A suffocating silence lingered in the dark dining room.
Only the faint clinking of tableware echoed through the quiet hall—until the dining room doors burst open.
A strikingly handsome man in a black uniform entered and took a seat at the neatly set dining table.
Then, he slowly pulled out the chair beside him and gently placed something on it.
His careful touch, as if handling a priceless treasure, drew puzzled gazes from everyone.
“Blake. What is that next to you?”
Duke Leblanc, who had been silently eating, narrowed his eyes and pointed at the teddy bear sitting neatly on the chair.
“It’s my comfort doll.”
“…Your what?”
“My. Com. Fort. Doll.”
The man repeated each syllable clearly, as if to confirm he hadn’t been misheard, and calmly resumed his meal.
Clang—
A knife fell onto the marble floor with a sharp metallic crash.
The duke, who had dropped it, bit his tongue in shock.
His expression clearly said he had just heard something he shouldn’t have.
And understandably so.
The worn-out teddy bear sitting beside Blake looked utterly out of place with his cold, sculpted appearance.
“Y-you… Have you finally gone mad from not being able to sleep?”
“On the contrary, I’m finally in my right mind.”
“Then why on earth did you bring that filthy doll—”
Blake’s claim of sanity held little credibility.
Everyone knew Blake Leblanc suffered from a curse that prevented him from sleeping, but even so, he was far too different from usual.
Blake was the strongest knight of the Kasdonia Empire.
In a nation plagued by constant war, his reputation—leading every battlefield to victory—grew day by day.
The Reaper of the battlefield.
The harbinger of death.
The commander of the blood-soaked army.
Every title attached to him was terrifying.
Countless knights revered him.
And yet now… a commander who brought a cute teddy bear to the dining table?
The grotesque mismatch left the duke speechless.
Beside him, a silver-haired boy spoke up.
“B-brother… Are you feeling unwell?”
“No, Aaron.”
“But… teddy bears like that are usually carried by trivial young ladies and gentlemen…”
At that, Blake’s gleaming violet eyes turned toward the doll.
He gently reached out, cupped its ear, and said,
“Do not speak carelessly about my teddy bear. It might get hurt.”
“Hic!”
Startled by the chilling gaze that looked ready to cut him down, Aaron quickly covered his mouth with both hands.
Afraid he might embarrass himself by hiccuping, he hurriedly drank some water.
“If… if you like teddy bears, brother, then I—I’ll buy the exact same one!”
Aaron, who revered Blake almost like a god, was completely devoted to him.
He tried to imitate everything Blake did.
But Blake shook his head.
“No. You can’t.”
“…Pardon?”
“This teddy bear cannot be obtained anywhere.”
A strange sense of pride appeared on his handsome face as he said that.
Of course, the teddy bear truly looked like something that couldn’t be bought anywhere—it was that worn and shabby.
The maid, who had been bringing a new knife for the duke, froze in fear.
What kind of horrifying combination was this?
Blake Leblanc… and a teddy bear.
This was exactly the kind of situation that would make people say he had finally gone insane from lack of sleep.
The duke couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“Blake. It seems your mind has deteriorated from sleeplessness. Go and get some rest.”
Seeing the maid’s shocked face, the duke tried to salvage the situation.
At the tone that clearly treated him like a patient, Blake frowned and set down his utensils.
“Why would I be unable to sleep?”
This boy… has truly gone mad.
The duke’s violet eyes scanned his son.
Deep concern filled his gaze.
The curse that plagued the Leblanc family did not affect only Blake.
The duke and Aaron also suffered from it—they could not sleep at all.
It was a curse passed down like punishment to the direct bloodline.
Naturally, their ancestors had spent vast fortunes trying to break it, but hardly anyone even knew anything about it.
The curse was destined to continue through this generation as well.
And yet—what?
Why couldn’t he sleep?
“Do not jest. I have no desire to speak about the curse.”
“Is that so?”
Blake replied briefly and tapped beneath his eye.
The duke’s gaze shifted—and froze.
Blake’s dark circles were gone.
The duke’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“Y-your dark circles…!”
The telltale sign of the Leblanc bloodline—those deeply fatigued eyes—had vanished.
Aaron, equally shocked, jumped from his seat and rushed over to inspect Blake’s face.
“B-brother… your dark circles are really gone! I—I wish mine would disappear too…”
His eyes sparkled with hope.
Unbothered, Blake adjusted the red ribbon tied around the teddy bear’s neck and spoke.
“This teddy bear is the only thing that lets me sleep.”
Clang—
The duke dropped his knife for the second time.
His jaw fell open.
They had struggled for so long to break the curse—and now he was saying he could sleep because of that teddy bear?
It was unbelievable.
Yet a faint thread of hope flickered in the duke’s eyes.
Blake might seem abnormal, but the brightness beneath his eyes was undeniable.
“I-is that true? Blake… let me see that teddy bear.”
The duke stood abruptly, his silver hair swaying, and reached for it.
Just as his hand was about to grab the bear—
A firm hand brushed his aside.
Blake picked up the worn brown teddy bear and held it tightly in his arms.
Then he rubbed his sharp nose affectionately against its head.
“No. Only I will touch this teddy bear.”
It was an absurdly childish thing to say for someone known as the commander of a blood-soaked army.
“…Brother?”
Aaron stepped back, unable to believe what he was seeing.
There was a strange obsession in Blake’s violet eyes.
The teddy bear in his arms seemed to wriggle slightly.
Holding it tighter, he whispered softly,
“That’s right… Vivian?”
“……”
And from within those arms, wriggling—
that would be me.
Staring at this lunatic, I screamed inwardly.
‘Let me go, you crazy bastard!’
But as if mocking my desperate cry—
his eyes had already gone completely mad.
December 31st, New Year’s Eve.
I was sipping wine and lamenting my situation.
How did I end up as a witch stuck in this desolate, sandstorm-swept western land?
When I first woke up here—
I instinctively realized this was one of those romance fantasy novels I’d read.
A familiar class system.
Nobles hosting extravagant parties.
Even dragons that looked straight out of fantasy.
But there was one problem.
‘Why am I a witch?’
Even extras usually get reincarnated as noble ladies or daughters of counts.
Even villains get involved with the male lead somehow.
‘Why am I the only one dumped in some non-human world like this?!’
Seriously, how common are witches in romance fantasy novels anyway?
At this point, either it was a hidden setting barely mentioned, or so insignificant I couldn’t even remember it.
“Ugh, whatever. It doesn’t matter anymore.”
I sighed and unfolded the moving newspaper said to be invented by the Eastern Witch.
Today’s headline was simple:
[Human World Special Report: Blake Leblanc, unstoppable force, saves the Kasdonia Empire once again!]
On the corner of the article praising Commander Blake Leblanc’s achievements, a ridiculously handsome man in uniform was moving as if alive.
‘Blake Leblanc?’
That name sounded familiar.
My eyes blinked slowly as I stared at the paper on this dull year-end day.
“He really is impressive.”
Max, my butler, who had appeared beside me unnoticed, glanced at the paper and commented.
“What is?”
“Blake Leblanc. Isn’t he remarkable for a human? They say he wiped out ten thousand enemy troops with just five hundred knights.”
“I guess.”
I replied half-heartedly and sipped my wine again.
Maybe because it was aged for centuries—it tasted incredible.
“The Leblanc family once offered many tributes to our Halloway Castle back when the portals still existed.”
“So that’s why you like them.”
“…Lady Vivian. You were the one who liked it the most back then.”
Was I? I don’t remember.
I really didn’t remember.
‘It’s all too long ago now.’
Portals.
Passageways connecting the human world and the realm of other races—home to witches and dragons, also called the Demon Realm.
They existed long ago, when humans, witches, and dragons coexisted.
But those portals disappeared 200 years ago.
Which means my age is now…
I slowly counted on my fingers—then froze as I reached ten and ran out.
“Wait, Max. Don’t tell me…”
“Don’t tell you what?”
“Am I already 300 years old?!”
“You’re only realizing that now? Honestly, I always thought you didn’t act your age.”
The one going crazy here is me, Max…
As I sat there in disbelief over the time that had flown by, Max continued chatting away, oblivious.
“But Lady Vivian, don’t you think the Eastern Witch’s information network is amazing? The portals have been gone for ages—how does she still get news from the human world?”
“No idea. Laura’s a weirdo.”
The Eastern Witch, Laura, was an eccentric obsessed with developing magical tools.
“Hearing that from someone addicted to romance novels is ironic. Do you know how many of those I’ve thrown away?”
“Do you remember how hard I worked to get them back?!”
It’s my only hobby carried over from my past life!
I glared at him resentfully, but he ignored me.
“Anyway, this Blake person seems quite famous in the human world. Last month’s newspapers were all about him. People are going crazy calling him romantic.”
“Romantic?”
The last sip of wine caught in my throat.
A sudden instinct told me this might be very interesting.
I whipped my head toward him as he continued casually:
“Didn’t you know? It’s a tragic love story—he went off to war to forget the young lady who was his childhood friend.”