§ Chapter 4 §
“Eek!”
Crawling all the way to the Withered Rose Garden in search of Dietrich, I spotted a figure in the distance that looked just like him and hurriedly picked up speed.
The Withered Rose Garden was a hidden place belonging to Camille, attached to Dahlia Palace, where Dietrich and I lived.
“Withered Rose, huh. Who thought of that gloomy name?”
Maybe because it was the villain’s favorite spot. The name alone was depressing.
Dietrich, being the psychopathic villain that he was, hated being around people.
That was why, ever since childhood, he spent most of his time alone in this garden.
Now that I saw it with my own eyes, it wasn’t just the name—the place was literally filled with dead plants. The atmosphere was anything but cheerful.
If someone told me ghosts appeared here at night, I’d believe them.
“Creepy… but it really suits the villain.”
“Bpit!” (Dietrich!)
That pitch-black head that seemed to swallow all light—it could only be his. Like a little puppy, I scurried forward on my stubby legs.
“Oppa!”
But when I got closer, I realized Dietrich wasn’t alone.
“Get me out of here!”
What the—?
At his feet was… a human head.
No—wait. Maybe ‘buried’ is the better word.
Human heads don’t just sprout from the ground like seeds, so he must have been forcefully shoved in.
“Damn it! I said let me out, you bastard!”
“The one who broke the rules of the game first… was you, Yurik.”
Yurik?
I pressed up against Dietrich’s back.
“Bpit!” (Dietrich!)
Holding a shovel, he slowly turned his back at the sound of me calling him. Tilting my head, I tapped his shin with my tiny fists.
“What.”
“Ue?” (Whatcha doing?)
“Speak like a person.”
I can’t even talk yet, you jerk.
I wanted to at least protest with my expression, but his face was so chilling that I quickly shut my mouth. He was burying a person alive, yet his face remained emotionless, as if it meant nothing.
Did I… choose the wrong side?
Maybe I should’ve clung to Derrick instead.
Would someone like him ever soften just because his little sister smiled at him? I doubted it.
No, wait. Derrick always lost to Dietrich anyway. So even if I did win him over, it wouldn’t matter.
This damned family.
Crawling all the way here from my room, I was starting to regret it.
“…What are you?”
Dietrich suddenly grabbed me by the side and lifted me up, right near the place he had planted the boy.
His grip was rough—clearly he’d never held a baby before—but what unnerved me more was how effortlessly he carried me.
How strong could a six-year-old be, carrying a baby like this?
And yet, Dietrich didn’t even flinch.
“Why do you roll around everywhere?”
“Bban!!!” (Nooo!)
Though his words offended me—treating me like some ball rolling around—I didn’t show it. Instead, I gave him the brightest smile I could muster.
See? I’m cute! Won’t you treat me nicely?
I sparkled my eyes with all the desperate hope in the world.
“Bba-bba!” (Hello!)
“Haa.”
Dietrich frowned as if I were the most bothersome thing in existence. And yet, he still held me in his arms as he turned back toward the castle.
That’s when I got a clear look at the face half-buried in the ground.
Despite being smeared with dirt, the boy’s dazzling golden hair gleamed as it stuck out of the earth like a head of cabbage.
“What are you looking at?!”
Even though it was Dietrich who buried him, he took out his anger on me instead. His icy blue eyes glared as if he wanted to devour me. I pouted back.
Golden hair and blue eyes…
Yurik Lagrange.
I remembered him. A supporting character in the novel.
The Lagrange family usually inherited reddish-black eyes, but Yurik was the only direct descendant to have blue eyes.
But in the novel, Yurik was supposed to be Dietrich’s right-hand man.
It was Yurik who, on Dietrich’s orders, personally cut down Derrick Lagrange, their father.
And even after Dietrich was sealed away by the protagonist, Yurik never abandoned him. He set out to rescue him—he was that loyal.
So why is this “loyal subordinate” buried alive?
Maybe they didn’t get along at first? The novel never mentioned this.
“Bba?” (Why’s he buried?)
I tilted my head, asking with all the nuance I could, but Dietrich didn’t answer.
“Sounds like a chick.”
He only mocked the noises I made.
Still, I was pleased. I had accomplished my goal: finding Dietrich.
I snuggled my head against him, but just as I did, he froze in place.
“Now crawl.”
“Bba…”
Did I overdo it?
I guess I was too touchy-feely when we weren’t even close yet.
Dietrich didn’t hesitate to put me back on the ground. He practically tossed me, and I landed on my butt with a thump, lips jutting out in defeat.
Am I… really not cute at all?
The novel described Annette as a great beauty, so I assumed I must be at least a cute baby. But maybe Lancel was right—maybe I really was ugly.
But even ugly babies usually got doted on.
Now that I think about it… I’ve never even seen my face, have I?
I’d never left my room, so of course I’d never seen a mirror. Suddenly, I was curious.
I remembered the descriptions from the novel, but that was different from seeing it myself.
For example, I never imagined Dietrich’s beauty could be this striking.
In the novel, all it said was: “Even the women of the enemy Euclid family admired him for his looks.” That was it.
“I’m leaving.”
While I was lost in thought, Dietrich began striding away from me.
“Bba!” (Wait!)
I hurried after him.
Seriously, why is he so fast for a kid?!
It was like he folded the ground beneath his steps.
Sure, his legs were unusually long for his age, but still—he was just a child. Yet he was impossibly fast.
No matter how hard I crawled, the distance kept widening.
No, no! I finally got this chance!
“Bba-bba!”
I couldn’t just let him slip away.
Relying on my footed pajamas for protection, I sped up as much as I could.
Splat—
And that’s when it happened. Moving too fast, I didn’t see the shard of glass right under my hand.
Ahhh!
It was small—barely the size of an adult’s thumb—but to me, it was nearly as big as my palm.
The pain was so unbearable that I couldn’t even scream. I froze on the spot.
“Hhh…”
Even though he hadn’t been looking back, somehow Dietrich knew. He turned to me.
“Hhhwaaaah!”
The cold-blooded villain didn’t even move when his baby sister—so he thought—got hurt.
You jerk!
He just stared at me blankly.
“Hhwaaaah!”
Don’t think I was crying just because of a little cut on my palm.
Babies’ cries aren’t something they can control—they’re almost physiological.
It’s like a siren: I’m in danger! I’m hurt!
Even with my past-life memories, I was still trapped in a baby’s body. The blood dripping from my palm, the searing pain—it all overwhelmed me. Tears poured down.
And then…
Dietrich’s gray aura began to shift.
It wasn’t the thick, heavy red glow of Derrick Lagrange’s aura, but it was slowly turning crimson nonetheless.
Oh no. He’s angry!
If my memory was right, a red aura never signaled good emotions.
That was the aura of wrath.
“Snff.”
Summoning every ounce of willpower in my tiny body, I performed a miracle.
Even adults couldn’t stop crying in this much pain.
But I did.
Because if I didn’t, Dietrich might bury me right next to Yurik.
Yurik could at least use some shadow powers. I had nothing.
If you’re weak—yield.
That was the one lesson I had learned in my past life.
The powerless only get beaten harder when they resist.
“…Why aren’t you crying?”
Even Dietrich found it strange.
A baby, bleeding, tears streaming down its face—but not making a single sound. He just stood there, staring at me as if nailed to the spot.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry!
Crying meant death.
I bit down hard on my lips, staring right back at him.
Those abyssal eyes that could devour even the sun pierced through me.
What if he realized there was an adult soul inside me?
It felt like an eternity.
At the end of that long, long silence, he finally walked back.
“If you’re going to die anyway…”
“…Snff.”
“Isn’t it better to die quickly?”
It sounded like he was talking to me, yet there was a strange self-mockery in his voice.
Oddly enough, even though he told me to hurry up and die, I didn’t feel offended.
He gently opened my bloodied hand and carefully removed the shard of glass.
I had expected him to just rip it out, uncaring if it hurt. I shut my eyes tight, bracing for it.
But his touch was meticulous. After removing the shard, he even used his other hand to wipe the tears still clinging to my cheeks.
It was… unexpectedly kind.
So much so, it left me unsettled.
Could this boy really grow up to be the villain?
“You’re a strange baby.”
