My gaze carefully scanned the figure of the elderly man who had entered, as if trying to catch the slightest hint of falsity.
Every detail of his appearance seemed so familiar: a crisp suit with flawlessly ironed folds, elegant manners, the curved mustache that seemed mathematically precise, and small spectacles sitting perfectly on the bridge of his nose.
All of this made me question whether it was an illusion or reality.
— Madam, I have important news for you, — he spoke in his even, calm voice, which could soothe even a desert storm.
His words made my heart flutter, filling it with anxious hope.
Could it really be true?
Was I truly back?
As I was about to respond, I suddenly noticed something strange.
The world froze.
The light particles of dust floating in the air hung motionless, as if time itself had paused. My companion, Sila, stood rigid, transformed into something resembling a mannequin. I was the only one free from this strange phenomenon.
As I prepared to step forward toward him, my gaze flicked to the nearby chair.
And I saw her.
The woman in black.
Although "black" was far too simple a word to describe her. Her garments and hair were so dark that they seemed to absorb all the light in the room.
They were not merely black — they were the embodiment of absolute darkness. Yet her eyes remained closed, as if she consciously concealed something important, something powerful. It was both strange and unsettling.
A cold fear slithered down my spine.
She was looking at me — or rather, her closed eyes were directed straight at me, radiating something inexplicable. Her intentions were unclear, but when she spoke, a familiar voice sliced through the silence.
— You've understood everything correctly, — she said calmly, her voice like an echo from a distant past.
I frowned, a spark of suspicion igniting in my heart.
— What do you mean? — I asked, though there was no doubt in my mind that I recognized her voice.
— This moment, — she continued, ignoring my question. — You really have returned.
My breath caught.
— How am I supposed to know that's true? — I retorted, trying to remain composed. — And not just an illusion or another nightmare he trapped me in…
For a brief instant, a faint, almost imperceptible smile flickered across her face, then vanished, replaced by icy calm.
— You, as a Soul Master, must understand: your "Master" is not capable of this. His soul… — she paused, as if choosing her words carefully, — his soul is not much stronger than yours. And considering your suicidal move, you should understand: neither of you had any chance of surviving.
Her words were plausible, but I still couldn't shake my doubts.
— But here I am. Which disproves your words, — I countered. — If I survived, then he could survive as well. So this is just another deception. A trap to make me see what he wants and not interfere.
— You still cling to that possibility? — Her voice remained even, but a shadow of regret crept in. She leaned slightly closer, and I felt as though her closed eyes were about to open.
— Examine your state, study this "Illusion." Even if your Master betrayed you, everything he taught you was true. And I repeat: he is not much stronger than you, and creating an illusion this realistic, capable of deceiving you, is beyond him. Especially since he is right there, exactly where he has been all this time. — She pointed to the black-and-white ring on my finger.
I remained silent, her words cutting through me like a blade. Yet I relied on all my knowledge and skill.
Did everything look normal?
Ha-ha, how normal could it possibly look?
My cultivation level and soul condition had reverted to when I was eighteen.
— Do you feel it? — her voice was soft, yet each phrase struck like thunder in the silence.
I clenched my fists, suppressing doubts and the faint stirrings of fear.
— Think. Would he include me in your illusion? That would be foolish. It would increase the chance that you would "break" it.
— If you truly returned, — she continued, straightening slightly, — then this is not his plan. This is your own. Or… — she let the words hang in the air — help from someone who believes in you.
Silence enveloped us, but it was far from peaceful. It was tense, like a taut string ready to snap.
— My name is Nedyam, and my surname is Nori.
— Nedyam? Like the name of our world? — I raised an eyebrow, feeling dozens of questions ignite in my mind.
— You are correct. But to be precise, I am that world.
Her statement stunned me, but instead of panicking or disbelieving, I quickly pieced together the facts. Knowledge accumulated over years began forming a coherent picture.
— Interesting, — I murmured, my thoughts scattering, yet inside everything began forming a clear logical chain.
— That is why you are my favorite, — she remarked with a faint, almost imperceptible smile.
— Uh… thanks? — I replied uncertainly. Unexpected… pleasantly?
— You deserve it, child.
— Ha-ha, many would argue with you, — I smirked, trying to hide my embarrassment. — I was a naughty girl, "hee-hee." Many suffered from my "pranks."
— I know, — her voice grew serious. — But despite everything, you deserve a second chance.
Before I could reply, she continued:
— Alright, we don't have much time. So listen carefully. I was able to bring you back. I hope this time you can achieve more.
— More? — I frowned.
— Yes, but I will not give you exact goals. You are smart enough to understand what to do.
She again pointed at the ring on my finger.
— Until you solve this problem, — she said firmly, — I will not explain why I brought you back or why I helped. Consider this your trial.
Her words echoed in my mind. I slowly nodded.
— Understood.
— Now you have a minute before everything returns to normal. Bye-bye. — With that, Nedyam vanished, as if she had never been there.
I took a deep breath, collecting my thoughts, and patiently waited for everything to come back to life.
Joy bubbled within me: I could fix everything, even make it better. Minutes passed slowly, but when time resumed its flow, I, as if nothing had happened, asked Sila a question, already knowing the answer.
— What could be so important that it interrupts my reading? — I said, a trace of annoyance in my voice, eyes narrowing dangerously.
Ignoring my "aggression," he, as always, began to explain calmly and respectfully:
— Downstairs is a girl. She claims she can offer a way to improve our alchemy rooms.
— Really? And by how much? — raising an eyebrow in surprise, I immediately twisted my lips into a disdainful smirk.
— By twenty percent.
— Ha-ha-ha… interesting. And what does she look like?
Sila, as usual, reported with a neutral tone, as if reading a shopping list:
— Height: 168.5 cm. Black eyes. Simple white dress. Face hidden. Long golden hair. Rank: First Mortal. Name: Anna.
I paused, savoring the moment, then restrained a smile and calmly commanded:
— Prepare a guest room, Rubellite tea, and chess. And yes, inform this "Anna" that I will join her shortly.
As soon as Sila left the room, I instantly shifted my expression to one of intense excitement and, like lightning, dashed to the mirror.
Stopping before it, I carefully examined my reflection.
A girl stared back at me with gothic elegance in every detail. Bright green eyes sparkled like precious emeralds, framed by long, thick lashes.
My hair, a rich crimson, fell in soft waves over my shoulders, interwoven with black ribbons that highlighted the contrast between the fiery strands and the dark magnificence.
I lightly touched the collar of my dress, styled with strict gothic elegance. Smooth black fabric with delicate lace cuffs and a high collar fit perfectly, accentuating my figure.
the center of the bow at my neck shimmered a green stone, gleaming as though holding a secret within.
Intricate rings adorned my fingers, but one — the ring — was so modest and inconspicuous that this was its most striking feature. I fixed my gaze on it, holding my breath.
In truth, it was not a ring. It was two books cleverly disguised as one: black and white. Though separate, together they formed a single artifact, housing the Artifact Spirit.
For years I had called it the Master. But now… now I doubted it had ever been a spirit. To my knowledge, spirits cannot possess the body of an artifact's owner.
Two possibilities battled within me: either it had evolved into a special form of spirit capable of this, or it had been a human pretending to be a Spirit from the start, waiting for the right moment. But now it no longer mattered. It would have no chance.
He would learn what pain truly is.
In the reflection, my lips curved into a mad smile, revealing fangs, and my eyes ignited with a sinister green glow.