In the hazy morning light, Sersis opened his eyes.
He raised a hand to block the sunlight streaming in.
It was the hand of a young girl—slender, pale, and delicate, exuding an air of frailty and illness.
“Hah… that awful dream again.”
The girl lying on the wooden cot murmured to herself.
Her voice was clear as a spring, but tinged with weariness.
Sersis—though he was no longer called that.
At the moment his body died and his soul was about to scatter, he was swept up in a current of darkness and somehow ended up inside a girl named Selitia.
The girl’s life had already reached its end, but Sersis’s arrival sparked a faint hope of survival.
At the time, Sersis had been overwhelmed with grief and despair, ready to give up on life.
But it was the girl’s will to live that rekindled a trace of desire to survive within him.
Two dying souls, their memories and emotions intertwined, struggled to merge—and in the end, they survived.
“Do you want to see the beauty of the world with your own eyes?”
After the fusion, as the dominant personality, Sersis didn’t particularly care for that wish born from a girl’s heart.
“It’s a pity this world is full of betrayal and darkness… You’ve lived in hell too, haven’t you?”
Thinking back on the past, remembering those three faces that had torn off their masks of warmth to reveal hatred and contempt, Selitia felt a sharp pain in her chest—so intense it couldn’t be suppressed.
She clutched her chest tightly, her fingers digging into her clothes. The back of her hand was so pale it was almost translucent.
Her body curled in on itself, trembling uncontrollably.
“…Hah… cough… cough cough…”
Even deep breaths couldn’t stop her body’s reaction.
Selitia covered her mouth, struggling to suppress the violent coughing fit.
“…Cough cough cough… cough…”
The battle aura and magic that once surged through her were now gone without a trace.
What remained was a body ravaged by illness, so fragile it seemed ready to give out at any moment.
At last, the coughing ceased, and the discomfort began to subside.
Selitia rubbed her temples, forcing herself to stay alert.
She sat up on the hard wooden bed and reached for the clothes laid beside it.
It was a plain, deep-gray linen dress with no patterns or adornment—simple and unremarkable.
Expressionless, she removed her nightclothes and put on the dress.
With a flick of her hand, she pushed her long hair behind her ear and looked toward the mirror on the nearby wooden table.
Reflected in the glass was the face of a young girl.
Her light ash-blonde hair was soft and curled, draping over her shoulders like seaweed.
Her features were delicate and elegant, her skin pale as snow. Her figure was slender and frail, her long illness having drained her of any color.
What stood out most were her grayish-purple eyes, misty and dreamlike—like a light drizzle on a winter morning, veiled and mysterious.
She studied herself for a moment, her brows gently furrowed.
That misty gaze held a trace of helplessness.
Unfamiliar.
Deeply unfamiliar.
But…
“…Well, I’m already here…” she muttered.
Since she had chosen to keep living, she could only accept it all—and live well.
Fate had given them a second chance, a chance to pursue the desires buried deep within their hearts as a new being.
Besides, Selitia still wanted to see—now that she was gone—just how chaotic those people’s lives would become without her to support them.
Leaving the attic where she lived, she picked up a broom from the corner and stepped into the courtyard.
Bathed in the morning light, the girl slowly began to sweep the yard.
This body was far too weak to handle anything even slightly strenuous.
All she could do was gently move her limbs, slowly getting used to it, bit by bit.
Passersby hurried past nearby.
Through the wall, Selitia could hear them discussing the latest events.
“York Kingdom is finished for sure. After Sersis died, that little queen couldn’t control the situation at all. All the major lords declared independence, and the ones who haven’t probably will soon.”
“Of course. I heard that not only did their Holy Knights lose their commander, but the commander of the Divine Mage Corps, Kristin, went insane too. With both major military forces in chaos, it’d be stranger if York didn’t fall apart.”
“Ah, that reminds me—did you feel the strange surge of power last night?”
“I did! I was so scared I couldn’t sleep a wink. These days are full of misfortune… His Majesty the King is still gravely ill, and the Princess can’t hold things together. Only Saintess Ariel offers any hope…”
“Shhh, don’t speak carelessly about the Princess or the Saintess…”
Selitia listened to their words as she continued sweeping, her eyes lowered.
Only the pale corners of her lips curled into a faintly mocking smile.
The nation she had worked so hard to hold together was now crumbling, and the very people she had vowed to protect had lost their minds…
But what did any of that have to do with her now?
Sersis was dead.
The one standing here was just an ordinary girl.
Suddenly, a strange fluctuation of energy rippled nearby.
A mosaic-like black hole appeared in the air.
A deeply ominous feeling emanated from it.
“Ah—!!”
Nearby pedestrians screamed in panic and scattered, running as far away as they could.
Beneath the black hole, Selitia raised her head and slightly furrowed her brow.
This power was all too familiar.
She had once named this twisted spatial anomaly: Shadowspace.
Back in his adventuring days, Sersis had encountered it near an elven settlement.
With no better option, he had been forced to kill the elves driven mad by its corruption and seal the cave connected to Shadowspace.
At that time, Sersis had taken with him the only surviving elf girl—
The one who had signed a master-servant contract with him, who had served faithfully by his side: Kathy.
The warped black hole cracked open, and a hand reached out from the rift with great difficulty.
Its once-fair skin was now covered in blotchy black marks.
Next came a whole figure, crawling out of the rift and plummeting to the ground, landing right at Selitia’s feet.
From her long pointed ears, it was barely discernible—she appeared to be an elf.
Her clothing was in tatters, her body rotting, her pale blue hair had lost its luster, and her face, once elegant and cold, now looked so distorted it inspired only disgust.
The elf crawled forward a few steps and collapsed at Selitia’s feet, reaching out in agony, trying to grasp the tips of her shoes.
“…Master… Master…”
A broken voice spilled from her lips.
“…Help me… please…”
Even through the ragged and ruined tone, Selitia could just barely make out who it was—her former contract-bound elf, Kathy.
Her eyes narrowed slightly. Selitia raised her broom and casually took a step back, avoiding the trembling hands.
“Who are you?”
Selitia said coldly.
“I don’t know you. Don’t go around making false claims.”