Chapter 3: “Leave Me Alone! But No One Listened (3)”:
Dragging my sword behind me, I walked down the empty corridor toward the old dormitory where my room was located.
The annoyance of having been disturbed lingered, and I roughly ran my hands through my hair. When my fingers caught on some dried blood between the strands, I finally had a moment to collect my thoughts.
If I used this sword right now, when Ethan Behemoth wasn’t watching, I could transition to the next life and confirm many things. That had definitely been my intention.
But I changed my mind.
I lifted my gaze from the sword and looked ahead once more.
I wouldn’t die. I wouldn’t forfeit the subjugation training just to avoid the curse.
‘This is an opportunity.’
In hundreds of regressions, I had never once managed to uncover the true nature of the curse.
If I could at least figure out who placed it on me and why, I’d make sure that bastard paid for it—no matter what it took.
But sadly, all I knew about the curse was that “It won’t end unless I reach the end.”
Even that single line had been discovered after digging endlessly through the old tomes in the Mage Tower.
I clung to that one line as I reached the end in a past life.
But everything still fell apart.
Even though I did see the “end,” I regressed anyway—and to make things worse, the regression point was strange.
So the only upside to this regression is probably this: that I’m still at a point before I received the curse.
‘If I play my cards right…’
Now was the perfect chance to return to that exact moment when the curse was first placed on me.
If I could just reveal the truth behind the curse, maybe the dream of completely erasing it and starting my life anew wouldn’t be so far-fetched after all.
Perhaps because I was dragging the sword, no one tried to stop me in the hallway.
When I opened the door to the small room beneath the dormitory stairs, a worn-out bed was waiting for me.
“Sigh.”
Creak.
As I sank my pathetically weak body into the sunken mattress, the sensation was utterly different from the silk sheets that had just recently wrapped around me.
The contrast made me feel even more miserable.
My cheek and palm still stung, but the lack of resentment was probably a side effect of my long history of regressions.
… I knew. I really did. That this situation—this life—calling it an “opportunity” was just a form of escapism.
But if I didn’t think that way, I might not have been able to bear it at all.
I thought I had finally reached the end.
So why… once again…
… I rubbed my forehead against the old pillowcase and forced my eyes shut.
Hoping that when I woke up, I’d be dead.
Of course, that didn’t happen.
The next morning, as soon as dawn broke, I got out of bed and tidied the old bedding.
I hadn’t slept a wink all night.
I had been going through the letters exchanged with my family.
I was terrified something might have happened to them around this time. And the result?
‘A sigh of relief.’
Nothing unusual. I just had to focus on the subjugation training, which was now right around the corner.
I’ll break this curse and return to my family.
First, I need to replenish my lacking mana.
“…Ready.”
I muttered quietly, inspecting my face in the cracked mirror, spider-webbed with deep fractures. I didn’t even remember when it had broken.
It didn’t reflect my whole face, but it was better than nothing.
Once I tightened the tie over my cape just right, the complete look of my academy uniform felt strangely unfamiliar.
‘Neat enough.’
It had been a while since I’d dressed myself. But this looked okay, didn’t it?
After double-checking that I hadn’t misbuttoned anything, I opened the door.
Thud.
As the door opened, Jan’s sword, which had been leaning carelessly against the doorway, toppled over. Ah, right. I forgot this was here…
“……”
I stared at the sword, then picked it up and strapped it to my waist.
Just in case. Better than being barehanded.
Since there were no classes the day before the subjugation training, the hallways were packed with students.
The sparring grounds and training rooms were so crowded with people polishing their skills—or watching—that they even had waiting lines.
Of course, some students weren’t focused on their training at all, preferring instead to gossip about me, the academy’s current hot topic.
“There’s Crowell. Crawling back out even after all that drama yesterday.”
“I heard she was finally going to withdraw from the subjugation.”
“I really hope she does~ I’m sick of all the noise because of her.”
When I glanced toward the voices, their smug chatter died down in an instant.
“……”
No matter how much they badmouth me, they’re just kids who get deflated from a single glare.
My nasty temper was probably infamous enough around the academy that they knew it wasn’t worth provoking me openly.
‘Still, I get why they talk like that.’
A commoner orphan adopted by the minor Baron Crowell family getting into an academy meant for nobles? That would naturally rub them the wrong way.
And to top it off, I was outperforming them.
‘Pathetic…’
Just because I understood didn’t mean they were right. The only thing they’d get from me was a beating.
In earlier regressions, I used to track them down and break them all apart, but even that felt like a waste of time now.
The moment I turned my gaze forward again, their whispering resumed like a candle’s flickering flame.
“Wow, did you see that glare? What if she pulls her sword on me? I’m so scared!”
‘Then die.’
Expressionless, I lowered my eyes and made my way to… the Dean’s office.
Knock knock.
“Come in,” came the soft voice of the Dean.
“Dean.”
I bowed slightly as I entered and then straightened.
A frail, young man with delicate features looked up at me from behind the desk. The Dean.
His sharp eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed again.
“Miss Crowell, isn’t it? Please, have a seat.”
“Thank you.”
As I sat in the offered chair, the Dean stood and adjusted his long robe before beginning to warm a pot of tea.
The once-silent office was quickly filled with a cozy warmth. My heart calmed as well.
‘This is why I liked you.’
For someone in charge of a hierarchical, status-obsessed academy, the Dean was surprisingly kind to me.
‘We didn’t meet often, though.’
After the subjugation disaster nearly destroyed the academy, he had been busy running around trying to rebuild it.
So soon, he’d be a very busy man again.
“I thought you’d be busy preparing for the subjugation training yourself, Miss Crowell.”
As if reading my mind, he pushed a cookie tin toward me and began pouring freshly warmed tea into a mug.
I smiled softly at him.
“I will be. Very soon, Dean.”
“Haha. I was worried you might be planning to drop out of the subjugation, as the rumors say.”
So those rumors had already reached the Dean’s ears. Just who was spreading them?
He sat down across from me and opened the cookie tin himself.
Any student meeting the Dean would know that refusing a cookie now would be rude.
Luckily, that’s exactly what I was hoping for.
I quickly reached out and picked up a butter cookie.
Or at least pretended to.
“What brings you here today, Miss Crowell?”
The Dean leaned on his chin with a smile. His gaze felt as though it pierced right through me.
And one thing worth mentioning: people I liked… were usually a little unhinged.
As I bit into the butter cookie under his watchful eyes, its dry crumble spread in my mouth.
‘Ugh.’
I couldn’t really taste it. I was too busy suppressing the magic swirling in my mouth to notice any flavor.
‘But the effect is… real enough.’
“Be honest with me. I trust you.”
The Dean gave me a soft, melting smile. I’m sure many students had fallen for it.
‘But it won’t work on me.’
The cookies the Dean served to students before counseling sessions were laced with mild suggestion magic.
The spell’s command: Tell the truth, whatever it is.
It usually wore off by the time students left the office, so most never noticed. And in the meantime, the Dean learned all their secrets.
If I hadn’t experienced it myself in a past life, I wouldn’t have known either.
Suppressing the magic once ingested required considerable skill.
But who was I?
‘This much is nothing.’
Smiling at him, I straightened my posture and got to the point.
“I have a favor to ask.”
“A favor? From Miss Crowell? How delightful. What is it?”
The Dean looked pleased. I smiled back and answered clearly:
“Please reassign me to a different subjugation team.”
I would never, ever be tied to Ethan Behemoth again.
