The Ko-fi goal has been reached! As promised, this novel from the request page is getting translated into English.
Chapter 2
Slowly, Kurtz opens his closed eyes.
A dimly lit alleyway between neatly arranged buildings.
An unpleasant odor wafting from a nearby sewer stream.
And then–
“–Looks like you’ve woken up.”
A dignified voice comes from above Kurtz’s head.
“I heard some ruckus and came to find you completely out of it.”
Silver-purple hair caresses his cheek.
Amethyst eyes peer into his face.
That voice and appearance, no matter how much time passes, he vividly remembers.
“It seems you were trying to protect some poor children, but for a child to take on several adults is not courageous, merely reckless.”
As if chastising Kurtz, she raises her eyebrows slightly as she speaks.
He still remembers that day from back then.
That day, Kurtz was being assaulted by adults in the slums.
A slum child was scavenging in their territory, and the adults were resorting to violence against the child. Kurtz tried to help but was overpowered and beaten down.
There was someone who saved Kurtz then.
“You…are…”
“Ah yes, I can see why you’d be wary of a stranger holding you.”
She calmly states her name with a resolute expression after asking in a hushed voice.
“–Artesia Eisenhud. That is my name.”
Yes, Artesia firmly stated her name with a smile.
The benefactor who saved Kurtz seventeen years ago.
The benefactor who taught the ignorant him many things.
And the benefactor he failed to save, causing her death due to his powerlessness.
But what is before his eyes is not a dream or illusion.
The soft sensation of hair touching his cheeks.
The voice he has replayed countless times in his mind.
The warmth conveyed from the arms embracing his body.
Realizing this was reality is precisely why–
“Lady Artesia…”
Calling out her name, Kurtz shed tears.
The face of his benefactor he thought he could never see again.
The voice of his benefactor he thought he could never hear again.
The warmth of his benefactor he thought he could never feel again.
The pent-up emotions from the ten years since losing her overflowed forth as tears.
Seeing Kurtz’s state, Artesia widened her eyes before smiling softly.
“The tension must have drained away and you feel relieved. The people who were beating you have been chased off, and I’ve given the other children healing artifacts to escape, so rest assured.”
She soothes the tearful Kurtz in a gentle voice.
She was the kindest person of all.
Not only did she save the beaten Kurtz, but she did not look down on the filthy slum dwellers, and extended her hand to treat Kurtz like any normal person.
“But as I said earlier, do not mistake courage for recklessness. Even if you managed to help the other children, if you die yourself, it would be meaningless.”
She was frank in her words.
Her speech had no deceit – she bluntly stated her dislikes, maintained her attitude regardless of who she faced, and carried herself with steadfast words and actions.
This is how she presented herself as the head of the Eisenhud Duchy.
That is precisely why Kurtz himself had greatly admired and revered her.
“Having the spirit to help others is admirable, but do not blindly try to save everyone. Consider yourself as well and strive for the wisest course of action.”
“Yes…I’m sorry, my lady.”
“Good. I like a child who listens well.”
Nodding at his reply, Artesia then set down the body she was holding.
“I used a healing artifact, but do you feel any lingering pain or discomfort?”
“No…I believe I’m quite alright.”
As he responded, Kurtz checked his own body.
His small, bruised and dirtied hands.
His high-pitched, unfamiliar voice.
His unaccustomed low line of vision.
His greatly altered circumstances from before.
And Artesia, already deceased, alive before his eyes.
From those circumstances, Kurtz became convinced of one fact:
That he had successfully performed the Regression to seventeen years in the past, as intended.
READ THE ORIGINAL TRANSLATION AT LOCALIZERMEERKAT.PAGES.DEV
“…You seem a bit dazed, but really, are you okay?”
“Um…yes.”
“Now no lying. Even if healed, you were unconscious, so if anything happens after I leave and it worsens, your life could be in danger.”
Saying so, Artesia pinches his cheeks.
“If anything happened to you after I saved you, I would never forgive myself…Since you can be examined for abnormalities at my estate, would you care to accompany me there?”
Those were the words also spoken in his previous life.
Nodding at her words, Kurtz accompanied her to the estate, an event that greatly changed his later life.
A servant of the Eisenhud Duchy.
Kurtz spent seven years by Artesia’s side as the head.
To others it may have seemed a short period.
Considering one’s lifespan, it was merely a brief time.
But the memories of those years with her were deeply etched into Kurtz.
The knowledge imparted from her, the words and behavior she demonstrated as the Duchy head.
Even after her passing, none of it ever faded.
Those seven years spent with her were irreplaceable, joyful times.
“I won’t insist you trust a stranger like me. So you decide for yourself.”
As if to dismiss Kurtz’s wariness, Artesia smiles faintly and extends her hand.
Taking that hand would allow him to walk the same life as before.
He could live those blissful seven years with Artesia again.
But–
“Thank you for your concern. But I really am alright.”
“…Surely you’re not being too cautious?”
“Yes. I want to quickly let the other children know I’m unharmed.”
Suppressing his memories and emotions, Kurtz forces a smile.
He cannot walk the same life as before.
For that would mean failing to change the future where Artesia dies.
“Thank you for saving me. I will never forget this debt of gratitude.”
“Ah…wait, your name is–“
Shaking off Artesia’s words urging him to stay, Kurtz dashes into the back alley.
He did not return to the past to repeat the same time period.
Kurtz now has a purpose he must fulfill, no matter what.
“…My name is Kurtz, age ten. Separated from my foster slum-dweller parent at around age five. Operating area is the northern slums of the Albusage, the Sacred Tree Empire capital. Post-Regression date is the 908th year of the Imperial calendar, April 8th, current time is around 2pm. Will move to the Clock Tower Plaza later to confirm the exact time–“
To save Artesia from her fated demise using the magic she left behind to Regress to the past.
That alone is his goal to live for, a path Kurtz spent the last life thoroughly researching.
Kurtz the person was and still is powerless.
No wealth, status, overwhelming military might, or exceptional abilities.
Which is why Kurtz spent ten years devising a way to save her.
Utilizing future knowledge and information, creating a new future where she survives–
“–I myself must become the new mastermind.”
Gazing upwards at the rundown building before him, he mutters those words.
A clear class divide exists among the Empire’s people.
The nobles, granted peerage for certain wealth or merits.
The commoners, with imperial citizenship and permanent work and housing.
And the slums, without permanent work or residence.
But even among the lowest class of slums, a hierarchy exists.
“–Looks like you lot got in trouble with our guys again, Kurtz?”
In an abandoned tavern in the northern slums,
a rowdy youth drinks with a brash demeanor at the center of the gathered.
“…My apologies, Grood. A familiar child was being beaten, so I thought I had to help and recklessly attacked without thinking.”
“Ahh no worries! You didn’t know the brat was scavenging in our turf and getting punished. And that lady who knocked our guys out was a noble too, right? So I can forgive you lot.”
The burly men guarding the youth silently nod.
Grood Rangis.
That was the name of the man overseeing the northern slums before them.
And Grood was originally a nobleman with a baronet peerage.
However, his father was convicted of a crime, stripping the family of their peerage. Unable to live as commoners, Grood ended up in the slums.
But it ultimately proved the best path for Grood.
“Well then…That settles that issue. Since you’re already here, why don’t I set you up with a job while you’re at it? I can hook you up with work perfectly suited for you.”
With a derisive grin, Grood speaks.
Using his former noble status, Grood maintained connections to other nobles, taking on their unsavory under-the-table jobs as a means to rise to the top of the slums hierarchy.
“Guys with a pretty face like you are popular with nobles, ya know. Just let ’em pamper you and you can make some nice pocket money!”
As Grood roared with laughter, his followers joined in with vulgar guffaws.
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