, and his current unconscious state—they all had to be connected to whatever he was doing to me each night.
So what exactly was he doing to me under cover of darkness?
Until recently, I'd assumed it was some nefarious ritual of unknown origin. If Frey had been in league with the Demon King from this point onward, it made sense he'd be extracting the black magic power in my body through some method to fuel evil deeds or offer it to his master.
That would explain why my condition had deteriorated so badly in previous loops—he'd been secretly siphoning it off from way back.
Frey Raon Starlight didn't have the power to improve my health; he had the power to ruin it.
In the end, just as he'd said during that assault, he never saw me as a butler, a servant, or even a human... just a tool.
That's how it had to be...
That had been my theory up until yesterday. But the events of last night had shaken it to its core.
He'd appeared in a black robe and mask, rescuing me from that demon. It was too much to claim he was merely protecting a tool or storage vault for his black magic power—especially when he'd taken a fatal stab wound through the back.
If he'd treated me like a disposable tool as usual, he never would have gone that far.
And that strength... what was it?
Frey Raon Starlight was weak. In previous loops, he'd been quietly branded a disgrace to the Starlight family. The Star Mana passed down through their line? He couldn't wield it properly. His martial skills were laughable, and his mana reserves were next to nothing.
Yet that same Frey had overwhelmed Isolet Arham Bywalk, who was hailed as the next Sword Saint.
I'd blacked out and only caught the end, when Isolet lay defeated, but Frey had clearly been gripping his sword backward, by the blade.
In other words, he was actually a master swordsman capable of felling the next Sword Saint with a reverse grip.
"................."
Gazing at Frey, still peacefully asleep, I whispered my questions into the silence.
"Why did you protect me?"
"Why hide your strength?"
"And why... why did you cry like that, so heartbroken?"
No answers would come, of course. Instead, I recalled this morning's events.
For some reason, Frey seemed oddly fond of the doll I'd made. Hoping he'd let his guard down and leave some clue, I'd deliberately left the cat doll I'd been hugging in sleep on the desk.
When he'd placed his hand on my stomach again and vomited blood mid-ritual, my suspicions had flared anew—it really must be some curse—but without hard proof, I'd swallowed my frustration.
"...Kitty, so much happened today."
Good, he's talking to himself.
My plan worked perfectly. As he wiped up the blood from the floor, Frey picked up my doll and began lamenting his woes.
"If I tried recounting every single thing, we'd be here till dawn... but roughly speaking, I barely survived at least three near-death brushes."
Could that masked man at the auction really have been him?
As his story aligned more and more with yesterday's suspicions, he dropped a bombshell.
"And... I read a letter from Father, full of his true feelings. I nearly burst into tears right then... but I held it back. Because I'm the hero."
...Hero?
Hero? The word made no sense. As I tilted my head internally in confusion, his voice trembled.
"...Honestly, it's tough. So tough I feel like dying, but what can I do? I'm the hero. I have no choice but to push on."
.......!
Tears streamed down Frey's face as he spoke. That utterly wretched, heartbreaking sight—something I'd never witnessed in any previous loop—made me flinch involuntarily. But he just clutched me tighter and sobbed.
After crying for ages, he finally staggered back to his bed, leaving me to spend the night in the cat's body, lost in thought.
"...So everything really had a reason?"
After hours of agonizing reflection, I'd arrived at a new hypothesis: every single one of his actions had purpose.
His tearful claim of being the hero was too pitiful, too lonely to explain any other way.
That's why, this morning, I'd planned to confront him with the truth. What was he doing to me every night? Why hide his power? Why vomit blood constantly? And why commit such vile acts while drowning in isolation and sorrow?
But the moment I'd asked, this catastrophe unfolded.
No time left.
Starting tomorrow, I'd resolved to team up with the imperial princess and the saintess to utterly destroy Frey—bring him low and kill him.
I had to uncover the truth about Frey Raon Starlight before it was too late. To decide whether to keep hating him and drive him to death... or spare his life, considering his circumstances.
Shoooo...
Lost in those thoughts, I extended my hand and summoned a massive surge of black energy from my subspace.
This black energy was the black magic power I'd stockpiled since my first regression day, intended for a curse more horrific than death.
From the moment I'd suspected he was stealing my black magic power, I'd funneled a huge portion of what accumulated in my body daily into my subspace.
If he really was siphoning it, I needed to hoard it this way, or I'd run out of power for the curse later.
This should be enough.
Now, I'd use this black magic to infiltrate Frey's unconscious mind and learn the truth.
He was a direct descendant of the Star Hero, with absolute resistance to mental manipulation since previous loops... but the unconscious was different. He couldn't protect that.
The realm of the unconscious was an unknown void. Resonating with black magic—its energy akin to that void—I could slip in easily.
No matter his mental defenses, he wouldn't even notice the intrusion, let alone counter it.
This advanced black magic wasn't an "attack" on the conscious mind; it was a "visit" to the unconscious.
Of course, such advantages came with risks. Inside, anything could happen to me.
The medium—black magic's dark aura—would manifest the target's ugliness and shadows, spawning horrors everywhere.
And the "guardian" I'd meet there would try to deceive me, assimilating me eternally into the unconscious.
I'd infiltrated minds before and knew ways to handle or restrain guardians with magic... but complacency was fatal.
Shaaaa...
Recalling the precautions, I infused the black magic into the unconscious Frey, then paused, hesitating.
Using it here means I can't cast that curse more terrible than death...
This was my insurance for the worst-case scenario. Exhausting it all to enter his unconscious... even sacrificing my remaining lives wouldn't enable the curse afterward.
After agonizing briefly, I pushed the energy in fully and muttered,
"...Even without that curse, there are plenty of ways to get revenge."
I channeled enough black magic to sustain me stably for months into Frey, then closed my eyes and began resonating with his unconscious.
Wasteful, but it's mine to spend anyway.
With a twinge of regret, I was sucked into his unconscious.
Something was wrong.
"...It's too bright in here?"
A person's unconscious should be dim and murky, adrift with bizarre flotsam. But this space felt bright, almost holy.
"No way the magic failed... impossible."
I'd poured in black magic amassed on the brink of death daily. The ritual was flawless, and my power was resonating—this was definitely the unconscious.
So why was it so radiant?
"...Um, over there."
"........!!!"
Tense and scanning wildly, I jolted back at the voice from below.
"...Who are you?"
"H-Hi, big sis..."
A little child stood before me. Eyeing the kid suspiciously, I asked cautiously,
"...Are you the unconscious guardian?"
"...Yes!"
The child beamed innocently.
"How did you get he—!"
"Quiet."
In an instant, I bound the kid with mana chains.
"Cough! Cough! C-Can't... breathe...!"
"........"
The child—no, Frey in child form—gasped pitifully, but guardians demanded vigilance. One slip, and I'd be trapped forever in the host's mind.
Eight out of ten I'd faced had tried exactly that.
"No harm to me. No lies to me. Obey my every command."
"Y-Yes...!"
Standard protocol: restraints against attacks, truth compulsion, and absolute obedience for emergencies.
"Eek!"
Releasing the chains, the child-Frey fell on his butt, staring fearfully and scooting back.
Not pitiful at all. He'd tormented me in that form when I first entered the duke's mansion.
To me, he was just repulsive.
"Answer my questions from now on."
"...Y-Yes!"
"Why did Frey protect me yesterday?"
He rolled his eyes, then replied,
"...Because he wanted to save you."
"Why?"
"You, someone precious, were in mortal danger, so Frey tried to rescue you."
"......?"
It made no sense. Why would he?
"I don't get it."
"...Huh?"
"Frey used me like a tool... exploited me. No way he'd see me as precious."
"...That's not true?"
He tilted his head.
"...Frey never saw you as a tool or exploited you."
"........"
"...He loved you, actually."
"..........!"
I bit my lip hard.
"Where do you see love in any of that?"
"W-Well..."
"Name one loving act. Something convincing."
Fuming, I sneered coldly, but...
"For example... in previous loops and this one, he shared his life force to save you..."
"...What?"
I froze, stunned.
"...There's more if you want me to keep going?"
".........!"
His words hit like revelation. My gut screamed: I was the one who was wrong.
"................."
"Um... you okay?"
My mind was blank. The tales from Frey's child-guardian were impossible to believe.
The shocking reasons Frey loved me.
His destiny as the hero.
The Hero's Armament that only awakened through villainy.
The world doomed by the Demon King unless Frey doomed it once and regressed.
The Villain's Path system he bore.
And...
"In the end, Frey awakens the Hero's Armament fully and clashes with the Demon King."
"........"
"He defeats the Demon King with its complete power, but the armament's side effect drains his life force completely soon after..."
".........Stop."
"...According to the Prophecy Book's previous hero: afterward, the main heroines—who finally realize everything—gather around his powerless, collapsing body and begin to sob..."
".....Stop it."
"...Frey looks at them with the brightest smile he's ever worn, then quietly..."
".......I said stop!!!!!"
"B-But..."
"Sorry... please, no more on that... I beg you..."
"......."
The child-Frey fell silent, bound by my pre-set constraints.
He'd only spoken truth, but I couldn't take more—my sanity was fraying, on the verge of assimilation.
"......One more thing."
".........Yes."
"In the previous loop, when I killed myself before his eyes... what was his reaction?"
"...The fifth time he cried."
"...Fifth?"
Probing further, he explained methodically.
"First was when Isolet was found as a cold corpse at the academy."
"...I see."
"Losing his first acquaintance nearly made him abandon his plan for villainy right then."
"...Second?"
"Second: when the Demon King's army overran the palace, his fiancée held the line for the princess's escape and died to the Demon King. All Frey could do was bury her pathetic corpse."
"The... third...?"
"Third: Irina Philliard inflicted a mortal wound on the Demon King but was torn apart. No body left... he just sat in the gore, weeping endlessly."
"...Tell me the rest."
"Fourth: Perloché ferried the empire's people to safety, stayed behind to block the Demon King's army, and died. Fifth: you. Sixth: sacrificing the princess with his own hands."
"...Ha."
The mental torment he endured... unimaginable.
And I'd called him repulsive to his face before taking my own life?
"Seventh... before mutual destruction with the Demon King, at the final meal with his father."
"........."
"He slipped the least painful poison into Father's food. Ate quietly until Father suddenly looked at him, smiled faintly, and closed his eyes... then Frey collapsed over the table, sobbing uncontrollably."
"...And then mutual destruction with the Demon King... and regression?"
"...Yes. The eighth cry—you've already seen."
Silence stretched long after his words.
"...So he shared so much life force with me that Frey's comatose now?"
"......."
"And I converted the life force he poured into me while fading—thinking it was my own—into black magic and burned through it?"
"Th-That's..."
"All while hating him for supposedly stealing my life force, plotting his murder... unbelievable..."
"...It's a system penalty."
Laughing bitterly in self-loathing, the child-Frey interjected.
"Getting caught as the Villain reduces lifespan and life force massively. Clear rate plummets too..."
"Urk...!"
"...Sis?"
Nausea hit. Disgusting.
A vile black mage cursed with tainted power, yet he'd shaved years off his life to save me. I'd guzzled that life force freely, hated him viciously for it, plotted his death—and triggered penalties slashing his life, dooming the world's salvation chances...
Me. Utterly repulsive.
"Urgh... Blech..."
Overwhelmed, I retched onto the floor.
"...Don't do that."
The child-Frey approached, rubbing my back with a serious look.
"Don't hate yourself."
"...What?"
"One hated soul is enough."
".......!"
His radiant smile blended with the holy light, shining like a star.
Staring blankly, I sensed the danger—more talk, and I'd lose myself here. Trembling, I snapped my fingers.
"...In the end, hope will exist."
His dreamlike whisper faded as I returned to the dormitory room.
Frey's eyes remained shut.
"...Ugh."
I opened my eyes to the dormitory ceiling. Why the ceiling? Why so foggy-headed?
"...Young master."
"Kania? Why are y—oh."
Still dazed, I spotted her stone-faced beside me and froze.
I'm screwed.
She'd caught my good deed. And the price seemed steep.
"How long was I out?"
"...All day."
Glancing outside, birds chirped merrily in morning sun. I tried sitting up, but my body wouldn't obey.
".................."
Kania watched silently.
I started to explain everything, then stopped. Knowing the truth would torment her with guilt.
She'd unwittingly drained my life force periodically and triggered penalties endangering me.
But I'd vowed from the start to bear it alone. No need to burden her.
Instead, I'd use the scenario prepped for if the heroines discovered my deeds—one minimizing her guilt.
Pain for one was enough.
"Curious how this happened?"
".............."
"...Then hear the truth."
Steeling myself, I met her gaze coldly.
"...I used you."
A crack fissured her expression. The familiar sting confirmed it: I suited hatred perfectly.