'Where am I?'
I blinked my eyes open, finding myself in a room I couldn't comprehend, my body heavy and numb as if it no longer belonged to me.I tried to move, only to realize I was bound tightly to a pillar, half-naked, with bandages wrapped around my stomach.
'Damn it, what the hell is this? I can't even move.'
"You're awake?"
A raspy voice came from the darkness ahead. Slowly, a silhouette emerged from the shadows.
'Who are you?!'
I swallowed hard. My throat was so dry it felt like sandpaper—I couldn't even form proper words.
"You are a candidate," the voice continued. "A body that cannot be destroyed. A will that refuses to break. And most importantly…"
I felt wrinkled hands cup my face.
"…your face."
'Shit. Who is this guy? I can't even see him clearly.'
Then, he yanked on a rope hanging beside him. A lantern swung down, spilling sickly light across the chamber. My eyes widened as his face came into view.
"Do you understand your situation now?" he sneered.
His withered, gray skin was as pale as a corpse. Sparse tufts of hair clung desperately to his scalp, and a long, unkempt white beard dangled down his chest. He wore long black robes that dragged across the floor like a funeral shroud.
Only then did I notice the room—littered with skulls, hollow eye sockets, and grotesque remains scattered about like trophies.
"Welcome to my sanctum."
'No… don't tell me. This bastard is the necromancer villain of this arc—Regman.'
"Now that you're awake, I can resume."
"W-what are you trying to do?" I forced the words out, my voice cracking. "Why tie me up? Let me go!"
"Ckckck…" He clicked his tongue and grabbed my chin, forcing me to meet his lifeless gaze.
"You will be my next vessel." His grin stretched unnaturally wide.
'W-what?!'
No way. No, no, no. This couldn't be happening. Why did I have to get tangled up with this lunatic? And—his appearance… It was wrong. In the novel, Regman looked younger, healthier.
Then it hit me.
This was too early. In the story, he hadn't yet swapped bodies. Which meant… this was his decaying, original form.
Regman, the crazed necromancer, cursed the Helming family line for generations, condemning Sera to an eternal slumber and driving Xerta to desperation. This desperation led him to an illegal organization, and ultimately, to bloodshed when he realized he had been deceived. Xerta, now cold and merciless, unleashed his vengeance, slaughtering everyone involved and dragging noble houses into ruin. That's how it was in the novel.
And now… here I was. Regman next target.
'Damn it. Why me?! Why am I stuck in this situation?!'
"Wait!" I blurted. "What do you mean by making me your vessel? Are you sure? Me? I'm nothing! I'm not even suited for that—you'll regret it!"
"Oh?" His eyes narrowed, amused. "Why say that? I already know you're perfect. You killed that wyvern—brutally. And you didn't even die after doing it."
'That was pure dumb luck, you bastard. Stop glorifying me!'
"Listen, old man! Are you sure you want to pick me? I don't even have mana! You'll be stuck in this useless body forever if you choose me!"
Regman paused. For a moment, hope sparked in me—had I shaken his confidence?
But then he slapped my shoulder with eerie delight. "So you did all that without mana? Splendid. All the more reason to hasten the assimilation."
'…Shit.'
"You'll regret this!!" I shouted.
He leaned in, eyes gleaming with disdain. "And what exactly can you do, bound like that?"
My blood boiled. I wanted nothing more than to grab his filthy beard and rip it off his face.
Then—
THUD!
A loud crash echoed from outside the chamber. Both Regman and I snapped our heads toward the sound.
"Hm… rats?" he muttered, narrowing his eyes.
I glared daggers at him, but he only smirked and patted my cheek. "I'll be back, my vessel."
'Disgusting bastard!'
With that, he shuffled out of the room.
I twisted against my bindings, desperate to find any way to loosen them. My wrists burned, shoulders aching from being tied above my head in this damned vertical position.
'Shit, shit, shit… Think! I have to get out of here!'
The sound of stumbling footsteps drew nearer. My heart sank—I was sure Regman had returned.
But then…
From the darkness ahead, two familiar figures emerged cautiously.
Nicholas And Sera.
"Nick!! Noona!"
"Shhh!" they hushed me in unison, eyes darting nervously. Nicholas rushed over, carefully undoing the ropes that bound me.
At last, my arms fell free, tingling from numbness. I clutched them, grimacing as sensation returned.
"How… how did you even get here?" I whispered hoarsely.
"Ask her," Nicholas muttered dryly, casting a pointed look at Sera as if recalling something troublesome she'd done before.
**
A short while ago, before the wyverns appeared.
Nicholas had just finished wiping away the snow clinging to his hair after their snowball fight. His breath still steamed in the cold air as he changed into fresh clothes and stepped outside. The chill of winter still clung faintly to his skin, sharp and invigorating.
That was when he noticed her.
Sera stood alone in the courtyard, her silver hair glinting faintly under the pale light. However, she wasn't quiet; instead, she was muttering under her breath, her lips forming words that the chilly wind snatched away. She spoke as though to someone unseen, as though a figure only she could perceive stood right before her.
"Is this warning… truly real?" Her voice trembled with doubt.
Nicholas froze, curiosity prickling along his spine. He stepped closer silently until the words became clear.
"You're saying this will happen? Hah… of course the system wouldn't show kindness to someone it dragged into this world."
Her tone turned bitter, frustrated, before hardening into resolve. "There's no other choice. I must carry out the plan."
Nicholas's jaw tightened.
'What is she plotting?'
He never trusted Sera. To him, she was two-faced—beautiful, refined on the surface, but steeped in schemes beneath. No matter if she was the Duke's sister or whatever noble title she bore, it didn't matter. He disliked her all the same.
'And worse… for reasons I can't comprehend, Keith seems utterly captivated by her.'
Sera nodded to the empty air, then whispered as though answering some unseen voice, "Then, I hope you'll come with me there, Sera."
Nicholas frowned.
'Is she… talking to herself?'
She turned, her expression impassive, and walked off. Nicholas's instinct flared—he had to follow. But just as he was about to step after her—
"Your Highness, where are you going?" Rubert's voice cut across the courtyard.
"Just a moment, Rubert. There's something I need to check." Nicholas didn't wait for more questions. He darted away, boots crunching over the snow.
He ran, searching for traces of her, his senses sharpening with each breath. Then, a chill different from the winter air slithered against his skin. Familiar. Sinister. Something that he'd known since childhood.
'Damn it… dark essence. From the southeast.'
"Don't tell me that woman went there…"
His pulse quickened. A place tainted by dark essence was no place to wander, least of all for someone who had only recently woken from a dangerous curse. According to Xerta, her body would be more sensitive than ever. What if she became tainted?
He pushed deeper into the forest, but instead of Sera, he stumbled across the lifeless body of a deer, its eyes glassy, its flesh already seared by corruption.
"Were you following me?" He heard a whisper directly in his ear.
Nicholas flinched, spinning around.
There she was. Sera stood barely an arm's length away, her face blank, her golden eyes unreadable.
"You—! You startled me. Why are you here?"
"Shouldn't I ask you the same? You felt it, didn't you?"
Nicholas faltered. She had sensed it too. He wanted to question her, to demand what she knew—but his pride pushed back. Instead, he snapped, "When I ask you a question, you should answer, not throw it back at me."
Sera tilted her head, calm and unruffled. "Lord Nicholas, I am curious why you followed me… but more than that, I'm curious why Lord Keith calls you Nick."
Nicholas blinked. Why would she bring that up now?
Her gaze pierced into him as though peeling back his defenses, and it unsettled him enough to avert his eyes.
"Do you realize who you're speaking to? I am a prince. Technically, I carry royal blood. You should watch your tone before you—"
"Before I what?" she interrupted, steady, almost challenging.
"Before you—"
A thunderous roar that shook the air swallowed the rest. It stabbed into their ears, a sound so raw and violent that they instinctively covered them.
"What was that?" Nicholas muttered.
Sera's eyes darted upward. Her pupils shrank.
"So it's true… a pack of wyverns is coming."
"W-what?!"
Nicholas followed her gaze, heart pounding. Dark silhouettes streaked across the sky, wings vast, scales glinting under the dying light. Blackened tendrils of dark essence coiled around their bodies, as if the corruption itself fueled them.
"Something must have drawn them here… using dark essence?"
"That doesn't matter now. Wouldn't it be better to run?"
"You're right!" Nicholas grabbed her hand and tried to flee, but a wyvern crashed down in front of them, snow spraying up from the force. He spun the other way—only for another to slam into the ground, blocking their path.
'Damn it… we're trapped.'
"If we can't run," Sera said evenly, "then we fight."
Nicholas stared at her.
'Is this woman insane?' He clenched his fists—he wasn't sure he could even take down one.
"I know you're still hiding something," Sera suddenly shouted over the wyverns' roars.
His eyes snapped to her. What is she talking about?
Her serious expression didn't waver.
Nicholas's chest tightened. Yes, he was hiding something. His cunning. His true strength. The part of him that nobody here knew. But how—how did she seem so certain?
'Damn it.'
He thrust an arm out, stepping in front of her protectively.
"Don't you dare tell anyone what you see today."
Mana surged through him, causing water to coil around his hand and condense into a gleaming arrow. He fired with a sharp gesture, the arrow piercing the wyvern's eye. The creature shrieked in agony and staggered, but then he formed another arrow, and another, each striking true.
He twisted his wrist; the water shifted, spiraling into the shape of a deadly boomerang. With a swift throw, it whirled through the air, slicing through wyverns in a wide arc before returning to his hand in a splash.
The beasts hit the ground, their bodies impacting with earth-shaking thuds. This display was his art of magic, a hidden style he employed only as N, the leader of Norven. The full extent of his mastery was a secret he intended to keep.
Sera clapped softly beside him. Yet her smile… it didn't reach her eyes.
"Well done, Your Highness. Remarkable."
Nicholas's glare was sharp as a blade. "Listen carefully. If you tell anyone about this, you'll share the wyverns' fate."
Sera glanced at the fallen beasts, then back at him. She raised her thumb in a mockery of reassurance.
"My lips will remain sealed."
'Why does she's not sound serious at all?'
Even as her words lingered, Nicholas felt it again—the dark essence, pulsing, thicker, stronger. His heart quickened. This was no coincidence.
He recalled experiencing this sensation previously, a subtle feeling in the church before the wedding commenced. He had dismissed it then and nearly paid with his life.
'This time… I need to trace it. Find its source.'
"I need to investigate. You should return to your castle—"
But when he turned—Sera was gone. Vanished, as if the snow itself had swallowed her.
'Where did she go now?'