'Ha ha ha behold the genius, your saviour, bwhahahahh.'
'I did it in my goddamn first try, can't be helped I may be a genius after all.'
'Mother, I have grown.'
'Light has shone on my miserable life.'
Astis couldn't help himself—his grin stretched wide as he watched the magenta portal pulse above his palm. The faint, otherworldly shimmer captivated him, filling the cramped wagon with a glint of immense possibility. The sense of satisfaction was a warm ache in his chest, he had finally claimed the Sigil he'd always coveted—and not just any Sigil, but a rare one.
Across from him sat the girl who had so casually beheaded the wolf. She had taught him earlier how to summon the portal.
'Just picture it in your hand'
She'd said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. For the past few minutes, Astis had ignored everything else, soaking in the feeling of power and satisfaction of self-admiration.
Without warning, she broke the silence again.
"Stick out your left hand and show me your palm."
Astis perked up, hopeful. Maybe she was going to share another trick. He was smiling hiding the pain inflicted on his left wrist.
But she peered at his hand in mock seriousness, then shook her head.
"Soft,"
She commented.
"Are you sure you're a boy? At your age, you should be, what, at least five feet seven? You're three inches short."
'Or not.... why the fuck are you mocking me, ugh.'
A tick twitched in Astis's jaw. He bristled inside—Was she here to teach him sigil-related techniques or mock his existence? He struggled to keep cool, painfully aware of the girl's crossed arms and possible dangerous glint behind her disappointment.
"Peasant, you're short,"
She declared, utterly deadpan.
Astis nearly combusted with indignation.
'Who're you calling a shortie, you little...? Argh, this is so damn frustrating!'
"I'm not short—I've just stopped growing, that's all."
That was all he dared say and not even loud. True, his body had stopped growing years ago for some reason and he had never stopped complaining to himself. But whenever his mom pointed out and suggested going to the hospital, he would bluntly refuse.
Well, it was because he was embarrassed. He came to a misunderstanding from a novel he once read as a child, that he stopped growing due to excess ejaculation, and he didn't want to be caught. Even though his mother once saw him jerking off, but decided not to tell him, giving him privacy.
So he was pretty sensitive about his own height.
"Anyway, you will be informed what to do after some time. Don't try to run away again, you will not be a sacrifice,.... well, anytime soon."
'Sacrifice, oh I forgot about it, haha how careless of me...'
'How the hell I forgot about it dammit, it's the most important information right now.'
'Oh right, those damn visions… what was the name again? Ivankhel? No, Istanbul? No, no...'
Astis snapped his fingers in frustration.
'How annoying. I'm good at remembering everything—except names.'
'Calm down. Calm down. Calm down.'
He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, slowly steadying his nerves.
The girl's voice cut through his internal chant.
"Anyway, how is your wrist?"
For a second, Astis's ego flared.
'Hoh, is she showing concern for me? Must be my incredible charm at work.'
Even as he thought it, he didn't believe it for a moment—no girl had ever 'proposed' to him, and in truth, he'd always felt a bit self-conscious about his looks.
"It feels like… something is slowly burning inside."
Astis answered, realising he had left her hanging.
She arched a delicate brow, irritation flickering behind her composed mask. Her pale blonde hair fell perfectly to her shoulders, framing a face too composed for someone so young. The elegant sword resting across her lap gleamed in the soft light. She wore a refined, old-fashioned aristocratic dress—Astis had only seen the like in movies.
His gaze lingered a moment too long as he took in her poise and, well, her striking build. Unconsciously, a goofy grin slipped onto his face.
She caught him staring.
"Am I that pretty?" she asked, voice cool.
"Of course,"
He blurted, truth tumbling out before self-preservation could intervene.
A beat later, he realised what he'd said, cheeks flushing. He quickly turned toward the wagon window, feigning fascination with the passing scenery and praying she wouldn't skewer him on the spot.
'Technically, yes. Oops. It isn't charming. Okay, now I know why I'm single.'
'Focus, Astis,'
He scolded himself.
'I need to figure out this Sigil—and those damn visions.'
Then silence settled over the carriage for nearly an hour, broken only by the inner rattling inside Astis's head.
'An answer, huh? I need to give an answer to pass this trial...'
'They dumped all those people into the pit—men, women, even kids. And those clergy-looking freaks in robes? Honestly, they looked like background villains straight out of Dark Souls.'
'Then came the portal. Which, by the way, looks eerily similar to the one hovering above my hand right now.'
He winced, shifting in his seat.
Speaking of my hand, the pain in my left wrist just worsens. Great. Another thing added to my list of things falling apart.'
'Okay, back to the trial. Two girls appeared like protagonists from some overproduced epic, seconds away from facing a final boss. Seriously? Could it be more cliché?'
'So this Ivansha—or Intisa, or Ivanthel, or whatever her name is—is probably one of those two. That seems likely.'
'Hopefully she will be someone cute, and fall for me... "Do you like me?" Haha, how charming. Yep, that's definitely not on my bingo card right now.'
'And then there's the Sigil—my Sigil. The Sigil of Gate. It's gotta be tied to portals, spatial bending, maybe even summoning? And then there's the possibility of my awakening as an Axis Controller. Definitely not something low-rank.'
'High-class Sigils come with a trial. That much was clear from what Mom said. Though this method… yeah, let's call it extreme.'
Astis sighed.
'Ugh. I just want to lie down and read a good novel. Too many damn mysteries and not enough answers.'
The journey back to the mansion stretched into nearly an hour, giving Astis plenty of time to wonder how the body's previous owner had managed to run so far out into the fields before nearly becoming wolf food. The strangeness gnawed at him, but for now, all he could do was brace himself for whatever was going to happen.
"Peasant, we have arrived."
The lady's voice was a chilling whisper, her cold eyes fixed on the imposing gate that loomed some twenty meters above them.
'Is this where it begins?' Astis wondered, a knot tightening in his stomach.
As the door of the wagon swung open, a priest stood waiting outside. The lady cast a brief glance at him before gracefully descending the wooden stairs that had been prepared for her.
It was a scene he had only encountered in fantasy novels: a vast garden blooming in vivid glory—but every flower, every petal, was red. Crimson stretched across the landscape like spilt paint. The only untouched area was the narrow pebble-laid path leading directly to the gate.
Once her foot touched the ground, she muttered,
"As always, I hate walking."
'Are you a spoiled princess, tch, tch so typical...'
Astis complained while a cluster of priests quickly gathered, bowing deeply to her, indicating the high status of the girl.
However, when he saw those priests, Astis could barely keep his composure; his focus was consumed by an instinctual dread. Although he had yet to encounter true terror himself, the true owner of this body had etched into him an unshakeable horror of the place. He found himself paralysed, unable to even twitch a muscle under an overwhelming wave of fear.
'Move, move! I can't think at all!'
'Run, run away!'
The lady's keen gaze caught his distress.
"Oh my, even the lamb feels fear when just about to be slaughtered,"
She remarked with a chilling smile, her eyes like icy daggers piercing into his own.
Sweat cascaded down his temples, making him gulp hard.
'Just like that, humanoid Hingcha who sent me here. What are you?'
Her attention shifted to a nearby priest, anger flashing across her features.
"Mongrel, what are you staring at?"
She snapped.
The priest, fraught with panic, began to babble.
"Y-Your grace, how could a lowly worm like me dare look upon you? I have sinned; please, punish me!"
He crumpled to the ground among the pebbles. An oppressive silence enveloped the air, thick enough that no one dared utter a word.
'Is she the leader of these priests?'
"Check his hand,"
She commanded, her glare directed at the trembling priest, who quaked under her scrutiny.
The priest rushed towards Astis, causing him to instinctively step back, heart racing.
Once in front of him, Astis felt emotions that had been bottled up for far too long threatening to spill over, yet he managed to suppress them.
The priest conjured a mystical circle of yai and inspected his body. Minutes stretched painfully long as Astis stood frozen, his mind whirling.
Finally, the priest turned back, clearing his throat.
"Speak," the lady ordered.
"With due respect, my lady,"
The priest replied without a tremble.
"The corruption will spread across his entire body within an hour if it's left untreated."
"Corruption? What corruption? What are you people talking about?"
Astis asked in confusion standing inside the wagon glancing around them
The priest's voice bore an unusual steadiness, a detail Astis would have noted under different circumstances.
The lady's gaze fell upon Astis again, and an uneasy understanding settled over him.
In a moment of instinct, he leapt from the wagon, darting left in a futile attempt to escape.
'She's going to kill me.'
Yet, the priests were faster. They seized him, pinning him face down against the pebbles with their grip unyielding.
"Let me— go! Please, spare— me!" he wailed, desperation splintering his voice.
Amidst his tumult, soft footsteps caressed his ears. He turned instinctively toward the sound.
The lady approached, elegant yet terrifying, her slender sword glimmering with jewels embedded in its hilt.
His eyes widened with realisation. How could he forget the girl in his vision.
"You said I am now a—William, right? Please spare me! I am... I am your family!"
A maniacal laugh escaped her lips, the sound eerily matched by the blood-red flowers that surrounded them.
"You are a William, but no family of mine, pathetic."
With that, she raised her sword high, and indifferently she swung it down.