Chapter 2

Chapter 2

“Spring?”

Her thoughts froze as if she’d been struck.

Had the demon summoning, the sacrifice—all of it really just a dream? Or had she been unconscious until spring? Was this some kind of parallel universe from those trendy sci-fi novels?

Too many assumptions flooded her mind at once, causing a painful jumble.

But no matter how much she agonized alone in her room, she could understand nothing.

She needed more clues.

She had to find out what was really going on.

Without changing clothes, Rose dashed down to the second floor—the lounge and dining area of the boarding house.

As soon as she threw open the door, her eyes fell on two young women eating breakfast and a warm-faced middle-aged woman.

They were the boarding house residents, sisters Catherine Jones and Caroline Jones, and the owner, Mrs. Brown.

Rose immediately ran to Catherine and threw her arms around her.

“Rose?”

She couldn’t believe she could hear that gentle, kind voice again.

Catherine was alive.

Catherine was really alive.

She must be seeing a hallucination spell.

Even though it couldn’t be real, Rose prayed desperately that it was.

“Rose, what’s gotten into you all of a sudden?”

Catherine gently patted the back of Rose’s hand.

Seeing Rose cling to her like a child, Caroline, Catherine’s younger sister, snapped.

“Sister, Rose isn’t a child. And how can she wander around in pajamas? A lady should be more proper.”

“Caroline, Rose must have her reasons. Isn’t that right?”

“Oh, if you’re going to be that soft, how are you going to deal with the wild monkeys at school?”

“They’re students, not monkeys, and this isn’t school anyway.”

Caroline’s blunt tone was just as usual, and Catherine’s soft voice felt so real.

Such a well-crafted illusion.

The more real it felt, the more Rose’s heart ached.

Last spring, Catherine had been killed by a robber in an alley.

“Oh my, Rose. Are you crying?”

“I’m not crying…”

“You’re not? With your nose all sniffly? Is something really wrong?”

Though it should have been annoying, Catherine kept soothing Rose.

“Now, stop it and come upstairs to wash your face, comb your hair, and change your clothes. Got it?”

At 22 years old, Catherine spoke to Rose as if comforting a five-year-old, but Rose didn’t mind the treatment at all.

Only after enduring Caroline and Mrs. Brown’s nagging did Rose finally let go of Catherine.

“Go change your clothes quickly.”

“Okay, Mrs. Brown.”

Less than an hour after waking, a storm of astonishing events swept through.

Mrs. Brown and the boarding sisters, Catherine and Caroline, were alive and well.

Rose was seeing a moment before the world’s end.

But if this were a hallucination spell, there should be a distinct magical wavelength visible.

“Rose?”

Walking down the hall, Rose suddenly stopped; Catherine tilted her head.

“Are you really okay?”

It was a valid concern.

Rose had burst into the lounge in her pajamas, suddenly hugged Catherine and cried, and now stood there dazed as if mentally lost.

“I’m fine.”

“Rose, is there anything I can help with?”

“Leave her alone, sister. She’s probably still drunk from last night.”

“Good heavens! Rose, you drank yesterday?”

“Think about how I looked last night. I probably drank straight from the bottle. You saw it too.”

Caroline casually said, spreading butter on a piece of bread.

Last night, what she’d witnessed of Rose had been a spectacle.

“Yesterday?”

Caroline’s words snapped Rose awake.

Just as Caroline tried to stuff the buttered bread into her mouth, a hand suddenly reached out and grabbed a newspaper from the table.

The hand belonged to Rose Taylor.

“Ah! I told you not to move without warning!”

But Rose simply shrugged at Caroline with an indifferent expression.

“You could’ve just asked for the paper! Sneaking your hand behind me while eating nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“…April 14th, 967?”

“Are you really listening to me right now?”

Caroline’s complaints, Catherine’s mediation, and Mrs. Brown’s yelling from the kitchen all faded from Rose’s ears.

Seeing the date with her eyes made her chest tighten and heart pound.

Every newspaper she looked at was dated April 14th, 967.

Scanning the headlines, familiar articles appeared:

[Romberton City Gazette]
Wednesday, April 14th, 967
Dautryche Company dominates the northeast railroad line.
From textiles to railroads, unstoppable progress.
Second murder in Romberton already this year.
Perpetrator unknown.
Stellia Palace gardens opened to the public.
Crowds flock for the flower viewing season.

Wait a minute.

April 14th, 967?

The still-wet ink smudged on Rose’s fingertips. This had to be a freshly delivered paper.

No one had accidentally left a past newspaper lying around.

“Caroline, what day is it today?”

“Don’t you see? April 14th.”

“What year is it?”

“Oh gosh, why so scary? It’s 967.”

Her answer made Rose’s face go rigid.

April 14th, 967—the day Catherine died.

‘The discolored artifact ring. No visible wavelength of a hallucination spell. The specific date from the past. Incredible realism…’

Repeatedly glancing between Catherine’s face and the paper, Rose’s mind suddenly went blank.

“There’s no way this is possible…”

Her mind scrambled to piece clues together, forming a hypothesis.

Before long, all her hypotheses converged on one conclusion.

Regression.

Going back in time.

‘Regression is the only conclusion that doesn’t contradict the facts.’

Going back through time with all her memories and experience?

Such a thing shouldn’t be theoretically possible.

And of all days, the day she regressed was April 14th, 967!

Her hand holding the paper was soaked with sweat; her heart pounded louder than before.

She glanced at the ring on her right index finger.

“Sigh, seriously…”

Rose let out an involuntary bitter laugh.

The magic contained in this ring was the legendary regression spell!

If she told Catherine, Caroline, and Mrs. Brown this, they’d probably worry she was sick.

No, they might call a doctor immediately.

Because in this world, magic simply doesn’t exist—at least, not to the common people. That’s just their common sense.

The humans of this world might seem like a single species, but in reality, they are divided into two groups.

The Muthos, the magicians who hide in the shadows and survive in secrecy.

And the Logos, the children of reason who revere science and call themselves “humans.”

Magic is considered something out of children’s fairy tales or mythology, but the Muthos secretly exist among the Logos.

And Rose Taylor?

She was a pureblood Muthos.

One who refused to be a Muthos and ran away from the magician’s world.

“Rose, what’s wrong? Is there a serious article in the paper?”

Catherine’s worried voice brought Rose back to her senses.

“Sorry. I was just lost in thought for a moment.”

Folding the newspaper neatly and placing it on the table, Rose gave a small smile.

But the tension still clung to her body, and the stiffness in her face was obvious to both Caroline and Catherine.

An awkward chill settled over the room.

As the two struggled with Rose’s unusual behavior, their rescuer appeared—Mrs. Brown from the kitchen.

“Miss Taylor, what will you have for breakfast?”

Rose hesitated for a moment, then spoke.

“Brandy…”

“I didn’t hear you. Say it louder!”

“A glass of brandy, please, Mrs. Brown.”

“What?”

She felt like she might need a drink first thing in the morning.