Chapter 5

　　Laila suffered until the next day, having thrown up everything she had eaten.

　　…Right. That’s how it had been.

　　In short, Marquis Hildegard had burned down the orphanage that had been the child’s home, and brought the sole survivor—as she inferred from the sparse context—back to the castle as a trophy.

　　It was truly an act of pure evil, but the worst part was that Laila couldn’t stop it, no matter what she did. Why? Because she lacked the power?

　　That was part of it, but the real issue was time. The journey from the capital to the Marquis’s castle took a week by carriage. So the marquis would arrive at the castle with the child… tomorrow.

　　In other words, by the time Laila opened her eyes in the past, the orphanage was already a pile of ashes. How could she possibly stop something that had already happened?

　　If only I had regressed to a week, no, a fortnight earlier…

　　Laila sighed in regret but quickly shook her head.

　　No, what could I do to stop a villain like him? Even if I went back then, I wouldn’t be able to prevent the arson.

　　So let’s not dwell on it. With that decided, Laila picked up her pen again.

　　Fourth: The moments right before and during my death do not remain in my memory.

　　This was somewhat of a relief. Laila immediately corrected herself. No, it was a huge relief. An incredibly, immensely, extraordinarily huge relief!

　　Just as she had written, Laila could not remember the exact moment she died before each regression. Her memories always cut off at some point right before her death.

　　Anything after that was just a blank, no matter how hard she tried to recall it.

　　Then again, if I remembered all of that… I would have gone insane a long time ago.

　　Nodding inwardly, Laila asked herself a question. Was there anyone in this world who could experience death multiple times, remember every single detail of the pain, and still remain sane?

　　“If there is, I’d bow down and serve them for life.”

　　Laila made the vow casually. She only said it because she was absolutely certain that no such person existed.

　　I mean, how could a person die multiple times in the first place? She was a unique case, thanks to the Regression Stone.

　　Come to think of it, not remembering the moment of death is also probably thanks to the Regression Stone. A stone that not only sent a person back to the past but also protected their sanity…

　　This isn’t a stone.

　　She had no idea who had first decided to call it a “stone.” If it were up to her, she would have named it the Regression Jewel.

　　Shaking off the silly thought, Laila put her pen back to the paper. Soon, the final sentence took shape at the bottom of the page. Because she pressed down hard and wrote each letter with deliberate care, it took her a relatively long time to finish.

　　Fifth: How do I avoid dying ten years from now?

　　It was neither a statement of fact, nor a record of something she knew, but a simple question. But it was more important than anything else…

　　Laila stared intently at the five sentences. A moment later, she brought the paper to the lit candle. The single sheet caught fire at once, curling into black ash.

　　As Laila watched it burn in silence, her eyes sunk into a gloomy shadow.

* * *

　　“Father, you’ve returned?”

　　“Welcome back, Father!”

　　“You must be exhausted from the long carriage ride. Shall I have a maid draw your bath right away?”

　　“No, you should have some warm tea first…”

　　The scene of Marquis Hildegard’s return from the capital was bustling and chaotic. Laila thought it was inevitable, so she stood a step back from the commotion. With well over ten people gathered in one space, wouldn’t it be stranger if it were quiet? Especially when the dozen of them were all simultaneously trying to catch the eye of a single man.

　　Laila stared at her siblings swarming the newly arrived marquis. Every single one of them was a half-sibling from a different mother. Idly observing their diverse ages and appearances from a distance, a question popped into Laila’s mind.

　　How many of them are there in total?

　　In truth, Laila didn’t even know exactly how many half-siblings lived in the castle. She had simply never cared. She wasn’t close to any of them. They hardly even exchanged polite greetings, let alone anything else.

　　They were no better than strangers—and some were worse than strangers. Why would she bother keeping track of how many of them occupied this vast castle?

　　I suppose I could count them right now, but…

　　Laila began doing a headcount, but gave up halfway. She really didn’t care. They weren’t her “real” siblings anyway. Even if they claimed to be her family, Laila would never accept it.

　　The fact that they shared different mothers was part of it, but… Laila unconsciously clenched her fists. Just then…

　　“Father, what is that?”

　　A voice ran out, so bright it bordered on cheerful. Laila flinched before quickly steadying herself.

　　He’s here. The moment I’ve been waiting for.

　　“Oh, you’re right. What is that?”

　　“Father brought something back!”

　　“It’s a person!”

　　“That’s a person? It looks so different from us…”

　　“Idiot! It doesn’t look different, it’s just filthy.”

　　The room erupted over the new topic. And the subject of that topic was…

　　“You mean this brat?”

　　Marquis Hildegard shoved the back of the child who had been half-hidden behind him. The child stumbled forward a few steps.

　　Under the bright hall lights, the child looked quite young. No more than ten years old, and that was being generous. He wore clothes far too loose for his frame, making him look even tinier. Black soot was smeared across his clothes, skin, and hair, and the grime made it hard to tell what the child actually looked like.

　　Though in her past life, Laila had seen through the filth the moment she laid eyes on him. Hidden beneath the grime, the child was as pretty as a doll.

　　It was true back then, and it was true now. Laila’s heart pounded the moment she laid eyes on him. Out of excitement? No, it was the exact opposite. She was terrified, anxious, scared out of her mind. Honestly, she wanted to turn and flee right this second.

　　No, Laila. Calm down. He’s just a kid. So for now… for now, it’s still okay.

　　As Laila tried to soothe her racing thoughts, the Marquis addressed the noisy crowd.

　　“He is of no concern to any of you.”

　　The Marquis gave an order to a nearby knight. “Lock him in the dungeon.”

　　“Yes, my lord.”

　　The knight seized the child by the scruff of his clothes to drag him away. The child didn’t resist, but his legs lacked the strength to keep up so he stumbled.

　　That was the exact moment that Laila dashed forward.

　　“Laila?”

　　Ignoring the voice of whichever sibling had called out, Laila knelt in front of the fallen child. She forced the sweetest smile she could muster and reached out a hand.

　　“Are you okay?”

　　Smack!

　　Startled, Laila clutched the back of her hand and scrambled backward. She immediately realized her mistake.

　　Ah. I messed up.

　　She shouldn’t have shown my surprise. She should have acted as if nothing had happened, as if it was no big deal. Had she done so, it could have been smoothed over quietly.

　　“Tsk. Causing trouble.”

　　The Marquis’s voice cut through the air and Laila’s heart plummeted.

　　“Flog that wretch until the words ‘I have committed a mortal sin’ come out of his mouth.”

　　It was obvious who “that wretch” referred to. Panicking, Laila urgently called out.

　　“F-Father!”

　　“What is it?”

　　Laila froze.

　　“If you call me, Laila, then you must speak.”