Claude von Einhart possessed memories of a past life.
The recollection struck at the worst possible moment—right as he was about to strike a maid younger than himself.
Suddenly, memories of someone else—no, my own memories from a previous life—surged within my mind. The sensation of two distinct lives clashing and attempting to merge was so nauseating I wanted to die. I doubled over and groaned.
It took a few minutes for the nausea to recede.
Perhaps because the mental collision had been so violent, only a handful of memories from my previous life remained.
Yet, precisely because they were so few, the things I did remember must have been of paramount importance to my former self.
I could recall only two things with any clarity.
First, that I had held a job dedicated to upholding social justice.
And second... that I had failed to reach out my hand when it mattered most.
Ah, that explains it. That was why these memories resurfaced now.
The servant Claude had been on the verge of hitting bore a faint resemblance to the person I had failed to save.
Claude von Einhart was a wretched human being.
As the heir to House Einhart, he had abused his authority to oppress everyone beneath him. He viewed commoners as inferior lifeforms and treated lower-ranking nobles with open contempt. He genuinely believed his servants existed solely to serve as punching bags for his stress.
He was a noble of irredeemable arrogance and insolence. My only saving grace was that I could finally recognize that fact—because until this very moment, I hadn't felt the slightest bit of guilt about my behavior.
Now that I possessed a sense of common decency, I had to change.
I was supposed to have died of old age. I think I lived until my seventies... didn't I? Wait, why do my memories stop around the age of thirty?
Whatever. Thirty years is more than enough time to acquire a functioning moral compass.
I stood up and took a deep breath. Chesa, the short-haired servant standing before me, watched me with sheer terror, tears pooling in her eyes.
"A-Aren't you... going to hit me?" she stammered.
You absolute scumbag, Claude!
What kind of life do you have to lead to make a young girl this afraid of you?
"I'm not hitting you."
"Huh!?"
Could you not look so shocked? It's making my heart ache...
I reflexively averted my gaze, catching my reflection in the window glass. I saw a slender young man with long, dark blue hair. My most prominent features were undoubtedly my eyes—they were sharp, predatory. I had the face of a textbook villain. I was fifteen this year, right? Even for a rotten noble, I had a certain presence; I didn't look like a child at all.
Being glared at by a guy like this must be terrifying.
I truly have been a monster.
"Chesa."
"Y-Yes, sir!"
"My conduct until now has been unbecoming of a nobleman. I am deeply sorry."
Chesa clutched her chest, her eyes widening in shock.
The values of the current Claude flickered through my mind. Even for a kind-hearted noble, bowing to a servant was unheard of. Nevertheless, I felt I owed her at least that much.
"I intend to change my ways from this day forward. I'm sorry... for everything."
I didn't expect her to believe me on words alone. I was the kind of man who would hurl an entire plate if a meal wasn't to my liking. I would have to prove my reform through my actions.
Claude von Einhart.
It was a prestigious name. I was a high-ranking noble from a prominent family, blessed with the highest status and magical power. I would prove that I could be a man worthy of that name.
...Or so I thought at the time.
Back then, I still didn't understand my true position.
I held a role far more significant than simply being a duke's son or a man with a villainous face.
There are some forms of justice that cannot grow without evil.
That was... well, that was how my future self would eventually see it.