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Translated By Arcane Translations

Translator: FusionX

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Sometimes, when caught in a vivid dream, one mistakes it for reality.

Had everything she experienced been a dream?

Though she refused to believe it, the drastic change in reality brought a sense of relief.

Her flesh no longer stung, and the blood-soaked basement was gone.

She looked around and saw the familiar sight of her bedroom.

There was no sign of Robert approaching with a sword, no trace of the dead attendants.

It couldn’t be a dream.

The sensations were far too real.

Her body was unharmed.

As she slowly sat up in bed, she noticed the cold sweat clinging to her forehead.

It must have been a nightmare.

However, she was annoyed by the absence of her attendants.

What time was it?

The sun seemed to have risen long ago, why hadn’t anyone come to attend to her?

She had heard Robert was coming to the mansion today.

Were they busy preparing for his arrival?

After waiting for what felt like an eternity, Yuria could stand it no longer.

She flung open the door and stepped out.

“…Is anyone there?”

Silence greeted her in the empty hallway.

She walked down the familiar corridor, a growing sense of unease building with every step.

She passed several attendants, but none were familiar.

Of course, they wouldn’t be.

She had killed them all.

Their gazes met, and they bowed respectfully.

They didn’t cower in fear as they used to.

They simply walked past, going about their duties.

Something was different.

Everything felt wrong, as if she was trapped in a dream.

A wave of dizziness washed over her, and she stumbled, reaching out to steady herself against the wall.

Her eyes fell on a familiar figure.

“Oh my, you’re awake.”

Renold.

Yuria’s eyes narrowed as she remembered the butler.

He bowed low, but his tone was laced with disdain.

It wasn’t just him.

Every attendant she encountered seemed to harbor ill intentions.

Skilled at reading emotions, Yuria laughed bitterly, pressing a hand to her forehead as she struggled to maintain her composure.

What happened in a single day?

The servants who trembled before her yesterday were now brazenly defying her.

The faint smile playing on Renold’s lips disgusted her.

How dare he, a traitor who sided with Robert, stroll around so casually?

“Have you finally lost your mind? I don’t understand why you’re here.”

“Hmm, I’m not sure what you mean. I’m here because I’m the head butler, am I not?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. The head butler isn’t you-”

Yuria’s voice trailed off as she tried to remember the name of the current head butler.

It wouldn’t come to mind, as if the person never existed.

After Renold left with Robert, she had personally appointed a new head butler.

Her father had already granted her a certain level of authority, making it possible.

“Was there someone else? I haven’t heard anything about it.”

Renold responded to her hesitation with a thinly veiled smirk.

Yuria wanted to retort, but couldn’t find the words.

The surrounding attendants snickered.

Her fist clenched, trembling with anger.

She forced herself to calm down and exhale slowly.

Showing her frustration here would only reveal her weakness.

She could deal with them later.

Memorizing the faces of the giggling attendants, she glared at Renold.

“I must have been mistaken. So, why are you here?”

“I’m here because of what you did when you were young. I don’t understand why you’re acting like you’ve never been here before.”

“…I clearly remember you siding with Robert. You even became the head butler, if I recall correctly. Where is Robert now?”

Renold tilted his head, his expression a mixture of genuine confusion and amusement.

“The Young Master is in his office, of course. I can escort you if you wish to see him, but you seem to be still half-asleep.”

“…What?”

Yuria was stunned.

She laughed incredulously, shaking her head.

She was the Young Lady.

Perhaps they were referring to Robert as the Young Master now that she was the acting head?

She bit her lip and forced the words out.

“That’s impossible.”

Robert could never be called the Young Master.

Even if she became the head, only her children would inherit that title.

So much couldn’t possibly change overnight.

A sudden wave of pain pulsed through her head, and she stumbled, grasping the wall for support.

She couldn’t comprehend Renold’s words, couldn’t accept this reality.

She was still the Young Lady… Acting Head, a title no one truly acknowledged.

Robert was still under the Saint’s protection, and the head butler wasn’t Renold.

Yet everyone treated this situation as normal, as if everything she had ever known was a lie.

“I’m… sick…”

She pinched her arm, and pain flared.

The cold sweat trickling down her back, the dread creeping through her veins, it was all real.

Then was this reality?

Impossible.

She was the acting head, having secured most of the authority from her father.

She was supposed to welcome Robert today and kill-

But Robert was already here, wasn’t he?

She couldn’t discern what was real.

Was the truth the memory of Robert arriving at the mansion and slaughtering her attendants? Or was it what she was experiencing now?

This had to be an illusion.

She had to wake up.

Yuria frantically scratched at her arms, ignoring the strange expressions of the surrounding attendants.

Their lips stretched into grotesque smiles, blood trickling down their chins as they cackled.

“You seem unwell today. Should we inform the Young Master?”

“I am the Young Lady. Stop talking nonsense.”

“What are you talking about? Didn’t the Duke abdicate long ago? All the nobles already support the Young Master. Are you having second thoughts?”

Renold’s lips twisted into a cruel mockery.

Yuria stopped scratching, a frown creasing her brow.

She dabbed at the blood staining her arm with a handkerchief, trying to think rationally.

This had to be an illusion.

The faces of these attendants were strangely familiar.

Of course, they would be.

She had killed them.

The dead couldn’t possibly come back to life.

The attendants continued to cackle, but Yuria’s expression calmed.

She wouldn’t be swayed by this.

Whatever Robert had done to her, this illusion wouldn’t last.

“Get out of my way. I need to see this so-called Young Master.”

“Very well.”

She hated his mocking tone, but it didn’t matter.

Once she escaped this illusion, everything would be fine.

She would kill Renold before dealing with Robert.

She would flay him alive, sprinkle salt on his wounds, and leave him for the insects.

That was the only way to appease her rage.

Yuria shoved past Renold, ignoring the faces of the attendants trailing behind her.

She refused to look at them.

They were dead because they were incompetent.

Because they had displeased her.

There was no point in them blaming her now.

She had killed those who dared to defy her, those who vowed revenge.

Death was the end of everything.

These deceased figures were just a part of the illusion.

Yuria laughed softly as she arrived at the Young Master’s office.

So Robert was now occupying the space where she used to work.

It was ridiculous.

She wouldn’t be shaken by this.

It was infuriating, but ultimately just an illusion.

Once she escaped, victory would be hers.

She threw open the door without knocking.

Robert sat behind her desk, his blue eyes devoid of emotion as they met hers.

He ran a hand through his ash-grey hair, a small smile playing on his lips as he spoke.

“You’ve finally arrived. Are you starting to understand this illusion?”

“I’ve learned that I can escape this illusion by killing you. You should just die quietly.”

Yuria drew a dagger from her cloak and walked towards him.

Robert seemed unarmed.

🚨 Important Notice 🚨


› This text was ripped off from arcanetranslations.com.

› Please only read it on the official website.

); }

The blade was coated with a deadly poison, powerful enough to kill with a single graze.

Even if she couldn’t stab him, she could still kill him.

She found his lack of resistance strange, but attributed it to his arrogance.

He would regret that confidence once she escaped.

“You’re going to kill me?”

Robert spoke, his voice still laced with that calm amusement.

Yuria scoffed.

His lack of resistance was laughable.

A few more steps, and she could plunge the dagger into his heart.

Her hand trembled as she gripped the dagger, but she maintained her composure, approaching him casually.

He didn’t seem to suspect a thing.

One more step.

Just as she lunged forward, ready to strike, Robert’s voice echoed in her ears.

“Unfortunately, you’re the one who’s going to die.”

The voice came from behind her.

The Robert who sat at the desk was gone.

The office itself had vanished.

Her outstretched arm was yanked back, bound tightly.

She found herself strapped to a chair, staring blankly ahead.

The basement.

The cold, dark room where she used to torture and punish Robert.

“What… sob!”

Before she could comprehend how she ended up here, blood trickled down her chin.

A sharp pain stabbed at her chest, then intensified, as if someone was squeezing her heart, trying to crush it.

She arched her back, but the restraints held her in place.

A silent scream tore from her throat.

She was familiar with inflicting pain, but had never experienced it herself.

The agony was unbearable.

She thrashed against the restraints, blood spilling from her lips as she screamed, but no one came to her rescue.

Would death bring an end to this torment?

She prayed for it, anything to escape this endless agony.

No one could possibly endure this.

Her hopes were dashed.

Robert approached her, a cruel smile playing on his lips as he spoke.

“You’ll die soon. I’ve learned that this level of pain inevitably leads to death. How are you feeling? Does it hurt?”

She thought she heard his voice, but couldn’t respond.

Her body was unharmed, yet the pain radiating through her was excruciating.

She couldn’t even scream.

All she could do was pray for it to end.

But when would it end?

“Then, I’ll see you again.”

Her consciousness faded, but his words pierced through the haze of pain.

Words she didn’t want to hear, couldn’t bring herself to believe.

For the first time, she realized how much she hated the word “again.”

Yuria’s consciousness slipped away.

But it wasn’t the end.

This was only the first death.

Her bad ending would continue, playing out again and again, each time accompanied by a resurrected memory she had desperately tried to forget.

Thus, she journeyed towards the 101st time.

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[Translator Notes]

[honestly i didnt know how this would turn out when i first started reading the story but im pretty satisfied with the outcome ngl]

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