Resetting Lady

Raymond raised his gun.

He stood here alone, an army by himself.

He began by sniping. Then, Raymond detonated the bombs at dawn. Zion helped him in that regard.

“I can’t go on anymore, sir.”

Zion grumbled the entire time, but in the end, he still went on to plant all that gunpowder, retreated, then started blowing them up. Slowly but surely, the fire began to spread, and people woke up screaming. Raymond aimed his gun at all the people who rushed out of their burning cots.

One, two, three down.

“Stop! Stop! There’s a sniper!”

People floundered and lowered themselves. The heads that he was about to shoot hurriedly disappeared. He clicked his tongue. He shot down seven, but he was still a long way off. Raymond observed those people’s faces and clothes from a distance.

They were wearing civilian clothes, but just as he had expected, their movements were clearly that of trained soldiers. Even though no soldiers had officially been reported to have come here.

“I knew it, His Majesty’s enraged.”

It looked like the current reigning king told them all to make absolutely sure that Carynne would come out of this dead.

Raymond loaded his gun.

He had enough ammunition.

* * *

Sir Raymond came.

Carynne could tell.

She could just tell.

“He must be crazy.”

Carynne stopped hanging out of the window. She could not comprehend why he was here. No, scratch that. She knew exactly why—because he loved her. Why. Why did he say he loved her. Carynne could not figure out the reason behind this.

She thought he’d be late again this time.

“In this iteration, somehow, all the events happened a little too fast.”

Carynne murmured to herself.

Perhaps it’s because she killed people in this iteration, but it’s undeniable that everything was happening a bit too quickly than any other time. She entered Isella’s household early, Raymond started to sympathize with her early because of the abuse she had received, and even his confession of love arrived earlier than it should have.

“But.”

But what’s the point of that? She’s going to die again this time anyway.

Even so, Carynne wanted to uphold her courtesy towards him again. At one point or another, she became resolved about the intention to die next to him in this iteration—if she really was meant to die.

Carynne turned to face Dullan. He was still piling up everything in the room in front of the door.

“Dullan. Sir Raymond is here.”

“…Yes.”

“Sir Raymond is here. I told him not to come.”

Carynne felt depressed again. This time again, he came to her side. This time again, he had fallen in love with a woman who would drag him down to hell with her, a woman who would do him no good at all.

And Carynne could not give anything back to him—not even emotions.

But this was new… and this was burdensome.

She could never return the same weight of emotions she was given.

Still, one thing’s for sure.

There was one single emotion that remained true. One emotion that she couldn’t let go—not when she had pointed a knife at Tom, now when she pointed a knife at Donna, not when she tried to surrender herself completely to madness.

“I pity him.”

She would never be able to think of him as a human being. Thus, she felt pity for him as she watched him make all these meaningless efforts.

This shallow pity was the single, undeniable truth she held onto.

He would forget everything once she resets. That’s what Carynne really, really hated the most.

“I wish that Sir Raymond will remember me.”

“…Right.”

Dullan replied to Carynne.

Strangely enough, Dullan’s voice was peaceful. It was her first time to hear such tranquility from him.

Thu-dud, crack!

“Open up!”

At that moment, she heard the room’s door being broken apart. Verdic was now standing outside the door, axe in hand.

Once that door was pried open, she would die.

Carynne asked Dullan.

“…Why are you here, doing this?”

Why was he here? Carynne wondered.

But he did not answer. Contrary to what he told Verdic, he never touched Carynne. All he did was… ask questions.

Dullan glanced at the door and told her,

“I-I’m estimating the time.”

“…What time.”

Carynne asked Dullan.

And Dullan answered Carynne.

“The time for you to die.”

* * *

“That pair of wretched mongrels.”

Verdic gnashed his molars. It’s obvious just who was pointing his gun at this place—Raymond Saytes, that goddamn son of a bitch.

All around him were the civilian-clothed soldiers that the current king had deployed at this place, so it was absolutely ridiculous that this was happening. If not for them, all of Verdic’s own private soldiers would have been killed.

“I shall make sure to take care of the matter, just as you have ordered, Your Majesty.”

Of course he should. Senile and on the verge of death as he was, the current king still held much influence. Verdic was a foreign merchant who had no roots in this country, but he sympathized with the old man who had lost his children.

So, he would make sure that the one who’s been dragged here would not die in peace.

“What do you think is the situation like now?”

When Verdic asked, the soldier answered briefly, discontent apparent in his tone.

“Mister Verdic Evans, you should have cut her throat the first chance you got and sent her head to His Majesty.”

“…So it’s not good, it seems.”

As they both gauged the situation, the soldier was somehow trying to pass off the blame to him, and Verdic glanced at him once, thinking that he was pathetic. Right after, he shouted at the coachman.

“Take Isella and escape! I’m going to wrap this up!”

Isella ran out, her face deathly pale. Verdic grabbed Isella by her forearm.

“The situation has gone downhill. I’ll just show you that wench’s head later.”

“F-Father. What in the world is going on?”

“I said go. Raymond, that son of a bitch. Looks like he’s here.”

That jackass should have loved his daughter. He must pay back what he owed. Verdic gritted his teeth.

“GO!”

Verdic pushed Isella into the carriage, but she begged him.

“Father, escape with me, please!”

Isella clung to Verdic by the sleeve, but he merely slapped his daughter’s hand away.

“I will not leave until I hack away at her neck myself.”

Verdic’s eyes were completely bloodshot. He did not sleep properly at all, and some gunpowder had flown into his eyes.

Verdic felt as if she had been born for the purpose of slaughtering that girl—that red-haired wench.

He would never leave until he had cut off her head personally.

“Father, let’s just go back. It’s too dangerous!”

“Start the carriage and set off!”

Verdic closed the carriage door roughly.

Mercy was not an option.

Raymond, Carynne, Dullan.

Verdic did not tell his daughter, but doubts about Dullan had also started to fester within him.

“It’s already come to this, but why isn’t Carynne’s neck hanging just yet?!”

Why hadn’t that man killed Carynne yet? Why, when Raymond had arrived at this place already?

Verdic picked up his axe. At that moment, the iron doors were successfully broken.

“Get out of the way! I’ll take care of this myself!”

“It’s dangerous!”

“Do you even hear yourself?! The only people inside are a skinny, worthless priest and a goddamn wench! Just block the entrance properly!”

Verdic ran up the spiral staircase. It was dark inside, but he was not afraid. Anger dominated him entirely. He ran, and ran, and ran up the stairs. With his axe firmly gripped in one hand.

I will slaughter that wench with my own hands.

* * *

The wind was blowing hard. It felt as if the tower was being swept away.

She could not understand any of what Dullan’s saying. Carynne asked once again.

“What… did you just say?”

“……”

Dullan looked towards the base of the tower. And, he answered.

“…J-Jump down. I-If you don’t jump right now… Verdic will c-come in.”

Dullan, of course, was not saying that there was some sort of safety device that would catch her should she jump. Carynne looked down.

He’s telling her to die.

“But Sir Raymond— he’s here.”

However, Dullan urged her hastily yet again.

“C-Carynne.”

“……”

“In j-just a little while, y-you will also understand. This… is my consolation, t-to you.”

“……”

“Hurry.”

Carynne just stared at him. And she grabbed the window frames. She could not understand why Dullan was telling her to jump now. She could not understand why they all wanted her to die. If she could just get even the smallest hint, she vowed that she’d do anything. At least, that’s what she thought.

“But here… and today—”

“You’re u-used to this already, right?”

Dullan’s counterargument was correct. Death was a humdrum routine for Carynne. The death that lay ahead of her was not particularly special either. The middle of the road to get here was a bit different, but the conclusion was not. Verdic had acted like this before, too.

SLAM!

“…Why are you demanding me to do something like this?”

What does this have anything to do with you?

Carynne wanted to ask. But Dullan would not answer. On and on, this cycle went. He’s always been so manipulative.

But now, there was no time to ask.

“What gives you the right to do this?”

As if to hurry her, Dullan pushed her shoulder.

“Because of the wager’s outcome.”