"Quillin Drop, Kraken's Tears…" he muttered, eyeing the ingredients needed for his first potion.
"Haah… Haah… haaa…"
His gaze shifted. Floating lazily in midair, he spotted a pink-haired girl crawling out of the cave, smoke and embers licking the stones behind her. An explosion had just gone off.
He met her eyes.
She looked nothing like the prim and proper girl he once knew—dirt-streaked, hair frazzled, eyes wide with panic.
"You're late," he said flatly. "Don't breathe for an hour. Then we can go."
"AZALEAAAAAA!"
She screamed his name before collapsing, clutching her throat. He didn't even glance her way. He just hovered there, uncaring.
She was already teetering on the edge of insanity—and he hadn't even done anything yet.
So then, what if he actually replicated everything she'd made him experience?
Would she survive it?
He turned his gaze skyward.
"The Elven Empire…" he murmured, thinking about where he'd get the rarer ingredients.
"No, wait. This timeline…"
His thoughts twisted.
"What if I just…"
He had to plan carefully. Every move had to be deliberate. One misstep—
He closed his eyes.
"Vivian."
If the timeline unfolded as expected, then it was already happening.
She should be en route—secretly taken to Morntelia.
The king was actually obsessed with her—a deranged psycho orchestrating mass genocide, just to take her for himself.
She was actually from Albion. A blessed girl with the rare ability to heal curses. She was meant to reach a plague-ridden town, cure it, and move on. But the king had known.
He planned ahead.
The attack by high-tier evolved beasts, the compromised guards, the distraction—
She was taken from right under their noses.
If he could just track them…
"Alright. That's more convenient," he said to himself.
His mind kicked into overdrive—calculations firing faster than he was used to.
The abduction happened outside Albion, near the Ezram border. So, logically, the captors would avoid Ezram's checkpoints.
They'd take the longer route.
Through the Jarel-infested forests.
Those creatures were vicious. That meant roughly ten days to pass through unharmed.
And if he remembered correctly—
The entire event was supposed to take place two weeks after Vermillion Academy's term ended.
"No. They've gone far beyond that," he realized.
They were already halfway to Morntelia. They couldn't use teleportation—too risky. IDs were tracked, and any investigation might expose the king.
He exhaled slowly, eyes still shut.
Then—
They snapped open.
"Got it."
He looked down at Anna. Her eyes were wide, broken.
"You can breathe."
He descended and landed beside her.
She gasped, finally sucking in air properly.
"Please… let me go. Please…" she begged, eyes glossy with tears.
"Funny," he replied, mocking sympathy. "I think a young man once begged a sadist the same way."
Then coldly—
"Get up. Take me back to the hotel."
She grit her teeth.
He could already feel it: Estellia's agents might trace him soon. He had minutes, maybe hours.
But he didn't care.
Fear was an emotion long stripped from him.
Anna closed her eyes, mana swirling around them both as she whispered the teleportation spell.
In a blink—
He stood under a ceiling.
The hotel room.
"Go get me something to eat."
She stared, baffled.
Then her eyes narrowed—but the anger quickly shifted.
"Alright," she muttered, then left.
As soon as the door shut—
"Haah… haah… haaah…"
His breath hitched. He stumbled, clutching his chest.
"What's happening?" he hissed, biting his lip to keep him from passing out.
He'd suspected side effects. He just didn't expect them now.
Of course—power like this, control over another person's will—it would demand a price.
He gritted his teeth, trying to circulate ether to ease the pain. But it didn't help.
It worsened.
"Haah… haaah…"
Eventually, the pain began to fade. He panted, one hand still on his chest.
And then—he felt it.
Something had just left him.
"What the hell is the price I have to pay?" he growled.
[#$%^&*()_]
[No price is too great for revenge]
[An evil entity smiles at you.]
He stared at the message.
An evil entity?
Was that the thing behind this power?
He sighed and chose to forget about it. There was no point obsessing over something he couldn't understand.
But then—
Click.
The door opened. Anna walked in, still looking like a disheveled lunatic.
"Here's your food…" she said with feigned frustration.
"Who said it was for me?" he asked.
Her eyes widened.
"Eat it. Fast. We're leaving."
She froze.