Chapter 7
If I died and returned to the past, things would be easier, but…
If she returned to the past, the child’s flogging would be neatly erased. However, Laila couldn’t recklessly attempt regression. She had no idea how many more times the Stone of Regression could send her back.
Since she had swallowed it, what if this time the stone had been completely digested and its effects had vanished? What if she died and couldn’t return?
Laila tightened her grip on the lamp’s handle. She had absolutely no intention of dying for nothing.
It’s fine, I can fix this. They say every crisis is an opportunity.
If she showed him how devotedly she could care for him, surely she would earn a little goodwill. Laila forced herself to think positively. Before long, she reached the bottom of the stone stairs, and the entrance to the dungeon came into view.
“Who goes there… Miss Laila?”
The fierce-looking soldier guarding the entrance recognized her.
“Hello, Hans.”
Laila approached him, addressing the soldier by name.
I’m in luck.
There was a saying about a silver lining in a dark cloud. This was a very tiny blessing, but the expression perfectly suited her situation.
“What brings you to a place like this, my lady…”
“I came to treat the boy’s wounds.”
“…Did you receive permission from the Marquis?”
“No.”
“Then I apologize, my lady. I cannot let you inside.”
Laila tilted her head back to stare up at Hans, blinking her unusually large eyes.
“Hans, you know what? I like you.”
“Excuse me?”
“So I don’t want you to become a murderer.”
“My lady, what do you…”
“And I especially don’t want you to become a murderer who kills a young child like me.”
“My lady!” Hans inadvertently raised his voice at the provocative words, but Laila continued without hesitation.
“You’re the one who hit the boy in there, aren’t you, Hans?”
Hans fell silent.
“So if that boy doesn’t make it through the night, doesn’t that mean you killed him?”
“That’s…”
Hans’s face turned pale, his eyes darting about helplessly.
Laila thought to herself that this was why she was in luck. Because of his intimidating appearance, Hans was often assigned tasks like this, but in reality, Hans had a soft heart.
And so…
“I know you’re a good father, Hans. Unlike my father…”
He also happened to be a father of two young children.
“You had to hit that kid because of orders, but you want him to live, don’t you?”
Hans did not answer.
“Do you want to kill him?”
“No!” Hans flinched, answering despite himself.
Laila smiled softly, as if relieved. “Right?”
He remained quiet.
“I’ll just apply the medicine and come right out. It won’t take long. It’s a clear ointment, so it won’t leave a trace. Please, Hans.”
Hans wavered, then squeezed his eyes shut and finally stepped aside from the dungeon entrance.
“You really must only treat his wounds and come right out.”
“I promise!”
“The next guard arrives to relieves me in two hours, so you must be out before then.”
“Don’t worry.” Laila, who had deliberately timed her visit for Hans’s shift, nodded.
“…Here are the keys. Use the fifth one from the left.”
“Thank you.”
Laila politely took the keys and crossed the threshold into the dungeon. Inside, a long corridor stretched out, sparsely lit by torches hung near the ceiling. On both sides of the corridor were individual cells with iron-barred doors.
The cells were mostly empty. In truth, the dungeon was rarely used, and Laila knew the reason. The Marquis was the type of man who chose to immediately kill those who fell out of favor rather than lock them away. Even the space where the boy was currently confined would soon be empty.
Laila had to achieve her goal before then. She couldn’t fail.
He said to use the fifth key, so maybe it’s the fifth cell?… It is.
Laila easily found the cell where the boy was locked up. The corridor was dim, but not so dark that she couldn’t see inside.
The boy lay curled up in the corner of the cell, motionless.
Laila unlocked the iron door and carefully stepped inside.
“Hey.”
No response.
“Hey?”
Was he unconscious?
Or could it be, already…
Seized by anxiety, Laila hurried over to the child, holding her lamp out. Stopping just a short distance away, she froze. The boy’s eyes were closed, but he was breathing.
He was breathing, but…
The wounds…
Laila’s gaze fixed on the boy’s bare back. His small, thin back, clearly revealed by the lamplight, was completely covered in the paths left by the whip. Each wound looked deep. At the gruesome sight, Laila was momentarily at a loss for words.
They beat a child until he ended up like this?
And…
He endured this much without saying a word?
I have committed a mortal sin.
The Marquis had ordered the child to be flogged until he said those words. In other words, the flogging would have stopped the moment the boys uttered his confession. But not even the first syllable of “mortal sin” had slipped from his lips, even until the sun went down.
Eventually, when it had grown completely dark, the Marquis issued a new order to stop the flogging. Perhaps he hadn’t wanted to kill the child so pointlessly. And so the child lived, but… She wasn’t sure if this could truly be considered living.
Laila knelt beside the child, who was quite literally barely clinging to life. She had come all this way because she was expecting him to be in this condition. Hadn’t she guessed the entire time she was coming down the stairs that his breathing would be faint?
But picturing the situation in her head and seeing the scene with her own eyes were two completely different things. Laila set the lamp down a bit further away so it wouldn’t be a hindrance and hurriedly took the medicine container out of her clothes.
“You’re really something else,” Laila muttered without realizing it. Was that why he would become the hero who fought the Evil God in the future?
“…If only you hadn’t killed me, I might have been one of the people praising you.”
Though it was a completely meaningless hypothetical.
Laila moved her hands diligently. She opened the container, scooped out a generous amount of ointment, and slathered it all over the child’s back. It didn’t matter where she applied it as everywhere her hands touched was a wound.
When the medicine container, about the size of a child’s fist, was empty, Laila let out a sigh. Then, she took out the medicinal herbs she had secretly brought.
He has to chew and swallow this, but…
Laila stared at the unmoving child.
…He won’t be able to swallow it, will he?
She imagined trying to force him to swallow it with water, but immediately shook her head. Laila had no medical training. A reckless attempt could end in disaster. The water might accidentally block his airway…
After agonizing over what to do with the herbs, Laila placed them between her palms and rubbed them together to crush them finely. Then, she carefully pushed the crushed herbs into the child’s mouth.
He’ll swallow it on his own when he wakes up.
That was it. She had done everything she could.
After using all her supplies, Laila looked down at the child for a moment. He was small. It struck her anew. Judging by his face alone, he seemed to be around her age, but he appeared to be a bit shorter than her.
…He’s this small, yet he grows so big in ten years.
No one would believe her if she told them how tall and broad he would become. But even if they did believe it, no one would care. Not her father, nor her half-siblings. Given the kind of people they were. Would they even consider this boy a human being right now?
Laila bit her lip slightly, then stood up. Perhaps she had been too tense while treating him, because a faint dizziness and intense fatigue washed over her.
Let’s hurry back and rest.
Thinking that, Laila turned around. But the moment she took a step toward the lamp, she pitched forward onto the floor.
A sharp gasp caught in her throat. Laila looked back, barely managing to swallow her scream.
When had he woken up? The boy, his eyes open, was grabbing her ankle.
