The first thing Dalton felt was a searing sting in his neck.
He remembered killing himself. Adrian had tried to heal him—only to condemn him to something worse than death.
But it seemed that had failed.
Dalton was dead.
And yet, the notification appeared:
[The God of Time looks with disappointment at His desperate avatar.]
[The God of Time has decided to strip His avatar of privileges and seek a new one.]
[You have been chosen as the new avatar of the God of Time.]
[You now possess the Heavenly Gift "Regression" as the privilege of the Avatar of the God of Time.]
Huh?
[Warning! Dual avatar status has caused an unknown anomaly!]
[The God of Nightmares refuses to relinquish ownership of you as His avatar.]
[The God of Time insists on making you His new avatar!]
[The God of Nightmares proposes: a renewal of Gift into something that can evolve over time.]
[The God of Time proposes: granting the Gift "Regression," giving you an earlier starting point to grow stronger.]
[Which will you choose?]
That placed Dalton in a bizarre dilemma.
He didn't actually want [Regression]. If Adrian, after thousands of regressions, had only met dead ends, how could Dalton possibly succeed?
Yet remembering how powerless he had been before the Eternal Night, watching the people he loved die one by one… made him feel worse than trash.
Still… something didn't add up.
"If I only take the God of Nightmare's proposal, wouldn't I just stay dead? That'd be pointless."
"Can't I just… pick both?"
[Request accepted!]
"Hah?"
[Becoming the avatar of two gods simultaneously will cause existential and even personality dissociation. But that's not something you need to worry about right now.]
No, no, no. That sounded way more serious than it let on.
[Initiating Regression in 3… 2…]
Wait—
[…1… 0!]
[Regression complete!]
[Message from the God of Time: "Hopefully this one doesn't fail as well."]
***
Dalton woke up, staring at the dim glow of his ceiling lamp.
He blinked and looked around.
A cramped room unfit for a noble's child. A rickety wardrobe with half-broken doors, showing shabby clothes within. A dresser with a cracked mirror.
This was unmistakably his room at the mansion.
Which meant… the regression was real.
The God of Time had truly chosen him as His avatar!
But… what about the God of Nightmares?
Dalton immediately summoned his skill panel with a mental command.
[Misfortune Lv. 1]
Absorb debuffs from your surroundings and store them as charges. (Slots available: 0/3 charges)
The God of Nightmares still considered him an avatar.
And—just as the system panel had shown at the moment of his death—he really was the avatar of two gods at once!
No wonder a new notification appeared with a different panel color.
If [Misfortune] was displayed on a blue background, this one was tinted reddish.
[The God of Time has decided to innovate the Gift "Regression."]
[Regression (Revamp)]
Returning to the past is no longer random. Complete missions to set new checkpoints!
Active Missions:
– Learn the Becker family's secret martial art, Silhouette [Not Completed]
– Break off your engagement with Theresia Dahr [Not Completed]
– Pass the Soul Aptitude Trial [Not Completed]
(Tip: Mission order is not chronological. Avatars may complete any mission in any sequence—top, middle, or bottom.)
Dalton stared at the missions, overwhelmed.
Silhouette was something he had never even heard of in his 28 years as a member of the Becker family.
Breaking off an engagement with a rival clan's daughter was practically suicide.
The most feasible option seemed to be the Soul Aptitude Trial. But… wait. What age had he regressed to?
Dalton rose from bed and looked in the mirror. His body had grown a bit taller, but signs of puberty like an Adam's apple or faint beard were still absent.
The fact that he was still housed in this tiny room meant he was not yet old enough to enter the academy.
So… his age must be around 14.
The exact date was unclear, so he didn't know when the Soul Aptitude Trial would take place.
Nor when he was due to enter the academy.
Before the trial, he needed to prepare himself—to manifest a better birthmark.
His last birthmark had been nothing more than a fork. A joke, even among servants.
The Soul Aptitude Trial judged the potential of one's soul and manifested it as a spiritual weapon called a birthmark.
A birthmark was essential for fighting the Hollows. Which meant having a fork as one was equivalent to being defenseless.
But that could be changed.
By refining his aura and acquiring unique skills, he could broaden his soul's potential and manifest stronger birthmark.
Dalton considered diving straight into alchemy, as he had in his previous life.
But with his access restricted in the mansion? Nearly impossible—unless he dared to sneak around. Something he might just consider later.
For now, the most realistic option was to strengthen his aura—through physical training or martial arts.
But… Silhouette?
The name was still unfamiliar.
Knock! Knock!
"Young Master, have you wake up? I've brought your breakfast."
A girl's voice reached him—one Dalton knew all too well.
Milis Fahrenheit.
Dalton cleared his throat and called back, "Yes, I'm awake. Come in—the door isn't locked."
The knob turned carefully, and the door opened.
A black-haired girl in a maid outfit entered, her face unreadable.
Milis was his caretaker and personal maid. Only two years older than Dalton, she had said she'd begun working at ten.
Though she carried out her duties with professional poise despite her youth, Dalton remained wary as she pushed the breakfast cart into his room.
The memory of Milis once trying to kill him still sent shivers down his spine.
It had happened the day before his departure to the academy.
That attempt hadn't ended badly for him—thanks to his Becker blood granting him natural physical strength, enough to match her. Which, honestly, was embarrassing, since Milis was supposed to be just a servant girl.
Once he subdued her, and the mansion's "help" finally arrived far too late, Milis had bitten through her own tongue, killing herself before interrogation.
To this day, Dalton never learned who had sent her—or why.
"Are you feeling well?" Milis asked, scrutinizing him as if sensing his thoughts.
"Yep. Just a bit… dizzy."
"Shall I fetch some medicine?"
Dalton snorted inwardly. As if the Becker family would ever bother giving him anything effective.
Even if he bled out, he doubted anyone in this house would care. "No need, probably just lack of sleep." He brushed it off casually, hoping not to arouse suspicion.
Luckily, Milis didn't press.
She only nodded. "I also have a message from Lord Reginald Becker: he will return in a week."
Dalton stroked his chin. Reginald Becker—his father, the head of the Becker family.
His return could only mean one thing.
"He is eager to witness your Soul Aptitude Trial, twenty days from now."
Dalton clicked his tongue. "No need to sugarcoat it, Milis. I know he's coming for the trial—not to see me, but my sister."
His sister. His twin. The very one he had tried to warn about Adrian long ago, who ignored him… and later died a gruesome death.
Selyse Becker.