137.

I opened my eyes.

The sight of the carefully arranged safehouse, designed to minimize discomfort, came into view.

…It was probably Dante who arranged this place for me.

Fragments of memories surfaced, causing a pang of pain.

It would have been better not to remember at all.

If I could wipe it from my mind, tell myself it wasn’t my past, just a nightmare I’d dreamt and nothing more… it would have been nice to think that way.

“A book possession… my imagination must really be pitiful.”

I let out a scoffing laugh.

Possession by a book.

It was probably a defense mechanism at work.

Because if I acknowledged that I was living through the same time loop, each ending in someone taking my life… it would be too painful.

Since I didn’t retain all my memories each time I went back, the gaps in my memories… I’d reasoned those gaps away as due to “reading a novel where Marguerite was the protagonist.”

That’s what I’d convinced myself.

Dante, Lucian, Benedict.

The reason I thought these three men killed me was simple.

Lucian and Benedict, who had pledged loyalty to Marguerite and stood by as I died, as well as Dante… who was originally Marguerite’s chess piece.

If I got entangled with those three men, it would inevitably lead me to Marguerite, who would one day end my life. My best option was to avoid those men and, in doing so, avoid Marguerite.

If that’s the case…

I thought to myself, exhaustion pulling at my face.

‘How long do I plan to keep running?’

Am I really going to keep living like this, always under Marguerite’s thumb? To become just another character in the play she watches over and over until, inevitably,

[Boring.]

…she utters that word of judgment?

But then—

‘Wait a second.’

My eyes widened slightly.

A particular object on the wall had caught my attention.

“That’s…”

I stood up, almost as if in a trance.

It was a mana gun, one that was practically a work of art with its intricate silver detailing.

While Dante’s usual mana guns were purely practical, this one seemed almost ornamental.

I reached out and picked it up. The cold, heavy weight of the metal was unsettling.

But what surprised me wasn’t the weight.

“Hah…”

I drew in a shaky breath.

I felt something moving from me into the gun, as if something had been drawn into it.

‘Could it be…?’

On impulse, I aimed at the window.

Bang!

Crash!

The gun fired, shattering the window with ease.

I stared at the broken window in shock.

‘The gun… it fired.’

Which meant…

I could use mana.

How?

I had always been an ordinary person, completely without mana…

Puzzled, I suddenly recalled the odd sensations I’d felt before.

When Dante kept me confined in his safehouse in the past, I had sensed Marguerite’s presence even though she had used magic tools to mask it.

At that time, Marguerite had said,

[How did you sense me? You shouldn’t be able to.]

The way she’d said it… It was as if the very fact that I could sense her presence went against the natural order of this world.

‘It really is strange.’

I frowned, trying to piece things together.

Dante, too, had been unable to sense Marguerite. Even he, a chess piece chosen by Marguerite herself, hadn’t noticed her presence—yet somehow I, a mere ordinary person, had?

And…

‘…Sir Mason’s reaction was strange too.’

Before the imperial ball, when Benedict came to visit Lucian’s mansion, he had seen me there.

Sir Mason had tried to stop Benedict from meeting me, but…

[It’s just that it’s been so long since Benedict last saw Elze. Couldn’t you let them meet, even just for a moment?]

[Please, Sir Mason. Just this once, alright?]

At Marguerite’s light request, Sir Mason had stepped back without resistance.

Back then, I had sensed an unusual aura from Marguerite.

‘That aura must have been her magic.’

But the strange part was…

‘Why was I able to sense it?’

And now, Marguerite had stopped time. Since I didn’t possess any magic, I should have been frozen too.

As proof of this:

[How are you still able to move?]

Marguerite had asked me in utter shock.

I was curious too.

But now wasn’t the time to dwell on it.

I tightened my grip on the mana gun.

‘That’s not what matters right now.’

I glanced out the broken window, a resolute look on my face.

Beyond the shattered glass, everything lay completely still.

No wind, no sound, nothing.

Just silence.

I took a deep breath.

Once Marguerite rewinds time again, this world will crumble away piece by piece.

I’ll once again become a character in her endless play, hating Dante, Lucian, and Benedict over and over.

I refuse to be trapped in an endlessly repeating cycle any longer.

‘I need to get to the Kalleid townhouse.’

In all those hundreds of cycles, there had been rare instances when Dante and I regained our memories at the same time.

Dante had once told me something crucial then.

“There are a few conditions necessary for Marguerite’s time-reversal.”

First, Lucian, Dante, and Benedict.

Second, the time-reversal magic circle, centered around the Kalleid townhouse.

Third, the “Heart of Winter,” an artifact that controls Lucian’s overwhelming mana.

The House of Kalleid was a family created solely to support Marguerite’s time-reversal magic.

Marguerite was the founder of Kalleid, the one who possessed the family’s extraordinary powers.

And she was also the sorceress who created the Heart of Winter to control that power.

‘Right now, the Heart of Winter is damaged. If that’s the case…’

This means that, in casting the time-reversal spell, Marguerite would have to control Lucian’s power directly.

Even for Marguerite, that would take an enormous toll.

As evidence of this, Marguerite had only managed to stop time.

She hadn’t reversed it yet.

That alone was proof that she hadn’t fully reconstructed the time-reversal spell.

…Most importantly…

‘Dante.’

I hadn’t truly come to terms with my feelings for him.

This chaotic mix of love and hatred—I couldn’t bear it.

As long as I held onto these feelings, I would never be free of him.

They would shackle me for the rest of my life.

‘So… I have to go.’

With that thought, I dashed out of the safehouse.

* * *

6. Finally Breaking the Chains

The essence of the magical kingdom where spring reigned eternal—Sevrang Castle, heart of the Sevrang Kingdom.

Marguerite was born and raised within those castle walls.

In the gardens, bathed in endless sunlight, brightly-feathered birds sang beautiful songs, and the blossoms danced in waves.

“Princess!”

The kind-hearted people of the castle.

“Our beloved Marguerite.”

Parents who loved her wholeheartedly.

The king and queen, revered by all.

“Busy today? Shall we have tea together?”

Her playful yet warm older brother.

The crown prince, destined to become the next king of the magical kingdom.

“Yes!”

Marguerite nodded eagerly with a bright smile.

The mistress of the Spring Garden, adored by everyone in the kingdom.

Marguerite was the happiest girl in the world.

And her happiness had always been in the Sevrang Kingdom.

So…

‘I have to go back.’

With that thought, she blinked.

Marguerite lifted her eyelids.

Her gaze met the intricate golden embroidery on a crimson canopy.

A ceiling she had encountered countless times, over and over.

A ceiling she had no desire to see again.

Gazing blankly upward, Marguerite pressed her hand to her forehead, letting out a groan.

“Ah…”

The world in which time had stopped remained unchanged.

No matter how much she tried to light it, the fireplace refused to burn, and the air stayed forever as cold as ice.

Marguerite rose from her bed and moved to the window.

The sky was painted in shades of gray.

The snow, frozen mid-fall, was suspended in the sky.

Beyond, a garden blanketed in white stretched out before her.

A world devoid of wind, life, and everything else.

Staring at the scene for a long moment, Marguerite murmured, expressionless.

“I want to go back.”

Back to the dazzling spring.

Everything she had loved was trapped in the past.

“This place… it’s so cold and lonely.”

She didn’t know if she could survive alone in this empty world.

How long would she be trapped in this imitation of reality?

…It was all so overwhelming.

“I’m so tired of it…”

A faint shimmer of tears colored her quiet voice.