Chapter 12
“I really must be a genius. My creativity transcends genre—look at this! The solution was this simple, and yet it took me ten regressions to think of it? If I’d figured it out sooner, I wouldn’t have gone through all that crap. No battles, no getting stabbed in the back, no dying a shrieking death at the hands of Helliot, no wasting decades on a teleportation spell only to die from overwork, and definitely no getting bossed around by that bastard Tessarion!”
My main objective and subplans for this tenth regression clicked perfectly into place.
“Roy, water.”
Tessarion, having paused his sparring session, wiped the sweat from his face and called out to me. I grabbed two bundles of bandages, picked up the water cup, and hurried over to him.
“Here you go!”
I handed it over with a bright smile.
“……”
Tessarion studied me with a curious expression before accepting the cup. He stared at the water for a moment. I offered him a towel. He wiped his forehead and neck, then clicked his tongue, clearly still uncomfortable even after toweling off.
I kept smiling sweetly and asked cheerfully,
“Shall I prepare a bath for you?”
“…?”
“Are you feeling any discomfort? Should I summon a healer to loosen your muscles?”
“…?”
Tessarion blinked at me, furrowing his brow. I inched closer into his field of vision, rubbing my bandaged hands together obsequiously. Sir Winston had to take a step back.
“Ahem, uh… Your Grace?”
“What.”
“I have a request.”
He scoffed, placing one hand on his hip and resting his elbow on the pommel of his greatsword.
“What is it?”
His ears, eyes—his whole attention—focused on me. He was clearly waiting to be amused by whatever nonsense I’d spew this time. I licked my dry lips nervously.
“Well…”
I broke into a cold sweat, carefully crafting my words to avoid offending him.
He added coolly,
“Nothing dangerous or reckless.”
“I-I’d like to send a letter!”
“To whom?”
I pursed my lips and rolled my eyes.
“T-To an older acquaintance…”
“Older acquaintance?”
“I wanted to ask him about a business idea.”
“What kind of idea?”
Tessarion folded his arms and stepped closer. There was no way I could say I wanted to ask about a ‘love potion’ or ‘charm spell’ right to the face of the man who despised the female lead. So I vaguely described the ultimate goal of every romance fantasy.
“A spell that helps people live happily ever after.”
“…What?”
“If people were filled with trust, hope, and love through magic, there wouldn’t be any need for war, right?”
Tessarion pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply.
“Roy.”
“Yes?”
“I think you should be asking a goddess, not an old friend.”
“….”
“Just pray hard.”
He shook his head and left the training ground. I sulked and trudged after him.
What a poor soul. He knows nothing of love’s beauty.
Just you wait. When I decide to do something, I go all in.
“Your Grace, so I can pray hard and write a letter too, right?”
Tessarion, walking briskly ahead, clicked his tongue and waved his hand vaguely. A gesture that could mean anything—approval, denial, or just dismissal.
Grinning, I jogged after him.
“Then may I stop by the library on the way?”
“I’m tired. Ask the librarian.”
“Please, just rest for a moment. I’ll be quick. I’ll only check the east wing of the library—really! Just ten minutes and I’ll pick ten books and leave.”
“Sigh. Five books…”
“Seven?”
“Five. Just five!”
Claremont Castle was enormous.
I made it sound like a quick detour, but it was no wonder Tessarion found the idea annoying. The training ground in the annex and the lord’s bedroom in the main keep were separated by a complex tangle of buildings and rooms.
Tessarion leaned on a second-floor balcony overlooking the library entrance. Brushing back his sweat-drenched hair, he nodded for me to go ahead.
I bowed slightly and stepped back, then darted toward the library. My pace quickened, and within ten steps, I was skipping two stairs at a time.
I had to hurry. With Tessarion’s non-existent patience, he could call me back at any moment.
“Roy, don’t run. You’ll fall.”
“Yes!”
I shouted back cheerfully, heading straight to the east wing.
“You’re fast, Roy.”
Sir Winston’s voice called out.
“Well, sort of.”
“I heard from Sir Murray that you’re being trained as a knight… May I ask how His Grace came to know you?”
Yes! Keep chatting about me behind my back, Sir Winston. Stall for time!
“Materials, mana-reactive ingredient composition and application, this one… and where’s herbalism? Under the Dekalis School section? Then…”
There was only one way to charm Altair Oswally—the 10-circle archmage, a literal cheat-code genius AI of this world.
Study like a man possessed.
Skimming the surface wouldn’t cut it. I needed borderline manic knowledge, slick speech, persistent persuasion, and eye contact. If I could keep his interest for thirty minutes, I’d win.
That was how I had successfully roped him in during my 2nd, 5th, 6th, and 7th lives.
“Ugh, just thinking about those times…”
I shuddered and clutched my queasy stomach.
I was so sick of studying. But even so, I’d enrolled in the academy three separate times. Because even in this world, studying was still the easiest path.
If I had studied like that in my original world, I would’ve conquered Seoul National University—and the Ivy League.
I stretched on my tiptoes. Of course the thickest book, “Comprehensive Guide to East Continent Herbology”, was on the highest shelf.
So close, yet so far. I jumped a few times, trying to knock it loose—but it didn’t budge.
“Damn these bandages! Fine, whatever.”
I gritted my teeth and unwrapped my bandaged hands. The sword wound wasn’t fully healed, but it had scabbed over enough to function.
Rolling up my sleeves, I placed one foot on the first shelf and reached out.
“Roy! Don’t climb the shelves! Librarians, help him!”
Tessarion shouted from the second-floor railing.
The usually sloth-like librarians sprang into action.
“Y-Yes, Your Grace!”
“Not me—him!”
Tessarion pointed furiously in my direction, then actually leapt down from the second floor.
Thud! The floor trembled slightly, and the book jutted halfway out. I gripped it and pulled.
Only then did I realize—it was more weapon than book.
The stone-like tome slipped, casting a dark shadow over me.
“Roy!”
A deafening shout rang out as my body was suddenly swept off the floor. My forehead slammed into a solid chest and my nose got squashed.
Dazed, I blinked. Heat radiated from him, brushing against my cheeks. Tessarion clutched my head against his chest, panting heavily.
“Haah, haah… That was dangerous!”
He pulled me away and kicked the fallen Comprehensive Herbology tome.
“Were you seriously trying to pull that down with injured hands? You trying to split your skull open and die? I told you to get someone!”
