Traces
"F-Frey... snap out of it..."
"Oh, are you leaving already? Well... see you later."
Irina, unable to bear watching Frey hold her hand any longer while chatting innocently with a bright smile, finally pulled away and stepped back. He waved with a wistful expression.
"...Hm?"
Frey flinched for a moment before noticing Irina in front of him. He gave an apologetic look and said,
"Ah, Kania... sorry. The trial made you look like my mom for a second."
Frey chuckled as if it were no big deal, but Irina just stared at him blankly.
"Seriously, no need to worry. If anything, it was nice seeing Mom after so long. My mental state's even recovered a bit. The first trial can't touch me."
Frey assumed, as always, that Kania was fretting over him excessively. He spoke in a calm voice to reassure her.
'The first one... so he really used that resolution method...'
But Irina's face had paled as she thought about the curse she'd cast on Frey to kill him.
The "Curse of 12 O'Clock" that Irina had inflicted on Frey on the first day of her regression, at the cost of a year of mana exhaustion, was one of the world's most horrific curses.
From noon that day, the victim endured every imaginable torment for 24 hours before dying.
But it wasn't without a resolution. Few knew it, but the way to break it was to endure all the pain fully conscious for the full 24 hours, then smash a nearby clock one minute before the next noon struck.
Compared to other nightmarish curses on par with it, this seemed simple and anticlimactic—but in reality, it was anything but.
For one, the agonies inflicted over those 24 hours were each lethal on their own. Staying sane through them for a full day was nearly impossible. The longest recorded endurance in any text was just six hours.
And even if you somehow smashed the clock, it wasn't over. At that instant, the accumulated pain would replay slowly until death.
Most would choose swift death over endless torment until the end... but
"Just hold on a few more days, and the first trial will be done. So relax..."
Someone with a reason to live—like a destined protector against the Demon King—might weepingly choose the latter.
"Kania, you're acting weird today. You sure you're okay?"
"Ah, yes... I'm fine."
Irina, lost in thoughts of the curse she'd cast, snapped back as Frey eyed her with concern.
"Here, eat this."
"...Pardon?"
"Your face looks pale. It'd be a real hassle if you collapsed on top of everything else."
Frey, gazing at her steadily, quietly offered a skewer of grilled fish.
"I only care about killing the Demon King anyway, so your health matters more. Don't refuse—eat."
"......Yes."
As Irina hesitated, Frey shook the skewer with a stern look. Trembling, she finally took it.
"Anyway, what now? The newspaper said I'm supposed to be in my dorm at Sunrise Academy."
Irina began nibbling the fish slowly. Frey watched her fondly before sighing and muttering,
"Sneaking back to the dorm needs your stealth skills... When do you think your black magic will recover?"
"Um... probably another day."
"Hm, okay? Then we'll stay put one more day—like recovery time."
Frey nodded, then flopped onto the bed, mumbling,
"By the way, Kania, what about that 'scroll merchant' I ordered you to track?"
"Scroll... merchant?"
Irina reacted to the word, and Frey's eyes sharpened.
"Yeah, the real culprit behind that 'practical evaluation incident'—the 'owner'."
"Ah, yes... under investigation."
"Catch them, no matter what. Something feels off."
Frey coughed, lying back. Irina watched him quietly and said,
"Then I'll step out briefly. Please stay here, Young Master."
"Sure, thanks as always, Kania."
With that, Irina staggered out of the Secret Base.
"Haa..."
After wandering the forest alone for a while, Irina collapsed by the riverbank.
"I... I..."
She stared blankly at fish nibbling her heels, murmuring soullessly,
"I just... wanted to fix everything..."
When she first regressed, she'd thought it was her divine mission. God pitying her failures—failing her friend, the empire, killing the Demon King—and giving her another chance.
So without hesitation, she'd cursed Frey, the villain as wicked as the Demon King in the previous loop, with her most horrific known curse.
But Frey was actually the hero striving to protect everyone.
And because of her curse, he'd endured unforgettable agony—not just once, but replayed over his already shortened lifespan from her actions.
"Haa..."
These thoughts stabbed her heart relentlessly. Gritting her teeth, she dunked her face in the river to cool off.
"...Pha."
It was meant to calm her, but instead of clarity, it brought deeper turmoil—like dousing flames not with quenching water, but smothering them into dull embers. Dripping wet, Irina muttered,
'We used to play here... with Frey...'
Memories flickered in her lifeless eyes.
"Irina... why don't I catch any fish?"
"Idiot, you didn't bait the hook."
Frey, fishing hopefully for hours without bait, whining tearfully at dusk with zero catches.
"Ow! Cold! M-Magic's cheating...!"
Bragging about water play, only to tumble repeatedly into her water magic, pouting indignantly.
"Wow... so good... why's it taste like this?"
"...Praise or insult?"
Biting into salted grilled fish, eyes sparkling with pure wonder.
And then...
"I don't eat this crap anymore... you eat it."
Dragging the suddenly changed boy here, offering grilled fish—only for him to coldly crush it.
"Back then... I thought it was just shock from Mom's death... temporary..."
That he'd snap out of it, smile and play again someday. Alone, she'd grilled and eaten fish, clinging to that hope.
"Hng..."
Memories piled, deepening her gloom. To shake it off, Irina wandered blindly from the memory-laden river.
But...
"...Fuck."
Everywhere overflowed with memories of Frey. She stopped, slumping to the ground.
"What... do I do now?"
For now, the high-grade transformation potion from Frey's room let her masquerade as Kania.
But soon, she'd face him as herself. What reaction? What words? Should she even pretend to know him...?
'I don't know.'
Irina, whose life motto was seeking answers to every doubt, couldn't today. Rationalization and guilt tangled into chaos, shaking her core.
Huddled, rejecting judgment for the first time, she suddenly frowned and looked up.
"...What?"
A strange mana emanated from the forest ahead—faint, undetectable to normals, but vivid to her hypersensitive mana perception.
"This dark, sinister feel... black magic..."
Confirming it, Irina tensed, scanning around.
'Kania?'
Not ready to face Frey's allies, she swallowed hard and stood.
'...Huh?'
Extending her arms, probing deeper, she tilted her head, frowning.
'Not Kania?'
Black mages leaked irregular black magic unintentionally. But this was thin, elongated—like a guiding stream.
"...Gulp."
Intrigued, Irina cautiously followed. Suspicious black magic in their old playground forest, plus Frey's words nagged her.
'He said the scroll merchant was the real culprit in the practical evaluation.'
She'd blamed Frey for the kidnapping. But knowing his truth, he was another innocent victim.
Ariane couldn't be guilty... so a scroll merchant fooling her and Ariane—master of magic—crafted those scrolls.
Such a mysterious merchant had motives. The incident ended with a Dark Golem nearly demolishing Sunrise Academy.
This black magic surely had purpose.
"Hoo..."
Resolved, Irina headed toward it—then halted.
'Dangerous.'
Distraction was vital for her turmoil, but not at risk. A Dark Golem-level threat endangered Frey too.
'Retreat first...'
Abandoning pursuit, she turned back to the base.
—Rumble!!
Nearing the base, thunder cracked, rain pouring.
"...Ugh."
The storm mirrored her mood, deepening her melancholy.
"Young Master, I hope you stayed sa—"
Rushing in to avoid the downpour, Irina froze at the scene.
"...Where is he?"
Frey's bed was empty. Stunned briefly, she paled and bolted outside.
—Rumble! Boom!!
"Young Master!!"
Her desperate cry echoed meaninglessly in the gale.
"Frey!!"
Another plea returned only echo. Anxious, she scanned—but vision blurred in the storm. Clenching fists, she thought,
'He's still nearby... I can find him now...'
Faint light glowed from her hand—her hack from months of exhaustion: squeezing deep-reserved mana.
"Nngh...!"
Forcing twisted mana through circuits brought agony quickly.
'This is nothing... I've burned and ruptured them how many times...'
Though prone to circuit damage before, voluntary squeezing was brutal. Her eyes bloodshot, blood trickled from her mouth.
"Haa... haa..."
Squeezing every remnant into a sphere, she blew it skyward, murmuring,
"Find... Frey Raon Starlight."
The orb spun, scattering light, then shot off. The tracking spell—revolutionary for minimal mana, victor in childhood hide-and-seek with Frey—led her sprinting.
"Frey! Are you there!? Frey!!"
Chasing desperately, she glimpsed something and stiffened.
'This is... where I was earlier?'
Back at the black magic spot. The orb dove toward it. Horrified, she raced after.
"No! Stop!!"
Ignoring her cries, it plunged in. Terrified, she thought,
'If he was attacked while I was gone... or drawn here by illusions...!'
Soaked, hair wild, she ran relentlessly.
"Agh!"
Tripping spectacularly, she clutched her twisted ankle, groaning—then gritted teeth and rose.
"Frey!! Can you hear me!? Frey!!"
Dragging the injured foot, calling his name, she burst through dense trees and paused, panting.
"Haa... haa..."
Arms and legs scraped raw, ankle throbbing. Mana barely enough for two fireballs.
Yet she staggered on.
'...Here?'
A hidden cave mouth, sinister aura wafting. The orb zipped beside her toward it.
"...Hoo."
Resolved, arm extended for instant fireball, Irina crept in warily.
'Definitely not Kania.'
The evil intensified. Kind-hearted Kania wouldn't emit this. Ahead lurked malice—black mage or monster, formidable.
'Can I win?'
Doubt flickered, but she shook it off. Retreat risked Frey. She must save him, whatever it took.
—Scrape...
Steeling herself, she advanced—then gulped as the orb melted before a stone door.
Frey was beyond. Maybe too late, or desperately awaiting aid.
Opening meant no return. Facing him, inevitably broken.
—Creeeak...
But inaction doomed him surely. Heart pounding, Irina eased the door open.
"...Young Master?"
Frey's back silhouette stood still.
"Yeah, Kania."
His steady reply eased her slightly. She approached.
"What are you doing here..."
"Interfering with my illusion again? I told you not to."
"Pardon?"
His odd words confused her.
"Felt stuffy, so I stepped out... and the forest from my dream—chased by werewolves with Irina—manifested as a trial illusion. Then sinister black magic leaked from here."
"I... see..."
Sorting his words, she frowned and asked,
"Werewolves, you say?"
"Yeah. You wouldn't know, but in the dream, it was werewolves chasing us. No idea why in a normal forest...!"
Mid-explanation, Frey clutched his head, collapsing.
"Y-Young Master?"
"Ugh... memories..."
She lunged to catch him, but he went limp, unconscious.
"Wh-What the..."
—Creeeak...
Panicking over him, the stone door opened behind. She reached out—but froze.
"K-Kania?"
".....!"
Recognizing the figure, she iced over.
"...Why are you here?"
Frey's sister, Aria Raon Starlight, stared blankly at her battered form.