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Chapter 60
Regression Novel
A dark night had fallen. She thought that perhaps a harsh night like this might come in the future. Unexpectedly, it was much closer than she ever imagined.
The night reached out to her defenseless body and threw her into the pit of malice.
“D-Don’t do this. Please…”
Her voice trembled as she spoke. Her whole body shook.
“Please…”
Why hadn’t she known? No, she did know, so why didn’t she notice? Her dignity as a human was seized, dragged through the mud, and shredded to pieces. Her body, covered in bruises from whips and kicks, hurt with every movement.
At first, she resisted. She even hurled insults at them. She spat out venom, telling them how filthy, cowardly, and petty they were, treating violence as amusement.
But the more she did, the harsher the torment became.
The second time, she begged them. To stop. In response, they only cackled and mocked her, and merciless violence returned. They slapped her, yanked her by the hair. They hit Diana for fun.
The third time… ah… what happened the third time again…?
Remain proud to the end? Hold on to her dignity?
Such things collapsed meaninglessly before violence. Pain destroyed everything too easily. They starved her, chained her, and told her how worthless she was as a human being.
Her pride as a noble, her self-esteem, even the very notion that she was ‘human’—all of it, she came to realize, had been an extravagant luxury.
“Kyaaaa! No, no!”
Today, her captor seemed to be in a particularly foul mood. Kicks rained down without pause, and Diana screamed as loud as she could. But it was nothing more than the howl of an animal. She reached out a hand, only for it to be stomped on with a sickening crack.
No matter how much she screamed, no one came to help. No one. Why hadn’t she realized this? Why had she thought such sins could be forgiven?
So miserable. So hopeless. So hateful!
“Help me.”
She begged again and again.
“Help me.”
She wept and begged.
“Save me… please, Guiscard.”
She kept thinking of the boy she had once sent away that day.
She even called out to the one she should never have, begging, begging again.
“Kyaaa!”
Her hair was grabbed. Her light blonde hair had long been matted with blood. She stared at her assailant’s face.
Why… why? Why was he smiling while beating her? Looking at that horrific face, Diana realized she was in an inescapable hell.
Hoping her tormentor’s mood would improve, she watched him, pleaded again, and again. Crying was useless. Her feelings had never mattered in the first place.
The woman slid the stacked books into the shelves. Many new books had arrived. The lower stacks gradually filled the upper shelves. She rose on her tiptoes to reach higher—but she couldn’t anymore.
“Here.”
A man’s voice came from behind. Dian turned her head. Gentle blue eyes were fixed on her. The young man with chestnut-brown hair was always lingering nearby.
“Dian, you said to call you if anything was hard, didn’t you?”
At his voice, Dian smiled softly.
“This is my job, after all.”
“Good grief.”
“Adele, you’re the one who should be attending properly to His Grace. What will you do if he suddenly calls for you?”
“His Grace plans to rest for a while.”
At his gentle assurance, Dian replied blandly, “I suppose so,” and nodded. Adele picked up one of the books in the stack.
“Oh, is this a regression novel?”
“Yes. I don’t know why these are suddenly so popular…”
Dian’s tone was disapproving. What he had picked up was the trend of the day—regression novels. The protagonist, through some incident, returns to the past. Knowing the future was a considerable advantage in life.
The ones who went back fulfilled unfinished love, exacted revenge, or repaid grudges.
“No one lives without regrets, after all.”
“…”
“If only I had known then… If only I hadn’t said those words… If only I hadn’t chosen that person… Doesn’t everyone think like that? You do too, Dian.”
Dian gave a faint laugh and murmured:
“But even if you went back, would the future really change?”
“Huh?”
Adele’s eyes widened. His gaze met her face—so uncharacteristically cold. Her lips curved with bitter scorn, her emotions spilling over.
“Would the future really change so easily?”
“Wouldn’t it? In the stories I read, just one change made life fall into place, and it was fun.”
“But wouldn’t there be people who only became unhappier by going back?”
“What do you mean…?”
Dian spoke, still holding the book.
“What could a protagonist really do, going back with an adult’s mind but trapped in a child’s body? A child’s actions are so limited.”
“…”
“And how would it be to live as an adult in a child’s world?”
“…”
“And what if you discovered that those beautiful childhood memories were, in truth, utterly horrifying?”
“Dian.”
“Why not? Isn’t it possible? When you look back at childhood through adult eyes, you might realize it wasn’t so beautiful after all.”
She shook her head slowly.
“It’s strange. Why do people think going back would give them a better life? The world around them wouldn’t change. The only thing different is one powerless individual.”
Having poured her emotions into tearing the book apart with scorn, Dian suddenly caught herself. She bit her lip, glancing at Adele’s serious expression. She spoke softly.
“…Ah, sorry. I lost my temper.”
“Are you okay? You seem tired.”
Adele reached out to touch her forehead. She flinched and stepped back. Because of that, the stacked books came crashing down.
“Ah.”
“Ah.”
Both Adele, who had reached out, and Dian, who had pulled away, looked startled as they stared at each other.
“Sorry.”
“No, it’s my fault for reaching out suddenly.”
Adele gave an awkward laugh. Dian shut her eyes tight. No matter how much time passed, she could not get used to the sight of a man’s hand reaching toward her. Not even after time, and more time…
“Dian. Be honest.”
“Yes?”
“You criticized regression novels so vividly… you sound like someone who’s experienced it.”
“What nonsense…”
Seeing her stiff face, Adele burst into hearty laughter.
“No, really—you sound like you actually went back in time, you’re so serious!”
“…”
Looking at her unyielding expression, Adele spoke again.
“Ah, so dull. Am I boring you today too?”
“Yes, very boring.”
Her cold reply made his face droop.
“You’re so cold, Dian…”
Still, he finished shelving the books for her.
“So that means you won’t date me today either…”
“I said no! Really! If you’re going to say things like that, then get out already!”
When Dian shouted, Adele looked dejected. In the end, he was kicked out. Standing outside, he pouted at the library wistfully, until he noticed people approaching. His expression hardened.
“Your Grace! A letter has arrived from the royal palace.”
Seeing the knights behind, Adele—Adeleheitz—hardened his face coldly. He glanced around, then quietly opened the letter. The contents were predictable.
“His Majesty is persistent indeed.”
His gentle voice vanished. The brown hair shifted, turning into silver. He held up the paper.
It bore the portrait of a girl with light blonde hair and silver-gray eyes. The king had ordered portraits drawn and distributed to all lands. Such portraits were only ever used for one purpose—to find and capture a wanted criminal.
Once a year, the portrait of the light-haired woman arrived. Every year, the royal order was the same: capture and deliver her. Duke Blake smirked.
“At this point, shouldn’t we report this to the royal family? If they learn we’ve sheltered a criminal in the Academy, they won’t sit idly by. Miss Dian—”
The duke cut him off.
“So you want us to hand over someone who came into our care? Knowing full well what would happen to her?”
“Your Grace.”
“Anyone who comes under our protection, we don’t give up.”
It had already been two years since Dian—Diana Brien—arrived at Neust Academy.
He still remembered the first time. She was covered in wounds, a woman who knew nothing but despair. Her steps were so fragile she looked like she would shatter at a touch.
A thin body, a powerless face. A walking ghost. Yet even in that wretched state, she held a letter of recommendation from the Farnborough royal family.
And so, she became a staff member of Neust Academy—a librarian.
At first, he had watched, fearing she might collapse like a corpse. Then, he watched as vitality slowly returned to her. At some point, he saw her smile brightly. He became addicted, unable to leave her side.
The one who had been cold as ice and sharp as frost had become someone capable of warm laughter.
Diana Brien. Dian.
“Ah, but this year’s portrait of Dian is truly lovely.”
He hugged the paper and grinned foolishly. His hair was brown for now, but Diana Brien, with her light blonde hair, was just too cute and beautiful. His collection had grown by one. Adeleheitz held the paper with a blissful expression.
