**Chapter 1**
—
It had been a strange life.
So strange, in fact, that even if I could go back and change it, I wouldn’t know where to start.
I was born the sole heir of a ducal house—only to be robbed of everything by those beneath me and ultimately cast out.
A noble expelled from his family doesn’t have many options.
Among them, the most dignified was, of course, suicide.
To preserve one’s noble pride, one ought to take their own life.
But I was too much of a fool to even do that. I just wandered the continent aimlessly.
Then, by pure chance, I awakened the bloodline ability of the ducal family.
A grotesque power—the ability to absorb the talents of others.
Thanks to that, I managed to recover my body, which had been worn down by years of wandering. But the side effect was… a mind that no longer functioned like others’.
In other words, I went insane.
I started muttering to myself, my way of speaking became strange—it was clear I’d gone mad.
The incurable illness that had tormented me for so long disappeared, but I couldn’t return to my family like that. Not as a lunatic.
So I decided to keep wandering.
And it was during one of those endless, aimless travels across the continent that I happened to hear a rumor.
About my family.
The House of Bayern had been annihilated.
I rushed back to confirm the truth of that rumor.
But there was nothing left to confirm.
My little sister was nowhere to be seen, and my mother had become a cold corpse.
Everything—the family, the estate—had fallen into the hands of those who killed her.
Driven even deeper into madness by that grim reality, I picked up the blade of revenge.
Fortunately, thanks to the power in my bloodline, I managed to achieve something meaningful.
I severed the heads of several of the men responsible for the fall of the ducal house.
But I failed to kill the true masterminds—the ones who exiled me and destroyed my family.
Instead, I was dying by their blades.
“So pitiful… even to the end.”
I chuckled to myself.
After I went mad, I would sometimes laugh uncontrollably.
“I just… wanted to at least kill the ones who did that to my mother and sister… before I died.”
Clicking my tongue, I lifted my head.
The rain was falling from the sky.
I looked up at the overcast heavens and muttered,
“If I was going to die anyway… wouldn’t it have been better to die with them, God?”
But instead of an answer to that prayer-like question, what came was a gush of blood from my chest.
“…Ah.”
Then came another wave of pain.
I couldn’t withstand the growing heaviness of my eyelids.
Eventually, I blacked out completely.
Just like that—I thought I had died.
*Just a week ago.*
—
—
—
Arthur looked down at his body and thought to himself:
‘I’ve gone back in time.’
A week ago, Arthur Bayern, age thirty, became Arthur Bayern, age fifteen.
The proof was right before his eyes—not the scar-covered body of a thirty-year-old, but the thin frame of a boy who hadn’t even finished growing.
But it wasn’t just his body that had become younger.
“Wow… my mind’s clear again?”
The world, which had been stained crimson ever since he lost his sanity, had regained its colors.
In pure disbelief, Arthur muttered,
“My madness… it’s gone?”
The madness that no healer could cure?
That’s when Arthur was convinced—he had truly returned to the past.
‘The only way for a madman to regain his sanity is to be reborn.’
The problem was figuring out *how* he’d returned.
Just as he was sinking deep into thought again, a familiar voice came from beyond the door.
“Young master.”
It was the butler, Sebastian.
“It’s time for your medicine.”
Still a bit dazed, Arthur responded with a stammer.
Because, back then, he had a stutter.
“Y-yeah…”
“…Understood. How are you feeling today, young master?”
Sebastian, somehow deciphering the slurred words, set down a teacup and asked gently.
Arthur stammered again in reply.
“F-feeling g-good…”
“That’s a relief. Will you be taking the medicine now?”
“I’ll… take it l-later… after the checkup…”
Sebastian gave a small nod.
“Please don’t forget. That medicine was very difficult to obtain—for your illness.”
Arthur nodded back.
“O-okay…”
With that, Sebastian left the room.
After confirming the butler’s footsteps had faded, Arthur turned his gaze to the medicine left behind.
“Hm…”
It looked perfectly ordinary—just like it had in the past.
‘This was supposed to cure the mysterious illness that made me stutter.’
But now, with the knowledge he’d gained in the future, he knew the truth.
The medicine wasn’t a cure. It was poison—something that worsened his condition.
And so, Arthur picked it up and crushed it beneath his foot.
*Crack!*
The powdered remains of the pill scattered across the room.
Arthur watched the dust settle as he stroked his chin.
“Sebastian, huh. Whether past or present, you’re exactly the same. Still bringing me poison…”
Then again, it wasn’t too surprising, given his true identity.
He was the most loyal spy of Dormund—the very faction that led the destruction of House Bayern.
‘And Dormund answered to the one who ordered Bayern’s destruction—the Second Prince, Khan Madrid.’
Back then, the naive version of himself didn’t know that. He took the traitor’s pills every day, and ended up a stammering fool.
Of course, now that he wasn’t taking the poison, he didn’t stutter anymore—but that didn’t mean the danger was over.
Sebastian still brought the poison and checked his condition daily.
It was only a matter of time before he realized Arthur wasn’t taking it.
‘Which means… I have to get rid of Sebastian before that happens. But how?’
Should he kill him right now?
Arthur flinched at the thought.
“No… I can’t act like I did in the past.”
Back then, he was insane. He didn’t hesitate to butcher the enemies who destroyed his family.
But not anymore.
‘I’m sane now. There’s no need for that.’
There was no point in making a scene. The best option was to quietly cut his throat, or find a smarter way to get rid of him.
‘I’m no longer a madman. I should carry out my revenge like a proper man. No more reckless sword-swinging.’
That was when Sebastian’s voice rang out again.
“Young master, you have a visitor. It’s the third son of Count Dormund.”
Arthur, deep in thought, twitched.
“Bill Dormund… came here?”
—
—
—
Bill Dormund, the third son of Count Dormund.
He was one of the enemies Arthur had failed to kill in his previous life.
‘I should’ve killed him first, but I didn’t.’
Compared to the other sons of noble houses, Bill wasn’t all that capable. But he was sly and quick to read the room.
The moment rumors began spreading that Arthur was out for revenge, Bill disappeared first.
‘Then he showed up just before I died—just to mock me. That smug face… I still remember it.’
Arthur vividly recalled Bill’s mocking smile as he stood behind his older brothers.
And now, that very bastard had come walking into his room.
“Hey, mute.”
With the same face and expression Arthur remembered.
Arthur’s expression twisted.
‘Is this… a chance? Or a trap?’
The enemy he’d searched so desperately for had appeared before him—but it wasn’t so simple to just kill him.
Hadn’t he just vowed to stop acting on impulse?
If he killed Bill now, he’d be no different from the madman of the past.
‘But I can’t just let him go either.’
As Arthur debated, Bill sneered and opened his mouth.
“Where’s your little sister? I came to see that bitch, but she’s nowhere. Did you hide her, mute?”
That snapped Arthur out of it.
‘Hah. Haven’t heard “mute” in a while.’
He wasn’t truly mute—just a stutterer. But people like Bill used the insult intentionally.
Arthur didn’t particularly mind.
It wasn’t just Bill—everyone who looked down on him in the past called him that.
‘They said “The Stammering Prince” didn’t sound right—so they called me “The Mute Prince.”’
So that sort of mockery didn’t bother him anymore.
But Irene… his little sister… that was different.
‘Why bring up Irene?’
The reason Arthur wanted to kill Bill in the first place… was because of Irene.
Before the fall of House Bayern, Bill had always ogled her—and on the day the family was destroyed, he forced her into an engagement.
Five years passed.
And Irene took her own life.
‘Whether it was suicide or a result of his beatings, I don’t know… But rumor had it she was tossed onto the streets, bleeding.’
That’s why Arthur had vowed to kill Bill.
‘Even when I was mad, I never touched the families of my enemies. But this bastard… he crossed that line.’
And now, in this second chance at life—Bill Dormund had brought up Irene again.
As if Arthur didn’t already have enough reason to kill him.
‘…Should I just do it?’
As his mind tilted toward violence, a clever idea flickered through his thoughts.
“Oh… right.”
“…Huh?”
“If I can’t kill you, then giving you an injury that won’t kill *you* is an option, isn’t it? Much easier to clean up afterward.”
Arthur muttered, and Bill flinched.
“You—why aren’t you stuttering…?!”
Before he could finish, Arthur lashed out with a sudden kick to Bill’s foot.
Bill collapsed with a thud.
“…?!”
Stunned, he struggled—but it was too late.
Arthur was already on top of him, pinning him down.
“W-what are you—?!”
Bill shouted in alarm.
Arthur leaned down.
And in a flat, emotionless voice, he whispered into Bill’s ear:
“From now on, I’m going to gouge out your right eye, Bill. I do hope you bear with it.”
—
