BIWMD 01

Chapter 1. Leave Me Alone! But No One Listened (1)

I should just die.

I panicked a little, but it’s not like this is my first or second time regressing. This must be the hundredth time. I quickly got my bearings.

Yeah, I’ll die. I don’t know why I’ve returned to the past again, but dying will make it clear.

I searched inside my body, but I couldn’t sense enough magic to kill myself instantly. I’d have to use this sword, then.

When I didn’t drop the blade, murmurs spread through the spectators.

“…Shouldn’t someone stop her?”

“Who, that crazy Crowell?”

“Y-You go try…!”

Even so, not a single person actually stepped forward. All bark and no bite.

I tilted the corner of my mouth in a crooked smile, then snatched the sword completely from the person in front of me.

Clang!

“Ugh!”

The boy, who had his sword easily taken away, grimaced and clutched his twisted wrist. I murmured to him quietly.

“Just borrowing it for a bit.”

I didn’t wait for a reply. I simply raised my head. I truly only meant to borrow it for a moment.

I grasped the hilt correctly and aimed the blade at my throat.

‘Let me never wake again.’

…It’s really time to stop.

As I muttered inwardly and prepared to move my arm—

“Stop!”

A sudden voice interrupted me.

“……”

What now? Who?

Of course, I had no intention of stopping just because someone shouted. I didn’t even know who the voice belonged to.

Probably just another unlucky student about to witness someone die for the first time.

But the fact that a voice called out to me among this crowd of passive bystanders made me hesitate for a split second—and that was my mistake.

Just before the blade could slice—

“Edith Crowell!”

“Ugh.”

A firm, strong hand seized my wrist and forced it to a halt.

“Let go.”

“……”

…You got here this fast?

I struggled briefly with the hand, but when the blade cut through empty air, I gave up and lowered my wrist.

A voice filled with irritation escaped me.

“…What do you want?”

“Sigh.”

Our eyes met for a brief moment—his sharp navy-blue gaze piercing into me. It was calm, and so clear.

And at that moment, I realized who this unwelcome intruder was.

‘Ah.’

The strength left my hand. He didn’t miss the opportunity—he stepped on the blade and pinned it to the floor in the blink of an eye.

Clang!

The chilling sound of metal warping echoed.

With just the heel of his boot, he had completely bent the blade into useless scrap metal. He gestured toward the now-wrecked sword and scoffed.

“…Were you really about to end your life with that piece of junk?”

It was a perfectly usable sword—until you stepped on it. I swallowed that retort and answered quietly.

“…Yes. I was planning to die with that piece of junk.”

I know this boy.

Which is why I felt more confusion than anger that he interrupted my suicide.

Because the person I know had no reason whatsoever to do that.

Ethan Behemoth, the only heir of the Duke of Behemoth.

A genius knight of unparalleled skill—he would go on to become a hero as renowned as I was in every timeline.

If I was called the great mage loved by magic itself, then he was called the model of all sword-wielding knights.

Though… he had a rather dishonorable nickname, too.

“The War Maniac.”

Whenever he joined a monster-slaying expedition, the clean-up involved removing the mountain of corpses he created more than the monsters themselves.

They said that when he stood atop the pile of bodies he had cut down, his black hair drenched in blood, looking for the next thing to kill—he looked no different from a demon.

…And, he was once my lover.

‘Let’s break up.’

‘…Edith Crowell, what did you just say?’

‘Who knows when the world might end. What’s the point of this childish relationship? I said let’s stop.’

I had unilaterally ended our relationship.

But all of that is gone now.

That Ethan Behemoth and I were once lovers.

That he loved me, and I loved him.

Everything that happened before regression had vanished without a trace.

I nearly faltered at his familiar face, but calmly asked,

“Why are you stopping me, Lord Behemoth?”

“Why are you trying to die?”

“What business is it of yours?”

At my sharp tone, he clamped his mouth shut as if he had no retort.

“I…”

Just then, a commotion arose among the students silently observing.

“Excuse me—let me through.” A voice called, and soon someone pushed through the crowd.

A boy with wide eyes shouted toward Ethan.

“Ethan! What the heck is going on here?”

“And who are you supposed to be?” I snapped, my nerves on edge.

The boy flinched and scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

“Ethan just suddenly ran off in the middle of our sparring, so I followed him in shock….”

He trailed off, slowly scanning the surroundings. His voice weakened.

“Why are there so many people gathered here? And isn’t that guy a knight? Why were you sparring with a mage…”

Then, his eyes landed on my face—and his expression turned pale.

“Wait. That blood on your face… This wasn’t a sparring match, was it?”

He’s more perceptive than Ethan Behemoth.

There’s rarely blood in a regular sparring match, after all.

At this point in time, I had alienated nearly every student at the academy. No one even cared enough to stop me from dying.

As he finished speaking, his gaze fixated on the blood dripping from my cheek and hand.

Ethan Behemoth’s gaze followed, his eyes falling from my cheek to my hand.

“Your hand… What happened to it?”

I didn’t even want to talk. You dared to interfere with my death.

I shrugged without a word, and Ethan redirected his glare toward the boy who had backed away.

“You.”

“……!!”

The boy looked like he was about to bite his tongue and die from the fear of being called out.

“Did you cut her?”

The boy desperately shook his head.

I had wielded the sword myself, so it wasn’t really his fault.

But the way he shrank back was amusing, so I deliberately spoke late.

“…Not something you two need to worry about. Hey.”

I jerked my chin at the new boy.

“Huh? Me?”

“Yes. Why don’t you take Lord Behemoth and leave?”

“…Right. Maybe we should go, Ethan.”

Thankfully, at least one of them had some sense. Please, just get lost already.

But while the boy replied lightly, Ethan Behemoth’s voice remained low and strained, filled with discomfort.

“Even though Edith Crowell just tried to end her life right here, Yan.”

“…What?”

The boy—Yan—turned back to me in shock.

“……”

I just shrugged again.

Yan seemed to think this was some kind of bullying through sparring or something.

And even now, Ethan Behemoth’s eyes refused to leave me. They were far more persistent and heavy than the bystanders’.

…Why?

“Seriously, what does any of this have to do with you two? Mind your own business.”

Now that I thought about it, it was even more infuriating. Why are you stopping me for no reason?

It wasn’t just a knee-jerk moral reaction to seeing someone about to die.

For someone to rush in and take my sword in a crowd of passive onlookers—it had to be more than just “justice.”

So, what’s your real reason?

If it’s not something that can convince me, I’ll just die in this life—dragging you with me.

I stared Ethan Behemoth down.

“…Ugh!”

Suddenly, a skull-splitting migraine struck. I clutched my forehead as all strength left me.

‘What am I even doing?’

Really, everything could be solved cleanly if I just died.

That’s all I had to do.

After hundreds of regressions, death had become second nature.

And now you’re here, clueless and making everything more complicated. Why?

This annoying bond in front of me—it grated on my nerves.

In all of my regressions, this was the first time Ethan Behemoth had ever grabbed my wrist at this point in the timeline.

…Huh?

Right. It’s the first time.

So why did this happen?

Something felt off and awkward… something I was forgetting.

Something important had gone wrong.

…The headache worsened and throbbed behind my eyes. I rubbed my face in frustration.

This is so damn annoying.

I shoved Ethan Behemoth’s shoulder hard.

“Get out of the way. And since you broke my sword, get me a new one. Anything will do.”

“If I give you another one, you’ll try to kill yourself again?”

“……”

Of course, his shoulder didn’t budge at all—it was like a stone wall. And no one among the bystanders stepped in to help me.

I clenched my teeth.

“Seriously. What. Does. It. Matter. It’s my life. Mind your business—”

“What do you mean, ‘what does it matter’?! We’re in the same group for the upcoming monster suppression exercise!”

“…What?”

“…Huh? You didn’t know?”

I dumbly echoed the answer from Yan, the boy who had interrupted.

Ethan Behemoth gently removed my hand from his shoulder and muttered,

“You didn’t even know we were in the same group?”

“……”

Of course I remembered that he and I had participated in the monster suppression training.

I had perfect recall of everything that happened across my hundreds of regressions—how events started, how they unraveled, and who was involved.

I was just a little fuzzy right now because of the headache.

“Wait a minute…”

So I wasn’t surprised by something I already knew.

But my heart started to pound—wildly, like it was about to burst. I clutched my chest with trembling hands.

My heart was beating erratically. It was a foreign feeling.

It was the first time I’d felt this way since I began knowing everything that happened post-regression.

I urgently grabbed Yan, the boy who dropped the critical info.

“…Sir Yan. Today… Are we still before the monster suppression training?”

Yan looked at me like I was crazy and casually replied,

“Yeah. It’s in two days. …Are you feeling okay?”

“…You’ve been acting strange since earlier.”

With both of their eyes on me, I couldn’t calm down.

Of course not.

Because the curse that forced me into this endless regression began—during that very monster suppression training!

And now you’re telling me it hasn’t happened yet?

Pain spread from my temples to my eyelids.

The piece I’d been missing.

This was it.

The curse I was afflicted with… If I died before reaching the “end,” I would always return to “the day after the curse began.”

…Even though I finally succeeded in dying from the curse, I hadn’t regressed back from death.

The regression point itself is a mess now.

To think I came back to a time before the curse even started. Why?