Volume 8 Chapter 52 Nightmare of Happiness Regression
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
Soft sounds filled the small tent, quiet and rhythmic.
A man sat on the edge of a makeshift bed. A woman knelt before him, her orange hair brushing his knees. Their secret meeting was not meant for others to see.
”…Hm?”
The tent flap rustled open. Light spilled inside.
Flavia, her silver hair damp from the night air, stood at the entrance. Her wide eyes froze on the pair.
”Flavia!” Klock blurted, straightening at once. “Is something wrong?”
”Yes,” she said calmly. “Primlena hasn’t returned to our tent, so I came to check on her.”
Her gaze shifted toward the orange-haired Merfolk, who looked away in panic.
Klock coughed, scrambling for words. “Ah—no, it’s fine. She’ll be back soon. Go ahead.”
”I see,” Flavia murmured, though she didn’t leave. Instead, she stepped closer.
”Lord Klock,” she said, dropping to one knee. “I know I’m inexperienced and hardly worthy of trust, but I swore my life to serve you. Please—allow me to be of use.”
Klock blinked. “Uh… what are you talking about?”
”You needn’t hide it. I saw you showing your swelling injury to Primlena. You were asking for a diagnosis, weren’t you?”
The air froze.
Klock and Primlena exchanged a look.
Flavia continued, solemn as a priest. “Forestkin have some knowledge of medicine. Please, let me examine you as well. It might be illness, a sting, or even malnutrition.”
”N-no, that’s not—” Klock tried.
But Flavia’s earnest eyes only sharpened.
He instinctively covered himself, prompting her to sigh like a scolding parent. “My lord. Please.”
”Flavia, wait,” Primlena cut in quickly. “You’re misunderstanding. Truly.”
”Am I?” Flavia frowned. “Primlena, are you claiming the right of diagnosis for yourself? You’re not a healer by trade. What if you’re wrong?”
”That’s not what I meant!” Primlena said, voice breaking. “This isn’t about sickness!”
”…Then what is it?” Flavia asked.
The silence grew painful.
Klock groaned under his breath. Why me…
Finally, Primlena drew in a deep breath. “Flavia, do you know what… intimacy between man and woman means?”
Flavia tilted her head. “It’s how children are made, I think. I’ve heard of it.”
”I see,” Primlena muttered weakly. “Heard of it.”
Klock wanted to disappear. Please stop talking, he thought.
”So you don’t actually know how it works?” Primlena asked carefully.
”I know it begins with a kiss,” Flavia said with certainty.
”That’s only a prelude. You can’t make children with just that.”
Flavia’s eyes widened. “Then—the act I just saw…”
Primlena went red. “Y-yes. That’s… part of it. I—I’m his betrothed. It’s my duty to bear his child. So… when there’s time… No, forget I said that!”
Klock covered his face, shoulders trembling between embarrassment and laughter. Even for him, this was too much.
”Flavia,” he said, sighing, “you were planning to marry without knowing what that meant?”
”…I-I suppose so,” she whispered.
”It’s not your fault,” he added quickly. “But as a wife, you’ll need to learn.”
Flavia’s face burned crimson. “Then earlier—you weren’t trying to treat swelling with… saliva?”
Primlena groaned. “No. I was… stimulating him. To produce—well, seed.”
”Seed… from there?” Flavia whispered, horrified.
That was the final straw. Klock turned away, shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
Flavia bowed her head deeply. “My lord, forgive my ignorance. I spoke out of turn. I’m ashamed of my foolishness.”
The tent fell silent again—this time, with relief instead of tension.
”…It’s fine. Everyone starts somewhere,” Klock said.
Though really, most people learn about such things by their early teens.
Flavia had lived for over a century—yet somehow, she’d made it this far without knowing what sex even was.
What kind of life do you lead to stay that innocent for a hundred years? he wondered.
”Lord Klock,” she said suddenly, bowing low. “Please forgive my ignorance. Would you be willing to teach me the act of… creating life?”
He nearly choked. “L-let’s calm down, yeah?”
This was impossible. Completely impossible.
If it were Rachel instead of Flavia, she would’ve laughed it off, and that would’ve been the end of it.
But no—it had to be the elven princess.
Treating her with respect made everything ten times harder.
”To not even know my duty as a woman is shameful,” Flavia went on. “But please, give me a chance to redeem myself.”
”Okay, okay, enough. Look, Cianie’s going to be back soon. Let’s just… call it a night.”
He wanted to tell her to stop talking altogether.
She was intelligent—usually. But right now, she sounded hopelessly clueless.
Maybe this was what people meant by a clash of values.
”…As you wish,” she said softly.
He sighed with relief. “Good. We’ll talk another time.”
Flavia’s expression turned pale with despair.
”Wait—no, no,” he stammered. “I’ll call you when I have time again, all right? These things need mental preparation.”
Her eyes brightened. “Understood. I’ll be ready.”
He made sure she didn’t leave thinking she’d been dismissed. The promise seemed to calm her down, and color returned to her face.
He exhaled. Why am I teaching an elven princess about this anyway? She’s, what, a hundred and thirty? Shouldn’t she know?
He mentally blamed Isabella for her questionable education.
After a polite bow, Flavia and Primlena left the tent. Primlena gave him a weary shrug before following.
Klock was finally alone.
Man, I’m exhausted.
He lay down, staring up at the fabric ceiling. So much for deepening our “bond.”
At least Primlena had been thorough enough to clear his head. Sleep tugged at him immediately.
Better not pass out first, he thought hazily. Cianie gets jealous when I do that.
She’d act like it didn’t bother her—but he knew better.
She’d always been like that.
She’ll probably say, “You could’ve slept, I wouldn’t have minded.”
He smiled faintly. And that’s exactly why you don’t believe her, right?
His thoughts drifted.
Before long, his eyes slipped shut, and the darkness swallowed him whole.
* * *
”Klock. What did you want to discuss?”
The voice was firm, deep, and achingly familiar.
”Huh? Oh—yes, Father.”
”You seem distracted. Didn’t sleep last night?”
Klock blinked. The man’s tone felt both strange and natural, as if from another life.
He answered automatically. “No, I’m fine. But I need to talk about Gina.”
”Again? We’ll speak in my study later.”
His father turned away, shadow passing over his face. The door shut, leaving Klock alone in the hallway of the estate.
”…What was I doing?” he murmured. “I was just… asleep, wasn’t I?”
The world felt hazy, uncertain.
* * *
”Such beauty,” a silky voice purred. “Armor can’t compare to how radiant you look in porcelain white.”
”Totally agree,” another chimed in, grinning. “She’s gorgeous. Even VioVio has to admit it. Second only to KisKis, maybe!”
Two women sang praises to the Hero standing before them.
Both were former princesses—known across the Demon Continent as two of its Three Great Beauties.
Most women would have blushed from such flattery.
Cianie did not.
”This is my home,” she said coolly. “Mine and Klock’s. Get out.”
”Please, Hero,” the first one—pale and graceful—said gently. “We didn’t come to fight.”
”Yeah,” the other added, hovering above the roof with batlike wings. “VioVio just wants to be friends.”
The Vampire Princess landed lightly on the roof tiles, smiling faintly.
Cianie could attack now—kill them, a thought whispered—but she didn’t move.
What she’d seen earlier… still unsettled her.
”No need for hostility,” said the first woman, a Succubus with crimson eyes. “Our last battle showed us both how formidable the other is. Fighting again would be meaningless. Don’t you think we’d be better as allies?”
”You’re offering an alliance?” Cianie asked. “Or a truce?”
”Neither,” the Succubus said sweetly. “I’m asking you to kneel.”
The night fell utterly still.
She smiled—a calm, elegant curve of lips.
The Vampire beside her smirked nervously.
”What… did you just say?” Cianie whispered.
”I mean you no harm,” the Succubus continued. “I’ll grant you whatever you desire most—your heart’s wish. Eternal peace with your beloved.”
”Eternal peace…?”
”Yes. Literally eternal,” the woman said. “As Mistress of the Crimson Spire, I can make that possible.”
She stepped closer, hand outstretched.
Cianie tensed, eyes narrowing.
”In exchange,” the Succubus said, “you will offer yourself to me. Serve as my hand—bound by a familiar contract.”
She paused, smiling faintly. “Don’t worry about your fellow humans. I’ve no interest in them.”
She stopped before Cianie, arm extended for a handshake.
Up close, Kispe looked almost delicate. Petite, round-eyed, with the kind of charm that belonged to sheltered nobility.
She seemed far too innocent for someone who ruled demons.
Yet the air around her shimmered with quiet menace.
That smile. That air.
Something about it felt wrong.
If not for the faint aura of a succubus radiating from her violet eyes, Cianie might not have found Kispe so unsettling.
She might actually be the cutest thing alive, Cianie thought.
Maybe that’s what demons really are—monsters that wear the faces of perfect girls.
”Oh my,” Kispe murmured.
Cianie slapped her hand away with a sharp pat. Kispe blinked, her expression somewhere between surprise and mild disappointment.
”You’re overstepping,” Cianie said. “Did you really think I’d let you turn me into your familiar?”
”I see,” Kispe replied softly. “Perhaps my proposal insulted your pride. Still, will you reconsider? There’s no reason to endanger your lover fighting us.”
”This is your last chance, y’know?” Viola chimed in with a playful grin. “You really should take the deal. We all know Lady Hero’s strong, but still…”
Cianie didn’t answer.
Her silence was answer enough.
”…Very well,” Kispe said. “Then let me make a different offer—a rule for our battle.”
”A rule?” Cianie frowned.
Kispe folded her hands primly. “Truthfully, our relations with the Demonkin aren’t what you’d call cordial. I’m worried they’ll snatch you away before we’re finished.”
”You don’t have to worry,” Cianie said flatly. “I’ll turn every last one of them to ash.”
”Oh my. Terrifying,” Viola whispered, half-laughing. “Seriously though, how do you make a threat sound that real just with words?”
Viola’s chatter bounced uselessly off the air between them.
Unlike the vampire, Kispe’s calm never faltered. That—more than her words—unnerved Cianie.
”You clearly have the power to back your confidence,” Kispe went on. “But war is unpredictable. I’d rather not drag it out. Let’s end this quickly—with a decisive duel.”
”That suits me fine,” Cianie said. “How do you want to settle it?”
She stayed on guard, voice steady. There would be no tricks, no trust.
”Tonight, we’ll strike first,” Kispe said. “The outcome of that attack will decide everything between us.”
Cianie narrowed her eyes. “That’s bold. What are you planning?”
”I told you—I don’t wish to destroy you, Hero. I only want you. This war exists to claim you. That’s all this agreement ensures—that once the fight is done, you’ll belong to me.”
Cianie bit back a retort. You start a war, then say that? Pointless.
She’d already decided. She would kill her.
”Fine. Works for me,” she said coldly. “If I win, I’ll tear you open and leave what’s left on the ground.”
”Yikes,” Viola muttered, raising both hands. “Scary, scary.”
Cianie ignored her entirely.
”My, such charming threats,” Kispe said, eyes sparkling. “Then it’s decided. The loser submits to the winner. If you win, you may do whatever you like with me—my body included.”
She said it like proposing a weekend trip, voice light and teasing.
Cianie’s brow furrowed. She actually thinks she can win.
A cool breeze swept between them, ruffling their clothes.
Neither moved.
Cianie knew her own power. She knew she wasn’t normal.
So why did this woman look so sure?
Maybe it was Klock’s influence.
He’d always been her measure of reason. Even now, his voice lingered in her thoughts.
He used to be so serious—sharp beyond his years.
He’d changed over the last fifteen, but that trace of his old self still guided her.
Klock would question this, she thought. He’d suspect a trap.
”Something wrong?” Kispe asked.
”Why the sudden change of heart?” Cianie said. “You’re a serpent—sly and shameless. The kind who strikes when others drop their guard. So why propose a fair fight now?”
Kispe’s lips curved.
There it is, Cianie thought. A trap.
”Because,” Kispe said lightly, “they’ll be moving soon. I’d rather book your attention before they do. I’d hate for another army to steal the Hero I’ve set my eyes on.”
”…’They’?” Cianie asked.
Kispe tilted her head. “Haven’t you noticed? There’s an army camped west of this town.”
Cianie’s gaze shot upward.
She sensed nothing—no movement, no presence.
”They’re Beast Demons,” Kispe continued. “They pride themselves on speed. Their camp’s far enough that even you couldn’t detect them. They plan to launch a surprise attack on this city tonight.”
”…You’re lying.”
But she wasn’t.
Cianie’s eyes could read truth, and Kispe spoke none.
”I assure you, it’s true,” Kispe said. “My scouts have been tracking the Majin host. They’ll strike Orrid and Conro at the same time.”
”Orrid—and Conro?” Cianie repeated.
Information hit like a blade.
Two fronts. Two assaults. And now—this offer.
”Don’t toy with me,” she said, voice low. “If what you’re saying is real, then this isn’t some duel. You’re trying to distract me while they crush Orrid and Conro.”
”Don’t misunderstand,” Kispe said, smiling faintly. “Those armies are both my allies and my enemies. Honestly, I’d prefer they fail. My target is you alone, Hero.”
”You—”
Cianie moved before the word finished.
One step, one turn of the blade.
From downward swing to diagonal slash, it happened faster than a blink.
A moment of pure killing intent.
She struck to end Kispe’s life.
”Ghh—!”
But Kispe only giggled, unharmed. “My, how fierce. But it’s useless, dear. No matter how sharp your sword, we cannot die. You’d be wiser to return and plan your next move properly.”
Cianie froze mid-stance. She’d cut her. She was certain of it.
Yet nothing had happened.
So that’s it, she thought.
She didn’t know what exactly occurred—but she could feel it: the magic flow had been rewritten.
The girl standing behind Kispe, that faintly glowing Flower Human—no, a succubus disguised as one—had undone reality itself.
A Unique Skill, Cianie realized. She erased my attack as if it never happened.
Her voice dropped to a growl. “I’ll kill every last succubus. All of you.”
She turned on her heel. No glance for Kispe, none for Viola.
Retreat—temporary, not defeat.
For a heartbeat she hesitated. Maybe I should finish it now.
But the woman behind Kispe made that impossible. This ability had to be countered first.
That was why Kispe showed herself so confidently.
”Do remember,” Kispe called sweetly, “the loser must obey the winner.”
Cianie clenched her jaw and vanished in a burst of light—teleportation.
As she disappeared, Kispe waved as though seeing off a dear friend.
* * *
”Ms. Viola,” Kispe said softly, “do you know what becomes of a human soul?”
”Huh? Soul?”
It was moments after Cianie’s departure. Viola tilted her head, puzzled.
”A soul,” Kispe continued, “is filtered through the Abyss. There, memories are washed away, like dust rinsed from glass. Once purified, the soul is placed gently within the petals of a red spider lily. Souls are flowers, and they are stars. And the one who plucks them… is Lady Teekua.”
Viola blinked. “Uh-huh. So what does that mean?”
”The flower given to her—its star is the sun,” Kispe said. “This generation’s Hero stands opposite of me.”
”Ohhh, makes sense. Sun against the night—total enemy vibe. Wait, you figured out her Skill without her even using it?”
”She did use it. She cast truth upon us a moment ago. I felt it—kneeling before a King’s judgment. Terrifying.”
Kispe looked up.
The moon hung half-hidden behind drifting clouds, its light falling across her face like a private blessing.
”Chosen Ones are exceptional,” she murmured. “They can wield more than one Stellar Skill. Goddess Teekua herself once granted two flowers to a single soul. But there’s no need to fear. We’ve found the location of her dream.”
She raised her hand—the same one Cianie had slapped earlier—and wiggled her fingers playfully.
”The sun never knows the night. Nor can it meet the one who waits there. She lives forever beneath daylight, unable to reach the lover who sleeps in darkness.”
”Creepy way to put it,” Viola muttered. “You’re scary sometimes, KisKis. Maybe the Hero would’ve respected you more if she realized how dangerous you are.”
”She is truly invincible,” Kispe replied, almost wistfully. “I met her knowing that. Her strength is real—but humans are creatures of sight. If they can’t see the blade at their throat, they think they’re safe.”
She turned her gaze back to Viola. “Now then, Ms. Viola. Proceed as arranged.”
”Got it. See ya.”
Viola pivoted and stepped into a nearby puddle. The water swallowed her whole, leaving the square empty—save for Kispe and the Flower Human girl.
”Tonight, we strike,” Kispe said quietly. “Or rather—right now would be more accurate.”
She laughed softly.
* * *
A man who once ruled in splendor lays down his crown and departs with his sword.
Beneath a thatched roof, a girl in a white dress takes the prince’s hand and gazes through a window of mist.
The Flower Human sang—a melody as beautiful as it was wrong.
Each word carried a curse, weaving a bridge of endless nightmares.
Desire and regret flow into the red dream.
Lay down your sins, paint the world with forbidden wishes.
Set sail, and I’ll welcome you to the inn beneath heaven, in a chamber woven from dreams.
Activation—Stellar Skill Dream-Ferry of Illusions.
”Welcome,” whispered Kispe, “to our Crimson Spire.”
”—No…”
The first to sense the distortion was, of course, her.
Ordinarily, no one perceives a dream while inside it.
Only those on the edge of waking can know they’re asleep.
But this dream had no end—and no escape.
”Impossible…”
Cianie stood before a mirror. Her reflection stared back in shock.
She pinched her cheek—no change.
What she saw was unmistakably herself.
”…My old self.”
Cianie Hartmann—no, that wasn’t quite right.
She remembered now. Born a Hartmann bastard, adopted by the Croce family—her name had been taken from her.
The girl in the mirror was Sylvia Croce.
”Why… am I back in my past life?”
She could only stare in disbelief.
Cianie—Sylvia—was standing once more within the Croce Estate.
Her old face looked back at her.
Beyond the window lay her long-lost home.
”I can’t feel anything,” she whispered. “That’s not possible.”
Notes:
• Flavia – Younger Forestkin princess (132). Gentle yet resolute. Sent by Queen Isabella as marriage pledge to Klock, the Chain Binder, symbolizing the Void’s loyalty to the Goddess Teekua.
• Primlena – Orange-haired merfolk priestess, fierce yet elegant | First v8c3 | Sister of Sea General Primjune, subordinate to Primrity | Once captured and violated by Klock, now obsessed with reclaiming honor | Commands Obsidian Riders on giant fish, fights with trident | Seeks to drag Klock to Seabed Temple for marriage trial or execution | Unique note: revenge-driven siren bride who masks fury under ritual grace
• Cianie – A noble girl with a fluffy white and light blue dress, indicating her high status. She has a hesitant and flustered personality but is kind and courteous. Her relationship with Klock begins as an accidental encounter and develops into a romantic interest. She has a fiancé but expresses feelings for Klock, complicating their relationship.
• Gina – A kind choir member who shows genuine concern for Adelina. She’s a rare ally in this unfamiliar place, offering some comfort and companionship.
• Orrid – Southern pleasure town near Conro, known for its chaos and vice. Serves as Brigante’s next destination and Count Grasso’s sphere of influence. Rumored den of spies and mercenaries.
• Goddess Teekua – The deity who saved Sylvia after her death and granted her rebirth as a hero.
• Sylvia – The hero who accuses Klock of abandoning her in her past life. She was reborn as Anna after dying in a fire and holds a grudge against Klock.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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