Chapter 3
Elium, once a symbol of peace, had vanished without a trace at the hands of the Rintvel Empire, which had endured for a thousand years—before even reaching its 200th anniversary.
It was oddly peaceful. As if it were a country that had never known war.
Time had reversed.
‘Why? Who on earth would do something like this…?’
Suddenly, something came to Charmant’s mind.
Could it be… the disciples? Could they really have done something like this for her?
No, that couldn’t be. But the only people she had kept close were her disciples.
They were more precious to her than her own life.
Of course, it was her disciples who had driven her to death, albeit under the command of their lord.
“What on earth is going on…?”
In any case, she was in the middle of Elium, and it was still seven years before the war began.
Which meant that Rintvel hadn’t yet declared the Continental War.
That didn’t mean that relations between Rintvel and Elium were friendly, but even so, they weren’t as hostile as they would become after the war started.
Enemy territory. Seven years ago. Peace.
Charmant repeated those three words to herself again and again, quickly and firmly.
Was it really before the war?
If so, did that mean she could stop the war from ever happening?
Charmant hated war. It had never been something she chose.
She had merely been a dog following her lord’s command.
But still, she bore responsibility for the war.
If she could have prevented it, she would have. She had often regretted not doing so.
Though, by the time she was drenched in the blood of thousands, she had become like a person who had lost all reason.
Charmant felt something boiling within her.
She could undo it.
Undo the mistakes she had made.
“Cherish it. Carefully.”
Murmuring those words both inwardly and aloud, Charmant stepped inside.
After taking a long rest, her thoughts were finally beginning to settle.
She began forming a hypothesis.
That the owner of this shop was someone deeply cherished and warm-hearted in the eyes of those around them.
Otherwise, how could so many people have come by?
Aside from her disciples, no one had ever visited her like this for ordinary reasons.
And judging by the unscarred body, this person clearly hadn’t been someone who had rolled through battlefields like she had.
If she made a mistake or did something wrong, the shop’s owner might be deeply disappointed when they returned.
She had told the tanuki beastkin earlier that she wasn’t Charmant, but she felt she shouldn’t do that again.
The owner was clearly someone precious, and if people thought a stranger had taken their place, it might be too shocking.
Even in enemy territory, one should maintain proper manners.
She decided to pretend to be Charmant Pepe, the antique shop owner, and quietly manage the shop while avoiding customers as much as possible—until she could find a way to return to her own body.
Return?
A mocking echo seemed to whisper through her mind.
That’s right. Charmant had no place to return to.
“…What do I do.”
If she returned to her body, would she just end up right back at the brink of death? Would she feel that same despair and pain all over again?
Would she have to look at his face again while bound by that leash? Or would she return with time still reversed?
Even if she got her body back, unless she fled, she would inevitably have to prepare for war again—just as she had before.
But now that she understood what he had truly been thinking, could she really go through with it?
Not only might she fail to stop the war, but she could face an even more terrible death for disobeying her lord.
Even now, she felt disgusted with herself, drenched in blood. She’d rather take her own life than go through it again.
Was she the only one who remembered?
Or did Rakan know time had reversed too?
Her thoughts grew chaotic again.
“…I don’t want to go back.”
The words slipped out before she realized. She normally didn’t speak more than necessary, and now she was talking to herself?
Startled by her own confession, Charmant clamped her mouth shut.
But it was the truth.
She wouldn’t mind getting her body back, but she didn’t want to return to Rintvel.
Above all, she wasn’t sure she could stop the war.
Her magic and strength remained, but…
Was there a way to reclaim her body without going back?
She began to wonder if there was something she could do here, before the war broke out, if she couldn’t return to her body before then.
But first, there was something she needed to take care of immediately.
Charmant sighed as she held the box that had been handed to her earlier.
She couldn’t just open someone else’s belongings without permission.
She set the box down by the sunny window, then picked up a cloth from the floor and draped it over the top.
By the time Charmant emerged from her deep thoughts, it was late afternoon.
“Cleaning should be fine.”
Having eaten all the sweet potatoes the tanuki had brought for the shop owner, she decided to clean as a way to return the favor.
Despite the tanuki beastkin dusting the place earlier, the shop was still covered in layers of grime—it had clearly gone a long time without a proper cleaning.
Each movement stirred up more dust, making her cough. And the lack of organization made it impossible to stay lost in thought.
The original owner must have had a weak body, but seemingly excellent immunity.
Otherwise, there was no way someone could run a shop in a place like this for so long without falling ill.
Charmant picked up the broom leaning against the wall.
She could’ve just used magic to clean everything in an instant, but for some reason, she felt like doing it by hand.
Swipe swipe. Scrub scrub.
While cleaning, she happened to glance up and noticed a large sheet of paper stuck to the wall.
“Why didn’t I notice that before?”
Setting the broom aside, she walked closer and read the words written on it.
“Rules, huh.”
※ Rules of Charmant’s Secret Antique Shop ※
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The shop must open at 10 a.m. sharp.
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Closing time is 6 p.m.
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Absolutely no recommendations.
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Only one request per week. (Exception: Alessandro’s requests.)
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Never accept requests from the dead.
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Exchanges are strictly prohibited.
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Only one transaction per customer per day—choose one of: buy, sell, or request.
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Let the customer set the price.
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All transactions must be paid for.
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On April 31st, the shop opens at midnight.
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Weekends are off—even if war breaks out!
Charmant furrowed her brow as she finished reading.
Aside from rules 1, 2, 3, and 7, everything else seemed strange.
Especially number 10. April 31st? According to Rintvel’s calendar, April only had 30 days.
And since Elium used the same calendar, it shouldn’t be any different.
Opening at midnight on a non-existent day? That was bizarre.
Charmant picked up the calendar sitting on a nearby table.
Today was May 1st, so she flipped back one page to April.
Elium’s calendar also ended at April 30.
“It ends on the 30th here too. Was it a mistake?”
The owner didn’t seem very organized, so it wouldn’t be surprising if they got the date wrong. Everyone makes mistakes.
The real problem was that today was Monday—which meant the shop should’ve been open.
Her gaze darted to find the clock. The moment she saw it, her shoulders flinched.
It was already 5 o’clock. In the evening.
“…Oh no.”
She had broken the rules on the very first day.
“What now…”
Charmant, who had always been a stickler for rules, felt deeply uneasy.
Since the shop hadn’t opened, it was her responsibility.
After some thought, she opened her palm and began gathering her energy.
A faint light swirled before solidifying into a small magic stone.
“This should be enough to make up for a day.”
She didn’t know exactly how much the shop earned daily, but a small magic stone like this would be worth about a month’s salary for an average job in Rintvel—more than fair.
She placed the dark purple stone in the corner of a tray beneath the rule sheet.
That night, at midnight.
Charmant had finished cleaning the last room.
Rather than feeling exhausted, her body felt refreshed after moving around for the first time in ages.
Best of all, there was no stench of blood.
Whatever the owner had done to the shop, it somehow smelled sweet despite the thick dust—almost pleasant.
There was a faint aroma of herbs, mixed with the scent of old books, like something you’d smell in a library—though there weren’t even any books here.
‘This isn’t a library, and there are no books. How strange…’
She’d tried to locate the source of the scent while cleaning but had found nothing.
It must be the shop’s own natural smell.
“Can I go to sleep now?”
She felt a bit hungry, having only eaten the sweet potatoes earlier, but she wasn’t one to snack at night unless she was on a march.
She wasn’t sleepy yet, but she needed
