I stretched my back, muscles taut from the last trial, and let my eyes sweep over the garden. The scent of morning dew still lingered, a soft fragrance woven into the cool breeze brushing against my cheek. A familiar stillness settled over the world—peaceful, fleeting.
"Maybe I'll take a few more laps around the garden before heading back inside," I murmured, more to myself than anyone else.
I moved with practiced ease, the sound of my footsteps swallowed by the soft earth beneath. My breaths came in a slow rhythm, syncing with the rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds perched atop high walls.
There was something about this place. The way the colours of the flowers burned vividly even under muted sunlight. The gentle, lazy wind. It wrapped around my shoulders like a forgotten lullaby, one I had no choice but to leave behind soon.
After a few peaceful laps, I headed back in. The stillness clung to me like a second skin. But the silence never lasted.
Six months.
Fifty trials.
A hundred injuries.
Too many nightmares to count.
I collapsed onto the hard ground, limbs aching, head foggy from exhaustion. My back pressed against the unyielding floor, and my eyes locked on the ceiling above—blank and eternal, like the sky of a world I had yet to reach.
"Ugh... 394 tests to go," I muttered.
My voice was quiet. Tired.
Every syllable felt like a stone on my chest.
Bang!
The sound of a door slamming open jolted me upright like a whip to the back. I turned. And there she was—Lady Nozomi, aura blazing as always, like a typhoon dressed in velvet.
Once, I used to flinch.
Now…
Now I just blinked and sat up.
Lady Nozomi rushed in, eyes gleaming, her energy already filling the space like a tidal wave. Without warning, she pulled me upright.
"Stop lazing around. Master wants to see you."
I blinked. "Huh? Masta wants to see me?"
That was rare. Alarming. Interesting.
Nozomi nodded like a bobblehead. "Yup! Now hurry. Master is waiting for you."
My brain clicked into gear. Thoughts scattered, then reassembled with precision. I brushed off the fatigue clinging to my bones and followed her down the hallway.
I stepped into the chamber.
Master sat there like a painting given life—calm, composed, sipping tea from a porcelain cup with fingers that could snap necks as easily as they held flowers.
With a bow, I stepped forward. Then smiled wide. "I'm here, Masta. Miss me?"
She set the teacup down. A glint of amusement flickered behind her eyes.
"Someone trying to be cheeky, hmm?"
I chuckled, warmth blooming inside my chest like a quiet ember. Sitting across from her, I let myself relax. Just a little.
My gaze lingered. I remembered our first meeting—how I was too captivated by the folds of her robes to remember basic etiquette. The second time, I actually managed to look her in the eyes. That was when I learned.
Master wasn't just wise.
She wasn't just strong.
She was beautiful—an almost dangerous kind of beauty, like a flame dancing in still water. But what drew me in wasn't the surface. It was the gravity. The quiet pull of someone who had seen too much and endured more.
I was still staring when her voice cracked through my thoughts.
"It's rude to keep staring at people's faces, little chipmunk."
I jolted. "Why do Masta call me a chipmunk? Because I'm cute?" I posed dramatically, puffing up my cheeks.
Master let out a rare laugh, covering her mouth with her sode (sleeve). "Not just because you're cute, Llyne. It's because when you eat, your two cheeks puff up like a chipmunk storing nuts for the winter."
I groaned. "I don't like to be called chipmunk."
Master tilted her head. "How about a shrew? It's small and cute."
Shrew?
That didn't sound innocent. That sounded like a trap. I narrowed my eyes. "...A shrew, huh?"
She nodded with almost too much joy.
"Nah," I deadpanned. "I don't want to be called a shrew."
She slammed the table. "Why not?"
I gave her a flat look. "Judging from your reaction, I guess it's not an adorable animal."
Master pouted. "That's not true. Shrews are actually sweet and lovable creatures, despite their voracious appetite. They eat three times their own weight and can't survive more than two hours without food. But they're still endearing."
I flailed my hands. "I'm not like that, Masta! Yeah, I eat a lot, but I'm not a gluttonous beast who devours everything in sight!"
Master folded her arms. "What? Have you forgotten what's been happening the past few months? You've been raiding the fridge every night. What happened to that 'healthy diet' you promised to maintain, hmm?"
Her glare pinned me like a sword through my chest. I yelped and crawled under the table in retreat.
From above, Master declared with wicked glee, "Shrew of the House of Aum. Or little Llyne Shrew. It has a nice ring to it."
I smacked my head against the table. "Master isn't going to change her mind, huh…"
Desperately, I looked at Lady Nozomi.
Thumbs up. Grinning.
Traitor. Betrayer!
Master clapped once. Like the start of a spell. "Enough with the chit chat. Let's focus on the main topic."
I sulked. "I still ain't a shrew…"
"Alright, alright. I was just joking. Don't pout too much, or you'll grow old faster," Master teased.
Well, not like she has much of a choice.
Master's lips curled into a sinister smile, a glint of unchecked amusement flickering in her eyes.
I'm the Master. She's the slave. That means I can call her whatever I want... Mwahahahaha!
Looks like she's not going to stop, I thought, noticing the creepy grin stretching across her face.
A cold sweat ran down my neck.
I looked back at Nozomi. She looked... confused. And vaguely disturbed.
Yeah. Same, girl. Same.
"Fine," I said, giving up with a long sigh.
Master's grin sharpened. "Now that that's all settled."
Before I could brace myself, she and Nozomi summoned a flurry of party items from thin air. Hats. Cakes. Balloons. Pop. Confetti.
The room turned festive faster than my brain could process.
"Wah! What's all this for?"
"Congratulations on passing 50 tests!" Nozomi beamed, lighting the candles.
I stared at the cake, then back at them.
"...Do we really need to celebrate for something like this?"
Master chuckled, sipping tea like it was wine.
"Well, to be honest, the celebration is more for me than for you. It's been quite some time since a disciple managed to complete 50 tests."
I paled. "Oui… What did you do to them? Devour them?"
"Anyways, you still have 394 tests remaining," Master said, utterly unbothered. "How have the tests been thus far? Easier? Harder?"
I straightened. Her tone had shifted. I could feel it.
"Initially, they were brutal. Fever. Fainting. Allergies. Dizziness. Sleepless nights. I thought I'd die after every test. But now, I've adapted. I've grown. These days, I can finish multiple tests in one go."
A grin split my face. I threw up a victory sign.
"I see. That's great. If not..."
Master smiled.
"...you'd most probably die."
"...Eh? Die? Why? Did I miss something here?"
Master set her cup down with the finality of a judgment.
"Before you, I had several people who took the test. But they died. Horribly. I always wondered why. So I checked their conditions before each stage. Turns out, if they had too much trouble in the previous one... they didn't make it to the next."
"That's all," she said, like she hadn't just dropped a boulder on my chest.
That's all...?
I froze.
So the moment I fall behind, even slightly…
Death.
No retries. No do-overs.
Just death.
"...I see..."
I mumbled the words, but inside, the gears in my mind were spinning.
Fifty down.
Three hundred ninety-four to go.
And each one could be my last.