The room they had given me was small but mine. A modest little chamber tucked just a few doors from Regina's, with a single bed, a desk, a wardrobe, and just enough quiet to think. Compared to everything else in this world—cult rituals, knights pointing swords at me, a sociopathic noble brat with heterochromic eyes—this place was a blessing. I had privacy. I had peace.
I had questions.
The System had been silent ever since Regina named me "Luna" after I took a dagger for her. I hadn't even meant to move. One moment I was walking with her, vaguely aware of her humming, and the next, I'd intercepted an attack, disarmed a lunatic, and stabbed him with his own blade. All while being subtly puppeteered by the girl who then casually handed me a name like it was a dog tag.
And now… here I was, sitting on my bed, exhausted, full of lamb soup and dread. The translucent blue screen floated before me, flickering like a ghost trapped in its own light.
User Status
Name: Luna
Age: 16
Class: ???
Attributes
Strength: 8
Intelligence: 15
Agility: 7
Endurance: 18
Health: 98 / 100
Mana: 100
Level: 6
EXP: 1000 / 1500
Alignment: Random
Protocol: Scholar's Mate – Active
User can summon, possess, and use 1 Pawn. Note: Mana is tied to stamina.
Abilities
White Pawn Summoning – Level 1
Possession (In development)
I stared. The word Pawn felt heavier now. Not just some video game mechanic—but a power. A symbol. A role.
"Hey, System," I whispered, voice low, "Who was Regina's mother?"
No immediate reply.
"Is the church a serious threat? I haven't seen a single cathedral or priest… which is weird if they're powerful. Do they even know I'm here?"
Still nothing.
I sighed and slumped into the bedsheets. Then:
[Pawn Activated – You may now summon a White Pawn. Choose to summon or integrate its stats. Note: Integration is temporary and drains stamina. Summoning draws on mana. World mana may sustain the unit after invocation.]
"Summon pawn," I whispered.
The room dimmed.
Blue light gathered and fractured the air like someone had cracked a mirror in reality itself. Out stepped… me. Or something very close.
Same face. Same eyes. But regal. Confident. Wearing a deep blue doublet trimmed in silver, a plumed helmet tucked under one arm, and a short sword at her side.
She looked at me with calm, courteous eyes.
Pawn – The Ambitious Footman
HP: 60
Attack: 12
Defense: 8
Speed: 14
Magic Resistance: 6
Mana Cost: 1 (Low)
Weapon: Iron Short Sword + Round Buckler
Appearance: Deep blue velvet, crest of a silver moon, leather boots, thin iron cuirass
Special Skills:
Interlock Formation (Passive)
Echo of Ambition (Passive)
"You summoned me," she said, voice gentle, but sure. Like me if I'd grown up noble instead of corporate. "No need to panic. I've accessed your memory to catch up. You've had… quite a time."
"Wait. You can access my memories?"
"Not all. Just the surface. Enough to orient myself and be of use. It's part of the pawn bond. We exist to serve the Scholar's strategy."
"Right," I muttered. "And those… skins?"
Pawn Skins: Roman Legionnaire, Spartan Hoplite, Gurkha, Samurai, Modern Infantry… [Locked]
Only "Basic" was unlocked.
I sat back, watching her stretch like she hadn't existed before now. She smiled, like someone who'd been waiting a long time to be born.
"There's more going on than you know," she said, tone casual, but serious. "Someone built this system. Shaped its rules. And left pieces of themselves behind."
"You're saying…"
"I'm saying," she said, her smile softening, "that Regina's mother—the Countess—might've known more about all this than anyone else alive. Including you."
A chill passed through me.
"I think she was like you," the pawn added. "Another transmigrator. One who played the game a little too well… and paid the price."
And just like that, my room didn't feel so cozy anymore.
I had a name now. I had a power. And somewhere in this twisted board of castles, knives, and gods pretending not to look—someone had played this game before me.
Checkmate, huh?
Whose move is it now?