The Eve of Ivetta's Eighteenth Birthday
"It's a pleasure to meet you, my sponsor. I heard what you've done for the children and simply had to come thank you in person."
Her voice was quiet, perhaps because she was shy by nature, yet it carried unmistakable sincerity.
The woman bowed her head deeply in greeting.
"Thank you so very much."
The pink hair that the male lead had always raved about, calling it cotton-candy soft, fluttered gently in the air.
This can't be right!
The children followed their "big sister's" lead and offered their own thanks.
"Thank you."
"Thanks for scolding the bad priests."
"The blankets smell really nice."
"We had stew yesterday."
They chattered on about everything that had happened since then, their little voices bubbling with excitement.
The way they bragged about every last thing was utterly adorable.
No. It can't be. It absolutely cannot be.
After a long while of mixing gratitude with proud boasting, the children returned to their guardian. They clearly felt thankful toward us and held us in affection, but children will be children—the person standing right in front of them came first.
They clutched at the woman's apron, babbling away like baby birds begging their mother for attention.
"Ivetta, can we have stew again today?"
"Ivetta, guess what—Tom did something earlier..."
"We have guests. You must mind your manners."
So her name is Ivetta.
It was exactly the same as our female lead's name. How astonishing.
"U-um, may I ask how old you are?"
I knew the question was sudden and probably sounded bizarre, but I couldn't stop myself from blurting it out.
Please, let her be one of those people who looks deceptively young but is actually thirty!
The woman, who had been chatting with the children, blinked at the abrupt inquiry, then smiled warmly.
"I'll turn eighteen on the next Day of the Sun."
Minos, the god who governed all things radiant—birth, love, and every shining grace—was also the sun god. That explained why Ivetta had been born on the day with the longest sunlight.
It was her. It was definitely her.
This was the final nail in the coffin.
There was no way another pink-haired, blue-eyed Ivetta could exist in a temple run by corrupt priests. Especially not one sharing the exact same age and birthday.
I'm doomed.
According to the original novel, the turning point in both of Ivetta's first and second lives arrived on her eighteenth birthday.
In her first life, Ivetta had only just become an adult and was already exhausted from long-term abuse and crushing poverty. Even on her birthday she had been so busy with chores like cleaning and laundry that she only realized what day it was in the evening. She had no room to breathe.
Yet for Ivetta, the birthday that marked her coming of age still held a sliver of special meaning. It felt like an achievement after a lifetime of nothing but suffering.
That night, she prayed to Minos with all her heart for the first time in her life.
Please, let even the smallest fragment of your grace reach me so I can endure this life.
Her prayer was modest, reflecting how distant she found hope, but it was desperately sincere. The moment that humble, fervent prayer ended, Ivetta instinctively realized she had awakened divine power.
It was so faint she could probably only heal minor cuts, yet it felt as if Minos had answered her. She hoped becoming a low-ranking priestess would improve her situation even a little.
Unfortunately, the moment Ivetta awakened her power happened to be when the High Priest was looking for disposable low-ranking priestesses he could use and discard without consequence. The supervising priest, displeased at having only a mere low-rank, handed her straight over to the High Priest.
Once transferred to the Grand Temple, Ivetta had an ancient curse known as "Will-Stealing"—once used on slaves in antiquity—forced upon her soul. She was then dragged into every dirty, back-breaking task they could find.
She was treated like a cheap tool to be used harshly and thrown away.
Then the Emperor began implementing policies that weakened the temple's power. Panicked, the High Priest shoved Ivetta into an operation with almost zero chance of success.
It involved searching for an ancient holy relic said to grant wishes.
Several priestesses in similar situations were sent in, but Ivetta was the only one who survived until the end. She did obtain the relic, yet her own condition was dire. She had sustained severe injuries, and with her divine power completely drained, she couldn't even heal herself. She was slowly dying.
Only at the brink of death did the Will-Stealing curse finally release her in a dramatic twist.
During the time she had lost her free will, she had been the High Priest's puppet and committed countless atrocities. The guilt tormented her. She offered her second sincere prayer in life, desperately begging that the goddess's mercy might reach the souls lost to the High Priest's greed.
And then the holy relic she carried activated, sending her back in time.
When the Minos artifact triggered, Ivetta returned to the day of her eighteenth birthday—the day she awakened her divine power. That became the start of her second life.
And that birthday is the day after tomorrow.
Right before that critical moment, I—a character who had no connection to her in the original story—showed up, showed kindness that never existed in the novel, and helped the children escape the orphanage. I had also removed the priests who caused her so much harm in her first life.
No. As long as the regression on her eighteenth birthday happens properly, it should be fine.
After she awakens as the Saintess, the High Priest will eliminate the other priests both to silence them and to win her favor.
They were all going to be removed from the story anyway.
Viewed that way, there was still hope.
"Everett, would it be all right if we stayed here a little longer?"
This business trip had been half vacation anyway, and I still needed to meet Priest Harkan. I decided to spend the remaining days of the ten-day trip right here.
I would feel more at ease if I could watch over Ivetta on the day she came of age.
Baron Orso had offered us rooms in the lord's manor, but I insisted firmly and we ended up staying at the temple. A day that felt like a month passed.
There's still two days left.
Time refused to move. I gradually lost my appetite. They say stress is the root of all illness, and I couldn't fall asleep easily. Even when I did manage to drift off, I woke with a headache worse than any I'd had after overwork.
Everett watched my worsening condition with deep concern.
"Have you been cursed with some kind of health-destroying hex?"
Everett glared at the Minos statue with irreverent eyes.
"You shouldn't say things like that here. Minos might be watching," I said, forcing the corners of my mouth upward to comfort him.
"Should I go down to the village and fetch a doctor?"
Since this wasn't a physical illness, it wouldn't help. If I told them the headaches and insomnia were from stress, they'd just advise me to rest and relax.
"It's not that serious. I'm just a little tired."
I turned down the doctor. Still, Everett hovered around me for a long time before finally announcing he would turn in early and shutting himself in his assigned room.
The next morning, the moment I opened my eyes he held out a mug filled with water, as if he'd been waiting.
"You looked thirsty."
"Ahem, I only just woke up?"
I wondered if I'd talked in my sleep about being thirsty.
"Drink."
Everett offered me the water again. When I took the mug, the liquid sparkled as if someone had sprinkled glittering powder into it.
"Is this really just water? Why is it sparkling?"
I turned the cup this way and that, studying it. Everett looked away and muttered, "Must be the reflection from the sun."
There aren't any windows in this hallway.
Still, Everett wasn't the type to feed me anything strange. I quickly dropped my suspicion and emptied the mug.
The pounding headache caused by sleeplessness eased a little, and my rock-bottom condition improved. A vitality similar to the fatigue-recovery potions I sometimes drank from the Magic Tower when I hadn't slept enough spread through my body.
No, those potions feel like borrowing from future health. This feels more like taking a nourishing tonic.
Maybe it had contained some kind of herbal powder. But it had tasted like ordinary water.
Perhaps it's a tasteless medicinal herb.
My mind was turning slowly from lack of proper sleep.
"Do you feel a bit better?" Everett asked, carefully studying my complexion.
"Yes. Thank you, Ed."
I lifted the corners of my mouth in a smile. Yet because my worries hadn't disappeared, I still lacked energy.
Finally, Ivetta's birthday was tomorrow.