CH 4

— Imperial Calendar Year 588. April 16th. Afternoon.

Ophelia Bolsheik, the first of the second infinite regression.

Ophelia opened her eyes. Whenever she returned after her death, her vision always spun for a while, but she got used to it, so she immediately grasped her surroundings.

First return, the second start of infinite regression.

Richard was poisoned by tea, and she was decapitated by someone she did not know.

‘The face of the damn bastard who cut my head off… I should have seen it.’

Ophelia clenched her teeth.

The nightmare of the day of the founding anniversary, which was the first infinite return, began to rewind in front of her eyes.

Her stomach was churning and she felt very nauseous. She had to cover my mouth, but as she was holding her neck with both hands without realizing it, a dry voice fell from above her head.

“Are you okay?”

Unlike Ophelia, who had turned so pale as though her body didn’t have a single drop of blood, Richard was just as calm as if he was a monk.

‘No, could that expression be called calm? …Should I say that all the emotions have weathered and disappeared?’

Ophelia shook her head violently, and he opened her mouth again.

“You said you did your first infinite regression at the National Founding Day celebration.”

“…Yes.”

“You know now that it’s just the beginning.”

She could understand why he gave up, even without hearing him say it.

The reason why he readily reached out.

The reason why Richard gave up.

Regression was not important. Even death could pass. Simply.

The fact that there was no end in sight.

Realizing that.

But… 

She didn’t want to live a life of misery and death in that way, suddenly possessing a character in a novel. 

‘If I had died at once, it would have ended while I was just stumbling around like when I just possessed!’

The process of death was harsh and painful. In addition, the pain and despair felt as five internal organs were twisted and blood spurted from the body remained in Ophelia even after returning…

Ophelia resolutely clenched her fists and shouted.

“I won’t give up though!”

Richard’s eyes lit up for a second.

However, it was such a brief moment that Ophelia did not see it, and even Richard himself did not realize it.

“If I felt like giving up, I would’ve already given up at the national celebration! Thinking about the hardships I went through while living and dying without knowing why, I can’t give up even if it’s unfair!”

“Didn’t you say your only purpose is to survive?”

Ophelia crossed the arms in front of her chest, making an expression that said ‘why are you asking something so obvious?’

“That’s right. And it’s still unfair.”

At that, the corners of Richard’s eyes crinkled slightly, as if smiling.

Of course, Ophelia doesn’t have good visual acuity to recognize Richard’s subtle changes in expression. Anyway, she didn’t feel so, so she grinded her teeth and said,

“Having my neck sliced away, it’s the most disgusting way to die. How was it for Your Highness?”

“The poison that slowly paralyzes the fingertips and eventually stops the heart is the most memorable. My assassination client wanted to display my outer shell and said to kill me without any scratches.”

(TL/N: I’m pretty sure he’s joking ;_; don’t take everything he says at face value!)

Taxidermy…? Ophelia’s face crumpled very reluctantly, then she shook her head.

“It’s not memorable, it’s dirty.” 

“It’s nothing special.”

“Yes? What, nothing?”

“Yes. Death comes fairly. There can’t be a way that I don’t particularly dislike.”

“Still, I want to avoid this kind of death…”

Ophelia’s shoulders stiffened in the middle of a debate about which death felt the worst.

“No, not this. It’s time for Marquis Neir to come soon…”

—Tok tok.

Before she could finish speaking, a knock rang out.

Ophelia swallowed her saliva and looked up at Richard.

Because she still hasn’t heard any answers from him.

“Your Highness.”

He didn’t reply, but Ophelia didn’t give in and asked.

“Could you please cooperate?”

“Well.”

At his ambiguous answer, Ophelia barely swallowed the words that had been pushed to the tip of her tongue.

—I am afraid of a future where I’m worn out like you and eventually lose the will to break free from this invisible bond.

She couldn’t bear to say so.

Richard looked at Ophelia, whose face clearly showed there was something else she wanted to say but decided to keep her mouth shut. Then he said,

“Lady.”

“Yes.”

“Even if I survive this time according to your wishes, you know that this regression will never end anyway.”

“Yes, I know.”

“But you still want to survive? Forever.”

It was a voice that sank as if it were creeping into a deep swamp and suffocating.

Ophelia’s blue eyes and Richard’s golden eyes met head-on.

Her eyes shook like a stormy sea, but her answer did not change.

“Yes.”

How long was this suffocating silence?

Richard held his hand out towards Ophelia as before the return.

“Let’s go.”

Once more, just like before, Ophelia held his hand.

Again, facing Marquis Neir and his daughter, Richard still had a grim face, but Ophelia’s eyes shone differently than before.

The male protagonist’s nemesis.

The last villain.

Wasn’t it the Marquis of Neir? It was hard to believe that the surprised expression on Marquis Neir’s face when Richard collapsed was a lie, but if it was that Marquis Neir, even that could be acting.

In fact, if she had to point out who had the strongest motive and the best means to poison Richard, it would be Marquis Neir.

“…Please give me your opinion…”

Ophelia narrowed her eyes as she heard Marquis Neir’s words with one ear and let it flow out through the other.

She didn’t know as she had her head bowed before, but it seemed the marquis was smiling a little.

‘It smells very fishy…’

If it was a smile with dark insides, it would normally be expressed as stinky, so there was no substitute expression for that smile other than that it was fishy.

But a villain like that was so sloppy that he didn’t poison himself and only poisoned Richard?

Wasn’t that too clumsy?

Hence, it must be a completely different bad guy unrelated to Marquis Neir.

It’s perfect, but like the protagonist of a fantasy novel, hardships and trials always come.

Even without reading the novel, for the protagonist to stand out, any enemy must appear and be defeated.

Wouldn’t it be about a city’s population if Richard’s minor enemies were added together?

So she couldn’t be sure of anything right now. Even if she kept dying over and over and found a way to survive, there was a chance she wouldn’t find the real poisoner.

‘It’s coming soon.’

Soon, Richard would drink the tea, and it would be time for her to be decapitated.

‘Well, we’ll think about finding the culprit once this regression is over, and once Richard doesn’t drink that tea…’

“Your Highness!”

Ophelia made a loud noise without realizing it. It was because Richard picked up the teacup in question.

All eyes were naturally focused on her.

Ophelia, who was staring intently at Richard holding his cup, felt something strange.

‘Why is he holding his glass like that?’

There wasn’t a particular compulsory way for one to hold a teacup, but anyway, one wouldn’t hold the entire cup while drinking tea. Since it’s hot.

‘It’s like trying to hit someone with that little teacup…’

Ophelia’s thoughts did not continue. She paused as she tried to rub her cheek unconsciously.

‘My cheeks are too hot.’

The eyes of Lady Neir towards Ophelia were getting deeper and stronger.

‘If I don’t deal with this situation first, I’ll be burned to death by the gaze of Lady Neir before my head is cut off.’

Even though it would all be undone if she returned, Ophelia did not have the slightest desire to go back.

‘Come to think of it, I just watched Richard raise his glass and reflexively cried out.’

But Ophelia was very brazen and made up a reason in an instant without even moving a muscle.

“Your Highness, the cup is not completely intact, so I will bring a new one.”

Of course, the glass was totally fine. There was no way that the teacup that would come in front of Richard could be placed without careful inspection.

Dozens of goddamn regressions on the day of the National Founding Day anniversary. Thanks to that, her spontaneity in dealing with sudden situations like this improved.

But in the next moment, Ophelia stood still, unable to do anything.

As what happened was exactly why she thought Richard held his glass in such a weird way.

—Plok.

The temple of the servant on the left was broken along with the teacup he was holding.

Ophelia’s jaw dropped.

“Your Highness! What is this…”

It wasn’t just her who was shocked. Marquis Neir was astonished in a different way than before the return, and Lady Neir also had her eyes wide open.

—Sureung.

And before Marquis Neir finished speaking, Richard drew his sword.

The marquis’ face was distorted, but Richard didn’t give him a single glance.

The black-haired prince raised his sword without hesitation as he looked down at the unconscious servant whose head had just been hit and blood was dripping out of it.

—Euck.

The sword was lodged in the human body, and there was the sound of bones being crushed.

“Uck.”

The servant crossed the river from which he could not return without opening his eyes, and Richard lightly pulled out the sword caught in the broken bones.

—Euck, euuuck.

A voice starker than before resounded in the room as silent as a grave.

At last, the moment the sword was fully pulled out, Richard and Ophelia’s eyes met.

He glanced once at her neck, which was still attached, and once at the dying servant.

‘That… was the someone who cut off my neck.’

Even if Richard didn’t say it, Ophelia knew.

As she slowly closed her gaping mouth, Richard tilted her head slightly and swung his sword again.

—Srung.

The servant’s head, which was cut off at once, rolled across the floor and crashed into the toe of Marquis Neir, stopping.

Blood pooled at his feet, but Marquis Neir was not fed up.

Just that the corners of his mouth were twisted.

So the situation was quickly settled.

Contrary to Ophelia’s complex calculations, Richard stopped the regression too quickly and simply.

Even if there were still people who tried to harm Richard, as long as he drew his sword, they would not be able to brush the tip of his hair.

Blood from the decapitated body reddened the white carpet. And the severed neck.

Fortunately or unfortunately, Ophelia did not have the urge to vomit her guts out, thanks to the tiring sight of a return to the last National Day.

She just covered her nose at the stench of that dreadful, vivid blood.

But Richard, the creator of this mess, carelessly threw the sword with blood and flesh stuck to it and said,

“Marquis, continue what you said.”