Succession Round 2, Lord Ransel.

30.

Lancel imagined the first day of this iteration for Marigold as a Regressor.

The flood of memories from countless lives crashing in at once.

He imagined the shock and despair she must have felt, believing herself to be the cause of all misfortune.

Those three years of blankness, he thought, she might have spent them in agony, day after day.

In a place where he wasn’t.

Locked away, alone.

-The last time.

-This is the last time.

-Because this is the last time, I have to make sure I have no regrets…

Lancel vividly pictured Marigold finally sitting at her desk, pen in hand.

He imagined a smile finally gracing her face as she looked at the small notebook.

And then, slowly, deliberately, she would have written something down.

The things she wanted to do in this life.

The memories she wanted to share one last time.

Lancel somehow vividly imagined Marigold, having finally sorted out all her feelings, embarking on the long journey to the Dante Family.

“…You shouldn’t be with me, Lancel…”

Marigold’s avoidance of him might be out of fear.

Fear that her carefully organized heart would waver, fear of returning the same misfortune to Lancel.

Fear. Fear. Fear.

“You’ll become unhappy.”

Lancel clenched his teeth.

“Just be selfishly happy, Marigold.”

His grip on Marigold’s wrist tightened. Her face contorted.

“Just stay with me, go to festivals, eat expensive food, buy clothes, collect jewels, raise animals in a big mansion, just be easily, simply happy.”

What was he even saying?

Lancel himself didn’t understand the words he was speaking.

“I’m saying I’ll be there for you. Everything you want to do, everywhere you want to go, everything you want to eat, I’ll listen to it all.”

He was just blurting things out as they came to him.

“I’m saying I’ll do everything I can, so why are you being so stubborn and running away?”

Marigold, who had been biting her lip, finally spoke.

“It’s okay, I’ve already done everything I wanted to do, so I have no regrets…”

“You’ve barely done half of it, and I’ve seen it all?”

Lancel rummaged through his pocket, pulling out the tattered notebook.

Marigold’s eyes widened in shock.

“W-where did you get that!”

“There are places to get everything. Too bad, Marigold. You’re in the palm of my hand.”

“Give it back, it’s mine…!”

“Not if I can help it.”

He pulled the hand holding the notebook back.

As if to make sure Marigold heard, who was struggling to take it back, he began to turn the pages and read aloud.

“Number 31, raise a pet. Number 32, start a business together and save up for travel funds. Number 33, spend a night together on a cruise ship.”

“Ugh! Ughhhh! Ughhhhhhhh!”

“Number 34, spend a spooky, chilling night in a cave. Number 35, secretly… in an alleyway on a street where people pass by? I’ll pass on this one.”

“Gaaaaah!”

“Number 36. Spend a night mixed in with merchants. Number 37, on a running horse… is that even physically possible?”

“Guh!”

Marigold screamed.

Her shameful desires were pouring out of Lancel’s mouth.

“Number 60. Dress me up as a woman and participate in the village festival together? Absolutely not. No way.”

“Hiiiik!”

“Number 61.”

“Gweh.”

Lancel, having read all the way to number 70, turned to look at Marigold.

“You’re not even halfway there.”

Lancel pocketed the notebook and looked at Marigold.

Her face, stained with tears, was flushed red.

“You still have no regrets? Still?”

“No…”

“Look me in the eye and say it.”

He grabbed her shoulders and brought his face close to hers.

Marigold and Lancel looked at each other more closely than ever before.

“Do you really have no regrets now? You don’t need to see me ever again? Forever, in every life, you don’t need to see me again?”

“I…”

“Or… do you hate me now?”

“…!”

Her eyes widened.

“If you say you hate me right here, right now… I’ll leave without any regrets. If not, don’t ever try to put on a false front in front of me again. Now, say it.”

When he spoke with sincerity, Marigold’s face became tearful once more.

“…Ha…te…”

“Say it.”

“…H-ha, ha, haaaaa…”

“I can’t hear you.”

Just say it.

Marigold knew it too.

Lancel was serious now.

“…Ha…te… Ha…te…”

She kept moving her lips. The process was endlessly repeated, as if she were fighting something within herself.

Lancel waited patiently.

“…You…”

Marigold’s head drooped.

“I hate you.”

Her arms, which had only been pushing him away, weakly embraced Lancel.

“I hate it too. Not seeing you,” her listless voice came from within his arms.

“But… I hate it even more if you become unhappy, Lancel.”

Lancel held her tightly, wrapping his arms around her back.

He felt the boiling inside him slowly subside. Lancel was regaining his composure.

“I told you, Marigold.”

He cupped the back of her head with his hand.

Her whole body was hot with fever. The back of her head was especially hot.

As he stroked the top of her head, he felt a slight bump. Did he flick her forehead too hard? It seemed like she had a bump.

-Once I’ve taken it over, I’ll never give it back.

“I’m not giving it back.”

Yes.

If he had taken over her life, he had no intention of giving it back.

A cold wind swirled around them.

Silence slowly descended on the top of the bell tower. Only Marigold’s trembling shoulders and hiccups could be heard.

‘But it really is bumpy.’

Lancel touched Marigold’s bump again. He was a little too flustered to think about controlling his strength.

31.

“Why can’t I do anything right, Lancel?”

Marigold muttered in the shadows of the dark bell tower.

After wiping away her face, which had been covered in tears and snot, only she remained, her nose turned red.

“The last time, and this time too. Why am I so consistently hopeless?”

“…It could happen.”

Honestly, Lancel couldn’t stand tall in front of those words. He wasn’t a great person either.

Not now, and not when he first became a Regressor. In fact, there were many times when he was even more of a mess than she was.

There were times when he had always grown with the help of someone.

This time, it was Marigold’s turn.

“…It’s nice, though.”

Marigold muttered in a sulky voice.

“Lancel, this is nice. Sigh.”

“What are you saying?”

Her hand brushed against Lancel’s butt as she muttered nonsense.

“But you’re going to die.”

“I have to try not to die.”

“…You always died.”

“That sounds like a curse.”

“…This time too, because of me, Lancel…”

He could still see the agitation in her heart.

It seemed like the image of Lancel dying a sudden, violent death somewhere was flashing before her eyes.

‘First of all, I have to survive.’

He didn’t know when Marigold’s mind would change again. She was someone who could bounce anywhere.

It wouldn’t be strange if she fell into self-pity again and did something useless.

‘Was it this difficult to make one person happy?’

A sigh escaped him.

Lancel was confident that he could endure war, pain, death, hunger, and thirst.

It had only taken Lancel three iterations to go from being a pampered son of a knight family to becoming the most unprecedented knight in the history of the empire.

There were times when he felt like there was nothing he couldn’t do if he set his mind to it, as he was treated like a hero wherever he went.

-If I set my mind to it, it’s not a big deal to have my statues erected all over the empire.

Of course, that was arrogance.

Considering how Lancel’s life had collapsed after that, it was nonsense.

But he couldn’t believe that he couldn’t make one person happy.

‘How is that even possible?’

He had no idea.

He still couldn’t see the answer.

Even after pouring in more than 10 iterations, it still felt like the first step. Everything was shrouded in mystery.

‘Should I just tell her that I’m a Regressor too?’

Lancel moved his lips.

The words didn’t come out easily.

‘Once I say it, I can’t take it back?’

Marigold would remember his words forever.

But was it worth telling her?

Even though he didn’t know what would happen?

“What should I do, Lancel?”

Marigold’s expression was blurry.

Marigold was still bothered by the fact that she couldn’t leave Lancel. It was clear that she was worried about what would happen in the future.

‘Should I tell her?’

Yes.

Let’s tell her.

He thought it was only a matter of time anyway.

“…Haa…”

After much deliberation, Lancel opened his mouth.

“Mary.”

In the next moment, a piercing scream and uproar echoed.

The sound came from below the bell tower.

“…?”

“Lancel, just now…”

.

.

.

As they went down to the ballroom, the uproar grew louder and louder.

Gradually, he could see nobles in party dresses running away with pale faces.

“Crazy! They’re all crazy!”

“Save me!”

“Kyaaaaaa!”

Just by looking at that, it was obvious what the imperial ballroom eve had become.

Lancel frowned at the bitter smell that he could feel from the hallway.

He pulled back the red cloth and entered the second floor of the ballroom, and he could see the situation at a glance.

“Kill them!”

“They’re traitors! Get rid of them all!”

“Treason! How dare you defy His Highness the Prince’s orders!”

In the chaotic ballroom, knights were mixed together, exchanging swords.

“What a mess. This damn country.”

Lancel chuckled.

It wasn’t the first or second time he had seen the empire going crazy, but this was a new case.

“Sa, save me!”

“Blood… blood is coming out of my body…!”

The ballroom eve had turned into hell.

Knights serving different members of the imperial family were constantly swinging their swords at each other.

Clang-!

He could see nobles who had not yet left the hall stumbling around.

“Kuaaaak!”

“Kyaaaaaaa!”

A scene of utter chaos in the ballroom.

The floor had long been stained with blood.

“Lancel, the empire is collapsing again! This is it! What I was talking about…!”

“Did you say that? And it hasn’t collapsed yet.”

Yes.

At this point, it was still in the process of a power struggle.

From now on, an even more hellish scene would unfold in the empire’s future.

He had already decided whose hand to take in it. He didn’t like it, but there was no one but that woman.

“Mary. You haven’t ever stabbed a member of the imperial family, have you?”

“…?”

He pulled out two ceremonial swords from the fallen knights. The blades were blunt, but that was enough.

“Let’s go.”

Lancel’s eyes flashed.

He was going to tell her when this was over.

His secret.