Chapter 10
Chapter 10
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: Don't Cross That River, Dear
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I bolted from the rooftop the moment the tension reached its peak.
I figured those two psychos—Rizli and Leon—could just stay there and tear into each other's minds all they wanted.
I had no desire to be the audience for their twisted drama.
I knew, deep down, that I would eventually end up tangled with those lunatics sooner or later in this new life.
But I was absolutely determined not to let them ruin my first peaceful lunch break in ten years.
It wasn't because the situation was too dirty or because I was scared of them—not at all.
It was just a matter of mental exhaustion.
Especially when it came to Leon; his patterns were predictable, sure.
But they always veered straight into a complicated disaster, making any interaction with him feel like a draining chore.
I needed my energy for the bigger picture.
How much of the chaos coming for me and those around me would match the grim patterns of the past?
And how much would I be able to change?
As my thoughts deepened and I tried to map out the diverging timelines, a sudden, throbbing headache crashed over me like a wave.
For a split second, a dark thought crossed my mind.
Wouldn't it just be infinitely easier to slit all their throats in their sleep and be done with it?
But I shook it off instantly.
No, that would make the miracle of coming back in time utterly pointless.
I wanted more than just survival; I wanted a life.
But for now... I had a full stomach from lunch.
And in this young, healthy student body that hadn't yet been ravaged by poison, I was just incredibly sleepy.
"Zzz..."
Suddenly hit with that heavy, post-meal drowsiness, I found myself nodding off on a quiet bench.
My chin dipped toward my chest...
"Uh... um... Ras..."
A timid, high-pitched voice—sounding remarkably like a startled seagull—called out to me.
It jolted me back to consciousness just as I was about to drift away.
I blinked my bleary eyes open.
Standing right there was my loyal new minion, Irha.
She was glancing around nervously, her eyes darting back and forth.
She was checking if any of the other students were watching her talk to the "infamous" Ras Etgard.
She must've scarfed down something truly tasty for lunch.
Her usually sallow, sickly cheeks actually looked a bit rosier and full of life.
Looking at her like this, without the shadow of immediate starvation, she was actually quite cute.
In her own unique, scrappy way.
"Oh, look who we have here. If it isn't 'Headbutt Girl' Irha?" I teased.
A smirk played on my lips.
It seemed Irha had already earned that affectionate nickname across the campus.
That bold, desperate headbutt she'd landed squarely on Rizli’s solar plexus had clearly left an impression.
"Ugh... please don't call me that... H-here, take this...! I made sure to get it right this time!"
She stammered, her face turning a bright shade of red.
She suddenly reached into the bosom of her uniform and pulled out a chocolate bun and a carton of milk.
She offered them up to me with a look of immense pride.
They had been tucked in there for so long that they were still radiating a gentle warmth from her body heat.
"A chocolate bun? And milk? What's all this about suddenly?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
It was ironic—when I had explicitly told her to fetch me something to eat, she had brought back that weird minty crap.
But now that I hadn't asked for a single thing, she shows up with exactly the good stuff I liked.
She truly was an unpredictable weirdo.
"Well... I was just so grateful for your help in the duel, and since I'm officially your minion now...!!"
She said her voice full of earnest sincerity.
She seemed to genuinely believe that my secret coaching was a world-changing deal.
It made sense—her life had been so pitifully destitute.
Even a small assist from someone like me would feel like a massive, life-altering event.
She might be as dumb as a bag of rocks, but this honest, grateful side of her was genuinely sweet.
Still... I couldn't help but notice her voice was getting a bit too loud for comfort.
If the other kids heard her, they might actually think I was bullying and extorting her for food.
Shouting the word "minion" from across the hallway... what was going through her head?
And sure enough, my minor worry turned into a reality faster than I expected.
"Ras, just because you've suddenly discovered a talent for fighting doesn't mean you have the right to bully and exploit your classmates."
"Especially not a noble harassing a commoner in broad daylight..."
The voice was soft, resonant, and carried an undeniable weight of authority.
It belonged to a refined beauty with elegant, delicate features who had appeared before us.
Her brown hair might have seemed plain on anyone else, but on her, it looked luxurious.
Marisa Adelaide von Valencia—the Prince's fiancée and the daughter of the mighty Valencia Duke Family.
Back when I attended the academy the first time, Marisa had been hailed as Leone's true queen.
The perfect, untouchable superwoman who excelled at everything.
But after fate had thrown both of our lives into the gutter, we'd crossed paths again as fellow outcasts.
Reconnecting as friends in the ruins of our world, I'd learned she was actually surprisingly scatterbrained.
Those old, bittersweet memories made me chuckle as I prepared to reply to her.
"Irha didn't get bullied; she got stronger under my guidance."
"And this bun? It's a small token of gratitude, no big deal."
"And hey, Lady Valencia, you might want to check your facts—I'm not a noble. I'm a commoner."
"It seems you classmates pay far too little attention to each other’s backgrounds, don't you think?"
"Ugh... Y-yeah, that's exactly right! I got some really great advice from him, hehe..."
Irha chimed in, nodding frantically. "But thanks for trying to back me up anyway, Lady Valencia?"
My ironclad defense and Irha's immediate backup left Marisa looking awkwardly off-balance.
She let out a little "hmph..." groan, her eyes widening slightly as she tilted her head.
She wasn't used to being wrong about social dynamics.
"Ahem, my apologies. It seems I stuck my nose where it doesn't belong."
"I don't know you well, Ras, so I had no idea about your status. Please accept my apologies for the assumption."
It wasn't a world-ending mistake.
But true to her incredibly uptight and principled nature, she made sure to apologize properly.
"Still, Irha... here in the academy, I'm just a fellow student like you."
"Please, feel free to drop the formalities. You don't need to call me 'Lady,' just Marisa will do fine."
"Ah! Y-yes... no, I mean, yeah...! Marisa!"
Irha squeaked, her eyes wide with shock at being told to use the Duke's daughter's first name.
Even as Marisa demanded casual speech from others, she herself always stayed perfectly polite.
It was the classic "honorific villainess" vibe that I remembered so well.
It overlapped so perfectly with her pre-regression self that I could only laugh internally.
My second love, Marisa.
In my past life, I had only ever brought you pain, broken promises, and endless apologies.
But this time, I will do everything in my power to make sure you are truly happy.
Far away from the Prince’s shadow.
"Anyway, you two—maybe we should all exchange greetings more often from now on?"
"Ah... but I suppose Rizli might hate that... Whatever, I'll be off. Enjoy the bun, Ras."
Having finally heard Irha's casual reply, Marisa returned to her seat with a satisfied, almost triumphant smile.
She really was a kind person at heart, but definitely a bit odd.
Irha, meanwhile, lingered in front of me, her fingers fidgeting as if she still had something more to say.
Her expression was hesitant, looking like a puppy waiting for a command.
Taking a closer look at her expectant eyes, I finally got what she was after.
"You did a good job back there in the arena, minion. I'm impressed."
"Hehe..."
That was all it took. She’d clearly been hoping for a quick pat on the back after her performance.
Even that casual compliment lit her up like a festival lantern.
She giggled to herself all the way back to her seat, looking utterly content.
Everything showed on her face—she was so transparent.
She’d even yelled out her attacks in the arena... Up close, Irha was an idiot through and through.
But I found myself liking people like her. It was refreshing.
Honesty like hers always wins in the end, compared to those who hide everything behind masks.
If only Rizli or Leon from my first life had been a bit more honest, they might not have crashed so spectacularly.
Thud—thud—
As I was sorting through my thoughts, I heard the sound of approaching footsteps.
It wasn't the usual, haughty and rhythmic stride Rizli favored.
These steps sounded completely deflated and drained of energy.
Rizli plopped down in the seat next to me, her face as pale as a ghost.
Whatever she had discussed with the Prince on the rooftop had clearly hollowed her out.
Gone was her usual arrogance, her superior air that always looked down on me.
She was desperately trying to feign composure, but I could see the raw, vibrating panic underneath.
The Prince must've told her straight to her face that I knew about her affair with him.
And judging by the sheer terror in her vibe, they'd gone beyond just that into even heavier topics.
Maybe he'd even admitted he knew our "engagement" was far more serious and financially binding?
Whether Leon had laid out hard facts or just prodded her, it was enough to drive her to the brink of insanity.
It meant that Leon now held the knife in their relationship—he could strike her down whenever he pleased.
So, under that intense grilling from the Prince, what path had Rizli chosen for herself?
Would she try to wipe me and everyone around me out again, just like she did ten years ago?
Or this time, would she finally make a more human, more courageous choice?
'Hey, come on Rizli... at least try not to cross that river this time...'
'My dreams have been shitty enough as it is.'
I sincerely hoped that she'd pick the bare minimum humane option.
If she did, I could let her live her life. But if she repeated the past... I'd respond with a fury she couldn't imagine.
If she chose correctly, I'd let it slide easy.
But if it was a repeat of the past, I'd send her packing without a second of hesitation.
And if it came down to blows, I wasn't planning on giving her a merciful, quick death.
If you really want to torment someone properly, it's always better to keep them breathing.
Pain, after all, always comes with life. Death is just silence.
Throughout the entire afternoon of classes, Rizli sat there like a stone statue—pale and silent.
The moment the bell rang, she vanished without another word, offering only a curt, hollow goodbye.
I had no clue what was churning in her head, but honestly, it didn't really matter to me anymore.
I'd given her the chance, a final opening. If she blew it, she was the only one who stood to lose.
As I left the empty classroom for the dorms, my mind began to map out solid plans for the future.
"Uh... wait... was there something else I was supposed to do that I haven't done yet?"
Something important was nagging at the back of my mind, but I couldn't quite place it.
"Eh, if I can't remember it now, it can't be that big of a deal...!"
*
"Haa... haa..."
In the suffocating darkness of her dorm room, Rizli de Gracia woke up drenched in a cold, oily sweat.
She had absolutely zero memory of how the afternoon classes had gone after that rooftop conversation.
Her eyes had been open, she had sat at her desk, but her mind was stuck on a loop.
'It's not just Ras who learned something new today, Rizli.'
'Tell me, why exactly did you hide your engagement to him from me for so long?'
That voice—colder and more ruthless than she had ever heard it—terrified her to her very soul.
Nothing of the playful Leon remained. This was a predator who had found a flaw in his prey.
'It might sound hypocritical coming from me, given our shared sin, but there is quite a difference, isn't there?'
'I have very little to lose in this scandal, but you... you would lose everything you have ever known.'
His hand had stroked her cheek, but it felt like a red-hot viper's tongue tasting her skin.
'The Gracia family must be in truly dire straits—I hadn't paid much attention before, but apparently so.'
'No matter how wealthy the Etgards are, selling your own daughter off to some commoner household...'
With just a few basic inferences, Leon had quickly pieced together the financial disaster.
Having his own high-level engagement, he knew exactly how these desperate noble contracts worked.
He didn't even need hard evidence.
Ras and Rizli's betrothal had been a quiet, secret affair, pushed into the shadows by Rizli herself.
The Gracias didn't want the world to hear rumors that they were "selling their daughter."
Ras's father had eventually relented, given the kids' youth and Ras's own desperate, tearful pleading.
They had formalized it with a ironclad written contract, of course...
But when Leon's prodding turned deadly serious, Rizli had crumbled to her knees on that rooftop.
She had no intent to deceive him, she babbled—she'd just been so smitten with her dream prince.
And the commoner engagement felt so suffocating, like a noose...
Excuses. They were all just hollow excuses to her own ears.
Gazing down at the kneeling Rizli, Leon had savored a rare, intense rush of pleasure.
Watching someone cornered, watching them beg for their life before him, was always his greatest delight.
He knew better than anyone that she should be pleading with Ras or Marisa for forgiveness, not him.
That knowledge made it all the sweeter. It was the thrill of supreme depravity.
Having witnessed her at her lowest, he knew he now had the power to squeeze the life out of her.
Leon had shifted from a brutal inquisitor back to a merciful lord in an instant, extending a hand.
'Rizli, what will you do now? Will you bow your head to Ras and Lady Valencia and beg?'
'Conscience and shame are always such bores, though—I might find myself quite disappointed in you.'
He never specified what her choice should be, which made the implied threat all the more chilling.
Trembling in terror, Rizli had clung to him like a lifeline.
'What... what should I do...? Please, tell me how I can satisfy you...?'
Leon had smirked, his fingers slowly loosening her shirt collar.
Then, as if he were stamping his permanent ownership on her, he left a deep, dark hickey on her neck.
'Abandon your conscience completely. Give up the idea of being human.'
'If you do that, I will personally forgive you and keep you by my side.'
'I happen to be quite skilled at scripting scenarios for these kinds of things, you see...'
"........."
Overwhelmed by the suffocating atmosphere, Leon had gently stroked the blue-lipped girl before leaving.
'Choose wisely, Rizli. Personally, I would love to chat with you again about the stage you'll take.'
'You have until midnight to decide...'
With those final, echoing words, something dark finally flashed through Rizli's hazy vision.
Ras Etgard. The man who loved her purely. Her fiancé. He felt like a source of suffocating guilt.
Marisa Adelaide von Valencia. The woman she admired and envied. Her lover's fiancée. More guilt.
The Gracia family. Her loathsome clan. A burden she carried every day. Shame. Suffocation.
All of these feelings twisted together into something grotesque.
Should she bash her head at Ras and Marisa's feet? Beg for their forgiveness honestly?
Would she have to grovel pathetically, banking on their pity just to survive?
The final piece in the warped landscape of her mind was Prince Leon.
He was terror personified, yet he possessed a fatally tempting allure that promised a way out.
The woman who finally awoke in the dark room was no longer tormented by the whispers of conscience.
Those things had been burned away by fear.
Rizli took a deep, shaky breath and scrawled a brief, final message on her Communication Magic Tool.
To: Crown Prince Leontidas.
[I will follow you. No matter what lies ahead on the path we have chosen.]
Her second fate had begun, flowing rapidly toward a point of no return. It was exactly midnight.