Chapter 1
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Under the Pale Moonlight (1)
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The boy felt as if he were dreaming.
His brain couldn't fully accept the scene unfolding right before his eyes.
The white mansion where he had been born and raised was engulfed in flames.
And in the garden outside the window, a handful of soldiers were stabbing their blades into an elderly man with snow-white hair.
That old man was the gardener who had always managed to find him whenever he fled from his tutor to hide in the backyard, sneaking him food in secret.
The boy had liked almost everyone in this mansion, but he especially loved the gardener who would smile kindly no matter what mischief he got into and make sure he had something to eat.
That was thirty years ago.
"This isn't the right time... We should've come at least a month earlier."
The black-haired boy stared out the window in a daze, murmuring to himself.
"Something's gone wrong. This isn't how it's supposed to be."
His mind seemed to have snapped as he muttered to himself while gazing outside.
A blonde maid roughly spun the boy around.
"Young Master, snap out of it! We need to move now!"
The maid, dressed in her servant's uniform, urged the boy who stood there blankly.
She was just as flustered by the sudden turn of events, but thankfully, she knew what needed to be done.
With everything in the mansion dying or burning away, her duty was to protect the boy standing before her.
"W-Wait... Just a moment."
The boy shook his head violently, as if trying to wake from a nightmare. He had no idea what was going on, but it was clear they needed to move.
His mind was a whirlwind of confusion after traveling back thirty years, but he recalled one of the deepest regrets etched into his heart.
"Let's go to Mother's room. We need to get the ancestral tablet."
"But we have to escape right now..."
"No. We have to take Mother with us. Emilia."
Seeing the boy's resolute gaze, Emilia had no choice but to nod and hurry out of the room.
And right on the heels of the maid followed the black-haired boy.
His once-warm mother was now enshrined in a small ancestral tablet no bigger than a handspan, cold and shrunken.
It had been less than a week since she passed, and the boy was determined to take even this cold remnant of her with him.
That was right.
The memory of failing to retrieve his mother's ancestral tablet over those past thirty years had always torn at his heart.
His father, still alive but soon to be beheaded, was beyond saving, but the boy was set on rescuing at least his mother's lonely tablet from being left behind.
"Understood. Let's hurry, Young Master."
Emilia nodded in agreement and grabbed a poker from near the fireplace.
Mother's room was very close to the boy's, just a few doors down on the same floor.
Fortunately, the intruders hadn't reached the third floor yet, and the corridor was empty.
Emilia blinked her large eyes in fear, holding the poker high as she moved cautiously.
But the boy boldly kicked open the door and strode into his mother's room without hesitation.
"Young Master."
"Screams are echoing everywhere anyway. What's one more door slamming? Speed is what matters now."
Emilia's heart dropped at the boy's daring action.
But she quickly pulled herself together and retrieved a hidden jewelry box from a secret spot known only to her and the room's owner.
While the boy carefully tucked his mother's ancestral tablet into his bosom, the maid emptied the jewelry box, stuffing its contents into her young master's pockets.
"We don't know what might happen. Madam didn't have many jewels or ornaments, but these should be enough to help."
They were jewels and trinkets that would only fatten the bellies of these unknown invaders if left behind.
If Nedrian, the boy's mother, were still alive, she would have praised the maid for emptying the box.
"Let's go, Emilia."
The boy rasped, clutching his mother's ancestral tablet.
Now they had to escape this place. They had to flee.
"Stay close, Young Master. Don't lose sight of me."
Instead of taking the elegant, well-kept corridor used by the mansion's owners, the blonde maid headed toward the narrow one reserved for servants like herself.
It was cramped, dim, and labyrinthine.
Emilia led the way, gripping the boy's hand tightly.
Feeling her trembling hand, the boy could gauge the depth of her terror.
Yet she didn't stop pressing forward for the sake of this small, young boy.
Thankfully, the invaders hadn't discovered the servants' corridor, allowing the pair to slip out of the building unscathed.
"Where to now..."
Emilia had been taken in by the boy's mother and spent her life as a maid.
"F-First, the back door."
Of course, she had no experience handling a crisis like this. Her only thought was to get out.
Unable to leave through the front gate with any dignity, she naively aimed for the back door.
But would the back door really be unguarded?
Naturally, every exit from the mansion was sealed by the invaders.
And there, in his past life, Emilia had died.
He remembered her clutching the arrow in her throat, gasping her last breaths.
And he remembered abandoning her, fleeing in tears.
Blanc remembered it all.
"I won't let that happen."
"Pardon?"
Emilia inwardly worried about the boy's mental state, given his constant muttering.
"Going out the back door now is impossible. Whoever they are, they wouldn't leave something like that unsecured."
No. He knew exactly who these bastards were—burning the mansion he loved, the one he longed for even in his dreams.
He remembered them clearly.
With this frail body, he couldn't do anything yet, but one goal of this regression was revenge.
"Then where should we go?"
"Follow me."
Though thirty years had passed, these moments were vividly etched in his memory from nightmares.
The boy crossed the garden with familiar steps, the blonde maid clutching her skirt and following close behind.
He deftly used the surrounding terrain and features to evade the invaders' eyes.
Having mapped a safe route, he beckoned Emilia with hand signals as they traversed the garden.
'When did he learn to move like that?'
Emilia wondered at her young master's movements, fluid like a trained soldier, but the urgency left no time for questions.
The pair reached the garden's edge stealthily.
But a massive stone wall loomed before them.
"Young Master, it's too high to climb over..."
Surrounded by such towering walls, a child like him and a frail maid like her had no hope of scaling it.
Realizing there was nowhere left to run, despair flooded Emilia.
'Oh, Madam Nedrian... I'm sorry. I don't think I can protect the Young Master.'
Staring up at the dead-end wall, tears streamed from her large eyes.
The thought of failing her promise—and her dying mistress's final words—filled her with overwhelming despair and sorrow.
"Emilia, what are you doing!"
"Sob... Madam..."
"Pull yourself together!"
Emilia snapped to at the boy's low, urgent voice and saw him frantically clearing bushes near the wall.
Beneath them was a small hole.
"Young Master?"
"No time to explain. Get in, quick!"
Crossing this wall would take them into the Cardmus Family's hunting grounds.
It was a vast forest full of wonders, perfect for sparking a young boy's curiosity.
To claim his secret hideout, the boy had eagerly dug this hole.
With the kind smiling gardener.
Even Palad Cardmus, patriarch of the Cardmus Family and the boy's father, likely knew of the hole.
Yet he left it be—a small gift for his curious son.
Not intended for this purpose, but ultimately, it was his father's thoughtfulness for his son that allowed Blanc to survive.
In his past life, after Emilia died, he had instinctively fled here with a blank mind.
Through here to the hunting grounds, then find Rakshar the gamekeeper. That's how he survived before.
Passing through here meant survival. His very existence proved it.
"Young Master, then hurry..."
"You first!"
This life had to be different. Unlike the failures, defeats, and despair of the last. And right now, one variable differed from before.
"Emilia, are you ignoring me?!"
Seeing the boy's blazing eyes and unyielding resolve, Emilia reluctantly crawled toward the hole first.
It was a tiny gap, just big enough for a child or a slender woman.
Fortunately, Blanc was a young boy, and Emilia had a slim build, so they should fit...
"Young Master..."
"Damn it."
But her hips were too wide for her slender frame.
"My butt's stuck!"
And at that moment, soldiers' voices rang out.
"Footprints here!"
"How'd a kid make it this far?"
Soldiers were suddenly visible, perilously close in Blanc's eyes.
Luckily, dusk was falling, darkening the surroundings, and the cleared bushes hid them for now. But if the soldiers approached...
"Young Master... Ugh!"
Flustered and struggling, Blanc roughly spread her legs and shoved her large hips with all his might using his shoulder.
"If you don't get out, we're all dead!"
"Y-Yes! Yes!"
Blanc kneaded her butt like dough, but with no time for embarrassment, Emilia strained with all her infant-fed strength to wriggle free.
"Eek! Eeeeek!"
Shoulders not enough, Blanc now pushed with his back.
His efforts paid off—her hips popped free, and her legs sucked out like they were pulled by a vacuum.
But the instant Emilia cleared the hole, the soldiers spotted Blanc.
"Here! The brat's here!"
"Blanc Cardmus! We've found the Cardmus Family heir!"
The soldiers blew their horns triumphantly upon spotting him.
"Fuck..."
The curse that spilled from the young boy's mouth was far too crude for his age.