Toyota's form, now slumped on the bench, was gingerly picked up and hoisted onto Reinhard's shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Despite being a woman, she stood at six feet tall, which made the sight look like she was carrying a child compared to Toyota's five feet seven inches. To be fair, at his age, he still could be growing—but to her, all that mattered was securing the new candidate's safety and preparing him in time for the Royal Selection. She had no time to worry about appearances.
Entering her mansion, the guards gave her bewildered looks as she passed. She dropped Toyota off and handed him to the maids, instructing them to wash his clothes and give him the newly vacant bedroom. The maids gave her a tired look, as if they weren't surprised she had brought home another guest by force. Internally, she felt wronged.
I can't be blamed for this. It's all because of the Royal Selection. Although… I suppose I could have convinced him to enter the mansion instead of knocking him out.
But in her defense, her experience with Felt had taught her that escape attempts were inevitable. Felt had even waited until night before using the chandelier like monkey bars, trying to parkour out the window. Because of that, all downstairs windows were now boarded up.
Reinhard decided to give Toyota the main bedroom. After Felt's death, all of her room's personal touches had been quickly removed by the mansion's staff, as if they were afraid to remind her of the loss. The now-barren room held a large bed, a bedside table, and some old storybooks—the ones she used to read to Felt, and the wild little girl had genuinely enjoyed them.
She paused, wondering if what she was doing was dishonoring her now-deceased friend by replacing her so quickly after her death. Was she a bad person—someone willing to forget those she failed so easily, swapping them out the moment they had no purpose in the judging silence?
She harshly shook her head and looked up. She would never forget Felt. She would honor her by never failing in her knightly duty again.
Felt had a relative she'd wanted to visit—how was Reinhard supposed to break the news to him? That under her protection, an assassin had taken Felt's life… right after she was kidnapped… and after Reinhard had promised to keep her safe.
She slapped her cheeks to calm herself—so hard that the shockwave knocked several books off the nearby bedside table and echoed throughout the mansion.
After a quick apology to the mansion staff for the noise, she sent a messenger to contact her superiors about finding a new candidate. Mapping out a personalized training and education schedule for the limited time she had left, she steeled herself.
She had twenty days—time to create an image for Toyota that could stand on par with the other women vying to be the future monarch of Lugunica.
The mansion staff, seeing the renewed energy and spirit in their master, worked with fresh determination. They all deeply cared for Reinhard. When the little, dirty-mouthed girl was killed, she had changed—becoming something more robotic, unable to express her feelings. They wished for their master's happiness and quietly wondered if this unconscious boy had something to do with her sudden revival.
***
He was getting beaten, his pride in himself destroyed as every wooden sword strike landed. He had taken expensive kendo classes in his old world and still was getting pummeled as if he were an infant. Looking up hatefully at the purple-haired knight—the one who was embarrassing him in front of this large crowd—he resolved himself to use everything at his disposal to beat him.
"Shamak."
The arena filled with a dark ink. He could feel a strain in his abdomen, but he didn't care as long as he could beat this man. But it was useless. He was hit again under the chin and lost consciousness.
Waking up in a new room, he briefly wondered if he had died—until Emilia walked in. Her face viewed him full of disappointment as she asked him why he had disobeyed her orders to stay and challenged the purple-haired knight.
He couldn't answer. His feelings of dependence towards her had only increased—she was the only one who had never harmed him, who had even saved him. He felt the need to prove his loyalty and defend her from the one who had insulted her, which led to him proclaiming himself as her knight. Why couldn't she see that everything he did was for her?
That's when she asked him why he did these things. Why did he care so much about her when they had only met recently?
He tried to explain, but the cruel hand that refused to let him speak squeezed his heart. Feeling a burst of panic, he let out his restrained feelings. Everything he had done was for her, and it turned out fine—so just let him continue to help. She owed him a debt she could never repay.
Hearing his words, her disappointment changed into a sad resolution. She stopped for a moment.
"You are right. I can never repay you… so we should part ways."
What? That wasn't what he wanted. But he couldn't stop her from leaving.
After receiving medical treatment from the cat-boy, he forced his body through a strict training exercise with swords. Trying to forget his embarrassment, Internally he felt empty. Everyone thought he was too weak. He decided to return with Rem. His mind was bitter. Falling asleep, only to find that Rem had gone ahead of him—it was because she thought he was too weak.
He hired a merchant to take him to the mansion, but couldn't make it the whole way because of the merchant's ground dragon sensing danger. Walking the rest of the way, his insides full of bile, he muttered hatefully to himself as his mind filled with curses. Everyone hated him, thought he was too weak. He would prove them wrong.
He mindlessly walked, encountering people in hoods, but they disappeared as soon as they appeared. Dismissing it as his imagination, he entered the village, seeing a sight that seemed like a dream—bodies strewn around in piles, people burned, impaled, decapitated.
After tripping over a head, his hand smearing in the blood, he finally registered that it wasn't a nightmare. He vomited. Walking forward, hoping not to see anyone he recognized, one face came to his mind—the one who took his side even when he didn't deserve it. Rem.
As he muttered her name, walking forward, entering the mansion's garden, he saw Rem's body. Blood everywhere. She was stabbed through the head.
He continued to walk forward, watching the nightmare unfold. Opening a shed that was partially cracked, he found the bodies of the village's children piled on top of each other in a grotesque artwork.
Walking into the mansion, he found Ram holding Petra in an embrace, even in death. His mind already corroded, he turned over Petra, wanting to see her expression—but to his horror, her eyes were ripped out. Flinching back, his throat dry, he found Emilia's hair clip with blood on the floor. He couldn't even say her name. His mouth felt empty.
Sensing a chill from a room he hadn't entered, he walked forward out of hopelessness. Grabbing the doorknob, he felt a sharp chill in his fingers. Looking down—they were snapped off, stuck to the door. Falling to the ground, his mind hazy, he saw people in hoods around him. Frozen, his body stiffened, ready to follow their fate.
That's when he reset. At the appa stand.
His mind froze. He had to restart from the very beginning? After what he had just seen. But Rem's voice—still alive—forced him to realize: everything he had witnessed, lost, was real.
And his mind snapped.
Everything after that was hazy, like he was forced into a smog, his body just following the motions. Suddenly, he was in a cave with a madman telling him he was a fake, hoping for sympathy.
What sympathy?
Everyone dies. Everyone calls him weak.
He vaguely noticed the presence fighting next to him, drawing closer. That's when, in shocking clarity, everything was seen. Rem's body, in front of him—disfigured, twisted, ripped by the madman's power—because he didn't do anything. It was his fault.
This man—Petelgeuse—has to pay. He will kill him for his sins. He is the reason for his pain. For everyone's death.
Screaming his name until his voice broke, he was left chained to a wall. But Rem was alive. She was crawling toward him. It was a miracle. Pulling her toward him with his teeth, she gave him a confession of love. Using the last of her strength to free him, she used magic on his chains, freeing him and telling him to live.
How can he, after what had happened?
Carrying her body out of the cave, walking toward the mansion, which was strewn with the lifeless innocent, he dropped to his knees. The one who loved and sacrificed for him, still in his arms, as he howled the name of the one he hated more than anything.
Snow fell around him and chilled his very bones.
Turning his head toward a sound, he saw a massive pair of eyes and a silhouette that looked at him with rage and disdain.
"Sleep, along with my daughter."
As the voice echoed, his vision spun. Everything he cared about had been destroyed, and his slothfulness was to blame.
He reset again. The same checkpoint. The same unbearable weight.
How could he possibly save everyone?
Maybe if he explained the Witch Cult's plans to the other candidates, he could garner temporary support—just enough to save the villagers. With Rem at his side, he tried to plead to their sense of justice, of humanity.
But they just looked at him like he was pathetic. Like a broken, disgusting man.
In Priscilla's camp, he was humiliated—beaten just for following an order.
In Crusch's camp, she coldly stated that the villagers were Emilia's responsibility.
"If they die, it's her fault," she had said without a hint of sympathy.
How could everyone be so heartless? All they needed to do was kill the Cult. Every last one of them.
In Anastasia's camp, she only saw profit—the opportunity in his desperation. She didn't care who lived or died.
He turned to Reinhard, hoping for help. But at the moment he needed him most… Reinhard was gone.
Why is everyone so useless?
With what little money he had left, he hired mercenaries. That was all he could do. With Rem at his side, he made his way back toward the village.
That's when it attacked.
A monster of titanic proportions.
Rem knocked him out and faced it alone. She sacrificed herself to protect him.
When he woke up, he screamed at the driver to turn back—to save her. But the merchant, the same man from the first loop, didn't even remember her.
The one who risked her life to save them… didn't even exist in his memory.
The rage he felt was incomprehensible.
Then the White Whale caught up to them.
She had died in vain. It was his witch's scent that drew it here.
The merchant, realizing the truth, shoved him out of the moving cart. Bones snapped. Pain screamed through his body.
And then the whale loomed over him.
He didn't want to die.
Why did it hurt so much?
He wanted to live.
He blacked out in the grass.
When he came to, he was walking—somehow—down a long road. A memoryless trance. He found the same merchant's cart, stained with blood. He didn't think. He just took the ground dragon and rode to the village.
The children were still alive.
Then darkness again.
When he awoke, he was in the mansion. He apologized to Ram for her sister.
But she didn't remember her.
What was wrong with everyone?!
He found Emilia. He had to secure her safety. Even if it was by force.
She wouldn't listen.
Tears streamed down his face. He told her about Rem—about everything.
But once again… she didn't even know who that was.
Life felt pointless.
He had nothing to lose.
So he told her the truth—even if it crushed his heart.
But the moment the words left his mouth—
Emilia collapsed. Blood poured from her lips.
"Why…?"
Why couldn't he tell anyone?
Why did he have to suffer like this?
The next moments were a blur. He was teleported out of the mansion—Emilia's corpse still in his arms.
The madman was there. Laughing. Praising him for killing her. Reaching for her body.
But this time…
He saw the hands. The once-invisible force.
He saw them. But he couldn't dodge.
The hands wrapped around him.
And then—Puck appeared.
He tore the madman apart like it was nothing.
Then turned to Him… with fury.
He accused him of sin. Of betrayal. Of ruining everything.
And then he froze him. Slowly. Deliberately.
Toyota watched his limbs crack and fall off. He couldn't scream anymore.
He was useless.
Nothing he did ever changed anything.
He hated himself.
Even more than he hated the madman.
He deserved to die.
He laughed to himself, mocking his own futile efforts, until his jaw cracked off.
(AN: This is part 1 of the chapter that went on too long.
I've set an official release schedule: Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, Although when I get bored, I add extra.
Bonus chapters will drop on Saturdays if my demands are met. 🔫
Trade deal:
You give me 70 power stones, and I give you a bonus chapter.
Sounds fair, right?)