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Chapter 02: No One Said Regression Was a One-Seater

Episode 10

The illegal slave auction house on Libertad Island had emerged after the Empire banned the slave trade. Slave traders had protested, calling for the freedom to deal in human beings, but they could not go against the tide of the times, and ultimately had to leave the continent of Gracia, blessed by the gods.

The place they settled was Libertad Island, situated between the continents of Gracia and Verde. Ironically, the island—also famous as a beautiful tourist destination—bore a name meaning "freedom," yet slaves, sorted by their intended use, were secretly bought and sold there.

"Kid, you can't run away now, so just behave. If you're good, you might go to a rich noble, so why make things difficult?"

The man patted Adrian's head as he spoke. Someone stopped him.

"Hey, hey, I told you not to touch his face. If he gets marked up, his price drops."

"Who said I'm hitting him? I'm just teaching him his place. Right, kid? When an adult speaks to you, you should answer."

Adrian kept his lips pressed tight, glaring at the men. It was a strange experience to see before his eyes men he had already killed with his own hands. He took a breath and repeated what he had said before.

"I am the heir to the Grand Ducal House of Rephinard. If you don't release me this instant—"

"Yeah, yeah. And I'm actually His Imperial Majesty."

"Called himself 'the heir,' the madman. Where'd he sell his conscience?"

The men snickered among themselves as if it were the funniest thing. These were things Adrian had already experienced in his previous life. And he had a vague idea of what was about to happen next.

'I like the look in his eyes.'

That man, the one whose breath reeked every time he opened his mouth. The few remaining teeth visible between his vile, curling lips.

'I'll... I'll take this one.'

The man who had taught him swordsmanship—his master and his nemesis. The gladiator Idor, who had enabled Adrian to manifest sword aura, but at the same time had gifted him with intermittent seizures and a terrible insomnia.

Adrian had intended to cut him down the moment he manifested sword aura—so deep was his hatred. Yet in this life, he would have to meet that man again. But since he had already experienced it once, the time of suffering would be far shorter than in his previous life.

"Kid, you're lucky. If you behave yourself, you might end up with some kind-hearted noble lady and live the easy life."

"See those women and kids huddled over there? They're all headed to the mines. I hear no one who goes there lives past thirty."

The men weren't treating Adrian too harshly yet—a slave with exceptional looks could fetch a high price.

But Adrian had no intention of yielding to them, in this life or the last. The reason Idor had noticed him in his previous life was precisely because he had been beaten black and blue and still refused to cower.

"As if any noble lady buying slaves has a kind heart. If you're so fond of that idea, why don't you go sell yourself at the auction?"

Adrian sneered deliberately. The men looked at each other in disbelief, then narrowed their eyes.

"Hey, listen to this little bastard? He's getting uppity just because we're being nice..."

"I told you. Kids need to be hit to come to their senses."

"Hey, hey, just say you're sorry, quick. We're getting angry."

As the men's voices rose, one of them quickly tried to mediate. Naturally, Adrian had no intention of apologizing.

"You'd probably lick their boots in gratitude if someone took you as a slave. Why don't you sell off your parents first?"

"...What did you say?"

"Oh, my apologies. I suppose they're already dead."

Adrian said it with a face that showed not the slightest trace of remorse. It was only natural that the men's faces turned red and purple.

"You little..."

"Hey, hold on, hold on. I told you, he's expensive."

"As long as we don't hit his face, it's fine. Right?"

The man cracked his knuckles and growled. As he grabbed Adrian by the collar, the child's small body swayed.

"Let's see you beg to be put on the auction block."

A large hand rose above his head. Bracing for the coming pain, Adrian squeezed his eyes shut. Just then—

"Attack!"

A shout rang out, followed by screams. Adrian raised one eyebrow in surprise. This commotion had definitely not happened in his previous life.

"Damnit, who the hell—!"

"Forget it, just run!"

The men who had been about to strike Adrian scattered in panic. Those who had been sorting or beating the captives did the same. But none of them could escape completely.

"A-a divine beast! A divine beast has appeared!"

"It's Count Belando!"

'...Count Belando?'

At the cries mingled with screams and cheers, Adrian lifted his head. Amid the crumbling buildings, an eagle made of light was flying toward them, carrying a man on its back.

"Young Grand Duke!"

A familiar voice called out to him. The man landed in an instant, and as soon as his feet touched the ground, the eagle dissolved into light—then transformed into a wolf that chased after the fleeing slave traders.

"Aaagh! H-help... Aagh!"

The terrified slave traders collapsed and crawled on the ground. The knights who followed began binding them one by one. Those who had been about to be sold into slavery clasped their hands together as if in prayer.

"Oh, gods."

"Thank you, thank you..."

"...Can you stand?"

Amid the chaos, Fabian extended his hand. In that moment, Adrian realized it.

'Leticia Belando...'

That woman. It was that woman who had reduced him to a five-year-old child. And not content with turning him into this pathetic state, she had even ruined his plan to meet Idor.

"You're safe now. For now, come to my manor."

Fabian Belando, knowing nothing, lifted him with that ever-kind face. Adrian unconsciously clenched his fist. How dare she. How dare she...

"...Young Grand Duke?"

Fabian looked at the boy in his arms with a puzzled expression. Adrian paid no heed to his gaze and ground his teeth.

Leticia. Leticia Belando. He would not let that woman get away with this.

---

If only I had possessed a six-year-old from the very beginning.

I was spending my days in utter happiness and peace. Wake up, get ready with the nanny's help, attend morning lessons, run around and play with Lucia and the other children, do homework or read.

The meals and snacks came out on time and were delicious, and the lessons were so easy they made me yawn. Today, my tutor, Sir Libro, had even called me a genius.

'To be doing three-digit multiplication at such a young age—Lady Leticia, are you perhaps a prodigy?'

Of course, Sir Libro was fundamentally generous with praise. Whether he was naturally like that or whether his standards had lowered because Leticia had been such a terror, I wasn't sure—but he was the type to be moved to tears if I just sat still during class or did my homework properly.

Anyway, aside from Branda occasionally looking at me with deeply wounded eyes, my days were as happy as could be. Marianne seemed the same—lately, she even hummed while brushing my hair.

"My lady, is there anything I can help you with?"

Marianne set down a glass of juice on my desk and asked. In less than a month, her complexion had brightened considerably, and she cared for me with genuine devotion.

If only she weren't a bit overbearing—she was truly the best nanny. She tried to stay by my side as much as possible, except during sleeping hours and class times, to keep Branda from approaching me.

"It's okay. After I finish my homework, can I go play in the annex?"

Of course, I cooperated with my nanny's efforts, and whenever I had free time, I went to the annex to play with Lucia and the other children. Hide and seek, tag, tree climbing, hammocks and swings, tea parties, changing perfectly good song lyrics to be about poop and boogers, drawing on the ground, ball games, watching ants... Sometimes the repetitive games were a bit tiring, but a six-year-old didn't have much else to do.

"Of course. You said you'd be tree-climbing today, so I'll have you change into comfortable clothes later."

Marianne stroked my head. I put down my book and hugged her waist. She let out a little "Oh my!" and playfully ruffled my hair.

"I thought you'd grown so mature lately, but you're still just a baby."

"Hee-hee."

I rubbed my head against Marianne's belly. Her clear laughter, her gentle hands, her warm embrace—having a dependable adult to rely on already made my regression a success.

Knock, knock. At the sound, I looked up. After giving my head one more pat, Marianne turned to open the door. Standing there was the head butler.

"Congratulations, my lady. The Count has routed the slave traders on Libertad Island and rescued the young Grand Duke Rephinard."

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