A woman stood at the edge of the balcony, her black dress was shifting with the night breeze.
A crow landed quietly on her.
Its talons gripped tight on her shoulder.
She took a small rolled parchment from the crow's leg. It bore the seal of a long-lost kingdom.
She broke the seal, and it fell to the ground.
Her red lips curved as she read.
"You failed to claim your place last time. Make sure he does not slip through your fingers again."
A low hum of amusement came from her.
"Such cunning," she said. A slow smile touched her lips. She let the parchment roll in her gloved hands as if she liked its weight. "For a mere bandit."
***
A single drop of water fell. It made ripples on an unseen surface. The sound was far away, almost empty, lost in the deep, endless space around it. Then another drop. And another. A slow, steady fall into nothing.
Something pulled. Not a hand. Not a force with intent. Just the undercurrent, invisible fingers of the deep wrapping around the limbs, tugging down. Cold water seeped into the bones, heavy as lead. The flesh felt weightless, as if it did not belong.
The weightless drift of the deep should have gone on forever. Yet there was a feeling, faint but real. Something holding the mind, hooking into what was left of awareness. It was not touch. It was not pain. It was not real.
But it felt like movement.
A slow, careful pull.
Like something was being carried, or carrying itself.
Yet there was no shape, no direction. Only the hint of motion, the whisper of a presence that should not be. The feeling of being dragged, without touch, without force.
Something stirred beneath the weight of nothing.
And then the silence grew deeper.
***
A breath came. It was ragged, sharp, and real.
Rage's eyes opened. Shapes drifted in and out of focus. They moved like smudged paint on wet canvas. His head throbbed. His body felt both weightless and heavy. Everything seemed wrong. It was like he was only halfway here. The other half was still sinking somewhere far below.
He blinked once. Twice.
The haze barely lifted. But he saw them.
Long ears. Frilly skirts. Bunny girls.
"...Yeah, okay. I'm dead."
His voice was hoarse and dry. Maybe even a little amused. But he was also very confused.
If this was the afterlife, it was not what he expected. No fire. No void. No blue-haired goddess. Just beastwomen.
He squinted. His vision was still swirling. His mind lagged behind. It tried to catch up.
He exhaled slowly. His head tilted to the side.
A strange pressure pressed on his chest. It felt like he was still being pulled from somewhere. He ignored it. He just stared at the hazy figures. He waited for his vision or his existence to make sense again.
Then a shadow appeared. It was bigger and bulkier. It felt immediately wrong.
Even through the blur, Rage could see the shape of a man. Wide frame. Heavy steps. A familiar face he did not want to see clearly.
Something in his brain lurched. Instinct took over.
His vision snapped into focus all at once. It was like a switch flipped.
[SYSTEM] Oswald Lv.32
[SYSTEM] class : Alchemist
[SYSTEM] neutral
"This one's come back from the dead," Oswald muttered. His voice was steady but respectful. "The boy appears to have recovered."
Rage's eyes moved toward the person he was speaking to.
A tall figure stood there. She had a presence that filled the space around her.
[SYSTEM] Vaelith Lv.81
[SYSTEM] class : Assassin
[SYSTEM] loyalty : 52%
She was hard to ignore. She was tall and graceful. She wore dark robes. The black designs on them shone faintly. The high collar framed her pale face. Her lips were bright red. Her black hair fell straight down her back. It looked perfect.
And her eyes.
A small, cold smile appeared on her lips as she looked at him. She seemed to be ahead, watching him in a game he did not know about.
She tilted her chin slightly. "Excellent."
Rage groaned. He blinked against the blur in his vision. Everything felt far away. His body was heavy. His thoughts were slow.
He exhaled and dragged a shaky hand down his face. Then he muttered, "Mommy..."
Vaelith laughed. It was deep and smooth. She stepped forward easily, as if the air itself moved for her.
"Welcome, my dear," she said. Her voice was slow and full of amusement and power. "To Ebonwake Shroud, a kingdom beyond the heavens' reach."
She held out a hand. It was covered in black gloves. Her fingers looked like they offered both safety and something much darker.
"You have fallen far, haven't you?" Her red lips curved. Her eyes studied him closely. "But do not worry. You are exactly where you were meant to be."
Rage pushed himself up on one elbow. He shifted until his back rested against the headboard. His movements were slow and careful. It was not from pain, but from the strange lack of it.
His eyes moved around the room. He noticed a dark streak on the bed. A smear of dried blood ruined the clean sheets. The trail went across the floor toward the door.
A few figures in maid clothes worked quietly. They cleaned the last of the blood. They were not bothered at all. It was as if this was normal.
Rage pressed his hand against his stomach where Genma's sword had cut him. His fingers touched only smooth skin. There was no wound. No bandages. Not even a little pain.
He let his head fall back against the headboard and stared at the ceiling. He wondered if he had just woken up in a game and he would be running away from her three daughters later.
His eyes moved to Vaelith. She stood there, quietly amused.
He really hoped he was joking.
"Come," she said. "You will follow."
Rage swung his legs over the side of the bed. He pushed himself upright. A pair of delicate hands draped a heavy fabric over his shoulders. He looked to the side. One of the maids adjusted the garment. She did not speak.
Vaelith turned and walked toward the door. The guards outside opened it at the same time. Beyond it, candlelight flickered on the polished walls. The corridor stretched out with dark wood and fine details.
Rage stepped forward following her.
By the time they reached the dining hall, the long table was ready. Vaelith sat at the head of the table. Rage was guided to the opposite end.
Dinner came without a word from the maids. Each dish was placed silently. Rage ate. The rich flavors did not distract him from the presence of the woman across the table.
When the last dish was cleared, Vaelith lifted a gloved hand.
It was a small motion, but it had an effect.
Ten maids stepped forward together. Five stood on each side of Rage. They held perfect posture.
"Did you poison my food?" Rage asked.
"Why would we need to poison you," Vaelith replied, "when we could easily dispatch you in your sleep?"
"Makes sense," Rage said, frowning. "But how did you know I like bunny eared maids in frilly maid outfits? Should I be worried?"
Vaelith's crimson lips curled slightly. "Think of them as an investment." She leaned forward. The candlelight caught a glint of amusement in her eyes. "And insurance."
Rage looked at the maids, then back at her. "No idea what you mean."
Vaelith rested her chin on her gloved fingers. She watched him like someone who had already decided the outcome.
"Tomorrow, you will go to the dungeons," she said. "A trial waits. It will decide if you are just a wanderer or something greater."
Rage exhaled. His voice was dry. "Of course. Another queen sending me into danger. Let's hope I do not die again."
Vaelith let out a soft hum. She tilted her head slightly.
"You will not die."
There was no hesitation. No doubt. Just certainty, as if death did not exist.
Rage frowned. The way she said it, so sure, so final, sent a cold prickle down his spine. It was not comfort. It was something else. Something unsettling.
***
The rest of the evening was quiet. The maids worked without wasted motion. They tended to him. They did not say much. They only gave polite smiles when he tried to talk. They gave no words. They gave no reasons. The ten maids Vaelith chose followed him everywhere he went.
Rage went out to the balcony of his room. He leaned on the railing. He looked at the view.
Ebonwake Shroud was before him. It was a kingdom in mist. Tall spires and dark roofs went up and down in the fog. Their shapes were not clear. They kept changing. There were no stars. There was no moon. There was only the dark. It went on forever.
He went back inside. The maids were already there. They did not speak. They moved around him well. They put him in the nice bed. It was like a holy act. One maid stepped close. She reached for the candle holder.
A soft breath came. A quick move happened. The last fire went out.
Darkness came. Silence came with it.
***
Someone knocked on the door.
Rage moved. His eyes opened. The light was weak. It came through the sky full of mist. It should have been morning. The world outside the balcony was still dark. The sunlight tried to come through. It did not break the mist that covered the city.
He sat up. He stretched. Sleep left him. The maids were there. They always moved quietly. They helped him dress. They worked well like the night before. They did not show feeling.
He stepped outside.
Vaelith was already waiting in the hallway.
"It is time," she said. "The dungeons await. This is the next step in your path."
"Got it," he replied.
A figure appeared beside Vaelith. She wore a long cloak with a hood. Vaelith seemed to know her. From the shape beneath the cloak, it looked like a woman.
[SYSTEM] Elyndis Lv.64
[SYSTEM] class : Luminarch
[SYSTEM] neutral
He did not have time to ask.
A maid stepped forward.
She carried something wrapped in cloth and held it out to Rage with both hands.
Rage took the cloth and unwrapped it.
Inside was a curved sword and a dagger.
The weapons were smooth and sharp. They felt right in his hand.
Vaelith's voice broke the silence.
"You will not walk this path alone," she said as she stepped forward. "I will go with you."
She smiled as her gaze flicked toward the maids now falling into position behind him. "As well as your attendants."
"Suit yourself," Rage replied.
***
Outside the castle, the gates opened. A carriage waited below the steps.
Rage stepped inside without speaking. Vaelith sat across from him with her usual calm grace. The ten maids followed and took their seats.
The ride through the city was quiet. Mist filled the streets. The buildings rose on each side, their shapes faded in the fog. But one tower stood clear even through the haze. It was tall, reaching high into the sky.
The carriage slowed before the entrance. Guards stood in rows on each side of a massive door. At a silent signal, they stepped forward and pushed it open.
A deep groan filled the air. The doors pushed back, then opened with a heavy sound, as if they had not moved in years.
Cold air poured out, pulling the mist inside. It felt like the tower had been waiting to breathe again.
As they stepped in, the cold surrounded them.
One by one, the torches on the walls lit up. They showed a long, narrow path.
At the end stood another door.
Rage let out a breath. "Grindfest ahead."
The doors creaked open. What he saw was not what he expected.
There was no grand climb, no endless tower reaching upward.
Instead, a wide spiral staircase led down into the dark. The steps vanished into the black below.
[SYSTEM] Queen Vaelith : Loyalty 61%
[SYSTEM] Corruption : 21.8%