The scream was almost musical. Blood poured from his nose, and judging by the angle and sound, he had probably cracked the bone.
Zora felt a strange satisfaction bloom in her chest. You killed the original owner. Consider this interest.
Philip groaned, clutching his face. The pain made his vision swim, and his eyes filled with hatred.
"Your Highness!" Luna, her own face swollen into a pig's head, crawled toward him. "Are you alright?"
The two of them looked at each other, both with blood dripping from their noses. It would've been touching if it wasn't so ridiculously pathetic.
"Damn it!" Philip roared. He whipped around and rushed at Zora, grabbing her by the neck with shaky hands. "Zora! Did you do this?!"
She lifted her trembling hands and clutched his wrists, blinking innocently. "Your Highness, I... I didn't do anything."
His anger surged, but even he wouldn't strike the daughter of the General openly, especially after she'd just attempted suicide. All he could do was release her and spit out a furious, "Useless thing!"
She coughed from the pressure on her neck, rubbing the skin lightly. Then she tilted her head, voice soft but steady. "Your Highness, you must be embarrassed, right?"
Both Philip and Luna stiffened.
Zora continued calmly, "I heard this yard was haunted. I didn't believe it before, but this kind of strange falling happens all the time here."
Luna's face twitched. "W-what do you mean?"
"I grew up here. Things move on their own. People fall. I never told anyone because no one cared enough to ask." She looked at her sister with a hopeful, pitiful expression that wasn't entirely fake. "Sister can you help me? Please ask Father to move me to a different yard?"
The moment the words fell, Luna froze.
Of course, she didn't want that. The ruined courtyard was perfect for making Zora suffer. But she also hated entering the place—every time she stepped inside, a cold shiver crept up her back.
Still, helping her sister? Absolutely not.
"Sister, I'll try," Luna said softly, twisting her features into a difficult expression. "But you know it might not work."
Zora lowered her eyes, hiding the cold amusement glittering beneath.
Exactly the answer I expected.
*
Luna kept smiling sweetly at Philip, acting gentle and helpless, pushing every decision onto the General while keeping her own hands spotless. She really was skilled—appearing kind while planting every knife behind someone else's back.
Philip didn't care enough to notice. He waved his hand impatiently. "Luna, why bother worrying about that useless girl? Let's go. I don't want to spend another second here."
He clutched his bleeding nose, face twisted in pain. His pride hurt even more than his body. No prince in history had ever looked so pathetic—nosebleeding, stumbling, covered in dust from falling twice.
They left in a hurry, nearly tripping again as they rushed out.
Only after the door shut did Zora let her expression fall. Her eyes sharpened—cold, steady, and razor-thin.
You two wanted to crush the original me? Good. I'll return everything a thousand times over.
The small revenge today was only interest. Real repayment would come later.
After all, she had never been someone easy to bully.
She sat cross-legged to check her condition. According to the body's memories, she had been judged a waste at age five. Her meridians were damaged. Her mana core had been declared destroyed.
But when she examined it carefully, her breath caught.
Her mana core had repaired itself—smooth, whole, and faintly glowing.
She didn't know why or how, but it didn't matter. What mattered was that she had a chance to rise again.
Once she regained her strength, she would no longer be in a passive, helpless position. And after today's chaos, Luna and Philip wouldn't dare bother her too soon.
She was just about to begin meditation when—
"This Philip is really disgusting!"
"And that Luna is even more shameless!"
The two sudden voices made her snap upright. She froze, eyes darting around the room. She was alone. Absolutely alone.
"Who's there?" She narrowed her eyes, alert and cautious.
No one replied to her question. Instead, the two voices kept bickering, getting louder.
"I told you, Philip is the gross one!"
"I told YOU, Luna is worse!"
"Philip is hateful!"
"Luna is hateful!"
Zora's eyebrow twitched. She raised her voice sharply, "Both of them are hateful! Stop fighting!"
"Humph!"
"Humph!"
Two annoyed snorts echoed in the empty room—and the voices finally quieted.
She exhaled, half relieved, half confused. "Who are you? Come out!"
A soft, childish voice answered, sounding wronged, "Master, why are you so fierce?"
"Yeah! And you aren't letting us out. How are we supposed to come out?" the second voice added.
"Master?" Zora blinked. "Let you out?"
"Yes!"
"Yes!"
She scanned the room. "Where exactly are you?"
"We're in your ring, Master! The Ring of Chaos!"
Her eyes snapped to the black vintage ring on her finger—the same ring that brought her here. So it wasn't ordinary at all.
"Master," the voice continued, "you can enter the inner space. Just connect your spirit to the ring."
She hesitated for only a moment before focusing. Her consciousness touched the ring—and the world spun.
Light flashed and she found herself standing in a vast, majestic realm.
A palace loomed ahead, towering and ancient, carved from black and white stone that intertwined like yin and yang. Sacred pressure rolled through the air, heavy enough to stir her heartbeat.
It felt ancient. Eternal. Like it had watched the rise and fall of worlds.
She stood small and powerless before it, yet her eyes shone with awe.
"So this is the world inside the Ring of Chaos, incredible."
She had known of storage bags before—small inner spaces for carrying items. But this? A ring holding an entire dimension? This was on a completely different level.
A deep rumbling echoed.
Boom—
The palace doors opened, slow and solemn, as if no hand had touched them for thousands of years.
She stepped inside.
A vast hall stretched endlessly before her, walls carved with strange patterns that seemed to move when she wasn't looking. Black and white light blended around her, harmonizing like the balance of heaven and earth.
Two side corridors led deeper into the palace.
Then the familiar childish voices rang out again.
"Master! Master!"
She turned—and her breath stopped for a second.
Two small creatures were rolling toward her across the shining floor.
Not walking.
Not flying.
Rolling.
Round, black-and-white, fluffy creatures tumbling like balls straight in her direction.