I Proposed to My Childhood Friend After Regressing - Chapter 21

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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After Regression, I Proposed to My Childhood Friend
Chapter 21
Oh…
Beatrice stood motionless for a long moment, staring down at the note.
Only when her crouched legs began to tingle did she rise from her spot and quietly slide open a drawer.
Inside the drawer, just as the note had mentioned, lay a cloth doll dressed in a simple dress.
“If something strange happens, leave the doll and run? What kind of horror story is this?”
She was beginning to understand why that survivor had trembled incoherently before fainting.
‘I don’t know if the village that survivor visited is the same as this place, but they said there weren’t even any people there.’
She imagined it then.
In the dead of night, with only pale moonlight filtering through, despite not a whisper of wind, the curtains at the window begin to sway.
A chill wraps around her body, and she runs to the lobby with the doll in hand—but what if the person at the desk isn’t a person at all, but a doll?
‘God, that’s terrifying.’
Beatrice was certain she could scream right then and there from the fear.
It was then.
Along with the sensation of a strangely desolate wind brushing beneath her skirts…
—Knock, knock!
“Pardon me, are you asleep?”
“Eek!”
A woman’s thin voice came from beyond the door.
Pressed reflexively against the wall, Beatrice suddenly realized the voice was familiar.
Gathering her courage, she approached the door and, gripping the handle, asked the visitor:
“W-who is it…?”
“You’re still awake—how fortunate. I’m Astrid Sharon. If you don’t mind, may I step into your room for a moment?”
“Oh. Yes, of course!”
Whew, that really startled me.
As Beatrice composed herself and opened the door, the Sharon advisor, now dressed in more comfortable attire, offered a light greeting.
“Good evening, Beatrice. It’s strange—this is the first time I’ve greeted you this way. I apologize for arriving so abruptly.”
“Oh, no—not at all! Please, come in!”
“Thank you.”
“Would you like some tea?”
“Your kindness is deeply appreciated, but there’s something I’d like to discuss rather urgently.”
Astrid gently declined Beatrice’s offer and straightforwardly handed her a sheet of paper.
Beatrice had no trouble identifying it.
“That’s the paper with the warnings, isn’t it? The one that came through the door gap.”
“Correct. It appears you’ve received one as well.”
The woman paused, regarding the paper still lying on the floor, and opened her mouth with an uncertain expression.
“To be frank from the start, I don’t fully understand the situation myself, but…”
As Beatrice had told Claude, such dolls were not a custom of the Marquessate.
“The Marquessate has never controlled access in this manner before. Not once.”
The terrain and soil of the Marquessate were not suited to producing food independently.
Controlling access would actually create difficulties for the Marquessate itself.
“The Marquess House entrusted trading operations to us in the Sharon Earl House, and our first directive is to ensure supplies never run dry…”
As she spoke, Astrid produced another letter.
“This is the last letter I received from my father.”
“May I read it?”
“Of course. I brought it for you to see. Everyone in our house has already read it.”
The letter, carefully unfolded, contained a plea not to return to the Marquessate for some time.
Due to a plague of unknown origin coinciding with famine, it urged her to remain safe in the Capital.
“As I was worried about the Marquessate’s situation and considering whether to ignore my father’s words, Dalton opportunely proposed to the Crown Prince that supporting the Western Border Region, centered on the Marquessate, might be worthwhile, along with Alec.”
“Ah, so…”
“Yes. Along with this letter, I expressed that the matter seemed serious and agreed to the support. With my own preparations included.”
That explained why there were more healers visible in the rear!
‘I thought the Empress prepared them after hearing my account, but it was Astrid’s suggestion.’
Thinking that far, Claude’s face briefly surfaced in Beatrice’s mind.
She found herself curious about how much of this was Claude’s design and where the unexpected variables began.
‘Did Claude anticipate even this—entering the Marquessate with so few people?’
But if that were the case, why bring in Alec and the Crown Prince at all?
The more she thought, the more her chest roiled like watching a complex chessboard come into focus.
Beatrice abandoned any attempt to calculate and resolved to focus on Astrid.
“So, um, Astrid…”
“Ah, please just call me Astrid. I prefer the informality.”
“Right. Astrid. So, setting aside the doll—did these strange phenomena described here never occur before?”
“Well…”
Why isn’t she just denying it outright!
Beatrice’s pupils trembled slightly as she watched Astrid’s expression shift into contemplation.
“Could it be… ghosts…?”
“Oh, I apologize.”
Seeing Beatrice’s frightened state, Astrid smiled wryly and spoke again.
“It’s actually quite the opposite—rather childish, really. That’s why I hesitated to mention it. All the children of the Marquessate grow up hearing Fairy Legends.”
“Fairy Legends?”
“Yes. Windows opening by themselves without wind, whistling sounds heard while sleeping—these are signs of fairies visiting. Some children have even seen small, indistinct shapes passing through door gaps.”
“…”
“You’re looking at me as though you’re thinking ‘isn’t that a Spiritual Phenomenon?’ but there’s one crucial difference between the two: ‘whether the phenomenon causes harm or inspires fear.'”
In other words, when similar events had occurred in the Marquessate in the past, no one had ever perceived them as threatening.
‘Hmm…’
The note, the doll, and the Fairy Legends Astrid had mentioned.
As Beatrice laid out these varied pieces of information, struggling to find the elusive connection, it happened.
The candle burning brightly between them suddenly went out with a whoosh.
“…Ah!”
“Beatrice, to be safe, let me hold your hand.”
Scarcely had Beatrice hesitated in the sudden darkness when Astrid extended her hand, drawing her close.
It was to protect her should any threat emerge.
Her racing heart began to settle at the warmth of their clasped hands—but only briefly.
The cool, damp sensation she’d felt moments before began to creep across her skin once more.
Astrid felt it too; she tightened her grip slightly on Beatrice’s hand.
“Beatrice, this really is…”
“Yes. It seems so.”
As the oppressive air grew heavier and her body felt squeezed, her resolve crystallized.
Beatrice quickly retrieved both the doll from the drawer and the one from the gate, placing them both on the floor.
Then, with Astrid, she exited the room.
It was precisely the response the note had instructed. Except for one thing.
“Beatrice?”
“Shh. Let’s wait just a moment.”
Rather than moving to the Lobby as the note had directed, she chose to wait in the Hallway instead.
—Screech! Crash!
—Bang!
Beatrice grasped the door handle and listened intently to the sounds coming from within.
The moment the subtle vibration she’d felt through the handle completely ceased, she opened the door again.
“What in the world…”
“…”
Leaving Astrid to her bewilderment, Beatrice took in every detail of the room’s state.
More precisely: the dolls, their forms grotesquely warped, crumpled, and torn, and the wooden furniture scattered about as if struck by impact.
As she observed the Heart-Shaped Stone found within the torn doll and the devastation wrought across the room by merciless force, Beatrice blinked.
‘I think… I know what this is.’
Rarely, but Beatrice had witnessed a scene similar to this in her father Jedrik’s study.
She’d even seen it once in her own study.
‘This is Mana Collision, isn’t it?’
That was exactly what it felt like.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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