When my senses returned, the world felt faint—like waking inside someone else's breath. My limbs were heavy, my mind fogged, and Aeldir's voice echoed first.
[Oh bro… did your hobby become collapsing now?]
I groaned. "It's your body's fault I still can't sync with it."
[Whatever you say. That spell—your vessel—what was that?]
"You saw it?"
[Barely. A shadow. A silhouette. But enough to call it terrifyingly fascinating.]
I massaged the bridge of my nose. "Then why are you still walking around like nothing happened? We both collapsed."
[Nope. You collapsed. Your soul dropped like a rock. I took over before your body hit the floor.]
"…So tell me everything that happened."
Aeldir began listing things like a bored narrator reporting the end of the world.
[First: the attendant you beat ran away so fast his armor almost cried.
Second: you're now considered Princess Lysandria's personal attendant.
Third—and the interesting part—Her Highness starts school in two days. The King is arranging something to increase your age so you can accompany her.]
"My age? What—why—how even—?"
[No idea, bro. Ask him yourself.]
"Then… where are we going right now?"
He sounded amused.
[The princess is guiding us to our room.]
"…What?"
[Unless you wanted to sleep in her room?]
"That's not what I—!"
Aeldir burst into mental laughter.
[Relax. But uh… maybe look forward.]
I did.
And instantly regretted it.
Princess Lysandria walked a step ahead of us—graceful, confident, absolutely aware of every second I'd been monologuing inside my head. She looked over her shoulder, catching my startled expression, and… laughed. The light, bell-like kind.
She stopped at two adjacent doors across a hallway.
"This one is yours," she said. "Take a look. Come back quickly—I still have work for you."
I stepped inside.
The room felt unreal. White-stone walls embedded with faintly glowing blue mana crystals. A broad elven-style bed with layered blankets that shimmered with mana threads. A large window seat framed a blooming garden outside. A carved wardrobe, an armor stand, and a floor rug woven with constellations.
A quiet sanctuary, elegant yet powerful.
I exhaled in awe and stepped back out.
"Princess… why give this to a mere attendant?"
Her violet-silver eyes softened. "It was empty for a long time. And… you remind me of someone precious I once knew."
Remind her of someone…?
My heart trembled, but I pushed the thought aside.
"And the work you mentioned?" I asked.
"Follow me."
She led me toward the garden gazebo. The stone path shimmered faintly with mana, flowers glowing softly as if bowing to her presence.
In the gazebo stood a table—and on it, a chessboard.
"Sit," she said.
I obeyed.
"Do you know how to play?"
"A little," I lied.
(In reality, I was a CM-level monster in my past world.)
"Then your first task: defeat me."
I smiled politely. "I'll try."
The match began.
Her opening was sharp—disciplined. She was no beginner; in 1–2 years, she could reach competitive strength.
I crushed her in the opening easily… then intentionally threw blunders midgame. Misdirected knights. Delayed checks. Overextended rooks. I acted like a beginner with oddly good instincts but no long-term planning.
Her eyes brightened, then sharpened, then sparkled with confidence.
She checkmated me after a dramatic struggle.
"Not bad," I praised.
She grinned proudly. "Now second task. Do you know how to ride a horse?"
"Yes… why?"
"I want a race."
Aeldir whispered inside me:
[Bro. Win. Use her promise to get help for our parents.]
I nodded faintly. "If it's your wish, Princess."
We mounted our horses—hers a snow-white mare, mine a jet-black stallion.
"The loser grants the winner one wish," she declared.
We charged.
At first she dominated—the wind itself seemed to carry her. Then gradually, with precise timing and control, I matched her pace.
A full lap around the castle—and we crossed the finish at the exact same second.
A tie.
She blinked, stunned. "Then… we each get one wish."
"Agreed. What's yours?"
She looked straight into my soul.
"Take a soul oath of honesty and loyalty to me."
A screen blazed across my vision.
[System Warning — Soul Oath is a high-risk magical contract. Proceed only with absolute certainty.]
My pulse quickened. "Princess… what is a soul oath?"
"If you break the terms, the oath devours your soul," she said plainly. "But every royal attendant takes one. It is our tradition. And—" she hesitated, "—I don't want you to think I mistrust you."
Her voice… wasn't manipulative.
It was gentle. Firm.
Like someone afraid I might misunderstand her intentions.
Aeldir whispered:
[Bro… she's not tricking you. It's real tradition. And she chose a softer version so you don't feel forced.]
I lowered my gaze. "…Then I accept."
Mana surged.
My heartbeat synced with a pulse not my own.
The system vibrated violently.
[The Curse Weaver of Fallen Flames observes your oath with great interest.]
Curse Weaver…? That strange whisperer from my dreams?
"Princess," I asked slowly, "do you know what a Curse—"
Time froze.
Air thickened.
Space bent.
A distant growl rippled through reality.
[YOU FOOL—DON'T SAY MY NAME—]
The world shattered into vibrations.
Blood streamed from my ears, my nose, my eyes.
Crimson droplets floated upwards like reversed rain.
A mana surge roared through my veins—wild, electric, tearing me apart from inside.
My vision faded.
The last thing I heard was the princess shouting my name.
Then darkness claimed me.