The royal carriage rattled over the cobblestone road, flanked by knights in polished armor. Above, the twin banners of the Radiant Empire fluttered in the gentle evening breeze—golden wings on crimson cloth. Everything about the procession screamed wealth, power, and dignity.
Naturally, I had chosen this moment to drop in on them.
From the treetops, I observed the glittering convoy moving through the forest path below. Lanterns dangled from the sides of the carriage, illuminating the carved sigils of the royal crest. The knights marched in formation, completely oblivious to the fact that a predator far beyond their comprehension perched above them.
I narrowed my eyes.
This was the event.
In my previous life—the pathetic one—I had stumbled onto this scene purely by accident. A group of assassins ambushed the convoy, slaughtered the knights, and killed the princess inside. One week later, the kingdom fell into war. Cities burned. Millions died. I died.
This time, I intended to use the moment for my own benefit.
Saving the princess?No, no, no. That wasn't the plan at all.
I planned to let her die.
Just… not in the way she did last time.
After all, a corpse was worth far more to me than a living noble.
"System," I murmured."Activate Soul-Thread Capture."
A soft chime echoed in my head.
[Ding! Soul-Thread Capture armed. The next humanoid death within 200 meters will have its soul secured.]
Excellent. Very convenient.
"Now…" I stretched lazily on the branch, "let's watch history repeat itself."
As if on cue, shadows moved between the trees on the opposite side of the road. Cloaked figures—six of them—stepped silently into formation, their blades glinting faintly in the lantern light.
The knights noticed too late.
"Ambush! Shield wall!" a captain yelled.
But the assassins were fast—professionals.
Two knights dropped instantly, throats slit in a single blur of movement. The escorts formed up, shields locking together, spears pointed outward.
Metal clashed. Sparks flew.
I watched idly, resisting the urge to yawn.
In my last life, watching this fight had terrified me. I'd hidden behind a rock, trembling like a wet puppy. Now? Now I was bored. These knights weren't impressive, and the assassins lacked flair. If anything, they were slow.
Still, their deaths were necessary.
One assassin flipped into the air, landing atop the carriage. He sliced through the wooden roof, and I heard a feminine scream echo inside.
Right on schedule.
My lips curled into a smirk.
The princess—Elara Radiantheart—should have died in the next ten seconds. A short life. Barely eighteen. A pretty face wasted by political conflict she never asked for.
But this time… she would serve a far greater purpose.
I leaned forward.And waited.
The assassin stabbed downward, blade piercing the princess's chest.
Her scream cut off.
A faint shimmer—almost invisible—floated upward from the carriage. A glowing thread, delicate and pale, drifting like a wisp of smoke toward me.
[Ding! Soul captured successfully.]
Perfect.
The assassins finished their job quickly, executing the remaining knights and tossing torches onto the carriage. Flames spread across the wooden frame.
When they vanished into the forest, only burning wreckage remained.
"Alright," I murmured. "Time to collect my reward."
I stepped off the tree branch—and landed silently beside the smoldering carriage. The princess's body lay half-charred, her silver hair stained with blood. Her violet eyes stared lifelessly at the sky.
She was beautiful, even in death.
"What a waste," I said, crouching beside her. "But don't worry, princess. You'll be far more useful than you ever were alive."
I touched her forehead.
"Shadow Command—Raise."
Dark mist poured from my hand, sinking into her corpse like ink seeping through paper.
Her body twitched.Once.Twice.
Then her eyes snapped open—not violet anymore, but glowing midnight black with a faint purple ring.
She rose slowly, kneeling in front of me, head lowered in submission.
"Master…" Her voice was soft, ethereal, reverent.
I smiled. "Welcome back, Princess Elara."
She bowed deeply, one hand over her chest."I exist to serve."
"Excellent. Now then…" I scanned the destroyed convoy. "Let's get out of here. We've got a kingdom to manipulate."
I turned, expecting her to follow silently like a good undead minion.
Instead—
"Um… M-Master?" she said hesitantly.
I paused.
I turned back.
Elara was staring at her burnt dress with a mortified expression.
"It's… indecent," she whispered.
Her dress had indeed been torn from the fight and partially burnt away, leaving more skin exposed than covered.
I blinked.
"Princess, you're dead."
"I still have dignity!"
Oh, right. I had forgotten one thing: my raised shadows retained fragments of their original personality unless I forcibly erased them.
Elara was apparently still very conscious of her appearance, even in undeath.
She covered her chest with her arms and glared at me.
"Don't look!"
I rubbed my temples. "Elara, you're a shadow now. You shouldn't care about—"
"I do care!" she insisted, cheeks somehow flushing despite having no heartbeat.
I stared at her.
She stared back.
A breeze drifted through the forest.
"…Fine," I sighed. "I'll get you a cloak."
She brightened. "Thank you, Master!"
I snapped my fingers and summoned a Shadow Cloak—pure darkness woven into fabric. I draped it over her, and she pulled it tightly around herself, transforming instantly from embarrassed corpse to elegant undead princess.
She twirled once.
"It feels… oddly comfortable."
"It should. It's literally made from shadows."
She nodded, satisfied.
"Now," I said, "let's move. We don't want scavengers finding us."
But as we walked through the moonlit forest, a question burned in my mind.
"Elara," I said.
"Yes, Master?" she replied sweetly.
"Why do you still have emotions?"
She paused, touching her chest."I… don't know. I feel… tethered. Like part of me belongs to you now."
"Well, obviously."
"No," she said, shaking her head. "It's more than obedience. I feel…" She hesitated.
I raised a brow.
"Say it."
"…safe." Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"Safe?" I laughed. "Princess, I'm a villain."
"Perhaps," she said softly. "But you're my villain."
I froze.
What.
WHAT?
Did a corpse just confess to me?
I coughed, pretending I hadn't heard that.
"Elara, don't get attached. You're undead. Emotions complicate things."
"Then I shall do my best not to disappoint you… Master."
I sighed.
I had created a monster.
And for once, not the good kind.
We walked deeper into the forest, moving toward the abandoned watchtower that would soon serve as my temporary base. The moon cast pale light through the branches, and shadows curled around my feet, swirling eagerly like loyal dogs.
Elara followed silently behind me, the shadow cloak billowing softly.
Everything was going according to plan.
A dead princess under my control.A soul secured.A kingdom destined to crumble.
And I, the reincarnated villain, was finally walking the path I had been denied in my previous life.
The world didn't know it yet—but it would.Soon, everyone would.
Tonight was just the first step.