The Pendant of Eternal Dawn, or as Freya liked to call it, Aurora's Pendant.
Even just from the name, you could guess what kind of power such an artifact held.
Aurora, the Roman goddess of dawn, never actually existed in the story. Just a mythical deity, like in my original world.
But the difference between our worlds...was that in this one, the pendant did exist.
A pendant that grants you one more life.
A literal resurrection tool.
Unlike every other spell or cursed object that required sacrifices or came with side effects, this one brought you back just as you were. Whole. Intact. No price, no strings.
Now..isn't that just the perfect little artifact?
The perfect treasure, for the perfect lady.
Well, outwardly perfect.
Anyway, in this grim fantasy world, powerful relics were scattered everywhere. Magical weapons and divine artifacts that no one knew how they had fallen from the sky and landed on the earth.
Yet they all ended up in the hands of nobles.
The more powerful the family, the larger their arsenal.
And as for something like Aurora's Pendant?
Well… I've always wondered which high-ranking house owned something that absurd.
Or rather, Freya had always wondered.
As for me… standing in front of her right now?
I knew the answer.
The only real answer.
But.
would she even let me explain my proposal in more detail?
Well.
"You lowly insect,!!"
The second Waltimar heard those words come out of my mouth, he looked like he couldn't restrain his rage any longer.
And unlike before, this time, Freya didn't stop him.
With a sharp gesture, he activated the collar spell.
"Gkk,aghh!!"
Like a bear trap clamping down with all its might, the iron collar tightened around my neck with crushing force. The pressure was so strong I couldn't even gasp, no air could pass through to my lungs.
I dropped to one knee immediately, my eyes bulging, tears involuntarily welling up, saliva dribbling from my mouth.
I tried to suck in the tiniest bit of air.
Nothing.
It was as if the collar had sucked all the oxygen from the space around me, not just my throat. Even Freya, who I could see clearly moments ago, had become a blur. My vision turned hazy. My gaze couldn't even reach her.
"Hrrggkk!!"
Slumping forward, I stared down at the distorted floor beneath me.
My head felt heavier by the second, something warm dripped from my nose, probably blood, and my windpipe felt like it was about to snap.
"You——dare——you —!!"
Ringing.
All I could hear was a high-pitched whine in my ears.
I could tell Waltimar was yelling at me, but I couldn't make out a single word anymore. Just fragments.
And the collar, oh god, the collar was still getting tighter.
I'm going to die.
Like, really die.
And I haven't even started yet.
I didn't even get to finish explaining my idea to Freya.
And now, because of this impatient bastard, I'm on the brink of death. Strangled like some rabid dog.
Death.
I'd never really thought about it before.
Never tasted it.
Never came close to it.
Not even once in my life.
I'd only seen it, through a screen or the pages of fiction, watching soulless characters fall to it like puppets.
But now?
Now it stood right in front of me.
And its hand was already around my throat.
What a joke.
Am I really going to die now?
Right when I took the risk to use my meta-knowledge against Freya?
But like an idiot… I'd focused too much on her.
And I forgot about him.
The bastard who wasn't even in the original novel.
"Y——st——pi—!"
Shut up.
I can't hear you.
I can't see straight.
I can't even think anymore.
All I can see is Freya's luxurious carpet.
The pressure didn't let up. Not even for a second. And before long, I couldn't even stay on one knee anymore.
I collapsed.
Face-first on the floor.
Numb. Everything went numb.
Ahh.. so this is the end, huh?
The story didn't even begin, and I already tripped at the starting line.
Yeah, this world really isn't for me.
Honestly... maybe dying early like this is better than enduring a world like this.
A world where mercy is just a fantasy, and all that matters is money, power, and bloodlines.
For a moment, I really believed I could twist fate.
I thought I could flip the game board.
But who was I kidding?
I'm no hero. I'm not even average. I'm less than average.
Trying to play the protagonist in a world that already decided to torture him from birth?
It was just... stupid.
Maybe suffering was the only way to survive this place.
Maybe I was supposed to suffer.
Endure it. All of it.
So I could one day earn my reward, just like the original protagonist.
Maybe I should have followed the story after all.
Damn it. My pride got me here.
And now…
Now, I get nothing but death.
A cold... choking death.
Fitting, really.
For someone like me.
CLANK!
But just as my body gave up, just as the world drained of color and all I could see was blackness, a miracle struck.
As if someone had opened a dam that was choking a river dry… the collar released.
And without thinking, I gasped.
Dragged in a mountain of air so fast, my numb chest couldn't handle it. My lungs, shriveled like withered flowers, screamed in protest.
"Agh! haaagh!—haaah!!"
I couldn't stop gasping.
Couldn't stop coughing.
It felt like someone had slammed a sledgehammer into my ribs.
Still lying on my face, I looked toward the faintest sound of footsteps moving away.
"Go fetch some water."
A woman's voice.
Calm. Cold.
I turned my head weakly and saw those feet stepping out of the room.
A few seconds passed.
My mind, half-dead a moment ago, slowly came back online.
Freya.
She must've stopped him.
She must've ordered Waltimar to release the collar.
Which means… she might still want to hear me out.
I need to speak.
I have to get up.
With a tremble in my arms, I pushed against the ground, trying to raise myself.
But before I could get far, a sharp pain slammed into the top of my head.
It felt like someone had hooked into my skull and was trying to rip it straight out of my body.
"You..."
A deep, unreadable voice called out.
"What did you just say?"
Looking to the side, I saw her.
Freya.
Kneeling in front of me, her hand twisted tightly in my hair, yanking my head upward.
Her voice didn't waver.
But it had changed.
"Speak," she said again.
Calm. Controlled. But laced with a terrifying force I couldn't name.
Even with my senses dulled, I could feel it.
Her aura.
Something primal in my chest recoiled in terror.
My instincts screamed. My spine stiffened.
And for the first time since being disowned, since losing everything,
I was afraid.
Utterly.
Truly.
Afraid.
And the worst part?
I hadn't even looked her in the eyes yet.
Because the moment I did..
I knew she'd devour me whole.
How ironic.
I didn't expect Freya to respond rationally, but what I'm seeing now? It's completely out of bounds.
I figured she'd get angry or at least react unpleasantly, but this... this was definitely not part of the plan.
Not that I spent days plotting this out or anything, it all happened in the heat of the moment.
A moment when I just wanted to survive.
To live.
"Aren't you going to say something?"
Her voice came sharp, irritated, annoyed once again.
And I felt her fingers tug harder on my hair, a not-so-subtle threat.
God, this woman doesn't know when to shut up and just listen.
Without thinking, a broken, lopsided smile crept onto my face.
Slowly, I raised my trembling hand and placed it gently on the one she was using to hold my head. Then, I looked up,vstraight into her burning eyes.
"You honor me too much… Your Majesty Freya..."
That... might've been the final straw.
"!!"
In the very next second, she yanked her hand away and, faster than I could register, landed a vicious kick right to my face.
Something definitely cracked.
"You sluttish!" she screamed in rage.
I flew a short distance, crashed onto my back, and coughed several times, my whole face throbbing with pain.
Staring up at the white ceiling, I blinked slowly.
"...What an honor, indeed ." I muttered weakly, finally feeling my senses trickle back into my body.
Thankfully, nothing was broken, and somehow, I could breathe again.
"Honestly... some things really can only be solved this way." I mumbled, sitting up and crossing my legs in front of the noblewoman, who was now wiping her left hand with a cloth, wearing the most disgusted expression that nearly made me laugh.
"What's so funny? you degenerate. Do you enjoy pissing me off that much?"
Her voice was calm, but it dripped with hatred, pure venom, laced with a very real desire to murder me.
Still smiling, I calmly wiped the blood running from my nose.
Think logically.
Sure, her reaction might've been a bit... extreme.
But it wasn't completely out of line.
Or better yet, this was perfect.
I'd created the exact moment I needed from the start.
And now, it was just us two. No one else.
Stay calm.
I need to make the most of this. This moment will decide everything.
My fate. My future.
Panic has no place here. None at all.
After taking a soft breath, I relaxed my shoulders while keeping my seated posture, then looked Freya in the eyes once more.
"First, I want to confirm that I know something about you, something no one else does." I raised a finger, smiling. "Second, no matter what I say next, you have to hear me out until the end. Because honestly? I don't think I can survive another kick like that." I gestured toward my face sarcastically, the same face that was still screaming in pain, yet also strangely grateful she didn't use any kind of magical enhancement to boost her strike.
I paused for a bit, letting my words simmer. Letting her cool down.
As I watched the color return to her face, I delivered my third and final condition, one that she was definitely not going to like.
"And third... Yes. I know exactly where that pendant is. And I plan to hand it over, just if you respect the second condition and give me a bit of privacy here. With you."
I glanced toward the door as I finished that sentence, just in time to hear approaching footsteps.
Then I turned back to Freya, who squinted slightly and glanced toward the door too… before locking her eyes back on me.
Yes... feel that tension. Like the opportunity's slipping through your fingers.
You're not used to this, are you?
Being out of control.
I bet you hate it.
You despise it.
I'm sure,absolutely sure,that right now, you're filled with so much loathing and contempt, your brain is telling you not to believe a word I say. That this filthy mongrel who tried to defile you just now deserves nothing but punishment.
That he needs to be disciplined, taught exactly who he's dealing with.
No doubt, I'm playing with fire here. Stepping dangerously close to the path the protagonist took when he accidentally unlocked her sadistic side, turning her attention completely on him.
But unless I push this far, brush that edge that threatens to consume me, I'll never pull this off.
No reward without risk. Especially here.
Still seated, still smiling, I kept that same presence. That same energy. Trying to raise myself just enough to make her look up. Make her twist her own left arm behind her back metaphorically, just to keep up.
And then, I saw it.
She exhaled deeply and shut her eyes for just a moment.
"Don't come in, Waltimar."
Those words slipped from her lips the second the doorknob turned.
And for some reason,perhaps sensing something in her tone I didn't, Waltimar, the same man who usually talked back to her without a care, didn't enter the room.
Turning gracefully on her heel, she caused her black dress to ripple around her.
That dress..
It revealed the top of her chest and traced up her neck, where a pendant the color of her hair rested elegantly.
Whoever designed that dress had an eye for detail.
They'd added little jewel-like decorations across the fabric, giving it a refined, stylish touch that screamed Freya. And yet, it was bold, too. The kind of dress that, with every step, revealed her entire right leg from the ankle up to mid-thigh.
That leg, creamy, smooth, and uncomfortably perfect.
Yeah, I was absolutely enchanted by her face at first, couldn't focus on anything else. And after being forced to bow for so long, I hadn't even noticed what she was wearing.
Only after she kicked me halfway to death did my brain reset and remind me who I was dealing with.
Yeah, I needed to focus better than this.
Or I'll really end up as someone's prey.
Listening to the sharp tap of her heels as she walked gracefully toward the large desk, I didn't even have time to admire how her hips swayed in that infuriatingly seductive rhythm before she turned around again and leaned back against it.
Crossing her arms beneath her chest, she locked eyes with me.
That look said it all:
Talk. I'm listening.
Oh.
It took me a few seconds to really process it.
Freya, that Freya, the one who doesn't care what anyone says because she already knows it all, was now looking at me with... curiosity?
Interest.
Suspicion.
Those eyes.. they weren't empty this time.
Seeing them like that, I couldn't help but widen my smile and sigh, shaking my head in disbelief before locking gazes with her again.
Here we go now.