Ash was still holding on.
His body trembled violently under the pressure, but he refused to fall completely. Blood flowed heavier from his nose, ears, and mouth—but he was still conscious. Still fighting.
If anyone saw this scene, they probably wouldn't believe their eyes. They'd think they were under some kind of illusion spell.
But this was real.
The man feared across the world, the strongest Swordmaster alive, was kneeling so easily—showing no meaningful resistance.
If Ash were an ordinary soldier—or even a high-level swordsman—his body would've been crushed to dust by now.
But he was still here. Still alive.
As he fought against the crushing pressure, a strange feeling wrapped around his heart. Something painful coiled around his chest as his head bowed lower and his body was forced to bend deeper.
'NO.'
Ash bit his lip hard. His teeth ground together so hard his jaw ached.
'I won't... I won't bow.'
He gathered every last bit of strength left in his body. Every drop of mana he could reach.
Then a chill spread through the void. White breath escaped from his mouth, clearly visible even in the darkness. Around him, in that endless emptiness, tiny particles began forming.
Snow. Snowflakes started falling in a place where nothing should exist.
A cold aura radiated from Ash's body, pushing back against the crushing pressure—just a little.
His teeth clenched tighter.
"Me...? Me... kneeling...?"
The words came out from behind his clenched teeth, barely a whisper. His hands were shaking and bleeding, with blood and sweat mixing together as he pressed harder against the invisible ground. He tried to push himself up
'Since when... since when did I kneel to anyone?'
The thought burned through his mind.
'A god? Really? A GOD?'
Anger cut through the fear.
'I'm Ash von Krieger. I'm the one who made heaven and earth bow. I'm THE GREAT.'
His body screamed in protest. But his pride wouldn't let him stop. Blood flowed from his mouth as he forced his head up.
"I... won't... kneel..."
His vision blurred. Everything spun. But through the blur, he could still see them. Those eyes. Eyes like empty black holes that swallowed everything.
His chest felt extremely painful. His throat burned and felt heavy—he couldn't get a single word out. But Ash didn't flinch. He stared at those eyes with no fear on his face.
'If you're a god... then watch me, Ash von Krieger, defy you.'
As Ash stared at those eyes, challenging something that shouldn't exist in this world, a sound erupted. A scream. Like someone screaming in pain, begging for help
Not from him—from everywhere. From the void itself.
The sound was deafening. It stabbed straight into his brain like hot needles, rattling his skull from the inside. Everything around him vibrated with it.
His vision flashed white, Then slowly turned black.
He felt himself falling—not down, but away. Like he was being pulled backward into an endless abyss.
And just before everything faded—just before consciousness slipped away—he heard it.
A voice. Faint among the ringing in his ears. Among all those screams.
"Ash... I expect much from you."
The words floated in his mind. Then darkness swallowed him whole.
***
Complete darkness surrounded him. Ash floated in that endless void, unconscious, lost in the space between waking and dreaming.
In the middle of darkness, a light appeared. Golden light. It cut through the emptiness like a sharp blade slicing through the black.
The light touched Ash's floating body, suspended in that bottomless abyss. Then he felt it Something pulling him toward the light.
He floated upward. Slowly at first, then faster. The golden light grew brighter, stronger, more intense with every second.
Higher and Higher. The light became blinding.
His closed eyes trembled as the light surrounded him completely. His eyes slowly opened.
Brightness flooded his vision. He raised his hand, shielding his eyes from the sudden glare.
'What... where am I?'
As his vision adjusted, shapes began forming. The familiar wooden ceiling greeted him. His cabin. He was back in his cabin.
Ash lay there, staring at the ceiling he knew so well, his mind still foggy and confused.
'… how did I get here?'
He tried to sit up—and immediately felt something was wrong.
As a Swordmaster, Ash knew every inch of his body. Every muscle. For any swordsman, knowing your strength and body was basic knowledge.
But know, something felt strange. His body felt extremely light, like he'd lost all his muscles. And what used to be balanced now had weight heavily concentrated in one place—his chest.
'What the hell… why does my chest feel so heavy?'
Still half-conscious, he looked down—and froze.
Two soft bulges pressed against his shirt. Curves that definitely weren't there before.
'What the actual fuck is going on here?'
His hands moved on their own, brushing against his chest—and yeah, it was real. Soft. Totally real.
Then his hands shot up to his face, feeling his features. Softer. Smoother. His jawline less sharp. His cheeks rounder.
Ash grabbed a handful of hair and pulled it forward. White hair fell way past his shoulders—way longer than before. It went past his shoulders, almost halfway down his back.
'No… this isn't real…'
He jumped to his feet, stumbling as he ran to the wooden bucket in the corner. His movements felt weird—his balance was off, his hips moving in a way they never did before.
Ash bent over the bucket and stared at his reflection in the water.
His breath caught.
A woman stared back.
Young—maybe twenty years old. Pretty. Delicate features. Soft pink lips. ice-blue eyes, and long white hair framing a face that looked elegant and refined
But the eyes—those ice-blue eyes—those were the only thing that hadn't changed
"No..."
The voice that came out was higher. Softer. A woman's voice.
He touched his face again, watching the reflection do the same thing. The same blue eyes, the same shocked expression—but on a completely different face
It was him. But it wasn't.
Ash stepped back. His hands moved down his body, checking, making sure of what he already knew. Thin waist. Curved hips. Soft skin. And that chest.
Everything had changed.
"What... what did that thing do to me...?"
His voice trembled—that soft, feminine voice that was now his.
The words from the darkness echoed in his mind.
"Ash... I expect much from you."
His legs gave out. He dropped to the floor, back against the wall, staring at his hands—smaller now, delicate, thin fingers.
He—no, she—had become a complete woman.
'Why...? Why did it do this to me?'