TSFA l CH 94

Chapter 94

“There’s a mercenary who played a big role in ending the subjugation quickly.”

“Really?”

Crown Prince Vane’s face brightened. As Nike said, this time the subjugation ended unusually quickly.

“He’s an exceptionally skilled mercenary. Thanks to him, I was able to survive this battle.”

“…?”

He saved Nike’s life? Vane knew how rare that was. The crown prince’s sharp mind quickly connected the dots—Nike had come straight to see him after returning from the battlefield, and the first thing he did was praise an ordinary mercenary’s skills… especially pointing out that he saved a royal’s life.

That could only mean one thing—Nike wanted Vane to personally acknowledge and reward this person.

Vane felt both surprised and pleased.

Nike had always been a younger brother he felt both grateful and guilty toward—grateful for his dedication, guilty because Nike never asked for anything or complained. And now, for the first time, Nike was making a request?

“Of course! If he saved your life, I’d be very thankful. I’ll personally reward him. Who is he?”

Nike took a deep breath before answering.

“…I have a request.”

That day, right after the subjugation ended, Nike thought of Ryan.

***

“Prince, your older brother is the crown prince, correct?”

“…?”

Ryan obviously knew that, so bringing it up now meant he had something to ask. Nike nodded.

“Yes.”

“Well, I was wondering if you could… subtly tell the crown prince my tragic story.” Ryan tugged on the strap of his cape, fidgeting. “It’s been… oh, now it’s 13 years since the Conrad Massacre. I just wish the crown prince would know that I wasn’t the one who committed that crime.”

“….”

“You know it wasn’t just a simple crime—it was a massacre. Because of that stigma, I can’t even dream of making something of myself. It’s frustrating.”

Nike’s eyes dropped. Ever since finding out Ryan was actually powerless, he had felt sorry for him—half his life spent unjustly imprisoned, and now stuck with a criminal record for the rest of his days.

“You remember my daughter and son, right?”

“….”

“My daughter Bania—the sweet, kind one—you remember her, right…?” Ryan’s voice turned heavy and sad. Nike looked back at him.

“She hasn’t done anything wrong. One day she’ll want to marry a good man… but if her father’s a criminal, that could ruin her chances.”

Nike could guess Ryan’s real wish—he probably wanted a retrial for the Conrad Massacre.

Nike wanted to help. He wanted to prove Ryan’s innocence and bring the real culprits to justice. But… it was impossible.

The imperial family didn’t have that kind of power.

Nike bit his lip, ashamed. An innocent imperial subject was asking him for help, but he couldn’t do anything.

“…I’m sorry, but we can’t reopen the trial.”

Nike avoided Ryan’s eyes.

“I want to clear your name too… but I don’t have that kind of power—”

“Your Highness?!”

Ryan looked shocked. Nike looked up to see him smiling.

“That’s not what I meant!”

“What?”

“Hahaha! Of course that’s impossible. The Basenberg family orchestrated the trial from the start—how could we possibly undo that?”

Ryan waved it off and continued:

“All I want is for the crown prince to at least know I’m innocent.”

***

Back in the present, Nike raised his head. Vane looked like he was ready to throw a banquet.

“Why are you hesitating? Just say it. You think I don’t know what you want?”

“That man’s name is…”

“Yes?”

Nike exhaled.

“Ryan Belzer.”

Vane froze.

“He was originally the fifth son of the Basenberg family.”

The crown prince’s eyes widened in shock.

***

We returned to Belzer, and life went on as usual.

One morning, after breakfast, everyone was in the living room with hot cocoa.

“I should go wash the dishes.”

“No!”

When Marchen stood up, Ryan’s face went pale.

“I-I’ll do it, Your Highness!”

“…Why are you acting like this?”

“From now on, you’re not allowed in the kitchen!”

Ryan rushed to wash the dishes himself.

Ever since realizing our sixth child—Mario Basenberg—was targeting the prince, Ryan had gone into “overprotective mode.” He wouldn’t even let the prince near anything sharp, just in case.

The day I turned back time, I didn’t rewind far—just to that morning. Any further would have been too costly for me.

I sent Kali on a secret mission:

“Don’t ask questions—go to this dessert café kitchen right now. The owner is about to be bribed to poison the food. Replace the poison with an emetic and bring back the original poison so I can analyze it.”

Kali, trained more like an assassin than a bodyguard, carried it out perfectly.

For Marchen, I set up an act:

“Someone suspects you have a monster inside you. We need to show them you don’t. Drink the tea, pretend to collapse from poison, and use this fake blood pouch I made.”

Everything played out exactly—Mario came, we went to the café, Marchen drank the tea, spat “blood,” and collapsed. The reaction was so realistic that everyone panicked.

Mario left quickly after seeing there was no real effect.

Later, I told Ryan the whole story, including Marchen’s identity. He worried—not for Marchen, but for me.

“What level are you at now?”

“In Reversal of Time? The final stage.”

That was the only ability I had after coming back, and I’d trained it for two years.

Ryan frowned.

“Don’t overuse it. You’ll die.”

“Don’t worry.”

***

I remembered the Basenberg ability manual:

Reversal of Time – the power to rewind time.

• Stage 1: rewind within 48 hours. 
• Stage 2: rewind within 3 years. 
• Stage 3: rewind within 10 years (mental erosion begins). 
• Stage 4: rewind to any point since first awakening (severe mental erosion risk). 

If the total amount of time rewound exceeds ~120 years, the user will fall into irreversible madness.

But I wasn’t worried—past users went mad because they wanted to keep living forever. I had no such desire. As long as my total rewound time didn’t reach 120 years, I’d be fine.

‘If I can’t succeed within 120 years, then I deserve to fail!’

***

Just then—

“Aaaaaah! L-Lord!”

I jumped. It was Max, the mercenary guarding our front gate. He burst into the room, eyes wide.

“O-outside! There’s… there’s a sparkling… i-imperial carriage!”

What?!