WeTried Translations

Translator: Joy

Editor: Joy

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ Damned Transmigration

Chapter 68

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Despair

For two years, the life of Elena Heinderga had been anything but proper.

Once, she had lived by a routine. Alone in this mansion, yes, but her days had a rhythm. She slept and woke at set hours. Then, when the solitude ended and she gained a housemate, that rhythm became a joy.

She had become devoted to the shared good mornings, the simple delight of breakfast together, returning from the Mage Tower to an evening meal and a conversation about nothing at all.

‘…’

Remembering was agony. The more she recalled, the deeper she sank.

Elena clutched at a handful of her dishevelled hair and groaned, forcing her head up from the sofa cushions.

A sliver of light pierced the gap in the curtains, a blade of unbearable brightness, but to the Elena of today, it brought only irritation.

‘I can’t stand it.’

There was no one left in this house to stride into the living room, throw them open, and begin to nag.

The past always came back.

In those days, she had lived with the curtains wide open, eager for the morning. The warmth of the light flooding the large windows had been a comfort. The breeze that drifted through had felt fresh, alive.

‘No.’

Throb.

The headache intensified. Elena bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut.

‘Don't think about the old days.’

She loathed how her own mind dredged up these things against her will.

“Don’t think, don’t think, don’t think…”

She clasped her aching head, repeating the words like a mantra.

The simple chant was surprisingly effective. After a moment, the pain receded, and the memories stopped clawing their way to the surface.

She just had to keep busy the mind that insisted on remembering. She had tried magic, tried to force unconsciousness, but spells that twisted the mind were fickle things, their side effects severe.

No matter how she delayed it, sleep always came. When she had to lie down and close her eyes, her mind would think as it pleased, dredging up despair.

Mornings were just as terrifying, as they brought about the realisation that she was awake, and that having woken, she would eventually have to sleep again.

“Don’t think…”

It had become her ritual. Only after murmuring it a dozen times did she feel her mind truly awaken.

She took another deep breath and opened her eyes.

With a flick of a finger towards the parted curtains, a spell formula bloomed in the air.

The now-redundant curtains swept open with a gesture. Outside, the sun was high in a brilliant sky, but the pane of glass no longer reflected the world.

Elena stared at it for a moment before flicking her finger again.

The darkness shimmered, and points of light glittered across its upper half, forming a rough approximation of a night sky.

Whoosh…

Only when soft lights flickered to life in the dim room did Elena let out a long sigh and push herself up from the sofa.

She had to do something, and thankfully, the tasks were right in front of her.

The carpet was stained dark with wine, as if someone had bled out on it. With a single gesture, the liquid lifted from the fibres in a thousand tiny droplets.

Pop, pop.

She evaporated the wine in mid-air, then cast another spell on the carpet, making it as clean as the day it was laid.

Next, the bottles scattered across the table.

She hadn’t always enjoyed drinking. It had started with a glass her master, Orca, had offered her. After that, she drank only on occasion. Still, she always kept a few bottles at home. Even if she didn’t touch them, their presence had lifted her spirits.

When her housemate was here…

“Don’t think.”

Elena muttered the words again, gathering the empty bottles with a wave of her hand.

She drank every day now because she had nothing to do when she got home and to distract her mind from its errant thoughts.

The idea of sleep was a torture.

There were spells to calm an unstable mind, but she had found that drinking was better, if only because it gave her something to do.

‘What a mess.’

The living room had been a wreck. When her housemate and Haryeong were here…

“Don’t think.”

The body of a high-circle mage was resistant to alcohol, but you could get drunk easily enough if you let yourself.

Elena loved that moment.

‘What… should I do today?’

There was nothing left.

‘Go out?’

Alone? Where? Elena didn’t have many friends. The only people in Rutlan she could call close were her master, Orca, and her senior, Lacey.

She didn’t feel like seeing them.

‘Alone…’

Perhaps she should just start drinking now, alone… She twisted a tangled strand of hair around her finger.

In the end, she decided: The Dersia Mage Tower.

‘Aren’t you overdoing it?’

That was what Lacey had said to her yesterday.

‘It’s good to work hard, but you seem so fragile right now. So, Elena, promise me. One day a week, you do nothing. Just relax. Alright?’

‘You’ve been at the tower for days. I’m not saying that’s wrong. When I’m focused, even the time it takes to go home feels like a waste. And it’s fine if you drink in your room. It’s not like you cause a scene.’

‘Still, go home today and get some proper rest. Run a hot bath, have a delicious dinner, and sleep well. Or… how about we have dinner together?’

Her words had been so considerate that Elena hadn’t refused.

Yesterday, they had gone to a restaurant Lacey liked, eaten together, had a few light drinks, and then she had come home.

‘I had a good time.’

‘Elena, don’t come to the tower tomorrow. Just rest. Got it?’

‘That’s because you don’t know me, senior.’

Doing nothing was the most agonising thing of all.

She snapped the strand of hair between her fingers and headed for the bathroom. After her bath, she used magic to dry her hair and skin, then gave her hair a cursory comb.

Snap, crackle.

The brittle strands broke with every pass.

She pushed the uncut fringe that fell over her face aside and stood before the mirror.

Hair that reached her thighs, skin as pale as a corpse, with dull, dark circles that bloomed under her eyes, body so thin her ribs showed.

Elena stared at her reflection and gave a hollow laugh.

“I look dead.”

She pulled on some clothes, threw a robe over them, and pulled the hood low.

Outside the mansion, the sun was brilliant, but Elena hated this season. She hated the summer that reminded her of two years ago.

It was well past noon, but mages kept their own time.

For her, it was morning. For another, it might be the middle of the night, a time to fight off sleep with stimulants. For yet another, it might be lunchtime.

The ground floor of the Mage Tower was where these disparate clocks converged, a place for talk and socialising.

“So…”

The chatter stopped abruptly.

Elena, who had just walked through the door, tilted her head.

The scene was both familiar and not. It wasn’t new for the other mages to watch her with wary eyes.

Ever since the name Mad Thunder had stuck, she had become a creature to be handled with care. But today was different.

“What is it?”

Normally she would have ignored them, but her mood was foul. Besides, this was excessive. To be chattering away one moment, only to clamp your mouth shut and shoot glances at her the second she walked in was rude.

Chewing on a bland, tasteless biscuit that passed for a meal, Elena scowled at the mages in the lounge.

“Were you talking about me? Why stop? Why are you all staring?”

Most of them were of a lower circle than her. Elena was no longer one of the youngest here; there was no need for formal speech. And while some were older, had joined the tower before her, she did not consider them her seniors.

Why should she, when the only thing they had on her was time?

“So you were talking about me. Instead of wasting your breath on that, you should be studying…”

“Don’t jump to conclusions.”

It was Arist who stood up from a table where several others were gathered.

“Oh, my. Arist, senior? Are you still here?”

Elena’s lips twisted into a smirk.

Arist Benharman was stuck at the Fourth Circle for years, unable to break through to the Fifth. She was no longer someone Elena needed to address with any respect, but she did it deliberately, knowing it made Arist’s blood boil.

“Every time I see you, senior, I’m truly amazed. Being shackled by the illusion of a talent you don’t possess, wasting away day by day… I could never do such a thing.”

Arist’s face contorted, clutching the lapels of her expensive, purple robe as she glared at Elena.

She was so perfectly maintained, with manicured nails, bright red lipstick, a full face of make-up, extravagant earrings, a necklace, a bracelet, rings… The sight of it all added fuel to Elena’s irritation.

“If you have no talent, you should at least put in the effort. Ah, I think I know why you haven’t returned to your family. You’re hoping to meet a man in Rutlan, aren’t you?”

“A man?”

The corner of Arist’s mouth twitched.

She crumpled the newspaper she was holding and threw it at Elena. But the paper never reached her, stopping dead in mid-air.

“What’s this? Are you looking for a fight?”

Elena’s voice was dangerously soft.

“Of course not. As if I could ever defeat the great Mad Thunder.”

Arist scoffed and pointed a finger, intending to magically unfurl the newspaper in front of Elena.

‘…’

She intended to, but the crumpled paper wouldn’t open. It remained frozen where it was.

Arist’s eyes wavered, pushing more of her soul power into her mana, but the suspended paper didn’t even twitch.

“What is it?” Elena asked, her smile twisting.

Arist gritted her teeth, sweat beading on her brow. While she concentrated with all her might, Elena’s expression remained one of bored amusement.

“There you go. A little effort.”

Only when a drop of sweat smudged Arist’s make-up did Elena release her hold.

The sudden release of tension sent Arist stumbling back with a gasp. While she didn’t fall, heat flooded her cheeks, forcing her ragged breathing under control and glaring at Elena.

“Curious what we were talking about?”

A sneer replaced the shame on her face.

Thinking of the expression she was about to see on Elena’s, the mortification she had just endured felt like a small price to pay.

“See for yourself.”

The crumpled newspaper slowly unfurled.

Elena stared at it, wondering what this was all about.

<The Orsia Family’s Sword Dragon Slays a Bishop of the Chaos Sect.>

The Sword Dragon of the Orsia Family? She’d never met him, but she’d heard plenty. They were from different worlds, but because they were the same age, the public often spoke of them in the same breath. Some even tried to pair them off.

It was nauseating.

“What on earth…”

She didn’t understand. Why was she being shown this?

“…is this?”

Her eyes scanned the article. Her face hardened.

<…the Sword Dragon fought the Bishop alongside the Young Leader of the Demonic Cult, Thunder Cloud, and Dark Blossom…>

<Thunder Cloud…gained attention during the sparring match in Rutlan…>

<Thunder Cloud’s real name is Yuri, and he is a known childhood friend of ‘Marigold’ Elena Heinderga…>

<…Orsia Family claims Thunder Cloud played a decisive role…the Sword Dragon has acknowledged him as a friend.>

<…friends since childhood with ‘Marigold’ Elena Heinderga, without a doubt the most famous young mage of recent times.>

<The emergence of the Sword Dragon, Thunder Cloud, and Marigold, all young masters of the same generation, signals an era of great upheaval…>

<Dark Blossom, mentioned alongside them, is Thunder Cloud’s companion. Before this, she was known as the bodyguard of Marigold.>

<An assassin from Salhomun…as a companion of Thunder Cloud, she will surely make a name for herself…>

<Currently, Thunder Cloud and Dark Blossom are staying with the Orsia Family…at the invitation of the Sword Dragon…the Sword Emperor has also sung the praises of the two…>

Elena didn’t see the part about the Demonic Cult. Her vision had tunnelled.

Crack!

A bolt of lightning flared in the air, turning the newspaper to black ash. Even then, the electricity did not vanish.

Crackle, crackle…!

An incandescent current seethed around the deathly pale Elena.

Ever since she’d reached the Fifth Circle, her emotions hadn’t caused her power to lash out. But now, they were a storm she could not control.

‘Should I go and find Yuri-nim?’

Haryeong’s words, from the day before she left.

‘Would you like to come with me to find him?’

‘Don’t think.’

Her own desperate wish mingled with the voice in her head, but the thoughts wouldn’t stop.

My lady.’

‘Will you not regret this?’

‘Perhaps Yuri-nim is also thinking that if Lady Elena comes to find him…’

‘Don’t think.’

Her head felt like it was being split open by a spike driven through her skull.

‘Don’t think.’

Elena clutched her hair, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried