Reine had regressed again. But this time, there was no transition—no darkness, no gasp for air. His eyes were already wide open, staring into the familiar wood-grain of the ceiling. It felt as if time itself had simply performed a jagged skip.
"So? You aren't gonna answer me?"
Argol's voice was sharp, cutting through the silence of the room.
"Answer what?" Reine asked, his voice raspy.
"Oh, so now we're acting dumb, are we?" Argol muttered. He looked down at Reine with a expression of deep disappointment—a look that hurt more than the physical toll of the previous loop.
Reine didn't answer. It wasn't because he was being stubborn; he genuinely didn't know where he was in the timeline. He couldn't even move his head to gauge the light in the room. He felt the familiar weight of exhaustion, but the context was missing.
Argol sighed, a heavy, defeated sound, and began walking toward the exit. Even without turning his head, Reine could hear the fading rhythm of his boots on the floorboards.
"Wait," Reine called out, desperate to bridge the gap. "If you're talking about my sudden growth... it's because of Aurelian. The sword granted me this power."
The footsteps stopped. A beat of silence followed.
'Wow, you're a really bad liar,' Aurelian's voice echoed in his mind. If the blade had a head, it would be shaking it in pure pity.
Argol turned back, looking at Reine with a flat gaze. "You know, it's obvious when you lie."
Without another word, Argol stepped out and closed the door. The room felt colder the moment he left.
'Is it?' Reine thought bitterly.
'Yeah, it is, Aurelian replied.
'How? I always thought I was good at it.'
'Hah. Maybe everyone just thought you were weird and didn't bother calling you out.'
Reine went silent. He knew he was weird. Back at the academy, he was the noble without a spark of talent—the anomaly. But he didn't have the luxury of self-pity right now.
"Aurelian... what do you know about regression?"
"You call it regression, do you?"
"Oh? Then what do you call it?"
The sword's presence grew heavy, a weight pressing down on Reine's chest. "I can't tell you that. But I can tell you one thing: this is not a power. It is not a blessing. It is a curse. The few people who have ever been touched by this became a curse themselves."
"I know that..." Reine whispered, a flicker of his past deaths—the blood, the failure, the cold—flashing behind his eyes.
"Oh? You seem to have some disturbing memories yourself," Aurelian noted, its tone shifting. "I can see them, you know. I always could. Seeing those images... I wonder how you even kept your sanity."
The open window let a draft of high-pressure air into the room, making the curtains snap like whips. Reine let the silence linger for a few seconds before breaking it with an intense look in his eyes.
"What would happen if someone told another person? About the curse? About the regression?"
"No one would believe it," Aurelian said firmly. "No one is crazy enough. They would think you were insane, which would only make the bearer more paranoid, more isolated."
Reine felt a wave of confusion.
"What if they would di—"
Reine was cut off.
The wind died instantly. The curtains froze mid-air. The birds outside went silent. The atmosphere turned otherworldly, thick with a pressure that felt like being buried alive.
"SHHHHHHH."
A mysterious voice whispered, the sound echoing so loudly it vibrated in Reine's teeth. Suddenly, Reine felt an invisible hand seize his throat. He was being choked. He tried to thrash, to move, to gasp, but his body was pinned by an absolute force.
Just as the edges of his vision began to spark and fade into a final blackout, the pressure vanished.
The wind surged back into the room. The curtains fluttered. The world breathed again.
"What if they would what?" Aurelian asked, its voice stern and suspicious.
"N-nothing..." Reine gasped, clutching his throat. He could still feel the phantom pressure of the grip. It hadn't been a dream or a hallucination; it was a warning. The entity behind the "Snap" had let him go with a close shave this time.
Aurelian remained silent for a moment, sensing Reine's genuine terror. "So, this curse... where did it come from?" Reine managed to ask once he regained his composure.
"I don't know," Aurelian replied. "I told you, my memory of those times is gone. But if you want to discover the truth, you'll have to find it in an Ancient Library...The Paekl Kingdom could be the right place"
Reine processed the information. The Paekl Kingdom was the largest and strongest power in the land. They documented everything—every conflict, every discovery of the last 200 years was stored in their Grand Library. If a record of his condition existed, it was there.
...
Two days passed. Reine, though not fully recovered, was finally able to move his body without the "metal chain" sensation.
The three of them—Reine, Argol, and Morgo—sat at the old wooden dining table, eating lunch in the quiet house.
"Are you really going tomorrow?" Morgo asked, taking a spoonful of rice.
"Yeah. We have to," Reine said.
"I see... where do you plan on going next?"
"The Paekl Kingdom. There's something important for me to find there, but I don't know the best way to cross the border."
Morgo's eyes lit up with excitement. "Oh, really? I can help you with that! Even with the war, they're letting mercenaries pass as long as they're associated with the Adventurer's Guild. You two are experienced; you could go without any problems."
Reine felt a bead of sweat drop down his face. He looked at Argol, then cleared his throat, hesitant to keep up the charade.
"Senior Morgo," Argol spoke up, his voice steady. "We aren't mercenaries. We're soldiers of the Herlem Army."
Morgo froze, his spoon halfway to his mouth. He looked at the two boys, searching for a sign of a joke. Reine kept his head down.
"I'm sorry, Senior Morgo," Reine added softly. "We actually fled from our duties."
Morgo remained silent for a long moment, then let out a slow sigh. "It doesn't matter if you're soldiers or mercenaries. You saved this village from a massacre. I alone wouldn't have been able to stop them."
"He's right!" a young voice piped up.
It was Alice, the little girl Reine had saved from the barrels. She was hiding behind Morgo's legs, peeking out with wide eyes.
Morgo laughed, picking her up. "Oh, you were hiding there, Alice?"
"Ahhh! Let me go!" she shouted, giggling as she playfully punched Morgo before squirming away and running off.
Reine was taken aback by their warmth. Even Argol seemed to soften, though a shadow still lingered in his eyes. Morgo turned back to the boys, his tone turning serious again.
"What I'm trying to say is that we wouldn't be alive without you. And because you let us keep the Orc bodies, this village won't have to starve for at least half a year. We owe you everything."
"So... you'll really help us?" Argol asked.
"I would love to," Morgo smiled.
Reine looked at the old man, a new determination sparking in his mind. "Senior Morgo... before that... could you teach me how to use magic?"