Chapter 1

　　Part 1: The Villain’s Daughter

　　Have you ever imagined the final moments of your life?

　　Laila had. Many times.

　　In her imagination, she always died of old age. She would live a full, long life and peacefully close her eyes around the age of ninety.

　　She’d be listening to the calm, sweet music of a band specially invited for the occasion, playing softly at her bedside. Surrounded by children and grandchildren who loved her and wept at her passing…

　　“Aaaagh!”

　　…But reality couldn’t have been more different.

　　Laila sat on the edge of her bed, glaring at the tightly shut bedroom door. Instead of sweet music, the agonizing scream from beyond the door made the hairs on her arms stand on end.

　　Ninety, my ass.

　　Laila was only twenty.

　　She had just celebrated her birthday a few days ago.

　　Children? Grandchildren? As if she had either!

　　Laila nervously bunched the bedsheets in her fists.

　　Meanwhile, the hallway beyond her door fell silent.

　　The screams that had been tormenting her ears finally ceased.

　　They’re all dead.

　　She had expected it, but still…

　　As Laila’s green eyes darkened, the bedroom door opened.

　　It swung inward with an eerie silence. Perhaps thanks to the maids who had so diligently kept the hinges oiled. Not a single metallic squeak escaped the hinges as the heavy door swung wide.

　　Laila stared at the doorway, her body rigid with tension.

　　A man stepped into the bedroom.

　　He looked to be in his early twenties, about the same age as Laila. He was tall enough that anyone would have to crane their neck to look at him, yet his face was notably small for his frame. His features filled that face perfectly, as strikingly handsome as if a royal artisan had spent countless sleepless nights sculpting them.

　　Then there was his hair and eye color. His blond hair was brighter than the midday sun, and his eyes were a rare, obsidian black like the finest volcanic glass.

　　In short, the man was handsome. Incredibly so.

　　But what did that matter? He was the grim reaper who had come to take Laila’s life. Did a scythe swung by a handsome reaper hurt any less? She had certainly never heard of such a thing. And even if it did hurt less, dead was dead.

　　Laila didn’t want to die. Not at this age, and certainly not like this.

　　The man strode forward on his long legs—even in this situation she noticed how long his legs were—and paused in the middle of the room.

　　“Are you Laila Hildegard?”

　　At the absurd question, Laila scoffed. “You have the wrong person.”

　　“No, I think I’ve got the right one.”

　　Then why bother asking!

　　Laila bit her lip. Of course, she hadn’t actually expected the lie to work.

　　There was no way he’d fought his way in here without memorizing her face. Feeling mocked, Laila felt a surge of irritation, but it was fleeting.

　　She spoke up quickly, before the man could swing his sword at her.

　　“I have something to say.”

　　“Last words?”

　　“…Something like that.”

　　“Go ahead.”

　　They’re not my last words. Swallowing her retort, Laila spoke.

　　“Please spare me.”

　　“No.”

　　“Wait, just hear me out.”

　　Why is this guy so impatient?

　　Laila grew just as urgent, letting her words spill out in a rush.

　　“I swear, I will never try to take revenge on you. I had a terrible relationship with the people you killed anyway.”

　　The man said nothing.

　　“I mean, if you spare me I won’t cause you any trouble down the line.”

　　He continued to just stare at her.

　　“So, won’t you let me live?”

　　“Do you want to live that badly?”

　　Is he going to spare me? Laila’s eyes widened in anticipation.

　　“Yes!”

　　“Then drain every drop of Hildegard blood from your body.”

　　Her eyes returned to their normal size.

　　“Do that, and I’ll spare you.”

　　Actually, her eyes narrowed even further than usual.

　　Drain my blood? That was…

　　“Could you perhaps give me a demonstration?”

　　“Are you finished with your last words?”

　　So he was just telling me to die after all!

　　Playing word games with someone this desperate—what a bastard.

　　Laila reflexively gritted her teeth, then cried out, “I still have a question!”

　　The man fell silent. Taking that as permission, Laila spoke at once.

　　“If, purely hypothetically… if ten years ago I had tried to prevent that incident and your death…”

　　That incident.

　　The man’s death.

　　Laila had possessed no power to prevent either.

　　She hadn’t in the past, and she… never would.

　　So, not ‘if I had prevented it,’ but ‘if I had tried.’

　　“Would you have spared me today?”

　　“Assuming you tried but failed? No.”

　　“…I see.”

　　At the firm answer, Laila nodded. So mere ‘effort’ means nothing.

　　Then I really shouldn’t bother.

　　She hadn’t planned on it anyway, but hearing his answer solidified her resolve.

　　Laila gathered her thoughts, looked him straight in the eye, and spoke.

　　“Hey.”

　　He gave her a questioning look.

　　“You know you have a terrible personality, right? If you didn’t, consider yourself informed. You’re a real piece of work.”

　　Wearing the mask of a hero while telling someone to drain all their blood.

　　It’s been a real pleasure. Now, let’s never see each other again!

　　Before the man could react, Laila quickly swallowed the small stone she had hidden behind her molars.

　　“Gah!”

　　Laila immediately clutched her chest and rolled off the bed.

　　It hurts!

　　It felt like she had swallowed a ball of fire. Her throat, chest, and stomach burned away one after another.

　　Was it supposed to hurt this much? I never heard anything about this.

　　But if I can just survive… The pain was so intense that tears welled up in her eyes. Through her blurring vision, Laila watched the man grip his sword and rush toward her.

　　Too bad. It’s already too late…

　　A moment later, Laila’s vision faded to pitch black.

* * *

　　Laila was the daughter of a cold-blooded, heartless villain. Every misfortune in her life stemmed from that single fact.

　　“Father, what is that?”

　　The year Laila turned ten, her father, Marquis Hildegard, brought a boy around her age to the estate.

　　“He is of no concern to you..”

　　But the boy was far too beautiful to ignore. Laila could tell at a glance that he was prettier than a porcelain doll. Her heart fluttered, but she never saw the boy again after that first day.

　　He was thrown straight into the dungeon. Every day, Laila would hover near the entrance to the dungeon stairs, pacing back and forth. She wanted to see him, but lacked the courage to sneak down into the cells herself.

　　Then, about a week after he arrived at the estate…

　　During breakfast, Laila heard that the boy had died.

　　“My lady!”

　　Laila collapsed on the spot. She woke up a few hours later and couldn’t eat another bite for the rest of the day.

　　Eight years later.

　　News that a hero destined to seal the Evil God had appeared sent the world into an uproar. It was joyous news, but Laila felt a deep sense of dread the moment she heard the rumors.

　　The hero described in the rumors looked exactly like the boy who had been dragged to their estate and died eight years ago. Laila hesitantly confided her fears to those around her, but all she received in return was mockery.

　　“A dead person coming back to life? What kind of books have you been reading?”

　　“Are you getting enough sleep lately?”

　　“Don’t tell Father. You know he hates crazy people!”

　　“Wait, was there really a kid like that at the estate?”

　　And exactly two years later, Laila’s fears—mocked by everyone as delusions—became reality. Just as the prophecy foretold, the hero sealed the Evil God and saved the world.

　　Then, he appeared at the Hildegard estate. And as if avenging a decade-old grudge, he slaughtered every living creature in the estate, not leaving so much as a single ant alive.

* * *

　　Laila gasped and bolted upright the moment she opened her eyes.

　　It was her bedroom.

　　Did it work?

　　She immediately checked the date on the desk calendar. Still unconvinced, she scrambled over to the mirror.

　　Laila stared blankly at the girl in the reflection. Ten years old. The young girl staring back at her looked exactly that age.

　　The date on the calendar is right. I’m back. Back ten years…

　　Laila curled up on the bed and hugged her trembling shoulders.

　　I survived!

　　The Regression Stone. A mysterious treasure said to instantly send a person back to the past if they died after swallowing it.

　　Laila had swallowed it in the future. And now, she had opened her eyes here in the past.

　　…Thank god I stole it.

　　The Regression Stone was a spoil of war that Marquis Hildegard had plundered after destroying another noble family last winter. But Laila had secretly swapped it out for a fake and smuggled away the real one.

　　How did I even have the nerve to do that?

　　Looking back, it had been sheer, reckless bravery.

　　Well, I was half out of my mind with anxiety back then…

　　Laila absentmindedly touched her chest and stomach. The agonizing pain she had felt right after swallowing the stone had vanished like a lie.

　　Suddenly, she felt a pang of regret. In her ideal scenario she had survived without having to use the stone. She had pictured a future where she sold it to make a massive fortune…

　　Well, I’ve already used it, so it can’t be helped.

　　Laila calmed her trembling body and climbed out of bed.

　　Besides, there are plenty of things here I can sell, so it’s fine.

　　She rummaged through the dressing room to find the plainest bag she could, then swept every piece of jewelry in the bedroom into it. She hid the bag under the bed and waited for night to fall. Eventually, a dark veil fell over the sky and a faint moon rose.

　　Goodbye, you damned villain! And this precious house you spent your life building! I’m out of here, so you guys can settle your future grudges yourselves!

　　Laila grabbed her bag and fled into the night. Slipping out of the estate under the cover of darkness was easier than she expected. The guard watching the narrow servants’ door accepted a reasonably valuable piece of jewelry and turned a blind eye to the hooded child slipping past him.

　　As soon as Laila was out of the estate, she hailed a carriage and headed for the neighboring territory. Sitting in the carriage and looking out the window, she let out a laugh as her nose began to sting with tears.

　　Laila dropped her head, laughing and crying at the same time.

　　I should have done this sooner.

　　A wave of regret washed over her.

　　I should have run away like this from the start.

　　It was this easy. With an escape route this simple, why on earth had she stubbornly endured that hellish family for so long? How incredibly foolish she had been.

　　It’s fine. I can start a new life now. I’m young again, and I have plenty of money.

　　Laila hugged the bag tightly.

　　It was already late when she arrived in the neighboring territory, so she decided to stay the night at an inn.

　　Maybe it was because she was excited for her new life, but even after unpacking her things and laying down on the bed, sleep evaded her.

　　Laila forced her eyes shut, trying to calm her racing heart.

　　Where should I go? It’d be safer to seek asylum somewhere, right? Tomorrow, I’ll head to the capital first, get a fake identity made…

　　The next day, Laila left the inn early in the morning and took a carriage heading for the capital. And an hour later, she died.

　　Her cause of death was robbery.