Yuri absentmindedly touched his head.
In front of him stood his father, long dead.
Just as he remembered from the past.
Only one possibility came to mind.
Could it be… I've died and come to heaven?
No, someone like me couldn't possibly end up in heaven—did Father fall to hell instead?
Well, for someone who always talked about honor, he did live rather indulgently...
"Ah…"
Hot tears rolled down Yuri's cheeks.
The king and prince falling into hell side by side—what a tragedy for the Briol royal family.
"Father…"
Just like the temple had said, death was not the end.
Could it be that one's sins in life followed them into the afterlife to judge their soul? A father and son reuniting in hell—what cruel punishment.
"So in the end, you really did fall into hell…"
"Huh?"
"You were always going on about honor… You should've lived it instead of just preaching it…"
His father, initially flustered, eventually did what he always used to do—smacked him on the head again.
"What nonsense are you spouting now?"
"You still haven't fixed that habit of hitting people, even in hell?!"
"What is wrong with you today?"
"Repent!"
Shouting, Yuri shot up to his feet—then suddenly noticed something strange.
The surroundings were far too ordinary.
There were no purgatorial flames, no moaning sinners impaled on spikes.
It was a place both unfamiliar and familiar—his old royal palace from the past.
And there were no demons mocking and tormenting them.
"Your Highness. Are you alright?"
Standing beside him was Ena, the maid who had always taken care of him.
"Your Majesty, striking people on the head is not a proper habit," sighed Bernard, his sword teacher.
"Yuri, are you okay?"
That came from Cedric, his oldest brother—saintly and noble, someone who couldn't possibly end up in hell.
The others were debatable, but Cedric at least was the purest soul Yuri had ever known.
Only then did Yuri realize—there might be another explanation.
"…No way…"
Yuri looked around at the four pairs of eyes watching him.
And promptly passed out.
***
At first, Yuri thought it might be a dream—or perhaps a long, drawn-out death vision.
But no matter how hard he tried, he didn't wake up, nor did the world come to an end.
Instead, moments long buried in the depths of his memory began to repeat themselves.
Yuri had no choice but to accept it.
He had returned to the past.
To the spring of the year he turned thirteen.
"Your Highness, Your Highness."
Ena shook Yuri's body as he squirmed under the blankets.
"What is it…"
"It's time for your sword training."
"I'm not doing that crap."
"You might get scolded by His Majesty."
"I'm strong even without training."
"Stop talking nonsense in your sleep."
Yuri tried to brush off Ena's hand but suddenly bolted upright.
"Ah…!"
"Your Highness?"
Did he really believe that going back in time would fix everything?
No. That wasn't it.
People didn't change so easily.
Almost like being pulled by the inertia of habit, he had reverted back into the same troublemaking prince he once was.
Where was the Yuri who once groaned under the weight of his sins and regretted the life he had led?
"Damn it…"
His heart pounded in his chest.
Had even his mind regressed with his return to a child's body?
Going back in time didn't erase his sins. If anything, a harsher punishment awaited him now.
A mistake once could be called a lapse. But if he failed in this life too—that would be a true and unforgivable sin.
A chill ran down his spine.
"How long was I unconscious after babbling nonsense?"
"Three days."
"Three days?!"
Yuri jumped to his feet and clutched his head.
Ena, used to his strange behavior, simply shrugged.
"Ena."
"Yes?"
He looked at her.
Her eyes were innocent and pure.
He remembered what kind of end this sweet, kind girl eventually met.
Yuri shut his eyes tightly and made a declaration.
"Slap me."
"...Excuse me?"
"Three times!"
Ena's eyes went round.
"Your Highness, are you ordering me to commit treason?"
"If I command it, it's not treason."
"Is this an excuse to have me fired?"
"Of course not."
"Then are you planning to turn around and slap me right back?"
"Absolutely not!"
She clearly didn't believe him.
And who could blame her?
He'd been a brat since he was a child, committing mischief that would make a mockery of any belief in mankind's inherent goodness.
Yet, despite his bad behavior, his natural talent and sharp mind meant he was rarely scolded for neglecting studies or training.
But he had been lazy.
He had wasted his life.
He would never do that again.
Whoever had given him this second chance—god or something else—Yuri swore he wouldn't repeat his failed life.
"Ena. Listen carefully."
"Yes?"
"I, Yuri, swear that no matter what, I will never retaliate for you slapping me."
"You mean it?"
"I, Yuri Briol! I always keep my word once it's spoken."
"So I can slap you?"
"Of course…"
Smack!
Yuri's face snapped to the side.
"...!"
There was no hesitation in her hand.
Even though he had asked for it, a wave of unfairness surged inside him for some reason.
"Two left."
In front of him, Ena was rolling her shoulders, a faint smile on her lips.
And then Yuri remembered something he'd forgotten.
Ena had once taken first place in the female sprint at the royal palace servants' athletic meet—and ranked in the top tier for arm wrestling.
A surprisingly athletic person, despite her slender figure.
Ena squinted one eye and measured the distance.
"Your Highness, grit your teeth."
"Wait, hold on…"
"If I hit you wrong, you might chip a tooth. You like meat, don't you?"
"Ena, listen—"
"Two slaps left. You made a vow, remember? I don't want to do this, but for your honor, I must slap you through tears."
"No, please don't…"
"Yes, I must."
Two crisp slaps rang out in quick succession.
"..."
And so, Yuri left the palace with his cheeks swollen.
Ena had offered to apply ointment, but he shook her off and stormed out.
The saddest part was that no one seemed the least bit concerned about his puffed-up face.
"Good morning, Your Highness. What kind of mischief are you planning today?"
"Hello, Your Highness! You look great as always. Who did you bully this time?"
"Your Highness, you're coming to the card game tonight, right? You need to get back at Lord Hernando!"
He had truly lived poorly.
Yuri ignored everyone and ran straight to the training grounds.
"You're here, Your Highness."
Bernard, who had been practicing alone, turned to face him.
His eyes briefly flicked to Yuri's swollen cheek and then looked away.
"Let's begin today's training."
Yuri caught the wooden sword Bernard tossed him.
"..."
He pointed at his swollen cheek in protest, but Bernard didn't even glance at it.
Yuri felt another wave of sadness.
So this was really my past…
What kind of life had I lived, that even at thirteen, everyone looked down on me like this?
"Come at me."
"Now?"
"Yes."
After Yuri turned thirteen, Bernard had stopped teaching form and stance and instead trained him through sparring matches.
Partly because Yuri was uncooperative in training—and partly because he learned too quickly.
"If only His Highness were a bit more diligent, he'd be the very blessing of Briol," Bernard had once said to the king.
Back then, instead of taking it to heart and trying harder, Yuri had only grown lazier.
He was ashamed of that past.
"Bernard."
Yuri lifted his chin.
"Yes?"
"Promise me one thing."
"What is it?"
"From today onward—"
Yuri raised his wooden sword.
"Teach me properly."
A flash of surprise passed through Bernard's eyes.
Yuri smiled and declared:
"I, Yuri Briol, am going to live seriously from now on."
"..."
"So, will you train me properly?"
Bernard tilted his head.
Yuri didn't mind.
If his previous life had taught him anything, it was the emptiness of words.
The human heart is fickle, and a tongue three inches long can twist the truth at will.
True resolve is proven through action.
"Your Highness… I don't know what's gotten into you, but…"
Bernard nodded.
"Very well."
His demeanor changed.
"..."
The true face of Bernard—the Sword Demon, who had once cut down countless foes before being defeated by the King of Briol—was now revealed.
Which meant… it was a bit much for a thirteen-year-old to handle.
Yuri opened his mouth before he could stop himself.
"Wait a second…"
But Bernard didn't stop.
The wooden sword rained down from all directions.
It was swordsmanship alive and breathing—like the flickering tongue of a snake.
For Yuri, who hadn't even learned a mana method yet, it was impossible to keep up.
So, he curled up.
Bernard raised one eyebrow.
"Oh…?"
In his previous life, Yuri had been a hardened mercenary.
He wandered battlefields, learning swordsmanship solely for the purpose of killing. He had long forgotten the flashy techniques used to mock and toy with opponents.
To face overwhelming opponents, he had stripped away everything unnecessary—focused only on minimizing damage.
If he couldn't block it, he ignored it. He only parried what he could handle.
"Bernard, is that all you've got? You sure you're a Sword Demon and not a Booze Demon?"
He even taunted him.
Agitation tactics were simple—and incredibly effective. Rattle someone's emotions, and a gap would always appear.
Yuri waited for the one opening Bernard would surely give him.
"Are you trying to provoke me, Your Highness?"
Just as planned.
Bernard nodded and increased the intensity of his strikes.
And then—
"W-Wait. Bernard."
In a child's body, Bernard was simply too much to handle.
There were openings, but Yuri didn't have the ability to capitalize on them. And when he tried to ignore what he couldn't block, he had to tank the hits with his tiny body.
"Wait!"
"Yes, Your Highness?"
"I… I may have gone too far with my words."
"You realize that now?"
"As a prince of Briol, I offer my sincere apologies. I take it back. I've long admired the reputation of the Sword Dem—"
"Can't hear you."
"Wait—just hold on!"
Bernard unleashed a terrifying technique that struck dozens of places in a single breath.
It was, quite literally, a beating.
Five minutes passed that felt like five years.
"Huff… huff…"
Yuri collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath.
It hurt.
But it felt good.
The pain in his body seemed to wash away the guilt of his previous life.
Just before falling unconscious, Yuri looked up at the sky.
A vast, open sky stretched above him.
After the fall of the royal family, he had spent his life staring at the ground as he walked.
A new life.
A chance to correct his mistakes.
Only now did the reality of having returned to the past truly hit him.
Yuri stretched a hand toward the sky.
"I'm alive."
He whispered those words—
And passed out.
"..."
Bernard looked down at the unconscious Yuri with an unreadable expression in his eyes.
***
A week had passed since Yuri returned to the past.
Rumors were beginning to spread throughout the royal palace that he had changed.
No one felt this shift more closely than Ena, the maid who always stayed by his side.
"Your Highness."
"What is it?"
"I'm proud of you."
Ena said this as she handed Yuri a towel after he returned from his early morning physical training.
"That's out of the blue. What are you talking about?"
"Out of the blue? This is literally the first time in my life I've ever said I was proud of you."
"Don't worry. You'll be saying it so often soon, you'll be sick of it."
"Doubt it."
"Well then, tell me in detail—what part of me are you proud of?"
"..."
Ena made an uneasy face, then smiled sweetly.
"I heard you cleaned up at the card table yesterday?"
"Ah, word travels fast."
Recently, Yuri had been dominating the palace gambling scene using the card skills he'd honed as a mercenary.
"Rumor has it Sir Hernando's face turned pale."
"I completely drained his secret stash. He won't be showing his face at the tables for a while."
"That's incredible."
"Fufufu…"
"So how about rewarding your loyal Ena with a little bonus?"
"Denied."
"Why not?"
"I have plans for that money."
"Suddenly, I'm not proud of you anymore."
"Liar."
Ena let out a long sigh and handed Yuri a fresh set of clothes.
"Also, His Majesty is calling for you."
"Why?"
Yuri flinched in alarm.
Had word reached his father about the prince frequenting gambling dens?
It would be unfair.
Wasn't the king himself known to sneak off incognito and visit casinos?
Yuri had even heard that when His Majesty lost a huge sum, he suddenly claimed to be conducting a "crackdown" and flipped his stance entirely.
"I—did I get caught?"
"No, no. Count Johannes brought his son to visit."
"Count Johannes?"
"Yes."
"You mean that white-clothes-obsessed peacock?"
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that."
"The one who laughs like a creep?"
"Still didn't hear it."
"And his son's just as—"
Yuri stopped mid-sentence.
Count Johannes—Twossen Bakbar—was a strange man, but a respectable knight nonetheless.
But when it came to raising his son, he had utterly failed.
"Where is that bastard?"
His firstborn, Gott Bakbar—
The traitor who, in Yuri's previous life, betrayed the kingdom and opened the gates to the empire.