The room fell into a silence so complete that even the softest drop of a needle would have echoed against the polished wooden floors. Candlelight flickered across the walls, casting long, quivering shadows that danced over the ornate furnishings. Every movement, the shuffle of a servant's foot outside, the faint rustle of silk, sounded amplified, intrusive against the heavy stillness. Alteraz felt as if time itself had slowed, the air charged with anticipation, and every instinct in her body screamed that something extraordinary was about to unfold.
The tension lingered from moments earlier, from the memory of Zhangxuan's words, "Very well," and the soft, restrained chuckle that followed. Alteraz and Ansley had not expected it. She had imagined calm, indifference, perhaps a simple nod, but not that. That subtle curl of his lips, paired with the faint, almost playful laugh, carried a weight neither of them had anticipated.
I've already said this a while ago, but damn, the author really favored this one.
Alteraz looked at Zhangxuan as though he were a celestial being descended into the mundane world. The faint smile resting on his lips was almost imperceptible, yet intoxicating. It was neither warm nor cruel, like a spark held in a hand, delicate yet capable of burning. That smile, following the soft chuckle from before, now seemed more dangerous, as if he was already aware of everything that would happen next. Alteraz's chest tightened, and she could feel her pulse quicken.
Even Ansley, who had always been under the Grandmaster's shadow, could not help but be astonished and terrified at the same time. Ansley knew that particular smile all too well. It was the kind that appeared before decisions were made, decisions that could change lives. That calm, controlled look always preceded something dangerous, and Ansley's fingers itched instinctively at his side. He had learned long ago to pay attention to the slightest cues, the faintest shifts in the grandmaster's expression.
Alteraz, for her part, could not look away. She felt small, as if her heartbeat was far too loud for the quiet around them. She wanted to speak, to ask something, but the words caught in her throat. Something in the way Zhangxuan exuded control, even without trying, was hypnotic, magnetic, and terrifying all at once.
Then, as if to break the tension, a firm knock sounded at the door. The sound reverberated in the room, shattering the heavy silence. A group of servants entered immediately after, moving in orderly formation and bowing deeply.
"Greetings, Grandmaster, Lady Alteraz, everything has been settled, and we are ready to depart. We await your command," one of them announced. Their voices were polite but carried the precision of trained servants, a discipline that left no room for error.
Alteraz's thoughts returned to earlier that day, when Atila had chased her through the corridors, urging her to dress quickly for a banquet.
Curiosity overcame hesitation, and she turned to Zhangxuan.
"Master, where are we going?"
He did not answer her. Instead, his eyes flicked briefly toward her, almost assessing, before moving back to Ansley as if to silently communicate something.
Ansley seemed to understand. He stepped forward, gesturing for Alteraz to follow him.
"Young miss, please follow this servant," he instructed.
Alteraz glanced back at Zhangxuan one last time. He had already returned to the documents in front of him, as though she and the question did not even exist.
What is he thinking?… she wondered.
They began walking, and the corridors seemed to stretch endlessly before them. The polished marble floors reflected the soft glow of lanterns, while murals depicting ancient battles and forgotten legends lined the walls. The ceilings were high, supported by carved pillars etched with intricate symbols telling stories she did not understand.
How big is this residence? Why are we still walking?
The corridors twisted and turned, staircases rising unexpectedly, hallways opening into more hallways.
Five minutes passed.
Ten minutes...
Alteraz could feel her patience thinning, but Ansley showed no sign of slowing.
Finally, unable to contain herself, she spoke.
"Mr. Alfor, may I ask where we are heading?"
She froze internally, startled at the name escaping her lips. She didn't know the name of this secretary but the word came naturally, as if some fragment of the original Alteraz's memory had surfaced. Ansley paused, his eyes narrowing slightly, intrigued, then murmured softly to himself, "Alfor…" before looking back at her. He did not seem bothered, and Alteraz took it as though the name had always belonged to him.
"This servant is taking you to the residence's weaponry chamber," he said finally.
"The weaponry chamber… what for?"
He raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement flickering across his face. "Did you not say you wished to become a proper disciple of the Grandmaster this time?" he asked. "Then you should know the answer yourself."
Alteraz's bewilderment was brief. She nodded, swallowing her curiosity, as he continued forward.
When they arrived, she finally saw the door. It was massive, taller than any door she had ever seen. Every surface was engraved with intricate inscriptions, glowing faintly with a golden light. On either side stood two statues, cloaked and towering, each holding a sword pressed to the ground. The sheer size of them made her take an involuntary step back.
"My lady, please stand a few steps back," Ansley instructed.
She complied cautiously. Ansley began speaking in a low, rhythmic chant, a language she did not understand. The ground beneath her feet shivered slightly, and the statues slowly shifted, the grind of their stone feet echoing in the chamber. One by one, the inscriptions on the door flared to life, glowing brighter and brighter until the entire entrance radiated an intense golden light.
The door groaned, heavy with age, and then swung open, revealing a passage shrouded in darkness.
"Follow me, young miss," Ansley said.
As they stepped inside, the door slammed shut behind them, cutting them off from the light of the hall. For a brief moment, the world was swallowed by complete darkness.
What the…
Panic rose in her chest, but before she could react, torches along the walls ignited all at once. The darkness retreated to reveal a chamber that seemed lifted from another world.
The space was vast and ethereal, its walls covered in gold and intricate patterns that shimmered faintly. Coins and artifacts were scattered across the floor like relics of fallen empires yet her attention was drawn to the center of the room, where five objects floated in the air, glowing softly, suspended by magic.
Ansley held out a jade token toward her. "The Grandmaster wishes for you to choose a soul weapon," he said. "Among these five objects, only one will recognize you as its master. The others will remain mere artifacts unless called by another."
Alteraz recalled the original plot. Every mage had a weapon, but only those acknowledged by a powerful master received a soul weapon. It was not just a weapon; it was a bond. The weapon would merge with its owner. Therefore, if the owner died, the weapon would disappear. Zhangxuan had never given the original Alteraz her weapon because he had feared what she might do with it.
So this is what he wants...
"Mr. Alfor, what should I do?" she asked.
"Place a drop of your blood on the token and see what happens," Ansley replied, handing her a thin needle.
Her hand trembled slightly as she pricked her finger and let a droplet of blood fall onto the jade. The token immediately glowed, and a force struck her body. She bent over, coughing up blood as the chamber around her seemed to dissolve.
She was no longer in the weaponry room.
Instead, she stood in a dark dimension, surrounded by glowing vines that twisted and pulsed like living veins. The air was cold, heavy, and thick with magic. Her stomach twisted painfully as panic rose in her chest. Her vision flickered in shadows, and the darkness seemed alive. Whispers circled her ears like a soft wind, unintelligible, yet heavy with intent.
Then she felt it.
A presence behind her, something cold, something impossibly close. A hand wrapped around her shoulder, gripping gently but firmly. Another slid across her neck, brushing just enough to make her shiver. The air pressed closer, closing her in.
"I found you…"
The voice was a whisper, low and almost tender, yet it carried an undertone that made her blood run cold. It lingered, echoing inside her skull, bouncing off invisible walls. She tried to twist to see who it was, but the figure seemed to shift with her movement, staying just out of reach. It whispered again, closer this time, brushing her ear.
"We meet again, Alteraz"
Her heart pounded. The vines pulsed rhythmically, matching the beat of her chest. Every instinct screamed to fight or flee, yet her body felt paralyzed, suspended between fear and fascination. The voice was not loud, but it filled the space entirely, surrounding her like a living shadow.
Time stretched.
It could have been seconds or minutes that she could not tell. The darkness, the whisper, and the pulse of the glowing veins pressed against her, testing her, drawing something out of her very being. And then, as quickly as it had appeared, the presence vanished. The shadows shivered and dissolved. The air lifted its pressure, leaving her trembling but intact.
She was back.
The weaponry chamber opened before her eyes. Ansley, along with several servants, and Atila were gathered around.
Ansley stepped closer, his gaze scanning her carefully. "Are you feeling all right? That trial… it must have been intense. Can you stand steadily?"
Alteraz pressed a hand to her side, still catching her breath, but managed a small nod. "I… I think so," she murmured.
Atila, kneeling slightly, mirrored his concern. "My lady, you were hurt… do you truly feel well enough to move? You must not push yourself too soon. And… the banquet… uh forget it. You must rest."
Alteraz blinked, realizing she had almost forgotten. "I… I will attend," she said firmly. She can't let go this opportunity with Zhangxuan.
Ansley's expression softened. "If you truly cannot, I can inform the Grandmaster and excuse you. It is better to be safe than reckless."
Alteraz shook her head, determination flashing. "No, I can go, I will attend."
Ansley studied her, impressed by her resolve, and gave a subtle nod toward Atila, signaling her to guide Alteraz to her chambers.
Atila stepped forward, "Come, my lady. Let us not delay."
While being led away, Ansley spoke quietly, just for her to hear, "My lady, the name Alfor."
Alteraz's gaze flickered up at him, surprised, but she could only nod slightly from her daze, not knowing what he was saying.
Ansley looked upward, his thoughts drifting softly,
It's been a while since I've heard that name
___
In Alteraz's room.
The room was alive with activity. Maids moved with practiced precision. One gently guided her gown over her shoulders, smoothing it until it fell perfectly. Another arranged the folds at her waist so the fabric flowed naturally. A third brushed her hair, weaving it carefully, leaving loose strands that framed her face delicately. Oils and pomades lent a faint, pleasant scent, warm and reassuring. Subtle touches of makeup highlighted her features without masking them. Each small motion, each careful adjustment, made her feel seen, attended to, and almost alive in a way she had never experienced.
Alteraz watched herself in the mirror as the last maid stepped back. The girl staring back was hers, yet unfamiliar. Her gown flowed naturally. Her hair was smooth and styled, but still soft. Her eyes were clear, cheeks lightly flushed, lips faintly tinted. She was not outstandingly pretty, but there was a quiet elegance, a steady presence that drew attention without effort. Enough to draw glances, but not so much that it felt unnatural.
She pressed her fingers to the small knife at her waist. It glowed softly, familiar and reassuring.
Alteraz… I look pretty, she whispered to herself.
It was the first time she had been able to stop and truly see herself, rather than running or surviving. She felt light, sheltered, and cared for. Surrounded by comfort she had never known.
So this is how it feels to have no burden