At the entrance of the garden, Mail paused and thought.

“Oh, so this is what it feels like to want to beat up your past self.”

Her pupils trembled, and a cold sweat broke out. Mail genuinely considered turning around and fleeing. Her toes twitched, eager to run.

Today was her second morning in the Empire. Unlike the previous day, Mail woke up feeling remarkably refreshed. Having not had a nightmare, her body felt light, as if she could fly.

She left her quarters, humming joyfully, ready to visit the garden. Yesterday, she had gone there seeking healing for her weary soul, but today, it was to share the joy of waking up feeling so refreshed. Mail skipped down the path, full of excitement.

But just as she arrived at the entrance of the garden, something came to mind.

“Fine. If it turns out to be true that His Majesty actually visits here often, then as an apology, I’ll do three forward rolls, spin in place ten times, and kneel on one knee while shouting loudly, ‘Only speak the truth, O God of Truth!!’ three times. If you want, I can raise both hands to the sky while I do it.”

“……”

And with that, Mail felt the overwhelming urge to escape the world.

‘Why did you do that? Why, me from yesterday morning, why did you say that?’

Tears of regret welled up in her eyes. But it was too late for regrets. The words had already been spoken, the promise made, and, with bad luck, that man might even be expecting it. Unless she could turn back time, there was no escape.

“Please, let me go back in time…”

Mail prayed for the kind of phenomenon she’d read about in fantasy novels. Of course, nothing of the sort happened.

After spending about ten minutes standing in place, indulging in a little escapism, Mail steeled herself.

‘Yes! This is just a little, no, actually a lot, no, in fact, it’s so embarrassing I’d rather jump into a river, but still! It’s not like I’ll die or the country will collapse! A hero can’t be broken by something like this!’

Mail reaffirmed her resolve and thought further.

‘And there’s no way that masked man will be here again today, right? Even if he is, not at this time, surely. Yesterday and the day before were just coincidences. He won’t be here today. At least not right now!’

He was there.

“You’ve arrived.”

In fact, it seemed he’d been waiting for her. Ugh, Mail despaired.

“I think I’ll be leaving now.”

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I think I came to the wrong place.”

A bold grin spread across the man’s face beneath his mask. The masked man—who was, in fact, Rohayden, hiding behind a magical mask—rose from where he had been watching a tree as soon as Mail entered the garden.

With his long legs, he moved swiftly, blocking the path Mail had been eyeing for her escape. Ack! Mail swallowed a scream.

“Please step aside. I don’t think it’s right for there to be forceful dynamics between a man and a woman.”

“This isn’t the right situation for that line. And we’re not exactly a typical man and woman, are we?”

“…Then what are we?”

Rohayden raised a finger and pointed at himself.

“Creditor.”

Then he pointed at Mail.

“Debtor.”

“……”

“I believe you owe me something, don’t you? No need for me to explain, right?”

“……”

Oh, dear. Mail was once again appealing to the god she had cursed.

“And just so you know, pretending you don’t remember won’t work. I remember everything in detail. If you want, I can repeat your exact words, word for word.”

“No need for that.”

Mail, now serious, gulped. There was no getting out of this. Judging by his demeanor, he seemed intent on making her follow through on what she had promised.

Mail thought to herself. Ugh, this persistent guy. I should’ve known when he tattled to the emperor about every little thing, even the marigold incident.

“I believe I said I’d start with a forward roll.”

“Three times.”

“Your memory is, uh… impressively accurate.”

“I have a knack for these things.”

“And you’re quite good at praising yourself.”

“I think we should get back to the main point, don’t you?”

That wasn’t a compliment, by the way, Mail muttered internally, pouting.

“And then… I said I’d spin around ten times on the spot.”

“And then?”

“On one knee, I’ll shout three times.”

“And don’t forget to raise both hands to the sky while you do it. Since I want it.”

“Excuse me, do you even know what mercy means?”

“Not at the moment.”

Rohayden grinned, as if he had been waiting for this moment. Though his expression was hidden by a mask, Mail felt she could vividly picture his smug face. ‘Ugh, so annoying!’

“And by the way, no installments.”

“No installments!”

Although, if it were possible, Mail would have preferred to split it up, but since he shut that down immediately, she had no choice.

‘Fine, let’s just get it over with all at once.’ Confronted with the inescapable reality, Mail once again steeled her resolve.

The actual act required more courage than she’d anticipated, but it wasn’t entirely impossible. Her green eyes shone with determination.

‘I can do this. Forward roll! Spin! Hands up and shout! Do it all in one go without hesitation! Quick and smooth, no dragging it out!’

“Lady Mail.”

“Don’t talk to me while I’m focusing.”

“I just wanted to hear your thoughts before you begin. How are you feeling right now?”

“Why do you even care?! I’m not telling you.”

“If you tell me, I’ll knock one forward roll off the total.”

‘Hah, now that’s tempting.’

Swayed by the reward, Mail confessed honestly.

“Back in my homeland, an assassin once told me that 30% of the requests they get are from people asking to kill their past selves. At the time, I didn’t understand what they meant, but now, I think I understand that feeling all too well.”

Mail was serious. She genuinely felt that way. She could suddenly relate to the people who wanted to erase their past selves.

While she was deep in thought, an odd sound suddenly came from beside her. Startled, Mail turned her head.

“…Excuse me?”

Rohayden was nearly doubled over with laughter.

Completely indifferent to the fact that he was on dirt, he pounded his fist on the ground, gasping for air between laughs. The odd noise was his desperate attempt to breathe through his laughter.

Mail was stunned, speechless, and growing more irritated.

‘What’s so funny? I’m being serious here, and he’s laughing? How dare he!’

“You laugh too easily.”

“No, it’s just… anyone would… Pffft.”

“Are your lungs failing or something?”

Mail clicked her tongue. She couldn’t help but think that someone who spent all day wandering around the garden must have a lot of air in their lungs, but no sense.

Oblivious to the sharp assessment he was receiving, Rohayden finally managed to calm down after laughing for a while longer, though his stomach hurt from it.

“Ah, I shouldn’t be laughing this much before the main event even starts.”

“How about I punch you a few times? That might make you less inclined to laugh.”

“Have you finished preparing yourself? I’m eager to see it.”

“…Let’s get this over with.”

“Oho.”

Rohayden, full of anticipation, settled into his spot to watch properly. He found a prime spot under the shade of a tree, looking every bit the prepared spectator. Mail was mildly surprised he hadn’t brought snacks.

After giving him a complex look, Mail took a deep breath. She had never imagined a day like this would come. But it was her own doing, and she had no one to blame but herself.

Facing this once-in-a-lifetime—hopefully, never to be repeated—moment of disgrace, Mail sent up a brief prayer.

‘Please, don’t let this humiliation be the death of me.’

‘In the future, let’s not dismiss any outlandish promises as a joke.’

After offering her prayer and reflecting on the lesson learned, she began tying up her skirt. If her dress fluttered during the rolls, it would be troublesome, so this was a necessary precaution.

Rohayden watched with great interest. For some reason, she seemed quite skilled at it.

A moment later, with her long hair braided tightly and her skirt secured, Mail got into position, her expression deadly serious.

“I’m going to start now.”

“…”

“I kindly ask you not to laugh or comment until I’ve finished everything. If you interrupt, I won’t have the courage to continue.”

“Understood.”

“Huuh.”

“Am I allowed to clap?”

“No!”

‘Go ahead and try. If you clap, I’ll roll right into you.’ Mail thought, sending him a sharp look before refocusing.

‘One go. Do it all in one go. Smooth as flowing water!’

“Haah!”

And so, the heroic forward roll began.

She rolled. Her form was stable.

She stood up and spun. She stumbled slightly but recovered, finishing without issue.

Then, she knelt on one knee and raised both hands. She hesitated briefly over which knee to kneel on, but her instincts took over.

Now, the final step—shouting three times.

“Only speak the truth, O God of Truth! Only speak the truth, O God of Truth! Oh, only speak the truth, O God of Truth!”

A few seconds later, Rohayden toppled over where he sat, laughing like a madman.

TL NOTE: More advanced chapter of this story is already up to the site. Visit dusk blossoms for more advanced chapters and stories