Chapter 57

I felt a tingling shiver as I began to recite the vow.

“I swear on my life… that Tessarion Arker Claremont, the most precious son of Veletinaum, will realize true love and live happily ever after.”

“Stop it, Roy.”

Tessarion stepped back abruptly. I grabbed his ankle.

“I vow to devote myself completely to make that happen.”

As soon as I said the words, my heart beat hard and I felt light and clear inside. I smiled up at him.

“I didn’t mention the princess or any noble lady—so you wouldn’t get upset. No matter who you choose, if you love them sincerely and work hard, won’t happiness come eventually? Though I still believe Princess Verieta is the best choice.”

“…”

“Don’t worry. Whether it’s the Emperor or the Council of Elders, I’ll make sure no one can lay a finger on you or your heir.”

“…”

Tessarion just stood there, staring blankly at me. The cigarette between his fingers had burned down dangerously low.

I grabbed my aching legs and pushed myself up, brushing dust off my clothes.

“Whew… what a long day. Joint training, paperwork, and now dealing with the elders’ endless nagging. You must be exhausted. Let’s stop worrying and get some sleep.”

I gently removed the burned-out cigarette from his fingers, tossed it into the ashtray, and reattached just the pipe to his hand.

I had really done my best to calm down Tessarion’s tense mood. Now all that was left was to end the day and sleep.

“Wings…”

He frowned and murmured softly, staring at me as if he’d seen something strange.

“Wings?”

I looked over my shoulders, puzzled. The holy sword’s mark had reacted earlier, but I hadn’t drawn it, so I didn’t know if wings had sprouted or not. There were no feathers on the ground. And even if they did appear, they’d probably be small and silly—like angel wings in a kids’ Christmas play.

Suddenly, Tessarion grabbed my waist and pulled me close, then lowered his head and rested his forehead against my shoulder.

His hot breath tickled my neck.

“You’re unbelievable. Who do you think you are, swearing to protect someone else in the name of the goddess?”

“At first, I thought it was just flashy talk to avoid responsibility. But this?”

He hugged me tight. His fingers dug into my back like hooks, and with his other hand, he grabbed my newly sprouted wing.

“Roy. Why did this appear?”

“Ahh!”

“Are you serious?”

I gasped. My whole body trembled. It really felt like he might rip out the wing or crush my spine.

“You seriously want me to live a happy life?”
“You’ll defy the Emperor and the elders—risk your life for that? You? With no magic and barely any holy power?”

“I told you not to try so hard. To stop playing hero. So why do you keep pushing? Why?!”

I flailed, trying to stop him.

“D-Duke…! That hurts! It hurts!”

My vision swirled. I rose up on my toes, fighting to stay upright. Then Tessarion, in full rage, bit into the back of my neck.

❖ ❖ ❖

Tessarion wished all of this—this cruel cycle—was just a dream.

Every time the overwhelming power yanked him back, he’d awaken inside Claremont Castle.

Snow and sleet blew outside on a freezing winter night. His breath fogged the air in the cold office. Piles of documents and petitions were stacked high. Letters from the Imperial Palace covered the wide desk.

“Roy Dover is dead… again.”

He groaned and grabbed his aching head.

He wished—just once—that he could go back to before his parents died.

If he had cried and begged them not to send him to the palace or to obey the Emperor, they might have listened. They had loved him deeply. Maybe they would have protected him.

Then maybe, he wouldn’t have lost everything—his mentor, his friends, and his parents.

Even falling into a battlefield would’ve been better. At least then he could’ve taken out his rage, saved some lives, and made his death meaningful.

But no—he kept returning to this exact point in time. When the wars were calming down, and everyone—relatives, elders, even the Emperor—pestered him about marriage and heirs.

He was forced to marry Verieta, who was hiding her gender. The Emperor’s people insisted she couldn’t bear children, so he had to take a second wife. Eventually, he gave in.

But the Crown Prince—who cared for Verieta—didn’t stay quiet. Instead of peace, civil war broke out.

It didn’t matter whether he married Verieta or not. No matter what he did, the civil war happened—nine times.

If only time had kept flowing forward…

But no, every time, it dragged him back—to just before the nightmare began.

And it was always because of Roy Dover.

That fraud’s son, who once vanished with 50 million gold from the duchy, had somehow found the goddess’s sealed holy sword, engraved his name on it—and died in vain over and over again.

To stop this time loop, the bond between the soul and the holy sword had to be broken.

And the only way to break that bond… was through true love.

The goddess’s sword had been granted with one purpose: to protect someone you’d give your life for. Only then would it unleash its true power.

A certain noble, realizing this, came up with a strategy:

“Send newlywed knights, bonded to the sword, into war. One sacrifice could win an entire battle.”

The Marquis of the East tried it—sending 14 knights to their deaths. He nearly reached the throne… until a grieving widow killed him.

After that, the holy sword was sealed again. Everyone knew the story.

But this time, someone without a person they loved was bound to the sword.

To stop the time loop, Roy Dover must find and truly love someone…

“Love, huh… can I really do that…?”

The servant knight returned to Claremont Castle again, sighing endlessly.

Even Roy seemed to grasp the situation. Since he kept coming back here, it was clear the person he cared about was nearby.

But Roy used to run away to Malleta as soon as he returned. Tessarion should’ve caught him early on. Finding Roy’s true love should’ve come afterward.

From the start, it was a struggle.

And as the cycles continued, Roy started acting even more reckless—maybe he was losing his mind. At one point, he just wanted to die.

Even when told to do nothing and go live his life peacefully, Roy kept looking over his shoulder at Tessarion with forced smiles.

“Surely… you’re not saying you’ve never been in love before, are you?”
“I wanted to ask about the magic that brings happiness.”
“I’ll definitely make the Duke and the Princess happy.”

Roy kept trying to set up Verieta and Tessarion.

Even when given the chance to relax, to fall in love freely, he just sulked and sniffled in bed.

Was it because of Verieta? Or Altair?

If Roy truly loved them, he should’ve returned to their side after the reset. But he didn’t. He always came back to Tessarion’s castle—after the war.